In my previous post, I looked at the Ratana Sutta as a simple ritual with a powerful message—how the Buddha used a familiar form to calm a frightened population in Vesāli and quietly point them toward the Triple Gem.

But that raises a question I did not address: if the ritual was skilful means, what was it not? And what happened to the story afterward? This post is about the other side of that event—the limitation of rituals, and how a single episode in Vesāli may have grown into something the Buddha never taught.

Did the Buddha actually say this sutta removes calamities?

This is the question that started me down this path.

Today, the Ratana Sutta is commonly regarded as a powerful protective chant, recited for protection from danger, disease, calamity and other misfortunes. But if we go back to the actual account, did the Buddha say that?

Did he tell Ānanda that reciting the Ratana Sutta would remove the plague? Did he say the words themselves possessed supernatural power? Did he teach that sprinkling water while reciting the sutta would cause the disease to disappear?

As far as the actual story goes, the Buddha simply instructed Ānanda to learn the verses and recite them while going around Vesāli and sprinkling water. He did not explain—at least in the account we have—that this was a magical formula.

And this is important.

Because the plague eventually disappeared, people naturally made the connection. The monks recited the sutta and sprinkled water, then the plague stopped. Therefore, the recitation must have stopped the plague.

But is that necessarily what happened?

I am not saying it did not. But we do not actually know for sure.

The fact that one event followed another does not prove that the first caused the second. If I pray for rain and it rains, did my prayer cause the rain? If I perform a ritual and my problem disappears, did the ritual cause it? Maybe. But maybe not.

We need to be careful not to turn coincidence into causation simply because we want an explanation. And once people believe a ritual worked, that belief is easily passed down. The original story was that Ānanda recited the Ratana Sutta while sprinkling water in Vesāli. Later it becomes: “The Ratana Sutta protects against calamity.” Then: “The Ratana Sutta removes disease.” Then: “Reciting the Ratana Sutta is a powerful protective ritual.”

This is how traditions can evolve. I am not saying someone deliberately invented a story. I am saying an event can gradually acquire an interpretation much stronger than what was originally stated.

If rituals really worked…

There is another simple point I find difficult to ignore.

If religious rituals really worked in the way some people believe, there should not be so many calamities in religious countries. And this applies to every religion.

If prayers and rituals could reliably protect a country from war, religious countries should never be conquered. If rituals could reliably protect people from sickness, religious people should never get sick. If rituals could prevent disasters, religious communities should never experience disasters.

But this is obviously not what we see. Buddhist countries have been invaded. Buddhist monasteries have been destroyed. Buddhists have suffered persecution. Buddhist kingdoms have fallen. There have been wars, famine, disease and natural disasters in Buddhist societies.

So if Buddhist rituals really had the power to prevent these things, why did they happen?

This is why I find it difficult to believe the Buddha was teaching us to depend on rituals as protection. The Buddha himself taught impermanence. Everything conditioned is subject to change. Bodies get sick. People die. Countries rise and fall. Even Buddhism itself is not immune from impermanence. If rituals could simply override all of this, what exactly does impermanence mean?

If the devas were already there…

There is another question I think is fair to ask.

According to the commentaries, the devas were accompanying the Buddha during this trip. If that is the case, why didn’t the Buddha simply tell the devas to do their job? Why the ritualistic procession? Why did Ānanda have to walk around sprinkling water and reciting verses?

If the devas were already there and capable of protecting the people, what exactly was the purpose of the ceremony? The first two verses almost sound like a reminder to the devas: “You are receiving offerings from these people. Now show loving-kindness towards them and protect them.” So if the devas were already present, why would a ritual be required to get their attention?

This is something I don’t quite understand from the ritualistic interpretation. And there is another problem. The same commentaries that tell us the devas were already accompanying the Buddha then proceeded to explain how the Ratana Sutta can be used like a protective spell. To me, there seems to be a contradiction here.

If the devas are already there, why do we need to “summon” them through a ritual? If the Buddha can communicate with them directly, why does the ritual itself become the important part?

Perhaps we are looking at the story from the wrong direction. Perhaps the ritual was not primarily for the devas. Perhaps it was for the humans.

That, to me, is a much more interesting way of looking at the Ratana Sutta.

