How the First Precept Was Laid Down

3.1 How the First Precept Was Laid Down

Begin with something most people have never considered: after the Buddha attained the Way, there was a long stretch of years in which the Saṅgha had not a single formulated precept.

Not only were there none—when Sāriputta went and asked for them, the Buddha declined to lay them down. Fascicle one of the Sifenlü, the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya, records the scene: Sāriputta rose from his seat, bared his right shoulder, set his right knee to the ground, joined his palms, and addressed the Buddha—among the Buddhas of the past, some had a Dharma that long endured and some did not; would the World-Honored One lay down the precepts for the bhikkhus early, and recite them, so that the holy life might long endure. The Buddha's answer was:

"Hold—the Buddha himself knows the time. Sāriputta! The Tathāgata has not yet formulated precepts for the bhikkhus. Why? Among the bhikkhus none has yet committed a corrupted state. When corrupted states have arisen, only then will the World-Honored One formulate precepts for the bhikkhus."

Wait; I myself know the time. Why no precepts yet? Because no one in the Saṅgha has yet offended. When someone offends, then I will lay one down—laid down to cut off that corruption.

Hold this principle fast, for it is the spine of the entire Vinaya-piṭaka: no legislating in advance—laid down case by case, as offenses arose. No event, no precept; every precept had to wait for its event, and its person.

So what was the first event—and who was the first person?

Vesālī, Kalandaka Village

At that time the World-Honored One was at Vesālī. In Kalandaka Village there was the son of a wealthy house, Sudinna by name; firm in faith, he went forth from home into the Way.

A famine year came; grain was dear, and the bhikkhus could hardly get almsfood. Sudinna thought: my native place is rich in wealth and treasure—better to lead the bhikkhus back to my village for alms. The bhikkhus would receive support, and my own clan would plant merit. So he led the bhikkhus back to Kalandaka Village.

His mother heard her son had come home, went out to meet him, and came straight to the point: your father is dead, and only I am left in this house; this family estate has no heir, and it will be forfeited to the state. Return to lay life. Sudinna answered: I cannot abandon the Way; I delight greatly in the holy life. Three times she said it; three times he answered the same.

His mother stopped urging him to return to lay life and changed her plea. She dressed up the wife Sudinna had had before he went forth—in the garments of her bridal days—reckoned the right day, and led her before him: keep your refusal to return, then, but leave this family an heir, "that your seed not be cut off," lest the estate be forfeited to the state.

Sudinna answered with a sentence around which the whole Vinaya-piṭaka would afterward turn: "That is a very easy thing. I can do it."

Easy; he could do it.—And here the text adds one line of utmost weight: "Before the Buddha had laid down the precept, he saw no stain in desire." At that time no precept of any kind forbade this; in his eyes it was nothing more than settling a worry on his mother's heart. So with his former wife, in the grove, he committed the impure act.

"From This Day Forth"

Afterward, though, Sudinna grieved day after day. His fellow practitioners saw his gloom and asked: you have long cultivated the holy life; there is no point of deportment or decorum you do not know—what weighs on you? He told them the truth. The bhikkhus were appalled, and led him before the Buddha.

The Buddha asked first—and the Vinaya records the measure of His asking: knowing, He asks; knowing, He refrains from asking; when it is the time, He asks; when it is not the time, He does not. This time, knowing, He asked: "Is it true that you committed the impure act with your former wife?" The answer: "It is so, World-Honored One! I have committed the impure act."

The Buddha's rebuke was very heavy. He spoke of desire as fire, as a torch carried into the wind, as things seen in a dream—reproof upon reproof, by countless turns. And then He spoke the founding words:

"Sudinna, you foolish man! In many ways you have opened the door to corruptions—the first to break the precept. From this day forth, I formulate a precept for the bhikkhus, gathering the ten purposes: first, the embracing of the Saṅgha; second, the delight of the Saṅgha; third, the comfortable dwelling of the Saṅgha; fourth, the faith of those not yet faithful; fifth, the growth of those already faithful; sixth, the taming of the difficult-to-tame; seventh, the comfortable dwelling of those who are conscientious; eighth, the cutting off of present-life corruptions; ninth, the cutting off of future-life corruptions; tenth, the long-enduring presence of the true Dharma. He who would recite the precept should recite it thus: if a bhikkhu commits the impure act, practicing sexual intercourse, that bhikkhu is Pārājika [defeated]; he is not in communion."

Thus the first precept was laid down. See three things in this passage.

First, the phrase "from this day forth." The precept counts from today; it does not reach back. Sudinna himself—the first offender against this precept—stands, precisely, outside its rule, because when he acted, the precept did not yet exist. From then on, at the tail of every precept in the Vinaya hangs the same exemption: the first offender commits no offense. A rule that names, by the Buddha's own mouth, the very man who occasioned it—and then exempts him. A commandment dropped from heaven could not do such a thing; only case law can: it honestly admits that it was laid down after the fact.

Second, the "ten purposes." This precept was laid down for the sake of ten things: the first seven all for the Saṅgha—embracing the Saṅgha, the delight of the Saṅgha, the comfortable dwelling of the Saṅgha, the faith of those not yet faithful, the growth of those already faithful, the taming of the difficult-to-tame, the comfortable dwelling of the conscientious; the eighth and ninth for the cutting off of corruptions; and the tenth, holding the weight at the end, is "the long-enduring presence of the true Dharma." The final reason for a precept is not to punish anyone; it is that the true Dharma may dwell long in the world. This is exactly what Sāriputta had asked for—the Buddha had not refused him; He was only waiting for the time.

Third, "he who would recite the precept should recite it thus." The moment a precept was laid down, it was woven into the recitation text—it was born to be recited fortnightly. Part One quoted the closing line of the Sifenlü's precept-text: "This is the precept-text spoken by the Buddha, recited fortnightly, coming into the recitation." Every precept laid down in this way entered that fortnightly breath.

A Law That Remembers Every Name

For the next forty-odd years, the precepts grew in just this manner, one by one: a corruption arose over gain and offerings, and a precept was laid down; a corruption arose over a quarrel, and a precept was laid down. Behind each one stands a person with a name, an event with a time and a place.

In the first summer after the Buddha's passing, five hundred elders convened at Rājagaha to compile the Dharma-treasury. When the turn came to recite the Vinaya, Mahākassapa questioned Upāli, foremost in keeping the Vinaya, and the questioning had only one form:

"The first Pārājika—where did it first arise? Who first committed it?"

Upāli answered: "At Vesālī; Sudinna the son of Kalandaka was the first to commit it." And the first Saṅghādisesa [formal-meeting offense]? At Sāvatthī; Kāludāyī was the first to commit it. So it went, category by category—where did it first arise, who first committed it. The entire Vinaya was compiled along precisely this index of places and names.

The world's law codes record articles; this law records people as well. It remembers for whom each precept was laid down, and where—because it was never an abstract list of prohibitions, but the complete casebook of forty-odd years of the Saṅgha's real life. Part One said the Vinaya is "a living casebook"; here we have seen what its being alive looks like.

This living law later left the land of its birth and traveled the trade roads and the translation halls to the four directions. Into how many houses did the one Vinaya pass? And once it had spread, was it still the same Vinaya?

The next chapter looks at what it became after it walked out into the world.