Barlaam and Josaphat: A Christian Tale of the Buddha (18 page)

Josaphat returned to his palace. He had brought peace to his land, and he spent his father's wealth wisely by giving it to the poor. He gave his possessions to the needy and shared all he had. He did not wish to own more than the poor people he helped, and they were in great need. When he had given away all he owned, he sent for his lords. When they were all assembled, the king spoke his thoughts: “My lords, I have sent for you so that you can hear my will. My father is dead. He could not be saved by his high position, his sovereignty, his kingdom, his great power, his fortress, his city, his wealth, or his lineage. Even I myself, his son, could not save him, and I did not wish for him to die. Now he is dead and must go to justify his works and be judged. Nothing will be hidden, and the works he has done in this world will be apparent. He will be judged for all he has done, and the same will come to all who live in this world and to all who will ever be born in it. My lords, as you know, I am a Christian like yourselves. You are my brothers and my friends, and you have reconciled yourselves to God through holy Christianity. I am in fear for my soul. For a long time I have wished to live as a hermit, and I still long for it. I stayed in this world for my father's sake, until he was willing to convert to God. Now his soul is in God's hands, and I will leave this world. I will not stay with you any longer, for I wish to change my life and dwell with my master, if I can find him. This world is like a deep well full of sweet poisoned water, and I will not dwell here—I have stayed too long and it has weighed on me for some time. Now I will take my leave of you and give you my crown. I will not be your lord any longer. You must choose another.”

The noblemen of Josaphat's kingdom responded with one voice: “Sire, for God's sake, take it back, take it back! Is it true that you would leave us? This is your land and your inheritance. We would suffer great harm if you were to leave us, and only with great sorrow would we be separated from you. Sire, for God's sake, consider this: it would be a cruel sin to abandon this kingdom, for no one can rule it better. Sire, for God's sake and for the sake of the cross, do not permit a foreign king to claim the land.”

The noise of the people's unhappiness grew. Everyone in the city was in tears, and everyone lamented and regretted Josaphat's decision. They showed great sorrow and cried out loudly. There was much weeping and lamentation, and the people's mourning was to be pitied because their pain would not be relieved and they would find no comfort.

Josaphat said, “My lords, cease your lamenting and leave your sorrow. Do not weep, for your king goes away for a good reason. To fight against the devil is a good battle, for the body is full of filth and a weak vessel for the soul. A man who rules a kingdom makes mistakes, and I know with certainty that no one can reign justly. Disloyalty and immoderation make war against what is right, and a ruler must do many wrongs: send men to death, say false things, go against the truth, hear false judgments, disinherit good men, and undertake wars to defend the land. Orphans must be lost, widows wrongly destroyed, poor knights ruined, and slanderers heeded. This is what earthly kings do. They do not think of the good. To save my soul, I must leave these things behind.”

Then the cries were renewed along with a great clamor of grief, and the noise from the weeping grew louder. Throughout the city, they cried out in laments for the brave and wise Josaphat who wanted to leave his inheritance and renounce his crown. He did not want to hold them all his life. “Sire,” they said, “for God's sake, have mercy! If you leave us like this, we will be delivered into shame. Evil kings and wicked counts will destroy your kingdom. For God's sake, good sire, listen to us. You have sixteen cities and one hundred castles. Not a single pagan remains—they have all become Christians. You brought them salvation and they have been baptized. Now you will leave them? You are their lord, their brother, and their ancestral king. You are an unfaithful friend if you would leave them like this! Listen to our supplications, stay with us out of mercy and because we beg you not to leave!”

“My lords,” he said, “this cannot be. I must seek my master, for I promised to do so a long time ago. Now I will go to find him. I wish to spend whatever remains of my life in the hermitage. My lords, I am a faithful friend to you if I go to heal my soul, for I should not value a kingdom more than my soul. In fact, I am surprised that I have stayed for so long. You should not regret my departure—you should desire it since I go to save my soul. I am king and I give the kingdom back to you. God will not abandon you! I am sorry to leave you and it pains me to depart, but I must leave you to go and pay for my sins. For God's sake, my lords, do not weep, but listen to me and make peace with my decision, for you can choose a lord who will be a good king and worthy of the reign.”

