Sangha Protection Sutra (佛說因緣僧護經)

The Sutra of Cause and Condition, as Spoken by the Buddha to Monk Hu

Attributed to Unknown Translator, Included in the Eastern Jin Record

Thus have I heard:

Thus have I heard: At one time, the Buddha was dwelling in the Jeta Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s Park, in Śrāvastī.

At that time, a great sea dragon king, having for the first time awakened faith, transformed into human form and came to the garden. He approached the monks, seeking to renounce the world and become a monastic. The monks, unaware that he was a dragon, granted him ordination and accepted him into the sangha.

A young monk shared a room with another monk. After spending one night together, at dawn he prepared himself with proper dignity and went to the city to beg for alms. Now, the monk who was actually a dragon, thanks to his karmic merit from past deeds, obtained alms first, or would return early after visiting his former palace. According to monastic custom, after eating, one would enter the room, center the mind, and sit in meditation. The dragon monk, however, forgot to close the door. Dragons are prone to sleepiness, and the weather was hot—indeed, there are five occasions when a dragon cannot conceal its form: first, at birth; second, at death; third, during mating; fourth, when angry; and fifth, when asleep. These are the five. So the dragon monk, unable to conceal itself, fell asleep, its body filling the entire room. When the room-sharing monk returned and entered, he saw only the dragon's body filling the whole room. Terrified, he fled, shouting to the other monks: "Venerable elders! There's a dragon king here! There's a dragon king here!"

The dragon's loud roar startled the monk awake. He returned to his seat, crossed his legs, and entered meditation. Because of the loud noise, a large crowd gathered and asked this young monk, "Why did you shout so loudly?" The monk replied, "There was a dragon in the room."

At that time, the assembly gathered together and entered the room to find the dragon, but they found no dragon. Instead, they saw the monk sitting in meditation with his legs crossed. Greatly astonished, they did not know what to make of it. So they went to the Buddha and recounted the events, asking Him to resolve their doubts.

At that time, the World-Honored One addressed the monks, saying: "This is not a human being! This is a dragon king. You may go and summon him." The monks, receiving the instruction, went to summon that dragon king. At that moment, the dragon monk promptly came to the Buddha's presence, prostrated himself with his head at the Buddha's feet, and then sat to one side. The Buddha taught him the Dharma, showing him the way, guiding him, and bringing him joy. Then the Buddha remained silent.

At that time, the Dragon King reflected within his heart and was filled with joy. The Buddha comforted him, saying, "You may return to your palace." Upon hearing this, the Dragon King wept tears of sorrow, bowed at the Buddha's feet, circumambulated him three times, and then departed.

Along the way, he thought to himself: "Although I cannot yet become a monk, I can act as a great patron in the Buddha's teachings—building monastic residences and providing the four necessities of support." With this in mind, he used his powers to conjure, there on the open road, a monastery surrounded by flowing springs, pools, and lush gardens—a place of deep tranquility, far from the noise and bustle of crowds. Day and night it remained peaceful, free even of ants, mosquitoes, or biting flies. The climate was neither cold nor hot, but gentle and agreeable, with no discomfort of any kind. He invited all the monks, and everything they required—robes, food, bedding, and medicine—was provided in full.

The vinaya-holding monks repeatedly scolded him. At that time, the Naga monk did not understand the scriptures and precepts, and often felt troubled within himself, thinking: "I now offer support with all necessities prepared, yet these monks still criticize me." He then dissolved the magical monastery and went to another empty place, where he again created a monastery by magical means—palaces, forests, and springs, just as before—and again invited the assembly of monks to receive offerings of the four necessities.

Then the monks said to the monk Naga, "The monastery's kitchen and storehouse contain many items. As the head of the monastery, you should count and report the inventory to the assembly."

The dragon replied, "These were never the monks' possessions. Now you seek a written record claiming they were made for the order—how can they all be mine? The monks, however, are hard to support. If this is the case, I can bear with it a little." In the middle of that night, he left the monastery and returned to the palace.

At that time, in the kingdom of Shravasti, there were five hundred merchants who had made a pact together, intending to venture into the great sea. The merchants gathered and discussed, seeking a Dharma teacher to accompany them on their sea voyage, so that they might ask questions about the Dharma from time to time. By hearing the benefits of the Dharma, they hoped to make a safe journey out and back. Among the merchants, one elder said to them: "I have a teacher, named Sanghagupta, who can be invited to be our guide. He is eloquent, wise, and skilled at expounding the Dharma."

At that time, the merchants traveled together to visit Sangharakshita. Upon arriving at his dwelling, they prostrated themselves at his feet and said, "We wish to venture into the great sea. We now invite you, Venerable Sir, to be our Dharma teacher. If we hear the Dharma from you, we may be able to make the journey and return safely."

Samgha said, "We should ask the venerable teacher. If he permits, we will accept your invitation." Then the monk Samgha led the merchants to where Shariputra was, and they bowed their heads at his feet. At that time, the merchants said to Shariputra, "We are all preparing to enter the ocean, and we now request Samgha to act as our Dharma teacher. We only hope that the venerable sir will grant us your permission."

Shariputra said, "Let us ask the Buddha together." Then Shariputra and the monk Sangharakshita, along with the merchants, went to where the Buddha was. They bowed their heads at the Buddha's feet, knelt with palms together, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One! We wish to enter the great sea and have invited the Venerable Sangharakshita to be our Dharma teacher. We will ask him about the Dharma from time to time, and through the power of hearing the Dharma, we may be able to make the journey and return safely."

At that time, the World-Honored One, knowing that the monk Sangha-protector was meant to extensively liberate sentient beings, gave his permission.

At that time, the merchants were overjoyed and, together with the Venerable Sangharakshita, set sail on the great ocean. Before they reached the place of treasure, a dragon king seized their ship. The merchants were greatly alarmed, and kneeling with palms pressed together, they looked up and asked: “What spirit is this that holds our ship fast? If you seek something, please reveal your form.” Then the dragon king suddenly appeared. The merchants immediately asked: “What do you want?” The dragon king replied: “Give me the monk Sangharakshita.” The merchants answered: “This monk Sangharakshita was invited here by us from the Buddha and Shariputra—how could we possibly give him to you?” The dragon king said: “If you do not hand him over, I will drown and kill you all.”

