What is the Triple Gem?
Ajaan Lee Dhammadharo
(Phra Suddhidhammaransi Gambhiramedhacariya)
Translated from the Thai by
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
Copyright
� 1994 Metta Forest Monastery
Introduction
Parts of this analysis of the Triple
Gem were originally used to teach new monks here at the temple and have been
printed twice in book form. Now that a group of people who feel that the book
would be beneficial to Buddhists at large have pooled their resources and asked
permission to print it a third time, I have decided to expand it into a
handbook for all Buddhist adherents -- i.e., for all who have declared the
Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha to be their refuge. Once we have made such a
declaration, we are duty-bound to learn exactly what the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Sangha are. Otherwise, we will follow our religion blindly, without realizing
its aims or the benefits -- called 'pu��a,'
or merit -- that come from its practice, inasmuch as Buddhism is a religion of
self-help.
Furthermore, we as Thai people are
known throughout the world as Buddhists, but my feeling is that there are very
few of us who know the standards of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha. Although
many of us are 'Buddhist,' we are Buddhist mostly through custom, not through
informed awareness.
Altogether, there are two ways of
adhering to the religion: rationally and irrationally. To adhere to the
religion irrationally means to adhere to it blindly, following one's teachers
or companions, holding to whatever they say is good without showing any
interest as to whether it really is good or not. This is like a person of no
discernment who uses whatever paper money comes his way: If it turns out to be
counterfeit, he'll be punished and fined in a variety of ways. This is what it
means to adhere to the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha irrationally.
To adhere to the religion rationally
means not to follow one's own prejudices or those of one's teachers or
companions, but to follow the principles of the texts; holding to the
Dhamma-Vinaya as one's standard, like a legal document affixed with the
government seal, carrying the force of law throughout the land, making
exceptions for no one. Whoever then transgresses the law can't be regarded as a
good citizen. So it is with the religion: If we want
to know if a practice is good or bad, right or wrong, worthy of respect or not,
we should check it against the standards established by the Buddha, which are
eight in number: Any behavior that --
1. leads
to passion,
2. leads to the compounding of suffering,
3. leads to the accumulation of defilement,
4. leads to over-weaning ambition,
5. leads to discontent with what one has -- i.e., having this, one
wants that (greed that goes beyond moderation),
6. leads to socializing (of the wrong sort),
7. leads to laziness,
8. leads one to be burdensome to others:
None of these eight forms of
behavior qualify as the doctrine or discipline of Buddhism. Once we know that these
forms of behavior are not what the Buddha intended, we should abandon them
completely.
Thus, all of us who respect the
Buddha's teachings should -- instead of working at cross-purposes -- join our
hearts to cleanse and correct the practice of the religion. Monks, novices, lay
men, and lay women should make a point of helping one another in the area of
reform. Whatever is already good, we should maintain with respect. Whatever
isn't, we should exert pressure to improve. We'll then meet with what's truly
good, like rice: If you cook good, clean, husked white rice, you'll eat with
pleasure. If you cook unhusked rice, or a potful of husks, they'll stick in
your own throat. If we let any bad factions go uncorrected, they will burden
the hearts of their supporters, who will become like people who cook rice husks
to eat. Are we going to let one another be so stupid as to eat rice husks?
By and large, though, most lay
people don't see this as their duty. As for the monks and novices, they throw
the responsibility on the lay people, and so we do nothing but keep throwing it
back and forth like this. When things have a bearing on all of us, we should by
all means unite our hearts and accept joint responsibility. Only things that
have no bearing on us should we leave to others. Unless we act in this way,
what is good -- the religion -- will fall from our grasp. And when the religion
falls from our grasp, lay men (upasaka) will
become obstacles (upasak), i.e.,
they'll keep creating obstacles in the way of finding merit. Lay women (upasika) will become the color of crows (sika), i.e.,
dark and evil in their behavior. Novices will become sham novices, careless,
spattered, and filthy; and monks (phra) will
become goats (phae), missing out on
the flavor of the Dhamma, like the nanny goat who has to go hungry because her
milk has been taken and drunk by people more intelligent than she. In India,
for instance, there are hardly any monks left to make merit with.
Monks are the important faction,
because they are the front-line troops or standard-bearers in the fight with
the enemy -- evil. Ordinarily, soldiers have to adhere to the code of their
army and to be sincere in performing their duties. As for the duties enjoined
by the religion, they are two:
1 Gantha-dhura: studying the scriptures.
Once we know the scriptures, though, we can't stop there. We have to put them
into practice, because the level of study is simply knowledge on the level of
plans and blueprints. If we don't follow the blueprints, we won't receive the
benefits to be gained from our knowledge. And when we don't gain the benefits,
we're apt to discard the texts, like a doctor who knows the formula for a
medicine but doesn't use it to cure any patients. The medicine won't show any
benefits, and this will cause him to go looking for a living in other ways,
discarding any interest to pursue that formula further. Thus, putting the
scriptures into practice is one way of preserving them, for once we have put
them into practice and seen the results arising within us -- i.e., our own bad
qualities begin to wane -- we will appreciate the value of the scriptures and
try to keep them intact. This is like a doctor who is able to use a medicine to
cure a fever and so will preserve the formula because of its use in making a living.
Thus, the Lord Buddha set out a further duty, in the area of practice, for
those who are ordained:
2 Vipassana-dhura: the practice of tranquillity
and insight meditation. These two practices are our primary duties as monks and
novices. If we don't devote ourselves to these two lines of practice, we'll
become a fifth column within the religion, enemies of the good standards of the
Dhamma and Vinaya. Monks will become political monks, war-making monks,
loudspeaker monks -- loudspeaker monks are those who can teach others but can't
teach themselves. They can speak Dhamma, but their hearts have no Dhamma, and
so they become the enemies of those who practice the Dhamma and Vinaya rightly
and well.
Thus I ask all Buddhists not to turn a deaf ear or a blind eye
to these problems. If we hold that it's none of our business, the consequences
could well flare up and spread to burn us. For this reason, I ask that we all
help one another to look after the religion.
Actually, all human beings born need
a set of customs and traditions -- called religion -- to which they give
special respect. Otherwise, we will have no principles of good and evil or of
moral virtue. Whatever religion this may be is up to the individual adherents.
I ask only that they respect their religion sincerely and rightly, for the sake
of true purity.
If we were to use only worldly
knowledge to keep order, it would work only in public places. In private or
secret places, order wouldn't last. But as for religion, once people have
studied so that they really know good and evil, they wouldn't dare do evil,
either in public or in private. Religion is thus one of the important mainstays
of the world. If we human beings had no moral virtue imbedded in our hearts,
even the greatest power on earth would be able to keep us in line only
temporarily, and even then it wouldn't be able to
influence our minds the way the moral virtue that comes from religion can. For
this reason, the practice of moral virtue is one way of helping the religion
and the world.
Now, I'm not claiming to be a
heavenly being or anyone special. I'm simply a person who wishes the religion
well. So if anything in this book is defective -- in
terms of the expression or the Pali -- I hope that knowledgeable people will
forgive me, for it's not the case that I'm expert in a wide range of matters.
Phra Ajaan Lee Dhammadharo
Wat Paa Khlawng Kung
(The Shrimp Canal Forest Monastery)
Chanthaburi, Thailand
1953
I.
Buddham saranam gacchami:
I go to the Buddha for refuge.
Ordinarily, for the world to
experience happiness and harmony, there has to be a teaching or tradition
generally respected as good. This being the case, Bodhisattvas arise -- people
who develop goodness on the grand scale for the sake of attaining right
self-awakening. Once they have reached this goal, they are termed 'Buddhas,'
Awakened Ones. For Bodhisattvas to succeed in this direction, they have to
devote themselves to perfecting ten virtues --
1 Dana-parami: charity.
2 Sila-parami: morality.
3 Nekkhamma-parami: renunciation
of sensuality (and of the household life).
4 Pa��a-parami: the search for discernment.
5 Viriya-parami: persistence.
6 Khanti-parami: endurance,
patience.
7 Sacca-parami: truthfulness.
8 Adhitthana-parami: determination.
9 Metta-parami: benevolence.
10 Upekkha-parami: equanimity
(in proper cases, i.e., in areas that are beyond one's control).
These ten perfections are the factors
that enable a Bodhisattva to succeed in becoming an Arahant, a Pure One. Once
he attains this state, three qualities -- called 'actualized virtues' -- arise
in his heart:
Visuddhi-guna: purity.
Pa��a-guna: sharp discernment.
Karunadhiguna: compassion for
living beings throughout the world.
These qualities enable the Buddha to
teach the Dhamma in a beneficial way. His conduct in this area is of three
sorts: Having achieved his own purposes (attattha-cariya), he
acts for the benefit of living beings throughout the world (lokattha-cariya) and teaches the Dhamma to his own
circle of relatives (�atattha-cariya).
There are three aspects to the
Buddha:
1) The
physical aspect -- the body (elements, aggregates (khandha), and
sense media), which is the external aspect of the Buddha, called 'Buddha-nimitta,' or the symbol of the Buddha. (This is
like the bark of a tree.)
2) The
good practices he followed -- such as virtue, concentration, and discernment,
which are aspects of his activity. These are called 'dhamma-nimitta' of the Buddha, symbols of his inner quality.
(These are the sapwood.)
3) Vimutti -- release from ignorance, craving,
attachment, and kamma; attaining nibbana, the supreme
quality, a quality that does not die (amata-dhamma). (This
is the heartwood, or essence of the Buddha.)
A person of little intelligence will
use bark to build himself a home; a person of medium intelligence will use
sapwood; while a person of sharp intelligence will build his home of heartwood.
So it is with those of us who take refuge in the
Buddha. But in any case we're better off than people
without a home. Like rats or lizards who have to live in the hollows of trees
and are in for trouble if people set the trees on fire: If we place our trust
in our life, our bodies, or our worldly possessions, we'll have no refuge when
the fires of death reach us. Or as when a boat sinks in the middle of the
ocean: A person without a life-vest is in serious danger. For this reason, we
should educate ourselves so as to find a refuge that will benefit us both in
this life and in lives to come.
