a sutta with several jokes...MN 35 Cula Saccaka sutta.
Once upon a time, there lived a brash young fella called Saccaka.
People thought he was a saint. He had fine credentials, his Mom and Dad were philosophers,
a great orator he was, folks were attracted to him perhaps like to Martin Luther king "I had a dream" or
whatever.
This fella would go around town and brag how Buddha was no match for him,
small excerpts
So Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son went to those Licchavis and, on arrival, said to them, "Come out, good Licchavis! Come out, good Licchavis!
Today will be my discussion with Gotama the contemplative! If he takes the position with me that was taken with me by his famous disciples, the monk named Assaji,
then just as a strong man, seizing a long-haired ram by the hair,
would drag him to and fro, and drag him all around,
in the same way I, statement by statement,
will drag Gotama the contemplative to and fro, and drag him all around, more jokes deleted for sake of brevity... ends with ..will shake Gotama the contemplative down and shake him out and thump him. Just as a sixty-year old elephant, plunging into a deep pond,
would amuse itself playing the game of hemp-washing, in the same way I will amuse myself playing the game of hemp-washing Gotama the contemplative, as it were
Come on out, good Licchavis! Come on out, good Licchavis! Today will be my discussion with Gotama the contemplative!"
Braggadocio and the Licchavis find the Buddha. Saccaka is cocksure he will win, amuses himself.
Debate begins...Buddha claims
"Form is not self etc"
Saccaka refutes...
Buddha proves how form is not self, by saying something like a dictator or King pasenadi, can order the decapitation of his subjects.
Saccaka loses when he realizes that the form is not stable.
Saccaka is crestfallen, Buddha persists that he should admit his defeat...
Saccaka falls silent, not wanting to admit loss.
A second time, the Blessed One said to Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son:
"What do you think? When you say, 'Form is my self,' do you wield power over that form: 'May my form be thus, may my form not be thus'?
When this was said, Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son was silent a second time.
Then the Blessed One said to him,
"Answer now, This is not the time to be silent. When anyone doesn't answer when asked a legitimate question by the Tathāgata up to three times, his head splits into seven pieces right here."
joke or serious, depends on how one interprets.
Now on that occasion the spirit (yakkha) Vajirapāṇin [Thunderbolt-in-Hand], carrying an iron thunderbolt, was poised in the air above Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son, (thinking,) "If Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son doesn't answer when asked a legitimate question by the Blessed One up to three times, I will split his head into seven pieces right here
The Blessed One saw the spirit Vajirapāṇin, as did Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son. So Saccaka — afraid, terrified, his hair standing on end — seeking shelter in the Blessed One, .... — said to the Blessed One, "Let Master Gotama ask me. I will answer"
What do you think? When you say, 'Form is my self,' do you wield power over that form:
'May my form be thus, may my form not be thus?
"No, Master Gotama."...
The reality is the psychological trauma to Saccaka...canon uses a thunderbolt spirit, to illustrate this,
jokingly ...
Buddha continues...
when you are interrogated, rebuked, & pressed by me with regard to your own statement, you are empty, void, mistaken. But it was you who made this statement before the assembly in Vesālī: 'I see no contemplative or brahman, the head of an order, the head of a group, or even one who claims to be an arahant, rightly self-awakened, who — engaged in debate with me — would not shiver, quiver, shake, & break out in sweat under the armpits. Even if I were to engage a senseless stump in debate, it — engaged with me in debate — would shiver, quiver, & shake, to say nothing of a human being.' But now some drops of sweat coming out of your forehead, drenching your upper robe, are landing on the ground, whereas now I have no sweat on my body." And the Blessed One uncovered his golden-colored body to the assembly
Buddha half disrobing??
When this was said, Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son fell silent, abashed, sitting with his shoulders drooping, his head down, brooding, at a loss for words.
Then
Dummukha [BadMouth] the Licchavi-son — sensing that Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son was silent, abashed, sitting with his shoulders drooping,
his head down,
brooding, at a loss for words — said to the Blessed One,
"Lord, a simile has occurred to me."
"Speak, Dummukha," the Blessed One said.
Suppose, lord, that not far from a village or town was a pond. There in it was a crab.
Then a number of boys & girls, leaving the village or town, would go to the pond and, on arrival, would go down to bathe in it.
Taking the crab out of the water, they would place it on the ground.
And whenever the crab extended a leg, the boys or girls would cut it off, break it, and smash it with sticks or stones right there, so that the crab — with all its legs cut off,
broken, & smashed — would be unable to get back in the water as before.
In the same way, whatever Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son's writhings, capers, & contortions, the Blessed One has cut them off, broken them, and smashed them all, so that Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son is now unable to approach the Blessed One again for the purpose of debate
When this was said, Saccaka the Nigaṇṭha-son said to Dummukha the Licchavi-son,
Just you wait, Dummukha. You be damned Dummukha. You're a big-mouth, Dummukha. We're not taking counsel with you. We're here taking counsel with Master Gotama
Last joke appears to be the best, when Mr Bad Mouth compares Saccaka to a crab who is dragged out of water by girls and boys, and gets his limbs cut off, each time he moves a limb to get back in the water.
Saccaka just could not extricate himself from the jam he got into.
See what happened to the fella, who claimed he could drag Buddha to and fro.
This sutta perhaps should be renamed "Sutta on the cruelest joke", or "Sutta on the funniest"
A warning to those who think they can one-up Buddha.
A Saturday morning short story, taking a few liberties with text.
With a great deal of love...not a joke.