At that moment, the merchants were filled with great fear and alarm. Reflecting deeply, they recalled having once heard this verse from the Buddha:

At that time, the merchants bowed repeatedly, offering the monk Senhu to the Dragon King. The Dragon King was overjoyed and took him to his palace.

At that time, the Dragon King entrusted four wise and intelligent dragons to become disciples of Monk Hu. The Dragon King said, "Venerable Sir, please teach these four dragons, each with one of the Agamas: the first dragon should be taught the Ekottara Agama, the second the Madhyama Agama, the third the Samyukta Agama, and the fourth the Dirgha Agama."

Samgha replied, “It can be done; I will teach you.” Then the monk Samgha began instructing them. The first dragon listened quietly; the second dragon recited with eyes closed; the third dragon turned its head to listen; the fourth dragon stood at a distance to listen. These four dragon sons were intelligent and wise. Within six months, they recited the four Agamas, held them in their minds, and retained them completely without omission.

At that time, the great Dragon King came to where the monk Sajjana was, knelt down, and asked after him, saying, "Are you not feeling distressed?" The monk Sajjana replied, "I am greatly distressed." The Dragon King asked, "Why are you so distressed?" The monk Sajjana answered, "Those who uphold the Dharma must observe proper rules and conduct. These dragons, being born in the animal realm, have no sense of propriety, do not understand the Buddhist teachings, and are unable to properly receive, uphold, recite, and study them." The Dragon King said, "Venerable Sir, you should not reproach these dragons. Why is that? Because they are protecting your life. Dragons possess four kinds of poison, which prevent them from receiving, upholding, and reciting the Dharma in the proper manner. Why do they remain silent when receiving teachings? Because of the poison of sound, they cannot follow the rules properly; if they made a sound, it would surely harm your life. Therefore, they remain silent. Why do they receive teachings with their eyes closed? Because of the poison of sight, they cannot follow the rules properly; if they looked at you, it would surely harm your life. Therefore, they keep their eyes shut. Why do they receive teachings while turning their heads away? Because of the poison of breath, they cannot follow the rules properly; if their breath blew on you, it would surely harm your life. Therefore, they turn away. Why do they receive teachings from a distance? Because of the poison of touch, they cannot follow the rules properly; if their body touched yours, it would surely harm your life. Therefore, they stay far away."

The merchants, having gathered their treasures, made their way back to the place where they had lost their teacher. They said to one another, “We lost our teacher here before. Now, if we return to the world-honored Buddha and the venerable ones Shariputra and Maudgalyayana ask us about Master Sangharakshita, what shall we answer?”

At that time, the Dragon King, knowing the merchants were returning, brought the monk Sanyhara and handed him back to the merchants, saying, "This is your teacher, the monk Sanyhara." Then the merchants, filled with joy and excitement, safely made their way out.

At that time, the monk Seng Hu asked the merchants, "Between the water route and the land route, which should we take?" The merchants replied, "The water route is very long, taking six months to cross, and our provisions are nearly gone—we cannot make it that way." So they discussed together and decided to take the land route. Midway, they stopped for the night, and the monk Seng Hu said to the merchants, "I will sleep apart from the group. When you set off at night, call out loudly for me." The merchants agreed. Seng Hu then left the group to rest, sitting in meditation during the first part of the night and sleeping in the middle part. When the merchants set off in the middle of the night, they called to one another, saying, "Let's summon Master Seng Hu," but in the end, no one actually called for him. They simply left him behind. As night was nearly over, a great storm arose. Seng Hu woke up and called out loudly, but no one answered. He thought to himself, "This is a grave misfortune—my companions have abandoned me."

At that time, the monk SenHu, having lost his companions and traveling alone, had not gone far when he heard the sound of a wooden gong. Following the sound, he headed toward a monastery. On the way, he met a man and asked, "Why is the wooden gong being struck?" The man replied, "It is time to enter the hot bath." SenHu thought to himself, "I have come from afar; I may as well bathe with the monks." He then entered the monks' quarters, where he saw many people who looked like monks, all going together into the hot bath chamber. He saw bathing utensils, bath robes, clay pots, and vessels, yet the entire bath chamber was ablaze with fire. At that moment, SenHu saw the monks enter the bath chamber, and once they were inside, the fire consumed their flesh completely, leaving only bones like charred torches. SenHu, terrified, asked the monks, "Who are you?" The monks replied, "People from Jambudvipa are hard to convince. When you reach the Buddha, you can ask him directly." Filled with fear, SenHu fled the monastery in terror.

Not far ahead, he encountered another monastery. This one was grand and beautifully built, exceptionally fine. There too he heard the sound of a wooden bell, and seeing a monk, he asked: "Why is the bell being struck?" The monk replied: "The monks are gathering for a meal." He thought to himself: "I have traveled a long way and am very hungry and weary. I too need to eat." Upon entering the monastery, he saw the monks assembled, yet their bowls, utensils, and mats were all ablaze. The people, the rooms—everything was on fire, just as before, no different. Monk Hu asked them: "Who are you?" They answered: "No different from before." Monk Hu, terrified, quickly fled from the place.

The path was not yet far when he encountered another monastery. Its solemn appearance and rites were no different from the previous one. Entering the monks' quarters, he again saw monks seated on heated beds, clawing and beating one another, their flesh worn away until their ribs emerged, their organs, marrow, and bones likewise like charred candles. Monku asked, "Who are you?" The monks replied, "People from Jambudvipa, of a nature hard to trust. If you reach the Buddha's presence, you can ask him about this." Monku, frightened and alarmed, swiftly departed once more.

Not far ahead, another monastery appeared. As before, he entered it and saw many monks sitting together, eating. The monks said, "You must leave now." As Saputra hesitated, unable to leave immediately, he saw that the monks' bowls were filled only with human excrement, boiling and bubbling over. All the monks were eating it. After eating, fire ignited in their throats and organs, turning everything into smoke and ash that flowed straight down and passed through. Shocked and terrified at this sight, he swiftly departed.