The Triple Gem is not another set of gods

At this point in my life, I interpret the episode as a reminder that it is far better to rely on the Triple Gem.

And no, I don’t mean that the Triple Gem is a more powerful deity than the gods of other religions. This is another misunderstanding that I think sometimes happens. The Buddha is not simply another god who happens to have more power. The Dhamma is not a magical force. The Saṅgha is not a group of people who possess supernatural powers.

Taking refuge in the Triple Gem is not supposed to mean: “I have a problem. Please make the problem disappear.”

It means something very different. The Buddha shows us a way of understanding reality. The Dhamma gives us the teachings and the path. The Saṅgha represents those who practise and preserve that path. That is a very different kind of refuge.

Rituals are reassuring — but that is not the same as power

I am also not saying rituals are completely useless. They can be psychologically useful.

When people are frightened, doing something together can give them confidence. Chanting can calm the mind. A religious ceremony can create a sense of community. It can make people feel they are not facing the crisis alone. There may even be something like a placebo effect. And I don’t think we should dismiss that. If a frightened person becomes calmer because he hears a familiar chant, that is a real psychological effect.

But we should not automatically turn that psychological effect into a supernatural claim. There is a big difference between:

“This chanting helps me remain calm.”

and:

“This chanting has the power to prevent calamities.”

The first is something we can experience. The second is a much bigger claim.

Where is this in the Pāli Canon?

If the Ratana Sutta was really intended by the Buddha as a powerful ritual to eliminate disease and calamities, I would expect to see more of it in the Pāli Canon.

I would expect the Buddha to give more instructions about it. I would expect more occasions where he tells monks to perform the same ritual during an epidemic. I would expect him to explain that the recitation itself has this protective power.

But we don’t really see this. The Vesāli episode is there. It is an important story. But we do not see the Buddha repeatedly teaching this as a standard magical procedure.

So to me, it is reasonable to ask whether the ritualistic use of the Ratana Sutta evolved later. Perhaps the original event was simply one event. The Buddha asked Ānanda to recite the verses. The people of Vesāli were reassured. The plague eventually ended. And later generations looked back and concluded that the recitation had caused the plague to disappear. Once that belief became established, the practice could naturally spread. And eventually the Ratana Sutta becomes a paritta, a protective recitation.

Again, I am not saying later Buddhists were deliberately misleading people. This is simply how religious traditions develop.

But then we have to be consistent

The Buddha discouraged reliance on rites and rituals in various places in the teachings. So it does not make sense to me that we should interpret one particular episode as the Buddha teaching the very thing he discouraged elsewhere.

If the Buddha is perfectly awakened, I would expect his teachings to have some consistency. Therefore, when I encounter an apparent contradiction, I tend to question my interpretation first.

Maybe the Buddha was not teaching a magical ritual. Maybe we are the ones who later interpreted it that way. Maybe the ritual was simply the method used to communicate with a frightened population. Maybe the people needed the ceremony. Maybe Ānanda’s recitation gave them confidence. Maybe the plague happened to subside around the same time. And maybe later generations connected these things together.

I think that is a possibility worth considering. Then the bigger question is, “What was Buddha trying to teach the people of Veshali?”

I am not saying I know exactly what happened

Of course, I cannot prove this was exactly what the Buddha intended. Nobody today was there in Vesāli. We have the Buddhist records that were preserved and transmitted over generations. So I am simply presenting my interpretation.

Perhaps the devas really did protect Vesāli. Perhaps the recitation really did have some effect we don’t understand. Perhaps the plague naturally ran its course. Perhaps the psychological effect of the ceremony helped the population.

I don’t know. And I don’t think Buddhism requires me to pretend that I know.

What I do know is that the Buddha did not explicitly say: “Recite this Sutta and the plague will disappear.” That statement comes from the interpretation of the event. And that distinction matters to me.

Because once we turn every successful outcome into proof that a ritual worked, we can very easily turn Buddhism into another system of magical thinking.

And that, perhaps, is the real question the Ratana Sutta leaves us with—not whether the chanting worked, but whether we are willing to look honestly at what we actually know.

Join me in the next post as I explore Ratana Sutta verse by verse.

May all be well and happy.