Dharma Talk:Mahākāśyapa, the One to Whom the Mind-Seal Was Transmitted by the Flower

Date: 08/02/2025   08/03/2025

Location: Star Ocean Meditation Center

Teacher: Otto Huang

Dharma Talk

Mahākāśyapa, the One to Whom the Mind-Seal Was Transmitted by the Flower

Mahākāśyapa, also known as Kāśyapa or Kāśyapa Buddha, means “tortoise” and is also translated as “Drinker of Light.” It is said that in ancient times, one of his ancestors attained the Way when a spiritually endowed tortoise appeared, bearing a mysterious pattern upon its shell. Thus, the family took “Tortoise” as its surname. Another tradition says that in ages past there lived an immortal who absorbed sunlight for sustenance and concealed himself from all radiance. But when he appeared, his entire body emitted glorious light. Mahākāśyapa, being a descendant of this sage, thus inherited the name “Drinker of Light.” He was born beneath a pipphalī tree (the very species known as the Bodhi tree), hence his personal name, Pipphalī.

Among all of the Buddha’s disciples, five bore the family name Kāśyapa, yet only Mahākāśyapa was referred to simply as “Kāśyapa.”

In the beginning, Kāśyapa followed heterodox paths, but later he took refuge in the Buddha. Leading five hundred disciples, he practiced austere asceticism in the mountains by the river Vedikā. The ascetic practice (dhūtaguṇa) entails wearing rag robes, going on alms-rounds, enduring the elements, and living a life of detachment. Because he upheld these disciplines with earnest diligence, he was praised as Foremost in Ascetic Practice, and was highly esteemed by the Buddha, who extolled him as “Vast in Conduct, Deep in Practice.”

Once, the King of the Devas offered a golden blossom of the pārajaṭa tree to the Buddha on Gṛdhrakūṭa Mountain. The Buddha ascended the seat and held up a single flower. All those assembled were perplexed and silent, not understanding the Tathāgata’s intention. Only Mahākāśyapa smiled subtly, for he had penetrated the Buddha’s inner meaning.

The Buddha then declared:

“The True Dharma cannot be conveyed through words or appearances. Only the still heart of nirvāṇa may comprehend it. The Dharma’s true form is formless; it is a subtle, direct transmission beyond scriptures and symbols. This I entrust now to Mahākāśyapa.”

This is the transmission of mind—the famed “twirling of the flower and subtle smile” at Vulture Peak, the original source of the Zen (Chan) tradition’s mind-to-mind transmission of the Treasury of the True Dharma Eye.

Mahākāśyapa disliked living in monasteries such as the Bamboo Grove or Jetavana Monastery. He even found the communal harmony there distasteful. What he cherished was solitary sitting in the open air, contemplating corpses among graves, and patching robes beneath trees. He believed that dwelling among stench and bones was most fitting for cultivating contemplation on impermanence, suffering, non-self, and impurity.

He persevered in his austere dhūta practices without fear of storms or sun, dwelling beneath forest trees or among skeletal fields. No matter who tried to dissuade him, he never abandoned his path of hardship.

As Mahākāśyapa aged, his devotion to ascetic life only grew stronger. Once, while the Buddha was residing at the Deer Mother Lecture Hall, he summoned Mahākāśyapa. At that time, Mahākāśyapa came wearing rag robes stitched from refuse cloth, with long hair and beard, walking with great difficulty. New monks did not recognize him and, seeing his unkempt appearance, cast scornful looks. Some even tried to bar his approach to the Buddha.

Perceiving their minds, the Buddha called out from afar:

“Mahākāśyapa! You have come! I have reserved a seat for you—come and sit beside me!”

The monks were astonished to hear this. They had not expected that this humble-looking elder was the renowned Venerable Mahākāśyapa. After bowing respectfully, Kāśyapa stepped back and said:

“Blessed One! I am your humblest disciple. I do not dare take the seat you have prepared.”

The Buddha then spoke to the assembly of Kāśyapa’s vast virtue and merit, declaring that his practice paralleled the Buddha’s own ascetic path. The Buddha proclaimed that, had Kāśyapa not met him in this life, he too would have realized enlightenment and attained Arhatship.

The Buddha exhorted him not to continue his austerities in old age, advising him to put aside rag robes and wear the robes offered by lay devotees, and to rest in quietude without excessive strain.

Despite such compassionate encouragement from the Buddha, Mahākāśyapa refused to abandon his practice. He said:

“Blessed One! To me, ascetic practice is not suffering, but joy. I do not worry for clothing, nor do I fret over food. I have no concern with worldly gain or loss. I abide in the purity and freedom of liberation.

