By Geewananda Gunawardana –

Dr. Geewananda Gunawardana

From time to time, a lone voice or a newspaper article cautiously asks whether some current Buddhist beliefs and practices are fully consistent with what the Buddha taught. Many devoted Buddhists dismiss such questions as unhelpful or even threatening to the tradition. It is true that canonical and historical records can be cited in support of many present-day practices, and the tradition itself is rich and worthy of respect. Yet traditions are shaped over time by the conditions in which they are transmitted. For that reason, it is reasonable to ask where our beliefs and practices came from, what purpose they serve, and whether our understanding of the Buddha’s teaching has shifted over time. Even if such inquiry feels uncomfortable, it is both necessary and responsible.

The Pali Canon is the bedrock of the Theravada tradition. Because it was committed to writing about two millennia ago, one might ask how it could have changed. If the Dhamma is timeless, should we not simply follow the Canon as it stands? At the same time, the Canon was first transmitted orally, then written down, translated, and interpreted in many ways, giving rise to extensive commentarial traditions. It is therefore legitimate to ask whether this long process of transmission was shaped by the intellectual and cultural conditions of its time. Scholars have identified doctrinal tensions within the Canon itself, and they argue that these tensions can make it harder to discern the simple message attributed to the Buddha. If the Buddha repeatedly said that he taught one thing—the cessation of dukkha—it is reasonable to ask whether later layers of interpretation complicated that message. The issue is not whether we should abandon confidence in the tradition, but whether we should follow the Buddha’s own advice to examine teachings carefully rather than accept them solely out of reverence. In that spirit, doubts and questions should be approached through careful investigation rather than fear.

The Buddha left no writings of his own, even though writing may have existed in limited form in India during his lifetime. As a result, all Buddhist texts available to us—including the Pali Canon—have come down through the work of the monastic community and later Buddhist scholars. In that sense, they are records of what the Sangha preserved and transmitted. This does not mean that these texts are unrelated to what the Buddha taught. Rather, it raises an important question: how do we distinguish between the Buddha’s teaching itself and the wider body of Buddhism, which later came to include beliefs, rituals, and forms of mysticism?

This is not merely an academic question. As discussed below, failing to make this distinction has significant consequences for Buddhist thought, belief, and practice, as well as for our understanding of the Buddha’s teaching itself. Making that distinction is not easy, but the work of historians, linguists, and doctrinal scholars can help. Pali translator and scholar Nanamoli Thera summarizes the scholarly findings as follows:

“The (first) three discourses (of Buddha) here presented display precisely, in all their incomparably serene simplicity and without assumptions, that special fundamental teaching from which all Buddhism branches and to which it all points back. The first discourse displays this fourfold Truth as something to be realized and verified for oneself here and now; the second discloses the contradictions that infect all ‘self’ conceits; the third echoes the second from another angle” (Nanamoli Thera, 1995, Three Cardinal Discourses of the Buddha).

To say that all one needs to know about the Buddha’s teaching can be found in three suttas may sound like an oversimplification. What, then, are we to make of the many thousands of other suttas? Yet the Buddha is repeatedly portrayed as teaching one central truth: the cessation of dukkha. If that is so, then his teaching cannot consist of many unrelated messages, even if it was explained in different ways to suit different audiences and occasions. Venerable Assaji, one of the first five disciples of the Buddha, expressed this simplicity in response to Upatissa (later known as Venerable Sariputta) as follows (paticcasamuppada gatha, MV 1.23.1-10, PTS: Horner vol. 4):

Of those things that arise from a cause,

The Tathagata has told the cause,

And also, what their cessation is:

This is the doctrine of the Great Recluse.

The purpose of this commentary is not to expound the first three discourses of the Buddha in detail. Rather, it is to consider reasons for the present condition of Buddhist society and the consequences of failing to recognize that some inherited beliefs and practices may differ from what the Buddha taught. From this perspective, the issue is not limited to doctrine alone; it also shapes the moral, social, and spiritual life of a community.

According to dependent arising (paticcasamuppada), which lies at the heart of the Buddha’s teaching, unsatisfactory conditions have causes. If those causes are understood and removed, those conditions can cease. That is the practical force of the Buddha’s message. If the message is so direct and profound, however, why is it often difficult to grasp? Why do many current practices fail to provide the relief or liberation they promise? These questions lead to a further one: has tradition at times handed down interpretations that differ from what the Buddha originally taught?

These are understandably sensitive questions, and they are often avoided for two reasons. First, many people may not recognize that there is an issue to examine. Second, because the tradition is ancient, deeply rooted, and widely revered, even raising the possibility of tension within it can feel unsettling. In some settings, such inquiry is discouraged. As a result, the conversation is often postponed, even when thoughtful examination might be beneficial.

