I am confused about the end of this passage, found under the first parajika rule background at the beginning of the Bhikkhu Vibhanga (link).
At that time Verañjā was short of food and afflicted with hunger, with crops blighted and turned to straw. It was not easy to get by on almsfood. Just then some horse-dealers from Uttarāpatha entered the rainy season residence at Verañjā with five hundred horses. In the horse-pen they prepared many portions of steamed grain for the monks.
After dressing in the morning, the monks took their bowls and robes and entered Verañjā for alms. Being unable to obtain anything, they went to the horse-pen. They then brought the portions of steamed grain back to the monastery, pounded them, and ate them. Venerable Ānanda crushed a portion of steamed grain on a stone, took it to the Master, and the Master ate it.
The Master heard the sound of the mortar. Buddhas sometimes ask knowing, and knowing sometimes do not ask; they ask knowing the right time to ask, and they ask knowing the right time not to ask. Buddhas ask when it is beneficial, not when it is unbeneficial; in regard to what is unbeneficial, the Buddhas have destroyed the bridge. Buddhas question the monks for two reasons: to give a teaching or to lay down a training rule.
And so the Master said to Ānanda, “Ānanda, what is this sound of a mortar?” Ānanda informed the Master.
“Good, good, Ānanda, you who are superior people have conquered the problems of famine; later generations will despise even rice and meat.
What did the Buddha mean when he asked Venerable Ananda about the sound of the mortar?
What did Venerable Ananda inform the Buddha about? I’m assuming he just informed him about the situation: that monks were pounding steamed rice.
What did the Buddha mean by the last sentence?
Perhaps Venerable @Brahmali can chime in. This is his translation.
I shall be delighted to chime in! The first thing to note is that these horse-traders were from Uttarāpatha, “The North Way”, which is just about as close to the word Norway as you can probably get in Pali. (Thanks to Bhante Sujato for pointing this out to me many years ago.) So I feel kind of obliged to answer this, “kind of” being the operative expression.
(1) Here I would follow Bhante Sujato’s principle of reading the least meaning into the Pali, which means the Buddha probably asks simply because he is curious. My guess is this would have been an unusual sound in a monastery, even potentially a breach of precepts, since cooking is not allowed for monastics.
(2) Yes, Ven. Ānanda just tells the Buddha what has happened, about how they obtained the grain and all that.
(3) I understand the Buddha to say that the monks are no longer bothered by the problem of famine, including the sort of food they are able to obtain. In contrast, future generations of monks will have great desires and only be satisfied with the best.
Yes, there are several commentaries, but unfortunately none of them has been translated into English.
I wonder if he knew the answer having heard the mortar sound before and having chewed over it on some chewy horse food. He may have been checking the purity of Ven Ananada’s intentions indirectly ‘provoking’ Ven Ananda who wasn’t an arahanth yet, to get more understanding into his own defilements to being questioned in this way, to see if he was acting out of greed for food as he might have coordinated the whole effort of obtaining this dana - the background of famine creating a simile of the saw like setting in this real live situation, except in this case the defilement is craving, rather than aversion in the simile of the saw.
I actually became a vegetarian in this life, due to my assessment that the famines in Africa during the 1970s and 1980s seemed preventable… i was vegetarian (ol) for about 15 years, then i accepted fish and seafood into my diet in anticipation of motherhood that did not occur for me. These days, i do not eat mammal or avian or reptile flesh voluntarily, though i have relied on milk and non fertilized chicken eggs as part. Between the conflicting desire not to be picky, and the desire to eat less as an alpha predator on life stirs up from time to time, it is a side dynamic in this life at this time.
This is how I understand by reading just the above passage from @Mkoll 's questions.
Sound of the mortar?
Indicated that the food is so hard and very tough (even after steaming it) to the point that the monks need to pound it so hard that makes a very loud sound before they can eat it. Moreover, it was prepared at the horse-pen which is a very undesired place to do so. In addition to that, they crushed the food on a stone (to emphasize the toughness and undesired way to prepare for food).
The meaning of this is to show that the food is extremely bad, almost inedible and is prepared in very undesirable conditions!
The Master heard the sound of the mortar. Buddhas sometimes ask knowing, and knowing sometimes do not ask; they ask knowing the right time to ask, and they ask knowing the right time not to ask. Buddhas ask when it is beneficial, not when it is unbeneficial; in regard to what is unbeneficial, the Buddhas have destroyed the bridge. Buddhas question the monks for two reasons: to give a teaching or to lay down a training rule.
This shows that the Master asks the question to give a teaching (of contentment with the little and hardship). Not that he does not know what is going on or he is curious.
Good, good, Ananda, you who are superior people have conquered the problems of famine; later generations will despise even rice and meat.
This means that the noble ones have no trouble even when they are in a very difficult time. They have no trouble eating whatever available for them (or even do not eat at all and may die). Their minds are always at peace and be content even if they are in a very difficult time.
The Buddha foresees that later generations (even monks) will lack this noble quality. They will despise even rice and meat (They have good foods, good time, good supports but they still are not content with what they have).
Perhaps part of the solution to famine then is the ultimate fate of all life: death. But for a Buddhist practitioner, that is an opportunity or training exercise.