The dhūta practices, as taught by the Tathāgata, are the most solemn and disciplined way of life. To be habituated to such a life is to be able to endure, to be content in simplicity. I uphold this for the direct strengthening of the Saṅgha, and for the indirect benefit of sentient beings. I joyfully and willingly maintain my austerities. I beg the Blessed One to forgive my stubbornness.”

The Buddha was greatly pleased. Gazing at Mahākāśyapa, then turning to the monks, he declared:

“In the future, the Dharma will not be destroyed by Māras or heretics, but by the internal decay and collapse of the Saṅgha. What Kāśyapa has said is true. To uphold the Dharma and keep the light of truth shining in the world, the Saṅgha must be strengthened. To strengthen the Saṅgha, one must live a life of gravity and discipline. My True Dharma—such as that upheld by Mahākāśyapa—shall be entrusted to him as its guardian.”

Then the Buddha said to him:

“Mahākāśyapa, go now and continue your cultivation. I shall not hinder you. Come to see me whenever you wish.”

Time passed, and the law of impermanence made its mark. In the Buddha’s eightieth year, word spread that the Tathāgata was entering parinirvāṇa. At that time, among the disciples, the elder Venerable Mahākāśyapa and the youthful Ānanda were regarded as the most fitting successors to the Buddha’s teaching—especially Mahākāśyapa.

When the Buddha entered parinirvāṇa in Kuśinagara, Mahākāśyapa was in the northern kingdom of Takṣaśilā, leading five hundred monks in teaching and conversion. Upon hearing the news, he was overwhelmed with grief and led the monks through the night toward Kuśinagara. Some were silent and somber; others prostrated, weeping upon the ground.

Among the Saṅgha was a monk named Subhadra, one of the group known as the “Six Heretical Bhikkhus.” Rejoicing at the news, he said:

“Why are you all grieving? With the Buddha gone, we are now free! While he lived, he restrained and scolded us constantly—this wrong, that wrong, so tedious and bothersome. Now that he’s passed, we can finally relax!”

Hearing this, Mahākāśyapa admonished him, saying:

“At this time, when the Tathāgata has entered parinirvāṇa and all beings grieve the loss of their refuge, how can you, deluded one, take pleasure in such a thing?”

It was due to this occurrence that Mahākāśyapa felt the urgent need to compile and preserve the Buddha’s teachings. Thus, the sacred responsibility of transmitting the Dharma fell upon him.

On the ninetieth day after the Buddha’s passing, the compilation of the Tripiṭaka (Three Baskets) began. On the second day, Ānanda recited the sūtras, Upāli recited the Vinaya, and the elders examined and confirmed the texts. In this way, the First Council was solemnly and successfully completed.

That Mahākāśyapa could lead such a vast gathering without splintering the Saṅgha testifies to his greatness. At the time of the Buddha’s parinirvāṇa, his reputation and authority were firm as a mountain.

Some twenty or thirty years after the Council, Mahākāśyapa grew weary of the world and prepared to enter nirvāṇa. By then, he was certainly over one hundred years old.

He went to Ānanda and entrusted him with the Buddha’s teachings, appointing him to continue the transmission. Then, ascending into the sky, he visited and worshiped each of the eight stupas containing relics of the Buddha.

Returning to Rājagṛha, he went to bid farewell to King Ajātaśatru. The guards said the king was asleep, so he quietly departed to Mount Kukkuṭapāda, southwest of the city.

Upon his arrival, the three peaks of the mountain opened, forming a natural meditation seat. Sitting upon a mat of grass, he declared:

“Now, by the power of my samādhi, I shall preserve this body. Covered by my rag robe, I shall await the arrival of Maitreya Bodhisattva in sixty-seven kalpas. When he descends to become a Buddha, I shall offer him the Buddha’s robe and aid in his teaching of beings.”

Having spoken thus, the three peaks closed, concealing his body.

When King Ajātaśatru heard of Mahākāśyapa’s passing, he was overwhelmed with grief. He immediately went to see Ānanda, and together they ascended Mount Kukkuṭapāda. As they approached, the three peaks opened by themselves. Within, they beheld Mahākāśyapa seated in deep meditation, his body covered in celestial flowers.

After worship and offerings, the two withdrew, and the mountain peaks closed again. Gazing back at the silent, sacred grove, they reflected that for sixty-seven kalpas, Mahākāśyapa would preserve the Buddha’s robe and await the descent of Maitreya Buddha, to whom he would transmit the robe and continue the Dharma’s legacy. Their hearts were filled with awe.From the story of Venerable Mahākāśyapa, it is clear: though the life of the body may be finite, the Dharma of the Buddha shall be transmitted endlessly into the future.