The Dharma & Sangha

What Buddha Discovered & Who Preserved It

What Buddha Discovered & Who Preserved It

The previous module examined the Buddha’s life—someone who reportedly investigated fundamental questions about existence and became awakened. We learned about his privileged upbringing, his encounter with suffering, his years of practice, and his awakening under the bodhi tree. The story presents him as a human example of what sustained meditative investigation can accomplish.

This naturally raises some questions: What did he actually discover? How did his teachings lead others to the same discovery? And how did these teachings survive 2,500 years to reach us today?

These questions point to the second and third of the Three Jewels: Dharma and Saṅgha. If the Buddha is the physician who diagnosed our condition, the Dharma is the medicine that cures it, and the Saṅgha is the community of nurses who administer the treatment and support recovery. These aren’t mere organizational categories—they’re frameworks for understanding what meditation investigates, how it is supposed to work, and how it’s been preserved across centuries and cultures.

This module completes the Three Jewels framework that orients the entire curriculum. We’ll examine what the Buddha reportedly discovered through four key analogies that characterize how Buddhist teaching works. Then we’ll explore who preserved these teachings and why community matters as much as the teachings themselves.

One video provides an overview of the Dharma, raising the question of whether Buddhism is psychology, philosophy, or religion—or fits neatly into any Western categories. The rest of the module explores these themes through prose that unpacks the four analogies and introduces the different types of Buddhist community.

What to watch for: Four key analogies that characterize how Buddhist teaching works (Arrow, Goldsmith, Raft, Dream). The question of whether Buddhism is psychology, philosophy, or religion. An introduction to frameworks that will structure what we study ahead.

Video 1: The Dharma

Duration: 14 minutes

The Four Analogies

The video introduced four analogies the Buddha reportedly used to characterize his teaching. These aren’t just interesting metaphors—they’re structural principles that inform how Buddhists understand and transmit the Dharma. Together, they distinguish Buddhist teaching from many religious traditions, framing it as something investigative, provisional, and transformative rather than dogmatic.

1. The Arrow Analogy: Pragmatic Urgency

Imagine you’ve been shot with a poisoned arrow. Someone approaches offering to help, and you respond: “Wait—before you remove the arrow, tell me who shot it. What clan were they from? What kind of wood is the arrow made of? What feathers are on the fletching? What type of bow did they use?” While you’re asking these questions, the poison spreads and you die.

The Arrow analogy suggests the Buddha is offering pragmatic advice: don’t take the teachings to be speculating about metaphysical questions that don’t directly address your immediate suffering. Use them to remove the arrow now before you bleed to death. Later, if you wish, you can investigate questions about cosmology, ultimate reality, or the metaphysics of identity. But first, address the urgent problem—the existential dis-ease that pervades ordinary experience.

This doesn’t mean Buddhism dismisses philosophical questions. Much of what we’ll study in the Small Vehicle and Great Vehicle floors involves sophisticated philosophy. But that philosophy is always connected to the practical question of suffering and its cessation. It’s not abstract speculation disconnected from lived experience.

2. The Goldsmith Analogy: Empirical Testing

A goldsmith doesn’t accept that metal is gold just because someone says it is. They test it—by heating it, rubbing it on a touchstone, weighing it. Only after verification do they accept the metal as genuine gold and work with it accordingly.

The Goldsmith analogy insists on empirical testing: don’t think the teachings are something to be accepted on faith, but rather something to be verified in your own experience or discarded. This is the dad pa we discussed in the previous module—investigative interest rather than blind belief. The Buddha reportedly told his students not to accept his words on authority but to test them, the way a goldsmith tests gold.

This empirical stance distinguishes Buddhism from religious traditions that emphasize faith in revealed truth. It aligns more closely with scientific methodology: hypotheses to be tested, observations to be made, results to be verified independently. Whether Buddhism actually succeeds in maintaining this empirical approach is debatable—certainly many Buddhist communities have developed devotional and faith-based elements. But the ideal, articulated through the Goldsmith analogy, is that teachings should be verifiable through investigation rather than accepted on authority.

3. The Raft Analogy: Provisional Tools

A person needs to cross a dangerous river. They gather materials—logs, vines, whatever’s available—and construct a raft. The raft carries them safely across. But once they reach the far shore, do they carry the raft on their back as they continue their journey? Obviously not. The raft served its purpose; now it can be left behind.