He called Barachie forward. This Barachie was a wise nobleman of good reputation. He had been a Christian for a long time, and he was one of the learned men who attended Nachor's disputation. I described him before, and I remind you that he was the third Christian present when Nachor won the field in the joust with the astronomers.
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Josaphat called him forward and asked him to take the crown. He chose Barachie and freely gave him the land, for he loved him and trusted that the kingdom would be safe with him.

Barachie resisted. “It is not fair to burden me with what you yourself wish to abandon,” he said. “It is not a privilege to receive what you do not want. The land and the inheritance are yours. Be wise and keep them. My lord, listen to reason: your people need your guidance. It would be wrong to leave them, and disloyal, and disloyalty is not wisdom. It is not right that you should leave your kingdom.”

“My lord, for God's sake, cease this complaint,” said Josaphat. “There is no point to it, for I will make you king, Barachie. I swore to my master a long time ago that I would be with him. There is nothing more to say. I am going, and I am leaving you the crown.”

Barachie said, “You know that it would not be right to leave this place without your people's consent. Can pity not move you? If the kingdom falls, it will be your fault. You must teach your people. If you wish to honor your bond with them, you must govern, correct, keep, and protect them. How do you know what I will do when I am king of the land? If I do harm, as many other kings do, it will be your fault. Ah, Josaphat, do you not see that it would be wrong to betray us? The land is yours and you can very well save your soul here while you are king. If you stay, the laws that you introduced will grow stronger, but if you abandon us, they will no longer be feared and respected.”

Josaphat said, “Good, dear friend, although the laws first came from me, those who have become Christians will keep them well. All India is Christian now. There is no castle or town where God is not served. The entire kingdom has been converted and all the people have turned to God. If I leave my office, it is because I am not worthy to hold it, and I wish to leave it with dignity. You will rule the people well.

“You are worthy of the crown, and worthy is the king who gives you the kingdom you merit,” Josaphat continued. “If you receive it with humility, then your worth will be doubled. Consider your lineage—your family is noble enough for you to become king. Put aside your hesitation since the kingdom falls to you and the crown claims you. Be on guard against the evil in the world. Life goes quickly, and everyone is the same when the time to die arrives. You must take the kingdom, and I must go to other things.”

“No, I will not do it,” Barachie said. “I will not take it. You must seek another king, because I am not worthy.”

Josaphat left him. The day ended and night arrived. All the people went back to their houses. Josaphat thought about how he could best acquit his obligations toward God. He spent the whole night writing a letter. He recorded his reasons for leaving his home and his kingdom. He named Barachie king and sent word of his choice to his nobles. He did not know a better man in all the kingdom or one more worthy of the honor. He humbly asked that they recognize Barachie as their king. Then he left the palace, intending never to reenter it. He left his letter on the dais and departed.

But the people came out into the streets, sobbing and crying out loudly, “Josaphat has betrayed us and he is leaving. Go after him and bring him back to the palace. If he is not willing to be king, he must be king against his will. We will keep him by force since he would force us to let him leave.” All the lords went after him. They crowned him in his palace, in front of all the people of the city, and cared little for what he wanted. The noise was loud and the cries great. Never was a king crowned so unwillingly. He swore to his barons that they crowned him for nothing and for nothing would he hold court. From that day forward they would never see him on the throne, if it were up to him.

The lords proposed a compromise: they would do his will and would not force him to remain, but they asked Josaphat to crown a king who knew how to keep his law: “Good sire, choose a lord who knows how to rule us!” they pleaded.

“My lords,” he said, “I will do so.” He stood and took hold of Barachie and put the royal ring on his finger. Josaphat crowned Barachie against his will in front of all his people. Josaphat did not want to be king anymore. He gave the office to Barachie, for whom it was a burden, but he was forced to take it by the great cries, the loud noise, and the complaints of the assembled lords.

