Samantabhadra, the Bodhisattva

One afternoon, a little boy followed his grandmother into a pagoda to pay respects to the Buddha. Passing through the main hall, he suddenly stopped short. Beneath the statue of a gentle bodhisattva stood a large white elephant. Its back curved low as if it were kneeling, and its long tusks swept upward. He had never seen an elephant in a pagoda before. He tugged at his grandmother's hand and whispered, "Grandma, why is there an elephant in the pagoda?"

The old woman smiled and drew him down to sit on a cool step. She would tell him all about it, she said. This white elephant was very special. She asked him to count its tusks. The boy counted under his breath, then cried out, "So many tusks, Grandma. Six of them!" She nodded. That was right: a white elephant with six tusks. And the one seated on its back was Samantabhadra, the bodhisattva whom people in Vietnam call Bồ Tát Phổ Hiền.

The elephant is a very strong animal, and a very gentle one too. It carries heavy loads and travels far without ever tiring. Its white color is the color of purity. In Buddhism the white elephant stands for wisdom that overcomes obstacles, and for perseverance in doing good. "And the six tusks, Grandma?" the boy asked. The six tusks, she answered, are a reminder of six things a good person should strive to do. To know how to give, and how to hold oneself back from wrong. To know patience, and to keep on trying. To know how to quiet the heart, and how to see clearly.

The boy looked up at the bodhisattva on the elephant's back. "Then who is Samantabhadra, Grandma?" She spoke slowly. In Buddhism there are many bodhisattvas, and each one helps people in a different way. A bodhisattva, in Buddhism, is one who seeks awakening, someone on the path to becoming a buddha. Samantabhadra, she said, is the bodhisattva of action. People say that Samantabhadra is action itself: going out into the world to do good. He rides his white elephant everywhere, not for pleasure, but to practice goodness wherever he goes.

She pointed up at three statues standing side by side. "Look," she said. "In the middle is the Buddha." On one side was Manjushri, whom people in Vietnam call Văn Thù, riding a blue-green lion. On the other side was Samantabhadra on his white elephant. Together the three are called Hoa Nghiêm Tam Thánh, the Three Holy Ones of the Flower Garland. Manjushri stands for wisdom, the power to see things clearly. Samantabhadra stands for action, the will to set to work. Knowing without doing, she explained, is knowledge that just sits still. Only with both, seeing clearly and working steadily, does a good path take shape.

The boy listened with wide eyes. "So what does Samantabhadra do, Grandma?" She hugged him close. He made ten great vows, she said, and they are recorded in a scripture called the Avatamsaka Sutra. The Avatamsaka Sutra, known in English as the Flower Garland Sutra, is one of the most influential scriptures of Mahayana Buddhism in East Asia. Those ten vows were not meant to be learned by heart, she said, but lived as ten ways of acting every day. She would tell him about a few of them.

The first vow is to bow in reverence before all the Buddhas. And anyone at all may one day become a Buddha. So wherever he goes and whoever he meets, Samantabhadra sees what is fine and kind in that person, and honors it. The boy could do the same, she said. If he practiced seeing the good in his friends and in everyone around him, his heart would grow wider and warmer.

Then she went on. There was one vow she loved very much: when others do something good, to rejoice with them. She asked him to think about it. If a friend got a good grade and he was glad for that friend, the joy would be twice as large. But if he were jealous, he would only make himself miserable. Samantabhadra teaches people to be glad for the good in others, as if it were their own.

The boy nodded thoughtfully. "Is there more, Grandma?" She smiled gently. Of course there was. The last vow was the most beautiful of all. Samantabhadra vowed to give away all the good he had done, however much it was, to all beings and to keep nothing at all for himself. "Isn't that strange?" she asked. Most people want to keep the bigger share for themselves, but he gives everything away. He believes that goodness, when it is shared, does not run low. It only keeps on growing.

The boy thought for a while, then asked, "Grandma, why does anyone need vows? Isn't it enough just to do good?" She stroked his head. That was a good question, she said. He should picture a river. If there is plenty of water but no direction to flow, it only becomes a stagnant pool. A vow is like the course of that river. With a vow, what a person does has somewhere to go. It lasts, and it can travel a very long way. Samantabhadra rides his elephant everywhere because those ten vows lead the way.

The boy asked again, "Then how is he different from the other bodhisattvas, Grandma?" She answered without hurry. Each one has a nature of its own. Avalokiteshvara, whom people in Vietnam call Quan Âm, is compassion, coming at once to anyone who cries out in suffering. Manjushri is a bright mind that sees through every tangle. Ksitigarbha, whom people in Vietnam call Địa Tạng, is a vow of iron resolve, going into the darkest places to save people. And Samantabhadra is the hand that keeps working, doing good again and again without rest. Together these four are the four great bodhisattvas that people in Vietnam honor in their pagodas.

She told him more. People believe that Samantabhadra has a holy mountain bound up with him. It is called Mount Emei, known in Vietnamese as Nga Mi Sơn, and it stands in China. Legend says he rode his white elephant there from a faraway land and stayed. That mountain is one of the four sacred mountains of Buddhism in China. In 1996, the world recognized it as part of the heritage of all humankind. For generation after generation, people devoted to religious practice have made their way there, hoping to learn his diligent, steadfast way.

At last, she took his hand and spoke softly. In many pagodas in Vietnam, she said, there is a statue of Samantabhadra. Each time the older men and women chant his ten vows, they remind one another of something simple. Loving others is not enough. Knowing what is good is not enough either. One has to set to work.

The boy stood up and looked at the white elephant once more, for a long time. Now he no longer saw just an elephant made of stone. He saw a bodhisattva quietly setting out on the road, traveling near and far, his hands still doing good, his heart still giving to others.