The Buddha as a parent

by Gil Fornsdal


Most contemporary Buddhists know that Prince Siddhartha, the Buddha to-be, left his family in search of liberation on the day his son, Rahula, was born. Many have been perplexed, sometimes outraged, at such a seemingly irresponsible act. What is less well-known, though, is that after his awakening, the Buddha became his son’s primary parent for most of the boy’s childhood. From the time Rahula was seven, he was under the care of his father, who proved to be a remarkably effective parent: Rahula had reached full awakening by the time he reached adulthood. So we can ask, what kind of parent was the Buddha? What kind of parenting techniques did he use? How did an enlightened teacher convey his spiritual message to his own child?

The scriptures do not offer much detail about the relationship between the Buddha and Rahula, but various hints provide a very interesting picture of how the teacher guided his son’s maturation. While an earlier story describes how Rahula came to practise under his father, most of these hints are contained in three discourses, which, when read together, follow the pattern of the three successive training forming the path to awakening: when Rahula was seven, the Buddha taught him about virtue; when he was a teen, the Buddha instructed him in meditation; and when he was twenty, the Buddha taught him liberating wisdom, Rahula’s gradual maturation to adulthood thus paralleled his progress along his father’s path to awakening.

When my older son turned seven, I began to wonder what kind of spiritual guidance I could offer him and his younger brother. At a minimum, I wanted them to learn enough about the practices and teachings of Buddhism so that as adults they could turn to these resources if they desired or needed to. I also thought it would be wonderful if they could feel at home in Buddhism so that no matter where they went in life, this home would always be available as a refuge. And finally, because the greatest wealth I know is the well-being, peace and compassion. I have found through my Buddhist practice, I’ve often wondered how I can pass along these riches more broadly to the next generation as a kind of spiritual inheritance.

Remembering that Rahula had entered his father’s care when he was seven, I searched through the Pali discourses to learn what I could about how the Buddha taught his son.

I found the question of how to leave a “spiritual legacy” beautifully addressed in the story about the way Rahula came to practise under his father. Six years after he left his family, and one year after his awakening, the Buddha returned to his hometown.

Seven-year-old Rahula, on the urging of his mother, went to meet his father to ask for his inheritance. If Siddhartha had remained at home, Rahula would have been in line to inherit the throne. But as a renunciate living a life of poverty, what could the Buddha pass on? In response to Rahula’s request, the Buddha said to Sariputta, his right-hand monk, “Ordain him”.

Rather than receiving the throne, Rahula inherited his father’s way of life, a life dedicated to liberation.

While it is unlikely that my son, will shave his head and take robes anytime soon, I would still like to expose him to the basic Buddhist principles that have so deeply informed my own life.

When I came across the three discourses where the Buddha teaches Rahula, I was surprised that the teachings seemed not only still fresh but also relevant to raising a child in modern America. In fact, these discourses have now become a guide for me as a parent.


Virtue

The first story illustrates how Rahula was taught to live a life of integrity. When he was eight, Rahula told a deliberate lie. The sutta called The Discourse of Advice Given to Rahula at Mango Stone (Middle Length Discourse 61) tells how the Buddha dealt with this. Having first meditated, the Buddha went to his son. Rahula prepared a seat for him and, as was the custom, put out a bowl of water so the Buddha could rinse his feet. After his father cleaned his feet, a little water was left in the bowl. The Buddha asked, “Rahula, do you see the small quantity of water left in the bowl?”

“Yes”, replied Rahula.

“As little as this”, the Buddha said, “is the spiritual life of someone who is not ashamed at telling a deliberate lie”.

I imagine Rahula taking a deep gulp upon hearing this.

The Buddha then threw out the remaining water and said, “Thrown away like this is the spiritual life of someone who is not ashamed at telling a deliberate lie”.

The Buddha then turned the bowl upside down and said, “Turned upside down like this is the spiritual life of someone who is not ashamed at telling a deliberate lie”.

And to drive the point home, the Buddha then turned the bowl back upright and said, “As empty as this bowl is the spiritual life of someone who is not ashamed at telling a deliberate lie”.

He then taught his son, “When someone is not ashamed to tell a deliberate lie, there is no evil that he or she would not do. Therefore, Rahula, train yourself to not utter a falsehood even as a joke”.

This part of the story reminds me that there is force but no inner strength behind angry castigation of children. Calmly, when he thought the time was right, the Buddha made his point without punishment or anger.

In our efforts to understand Prince Siddhartha’s decision, it becomes clear from the suttas that the Buddha regards one’s obligation to one’s highest spiritual destiny, that is, to win release from the bonds of samsara, as more compelling than one’s obligation to one’s mundane parental and marital commitments when pursuing such a goal does not cause one’s family members harm. Nevertheless, it is very rare in Asian Buddhist countries today to find a young man who would leave his wife and children to become a monk. The general ordinance, implicitly accepted by just about everyone, is that a family man must wait until his children have grown up and become independent before he can leave the home life to become a monk. The same, of course, applies to a mother who wishes to become a nun.

(Courtesy Inquiring Mind)