The Raft analogy acknowledges that even the teachings found to be true in practice are provisional tools—useful for crossing the river of suffering, not for carrying on your back forever. This is radical. Most religious traditions present their teachings as ultimate truth to be preserved permanently. Buddhism, at least ideally, frames its teachings as means rather than ends. They work to the degree they facilitate awakening; once awakening occurs, the teachings themselves can be relinquished.

This doesn’t mean teachings are arbitrary or unimportant. The raft needs to be well-constructed to cross the river successfully. But it does mean teachings shouldn’t become objects of attachment themselves. The point isn’t to perfect our understanding of Buddhist philosophy; the point is to use Buddhist philosophy to investigate experience directly until we see clearly enough that the philosophical framework is no longer needed.

4. The Dream Analogy: Transformative Realization

This analogy is more complex and will appear repeatedly throughout the curriculum, interpreted differently by different philosophical schools. But the basic structure is this: Imagine you’re having a nightmare. A dream tiger is chasing you. You feel genuine fear—your dream heart races, you run desperately. The suffering feels absolutely real while you’re dreaming. But then you wake up. Instantly, you recognize it was a dream all along. The tiger wasn’t real. The danger wasn’t real. The fear, though it felt genuine, was based on misperception.

The Dream analogy reframes everything: if ordinary existence is like a nightmare we don’t know we’re having, then realizing “awakening” isn’t a metaphor for an intellectual discovery, but a description of a complete transformation of our mindset and of how we perceive life and death. It’s not that we figure something out conceptually; we wake up from a misperception that was structuring all of our experience.

Different Buddhist philosophical schools interpret this analogy in different ways. Some say appearances are literally dreamlike—mental projections with no external reality. Others say the analogy points just to the dreamlike quality of our concepts and interpretations, not to the appearances themselves. Still others use it to describe the post-awakening perspective, where even though dream-like things might appear, they’re recognized as lacking the fixed identity we ordinarily project onto them. Importantly, however one interprets the analogy, all Buddhists admit to one degree or other that the Buddhism itself is an illusion within the dream.

Taken together, what these four analogies together convey: Buddhism presents itself as pragmatic (Arrow), empirical (Goldsmith), provisional (Raft), and transformative illusion (Dream). This is not how most religions present themselves—as provisional methods for truth-seekers, not revealed truths requiring faith. It’s an unusual epistemological stance, one that invites investigation of our own hypotheses through direct observation, rather than accepting dogmatic beliefs or speculative claims.

The Saṅgha: Who Preserved These Teachings

A teaching doesn’t transmit itself across 2,500 years. The Buddha’s insights required people willing to memorize them, practice them, debate their meaning, adapt them to new contexts, and pass them on. The Saṅgha is that community.

The Sanskrit word saṅgha primarily refers to the community of awakened practitioners—those who have attained at least the first stage of awakening—because they can help guide us toward awakening. But the tradition recognizes that Buddhist community isn’t limited to the awakened and support for practice can be found in variety of forms. According to the historian Reginald Ray, different types of practitioners played different roles in preserving Buddhism:

Forest renunciants lived in isolation, dedicating themselves to intensive practice away from social life. They maintained the contemplative core through direct experience. When texts were lost or teachings corrupted, forest yogins could point back to what actually happens in deep meditation. The stereotypical hermit meditating in a cave for years represents this strand.

Monastic communities created institutions with formal structures—ordination procedures, rules, hierarchies, curricula. Monastics preserved texts, maintained lineages, trained new practitioners, and created stable environments for practice. The major Buddhist universities of ancient India, the transmission through scriptural copying, the development of philosophical systems—this occurred primarily in monastic settings.

Lay followers supported monastics materially while maintaining family and work. They provided food, clothing, shelter, financial support that allowed renunciants and monastics to dedicate themselves fully to practice. But lay practitioners weren’t just donors—they engaged teachings at their own level, practiced ethics and meditation while navigating ordinary social life, and kept Buddhism embedded in broader culture.

Householder yogis took an interesting middle position: they practiced intensively—sometimes as intensively as monastics or forest renunciants—while maintaining family relationships and worldly work. They demonstrated that profound practice doesn’t necessarily require abandoning all social engagement. Some of the most revered Tibetan teachers were householder yogis who achieved high realization while raising children and working ordinary jobs.

Each community type addresses different human temperaments and life circumstances. Buddhism survived because it accommodated this diversity rather than insisting on one model.

