Foreword

In 1907, the pioneering German monk, Venerable Ñāṇatiloka, published the English version of The Word of The Buddha. It is described as “An outline of the teachings of the Buddha in the words of the Pāli Canon.” It consists of a selection of authentic teachings from the suttas that expound on the core Buddhist teaching of the four noble truths (including the noble eightfold path).

For almost 25 years, I have been using The Word of The Buddha as a textbook to introduce my monastic students to the Buddhist suttas. Indeed, every anagārika (postulant) and sāmaṇera (novice monk) must complete this course in basic Buddhist teaching before they are allowed to receive the higher ordination as a bhikkhu (fully-ordained monk). I have taken such steps to establish “quality control” in the monks under my training so, at the very least, they are made aware of what the Buddha really taught from the most reliable source, the suttas.

Unfortunately, there is a problem. Although the Dhamma is timeless, the usual presentation has become as if overgrown by impenetrable thickets of tradition. I have received countless well-intended criticisms that all the repetitions are discouraging, the similes are so archaic as to be obtuse, and some revered renderings of key Buddhist terms are rusted shut. The exegesis is well past its use-by-date.

Rather turn on the electric light, than complain about darkness.
Ancient Chinese saying, updated.

This little book, then, is not another translation. It is a new type of translation — not so much for detached scholars but for those who immerse their whole lives in these teachings. I have followed Professor A. K. Warder’s insightful advice: “It is the sentences which are the natural units of discourse and which are the minimum units that have precise, fully articulated meaning. For purposes of study we have to assign approximate meanings to words and list these in vocabularies, but these generalised meanings of words are extremely vague, whereas sentences have exact meanings. In translation one may find close equivalents for sentences, whilst it is often impossible to give close equivalents for words.” (Introduction to Pāli, p. 2)

Thus, in order to convey the meaning, I have chosen to translate sentence-for-sentence and not word-for-word. A word has no intrinsic essence outside of a sentence.

My authority to translate rests on my reputation as a well-known Buddhist meditation teacher, first trained to think in Cambridge University and then trained to be silent for 9 years under Ajahn Chah, as an author of many books on meditation and a teacher of Pāli to many monks, and with 50 years immersed in the life of a renunciant, open to scrutiny.

For example, for many years I have consistently protested against the traditional translation of “concentration” for the Pāli word samādhi, instead preferring “stillness”. This is not a trivial point for debate among philologists, for it cuts to the very heart of the Buddhist path to freedom. Nor is my protest to serve an ego—quite the opposite! The practice of concentration, and the willpower on which it depends, actually reinforces the ego. On the contrary, stillness, and the letting go/renunciation on which it depends, brings the ego to cessation.

This is not the final version. Translations will always be a work in progress. I only hope that this version will elucidate, inspire and challenge. Students have remarked on listening to classes based on earlier drafts of this book that it is “like listening to the teachings in the suttas for the first time—their power is frightening and, at the same time, compelling.” As for improvements, I welcome better sentence-by-sentence translations but only when they arise from someone immersed in these teachings, living as a renunciant for the cessation of all ego or any concept of a permanent essence within or beyond the five khandhas.

Sabbe dhammā nālaṃ abhinivesāyā (MN 37)
There is nothing worth keeping.

Ajahn Brahm, 2024