Heavenly Messengers

If you approach our monastery in the dark on your first visit here high in the Kander Valley, when you step outside the next morning you’ll probably rub your eyes in disbelief at the sheer magnificence of the rock face stretching into the sky right behind the monastery.

Often the monks get asked if they’re worried by this precarious situation. Their answers might be succinct, slightly bored or even humorous and may involve commenting on the insubstantiality of all formations – to which, of course, even the hardest rocks belong.

This year, on an idyllic summer morning, the mountains responded. There was an enormous bang coming from the upper area of the cliff face, right next to the high waterfall near the monastery. A huge cloud of rubble and dust drifted into the valley, accompanied by threatening rumbling noises.

After all the commotion calmed down an impressive trail of destruction became visible. On their way down huge boulders had cut trees to mid size, leaving deep craters when they hit the valley floor. Our neighbour’s house was badly damaged by flying rocks and debris – fortunately he happened to be on the side of his house that wasn’t flattened and he was not harmed. Some tourists nearby and the postman had to run for their lives. In the end the house and the postman’s car had been demolished, but miraculously no human beings were hurt.

…When rock slides tumble unexpected down mountains and we’re able to step out of the way, we can still say, ‘Well, that was lucky,’ or, ‘I’m sorry about the ones who got hit!’ Temporarily shaken out of our habitual perspective we may stop to consider our own vulnerability. But the sudden effect such an extreme event has on us usually doesn’t hold our attention long; after a phase of shock or wonder we go back to business as usual.

However, in the same way the mountains from the four directions were approaching the king unnoticed, necessitating informants to make him aware of his situation [Pabbatopama Sutta, The Simile of the Mountains (SN 3:25); Also Here], so the ‘divine messengers’ (devaduta) of ageing, sickness and death approach us quietly.

They are called heavenly messengers not because it feels divine to get old and sick but because they can make us aware of a reality that reveals itself completely only after we have established a direct relationship with them. A mental realization alone of ageing, sickness and death is not sufficient to fully comprehend their true message.

But maybe we can suspect they are messengers from an unknown realm, pointing us to an altogether different dimension of being, if we include the fourth of the devadutas – the meditating monk, who in the Buddha’s life story appeared before him after the other messengers of ageing, sickness and death.

Awareness of these first three—as representatives of our own fragility and transience—points to the limitation of a life in which we feel trapped by the futile endeavour to control processes of nature. The meditating samana as the fourth member of the team represents the human potential to realize in this very life the complete eradication of the suffering we experience in the face of ageing, sickness and death.

This reflection by Ajahn Khemasiri is from the Forest Sangha Newsletter #86, January 2009, not currently available online.