And then Brahmā Sanaṅkumāra, knowing what the Great Steward was thinking, as easily as a strong person would extend or contract their arm, vanished from the Brahmā realm and reappeared in the Great Steward’s presence. At that, the Great Steward became frightened, scared, his hair standing on end, as he had never seen such a sight before. So he addressed Brahmā Sanaṅkumāra in verse:

“Who might you be, sir,
so beautiful, glorious, majestic?
Not knowing, I ask—
how am I to know who you are?”

“In the Brahmā realm they know me
as ‘The Eternal Youth’.
All the gods know me thus,
and so you should know me, Steward.”

“A Brahmā deserves a seat and water,
foot-salve, and sweet cakes.
Sir, I ask you to please accept
these gifts of hospitality.”

“I accept the gifts of hospitality
of which you speak.
I grant you the opportunity
to ask whatever you desire—
about welfare and benefit in this life,
or happiness in lives to come.”

Then the Great Steward thought, “Brahmā Sanaṅkumāra has granted me an opportunity. Should I ask him about what is beneficial for this life or lives to come?”

Then he thought, “I’m a skilled in what is beneficial for this life, and others even ask me about it. Why don’t I ask Brahmā about the benefit that specifically applies to lives to come?” So he addressed Brahmā Sanaṅkumāra in verse:

“I’m in doubt, so I ask Brahmā—who is free of doubt—
about things one may learn from another.
Standing on what, training in what
may a mortal reach the deathless Brahmā realm?”

“He among men, O brahmin, has given up possessions,
become one, compassionate,
free from the stench of decay, and refraining from sex.
Standing on that, training in that
a mortal may reach the deathless Brahmā realm.”

“Sir, I understand what ‘giving up possessions’ means. It’s when someone gives up a large or small fortune, and a large or small family circle. They shave off hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. That’s how I understand ‘giving up possessions’.

Sir, I understand what ‘oneness’ means. It’s when someone frequents a secluded lodging—a wilderness, the root of a tree, a hill, a ravine, a mountain cave, a charnel ground, a forest, the open air, a heap of straw. That’s how I understand ‘oneness’.

Sir, I understand what ‘compassionate’ means. It’s when someone meditates spreading a heart full of compassion to one direction, and to the second, and to the third, and to the fourth. In the same way above, below, across, everywhere, all around, they spread a heart full of compassion to the whole world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will. That’s how I understand ‘compassionate’.

But I don’t understand what you say about the stench of decay.

What among men, O Brahmā, is the stench of decay?
I don’t understand, so tell me, wise one:
wrapped in what do people stink,
headed for hell, shut out of the Brahmā realm?”

“Anger, lies, fraud, and deceit,
miserliness, vanity, jealousy,
desire, stinginess, harassing others,
greed, hate, pride, and delusion—
those bound to such things have the stench of decay;
they’re headed for hell, shut out of the Brahmā realm.”

“As I understand what you say about the stench of decay, it’s not easy to quell while living at home. I shall go forth from the lay life to homelessness!”

“Please do so, Steward, at your convenience.”