What the Buddha taught may still have much to offer the world, but to benefit from it fully we must understand it as clearly as we can. Assigning blame or finding fault are less helpful than examining how the tradition developed. For that reason, it is important to look carefully at the history of the Canon.

Siddhattha Gotama, born into the warrior-noble (kshatriya) class, may not have been formally trained in the Vedas, but he was clearly familiar with Brahminic ideas, as suggested by his dialogues with Brahmin interlocutors after his enlightenment. His dissatisfaction with the dominant worldview of his time appears to have been one reason he set out in search of truth. What he discovered can be read as a significant departure from key Brahminic assumptions. Among other things, he challenged caste superiority, ritual as a means of liberation, the doctrine of an eternal soul, Brahman as ultimate reality, ritual purity as determinative of rebirth, and priestly mediation in spiritual attainment. His stance appears critical and reformist rather than simply oppositional.

Despite these disagreements, many Brahmin youths appear to have found the Buddhist worldview compelling and joined the Sangha. After the Parinibbana, the Sangha remained a respected and well-supported institution in Indian society. Some scholars suggest that not all who entered the Sangha did so for the same reasons, and that social standing may at times have played a role alongside spiritual aspiration.

Some scholars describe the preservation of the Buddha’s teaching, or Dhamma, as unfolding in three phases. In the first phase, immediately after the Buddha’s passing, prominent followers—identified in the suttas as dhammakathikas, or “expounders of the Dhamma”—shared the teachings on the basis of foundational principles they had learned, supplemented by personal insight, and delivered them without a rigid standard form. In the second phase, the Dhamma was transmitted by the dhammadharas, or “keepers of the Dhamma,” who began a process of standardization through fixed formulas and established texts while also adding clarification and interpretation. In the third phase, greater emphasis was placed on memorization and oral transmission. Repetition, stock passages, and mnemonic verses became increasingly important. Those responsible for this task, the bhanakas, may have been especially skilled at preserving and navigating the material, even if their role differed from that of earlier teachers who focused more on foundational principles (Ellis, 2021).

During the latter part of the first millennium BCE, Brahminism spread through the eastern Gangetic plains and became a major intellectual force. In that environment, some scholars argue, monks of Brahmin background who were involved in preserving the Dhamma may have felt pressure—conscious or unconscious—to reconcile Buddhist ideas with Brahminic ones. Three conditions may have made such influence more likely: the absence of written texts in the earliest period, limited communication among geographically dispersed monastic centers, and the lack of a single central authority. On this reading, by the time of the Third Buddhist Council, elements of Brahminic thought and practice may already have entered parts of the tradition and its textual transmission (Lamotte 1988, Marasinghe 1974, Gombrich 2006).

If we follow the Buddha’s advice to the Kalamas, it may be time for Buddhists to begin a more open dialogue on these matters, even in the presence of deep-rooted faith and veneration. Such a discussion should be understood as a process of clarification rather than destruction. A reasonable starting point is to examine current practices that may sit uneasily with early Buddhist teaching. Examples often raised in this context include prayer and offerings to gods or deities for protection, health, or good fortune; ritual services and chanting associated with blessed strings or water; offerings to inanimate objects; treating merit as a quasi-salvific currency that guarantees a better rebirth or heaven; reliance on Brahminic cosmology and pantheon; astrology and auspicious times; and belief in a cosmic savior figure such as Maitreya. What these practices share is a stronger orientation toward worldly gain than toward the spiritual development of devotees.

A second and more serious consequence, in the author’s view, is the widespread difficulty of grasping the Buddha’s simple and direct message. Some blame Venerable Buddhaghosa for altering that message through commentary and translation. Others argue that important parts of teaching were lost over time, while still others believe the teaching has become too complex for modern people to understand easily.

The argument presented here is that these explanations often overlook a more basic possibility: the tradition may contain tensions between the Buddha’s teaching and later Brahminic concepts. If so, commentators attempting to harmonize two conflicting frameworks would naturally face serious interpretive difficulties. On this view, some popular interpretations of kamma and punabbhava illustrate the complexity that arises when divergent ideas are brought together. Furthermore, some researchers argue that certain popular ritual practices, especially when they become commercialized or tied to hopes for worldly gain, can place an added burden on already poor households or divert attention from more practical forms of social improvement.

This remains a sensitive issue, and many would prefer to avoid it. Some learned monks may already be aware of these concerns yet believe that the laity has little interest in such questions because devotional practices often occupy center stage in religious life. At the same time, monks who raise these issues may be misunderstood or met with resistance. For that reason, any serious discussion must involve both the laity and the Sangha. Such a conversation is long overdue, not only for our own sake but also for future generations. What the Buddha taught may still have much to offer the world, but we will benefit from it only to the extent that we understand it clearly. The most fitting way to honor the Buddha and his teaching, therefore, is not simply to preserve inherited forms, but to examine them carefully, engage one another honestly, and continue the shared effort to discern what the Buddha taught.