In Chapter 79, we learned how Buddha made his stepbrother a monk. Nanda was an unwilling monk and in this post, let us learn more about his monastic life.

Among the many stories preserved in the Buddhist scriptures, the account of Ven. Nanda stands out as deeply human, psychologically insightful, and surprisingly relatable. It is not a story about a saint who entered the spiritual path with perfect faith and pure motivation. Instead, it is about a man torn between worldly love and spiritual obligation, a man who entered the monastic life reluctantly and struggled honestly with desire.

More importantly, it reveals the Buddha’s remarkable skill in guiding people according to their individual character and circumstances.

While the Buddha was residing at Jetavana Monastery, news reached him that his younger half-brother, Ven. Nanda, had become deeply unhappy as a monk. Nanda openly admitted to his fellow monastics:

“Friends, I am not happy living the life of a monastic in this Dispensation. I practise reluctantly. I am unable to continue observing these noble precepts. I intend to give up the practice and return to a layman’s life.”

There is something refreshing about Nanda’s honesty. He did not pretend to be spiritually accomplished. He did not hide his struggles behind religious language. He simply admitted the truth of his heart.

This episode also highlights an important aspect of Buddhism: becoming a monastic is entirely voluntary. There is no eternal condemnation for leaving the Saṅgha. No divine punishment awaits someone who disrobes. One enters freely and may also leave freely.

Yet the Buddha understood that Nanda’s public discouragement carried consequences beyond himself. Imagine the younger brother of the Buddha going around declaring how miserable monastic life was. Such statements could weaken the faith of others and discourage sincere practitioners.

So the Buddha summoned Nanda and asked gently whether the report was true. Nanda admitted it openly.

The Buddha then asked the deeper question:

“Why are you practising against your will? Why do you wish to abandon the holy life?”

Nanda’s answer revealed the true source of his suffering.

When he had originally followed the Buddha out of the palace carrying his alms bowl, his fiancée — the Sakyan princess Janapadakalyāṇī — had run to the window with her hair half-arranged and cried out:

“Please come back quickly!”

Those words haunted him constantly. His mind remained attached to her beauty, affection, and companionship. Though his body wore the robes of a monk, his heart still lived in the palace.

Nanda’s confession reveals a timeless truth: external renunciation is easier than internal renunciation. One may leave behind possessions, status, or relationships outwardly while inwardly remaining chained by longing and fantasy.

At this point, the Buddha did something extraordinary.

Using his supernormal powers, he brought Nanda to the celestial realm of Tāvatiṁsa Heaven. Along the way, the Buddha deliberately showed him an old female monkey, disfigured and burned, sitting miserably on a charred tree stump.

Then, upon arriving in the heavenly realm, Nanda saw 500 celestial maidens of astonishing beauty attending upon Sakka, king of the devas.

The Buddha asked him:

“What do you think, Nanda? Compared to these celestial maidens, how beautiful is your fiancée Janapadakalyāṇī?”

Nanda replied bluntly that compared to these heavenly beings, his beloved looked like the burned monkey shown earlier on the journey.

The Buddha then said:

“If you practise diligently, I assure you that you shall obtain these celestial maidens.”

Immediately, Nanda’s enthusiasm for monastic practice returned. He now practised eagerly, motivated by desire for heavenly reward.

At first glance, this episode can seem shocking. Why would the Buddha encourage spiritual practice using sensual temptation? Isn’t Buddhism supposed to teach renunciation of desire rather than rewarding it?

This is where the principle of skillful means becomes important.

The Buddha understood that beings operate according to different levels of maturity. A teacher cannot always begin with the highest truth immediately. Sometimes one must first work with a person’s existing motivations before gradually elevating them.

Nanda was not yet ready for complete renunciation. But he could at least be guided away from coarse worldly attachment toward disciplined practice. The Buddha skillfully used Nanda’s existing desires as a stepping stone rather than trying to crush them prematurely.

This is similar to how a parent might first motivate a child with simple rewards before the child eventually grows to appreciate deeper values independently.

However, the story does not end there.

After returning to Jetavana, the Buddha informed the monastic community about what had happened. Then he instructed them to mock Nanda by calling him:

“A hired servant.”

“A spiritual businessman.”

They ridiculed him for practising merely to obtain celestial women.

To modern readers, this may sound harsh or even cruel. One might wonder whether the Buddha was humiliating his own brother publicly.

But the purpose was not humiliation for its own sake. The Buddha was holding up a mirror before Nanda so he could clearly see the poverty of his own motivation.

Religious practice driven by greed for sensual pleasure — even heavenly pleasure — is spiritually immature. Wise people do not respect spirituality pursued merely as a transaction for future enjoyment.

The ridicule pierced Nanda deeply. Shame arose within him. But this was not destructive shame rooted in self-hatred. It was moral shame — the recognition that one’s motivations were ignoble and beneath the dignity of the spiritual path.

This became the turning point.

Filled with urgency and remorse, Nanda withdrew into solitude and practised earnestly. Gradually, his mind turned away from sensual desire and toward liberation itself. Through diligent meditation and insight, he eventually destroyed all mental defilements and attained arahantship — full Awakening.

The very man who once wanted to abandon the monastic life became one of the Buddha’s great disciples.

The transformation is profound.

Nanda first entered the path because of an obligation.
Then he practised for the sake of heavenly pleasure.
Finally, he transcended all craving entirely.

This progression reveals something deeply compassionate about the Buddha’s teaching style. The Buddha did not demand perfection at the starting point. He worked patiently with people exactly as they were.

Rather than rejecting flawed practitioners, the Buddha guided them gradually toward wisdom.

The story also reminds us not to become arrogant about our own motivations. Many people begin spiritual practice because of suffering, fear, loneliness, heartbreak, stress, or even the desire for blessings and protection. Rare indeed is the person who begins with pure aspiration for Nibbāna.

Yet imperfect beginnings do not prevent genuine transformation.

What matters is whether we continue refining the heart.

At the end of the story, after attaining Awakening, Nanda approached the Buddha and respectfully declared:

“You once assured me of the 500 celestial maidens. I now release you from that promise.”

The Buddha replied that he already knew Nanda had attained liberation. The promise had become irrelevant the moment Nanda’s mind was freed from craving.

This final exchange beautifully captures the essence of Buddhist practice. What once seemed irresistibly desirable eventually becomes insignificant when wisdom arises.

The person who once longed for celestial pleasures had discovered something infinitely greater: freedom itself.

May all be well and happy.

Points for Discussion

Honesty in Spiritual Practice

• What happens when spiritual life becomes performative instead of sincere?
• Why is Nanda’s honesty important?
• Is it better to openly admit our struggles rather than pretend to be spiritually advanced?

External Renunciation vs Internal Renunciation

• Nanda had left the palace physically, but mentally he was still attached. Why is mental renunciation harder?
• Can laypeople also experience this tension between outward discipline and inward craving?
• What attachments do modern people struggle to let go of?