Josaphat counseled him gently, “King Barachie, now you rule this land. Now you must take pains to exalt God and his law, as is fitting for a loyal king. If you wish to rule your people well, you must remain loyal to your lords. Reason and rectitude will give your heart intelligence and restraint. Carry rectitude as your standard so that unreason does not harm it. Worship the Lord God and the holy church as I have always done. Counsel the poor, and do not accept gold or silver for doing wrong. Sire, be attentive, fearful, and watchful. Be humble, eschew pride, and stop at the threshold before entering a room. Keep good counsel. Keep your land in peace. You will have a palace, houses, towers, and castles, but do not disdain the poor people of your empire because of all the honors you enjoy.”

With these words, Josaphat kissed the king and the barons around him. He took his leave humbly and they all cried with pity. They were sorrowful and regretted their loss. As Josaphat departed, the weeping people surrounded him. They were most sad and sorrowful, and they were dismayed to see their lord leave. There were so many people assembled that Josaphat could hardly leave the city. All day they accompanied him and were reluctant to let him go. They did not want to leave him before nightfall, but then the darkness separated them.

How extraordinary that such a wise and noble man would leave his inheritance, his lands, and his honors for the sake of his Creator! Josaphat fled to the hermitage, leaving his land and his reign. He went joyfully and happily since he exiled himself for God. He left all the delights of the world, and he constrained his body to bring his soul to salvation.

When Josaphat's lords turned back, he fled, and never did a happier man escape. Those left behind were sad and went home confused and sorrowful, but Josaphat went joyfully to seek God, leaving behind his honors and his lands. He had on rich silken clothing, but beneath his royal vestments he wore the hair shirt that Barlaam had left him. He came to the home of a poor man, who offered him lodging and received a rich reward for his hospitality, since Josaphat gave him his clothes. Then he traveled on with joy and great haste. He carried neither water nor bread. His heart was satisfied because it was filled and illuminated with virtue. All his thoughts were with God; he did not think of anything else. He reprimanded himself and chastised his body. He lived in the hermits' wilderness and thought only of serving God. He sought never to be separated from him.

My lords, do not doubt me, I would not lie to you. Josaphat entered the place where the hermits dwelled and was enlightened by God. But the place was large and the way was hard. This was the hermitage of Sanar, a deserted wilderness and a thick wood with no paths through it. A severe drought was in the land and had lasted more than three hundred days. There were no houses, castles, or fortresses, and only caves offered the covering of a roof. No one lived there except hermits who had left the world behind. There was little joy and much suffering, exile, desolation, and a great many snakes.

The wilderness was vast and its trials were many. Josaphat entered it gladly, praising our Lord that he had reached the harsh, wild hermitage. He lived on roots and herbs; these were sweet medicines that would bring his soul to glory when its victory was perfected. The devil assailed him and took many forms to try to deceive him, but God directed Josaphat's way. He was with him and remained with him. When the devil tried to make him sin, Josaphat remembered the scriptures and made the sign of the cross against the devil, who found him so full of firm resolve that he could not discourage him or make him sin.

The noble and gentle Josaphat moved alone through the hermits' wilderness. He wandered without direction and chastised his body by fasting and going without sleep. He suffered as he walked, naked and in prayer. When he remembered the devil, he burned for God. His limbs became blackened and he was nothing but skin and bones. He had a hard and cruel bed at night, whereas before he had reposed with great comfort and pleasure in his royal chambers, but the harsh bed seemed delightful to him and he lay there in safety. The young man was happy and joyful because he turned his thoughts to God. Each day he prayed for Barlaam. He did not know what had become of him or where he dwelled, and he prayed that God would allow him to find his master. Josaphat sought Barlaam for two years, and he suffered many trials and much pain, but God led him and would save him. As Josaphat wandered through the hermitage, he trained his heart as he praised and served God. Never did a count or king love his Creator so much that he would abandon such great honors to travel through the wilderness, living on herbs in the woods.