Another comparison: The sages of the
past used the term 'Buddha-ratana,' comparing
the Buddha to a jewel. Now, there are three sorts of jewels: artificial gems;
gemstones, such as rubies or sapphires; and diamonds, which are held to be the
highest. The aspects of the Buddha might be compared to these three sorts of
jewels. To place confidence in the external aspect -- the body of the Buddha or
images made to represent him -- is like dressing up with artificial gems. To
show respect for the practices followed by the Buddha by giving rise to them
within ourselves is like dressing up with rubies and sapphires. To reach the
quality of deathlessness is like dressing in diamonds from head to toe.
But no matter what sort of jewels we
use to dress up in, we're better off than savages who go around hanging bones
from their necks, who look unkempt and -- what's more -- are bound to be
haunted by the bones they wear. The bones, here, stand for the body, i.e., our
attachment to the body as really being ours. Actually, our body comes for the
most part from the bodies of other animals -- the food we've eaten -- so how
can we seriously take it to be our own? Whoever insists on regarding the body
as his or her own is like a savage or a swindler -- and, as a swindler, is
bound to receive punishment in proportion to the crime. Thus, we should regard
the body as money borrowed for the span of a lifetime, to be used as capital. And
we should search for profits so as to release ourselves from our debts, by
searching for another, better form of goodness: the qualities of
the Buddha that he left as teachings for all of his followers. These qualities,
briefly put, are --
1 Sati: the
continual mindfulness (wakefulness) found in the factors of jhana.
2 Pa��a: the intuitive discernment that comes from developing
mental concentration.
3 Vimutti: release from defilement
These are qualities that all
Buddhists should develop within themselves so as to gain Awakening, following
the example of the Buddha, becoming Savaka Buddhas
(Disciple Buddhas), an opportunity open -- without exception and with no
restrictions of time or place -- to all who follow his teachings.
Buddhists who revere the Buddha in
the full sense of the word should have two sorts of symbols with them, to serve
as reminders of their tradition --
1 Buddha-nimitta: representatives of the Buddha, such as
Buddha images or stupas in which relics of the Buddha are placed. This sort of
reminder is like a nation's flag.
2 Buddha-guna: the qualities that form the inner symbol of
the Buddha, i.e., the proper practice of his teachings. Whoever takes a stand
in this manner is bound to be victorious both within and without, safe from
such enemies as temptation and mortality.
Our nation's flag and the people of
our nation are two different things. Just as our flag will have value only if
the people of our nation are good and preserve the fullness of the nation's
qualities; so too, we Buddhists have to respect both our flag -- images of the
Buddha -- and the qualities of the Buddha if we are to be good Buddhists.
Otherwise, we will suffer from not having fulfilled our responsibilities.
To take an example, we Thai people,
in order to be Thai in the full sense, have to possess a number of qualifications:
the ability to speak and to read Thai, acquaintance with Thai customs and
traditions, the ability to benefit ourselves (attattha-cariya) and
to spread those benefits to help care for the needs of our parents, spouses,
and children (�atatthacariya). And not only that: If we have
the ability and the energy -- physical, mental, financial, or the energy of our
virtues -- we should expand those benefits to help our fellow human beings in
general throughout the nation (lokatthacariya).
This is what it means to be Thai in the full sense of the word. In the same
way, we who revere the image of the Buddha and the Buddha's good qualities
should have them with us at all times if we are to receive the full benefits
that come from being Buddhist and to maintain the peace and well-being of
Buddhists at large.
*
* *
II.
Dhammam saranam gacchami:
I go to the Dhamma for refuge.
There are three levels to the
Dhamma, the teachings of the Buddha --
A. Pariyatti: studying the words
of the Buddha as recorded in the Canon -- the Discipline, the Discourses, and
the Abhidhamma.
B. Patipatti: following the
practice of moral virtue, concentration, and discernment as derived from one's
study of the Canon.
C. Pativedha: Liberation.
A. The study of the Dhamma can be done in any of three ways --
1 Alagaddupama-pariyatti: studying like a
water viper.
2 Nissaranattha-pariyatti: studying for
the sake of emancipation.
3 Bhandagarika-pariyatti: studying to be a
storehouse keeper.
Studying like a water viper means to
study the words of the Buddha without then putting them into practice, having
no sense of shame at doing evil, disobeying the monastic code, making oneself
like a poisonous snake-head, full of the fires of greed, anger, and delusion.
Studying for the sake of
emancipation means to study the Buddha's teachings out of a desire for merit
and wisdom, with a sense of conviction and high regard for their worth -- and
then, once we have reached an understanding, bringing our thoughts, words, and
deeds into line with those teachings with a high sense of reverence and
respect. To try to bring the Buddha's teachings into line with ourselves is the
wrong approach -- because, for the most part, we are full of defilements,
cravings, views, and conceits. If we act in this way
we are bound to be more at fault than those who try to bring themselves into
line with the teachings: Such people are very hard to find fault with.
Studying to be a storehouse keeper
refers to the education of people who no longer have to be trained, i.e., of
Arahants, the highest level of the Noble Ones. Some Arahants, when they were
still ordinary, run-of-the-mill people, heard the Dhamma directly from the
Buddha once or twice and were able immediately to reach the highest attainment.
This being the case, they lacked a wide-ranging knowledge of worldly
conventions and traditions; and so, with an eye to the benefit of other
Buddhists, they were willing to undergo a certain amount of further education.
This way of studying the Dhamma is called 'sikkha-garavata': respect
for the training.
B. The
practice of the Dhamma means to conduct oneself in line with the words of the
Buddha as gathered under three headings:
-- Virtue: proper behavior, free
from vice and harm, in terms of one's words and deeds.
-- Concentration: intentness of
mind, centered on one of the themes of meditation, such as the breath.
-- Discernment: insight and
circumspection with regard to all fashioned things, i.e., physical properties,
aggregates, and sense media.
To conduct oneself in this manner is
termed practicing the Dhamma. By and large, though, Buddhists tend to practice
the Dhamma in a variety of ways that aren't in line with the true path of
practice. If we were to classify their ways of practice, there would be three:
1 Lokadhipateyya -- putting the world first.
2 Attadhipateyya -- putting
the self first.
3 Dhammadhipateyya -- putting
the Dhamma first.
To put the world first means to
practice for the sake of such worldly rewards as prestige, material gains,
praise, and sensual pleasures. When we practice this way, we are actually
torturing ourselves, because undesirable things are bound to occur: Having
attained prestige, we can lose it. Having acquired material gains, we can lose
them. Having received praise, we can receive censure. Having experienced
pleasure, we can see it disintegrate. Far from the paths, fruitions, and
nibbana, we torture ourselves by clinging to these things as our own.
To put the self
first means to practice in accordance with our own opinions, acting in
line with whatever those opinions may be. Most of us tend to side with
ourselves, getting stuck on our own views and conceits because our study of the
Dhamma hasn't reached the truth of the Dhamma, and so we take as our standard
our own notions, composed of four forms of personal bias --
a Chandagati: doing whatever we feel like
doing.
b Bhayagati: fearing certain forms of
power or authority, and thus not daring to practice the Dhamma as we truly
should. (We put certain individuals first.)
c Dosagati: acting under the power of
anger, defilement, craving, conceits, and views.
d Mohagati: practicing misguidedly, not
studying or searching for what is truly good; assuming that we're already smart
enough, or else that we're too stupid to learn; staying buried in our habits
with no thought of extracting ourselves from our sensual pleasures.
All of these ways of practice are
called 'putting the self first.'
To put the Dhamma first means to
follow the Noble Eightfold Path --
a. Right
View: seeing that there really is good, there really is evil, there really is
stress, that stress has a cause, that it disbands, and that there is a cause
for its disbanding.
b. Right
Resolve: thinking of how to rid ourselves of whatever qualities we know to be
wrong and immoral, i.e. seeing the harm in sensual
desires in that they bring on suffering and stress.
c. Right
Speech: speaking the truth; not saying anything divisive or inciteful; not
saying anything coarse or vulgar in situations where such words would not be
proper; not saying anything useless. Even though what we say may be worthwhile,
if our listener isn't interested then our words would still count as useless.
d. Right
Action: being true to our duties, not acting in ways that would be corrupt or bring
harm to ourselves or others.
e. Right
Livelihood: obtaining wealth in ways that are honest, searching for it in a
moral way and using it in a moral way.
f. Right
Effort: persisting in ridding ourselves of all that is wrong and harmful in our
thoughts, words, and deeds; persisting in giving rise to what would be good and
useful to ourselves and others in our thoughts, words, and deeds, without a
thought for the difficulty or weariness involved; acting persistently so as to
be a mainstay to others (except in cases that are beyond our control).
g. Right
Mindfulness: being mindful and deliberate, making sure not to act or speak
through the power of inattention or forgetfulness, making sure to be constantly
mindful in our thoughts (being mindful of the four frames of reference).
h. Right
Concentration: keeping the mind centered and resilient. No matter what we do or
say, no matter what moods may strike the heart, the heart keeps its poise, firm
and unflinching in the four levels of jhana.
These eight factors can be reduced
to three -- virtue, concentration, and discernment -- called the middle way,
the heart of the Buddha's teachings. The 'middleness'
of virtue means to be pure in thought, word, and deed, acting out of
compassion, seeing that the life of others is like your own, that their
possessions are like your own, feeling benevolence, loving others as much as
yourself. When 'you' and 'they' are equal in this way, you are bound to be
upright in your behavior, like a well-balanced burden that, when placed on your
shoulders, doesn't cause you to tip to one side or the other. But even then you are still in a position of having to shoulder a
burden. So you are taught to focus the mind on a
single preoccupation: This can be called 'holding in your hands' -- i.e.,
holding the mind in the middle -- or concentration.
The middleness
of concentration means focusing on the present, not sending your thoughts into
the past or future, holding fast to a single preoccupation (anapanaka-jhana, absorption in the breath).
