"As Long As Hell Is Not Empty, I Vow Not to Become a Buddha": Why Kṣitigarbha Chose to Stay in the Darkest Place

The Four Great Bodhisattvas Series

• Mañjuśrī Bodhisattva
• Samantabhadra Bodhisattva
• Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva
• Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva

If you had the power to leave a painful place and go somewhere better, would you leave?

Most people would say: of course.

But one bodhisattva made the opposite choice.

He had the power to attain Buddhahood and enter the bliss of nirvana, yet he chose to stay in hell—the darkest, most painful realm of the six realms of rebirth.

He said: "As long as hell is not empty, I vow not to become a Buddha. Only when all beings are liberated will I attain Bodhi."

In plain language: as long as even one being is suffering in hell, I will not become a Buddha. Only when all beings are saved will I become a Buddha.

This bodhisattva is called Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva.

Behind What Looks Like Foolishness

Upon first hearing this vow, many people think: isn't that foolish?

The beings in hell are endless. New beings are constantly creating karma and falling. Following this vow, Kṣitigarbha could never become a Buddha.

Why set yourself an impossible goal?

This is the difference between ordinary people and bodhisattvas.

Ordinary thinking goes: I need to take care of myself first, then I'll have energy left to help others. Let me earn enough money first, then I'll do charity. Let me solve my own problems first, then I'll care about others.

This sounds reasonable. But the problem is—you will never feel like you're "good enough." Money is never enough; problems never go away. So "I'll help others after I'm better" becomes "I'll never help others."

Kṣitigarbha's thinking is exactly the opposite: precisely because hell is the most painful, that's where I need to go. Not waiting until I'm perfect to begin, but beginning now.

This way of thinking is called "unable to bear the suffering of beings." Seeing others suffer makes your own heart ache. That pain is harder to bear than your own suffering.

This is not an emotion only saints possess. When you see a stray dog going hungry, doesn't your heart soften? When you see tragedy in the news, don't you feel sad? That's the seed of this very emotion.

Kṣitigarbha simply grew that seed into an enormous tree.

Two Stories of Saving a Mother

Why did Kṣitigarbha make this vow? The sutras record two stories, both involving mothers.

Long, long ago, there was a woman called the Brahmin Woman. Her mother did not believe in cause and effect, created much bad karma, and after death fell into hell.

The Brahmin Woman was extremely filial. Upon learning her mother was suffering in hell, she sold all the family's possessions to make offerings to the Buddhist temples, praying for her mother's liberation. Her filial heart moved the Buddha, who told her: your mother has already left hell and been reborn in heaven.

But the Brahmin Woman saw something: in hell, countless other beings were still suffering. Her mother was liberated, but thousands of other people's mothers were still there.

So she made a vow: May I, in future lives, be able to save all beings in hell.

This Brahmin Woman became Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva.

Another similar story. Bright Eyes's mother loved killing animals, especially eating fish roe. After death, she fell into an evil path. To save her mother, Bright Eyes made the same vow: May I save all suffering beings; as long as hell is not empty, I will not become a Buddha.

This vow became the core vow of Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva.

These two stories tell us one thing: Kṣitigarbha's vow began with "filial piety."

When a mother suffers, a child's heart breaks, and they try everything to save her. This is basic human nature. And Kṣitigarbha extended this love for his mother to all beings—every life suffering in hell is someone's mother, someone's child.

This is what Buddhism calls "great compassion as one body"—treating others' suffering as your own.

What Is Hell?

In Buddhism, "hell" is the most painful of the six realms of rebirth.

Traditional descriptions depict various tortures: burning in fire, freezing in ice, being cut by knives, being bitten by insects... It sounds like a horror movie.

But what if we understand "hell" from a different angle?

Hell might not just be a place—it might be a state.

Someone who is alive but has completely despaired of life. Someone who is awake but is consumed by anxiety and fear. Someone who has a home but feels no warmth in it. Someone who has a job but feels like they're in prison every day.

Isn't that a kind of "hell"?

What Kṣitigarbha chose to enter is precisely this darkest place.

Not on some distant shore, but right here, right now, among us.

Every person who has been abandoned, forgotten, who can find no way out—Kṣitigarbha's vow is to accompany them.

The Staff and the Pearl in His Hands

Kṣitigarbha's image is easy to recognize: he usually wears a monk's robe, holding a staff in one hand and a bright pearl in the other.

The staff is what monks use when traveling. Legend says Kṣitigarbha uses it to knock open the gates of hell—wherever there is suffering, that's where he goes.

The bright pearl can emit light, illuminating darkness. In the darkest place, what's needed most is a bit of light. This pearl symbolizes hope: no matter how dark, there is light.

These two implements represent Kṣitigarbha's attitude: I will come find you, and I will bring light.

For those in a "living hell," sometimes what you need most is not someone to pull you out, but someone willing to stay in the darkness with you.

This is the compassion of Kṣitigarbha.

Another Meaning of Filial Piety

In folk religion, Kṣitigarbha is often connected with "liberating the souls of the dead" and "ancestor veneration." Every year during the seventh lunar month (the Ullambana Festival, Ghost Festival), many people recite the Kṣitigarbha Sutra and pray for deceased relatives.

The logic behind this is: Kṣitigarbha is willing to enter hell to save beings, so if my loved one happens to be suffering there, please help look after them.

This belief is, in a sense, an extension of filial piety.

When parents are alive, we can care for them and accompany them. But after they pass away, what can we still do?

Reciting sutras and dedicating merit is one way. It lets the living feel they can still do something for the deceased. This psychological need to "do something" is real and worthy of respect.

But on a deeper level, the "filial piety" Kṣitigarbha teaches us is not just toward our own parents—it's extending that love outward.

Your parents need care, and so do other people's parents. You hope your parents are treated well? Then start by treating other people's parents well. You hope someone will remember you and pray for you after you're gone? Then start by remembering others and praying for them.

This is the elevation from "small filial piety" to "great filial piety."

Light in the Darkness

Each of us, to varying degrees, has experienced some kind of "hell moment."

Perhaps losing a job, a relationship, a loved one. Perhaps being betrayed, misunderstood, isolated. Perhaps just one day suddenly feeling that life has no meaning.

In those moments, what do we need?

Not necessarily a solution. Not necessarily a big lecture. Sometimes, just—someone to be there.

Someone willing to stay in your darkness, not minding your messiness, not rushing you to pull yourself together—just quietly being with you.

Kṣitigarbha's vow is this kind of companionship.

"As long as hell is not empty, I vow not to become a Buddha"—in plain terms: As long as even one person is suffering, I will not leave.

This is not a mythological story. This is a spirit.

And this spirit, you can learn too.

Next time someone around you is going through their "hell moment," don't rush to give advice or lecture them.