The Buddha was very kind and compassionate despite being wrongly viewed as being too strict by many foolish people.
For example, a bad monk said this when they heard of the Buddha’s passing in DN 16 paragraph 6.20.1:
Now at that time a monk named Subhadda, who had gone forth when old, was sitting in that assembly. He said to those mendicants, “Enough, reverends, do not grieve or lament. We’re well rid of that Great Ascetic. And we are harried: ‘This is allowable for you; this is not allowable for you.’ Well, now we shall do what we want and not do what we don’t want.”
And yet the Buddha’s strictness was actually how he show compassion to his students by preventing them from doing evil so they would not suffer from said evil consequences later on.
This can be seen in the entirety of MN 66. The full sutta explains very well, here i will only quote a small part, i highly recommend everyone to read the full sutta:
Recollecting that, I thought, ‘The Buddha has rid us of so many things that bring suffering and gifted us so many things that bring happiness! He has rid us of so many unskillful things and gifted us so many skillful things!’”
“This is exactly what happens when some futile people are told by me to give something up. They say, ‘What, such a trivial, trifling thing as this? This ascetic is much too strict!’ They don’t give it up, and they nurse bitterness toward me; and for the mendicants who want to train, that becomes a strong, firm, stout bond, a tie that has not rotted, and a heavy yoke.
Suppose a quail was tied with a vine, and was waiting there to be injured, caged, or killed. Would it be right to say that, for that quail, that vine is weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial?”
“No, sir. For that quail, that vine is a strong, firm, stout bond, a tie that has not rotted, and a heavy yoke.”
“In the same way, when some futile people are told by me to give something up, they say, ‘What, such a trivial, trifling thing as this? This ascetic is much too strict!’ They don’t give it up, and they nurse bitterness toward me; and for the mendicants who want to train, that becomes a strong, firm, stout bond, a tie that has not rotted, and a heavy yoke.
But when some gentlemen are told by me to give something up, they say, ‘What, we just have to give up such a trivial, trifling thing as this, when the Blessed One tells us to give it up, the Holy One tells us to let it go?’ They give it up, and they don’t nurse bitterness toward me; and when the mendicants who want to train have given that up, they live relaxed, unruffled, surviving on charity, their hearts free as a wild deer. For them, that bond is weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial.
Suppose there was a royal bull elephant with tusks like draft-poles, able to draw a heavy load, pedigree and battle-hardened. And it was bound with a strong harness. But just by twisting its body a little, it would break apart its bonds and go wherever it wants. Would it be right to say that, for that bull elephant, that strong harness is a strong, firm, stout bond, a tie that has not rotted, and a heavy yoke?”
“No, sir. For that bull elephant, that strong harness is weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial.”
…(Skipped)
So, Udāyī, I even recommend giving up the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception. Do you see any fetter, large or small, that I don’t recommend giving up?”
“No, sir.”
Even when the Buddha was asked why he scolded Devadatta so heavily as seen in MN 58
“Here, prince, go to the ascetic Gotama and say to him:
‘Sir, may the Realized One utter speech that is disliked by others?’
When he’s asked this, if he answers: ‘He may, prince,’ say this to him, ‘So what then, sir, is the difference between you and an ordinary person? For even an ordinary person may utter speech that is disliked by others.’
But if he answers, ‘He may not, prince,’ say this to him: ‘So why then, sir, did you declare of Devadatta: “Devadatta is going to a place of loss, to hell, there to remain for an eon, irredeemable”? Devadatta was angry and upset with what you said.’
To which the Buddha reveal that whenever he scold someone, it is actually to save them from greater harm despite the fact that they might not enjoy being scolded.
Now at that time a little baby boy was sitting in Prince Abhaya’s lap. Then the Buddha said to Abhaya, “What do you think, prince? If—because of your negligence or his nursemaid’s negligence—your boy were to put a stick or stone in his mouth, what would you do to him?”
“I’d try to take it out, sir. If that didn’t work, I’d cradle his head with my left hand and take it out using a hooked finger of my right hand, even if it drew blood. Why is that? Because I have sympathy for the boy, sir.”
The Buddha said that he will only speak when and only when all of these factors are fulfilled:
- That speech must be true and correct, not untrue
- That speech must be beneficial, not pointless
- That speech must be spoken at the right time
- As for whether that speech is sweet or harsh, liked or disliked by the listeners, The Buddha can still speak both kinds depending on the personality type of the listener ( 11.1 of MN 103, AN 4.111…)
And the Buddha does this simply because:
"Why is that? Because the Realized One has sympathy for sentient beings.”