Not far ahead, he saw another monastery, its appearance solemn and dignified, just as before. He entered the monks' quarters and saw monks holding iron mallets, striking one another until they were crushed to dust. Filled with fear and dread at the sight, he hurried on his way.

He had not gone far when he saw another monastery, equally splendid and impressive as the one before. He entered the monks' quarters and heard the sound of a wooden gong being struck. Monk Sariputra asked, "Why is the gong being struck?" The monks replied, "We are about to drink sweet nectar." Monk Sariputra thought to himself, "I am thirsty now and could use some sweet nectar." So he joined the assembly. He saw the eating vessels, beds, and cushions. The monks were cursing and insulting each other, while the vessels were filled with molten copper. The monks all drank and ate from them, and as soon as they did, flames erupted in their throats and internal organs, burning them to charcoal, which then flowed downward and passed through. Seeing this, he was terrified and hurried on his way.

Not far from there, he saw a great expanse of burning flesh, with flames raging and cries of agony so unbearable to hear. Overwhelmed with fear and horror, he hurried away from that place.

Not long after leaving, they saw the earth again, just as before, unchanged.

As they advanced further, they came upon a great vat of flesh engulfed in flames, wracked with unbearable heat and agony, just as before.

Moving further ahead, one also sees a vat of flesh, all of it burning with flames, just as before, without any difference.

Moving forward, they saw a vessel of flesh, its flames blazing, with cries of agony, unbearable pain and suffering.

Continuing on, they saw a jar of flesh with flames blazing fiercely, just as before, without any difference.

Moving forward, they came upon a great spring of hide, its flames raging, the hide boiling and rotting, with cries of agony and torment no different from before. Seeing this, they were filled with terror.

Continuing forward, the path was not far when another great vessel of flesh appeared, its flames blazing fiercely, with suffering as before.

Continuing forward, he saw a bhikkhu holding a sharp knife, cutting off his own nose. After it was cut off, it grew back, and he cut it again—over and over, without ever stopping.

Continuing forward, he saw a monk holding an axe, cutting his own tongue, over and over again, just as before.

He continued forward and saw a monk standing alone in the water, chanting to himself: "Water, water, never ceasing." Thus he endured great suffering.

Continuing onward, he saw a monk in the Iron Thorn Garden, standing on iron thorns, crying out in agony—just as before.

Moving on further, he saw a hall of flesh, its flames blazing fiercely, with cries of agony and wailing—just as before, no different.

Continuing forward, they saw a fleshy stake shaped like an elephant's tusk, engulfed in blazing flames, suffering as before.

Continuing forward, he saw a camel with its body on fire, crying out in agony—just as before.

Continuing forward, they saw a horse engulfed in flames, its body burning, crying out in agony—just as before.

Moving on, they came upon a white elephant with flames engulfing its body, suffering just as terribly as before.

Continuing onward, he saw a donkey whose body was engulfed in fierce flames, its suffering no different from before.

Continuing onward, he saw a ram with its body engulfed in fierce flames, suffering torment no different from before.

Moving forward, they came upon a platform of flesh, blazing with great flames, where the suffering was no different from before.

Moving forward, they saw another flesh platform, identical to the one before.

Moving forward, they saw a house of flesh, with fierce flames burning the bodies within, and cries of agony—no different from before.

I advanced further and came upon a forest of flesh, where cries of anguish rang out—suffering no different from what had come before.

Going further ahead, he saw a bed of flesh with flames scorching the body, no different from before.

As they continued forward, they came upon a flesh scale, burning and expanding and contracting with fire, the suffering no different from before.

Moving forward, they saw a being caught and bound, twisting and writhing as fire burned it, suffering just as before.

Continuing onward, [he] saw a flesh bed, burning in fire and suffering, just as before.

Moving further ahead, I encountered a wall of flesh. It blazed and quivered with flames, and the suffering there was no different from before.

Moving on, they saw a rope made of flesh, burning and stretching, causing the same agony as before.

Moving further ahead, they came upon a toilet pit, where filth and urine bubbled and boiled, their suffering no different from before.

Moving forward, he saw a high platform where a monk sat upright in deep concentration, while fierce flames burned around him, and cries of suffering arose as before.

Moving forward, they saw another tall platform, where the suffering monks were in no different state than before.

Advancing further, he saw a flesh mortar, its fire-scorched cries of suffering—just as before.

Continuing forward, he saw the flesh demon named Hu Qizhi, whose barbarian name was Juxiuluo, with fierce flames burning his body, suffering as before.

Continuing onward, they saw a flesh-bound demon, suffering as before.

Advancing further, [he] saw a great mountain of flesh, burning and rotting in fierce fire, shaking and wailing, its suffering no different from before.

Moving forward, he saw the Sumana tree, burning and suffering, just as before.

As they advanced further, they came across a sandalwood tree. It burned with crackling flames, just as the ones before.

Moving forward, they see a tree with fleshy blossoms, burning and making sounds, with suffering no different from before.

Continuing forward, they saw a meat-fruit tree, its burning cries of suffering just as before.

Moving further ahead, they saw another tree, blazing with fire and causing suffering, just like the one before.

Moving on further, they saw a pillar of flesh, burning and suffering, just as before.

Moving forward, they encountered another pillar of flesh, and the guards chopped at it with axes, inflicting the same suffering as before.

Advancing further, they saw a pillar of flesh, burning and suffering, just as before.

Moving on, they saw fourteen trees made of flesh, burning and suffering—just as before.

Moving on further, he saw two monks beating each other with sticks, their heads split open and brains exposed, with pus and blood flowing out. As soon as they healed, the wounds reopened, endlessly repeating this cycle of suffering without respite.

Monk Senghu continued forward and saw two novice monks sleeping in each other's arms, their bodies engulfed in fierce flames, suffering endlessly without respite. Seeing this, Monk Senghu was terrified and asked the novices, "Who are you, suffering such torment?" The novices replied, "People from Jambudvipa are hard to convince. When you reach the World-Honored One, you may ask the Buddha." Having seen this, he was filled with fear.