As for the middleness
of discernment: No matter what preoccupations may come passing by, you are able
to rid yourself of all feelings of liking or disliking, approval or rejection.
You don't cling, even to the one preoccupation that has arisen as a result of your
own actions. You put down what you have been holding in your hands; you don't
fasten onto the past, present or future. This is release.
When our virtue, concentration, and
discernment are all in the middle this way, we're safe. Just as a boat going
down the middle of a channel, or a car that doesn't run off the side of the
road, can reach its destination without beaching or running into a tree; so
too, people who practice in this way are bound to reach the qualities they
aspire to, culminating in the paths and fruitions leading to nibbana, which is
the main point of the Buddha's teachings.
So in short, putting the Dhamma first means to search solely
for purity of heart.
C. The
attainment of the Dhamma refers to the attainment of the highest quality, nibbana.
If we refer to the people who reach this attainment, there are four sorts --
1 Sukha-vipassako: those who develop just
enough tranquility and discernment to act as a basis for advancing to
liberating insight and who thus attain nibbana having mastered only asavakkhaya-�ana, the
knowledge that does away with the fermentation of defilement.
2 Tevijjo: those who attain the three
skills.
3 Chalabhi��o: those who attain the six
intuitive powers.
4 Catuppatisambhidappatto: those who attain
the four forms of acumen.
To explain sukha-vipassako (those
who develop insight more than tranquility): Vipassana (liberating
insight) and asavakkhaya-�ana (the awareness that does away with the fermentation of
defilement) differ only in name. In actuality they refer to the same thing, the
only difference being that vipassana refers to the beginning
stage of insight, and asavakkhaya-�ana to the final stage: clear and true comprehension of
the four Noble Truths.
To explain tevijjo: The
three skills are --
a Pubbenivasanussati-�ana: the ability to remember past lives -- one, two, three,
four, five, ten, one hundred, one thousand, depending on one's powers of
intuition. (This is a basis for proving whether death is followed by rebirth or
annihilation.)
b Cutupapata-�ana: knowledge
of where living beings are reborn -- on refined levels
or base -- after they die.
c Asavakkhaya-�ana: the
awareness that enables one to do away with the fermentations in one's character
(sensuality, states of being, ignorance).
To explain chalabhi��o: The six intuitive powers are --
a Iddhividhi: the ability to display
miracles -- becoming invisible, walking on a dry path through a body of water,
levitating, going through rain without getting wet, going through fire without
getting hot, making a crowd of people appear to be only a few, making a few to
appear many, making oneself appear young or old as one likes, being able to use
the power of the mind to influence events in various ways.
b Dibbasota: clairaudience; the ability to
hear far distant sounds, beyond ordinary human powers.
c Cetopariya-�ana: the
ability to know the thoughts of others.
d Pubbenivasanussati-�ana: the ability to remember previous lives.
e Dibba-cakkhu: clairvoyance; the ability
to see far distant objects, beyond ordinary human powers. Some people can even
see other levels of being with their clairvoyant powers (one way of proving
whether death is followed by rebirth or annihilation, and whether or not there
really are other levels of being).
f Asavakkhaya-�ana: the
awareness that does away with the fermentation of defilement.
To explain catuppatisambhidappatto: The
four forms of acumen are --
a Attha-patisambhida: acumen with regard
to the sense of the Doctrine and of matters in general, knowing how to explain
various points in line with their proper meaning.
b Dhamma-patisambhida: acumen with regard to all mental
qualities.
c Nirutti-patisambhida: acumen with regard
to linguistic conventions. (This can include the ability to know the languages
of living beings in general.)
d Patibhana-patisambhida: acumen in
speaking on the spur of the moment, knowing how to answer any question so as to
clear up the doubts of the person asking (like the Venerable Nagasena).
This ends the discussion of the
virtues of the four classes of people -- called Arahants -- who have reached
the ultimate quality, nibbana. As for the essence of what it means to be an
Arahant, though, there is only one point -- freedom from defilement: This is
what it means to attain the Dhamma, the other virtues being simply adornment.
The three levels of Dhamma we have
discussed are, like the Buddha, compared to jewels: There are many kinds of jewels
to choose from, depending on how much wealth -- discernment -- we have.
All of the qualities we have
mentioned so far, to put them briefly so as to be of use, come down to this:
Practice so as to give rise to virtue, concentration, and discernment within
yourself. Otherwise, you won't have a refuge or shelter. A person without the
qualities that provide refuge and shelter is like a person without a home -- a
delinquent or a vagrant -- who is bound to wander shiftlessly about. Such
people are hollow inside, like a clock without any workings: Even though it has
a face and hands, it can't tell anyone where it is, what time it is, or whether
it's morning, noon, or night (i.e., such people forget that they are going to
die).
People who aren't acquainted with
the Dhamma within themselves are like people blind from birth: Even though they
are born in the world of human beings, they don't know the light of the sun and
moon that enables human beings to see. They get no benefit from the light of
the sun and moon or the light of fire; and being blind, they then go about
proclaiming to those who can see, that there is no sun, no moon, and no
brightness to the world. As a result, they mislead those whose eyes are already
a little bleary. In other words, some groups say that the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Sangha don't exist, that they were invented to fool the gullible.
Now, the Dhamma is something subtle
and fine, like the fire-potential (tejas) that
exists in the air or in various elements and that, if we have enough common
sense, can be drawn out and put to use. But if we're fools, we can sit staring
at a bamboo tube [a device for starting fire that works on the same principle
as the diesel engine] from dawn to dusk without ever seeing fire at all. Anyone
who believes that there is no Buddha, Dhamma, or Sangha, no series of paths or
fruitions leading to nibbana, no consciousness that experiences death and
rebirth, is like the fool sitting and staring at the bamboo tube.
Here I would like to tell a story as
an allegory of those who aren't acquainted with the Dhamma. There once was a
man living in the woods who, with his five sons, started growing crops in a
clearing about a mile from their home village. He built a small shack at the
clearing and would often take his sons to stay there. One morning he started a
fire in the shack and told his sons to look after the fire, for he was going
out to hunt for food in the forest. 'If the fire goes out,' he told them, 'get
some fire from my bamboo tube and start it up again.' Then he set out to search
for food for his sons.
After he had left, his sons got so
wrapped up in their play that when they finally took a look at the fire, they
found that it was completely out. So they had the
first son go get some fire to start it up again. The first son walked over and
tried knocking on the bamboo tube but didn't see any fire. So
they had the second son get some fire from the tube: He opened it up but didn't
see any fire inside. All he saw were two bamboo chips but he didn't know what
to do with them. So the third son came over for a look
and, since he didn't see any fire, he took a knife to cut the tube in half but
still didn't see any fire. The fourth son went over and, seeing the two halves
lying there, shaved them down into thin strips to find the fire in them but
didn't see any fire at all.
Finally the fifth son went over to look for fire, but before he
went he said to his brothers, 'What's the matter with you guys that you can't
get any fire from the bamboo tube? What a bunch of fools you are! I'll go get
it myself.' With that, he went to look at the bamboo tube and found it split
into strips lying in pile. Realizing what his brothers had done, and thinking,
'What a bunch of hare-brains,' he reached for a mortar and pestle and ground up
the bamboo strips to find the fire in them. By the time he ran out of strength,
he had ground them into a powder, but he still hadn't found any fire. So he snuck off to play by himself.
Eventually, toward noon, the father
returned from the forest and found that the fire had gone out. So he asked his sons about it, and they told him how they
had looked for fire in the bamboo tube without finding any. 'Idiots,' he thought,
'they've taken my fire-starter and pounded it to bits. For that, I won't fix
them any food. Let 'em starve!' As a result, the boys
didn't get anything to eat the entire day.
Those of us who aren't acquainted
with the brightness of the Dhamma -- 'Dhammo padipo' -- lying within us, who don't believe that
the Dhamma has value for ourselves and others, are lacking in discernment, like
the boys looking for fire in the bamboo tube. Thus we
bring about our own ruin in various ways, wasting our lives: born in darkness,
living in darkness, dying in darkness, and then reborn in more darkness all
over again. Even though the Dhamma lies within us, we can't get any use from it
and thus will suffer for a long time to come, like the boys who ruined their
father's fire-starter and so had to go without food.
The Dhamma lies within us, but we
don't look for it. If we hope for goodness, whether on a low or a high level,
we'll have to look here, inside, if we are to find what is truly good. But
before we can know ourselves in this way, we first have to know -- through
study and practice -- the principles taught by the Buddha.
Recorded Dhamma (pariyatti dhamma) is simply one of the symbols of
the Buddha's teachings. The important point is to actualize the Dhamma through
the complete practice of virtue, concentration, and discernment. This is an
essential part of the religion, the part that forms the inner symbol of all
those who practice rightly and well. Whether the religion will be good or bad,
whether it will prosper or decline, depends on our practice, not on the
recorded doctrine, because the recorded doctrine is merely a symbol. So if we aim at goodness, we should focus on developing our
inner quality through the Dhamma of practice (patipatti
dhamma). As for the main point of Buddhism, that's the Dhamma of
attainment (pativedha dhamma), the
transcendent quality: nibbana.
*
* *
III.
Sangham saranam gacchami:
I go to the Sangha for refuge.
The word Sangha, if
translated as a substantive, refers to those who have ordained and are wearing
the yellow robe. Translated as a quality, it refers to all people in general
who have practiced correctly in line with the Buddha's teachings. Members of
the monastic order, however, are of all sorts, and so we have two groups --
A. Sammuti-sangha: the
conventional Sangha.
B. Ariya-sangha: the Noble
Sangha.
Membership in the conventional
Sangha is attained through consent of the Order, in a formal ceremony with
witnesses, following the procedures set out in the Vinaya. Membership in the
Noble Sangha is attained when the quality of transcendence (lokuttara dhamma) appears in one's heart as a
result of one's own behavior and practice, with no formalities of any sort
whatsoever. All Buddhists -- whether formally ordained or not, no matter what
their sex, color, or social position -- can become members of this Sangha. This
is termed being ordained by the Dhamma, or being self-ordained in a way that
cannot be faulted.
