The Last Rites of the Fate

A Tale of Silence and Reflection

And thus the moment arrived, of the last rites of the murderer who took the time to go around showing off his weapons.

The auspicious reason for the removal of the body at that time The monks later also spoke a ṭhnama. The monks were politely asked to perform the last rites.

At that time, the Head of the Vadavala, one Venerable Thero preached a sermon in, which he explained the way of Patachara to help the distressed mother's soul of the murdered man.

Then the unthinkable happened. That means, the mother of the evil son bowed from mat sitting and laid desk at the feet of the Venerable and stood aside and talked, Sir, what is the connection between your teachings that you preached this day and my son's death?

Then one more bhikkhu who was in attendance said that he hoped to reduce your woes via that Dhamma discourse.

Venerable, I don't feel for the killing of my son. No joy. She sat down again on the mat and sarcastically asked me to tell her a Dhamma story, in a way I could understand, about the killing of my son.

Like people who would come for the last public rites of an innocent farmer who passed away in that village, as many as twenty or thirty people gathered in one place at the time of the murderer's last rites. All were watching closely to see how it would play out.

When another monk who had been there to accompany the murderer Upasaka for his last religious rites, it started to preach another Dhamma sermon based on a Jataka story.

But the mother's stood up who didn't let the sermon go on more than a few minutes said 'Excuse me, Venerable, I have heard that Dhamma sermon. It has nothing to do with my son's death, she said of the comments made in it.

Oh Venerable, is there any story (Jataka) that can make clear the death of my son?

she said, sitting back down on the mat.

There was a one or two minute silence. Even the monks who had tried to cover their faces with their wata books fell silent.

The one leading the funeral procession spoke to it again.

We still have some time left for the cremation ceremony, let's complete the funeral procession. The mother of the killer would not go along with that.

That auspicious moment may never happen when my son's body can be cremated. I will not have my son's body dry in the oven.

My son Venerable,

I want to understand how my son died and thus have mercy on me, she said and sat down on the mat again.

The youngest monk there, who had lived among the monks for about 13 years, continued the sermon. Then a younger person there took the microphone that the older monk wore on a belt and set it down in front of the younger monk.

Not accustomed to sermons, the elder started preaching (wrote, recited) the story of a parrot falling near an ascetic and another parrot falling among thieves in a haphazard manner. Everyone listened to it peacefully until it was time for the sermon.

Immediately, after the sermon of the younger monk the mother of the thief stood up, went and bowed at the young monk's feet, and made the elder monk to stand. The old monk took it off and looked at her closely.

She, who had yet to cry, fell into loud sobs. Remember, venerable sir, in Dhamma school the day when I came and handed over my son to you.

Why did you not teach my son such Dhamma while you had such Dhamma with you?

She started crying much more loudly.

No one came to quiet her weeping. 

At this time, the little Venerable rose from his seat and started to speak to the young Venerable for reconciliation. Then the thug's mum stopped.

The young Venerable lowered himself from his seat, took the microphone, and held it close to his mouth. 

The little Venerable secretly glanced at the other Venerables, their faces were all hidden behind the book.

At that, the thug's mother began crying again.

You need to cool it, Mrs. Venerable. The esses little Venerable said in a forceful tone.

How did the Venerable manage to cool?

She began to lament.

Madam, I'm attempting to resurrect your beloved son.

Being the son of a Buddha, I can do it. First, to relax, reply to that I ask you without fibs.

All right, Venerable, I will tell you whatever you want. The end of that sentence,she said and grew quiet again.

Madam, have you ever heard of people being shown off as weapons and dying?

There are many such things, Venerable

Very well, Madam. Did you work toward or against those things?

The murderer's mother did not respond to that.

What has happened that arahants taught great murderers such as Angulimala?

The spirit of this Madam's silence brought us to the global fame that we have today.

This was said by the Venerable Thero who finished his sermon by saying that if not just these women, but if we too become silent, no one can stop us from being instilled with the same hatred that we bring with our very own tax money.

Whether that comes in the form of the hatred of people verging on that of this brother that died amongst us or through the hatred we, ourselves, are forced to pay.

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