The sun hung low in the sky that day, draping soft gold across the green plains near the ancient city of Sarnath. Long ago, in this very place, something happened that would shape the hearts of millions for centuries to come. History remembers it as the First Turning of the Wheel of Dharma—the day the Buddha shared the truth he had discovered under the Bodhi tree.
Siddhartha Gautama, known to us now as the Buddha, had once been a prince. He lived in a palace with every comfort, shielded from pain and illness. But when he left the palace and saw suffering for the first time—a sick man, an old man, and a dead man—his heart broke open. He left behind everything he knew to find the answer to a question that haunted him: Why do people suffer, and how can we end it?
After six long years of wandering, fasting, and meditating, he sat beneath a tree in Bodh Gaya and refused to move until he found the truth. There, he reached Enlightenment—seeing with clear eyes the nature of life, suffering, and the path to peace. And now, just weeks later, he had come to a quiet deer park in Sarnath to share what he had learned.
Five men waited for him there. They were once his companions, fellow seekers who had turned away from him when he abandoned extreme self-harm. But when he arrived, they sensed something different. His face was calm, his eyes soft but full of knowing. Without a word, they knew something had changed.
He looked at them with compassion and spoke the words now found in the Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta—the "Sutra of Setting the Wheel of Dharma in Motion." He began by sharing what he had discovered: that both extreme luxury and extreme self-denial lead nowhere. Instead, he taught the Middle Way—a path of balance, mindfulness, and compassion.
Then, he explained the Four Noble Truths. First, that life holds suffering—dukkha. Pain, sadness, change—they are all parts of human life. Second, he said that suffering has a cause—our cravings, our attachments to people and things that cannot last. Third, he offered hopeful news: suffering can be ended. And finally, he described the Eightfold Path—a guide to right understanding, right speech, right action, right effort, and more.
As the Buddha spoke, something remarkable happened. One of the five men, a monk named Kondañña, truly understood. His mind opened, like the petals of a lotus emerging from muddy water. He saw the truth for himself—not as belief, but as knowing. He was the first to awaken to the Dharma, and the Buddha named him "Añña Kondañña," meaning “Kondañña who knows.”
From that small moment in the deer park, a great wave began. The Dharma—the Buddha’s teaching—spread from that circle of monks to distant lands and many hearts. But it was not with power or weapons. The Buddha taught with gentleness, guiding people to see clearly, live mindfully, and treat all beings with compassion.
The First Sermon at Sarnath did more than explain a new way of thinking—it opened a door. It invited us to step away from confusion and toward wisdom, away from clinging and toward peace. Today, we still listen to those ancient words, not because they are old, but because they still speak to what is true.
In that quiet park, long ago, a wheel began to turn—and it has never stopped.
The sun hung low in the sky that day, draping soft gold across the green plains near the ancient city of Sarnath. Long ago, in this very place, something happened that would shape the hearts of millions for centuries to come. History remembers it as the First Turning of the Wheel of Dharma—the day the Buddha shared the truth he had discovered under the Bodhi tree.
Siddhartha Gautama, known to us now as the Buddha, had once been a prince. He lived in a palace with every comfort, shielded from pain and illness. But when he left the palace and saw suffering for the first time—a sick man, an old man, and a dead man—his heart broke open. He left behind everything he knew to find the answer to a question that haunted him: Why do people suffer, and how can we end it?
After six long years of wandering, fasting, and meditating, he sat beneath a tree in Bodh Gaya and refused to move until he found the truth. There, he reached Enlightenment—seeing with clear eyes the nature of life, suffering, and the path to peace. And now, just weeks later, he had come to a quiet deer park in Sarnath to share what he had learned.
Five men waited for him there. They were once his companions, fellow seekers who had turned away from him when he abandoned extreme self-harm. But when he arrived, they sensed something different. His face was calm, his eyes soft but full of knowing. Without a word, they knew something had changed.
He looked at them with compassion and spoke the words now found in the Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta—the "Sutra of Setting the Wheel of Dharma in Motion." He began by sharing what he had discovered: that both extreme luxury and extreme self-denial lead nowhere. Instead, he taught the Middle Way—a path of balance, mindfulness, and compassion.
Then, he explained the Four Noble Truths. First, that life holds suffering—dukkha. Pain, sadness, change—they are all parts of human life. Second, he said that suffering has a cause—our cravings, our attachments to people and things that cannot last. Third, he offered hopeful news: suffering can be ended. And finally, he described the Eightfold Path—a guide to right understanding, right speech, right action, right effort, and more.
As the Buddha spoke, something remarkable happened. One of the five men, a monk named Kondañña, truly understood. His mind opened, like the petals of a lotus emerging from muddy water. He saw the truth for himself—not as belief, but as knowing. He was the first to awaken to the Dharma, and the Buddha named him "Añña Kondañña," meaning “Kondañña who knows.”
From that small moment in the deer park, a great wave began. The Dharma—the Buddha’s teaching—spread from that circle of monks to distant lands and many hearts. But it was not with power or weapons. The Buddha taught with gentleness, guiding people to see clearly, live mindfully, and treat all beings with compassion.
The First Sermon at Sarnath did more than explain a new way of thinking—it opened a door. It invited us to step away from confusion and toward wisdom, away from clinging and toward peace. Today, we still listen to those ancient words, not because they are old, but because they still speak to what is true.
In that quiet park, long ago, a wheel began to turn—and it has never stopped.