To speak in abstract terms, the
qualities of transcendence, stable and sure, that appear in the hearts of those
who practice -- leading them solely to the higher realms and closing off the
four states of destitution (apaya) --
are, taken together, called the Noble Sangha.
A. Members
of the conventional Sangha, with regard to the way they conduct themselves,
fall into four groups --
1 Upajivika: those who are looking simply
for ways to make a living, without looking for any higher virtues to develop
within themselves. They use the yellow robe as a means of livelihood, without
any thought of following the threefold training of virtue, concentration, and
discernment.
2 Upakilika: those who become ordained
without any respect for the training, looking simply for pastimes for their own
enjoyment -- collecting plants, playing chess, gambling, buying lottery
tickets, betting on horses -- looking for gain in ways forbidden by the Vinaya,
disobeying the words of the Buddha, disregarding the virtues set out in the
scriptures, undermining the religion.
3 Upamuyuhika: those who are close-minded
and misguided, unwilling to train themselves in heightened virtue,
concentration, or discernment. Even though they may have some education and
knowledge, they still keep themselves closed-minded, making excuses based on
their teachers, the time, the place, and their accustomed beliefs and
practices. Stuck where they are, such people are unwilling to change their ways
so as to accord with the principles of the doctrine.
4 Upanissarana: those who desire merit and
wisdom; who search for the true principles of the Dhamma and Vinaya; who set
their hearts on studying with reverence and respect, and conduct themselves in
line with what they have learned; who aim for the merit and wisdom offered by
Buddhism, for the path leading to release from suffering; who rightly follow
the Lord Buddha's teachings, i.e., --
a Anupavado: They don't berate others in
inappropriate ways.
b Anupaghato: They aren't vindictive.
c Patimokkhe ca samvaro: They
stay well within the precepts of the Patimokkha and
don't disobey the injunctions of the Vinaya -- like good citizens, desired by
the nation, who stay within the bounds of the government's laws. (If people
don't keep within the laws of the land, it will lead only to turmoil, because
people who have no bounds are like farmers who have no boundary markers and who
will thus infringe on one another's property, giving rise to needless disputes
and ill-feeling, serving no purpose whatsoever.)
d Matta��uta
ca bhattasmim: They
have a sense of moderation in searching for and using the four necessities of
life. They understand how to make the best use of things -- knowing what's
beneficial and what's harmful, what is and what isn't of use to the body, considering
things carefully before making use of them (in line with the principles of
morality and the Buddha's teachings).
e Panta�ca
sayanasanam: They favor quiet, secluded
places to stay. To quote from the Canon, these include:
-- Ara��agato
va: going
to a forest wilderness, far from human society, free from social interaction
-- Su��agaragato
va: or
to uninhabited dwellings, in places far off the beaten track.
-- Rukkhamulagato
va: or
living under the shade of a tree, in a cave, or under an overhanging cliff face,
so as to aid the heart in attaining concentration.
f Adhicitte ca ayogo: They
make a persistent effort, through the practice of concentration, to cleanse the
heart, freeing it from such Hindrances as sensual desire.
Etam buddhana sasanam: All of these factors are the teachings of the Buddhas.
Na
hi pabbajito parupaghati
Samano hoti param
vihethayanto.
How
can a person who harms himself and others be a good monk?
These, then are the attributes of
the Sangha. In broad terms, they come down to two sorts:
1. Sangha-nimitta: the symbol of having been ordained (the
mode of dress, etc.).
2. Guna-sampatti: the inner qualifications
-- virtue and truth -- of those worthy meditators who are held to be the field
of merit for the world.
Those with the necessary resources
-- i.e., discernment -- will obtain a good field. Whatever seed they plant will
give a yield well worth the effort involved, just as an intelligent person who
puts his savings in a safe national bank will protect his capital from loss and
even earn a profit.
Just as a good rice field has four
characteristics -- the ground is level and even, the dike has a water gate that
is easy to open and close, the soil is rich in nutrients, the rainfall comes at
the proper season -- in the same way, members of the Sangha who are to be a
field of merit for the world have to be endowed with the four following qualities:
1. The
analogy of level, even ground refers to those monks who are free from the four
forms of personal bias. Whatever they do in thought, word and deed, they are
free from:
a Chandagati -- i.e., they don't act solely under
the power of their own likes and inclinations;
b Dosagati -- or under the power of ill will or
anger towards others;
c Mohagati -- or under the power of delusion;
d Bhayagati -- or under the power of fear or
apprehension of any sort whatsoever. They aim at what is right and true as
their major concern, both in the presence of others and in private, keeping
themselves always on a par with their principles.
2. As
for the analogy of a water gate that is easy to open and close, 'closing'
refers to exercising restraint so that evil doesn't arise within us. Restraint
has four aspects --
a Patimokkha-samvara-sila: staying within
the bounds of the Monastic Code.
b Indriya-samvara-sila: exercising
restraint over our senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, feeling, and
ideation so as to keep the mind quiet, unagitated, and in good order.
c Ajiva-parisuddhi-sila: searching
for the necessities of life -- food, clothing, shelter, and medicine -- only in
ways that are proper.
d Paccaya-paccavekkhana-parisuddhi-sila: considering
the necessities of life before using them so as not to use them out of desire
or craving.
To exercise restraint in these ways
is called 'closing.' 'Closing,' however, can be understood in another way,
i.e., exercising restraint so that corruption doesn't arise in the three areas
of our thoughts, words, and deeds.
a. To
close or control our deeds means, in broad terms, not to kill living beings or
to oppress or torment them in any way; not to steal the belongings of others;
and not to engage in sexual misconduct (or in the sexual act) or to give rein
to any sensual desires. Even though such desires may arise in the heart, we
keep them under control. This is what it means to close our deeds.
b. To
close our words means not to tell lies, either to others people's faces or
behind their backs; not to speak divisively, i.e., in a way that would lead to
a needless falling-out between people; not to speak coarsely or abusively, not cursing,
swearing or being vulgar; and not to engage in useless chatter, saying things
that are of no real use to ourselves or our listeners. To be intent on
restraining ourselves in this way is called closing off evil words so that they
don't have a chance to arise.
c. To
close off evil thoughts means:
-- Anabhijjha-visama-lobha: refraining from the greed that goes above and beyond
our sphere and powers to the point where dissatisfaction defiles the mind.
-- Abyapada: not storing up feelings of ill will to the point where
anger takes over and we let jealousy and displeasure show,
-- Sammaditthi: keeping our views correct in line with right
principles, eliminating views that arise from the mind's being clouded and
untrained -- i.e., overpowered by ignorance and delusion -- to the point of
believing that there is no good or evil, and from there to deeply ingrained
unwise mental states. If we take care to ward off these unwise mental qualities
so that they can't arise in our hearts, they will give way to Right View:
seeing that there really is good, there really is evil; that virtue,
generosity, and meditation really give results; that the paths and fruitions
leading to nibbana really exist. When we see things in this way, we have in
effect closed off evil, preventing it from penetrating our hearts, just as rice
farmers close their dykes to prevent salt water from flowing into their fields.
As for 'opening,' it refers to
practicing the five forms of unselfishness --
a Avasamacchariya: not being possessive of
the place over which we have control, such as our temple or monastery; not
preventing good people from coming to stay. If people are pure in their behavior
and able to impart what is good to us, we should make room for them so that
they can stay in comfort. Evil people, however, shouldn't be allowed to
infiltrate our group; and bad people who are already in the group should be
expelled. This is how to behave with discernment in this area.
b Kulamacchariya: not being possessive of
our families. On the external level, this refers to the families who support
us. We don't prevent them from making offerings to other individuals and we
don't prevent capable individuals from teaching and advising them. Some monks
stand in the way of such interchanges, creating barriers with their thoughts,
words, and deeds. Sometimes if their supporters make merit with other
individuals, they even make reprisals, such as refusing to allow that family to
make merit with their own groups or factions. These worthless attitudes
shouldn't be allowed to arise in our hearts.
On the internal level, being
possessive of our 'family' refers to the heart's attachment to sensations and
mental acts, which form the family line of unawakened
people. We should abandon this attachment so that we can enter the lineage of
the Noble Ones.
c Labhamacchariya: not being possessive of
the material gains we have attained through proper means, not regarding them as
being our own. Material gains, as classified by the Vinaya, are of four sorts:
food, clothing, shelter (lodgings and the items used in them, such as
furniture, matting, etc.), and medicine. We should see that when people present
us with offerings of this sort, they have abandoned an enemy -- their own
stinginess and selfishness -- and have gained in worth and wisdom through the
power of their sacrifice. Anyone who receives such an offering and clings to it
as really being his own is like a person who collects coconut pulp or sugar
cane pulp from which others have already squeezed and drunk the juice. For this
reason, people of wisdom and discernment aren't possessive of their belongings.
They are always willing to relinquish and share their gains -- in proportion to
the amount they have received -- so that others can make use of them.
This is external relinquishment. As
for internal relinquishment: Whereas we once ate as we liked, many times a day,
we now eat less, only one meal a day. We use only one set of robes. We
relinquish our comfortable lodgings and undertake the ascetic practice of
living in the forest or under the shade of a tree. If we become ill, we search
for medicine and treat our disease with moderation, in a way that doesn't
create burdens for others. In other words, we relinquish ourselves as an
offering to the religion by putting it into practice. This is classed as the
internal relinquishment of material gain through the power of our practice and
conduct.
d Vannamacchariya: not being possessive of
our 'color' (vanna). 'Vanna,' here,
can be interpreted in two ways. In one sense, it refers to social caste or
class. For example, the ruling class, the religious elite, property owners, and
laborers are held to be unequal in status, and the members of one group are
unwilling to let other groups mix with theirs. If such mixing occurs, they
regard it as something base and disgraceful and so they continually put up barriers to prevent it from happening. In this case,
we can infer that we shouldn't make distinctions based on faction, nationality,
color, or race, because the Buddha taught that a person's worth comes not from
his or her birth, but from the goodness of his or her own actions; or, as we
say, 'Those who do good will meet with good, those who do evil will meet with
evil.' For example, we worship and respect the Buddha even though he wasn't Thai
as we are. We respect him through the power of his goodness. If we were to be
close-minded and nationalistic, we Thai's wouldn't
have any religion to worship at all aside from the religion of spirits and
ghosts.
