Date: 11/15/2025 11/16/2025
Location: Star River Meditation Center
Teacher: Yunquan Huang
Dharma Talk
A Fault Without Intention
Thus have I heard:
At one time, in the land of Śrāvastī, there was an aged man who lived with his only son. Their life was poor and difficult, yet they relied upon each other with deep affection. Later, inspired by the teaching of the Blessed One, both father and son renounced the household life: the father became a bhikkhu, and the son was ordained as a novice, serving as his disciple.
On one day, the elder bhikkhu and the novice went forth together to seek alms. Unaware of the distance they had walked, they found that night was falling before they could return. The elder, weary with age, walked slowly, and the novice supported him with both hands, urging him onward.
As they entered a dark forest, the shadows deepened. Nothing could be seen, only the sound of their footsteps, the rustling of leaves, and the cries of beasts echoing in the distance. The novice, knowing wild animals prowled there, held tightly to his master’s shoulder, half pulling, half pushing him in haste toward the forest’s edge.
But the elder, worn from the day’s journey and blind in the dark, stumbled when pushed in the novice’s haste. He fell upon a stone, and in that moment struck his head and passed away.
The novice, seeing his master fall, lifted him in panic, but the body was lifeless. Realizing his master was dead, he wept aloud in grief.
At dawn, the novice returned alone to the monastery.
When the bhikkhus heard of what had happened, they condemned him, saying:
“Behold! Through your carelessness, you have killed your own father.”
“Indeed! To push your father against a stone—how unfilial!”
The novice, stricken with grief and unable to defend himself, went to the Blessed One to pour out his sorrow.
The Blessed One said to him gently:
“Sit here, child. What you wish to say I already know. Your master’s death is not your fault.”
Though comforted by these words, the novice’s face remained clouded with grief.
The Blessed One, seeing this, smiled and said:
“Hear now a story:
In times past, there was a father stricken with grave illness. His son, devoted and anxious, sought medicines everywhere. Each day, after giving medicine, he helped his father to bed, hoping he might rest. But their dwelling was a hut of thatch, damp upon the ground, and filled with flies and mosquitoes. The father could not sleep for their buzzing.
The son, eager to bring peace, chased the insects with a fly-whisk, but could not drive them all away. At last, in haste and anger, he seized a staff and struck at them in the air. Just then, one insect alighted upon his father’s nose. The son, not seeing clearly, struck with the staff, and in that instant his father died.”
The Blessed One paused and then said:
“Though the son, out of devotion, caused his father’s death, it was without intent to harm. Such is an accident, not a crime. To condemn him as a murderer would be to wrong him unjustly.”
The Blessed One turned to the novice and asked:
“When you urged your master forward, was it not out of fear that beasts might attack him, and your wish was only to leave the forest quickly, not with any thought of harm?”
The novice bowed his head and answered:
“It is so, World-honored One.”
The Blessed One said:
“Though my story differs from your experience, the meaning is the same. In the Dharma, what is judged is the heart. You bore no evil intent, and so there is no fault. Take comfort, and cultivate your practice with diligence. The way of the Buddha is compassion.”
Hearing these words, the novice was consoled. From that day onward, he practiced with greater vigor, and advanced upon the Path.