Continuing on the path, he saw in the distance a grove of trees, lush and delightful. He entered the woods and saw five hundred ascetics dwelling there. When the ascetics saw the monk Sanka, they fled in all directions, saying to one another: "The disciple of Shakyamuni has defiled our grove."

The monk Senghu borrowed a tree from the immortals and stayed for one night, planning to leave early the next morning. Among the immortals, the most senior elder, who was deeply compassionate, instructed the young immortals: "Lend a tree to the monk." Senghu then received a tree, and beneath it, he spread his sitting cloth and sat cross-legged. During the first part of the night, he subdued the five hindrances; in the middle of the night, he rested; in the last part of the night, he sat upright and chanted aloud. When the immortals heard the sound of his chanting, they awoke to the nature of emptiness and attained the stage of non-returning. Filled with joy upon seeing the Dharma, they came to the monk, bowed at his feet, and earnestly requested to take refuge in the Three Jewels, seeking to renounce the world and become monastics. At that time, Senghu then guided the immortals, ordaining them according to the Dharma, and taught them meditation practice. Before long, they attained meditative concentration and realized the fruit of arhatship—just as sandalwood is surrounded by sandalwood, the enlightened monks formed a noble assembly.

At that time, the monk Sangha Raksita and his disciples together arrived at the Jeta Grove Monastery in the city of Sravasti. They went to the Buddha, bowed their heads to his feet, and then sat to one side. The World-Honored One then greeted the monks, saying, "Have you had a tiring journey? Was it easy to obtain your alms?"

At that time, the monk Senhu said to the Buddha, "World-Honored One! Our journey was not too tiring, we easily obtained alms food, and we did not experience hardship. We are fortunate to have seen the World-Honored One."

At that time, the World-Honored One was teaching the essential Dharma to the great assembly.

At that time, the monk Sénhù, in the presence of the World-Honored One and before the great assembly, proclaimed aloud the causes and conditions of the hell he had previously witnessed, saying: "I only wish that the World-Honored One would explain to me the original causes and conditions."

The Buddha told Sangharaksha: "What you saw earlier—the monks and the bathing house—were not actual monks or a bathing house, but beings in hell. These sinners, during the time of Kashyapa Buddha, were ordained monks who did not follow the precepts. They indulged their own foolish desires and used the bathing supplies and various utensils of the monastic community as they pleased. The monks who upheld the precepts constantly taught them the proper rules, but they refused to follow those teachings. Since the passing of Kashyapa Buddha into Nirvana, they have been suffering in hell without respite, and this continues to this very day."

The Buddha told Sanghāta: "The monastery you first saw was not a real monastery, nor were its inhabitants monks—they were beings in hell. During the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, they were monastics who failed to uphold the five virtues. They took the offerings meant for the four-direction monastic community without sounding the bell to signal sharing, and used them in silence for their own benefit. Because of this karmic deed, they now suffer the torment of fiery beds. Since the passing of Kāśyapa Buddha into nirvāṇa, they have endured the pains of hell without respite, and this continues to this very day."

The second temple you see is not a monastery of monks, nor does it house true practitioners. It is a place of torment for beings in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, these were monastics who lacked the five virtues. Devout donors built temples for them and provided all necessities in abundance. When the donors first established these temples, they intended to ring the bell to announce meals, so that all wandering monks could be fed. But these monastics never rang the bell, silently consuming the offerings. When visiting monks arrived, they received no food and left with empty bowls. Because of this, they now suffer on burning beds of fire, clawing and striking each other until their muscles and bones are consumed, leaving only charred stumps like burnt wicks. Since the passing of Kasyapa Buddha, they have endured this suffering without respite, and it continues to this day.

"You see the third monastery? It is not a monastery of monks, nor are its inhabitants monks—they are beings in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, these were monks who had fallen into negligence and laziness. Living together in large numbers, they said to one another: 'Let us invite a monk who upholds the precepts, so that we may conduct our practices properly.' They searched and found such a pure-living monk, and he shared their residence and meals. This pure monk, in turn, sought out fellow monks who lived righteously, and gradually their numbers grew. The negligent ones then drove them out of the monastery. Later, those who had broken the precepts set fire to the monastery at night, killing all the pure monks. Because of this deed, they now wield iron hammers, destroying one another endlessly. Since the passing of Kasyapa Buddha, they have suffered immense torment, and it continues to this very day."

You see the fourth temple, which is neither a monastic temple nor a community of monks, but a place of hell-beings. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, these were monastics who resided permanently in the temple. When benefactors offered oil and meat, it was customary to share them equally among those present. However, when visiting monks arrived, the resident monks, driven by greed, waited until the guests had left before dividing the offerings. Before they could finish dividing, the food bred worms, turned foul, and had to be discarded. Because of this karmic deed, they fell into hell, where they are forced to consume excrement and filth. Since the passing of Kashyapa Buddha, they have endured endless suffering without respite.

"Do you see that fifth temple? It is not a monk's temple, nor is it home to monks—it holds beings in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, these were monastics who, at the midday meal, ate improperly and hurled abusive words at one another. Because of that karmic deed, they now endure the torment of an iron bed, where boiling fire overflows from every vessel, consuming their flesh and muscle until only charred bones like burnt wicks remain. Since the parinirvana of Kasyapa Buddha up to now, this suffering has never ceased."

"You see the sixth monastery? It is not a monastery of monks or nuns, but a place of hell-beings. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, these people were monastics. They did not strike the wooden bell to signal others, but silently drank the sweet syrup meant for the community, fearing that outside monks would come. Because of their stinginess, they fell into hell, where they now drink molten copper. They have been suffering since the passing of Kasyapa Buddha, and their torment continues to this day."

At that time, the Buddha spoke again to the monk Seng Hu, saying: "What you saw as the first ground was not the great earth itself, but hell beings. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, these were monastics who privately planted crops on the monastery's communal land without repaying the monks' due. The monks who upheld the precepts admonished them according to the rules: 'How can you fail to repay the monks' due?' But these people, relying on the power of the king, refused to accept the teaching and replied to the monks: 'Am I your slave? If you have the strength, why don't you plant it yourselves?' Because of this cause and effect, they underwent great suffering in the hell realm. From the time of Kasyapa Buddha's final nirvana until now, they have never ceased."