The second sense of 'vanna' refers to the complexion of our skin. This, too, we
cling to, unwilling to sacrifice it for what is worthy and good. We hesitate to
observe the precepts, to meditate, or to undertake the ascetic practices for
fear that we'll spoil our looks and complexion.
e Dhammamacchariya: not being possessive
of the Buddha's teachings we have learned. Possessiveness in this case can mean
not wanting to teach unless we are reimbursed, not wanting to preach unless
there is an offering, or complaining if the offering is small.
On another level, being possessive
of the dhamma can refer to holding on to the unskillful qualities (akusala-dhamma) within us; being unwilling to rid
ourselves of such evils as greed, anger, delusion, pride, conceit, or any of
the other fermentations of defilement; clinging to these things without
searching for the techniques, called the Path, for relinquishing them, i.e.:
-- the precepts of the Monastic Code
that, if we observe them carefully, can eliminate the common defilements
arising through our words and deeds;
-- the practice of concentration
that, when it is developed in our hearts, can eliminate intermediate
defilements, i.e., such Hindrances as sensual desire;
-- the discernment that, when it
arises within us, can eliminate such subtle defilements from our hearts
as avijja -- mental murkiness; tanha --
craving; and upadana -- attachment
to false assumptions.
When we develop these five forms of
unselfishness, we can be classed as open -- and our eyes will be open to
perceiving the highest quality, the transcendent.
3. The
analogy of soil rich in nutrients refers to our putting four qualities into
practice --
a Metta: good
will, friendliness, hoping for our own well-being and that of all other living
beings.
b Karuna: compassion
for ourselves and others, which induces us to be helpful in various ways.
c Mudita: appreciation for ourselves for
having cultivated goodness; appreciation (not feeling jealousy) for the
goodness cultivated by others.
d Upekkha: equanimity in cases beyond our
control. For instance, when death has come to a person we know, we see that it
is beyond our help and so we keep our hearts neutral, not allowing feelings of
sadness or gladness to arise.
For these four qualities to arise in
fully mature form, they have to appear in our thoughts, words, and deeds.
Whatever we may do in thought, word, or deed should not be done through the
power of anger. We should regard anger as an ogre -- and when anger takes over,
our body becomes an ogre's tool: his bludgeon. To see the drawbacks of anger in
this way can give rise to good will in thought, word, and deed, extending
without partiality to all people and living beings throughout the world. Even
with our enemies we should try to develop these same thoughts of good will, by
looking for their good side, in one way or another, instead of looking just at
their bad side, which can cause hatred to invade and consume our hearts. Anger
is a fire that can't burn other people; it burns only ourselves. This is why we
should develop good will within our hearts. The power of good will brings good
to everyone -- just as food that contains the nutrients needed by people brings
health and contentment to all who eat it; or as fertilizer with the proper
nutrients can cause plants and trees to grow, give fruit, and so be of use to
people and other living beings. Good will is thus a form of goodness that can
be classed as nourishment. (Good will is what cools the fevers of the world.)
4. The
analogy of seasonable rain refers to our establishing ourselves in the four
bases of success (iddhipada) --
a Chanda: feeling
a love and an affinity for goodness and virtue as much as for life, or more.
b Viriya: being persistent, audacious, and
persevering in cultivating goodness within ourselves.
c Citta: being intent on whatever we set
about to do.
d Vimansa: being discriminating and
circumspect at all times in whatever we set about to do.
These four qualities can lead to two
kinds of success: iddhiriddhi --
success through the power of thought; and pu��ariddhi --
success that comes on its own. Both of these forms of success, on the level of
the world or the Dhamma, have to be based on the four qualities mentioned
above. These four qualities are like preservatives: Whoever is saturated with
them won't go sour or stale. And when we're free from going stale, our work is
bound not to stagnate and so is sure to succeed.
Another comparison: These four
qualities are 'sacca-kamma' --
actions that give rise to truth, achieving our purposes. Those who bring these
qualities into themselves will become true people. Truth can be compared to
salt: If we try to keep food, like vegetables or fish, without salting it, it
soon turns rotten and wormy, making it unfit for human consumption. But if we
salt it, it can keep for a long time. A good example of this is our Lord
Buddha, whose actions gave rise to truth and who thus was able to establish the
religion so as to benefit people at large. Even the body he left behind still
serves a purpose for human and divine beings. For instance, his bones, which
have become relics, are still with us even though he gained total liberation a
long time ago. As for his teachings, they have lasted for more than 2,500
years. And he himself is deathless, i.e., he has entered total nibbana. All of
this was achieved by means of truth, i.e., the four bases of success.
Those of us who have no truth,
though, are like unsalted fish or meat, and are bound to go wormy. The worms,
here, refer to our various defilements and are of three main species: The first
species is composed of affection, anger, and delusion; these feed on us from
our feet to our waists. The second species -- sensual desire, ill-will, torpor,
restlessness, and uncertainty -- latch on and bore into us from our waists to
our necks. And the third species -- the fermentation of sensuality, states of
being, views, and ignorance (cloudy, unclear knowledge) -- eats us up whole:
ears, eyes, nose, mouth, body, and mind. Whoever is all wormy like this is
classed as a person gone rotten and stale, who hasn't reached any qualities of
substance. And for this reason, the bones of such a person after death are no
match for the bones of chickens and pigs, for no one wants them. If the bones
and meat of such a person were put up for sale, no one would buy. And
furthermore, such a person will have to come back as an angry ghost, lolling
its tongue and rolling its eyes, to frighten its children and grandchildren.
Thus, whoever develops the four
qualities mentioned above will reach deathlessness -- amata
dhamma -- which is like a crystalline shower that comes from
distilling away all impurities, just as rain water, which is distilled from the
sea, rises into the air and returns to the earth, nourishing the grasses,
crops, and trees, giving refreshment to people and other living beings.
These, then, are some of the
characteristics of those who form the field of merit for the world both on the
mundane and on the transcendent levels, who conduct themselves in keeping with
the phrase in the chant of the virtues of the Sangha:
Pu��akkhettam
lokassati
'The
field of merit for the world.'
Now we will discuss the chant of the
virtues of the Sangha further as a path to practice, because the virtues of the
Sangha are open to all Buddhists in general, without excluding any individual,
race, or social class at all. Whoever puts these principles into practice is
capable of becoming a member of the Noble Sangha without having to go through
the formalities of the Vinaya. In other words, this is a community and a state
of worthiness open to all who put the following principles into practice --
1 Supatipanno: being a person whose
conduct is good. 'Good conduct' refers to seven principles --
a. We
should gather frequently -- for the daily chanting services, to hear the Dhamma
explained, to seek out wise people, and to join whole-heartedly in the work of
the group. This is external gathering. What is really important, though, is
internal gathering, i.e., collecting the mind in concentration, which is the
gathering point of all that is good and forms the basic skill for bringing the
factors of the Path together (magga-samangi).
b. When
a meeting of the group disperses, we should all disperse at the same time and
not act at variance with the group. On the internal level, we should all as a
group disperse shoddiness from our thoughts, words, and deeds.
c. We
should neither establish new rules that were not established by the Buddha nor
abandon those that were. For example, don't make a practice of doing things the
Buddha declared to be worthless, evil, or wrong; develop within yourself the
things he taught to be good, right, and worthwhile.
d. Be
respectful of your elders, teachers, parents, etc.
e. Whatever
you do in thought, word, or deed, don't act under the influence of craving,
anger, or delusion.
f. Make
a point of searching out virtuous people.
g. Take
pleasure in solitude.
This is what is meant by good
conduct.
2 Uju-patipanno: being a person whose
conduct is straightforward, firmly established in the threefold training --
virtue, concentration, and discernment -- which leads straight to nibbana;
being fair and just, unswayed by any of the four
forms of personal bias. This is what is meant by straightforward conduct.
3 �aya-patipanno: being a person whose conduct leads to higher knowledge.
This refers to following fifteen procedures (carana-dhamma) --
a Patimokkha-samvara: keeping within the
precepts of the Monastic Code, respecting the training rules of the Vinaya.
(For laypeople, this means observing the five or eight precepts.)
b Indriya-samvara: keeping watch over your
senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, feeling, and ideation so as to keep the
mind collected and at peace.
c Bhojane matta��uta: knowing moderation in the requisites of life, i.e.,
eating only just enough food.
d Jagariyanuyoga: being persistent in
cleansing the mind so that it is pure and bright, not allowing lapses in
mindfulness or alertness to occur.
e Saddha: conviction, i.e., being
convinced of the truth of good and evil, of the paths and their fruitions; having
conviction in people who merit it.
f Hiri: feeling shame at the thought of
doing evil, not doing evil either in public or in private.
g Ottappa: having a sense of dread at the
thought of doing evil.
h Bahusacca: being well-educated and
always willing to learn.
i Viriya: being
persistent, unflagging, and courageous in performing your duties.
j Sati: being
mindful before doing anything in thought, word, or deed.
k Pa��a: developing discernment as to what should and should
not be done, as to what is and isn't beneficial.
l Pathama-jhana: the first level of jhana, composed of five factors -- directed thought,
evaluation, rapture, pleasure, and singleness of preoccupation. (Jhana means to be absorbed in or focused on a single object
or preoccupation, as when we deal with the breath.)
m Dutiya-jhana: the second level of jhana, composed of three factors -- rapture, pleasure, and
singleness of preoccupation.
n Tatiya-jhana: the third level of jhana, composed of two factors -- pleasure and singleness
of preoccupation.
o Catuttha-jhana: the fourth level of jhana, composed of two factors -- equanimity and pure mindfulness,
which is the single preoccupation of your concentration.