In fact, Venerable Ānanda personally have experience of the Buddha being compassionate to him by using this strictness in MN 122:
Now at that time Venerable Ānanda, together with many other mendicants, was making robes at the lodge of the Sakyan Ghaṭā. Then in the late afternoon, the Buddha came out of retreat and went to Ghaṭā’s lodge, where he sat down on the seat spread out and said to Venerable Ānanda, “Many resting places have been spread out at the lodge of Khemaka the Dark; are many mendicants living there?”
“Indeed there are, sir. It’s currently the time for making robes.”
“Ānanda, a mendicant doesn’t shine who enjoys company and groups, who loves them and likes to enjoy them. It is quite impossible that such a mendicant will get the pleasure of renunciation, the pleasure of seclusion, the pleasure of peace, the pleasure of awakening when they want, without trouble or difficulty. But you should expect that a mendicant who lives alone, withdrawn from the group, will get the pleasure of renunciation, the pleasure of seclusion, the pleasure of peace, the pleasure of awakening when they want, without trouble or difficulty. That is possible.
The Buddha knew that Ānanda is a stream-enterer who is not stubborn and is willing to listen to his instructions, which is why he finish this same sutta by saying:
And in this context, Ānanda, as compared to the peril of the tutor or the pupil, the peril of the spiritual practitioner has more painful, bitter results, and even leads to the underworld.
So, Ānanda, treat me as a friend, not as an enemy. That will be for your lasting welfare and happiness.
And how do disciples treat their Teacher as an enemy, not a friend? It’s when the Teacher teaches Dhamma to his disciples out of kindness and sympathy: ‘This is for your welfare. This is for your happiness.’ But their disciples don’t want to listen. They don’t actively listen or try to understand. They proceed having turned away from the Teacher’s instruction. That’s how the disciples treat their Teacher as an enemy, not a friend.
And how do disciples treat their Teacher as a friend, not an enemy? It’s when the Teacher teaches Dhamma to his disciples out of kindness and sympathy: ‘This is for your welfare. This is for your happiness.’ And their disciples want to listen. They actively listen and try to understand. They don’t proceed having turned away from the Teacher’s instruction. That’s how the disciples treat their Teacher as a friend, not an enemy.
So, Ānanda, treat me as a friend, not as an enemy. That will be for your lasting welfare and happiness. I shall not mollycoddle you like a potter with their damp, unfired pots. I shall speak, curbing you again and again, pressing you again and again. The core will stand the test.”
That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, Venerable Ānanda approved what the Buddha said
The Buddha was fully prepare to do whatever is needed to save as many people as he could, whether by scolding them or going on a long journey to save a singular person in commentary on Dhammapada 203:
One day, the Buddha saw in his vision that a poor man would attain sotāpatti fruition at the village of Ālavi. So he went to that village, which was thirty yojanas (leagues) away from Sāvatthi. It so happened that on that very day the man lost his oxen. So, he had to be looking for the oxen. Meanwhile, almsfood was being offered to the Buddha and his disciples in a house in the village of Ālavi. After the meal, people got ready to listen to the Buddha’s discourse; but the Buddha waited for the young man. Finally, having found his oxen, the man came running to the house where the Buddha was. The man was tired and hungry, so the Buddha directed the donors to offer food to him. Only when the man had been fed, the Buddha gave a discourse, expounding the Dhamma step by step and finally leading to the Four Noble Truths. The lay-disciple attained sotāpatti fruition at the end of the discourse.
Afterwards, the Buddha and his disciples returned to the Jetavana Monastery. On the way, the monks remarked that it was so surprising that the Buddha should have waited and directed those people to feed the young man before he gave the discourse. On hearing their remarks, the Buddha said, “Monks! What you said is true, but you do not understand that I have come here, all this distance of thirty yojanas, because I knew that he was in a fitting condition to take in the Dhamma. If he were feeling very hungry, the pangs of hunger might have prevented him from taking in the Dhamma fully. That man had been out looking for his oxen the whole morning, and was very tired and also very hungry. Monks! After all, there is no ailment which is so difficult to bear as hunger.”
In that quote above, the buddha was willing to teach the rest of the village after that poor man arrived, despite the fact that the buddha knew that the rest of the village probably won’t understand much. Yet he taught so the rest of them, alongside that poor man who is the primary focus, could all understand even a little bit for their own happiness.
SN 42.7
To me, the ascetics, brahmins, and wanderers of other religions are like the poor field, the bad ground of sand and salt. 2.10I also teach them the Dhamma that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And I reveal a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure.
2.11Why is that?
2.12Hopefully they might understand even a single sentence, which would be for their lasting welfare and happiness.