When you see the second ground, it is not actual earth, but a sinner. During the time of the Buddha Kashyapa, this person was a layman who used the Sangha's fields without paying the proper dues. Because of that cause, he fell into hell and became a great mass of flesh, suffering endless torment that continues to this day.

The first flesh vessel you saw is not truly made of flesh—it is a being burdened by sin. In the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, he was the most senior monk in the community. He could not meditate or recite scriptures, nor did he understand the precepts. He ate to fullness and slept deeply, spending his time only in idle talk. He partook of fine offerings and was first to eat the best food. Because of these deeds, he fell into hell and became a great flesh vessel, tormented by burning fire. Even to this day, his suffering has not ceased.

"You see that second cauldron? It's not actually a cauldron—it's a person from hell. During the time of Buddha Kashyapa, this person was a monk who lacked the five virtues. He served as the cook for the monastic community. He would taste the finest, most delicious offerings first, and then serve the coarse, bad food to the monks. Because of this karma, he fell into hell and became a huge cauldron of flesh, burning and suffering in the flames. To this day, his torment has not ceased."

"You see the third cauldron? That is not a cauldron—it is a being in hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a temple servant. When preparing meals, he would taste the finest portions himself, or give them to his wife and children. The coarse and inferior food, he would serve to the monastic community. Because of this, he now suffers in hell as a great cauldron of flesh, scorched by fire, and his torment continues to this very day."

At that time, the World-Honored One again spoke to the monk Senhu: "The first jar you saw was not a jar at all, but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who served as the cook for the community. He would hold back the morning meal for the next day, and what was meant for the next day, he would delay until the third day. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became a great jar of flesh, burned by fire and suffering torment, and this suffering has not ceased to this day."

"You see that second jar? It is not a jar—it is a person from hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk residing permanently at a monastery. Some donors had offered a jar of butter to be shared equally among all the monks present. But this monk, seeing visiting monks arrive, secretly kept the jar aside. Only after the visitors had left did he divide it among the others. Because of this deed, he fell into hell and became a great jar of flesh, burning in torment even to this day."

"You see a figure standing in the water—this is not a monk, but a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monastic. He was in charge of water for the sangha. Seeing the monks use water, he begrudged them even a small excess. He would only give water where it pleased him, and withhold it from others. Because of this karmic deed, he fell into hell. Now he stands alone in the water, crying out 'Water! Water!' enduring immense suffering that continues to this very day."

You see that great vat—it is not truly a vat, but a being in hell. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who served as the steward of the monastic community's provisions. When it came to fruits and vegetables, he would first taste the finest and most delicious ones for himself, while the sour and bitter ones he would give to others as he pleased, choosing only the best to offer. Because of this unequal treatment, due to this cause, he entered hell and became a great vat of flesh, burned by fire and suffering, and has not ceased to this very day.

"You see that monk whose nose was cut off by a knife? He is not a real monk but a being from hell. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, he was a monastic who spat on the clean ground of the Buddha's monastery. Because of that deed, he fell into hell, where his nose is cut by knives and burned by fire—suffering that continues to this very day."

"You see that monk holding an axe, hacking at his own tongue? That is not a true monk, but one destined for hell. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, he was a novice monk. Charged with dividing rock sugar among the community, he chopped it into pieces, then licked the sugar stuck to the blade. Because of that deed, he now suffers the torment of having his tongue chopped—and will continue to, without end."

Then the World-Honored One again spoke to the monk Senhu: "The spring you saw is not a spring of water—it is a person in hell. During the time of Buddha Kasyapa, this person was a novice monk who was in charge of honey for the monastic community. He tasted the honey himself first, then gave the remainder to the monks, so it was insufficient and did not go around. Because of this cause, he entered hell and became a great spring of flesh, burned and boiled by fire, suffering immense torment, which has not yet ceased to this day."

"Do you see that monk standing on the spikes? He is not a monk but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, he was a monk who used harsh words to curse and abuse other monks. Because of this deed, he fell into hell and now stands on iron spikes, burning in fire and suffering, and has not ceased to this very day.

"You see that meat pavilion? It is not a pavilion at all, but a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, he was a monk living in the monastery, but he lacked the five virtues. He served as the cook for the Sangha, and would first help himself to the finest and most delicious food, or sometimes give it to laypeople. He treated the monks with a biased mind, favoring some and neglecting others. Because of these deeds, he now endures the torments of hell, and even now, his suffering has not ceased."

"You see that stake? It is not truly a stake — it is a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk. Within the monastery's permanent property, he recklessly drove stakes into the monastery walls without any need for the monastic community — hanging his own robes and alms bowl there. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became a great flesh stake, burning and suffering, and to this day his torment has not ceased."

At that time, the World-Honored One spoke again to Saṃghārakṣa: "The creature you saw as a camel is not actually a camel—it is a being in hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monastic and held the position of senior elder in the monastery. He constantly received extra portions of food, sometimes enough for two people. The monks who upheld the precepts taught him properly, saying, 'It is not fitting for a senior elder to behave this way.' But the old monk replied to them, 'You know nothing—your voices are like camels. As the senior elder in this assembly, I lead prayers, give teachings, and chant hymns—I deserve this extra share by right. Why do you always criticize and scold me?' Because of this causality, he fell into hell and was reborn with a camel's body, burning in fire, crying out in agony—and so it continues to this day, with no end to his suffering."

"You see that horse? It's not really a horse—it's a being reborn in hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person served as a steward for the monastic community. He took more than his fair share of the offerings meant for the monks, eating too much himself and even giving some to his family, friends, and laypeople. When the monks admonished him, saying, 'You shouldn't do this,' he cursed them, saying, 'You're like horses, always eating and never satisfied. I work so hard for the community—I deserve these rewards.' Because of this, he fell into hell and was reborn as a horse, his body burning with fire, suffering greatly—and that suffering continues to this very day."