This is what is meant by conduct
leading to higher knowledge.
Here we will discuss how to give
rise to the first level of jhana.
Directed thought: Think of the
breath until you can recognize it both as it comes in and as it goes out.
Singleness of preoccupation: Let the
mind become one, at rest with the breath, not straying away to other objects.
Watch over your thoughts so that they deal only with the breath until the
breath becomes comfortable.
Evaluation: Focus exclusively on
issues connected with the breath and acquaint yourself with how to let this
comfortable breath-sensation spread and co-ordinate with the other
breath-sensations in the body. Let these breath-sensations spread until they
all merge. Once the body has been soothed by the breath, feelings of pain will
grow calm. The body will be filled with good breath energy.
For jhana
to arise, these three factors have to be brought to bear on the same breath
sensation. This breath sensation can lead all the way to the fourth level of jhana, the level of refinement depending on the act of
focusing through the power of mindfulness: Sometimes the focus is broad,
sometimes narrow, in accordance with the different factors on the different levels.
But to be really beneficial, you should let the breath spread as broadly as
possible, being constantly aware throughout the body of the various aspects of
the breath. You will then get excellent results from your practice of jhana. You might even gain liberating insight on this
level, because the first level of jhana is what
constitutes threshold concentration (upacara
samadhi).
If you want to go on to fixed
penetration (appana samadhi), you
should keep practicing this level until you are skilled, i.e., skilled at
fixing the mind on a single object, at adjusting and expanding the object, and at
staying in place. When you want your concentration to have energy, make the
breath light and refined -- but keep your mindfulness broad. Otherwise, the
mind might go into arupa jhana, where it has no sense of the form of the
body; or you might sit absolutely still, without any awareness of the body at
all, while the mind pays attention to another area, such as simple awareness,
completely disregarding the body or sitting unconscious, like a log. This
is bahira-jhana, concentration
outside of the Buddha's teachings, incapable of giving rise to liberating
insight.
So when you begin, you should develop the three
above-mentioned factors as much as possible, and the mind will then be able to
go on to the second level of jhana. When you fix the
mind on the breath repeatedly using these three beginning factors, they give
rise to two more factors:
Rapture: a sense of fullness and
refreshment of body and mind, going straight to the heart, independent of all
else.
Pleasure: a sense of ease arising
from the body's being still and undisturbed (kaya-passaddhi), and
from the mind's being at rest on its own, placid and serene (citta-passaddhi).
The factors of the first level of jhana, then, are of two sorts: cause and result. The causes
are directed thought, evaluation, and singleness of preoccupation; the results,
rapture and pleasure, .
As for the second level of jhana, with its three factors of rapture, pleasure, and
singleness of preoccupation: This refers to the state of mind that has tasted
the results coming from the first level of jhana. The
sense of fullness becomes more powerful, as does the sense of pleasure,
allowing the mind to abandon its thinking and evaluating, so that the
singleness of the preoccupation takes the lead from here on in. Make the mind
still in the refined sense of the breath. Body and mind are full and at ease;
the mind is more firmly implanted in its object than before. After a while, as
you keep focusing in, the sense of fullness and pleasure begins to move. Focus
the mind down to a more refined level and you will enter the third level of jhana.
The third level of jhana has two factors -- pleasure and singleness of
preoccupation: The mind is solitary; the body, solitary and still. The breath
is refined and broad, with a white glow like cotton-wool throughout the body,
stilling all painful feelings in body and mind. Not a single Hindrance (nivarana) arises to interfere. The four properties
-- earth, water, fire, and wind -- are at peace with one another in every part:
You could almost say that they're pure throughout the entire body. The mind is
completely still -- steady, solid, and sure -- reaching oneness in a solitary
sense of ease. Body and mind are in solitude. Even if you're with a group of
people, you feel as if you were alone. The mind is strong, ardent, and
expansive. Mindfulness is broad -- spreading throughout the body, focused
exclusively on the present, not affected by any allusions to past or future.
The breath gives rise to an energy that is pure white. The mind has power. The
focus is strong, and the light brilliant. Energy is unwavering, so that you are
no longer concerned with your sense of pleasure, which dilates somewhat. This
causes the mind to focus on into the fourth level of jhana.
The fourth level of jhana has two factors -- equanimity and singleness of
preoccupation (or mindfulness). The breath energy is still, with no ripples or
gaps. The properties of the body are undisturbed. As for the mind, it is
undisturbed with regard to all three time periods: uninvolved with the past,
uninvolved with the future, undisturbed by the present. When the mind stays
with this undisturbed sense of equanimity, this is the true meaning of
'singleness of preoccupation.' The breath is at peace, the body at peace in
every part. There is no need to use the in-and-out breath. The breath energy
has reached saturation point.
The four properties (dhatu) are
equal, all with the same characteristics. The mind is completely at peace, with
a brilliance streaming in all directions. The brilliance of the breath at peace
reaches full strength. The brilliance of the mind arises from the power of
mindfulness focused on all four of the great frames of reference: body, feelings,
mind, and mental qualities. The question of their being four doesn't arise, for
in this mental moment they coalesce in perfect unity. The brilliance of the
mind and of the body, which arises from the power of their solitary stillness,
shines as jagariyanuyoga, the
purifying inner fire (tapas) that can dispel darkness
thoroughly. The bright light of the mind reaches full strength. The purity of
the different parts of the breath energy keeps the other properties in good
order. The body is completely at peace, like a factory at rest. In other words,
you don't have to use the in-and-out breath. The body develops potency; the
mind, resilient power. When these reach saturation point, if you then want to
give rise to knowledge, shift your awareness so that it dilates slightly, and
the important skills that arise from the power of the mind -- such as the Eight
Skills -- will appear, i.e.,:
1 Vipassana-�ana: clear insight into the elements, aggregates, and sense
media.
2 Manomayiddhi: the ability to achieve one's
aims through the power of thought.
3 Iddhividhi: the ability to display a
variety of supra-normal powers.
4 Dibba-sota: clairaudience, the ability
to hear far distant sounds.
5 Cetopariya-�ana: the
ability to know the mental states of other people.
6 Pubbe-nivasanussati-�ana: the ability to remember past lives. (This is a basis
for proving whether death is followed by annihilation or rebirth, and whether
or not there really are other levels of existence.)
7 Dibba-cakkhu: clairvoyance, the inner
eye that arises from the power of the mind, relying to some extent on the optic
nerves.
8 Asavakkhaya-�ana: knowing
how to eliminate the fermentations of defilement as they relate to your various
forms of knowledge.
If you want to give rise to
supernormal powers, formulate an intention at that point, and it will appear
openly, so that ordinary people will be able to see it.
Both of these aspects -- knowledge
and power -- can lead to mastery on the level of the world and of the Dhamma.
The properties in the body acquire potency; the mind becomes a potent center of
consciousness. This is the science of the mind on an advanced level, giving
rise to an advanced form of Buddhist learning: lokavidu, wide-ranging
knowledge of the cosmos.
To develop the factors discussed
here is to warrant the name, �aya-patipanno, one whose conduct leads to
higher knowledge.
(The moment in which the enemies of
the body -- impure properties -- disband and disappear is termed 'sankhata-lakkhana-nirodha,' conditioned
disbanding. When the enemies of the mind -- i.e., the five Hindrances --
disappear completely, leaving the mind radiant and clear, that is termed 'bhujissaka-nirodha,' disbanding in a state of
dependency.)
4 Samici-patipanno: being a person whose
conduct is masterful. This refers to our conduct in developing two qualities:
tranquility and insight.
a. The
practice of tranquility means stilling the mind in a single preoccupation, free
from the five Hindrances, so as to attain the four levels of rupa-jhana.
b. The
practice of insight means seeing clearly and truly into the nature of all
conditioned things (sankhara), e.g.,
seeing that they are inconstant, stressful, and not-self; gaining discernment
that sees distinctly in terms of the four Noble Truths; seeing conditioned
things from both sides, i.e., the side that is inconstant, stressful, and
not-self, and the side that is constant, pleasant, and self; giving rise to the
state of pure knowledge and vision termed 'gotarabhu-�ana,' escaping from the assumption that things are either
constant or inconstant; knowing both the side that arises and disbands, as well
as the side that doesn't arise and doesn't disband, without making assumptions
about or being attached to either side. Theories, views, and conceits
disappear. The mind doesn't fasten onto anything, past, present, or future.
This is termed 'asesa-viraga-nirodha,' utter
disbanding and dispassion. This is the way of insight.
Insight, analyzed in detail in terms
of the Doctrine in line with the conventions of the sages of the past, means
knowledge of the four Noble Truths:
-- Dukkha: mental and physical stress, the result of being
overcome by the power of birth, ageing, illness, death, and defilement.
-- Samudaya: the cause of stress -- i.e., tanha, craving
or thirst -- which includes kama-tanha, insatiable
craving for sensual pleasures; bhava-tanha, the desire to be
or have certain states of being; and vibhava-tanha, the
desire not to be or have certain states of being.
-- Nirodha: the disbanding of stress; the extinguishing of the
fires of defilement.
-- Magga: the path of practice that puts an end to craving, the
cause of stress.
All four of these Noble Truths
already exist in the world, but ordinarily are hard to perceive because they
show us only their images or reflections. On this level, we can't yet see them
for what they really are. But for the Buddha to know them, he had to start out
with the reflections that appear, before he was able to trace them back to the
real thing. This is why they are termed Noble Truths: They are the possessions
of noble people; only those who search and explore can know them. Thus, the
Noble Truths have two aspects: their first aspect, which is the way they are
found in the experience of ordinary people in general; and their second aspect,
which is more subtle and can be known only by people of wisdom who explore in
the area of the heart and mind.
