“How do you plead to your charges?” a jury of monks demanded of Ananda.
“I see no fault in what I did, sirs,” Ananda responded shakily. “I loved my master, I devoted my whole life to him, I do not understand why I am being punished in this way. I asked my master endless questions and also I did ask him to live on, twice in fact, I simply didn’t know I needed to do it a third time. If I’d known that, I certainly would’ve done it! And yes, I did accidentally step on his robe one time, but I didn’t mean to do it, it was an accident! As for the women, I will not lie—I genuinely believed they would add to our community.”
“Do you confess your guilt or do you not, boy?”
“I have white hair, sir, I am not a boy.”
“You ARE a boy,” the monk in charge announced, and I nodded firmly to myself, “Put that boy in his damned place.”
“You did not ask the Perfect One enough questions, boy, do you or do you not acknowledge your guilt?”
Ananda lowered his eyes. “I do accept my guilt, sirs.”
“You did step on the Perfect One’s cloak, boy, do you or do you not acknowledge your guilt?”
Trembling slightly, Ananda nodded. “I do accept my guilt, sirs.”
“You took the side of women, boy.”
Ananda shook his head. “I took the side of the Perfect One’s stepmother, sirs. She was his nurse, she fed him from her body when his own mother died. I did not see it as wrongdoing on my part to suggest that she might be included in the sangha.” The jury of monks stared at Ananda in stunned, horrified silence. Finally, in a wavering voice, Ananda spoke. “Nevertheless, I do accept my guilt, sirs.”
“And most of all, boy, most of all, when the Perfect One gave you repeated hints that he required you to beg him to live forever, you did not do it, which makes you—YOU—responsible for his death. Do you or do you not acknowledge your guilt?”
Ananda began to weep at this point; his whole body shuddered violently. “I was under the influence of Mara, masters, I did not see that at the time but I do now. Mara tricked me, sirs, he tricked me into wickedness, but I do accept my guilt, ohhhh lord I doooooooo …”
As Ananda crumpled to the floor and sobbed pitifully, I nodded firmly to myself. “Good,” I thought. “That is good.”
“And now,” I thought, “at long last I achieve my blessed reward—Extinction.”
And oh, bikkhus, my extinction felt well-deserved indeed.
About the Author
Chris Matheson is a screenwriter and author. His film credits include the three Bill & Ted movies and Rapture-Palooza. His books include The Story of God and The Trouble with God. He lives in Portland, Oregon.