"You see this elephant—it is not truly a white elephant, but a being from hell. During the time of Buddha Kāśyapa, this one was a monk who served as cook for the monastery. When benefactors brought offerings to the monastery to give to the monks, sometimes they would arrive after a meal. The benefactors would say: 'Venerable Sir! There is still time—please do not yet strike the bell. We wish to gather the monks and offer food.' But this monk, out of harsh speech, replied to the laypeople: 'Are the monks not satisfied like white elephants? We have already finished the meal. Leave it for another day.' Because of that cause, he fell into hell and was born as a white elephant, tormented by burning fire. Even now, this suffering has not yet ceased."

"You see that donkey? It is not truly a donkey—it is a being from hell. During the time of the Buddha Kashyapa, this person was a monk who served as the cook for the sangha. Lacking the five virtues, he would distribute food to the monks while always taking an extra two or three portions for himself. When the monks who upheld the precepts admonished him according to the Dharma, this person replied, 'I handle the kitchen and the garden produce, constantly attending to the sangha's affairs—this is truly exhausting labor. You monks have no idea of my kindness. You're like donkeys, just feeding yourselves. Why don't you stay quiet?' Because of this karmic cause, he fell into hell and now suffers in the body of a donkey, with no end to his torment even to this day."

"You see that ram? It is not actually a sheep—it is a being from hell. In the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this being was a monk who served as the head of a monastery, managing all internal and external affairs. He failed to instruct his disciples, and the younger monks did not strike the wooden board at the proper times to gather the assembly. The elders approached him and said, 'Head monk, why do you not sound the board at the proper times to call the monks together?' The monk replied, 'I am busy managing the monastery's affairs, and it is exhausting work. You monks are like rams—just eating and lounging around. Why don't you strike the board yourselves?' Because of this, he fell into hell and was reborn in the form of a ram, suffering the torment of burning fire and immense pain, which continues to this very day."

At that time, the World-Honored One again spoke to Monk Senghu: "You see that platform of flesh—it is not truly a platform, but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who took the bedding and furnishings from the monks' quarters, locked the doors, and with the keys in hand, wandered off in all directions. The community of monks, left behind, could not use the bedding or the rooms. Because of this cause and condition, he fell into hell and became a great platform of flesh, scorched by fire and enduring suffering, which continues to this very day without cease."

You see the second great platform of flesh? It is not actually a platform, but a person from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who served as the abbot of a monastery. He chose the finest quarters for himself and his close friends, disregarding the monastic rules. He did not分配 rooms fairly according to seniority, but acted with favoritism and inequality. Because of this deed, he fell into hell and became a great platform of flesh, enduring countless torments that continue to this very day.

"You see that house of flesh? It is not truly a house of flesh, but a being in hell. In the time of Kasyapa Buddha, that person was a monk who lived in the monastery's dwelling and claimed it as his own, never moving out, and did not follow the rules of分配rooms according to seniority. Because of this cause, he became a great house of flesh, burning in torment that continues to this day without end."

At that time, the World-Honored One spoke again to Sramana: "You saw the rope bed of flesh—it was not truly a bed, but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who seized the community's rope beds, disregarding the precepts, treating them as his own and distributing them without proper order. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became a rope bed of flesh, tormented by fire that continues to burn without end even to this day."

"You see that second rope bed? It is not truly a bed—it is a person from hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who broke the monastic rope bed and used it as firewood. Because of that deed, he fell into hell and became a bed of living flesh, burning in agony without end. Even now, that suffering continues."

"You see that fleshy covering? It is not truly a covering at all—it is a hell-being. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who used the sangha's bedding as if it were his own, stepping on it with his feet without following the precepts. Because of this karmic cause, he fell into hell and became this fleshy covering, burned and stretched by fire, enduring countless sufferings that continue to this very day."

"You see that being clutching meat? It is not truly a living being, but a hell-dweller. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk. He treated the community’s property as his own, disregarded the precepts, or misused and destroyed them. Because of such deeds, he fell into hell and is now manifested as something gripping meat, burning in fire and suffering endless pain—still unrelieved to this day."

"You see that flesh-rope bed? It is not truly a bed—it is a person from hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who relied on the king's power, appearing to be virtuous. The fourfold assembly praised him with reverent hearts, but the monk silently accepted their praise. He received fine rope beds and delicious food, accepting them as if he were a true saint. Because of this, he fell into hell and became a flesh-rope bed, tortured by fire without cease, even to this very day."

"What you see as a wall of flesh is not truly a wall—it is inhabitants of hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, some monks drove stakes into the monastery walls, damaging them to hang their robes and bowls. Because of this deed, they fell into hell and became a great wall of flesh, suffering burning torment that continues to this day."

"You see that rope of flesh? It is not truly a rope—it is a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who took the community's rope for his own private use. Because of that deed, he fell into hell and became a great rope of flesh, burned by fire and suffering, which continues to this very day."

"You see that toilet pit? It is not actually a toilet pit—it is a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk living in a monastery. On the pure ground of the Buddha and the Sangha, he relieved himself without regard for proper places. When the monks who upheld the precepts admonished him according to the Dharma, he refused to accept their guidance. His filth and foul odor tainted the entire monastic community. Because of this karmic cause, he fell into hell and became a living toilet pit, suffering endlessly from burning fire, and has not yet ceased even to this day."

If you see a teacher on a high seat who is not truly a teacher, know that this person is bound for hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who did not truly understand the monastic rules. They treated serious offenses as trivial and trivial offenses as serious. They claimed that those with a foundation had none, and those without a foundation had one. They told those who should repent that they need not, and those who should not repent that they must. Because of these actions, they fell into hell, where they sit on a high seat, engulfed in flames, suffering endlessly—even to this very day.

You see the second high seat? That one is truly not a Dharma teacher—he is a hell-being. In the time of Kasyapa Buddha, he was a great teacher, but he taught the Dharma out of dishonest motives. When there was reward and support to be gained, he spoke what was right; when there was no benefit, he twisted the truth, calling the true Dharma false and the false Dharma true. Because of this, he fell into hell, where he sits on an iron seat engulfed in flames, suffering endlessly—and to this day, his torment has not ceased.

"The one you see as a flesh-covered drum crying out in agony is not truly a drum but a hell-being. During the time of Buddha Kasyapa, this person was a monk who, misusing the monastic community's property, struck the wooden signal drum without proper authority, pretended to hold formal ceremonies, and took possession of the Three Jewels' offerings for personal use. Because of these deeds, he fell into hell and now endures the torment of being burned as a fiery fleshy drum—suffering that continues to this day without cease."