An example of the four Truths on the
ordinary level, as experienced by ordinary people: Physical discomfort, such as
illness or disease, can be called the truth of stress. Knowing enough to buy
the right medicine, or being a doctor who knows the medicine for curing that
particular kind of disease, is the truth of the path. As the symptoms of the
disease disappear, that is termed conditional disbanding. When the disease is
cured, that is the truth of disbanding. If, however, we suffer from a disease,
such as a wound, but don't know how to treat it -- simply wanting it to heal
and using whatever medicine we can lay our hands on, without knowing whether
it's right or wrong (this is termed craving and ignorance) -- the wound will
only worsen, for the medicine we take isn't right for the disease. This is the
truth of the cause of stress.
If we want to go deeper than the
ordinary level, we have to practice correctly in line with the way of the Path,
developing our virtue, concentration, and discernment, before we will be able
to perceive the four Truths on the noble level.
The essence of the Dhamma, by its nature,
lies mixed with its outer accretions. If we don't have the right knowledge and
skill, we won't get very much use from the Dhamma. Whatever benefits we do get
will be only on the mundane level. We can make a comparison with diamond or
gold ore buried in the ground: If a person doesn't have enough knowledge to
extract the ore, he will get only the traces that come flowing out in spring
water or that adhere to rocks along the surface of the ground. These will earn
him only a meager profit, which won't be enough for a living. A person with
knowledge and skill, though, can use the gold to make a living without having
to search for any other occupations, but he'll have to follow the traces down
into the earth until he meets with the real thing, i.e.
the genuine ore. Even just a single hunk -- if it's large and of high quality,
weighing a ton -- will enable him to rest secure for the rest of his life. In
the same way, those who are wise in Buddhism see stress as a noble treasure and
so go digging down into stress; they see the cause of stress as a noble
treasure and so dig down into it; they see the Path as a noble treasure; they
see disbanding and liberation as noble treasures and so dig on down until they
meet with the genuine ore. Only then can they be called noble sages.
Those of us who are dauntless enough
to unearth our inner resources in this way will be able to use those resources
to protect ourselves throughout time, gaining release from the cycle of
rebirth, the jail for imprisoning foolish and ignorant people. We who like to
explore in general should be glad that we've come across a good mine with
genuine ore whose traces lie scattered about for us to see. If we don't
disregard the things we see, we'll meet the four Truths mentioned above.
If we were to summarize the four
Noble Truths briefly, we could do so as follows: The objects or preoccupations
of the mind that arise and disappear are the truth of stress. The mental act
that enters into and takes possession of those objects is the truth of the cause
of stress. The mental act that focuses in on those objects and examines them as
they arise and disappear is the truth of the Path; and the mental act that lets
go of those objects as they arise and disappear is the truth of disbanding, or
release -- i.e., that which knows the reality that doesn't arise and doesn't
disappear.
These, then, are the four Noble
Truths. Those who see these four Truths directly for themselves will give rise
to the noble path and fruition termed 'stream-entry.' Such people are a field
of merit for the world: worthy of respect, worthy of welcome, worthy of
offerings and veneration.
Whoever possesses the qualities
mentioned here qualifies rightly as a member of the Sangha in line with the
Doctrine and Discipline taught by the Buddha, and may be called, samici-patipanno, one whose conduct is
masterful, reaching the apex of the mundane level and becoming transcendent.
B. Now we
will discuss the second main heading, the Noble Sangha, the family of the Noble
Ones, which may be joined by virtue of having developed one's inner qualities,
with no need to go through the formalities of the Vinaya. The Noble Sangha,
like the conventional Sangha, is composed of four groups:
1 Stream-enterers: those
who have reached the beginning stage of the flow to nibbana. At most they will
have to be reborn only seven more times. They have developed enough tranquility
and insight for the Path to converge in a single mental instant, enabling them
to gain true insight into all phenomena -- mundane and transcendent -- as they
really are. When they see in this way, they have cut three of the Fetters (sanyojana) that keep living beings under the spell
of the world. The Fetters they have cut absolutely are --
a Sakkaya-ditthi: the view that the body
-- together with its properties, aggregates, and sense media -- belongs to the
self. Stream-enterers, unlike ordinary run-of-the-mill people, don't hold that
these things are the self or belong to the self. They see them simply as common
property -- that we didn't bring them when we came and won't take them when we
go -- and that they arise simply through kamma.
b Vicikiccha: doubt and uncertainty about
the practices one is following. Stream-enterers have no such doubts, because
they have reached the quality attained by the Buddha.
c Silabbata-paramasa: attachment to
customs or traditions that are held to be good in this way or that.
Stream-enterers are not attached to any external practices dealing with actions
or manners.
These three Fetters, stream-enterers
have cut absolutely, once and for all. They have attained the noble quality of
having closed off completely the four states of deprivation. In other words,
they are destined never again to be born in hell, on the level of the angry
demons, the level of the hungry ghosts, or the level of common animals. This is
what it means to close off all four states of deprivation.
2 Once-returners: those
who have gained the second level of Awakening, who will attain nibbana after
being born once more in the world. Once-returners have cut three Fetters, like
stream-enterers, but have also reduced the amount of desire, anger, and
delusion in their hearts. (They know how to keep the mind within bounds.)
3. Non-returners: those
who have awakened to the third level and who will never again return to the
human world. After they die they will be born in the
Brahma worlds on the levels of the Pure Abodes, there to attain nibbana. They
have absolutely abandoned five of the Fetters --
a Sakkaya-ditthi.
b Vicikiccha.
c Silabbata-paramasa.
d Kamaraga: passion and delight caused by
the power of sensual desires and sensual objects.
e Patigha: irritation and displeasure
caused by the power of anger.
4 Arahants: those
who have awakened to the ultimate level of the four Noble Truths and have
reached the quality of deathlessness, free from all the fermentations of
defilement; whose ignorance, craving, attachments, and kamma
have ended. Arahants have abandoned their Fetters by means of the factors of
the highest of the noble paths. The Fetters they have abandoned are ten:
a Sakkaya-ditthi.
b Vicikiccha.
c Silabbata-paramasa.
d Kamaraga.
e Patigha.
f Ruparaga: passion for the sense of form
that can act as the object of rupa jhana.
g Aruparaga: passion for formless
phenomena, such as the feeling of pleasure that comes from seclusion.
h Mana: conceiving
or construing oneself to be like this or that.
i Uddhacca: restlessness
and distraction, being carried away with one's thoughts. The thoughts on this
level deal with the activity of discernment, which is something good, but they
go out of bounds.
j Avijja: ignorance, i.e., not recognizing
stress, its cause, its disbanding, and the path to its disbanding -- in short,
not being acquainted with the conditioned phenomena (sankhata dhamma) that exist within each of us; not
being acquainted with the unconditioned (asankhata
dhamma), which is a genuine property, existing naturally. This,
briefly, is what avijja means.
Another meaning for avijja is not being acquainted with the way we are -- e.g.,
not recognizing our concepts of the past and thus becoming immersed in them;
not recognizing our concepts of the future; not recognizing the present, which
is the important aspect of all physical and mental phenomena. Thus, delusion
with regard to all three time periods is called avijja:
counterfeit knowledge, falling short of the four genuine Truths.
These ten Fetters, Arahants -- both
men and women -- have cut absolutely, freeing themselves from every sort of
bond or domination, so that their hearts are brilliant and dazzling, like the
full moon in a cloudless sky. This is samici-patipanno --
one whose conduct is masterful -- on the transcendent level.
The four groups mentioned here are
termed the Ariya Sangha, the Noble Community, which
can be found only in Buddhism. Therefore, all Buddhists who daily pay homage to
the Sangha should make themselves aware of what the Sangha is, of how genuine
or counterfeit the members of the Sangha are. Otherwise, our respect will be
blind and misguided, ignorant of the true nature of the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Sangha. We should use our judgment and reason to be selective so that we can
help one another look after the state of the religion, bringing it into proper
line with the principles of the Buddha's teachings.
The Sangha can be compared to a tree:
Some members are like the heartwood, others are like the sapwood, others are
like the outer bark, and still others are like parasitic creepers. Another
popular analogy is to compare the Sangha to a jewel. Now, there are many kinds
of jewels, just as there are many parts to a tree: artificial gems, zircons,
rubies, amethysts, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. Just as all of these are
called jewels, and are all of differing value, so it is with the members of the
Sangha. Whoever is rich in discernment will obtain a valuable jewel as an
adornment. Whoever is poor in discernment will end up with nothing but
artificial gems or bits of gravel: Some people believe that all who wear the
yellow robe are alike. They 'make donations to the yellow robe,' or 'pay respect
to the yellow robe,' or 'make donations to the virtuous'.... Thus
I ask that all Buddhists make a point of learning where the gems of the
religion that we as a nation revere may be found.
A person who doesn't know what the
Sangha is, is like a child who doesn't know his family and relatives -- who
doesn't know who his father is, who his mother is, who his elder brothers and
sisters are. When this is the case, he has no one to rely on. If he tries to
rely on others, he can do so only as long as he has money in his pockets. As
soon as he runs out of money, he's in for trouble: His friends and companions
are sure to act as if they don't recognize him; and he can't turn to his family
and relatives because he doesn't know who they are. So
in the end he'll meet with nothing but suffering.
This is why we're taught that, as
long as we still have life, we shouldn't rest complacent. We should urgently
make the virtues of the Sangha our guardians -- because our friend, the body,
can be relied on only as long as it doesn't die. And when the time comes, who
will care for us aside from our guardians, the virtues of the Sangha?
We shouldn't waste our time
engrossed simply with the life of the body for, as far as I can see, there's
nothing to the life of the body but eating and then sleeping, sleeping and then
eating again. If we let ourselves get stuck simply on the level of sleeping and
eating, we're headed for trouble. This can be illustrated with a story:
Once in a village by the seaside,
there came a time of unbalance in the natural elements, and large numbers of
the livestock -- the water buffaloes -- died of the plague. The men of the
village, fearing that the disease would spread, took the buffalo carcasses and
threw them into the sea. As the carcasses floated away from shore, a flock of
crows came to feed on them for many days. Each day, when the crows had eaten
their fill, they would fly back to spend the night in the trees by the shore;
and then would fly out the following dawn to continue eating. As days passed,
and the carcasses floated further and further out to sea, some of the crows --
seeing the hardships in flying back to shore -- decided to spend the night
floating on the carcasses; others of the flock, though, didn't mind the
hardships and continued flying back to shore every evening.
