In the previous and first article of this series, we discussed where taking refuge in the Noble Triple Gem is concerned, Buddha can be interpreted as more than a historical religious figure and as the ultimate goal of Buddhist practice. Accordingly, if Buddha is a destination, there must be a path to get there. Today, I invite our readers to consider the Dhamma as the path to that destination.
In the Theravada (literally, the teaching of the Elders) tradition, the Tripitaka or the three baskets is considered the most authoritative, authentic and comprehensive compendium of the Buddha’s teachings. In the absence of a Dhamma teacher, the Tripitaka is the standard against which any ambiguities in an individual’s interpretations of the Dhamma should be resolved. Though the standard presentation of the Tripitaka, all 57 volumes in today’s print format, is considered sacred by Buddhists worldwide, the absolute object of sacrosanct reverence is the essence of the Buddha’s teaching contained within its pages. Here, I refer not to the text itself, but the actual essence they can convey. I mean the spirit of the teaching, which goes far beyond the linguistic devices and rhetoric of the language in which it is presented. The spirit of the Dhamma is not contained within the words of the texts, but rather, the texts merely attempt to convey a viewpoint, an attitude; a frame of reference, a perspective, or a way of thinking which transcends the words employed for the job. 

Although the two concepts may seem poles apart, in the hope that it would help our readers better comprehend this idea, I wish to draw on the very mundane example of something we are all familiar with: love. The word “love”, along with its numerous synonyms, is employed to convey a complex and powerful emotion that can be hard to define or explain. Different people may have different understandings and experiences of love, depending on their culture, personality, and relationships. It can mean different things to different people and different things to the same person in different contexts. However, this word and its equivalents in other languages are used universally to communicate an emotion that can hardly be precisely, accurately and completely described by words. At best, it can only ever aspire to fully achieve the speaker’s intended idea. For instance, we sometimes hear people express their feelings of affection to another by saying “I love you”, followed soon after by “I love you very much,” and perhaps even, “I love you very, very much!” all in the same conversation. Making a rather dispassionate and clinical examination of these expressions, one would question the need to amplify the word love with the adverb “very”, and whether the word “love” by itself is inefficacious or downright incapable of conveying the full spirit of the emotion. However, there are other instances where the shortest expression of this idea, just the three words “I love you,” feels like it does the trick and conveys the full effect of the intended emotion. So why do we see this distinction? This is because, only the originator of an idea can know precisely, accurately and completely the full spirit of an idea, and depending on the originator’s as well as the recipient’s perception of the meaning of words used to transfer this idea, the full spirit of the message may or may not be transferred fully.

This analogy demonstrates that the literal word is not the embodiment of the spirit of an idea, but rather a medium which, if used skilfully, conveys an idea from one to another. Nowhere is this truer than in the Dhamma. It is not the letter of the teaching, but rather the spirit of the teaching that is paramount. This is a very important phenomenon to get our heads around as it explains the significance of noble friends (kalyánamitta) on our journey to salvation. Sadly, it seems that this crucial point is grossly underestimated among many modern-day practitioners. It is a common misconception today that self-study of the Dhamma, essentially the written words uttered by the Buddha, as contained in the Tripitaka, and perhaps meditation are all the tools that one requires to attain the noble stage of Sótapanna. Whilst that would be most convenient, unfortunately, it is not true. This is in large part due to what we have discussed above. To comprehend the intended meaning – the spirit of the Supreme Buddha’s (the ultimate noble friend) teaching, one needs instruction from a noble friend, i.e., someone who, in turn, would have once received their instruction and thereby their own initiation into the noble lineage (Áryan kalana weta) through yet another noble friend. This is because the true essence of the teaching can only be captured and perceived through wisdom at a supramundane level. With the exception of Supreme Buddhas and Silent Buddhas, wisdom at the supramundane level, first appears in the mind of a Disciple Buddha aspirant at the point of his elevation from the stage of putujjana (wordly being) to Sótapanna, at which point, of course, he becomes one of the eightfold noble disciples. Ultimately, every person who has ever achieved the state of Sótapanna can be traced back in their lineage to a Supreme Buddha. 
Wisdom is a mental factor (cetasika). Mental factors are aspects of the mind that apprehend the quality of an object. By their very nature, they only arise with the mind, prevail with the mind, and cease with the mind. They cannot manifest anywhere other than with the mind, and therefore, a mental factor cannot exist longer or shorter than the mind that it modifies. Therefore, in the presence of the wisdom mental factor, the mind is able to capture the spirit of the Dhamma (which is the object it takes) and enables the mind to comprehend, if the language is understood, the intended meaning – in our case the spirit of the words being communicated.

