The Final Lesson
By Christopher Hearn
I was once told a story about a Buddhist Master and pupil. The master’s task was to convince their pupil that they should treat other people well. The master knew that convincing their pupil of this truth would be a challenge. At the time, the pupil valued money, career and material gain, and to be superior to their peers. To the pupil, if they were not personally benefiting from something, they would not take part.
With this knowledge, the master approached the pupil and said “There is one ultimate reason why you should treat other people well. It is because in doing so, you generate good karma, and eventually good things will happen in your life as a result”. The master went on by giving examples to prove this assertion. The pupil asked questions and the master answered them, satisfying the pupil’s curiosity. After some time, the pupil became convinced that the master was right, and resolved to treat other people well because of the good karma it would generate.
The next day, the master returned, and told the pupil “The real reason you should treat other people well is because it will give you spiritual and emotional fulfilment. Karma does not always manifest in an even exchange. You may not receive worldly reward for your actions, but your spirit will be strengthened”. This concept was harder to grasp, but the conversation that happened during the first lesson helped the pupil internalize this new ultimate truth. After more examples and questions, the pupil became convinced that the master was correct. The true reason for treating other people well is because it results in spiritual fulfilment.
On the third day, the master returned. Sitting down with the pupil, the master brought up the subject a third time. This time, the master said “There is one essential reason for which you should treat other people well: because it is the right thing to do. If you are able, and it does not harm you, you should always do what you can to uplift and bring happiness to someone else.” After this, the master got up and left the pupil. There was no discussion and no example. While alone, the pupil pondered this new theory. After a short time, the pupil came to accept what they had just heard as the ultimate truth. When considered with the knowledge gained from the discussions of days prior, this final statement made perfect sense.
This story has remained in my mind not because of the lessons given by the master to the pupil, but because of the way in which they were presented. The three main things that resonated with me are as follows:
No matter how difficult each theory was to grasp, the pupil did not hesitate to give it up for a new lesson that would help illuminate the truth.
The pupil had humility, and faith in their master. They were not upset at the master for presenting each lesson as the ultimate one, and never questioned if there was more to come.
The master was patient with the pupil. Each lesson provoked much conversation, and even though the master knew there were more lessons to be had, every question was answered until the pupil grasped the concept at hand.
I often think about myself in relation to this story. What if I was presented with information that rang true in my heart, but was contrary to what i spent my life learning? Would my pride block me from accepting a new truth? Am I more interested in becoming familiar with the new lessons life has to offer, or protecting the ones that took me so long to master?
If you’re reading this, I urge you to ask yourself the same questions. And think about situations in which you are the pupil, as well as ones where you are the master. What are you seeking to gain? What are you seeking to teach?
Do you feel that you’ve mastered your final lesson?