You see that creature called Kuxiula? It is not truly a branch—it is a being from hell. During the time of the Buddha Kassapa, this being was a monk who served as the head of a monastery. He took food from the monks' kitchen, sold it for personal gain, and used the proceeds to buy clothing, cutting off the offerings meant for the Sangha. Because of this cause and condition, he fell into hell and became a branch-like being, suffering torment from fire, which continues to this day without end.

"Look at the second Kushura—it is not truly divided limbs, but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk serving as the distributor of goods in the monastery. He took items meant for the spring allotment and shifted them to the summer allotment, and clothes meant for the summer he moved to the winter distribution. Because of this, he fell into hell as a fleshy Kushura, burning in agony, and to this day, his suffering has not ceased."

"You see that mountain of flesh? It is not a mountain of flesh—it is a person from hell. In the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk serving as the head of the monastery's dining hall. Lacking the five virtues and wielding only petty power, he stole from the monastic community and cut off the monks' robes. Because of this karma, he fell into hell and became this great mountain of flesh, burning in torment that continues to this very day."

At that time, the World-Honored One again spoke to Sangharaksa: "What you first saw as a column of sumana flowers was not truly a column, but a being in hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who served as caretaker of the Buddha's shrine. When the fourfold assembly made offerings of sumana flowers to the Buddha, and after the flowers had withered, this monk swept them up and sold them for his own use. Because of this cause and effect, he entered hell and became that column of sumana flowers, burning in suffering—and to this day, his torment has not ceased."

You see the second Sumana flower pillar? It is not actually a pillar, but a being from hell. In the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk. When lay devotees offered oil of Sumana flowers to the Buddha, he secretly took some for his own use. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became this pillar of Sumana flowers, burning and suffering in fire, and to this day the torment has not ceased.

You see this flowering tree; it is not truly a tree, but a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who oversaw the monks' fruit and vegetable garden. He took the finest flowers and fruits for his own use, or gave them to laypeople. Because of this karmic cause, he fell into hell and became a great flowering tree, burning in fire and suffering pain, which continues to this day without cease.

You see a fruit tree, but it is not truly a fruit tree—it is a being from hell. During the time of Kasyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who, when handling the community's vegetables and fruits, secretly ate the finest and most fragrant ones himself or gave them to laypeople. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became a fleshy fruit tree, burning in fire and enduring suffering that has not ceased to this day.

"You see that tree of flesh? It is not truly a tree, but a person in hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, this person was a monk who was in charge of firewood for the monastic community. He used the community's firewood for his own room, or gave it to his friends. Because of that deed, he fell into hell and became a great tree of flesh, burning in fire and suffering, and to this day the torment has not ceased."

At that time, the World-Honored One spoke again to the monk Sen Hu: "The first pillar of flesh you saw was not truly a pillar, but a person in hell. During the time of Buddha Kashyapa, this person was a monk. He was in charge of the monastery's permanent property and damaged the pillar of the Buddha's shrine for his own private use. Because of this cause, he fell into hell and became a great pillar of flesh, burning and suffering in fire, which continues to this day without cease."

"You see that second pillar of flesh? It is not truly a pillar, but a being from hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, he was a layperson who scraped gold leaf off a statue with a knife. Because of this deed, he fell into hell and became a great pillar of flesh. There, the wardens strike his body with axes, causing him agony, while fierce flames burn him—and even now, the torment has not ceased.

"You see that third pillar? It is not actually a pillar, but a being from hell. During the time of Buddha Kashyapa, this person was a monk who handled affairs for the monastic community. He recklessly gave away the monastery's beams and pillars to laypeople. Because of this deed, he fell into hell and became a great pillar of flesh, burning in torment that has not ceased to this day."

"You see these fourteen trees—they are not actually trees, but beings in hell. During the time of Kashyapa Buddha, they were monks living in a monastery. They did not follow the precepts, and when dividing the bedding and supplies, they took the best for themselves, or made unfair distinctions based on anger or favoritism. In the Buddhist community, monks should receive things equally, according to their seniority. Because of this unfairness, these fourteen people fell into hell, becoming great trees of flesh, tormented by fire, and they have suffered without cease ever since."

The two monks you see are not truly monks; they are beings of hell. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, they were monastics who quarreled and fought in the assembly. Because of that karma, they fell into hell, where raging fire burns their bodies and the torment of conflict continues unabated to this very day.

"You see those two young monks? They are not truly monks—they are beings destined for hell. In the time of Kashyapa Buddha, they were novice monks who slept together under one blanket, embracing each other. Because of that deed, they fell into hell, where they burn together in a fiery blanket, embracing in torment, and so it has continued without end to this very day."

At that time, the World-Honored One again spoke to Sangharaksha: "For this reason, I now tell you this: among those in hell, monks are many, while laypeople are few. Why? Because monastics often break precepts, do not follow the monastic rules, mistreat one another, privately use communal property, or distribute food and drink unfairly. Therefore, I now say to you again: diligently uphold the precepts, honor them, and put them into practice."

At that time, the World-Honored One further spoke to Sanghāta: "Now I will tell you—these sinners, in their past lives, were monastics who broke the precepts. Although they did not practice diligently, the fourfold community of supporters, seeing the monks' dignified conduct that resembled true monastics, respected the Sangha jewel and made offerings of the four necessities. Even so, this still allowed them to obtain great rewards—boundless, immeasurable, and inconceivable.

I tell you again: The sinner mentioned earlier, who was a monk in a past life and stole from the monastic community, fell into the great hell. In future ages, lay people who take what belongs to the monastic community will incur guilt hundreds, thousands, ten thousands of times greater than that of the monk—so vast it can never be fully described.

I also tell you this: if a single monk follows the monastic rules, lives in the monastery, practices the Dharma properly, and rings the bell at the proper times—giving to such a person brings immeasurable merit that cannot be fully described. How much more so when offering to the entire monastic community from all directions!