Traditional Buddhism includes a ceremony called “taking refuge” in the Three Jewels—Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha. This formal commitment marks Buddhist identity. The refuge analogy compares the Three Jewels to recovering from addiction: the Buddha is like a physician who correctly diagnoses the disease, the Dharma is like the medicine that cures it, and the Saṅgha is like the nurses who administer treatment, fellow patients who provide support, and healthy persons who model successful recovery.

You don’t need to take formal refuge to study this material or practice meditation. But understanding what refuge means clarifies why Buddhists emphasize community. Sustained investigation is difficult, and having support from others engaged in similar investigation makes success more likely.

The Saṅgha completes the Three Jewels framework: who investigated (Buddha), what was discovered (Dharma), and who preserved these teachings (Saṅgha). We have introduced this framework because it helps us reconsider our motivations, orientations, and what we expect from meditation.

A few Insights:

Why the Three Jewels Matter

When I first encountered the Three Jewels, they seemed like organizational scaffolding—a tidy way to structure introductory material. Teacher, teaching, community. Simple enough.

What changed my understanding was realizing that these three aren’t just categories but frameworks for answering the questions that arose naturally when I tried to investigate seriously: What is this life all about? How can I live a good life and die a good death? What is the role of family and community in achieving this quintessentially human goal?

The Buddha answers the first question by presenting himself not as a figure to worship but as an example of someone who investigated the meaning of life and discovered something immediately accessible, simple, profound, and transformative. The tradition’s insistence that he was human—not a god, not a prophet—mattered enormously to me. It meant that the Buddha exemplified the kind of wise and compassionate person I naturally felt drawn to become.

The Dharma answers the second question about the pragmatic nature of the Buddha’s wisdom concerning life and death. The Arrow analogy suggests Buddha is offering pragmatic advice: don’t take the teachings to be speculating about metaphysical questions. Use them to remove the arrow now before you bleed to death. The Goldsmith analogy insists on empirical testing: don’t think the teachings are something to be accepted on faith, but rather something to be verified in your own experience or discarded. The Raft analogy acknowledges that even the teachings found to be true in practice are provisional tools—useful for crossing the river of suffering, not for carrying on your back forever. And the Dream analogy reframes everything: if ordinary existence is like a nightmare we don’t know we’re having, then realizing “awakening” isn’t a metaphor for an intellectual discovery, but a description of a complete transformation of our mindset and of how we perceive our lives and deaths. This is not how most religions present themselves, namely as provisional methods for truth-seekers. It’s an unusual epistemological stance—one that invites investigation through direct observation rather than adherence to dogmas and beliefs.

The Saṅgha answers the third question about how community can support my own investigation of mind and meaning in life and death. I am personally not drawn to some “religious” attitudes I have encountered among certain meditators—whether they identify as Buddhist or not. But the community of meditators has generally served me as an excellent mirror that always forces me to question my superficial motivations and my mistaken assumptions about how to live and die with wisdom and compassion for others.

Questions for Reflection

These questions invite ongoing investigation of the Three Jewels framework.

1. Three Orienting Questions How do these three questions—who investigated? what discovered? how to go about the investigation?—help orient your own approach to meditation or Buddhist study? Do they clarify what you’re doing, or do they raise more questions?

2. The Four Analogies Which of the four analogies (Arrow, Goldsmith, Raft, Dream) resonates most with how you understand Buddhist teaching? Which feels most foreign? The Arrow’s pragmatism? The Goldsmith’s empiricism? The Raft’s provisionality? The Dream’s transformation?

3. Testing vs. Believing The Goldsmith analogy invites testing rather than believing. What would it mean to actually “test” a teaching in your own experience? How is that different from just thinking about it intellectually? Have you tested anything through meditation yet, or is it too early?

4. Community’s Role How does understanding the Saṅgha—the community that preserved these teachings—change how you relate to Buddhist ideas? Does knowing this history matter? Do you feel drawn to any particular type of community (forest renunciant, monastic, lay, householder yogin)?

5. Complete Framework With Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha now introduced, how does this complete framework inform what you’re seeking through meditation or study? Does it help clarify the investigation? Or does it feel like religious structure you’re not interested in adopting?

This module is part of Tarpa's Palace of Learning curriculum, a secular educational program exploring Buddhist philosophy, psychology, and contemplative practice. All content © 2025