In the Western world it is well known that the great teachers often used stories and parables to convey deeper meanings. The parables of Jesus in the New Testament, the saints’ lives written in the medieval period, the colorful stories of the Baal Shem Tov in Chasidic Judaism are all good examples of this basic teaching principle. People will remember wonderful

tales more than they will memorize doctrine.

This is true also in the religions of the East, a tradition in which the fantastic tales are less well known to us. For those following the Buddhist path, the masters have handed on tales, some ancient and some very modern, which convey the ideas taught by the Buddha, who lived in northern India some time in the fifth century B.C.

The heart of Buddhism is best understood in what they call the Four Noble Truths, which say that suffering is real and not an illusion, that suffering is at its root caused by desire and that suffering can end as desire is extinguished. This teaching goes on to point out that the Noble Eightfold Path, precepts of correct living, is the path to the cessation of desire, enabling the soul to enter Nirvana, eternal bliss.

To Western eyes this idea is very odd, that all our suffering is tied to our desires. But the word used by the Buddhists for suffering is dukkha, which might be better understood as unsatisfactoriness, or a sense that this world cannot bring us lasting peace. The endless cycle of reincarnation affirmed by many Indian faiths reinforces this concept. If one believes in endless rebirth, then human suffering is eternal. Even a man who believes he is happy in life or experiences a wonderful event in life still has an aspect of suffering because he knows deep down that this good time cannot last, much as he would wish it to.

Still, this is an abstract concept, so let us turn to a pair of Buddhist parables.

Once upon a time there were two monks in a Buddhist monastery who were very good friends and always enjoyed each other’s company. It came to pass in the passage of time that both monks died. One of them had mastered the Buddha’s dharma, or teaching, and so passed from endless rebirth into Nirvana. His friend had not done so well and was reborn as a worm in a dunghill.

In bliss, the first monk wondered where his earthly friend was and, looking down from Nirvana, he saw the poor wretch in the smelly dunghill. So the enlightened soul came down to earth to rescue his friend, and spoke to the monk turned worm. “Come with me back to paradise, renounce this world and be free.”

But the former monk snorted, “No, I like living in a pile of dung; leave me alone.” The heavenly monk then grabbed the worm and pulled on him, to dislodge him from the filth and force him to come to Nirvana. But the harder he pulled at the worm, the harder the worm clung to the dung and there he stayed.

For a Buddhist, the meaning of the tale is not hard to see. The liberated soul of the first monk was full of compassion for other and did not desire anything for himself, which was why he got to Nirvana. The unfortunate monk clung to the dung, and his desires to remain in filth obliged him to stay there. So it is with all who let desire rule their bodies and souls, because clinging to our base desires is moral slavery.

A second folktale better illustrates the importance of compassion in Buddhist thought. In one of his previous lives, the Buddha had been born as a stag in the forest. As he grew, he quickly became known among other deer for his wisdom and soon became head of the herd. One day the local king, who greatly loved hunting, was given a walled enclosure in the forest by his peasants, which they forced the deer into, to make his hunting easier. Many innocent deer were captured and easily slain in this way in the royal melee of killing.

So the noble stag ruled that every day a single deer chosen by lot must go to the king to be shot and killed by arrows. This was hard news, but it meant that the many would survive and only one would perish.

But one day the lot fell on a pregnant doe. She went to the noble stag and said, “I will gladly go after my fawn is born, but to go now would kill two deer and not one. What should I do?”

The noble stag declared that justice required her to die for the good of all. But in compassion, he went to take her place. The king, who came to hunt, saw all the deer weeping as the lead stag walked forward to die. Stung to the heart at the prospect of killing so honorable a stag, and so fine a ruler among the deer, he declared that the stag should be freed.

He expected the stag to be glad because he was to be free, but the king of deer stood his ground. “How can I be happy, oh great king, if I go free and know that my subjects will continue to suffer?”

The king pondered the stag’s words, and seeing in him a wise leader, declared that all the deer should be set free. The stag still stood and refused to move and said, “How can we be happy if we know that now you will go kill other animals in the woods, the rabbits, the foxes and the bears?” The king reflected on this and agreed to spare all the forest creatures.

“What about the birds?” asked the stag. “How can we find peace if they must suffer? If you spare the forest animals, it follows that the beasts that fly over the forest should be spared out of the same compassion.”

The king agreed that they too could come under the same pardon.

“How about the poor fish that live in the rivers and seas? Can we be happy when we will know that they must suffer?”

Wounded to his heart at the realization that he was killing for pure pleasure in all his sports, the king repented and decreed that all animals were sacred from that day on. All the beasts agreed that the deer king was a great and wise ruler, and he lived for many years.

The point of the story is not simply animal rights, although strict Buddhists are vegetarians. Rather it points out that the Buddhist principle that for the truly compassionate, the happiness of one of us as an individual depends on the happiness of all of us. True compassion also requires that one be compassionate not only toward creatures like ourselves, but also compassionate to people and beings who are unlike us. In this manner the Buddha taught that the life of all creatures is sacred and worthy of our compassion.

We may smile at the folktales told by Buddhist peasants and farmers in their villages. But given the recent headlines in the news of mass shootings in churches, accusations of wrongdoing and greed for power, perhaps a bit of wisdom from the Enlightened One is not out of place in our own day.