To use a further analogy; Imagine a ball which is so greasy and slippery that you could not hold it with your bare hands without it slipping out. Also, imagine that there is, a special glove, which, when worn on the hand, offers good grip so that despite the ball being slippery, it can be held in the hand without dropping. Now, if someone wished to hold this ball in their hand, they would, of course, first need to slide on the glove, for without it, as the ball is greasy, the bare hand would not be able to grab it. Further, if someone else might wish to retrieve this ball from them, they would also need to put a glove on. Only those with the glove would ever be able to hold this ball for as long as they desired. Anyone without the glove, no matter how much they might like to hold the ball, would not be able to do this. Allow me now to relate this analogy to the matter of our discussion. The greasy ball is the equivalent of the true spirit of the Dhamma. The hand is the mind, and the glove is the wisdom mental factor. Just as the greasy ball can only be passed from hand to hand (person to person) if both giver and taker have a glove on, the true spirit of the Dhamma can only be passed between two individuals, even if they are exchanging the letter of the Dhamma, if their minds have the wisdom mental factor present. And just as in the analogy, the glove can be slipped on and slipped off, the wisdom mental factor can at times be present and at other times be absent, even in the same individual. So, just as it would be required for two people who wish to pass the greasy ball from one to the other, that they must both be wearing a glove at the moment of passing it, it is necessary that both the noble friend’s and the prospective stream-enterer’s minds possess the wisdom mental factor when the Dhamma is being expounded. This explains why it is essential that a worldly being (putujjana) must listen to the Dhamma expounded by a noble friend, i.e., someone who has at least attained the first noble stage of comprehension, for him or her also to experience a glimpse of Nibbana (Buddha – please see previous article) for the very first time. It is a prerequisite condition for becoming a Sótapanna. There is much evidence of this in numerous suttas. For instance, in the Sotāpattiphalasutta (SN 55.55), we find the following dialogue, “Monks, when four things are developed and cultivated, they lead to the realisation of the fruit of stream-entry. What four? Associating with noble friends, listening to the true teaching, rational application of mind, and practising in line with the teaching. When these four things are developed and cultivated, they lead to the realisation of the fruit of stream-entry.” For the benefit of our readers, I quote the four prerequisites in Pali, namely, Sappurisasaṁsevo, saddhammassavanaṁ, yonisomanasikāro, dhammānudhammappaṭipatti. Considerably worth noting here, that the instruction is to, one, associate noble friends – those who have seen the true spirit of the teaching (Sappurisa) and, two, to listen (savanaṁ) to the true teaching. The Buddha clarifies that the fruit of stream-entry is only achieved by listening to the teaching. I will leave it for our readers to make their own minds up then, whether there is any indication by the Buddha here, either directly or by inference, that the stage of Sótapanna can be attained by any other means of taking in the Dhamma, such as reading, self-reflection, or meditation. Not only does this appear to be out of the question, but it is also essential that even when the Dhamma is listened to, it must be expounded by a noble friend.

So, it makes a whole lot more sense to regard the noble friend, who, by virtue of their insightful comprehension of the Dhamma, has earned the merits to be called a noble friend, as the embodiment of the spirit and essence of the Buddha’s teaching, rather than the letter of the Dhamma. An excellent testament to substantiate this argument can be found in the Upaddha sutta (SN 45.2). Here, the venerable Ananda makes this observation: “Sir, good friends, companions, and associates are half the spiritual life,” and the Buddha promptly points out his error by replying, “Not so, Áanda! Not so, Ánanda! Good friends, companions, and associates are the whole of the spiritual life.” 
Now that we have understood that, as Buddha aspirants, it is essential to associate noble friends on the path to our salvation, what, in fact, is the spirit of the Dhamma that they are able to confer upon us, and we must aspire to instil within us? There is a very well-known quote by the Buddha: “yo dhamman passati, so man passati.” One who sees the Dhamma sees me. This is such a delightfully profound utterance by the Buddha, as He reveals to us that Buddha is a timeless denotation of Nibbana. How so? Well, the Dhamma can be seen or realised at any point in time, even today, over two centuries after His passing away. Therefore, He could not have referred to a living, breathing, Buddha, but a Buddha that could always remain visible to anyone who has seen the Dhamma. As discussed in the previous article – Buddha is Nibbana. So then, what could He have meant when He said, if you see the Dhamma, you see Nibbana? To answer this, it would be helpful to make a connection to another one of His quotes. In the Mahāhatthipadopama sutta, the Buddha says “yo paticca samuppadam passati, so dhamman passati. So dhamman passati, so paticca samuppadam passati.” Meaning, one who sees dependent origination sees the teaching. One who sees the teaching sees dependent origination.” Here, it is clear to us that if one comprehends the law of dependent origination, he comprehends the Dhamma. From earlier, if one comprehends the Dhamma, he comprehends Buddha, and therefore Nibbana. Combining the two statements, we can now deduce that if one comprehends the law of dependent origination, he comprehends Nibbana.

This, indeed, is a marvellous revelation to the Nibbana aspirant as it sheds light on what it is that needs to be done to realise Nibbana. In the previous article, having made reference to the fact that Nibbana is a state of “no becoming” (nāparaṃ itthattāyāti), I left our readers with a question which I promised to revisit in a future article. “Becoming of what?” Although we will not be tackling this topic in today’s issue, I make reference to this point again here because whatever it is that this becoming refers to, it is the law of dependent origination which delineates the causes of such becoming. It details the origination of such becoming and the causes upon which its origination depends, hence the aptly named law of dependent origination. Even without an in-depth understanding of the principles of cause and effect, most people understand that if there are certain causes which lead to the rising of a certain effect, then the cessation of such causes will lead to the cessation of the respective effect. Therefore, it seems we have now made a metaphorical home run, by connecting the dots. Buddha is Nibbana – the Ultimate Destination. To get to that destination, we need a path. The cessation of becoming, although the concept might still be somewhat vague and fragmented to our readers, is the path to Nibbana. As it is the spirit of the Dhamma which holds the insightful wisdom leading to the cessation of becoming, Dhamma is the Ultimate Path.