The Four Aims Behind the Buddha's Diverse Teachings

When the Buddha taught in so many different ways, he had four aims in mind:

First, "Delight." As the saying goes, "all beings are made glad, swiftly attaining wholesome benefit." The foremost concern of the Dharma is to meet you where you are. If you want happiness, happiness is offered first; if you long to be reborn in a Pure Land, that too is offered first. Why? Because the goal is to gladden the heart. "All beings are made glad, swiftly attaining wholesome benefit"—this means fulfilling your immediate wish. This was the Buddha's first intended effect.

Second, "Generating the Good." If your capacity is greater, the Dharma lifts you further along, as expressed in: "When these sentient beings hear this teaching, they find peace in this very life, take rebirth in favorable conditions hereafter, and taste the joy of the Way." To "generate the good" means cultivating the five powers within the heart—faith, vigor, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom. The force of these five roots is far more powerful than mere delight. They bring stability in this life and happiness in the next.

More importantly, reaching the five roots in practice is a pivotal moment. Think of a tree: even if its branches and leaves don't flourish at first, as long as the roots are alive, the tree holds boundless hope and inexhaustible vitality. Once the five roots arise in you, they keep growing without ceasing, and in time they bring forth the merit and fruit of the holy path. Though in the short term the result is "peace in this life, happiness in the next," from a longer view this root-power will eventually enable one to "taste the joy of the Way," realizing the transcendent Dharma.

Third, "Overcoming Evil." As stated, "one also comes to hear the Dharma, and upon hearing it, is freed from all obstacles." When the roots of good grow still stronger, the benefit gained from hearing the Dharma goes beyond mere "delight" or "generating the good." One is able to "overcome evil"—subduing afflictions and the karmic forces of birth and death. Such a person's grasp of the Dharma grows far more profound.

Fourth, "Entering the Principle." This is the most complete stage of Dharma practice. After hearing the teaching, such a person "within the teachings, applies himself according to his capacity and gradually enters the Way." He can ultimately awaken to ultimate reality. He first understands how to work with the provisional and the real teachings, completing the short-term goal and then the long-term one, until he gradually awakens to the Middle Way and the true nature of reality.

Think of the great cloud in the sky. Though it sends down a single rain of Dharma, it nourishes the three grasses and the two trees, every herb and plant, "each according to its nature receiving full sustenance." Depending on your greater or lesser capacity, you simultaneously receive the nourishment you need. The key is that "each grows in its own way." Through a single rain of Dharma, attuned to the varied capacities of sentient beings, the Buddha enables all to receive the four siddhānta.

Let me give an example. Once Venerable Maudgalyāyana went to the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. Upon arriving, he saw a celestial being radiant in form and exceptionally majestic in bearing. He asked this deva, "When you were a human in the causal ground, what practice led to your rebirth in this heaven?" The deva replied, "When I was a human, I cultivated a single wholesome practice—non-anger."

He continued, "In my previous life I was a maidservant. My employer had a vicious temper. If I served him even slightly poorly, he beat and cursed me. But to keep my job, I held firm and never lost my temper. No matter when, no matter what, my focus was simply on not getting angry. It was precisely through the wholesome practice of non-anger that I was reborn in this heaven."

Maudgalyāyana said, "I understand." As he continued walking, he met another celestial being. Maudgalyāyana asked, "You too shine with such radiance and majesty—by what causes and conditions were you reborn in this heaven?"

This deva told Maudgalyāyana, "In my previous life as a human, I held to the precept of not speaking falsely. I was a merchant. Whether I made a profit or a loss, I always spoke the truth—nothing but honest words. By cultivating non-deception in the causal ground, I was reborn in this heaven."

Maudgalyāyana was puzzled, so he flew back down from heaven to the human world. Prostrating at the Buddha's feet, he reported the matter and asked, "World-Honored One, did you not say that to be reborn in heaven one must fully cultivate the five precepts and the ten virtuous actions? Why did these two devas attain heavenly rebirth by cultivating only a single wholesome practice?" The Buddha replied, "Because when they cultivated these practices, they made a vow—'No matter what, I must uphold this practice without fail.' What matters is that the vow guides the conduct. This is the key."

Usually, when we cultivate goodness, we have only faith to begin with: we believe this practice carries merit as its very nature. But once practice is elevated into steadfast resolve, there's a difference between saying "I will not lose my temper" and "I will absolutely never lose my temper." Friends! From faith arises deep understanding, and from that deep understanding arises a vow. He didn't cultivate goodness through faith alone—he cultivated it through the power of the bodhi-vow, so the strength was altogether different.

The same practice, when many people undertake it, may bring one merely human happiness. But when another person takes it up with a strong bodhi-aspiration, an extra force of resolve comes in. When he upholds this practice, that single practice can carry him to heavenly rebirth. So when you ask whether a particular teaching is complete, the answer lies not in the teaching itself, but in the inner resolve of the one who practices it. Thus, if you offer the practice of non-anger today to a bodhisattva, the result will not be merely rebirth in heaven—it becomes the bodhisattva's "merit and adornment," the perfections of a future pure land and of one's own body and mind.

Why does the same teaching, cultivated by different people, produce such different results? Because the Dharma itself contains four distinct benefits—delight, generating the good, overcoming evil, and entering the principle. An ordinary person may receive only the benefit of "delight" from the Dharma, relying on faith and understanding. But when certain practitioners engage a single teaching, they can "generate the good," giving rise to faith, vigor, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom—the force of the five roots.

Some practitioners go further than simply restraining anger: they "overcome evil" by subduing the mind of hatred, which is something greater still. What's more, while practicing non-anger, they may also "enter the principle." They awaken within themselves: "My mind is inherently pure—there's really no question of getting angry or not." They practice non-anger in accord with suchness. So when it comes to the practices of non-deception and non-anger, where do they stand? Human-vehicle? Heavenly-vehicle? Śrāvaka-vehicle? Bodhisattva-vehicle? In truth, they can't be pinned to any single vehicle! The same Dharma-rain nourishes different beings—each grows in its own way, each takes what it needs—and that is all there is to it.