At that time, the World-Honored One further spoke to Samghapāla: "If monastics engage in managing affairs for the Sangha, it is difficult to maintain pure precepts. When these monks first leave household life, they delight in upholding pure precepts and aspire to nirvana. When the four types of lay followers bring offerings, these monks should accept such offerings, firmly uphold pure precepts, and later give rise to no affliction."

At that time, the World-Honored One, wishing to restate this teaching, spoke a verse:

At that time, the World-Honored One again spoke to Samghapala: "There are nine kinds of people who always remain in the great Avichi Hell. What are the nine? First, those who consume the offerings meant for the monastic community; second, those who take the Buddha's property; third, those who kill their father; fourth, those who kill their mother; fifth, those who kill an Arhat; sixth, those who cause a schism in the Sangha; seventh, those who break the pure precepts of a monk; eighth, those who violate a nun living in chastity; ninth, those who commit the sin of being an icchantika. These nine kinds of people are perpetually in hell."

There are five kinds of people who receive retribution in two realms: the first is hell, the second is the realm of hungry ghosts. As for hell, it is as you have seen — those various hells. As for hungry ghosts, their bodies are huge and tall. What are the five? First, those who cut off offerings meant for the monastic community; second, those who cut off food meant for the monastics; third, those who steal gifts intended for the monks; fourth, those who prevent others from receiving what they should rightfully be given; fifth, those who call what is the Dharma non-Dharma, and call what is not the Dharma the Dharma. These five kinds of people receive these two forms of retribution. If their remaining karma is not exhausted, they continue to undergo suffering across the five realms of rebirth.

At that time, the World-Honored One, wishing to restate this teaching, spoke a verse:

At that time, the World-Honored One spoke again to Samudra-rakshasa: "Those dragon kings you saw in the sea have taken on dragon bodies with teeth, scales, and horns that are fearsome to behold and foul beyond approach, for the animal realm obstructs the path to renunciation and hinders meditative practice—they lack the eight liberations. Though they enjoy long lifespans, they cannot escape being devoured by the garuda kings. Yet after their lives end, they will be reborn in the Tusita Heaven, and when their heavenly lifespan concludes, they will obtain human form. When Maitreya appears in the world, they will become great elders with vast wealth, serving as generous benefactors, providing the World-Honored One Maitreya and his monks with all four necessities in full. Among these elders, five hundred will renounce the household life simultaneously, attain the state of Arhat, and be renowned far and wide for their virtue and wisdom. If even these dragon kings can achieve such merit, how much more so my disciples who, renouncing properly, practice seated meditation, recite scriptures, and perfect their deeds of body, speech, and mind—they will surely realize Nirvana!"

At that time, the World-Honored One spoke of his own accord, without being asked:

At that time, the five hundred merchants who were disciples of Master Sanghāti were seated among the assembly. As they heard the Buddha expound the Dharma, they were suddenly struck with awe and deeply realized the truth of impermanence. They said to one another, "From countless eons past until now, we have wandered through existence, suffering the pains of birth and death—all brought about by ignorance and craving." They then rose from their seats, knelt upright with palms joined, and said to the Buddha, "From this day forward, we take refuge in the Three Treasures and uphold the five precepts, vowing not to break them for the rest of our lives."

At that time, the World-Honored One said to Samghapāla: "When the monastic community receives offerings, some are worthy of them, and some are not. Who is worthy? Those who uphold the precepts fully, who remain mindful in all actions, who treat grave and minor precepts with equal care, and who refrain from wrongdoing even in times of fear. Such persons deserve to receive offerings."

At that moment, the World-Honored One spoke this verse:

At that time, the World-Honored One said to Sanghata: "Who should not receive offerings? Those who do not uphold the precepts fully, who are not mindful in their comings and goings, and who do not fear heavy or light offenses—such people should not receive offerings."

At that moment, the World-Honored One spoke this verse:

The Buddha said to all the good men and women: "Those who hear this verse and develop faith, if they joyfully renounce the household life, should uphold the precepts purely and honor this teaching with utmost respect."

At that time, the monks said to the Buddha, "World-Honored One! These five hundred immortals—in their past lives, what virtuous roots did they plant, and in which teachings? At what time did they cultivate the Path? Through what karmic conditions do they now leave home, exhaust all defilements, and attain the fruit of Arhatship? The Tathāgata, who understands all things in the three times, knows the good deeds cultivated by these immortals. Thus, in the midst of the assembly, he spoke of their past causes."

The Buddha told the monks, "In this Fortunate Eon, in a past age during the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, human lifespan was twenty thousand years. There was a great elder named Gongyi, whose wealth was vast beyond measure. In his filial conduct, he slightly disobeyed his parents. Filled with shame and remorse, he went to the Buddha and sought renunciation, cultivating the path. Not long after beginning his studies, he became a great Dharma master.

The monk Gongyi taught and guided five hundred disciples. Together they entered the mountains and forests, dwelling in secluded places, practicing meditation. His heart was filled with joy, and he also taught his disciples to cultivate meditation together. They fashioned meditation staffs and Dharma staffs, perfecting their practice. Through the first, middle, and last watches of the night, they diligently persisted without rest.

Though they had not yet attained insight, the teacher and disciples together made profound good vows, saying: 'Today, teacher and disciples, in harmony with one another, have left home and cultivated the path within the true Dharma of Kāśyapa Buddha, upholding the precepts, meditation, and wisdom. Through this root of goodness, may we in a future life encounter Śākyamuni, the Fully Enlightened One endowed with the ten epithets, the true and non-deceptive teacher of gods and humans. May we again meet our master who will ordain us, and attain liberation, the exhaustion of all defilements.'"

At that time, the Buddha again addressed the great monks, saying: "At that time, was the elder Gongyi anyone other than the monk Senghu? The five hundred disciples—were they anyone other than the five hundred immortals now present? Because in the past, during the time of the Buddha Kashyapa, they planted various roots of goodness, and through the power of their vows, they have now attained true faith. They have met their teacher again, left home life with true faith, and, having exhausted all defilements, attained the path."

At that time, the World-Honored One, having explained the causes and conditions to the assembly, the fourfold community rejoiced and faithfully put his teachings into practice.