Verse 12 & 13

12. “As the woodland groves though in the early heat of the summer month are crowned with blossoming flowers even so is the sublime Dhamma leading to the (calm) of Nibbana which is taught (by the Buddha) for the highest good. This precious jewel is the Buddha. By this (asseveration of the) truth may there be happiness.

13. “The Peerless Excellent one (the Buddha) the Knower (of Nibbana), the Giver (of Nibbana), the Bringer (of the Noble Path), taught the excellent Dhamma. This precious jewel is the Buddha. By this (asseveration of the) truth may there be happiness.

14. “Their past (kamma) is spent, their new (kamma) no more arises, their mind to future becoming is unattached. Their germ (of rebirth-consciousness) has died, they have no more desire for re-living. Those wise men fade out (of existence) as the flame of this lamp (which has just faded away). This precious jewel is the Sangha. By this (asseveration of the) truth may there be happiness.

https://accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/snp/snp.2.01.than.html

Commentary:

Verses 12 and 13 celebrate the Buddha and the Dhamma he taught. Verse 12 offers us a particularly beautiful image: woodland groves bursting into bloom, even in the early heat of summer.

Flowers are beautiful, but they are also the beginning of something more. Under the right conditions, they may develop into fruit. In the same way, encountering the Dhamma can be the beginning of our journey towards enlightenment.

Think about those moments when we read a passage of Buddhist teaching or listen to a Dhamma talk that deeply moves us. Suddenly, something becomes clear. We feel inspired, our confidence grows, and the world seems a little brighter. We may even feel that we are ready to change our lives.

These moments are like flowers in bloom.

But here is the catch: a flower does not guarantee a fruit.

For a flower to develop into fruit, the conditions must be right. It needs nourishment, time, and the opportunity to grow. Similarly, inspiration alone is not enough to bring the Dhamma to fruition in our lives.

We may feel deeply moved today, only to return to our old habits tomorrow. We may appreciate the wisdom of letting go but struggle when someone insults us. We may understand the importance of compassion but lose our patience when things do not go our way. Sometimes, we even misunderstand the teaching because we interpret it through our existing preferences and prejudices.

There is nothing unusual about this. Understanding a teaching intellectually and putting it into practice are two different things.

The Dhamma gives us the opportunity to grow, but we must do our part. We need to reflect on what we learn, practise it in everyday situations, and gradually cultivate the qualities that weaken greed, hatred, and delusion.

We cannot force a flower to become fruit simply by admiring it. Neither can we attain the fruits of the Dhamma simply by admiring its beauty.

The Dhamma shows us the way; our practice creates the conditions for its fruits to emerge.

Perhaps this is one reason the Dhamma is so precious. It does not merely offer us something beautiful to believe in. It offers us a path to walk, a practice to cultivate, and the possibility of genuine transformation.

Verse 14 presents a challenging image: the flame of a lamp going out. It describes those wise ones who have brought the causes of future becoming to an end.

When we encounter this imagery, it is natural to wonder what it means. Does the extinguishing of the flame mean that we cease to exist altogether?

Many of us are uncomfortable with the idea of non-existence. We would prefer to believe that something of us continues forever after death. Perhaps we imagine an eternal heavenly realm, where we retain our identity and continue to experience happiness.

These are understandable wishes. Yet Buddhism invites us to examine the assumptions behind them.

The Buddha was asked questions about the fate of a Tathāgata after death: whether the Tathāgata exists, does not exist, both exists and does not exist, or neither exists nor does not exist. He did not endorse any of these four positions. These questions are often discussed in connection with the limits of conceptual thinking when applied to the liberated one after death.

Why?

Perhaps we are trying to fit something beyond our ordinary experience into categories that were never adequate to describe it in the first place.

Imagine someone who has never encountered electricity trying to understand how a torch produces light. Without an understanding of electricity, the person might insist on explaining the light through magic or sorcery. We could offer many descriptions, but the explanations would remain trapped within the person’s existing framework of understanding.

Our situation when thinking about Nibbāna may be somewhat similar. We are accustomed to existence as we know it: a world of changing experiences, identities, desires, and fears. When we imagine what lies beyond Samsara, we tend to picture either a continuation of this existence in some improved form or its complete annihilation.

But are these the only possibilities we can imagine simply because they are the only ones our minds readily grasp?

Buddhism does not ask us to replace one speculation with another. It directs our attention towards something we can understand and practise: the ending of greed, hatred, and delusion.

Beyond Eternal Existence and Annihilation

The Buddhist understanding of Nibbāna is not simply the promise of an everlasting heavenly existence. Even the heavenly realms described in Buddhist teachings are conditioned states, subject to impermanence. They are not the final liberation from Samsara.

At the same time, we should be careful not to reduce Nibbāna to the idea that an enduring self is destroyed and becomes absolute nothingness. Such a description assumes that there is an independent, permanent self to begin with—something Buddhism asks us to examine rather than accept without question.

Nibbāna is the cessation of greed, hatred, and delusion. With the ending of the causes that sustain renewed becoming, the cycle of birth and death comes to an end for the liberated one.

This does not mean that we can fully picture what Nibbāna is like after Parinibbāna. Nor does it mean that we need to invent an answer to satisfy our desire for certainty.

Consider the image of the extinguished lamp once more. We can observe that the flame has gone out, but the image alone does not tell us that the flame has travelled somewhere else, nor does it establish that an eternal entity has been annihilated. It points us towards the cessation of the conditions that sustained the flame.

Likewise, the verse uses the extinguished flame to evoke the end of Samsaric becoming. We should be cautious about extending the analogy beyond what it can tell us.

Perhaps the more useful question is not, “What will happen to me after Nibbāna?” but rather, “What keeps suffering going, and how can its causes be brought to an end?”

The first question can easily draw us into speculation. The second brings us back to the practice.

The sutta then concluded with the following:

15. “Whatever beings (non-human) are assembled here, terrestrial or celestial, come let us salute the Buddha, the Tathagata (the perfect One), honored by gods and men. May there be happiness.[9]

16. “Whatever beings are assembled here, terrestrial or celestial, come let us salute the perfect Dhamma, honored by gods and men. May there be happiness.

17. “Whatever beings are assembled here, terrestrial or celestial, come let us salute the perfect Sangha, honored by gods and men. May there be happiness.”

May all be well and happy.