Finally, when the carcasses had
floated so far out to sea that flying back and forth was no longer possible,
the flock decided to abandon that source of food and to search for a new source
of food on land. One of the crows, though, had stayed with the carcasses; when
he saw that his fellows were no longer coming to claim a share of the food, he
became overjoyed, thinking that the food he had would last him a long time. He
became so engrossed in his eating that he never thought of looking back to
shore. As the carcasses went floating further and further out, swarms of fish
came from below to devour them until there was nothing left to eat. Finally,
the remains of the carcasses sank deep into the sea; and at that point, the
crow decided that the time had come to fly back to shore. With this in mind, he
flew to the north, but didn't see land. He flew to the south, to the east and
west, but didn't see land. Finally, he ran out of strength and could fly no
further, and so lowered his wings and dropped into the sea, where he became
food for the fishes.
This is human life. If we let
ourselves become engrossed only with eating and sleeping and physical
pleasures, without searching for virtue -- i.e., if we don't practice the
virtues of the Sangha as we've been taught -- we're sure to reap the rewards --
suffering -- just like the crow who fell to his death in the sea. This story is
about us: The sea stands for the world, the flood of rebirth; the buffalo
carcasses stand for the body; the trees on the shore stand for the Dhamma, and
the crows stand for the heart -- i.e., sometimes we feel like practicing the
Dhamma and sometimes we don't.
The virtues of the Sangha are
subtle, deep, and hard to perceive. If we don't have knowledge of ourselves, we
won't be able to see them, just as a mute person doesn't know how to speak his
native tongue.
Here I would like to tell another
story to illustrate what it means not to know the virtues of the Sangha. Once
there was a mute person who made his living by playing a conch shell trumpet.
Now, the way he played the conch shell was to make it sound like human voices
or animal calls. When he had perfected his skill, he wandered about the cities
and country towns, playing his conch. One day he went to play in a village deep
in the countryside. As he was about to reach the village, he stopped to rest
under the shade of a tree and picked up his conch to practice for a moment.
Within minutes a swarm of people, hearing the sound of the conch, came bursting
from the village to see what it was. They came across the mute man sitting
under the tree and so asked him, 'What was that beautiful sound we heard a
moment ago?' The mute man pointed to the conch shell lying nearby. The people,
thinking that they had heard the cry of the conch, ran over to tap on it to
make it cry again, but it didn't make a sound. Some of them picked it up and
tried shaking it, but still no sound, so they put it back down. Others turned
it over to see exactly where its cry came from, but no matter what they did,
the sound of the conch wouldn't come out. So they ran
back to the mute person.
The mute person didn't know what to
say, but he could tell from their actions that they wanted to know what made
the sound of the conch come out in such a variety of calls, so he pointed to his
mouth. The villagers ran to take a look. They had him open his mouth and looked
up and down inside, but didn't see how it could be made to sound. So the mute man flickered his tongue for them to see. With
this, they realized that the sound came from the mute man's tongue; and so they tried flickering their own tongues, but no beautiful
sounds came out. So they ran back to the mute man, who
blew air out of his mouth, meaning that the sound came from the breath. They
tried blowing air from their own mouths, but still no beautiful sounds.
Finally, the mute man reached for the conch, put it to his lips -- and out came
the beautiful sounds: the sounds of people crying, people laughing, people
wailing and mourning, the sounds of birds, mice, and forest beasts.
So it is with us: If we don't know how to train ourselves so
as to attain the virtues of the Sangha, we won't know how beneficial to us the
Sangha can be. We'll become uncivilized savages, not knowing whether the Sangha
is good or bad, and we'll end up like the villagers who didn't know where the
sound of the conch came from.
This story doesn't refer to anything
distant: The mute man, producing various sounds from his conch shell, stands
for preaching monks. For example, sometimes they try to be correct, proper, and
principled in their preaching; sometimes they preach like animals, i.e., using
a song-like voice or cracking jokes that go beyond the bounds of the Dhamma and
Vinaya. In this way, they are like the man blowing the conch. As for the
villagers who came running wide-eyed to hear the sound of the conch, they stand
for Buddhist lay people who don't understand the virtues of the Sangha and thus
are destined not to find the Sangha, just as the villagers couldn't find the sound
of the conch. When this is the case, they will simply shell out money to hear
the sound of conch trumpets, without any thought of the practices taught by the
Buddha. Monks will be deluded into blowing conch shells for their living,
without any thought of the qualities of the Sangha; and so
our religion will degenerate day by day, becoming ultimately a theater or
playhouse for the world.
This has been an extended discussion
of the Triple Gem. If we were to put it briefly, there wouldn't be a great deal
to say. We've kept the discussion drawn-out in this way so as to show the
general usefulness of the Triple Gem for those who revere it. If you want to go
for refuge in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha in a way that will reach their
genuine benefits, then you should gather their main points into yourself, training
yourself so as to give rise to the virtues of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha in
your heart. This is where the value of the Triple Gem lies.
*
* *
Summary
The gist of our discussion of the
Triple Gem comes down simply to this:
A. 'Buddha' can
be divided into a number of levels. The 'Buddha' of his physical
representatives refers to Buddha images, stupas, and places worthy of
veneration such as his birthplace, the place of his Awakening, the place where
he delivered his first sermon, and the place where he entered total nibbana,
which at present lie within the boundaries of India and Nepal. All of these
things qualify on the physical level as symbols of the Buddha for those who
revere them, but they may be disqualified if the people who revere them lack
the necessary inner qualifications. Take Buddha images as an example: You
should understand Buddha images as having three characteristic types --
1. those
inhabited by angry demons;
2. those inhabited by divinities;
3. those that people of virtue have invested with the potency of
the mind -- these can be termed, 'inhabited by the Dhamma.'
In other words, Buddha images can be
beneficial or harmful depending on how they are used by those who revere them.
Even people who use them as charms in committing robbery, casting spells, or
performing black magic may get results because of the power of their
conviction. But if we can be selective and use these images in ways that are
right, the potency they contain will benefit us, bringing us blessings and
protecting us from danger. Thus, the symbols of the Buddha can function in
various ways. There is much more to this topic, but if we were to discuss it
here, it would draw things out even further. These images can either qualify or
be disqualified as symbols of the Buddha, depending on the people who revere
them, but the images in themselves are neutral.
The important point for people who
hope for true welfare, though, is to invest themselves with the qualities that serve
on the inner level as symbols of reverence for the Buddha. These qualities are
three --
1 Sati: wakefulness.
2 Pa��a: the intuitive discernment and cognitive skill that
come from concentrating the mind.
3 Vimutti: purity and release from mental
defilement: This is the essence of 'Buddha-ratanam,' the
gem of the Buddha.
B. Dhamma: Good
Dhamma is of three sorts --
1 Pariyatti: This refers to studying and
memorizing passages from the Canon, which qualifies on the physical level as a
symbol of the Dhamma taught by the Buddha. But this, too, can either qualify or
be disqualified as a symbol. Some people, for example, use passages from the
Dhamma in committing robbery or casting spells. For instance, they repeat the
chant of the virtues of the Dhamma or the phrase, 'Namo
buddhaya,' three times or seven times, and
then commit thievery or highway robbery, believing that they have made
themselves invincible. Or when casting spells, they repeat the phrase, 'Na-metta, mo-karuna, da-love me, I
won't go, you come, omasavaha' -- they say
that this makes a woman really fall for a man. This sort of thing
disqualifies the phrase, even though its original meaning may have
been something good.
But if we revere the Dhamma and make
use of it through the power of our conviction, memorizing passages of Pali for
the sake of what is good and pure, and then putting them into use, they will
give rise to merit. For example, if we repeat the phrase, 'Dhammam saranam gacchami (I go to the Dhamma for refuge),'
or 'Namo buddhaya (Homage
to the Buddha),' with heartfelt conviction, giving rise to a sense of joy, this
mental state can then serve to protect us from certain kinds of accidents and
harm. We may reap real benefits from the phrase we repeat. This is something
that people who have respect for the Dhamma should investigate carefully.
These passages, then, can qualify as
symbols of the Dhamma -- or be disqualified, if we don't know their true aims.
2 Patipatti: This refers to behaving
sincerely in line with the Buddha's teachings:
a Sila: putting our thoughts, words, and
deeds in order.
b Samadhi: keeping
the mind firmly intent in the four levels of jhana,
free from the mental Hindrances.
3 Pativedha: This refers to extinguishing
defilement completely, releasing the mind from all suffering and stress. This
qualifies as the essence of the Dhamma.
All three of the levels mentioned
here form the inner qualifications of those who truly revere and follow the
Dhamma.
C. Sangha: If
we translate this as a substantive, it refers to those who shave their heads
and wear the yellow robe as a sign of having been ordained. These people can
qualify on the external level as symbols of the Sangha or they may be disqualified.
To qualify, they have to meet three criteria:
1 Vatthu-sampatti: The individual to be
ordained as a monk has to possess the proper characteristics as stipulated in
the Vinaya.
2 Sangha-sampatti: The monks who gather to witness the
ordination constitute a legitimate quorum.
3 Sima-sampatti: The place in which the
ordination is held has had its boundaries properly defined.
When an individual ordains in line
with these criteria, he qualifies as a symbol of the Sangha. But viewed from
another angle, if the individual has met these criteria and becomes a monk but
doesn't behave in line with the Dhamma and Vinaya -- disobeying the training
rules established by the Buddha, committing major and minor offenses with no
sense of shame -- he becomes disqualified on the personal level, just as a
Buddha image that has been properly consecrated but is then put to improper
uses by evil or lowminded people is bound to lead to harm. A monk with no sense
of conscience or shame is like a Buddha image inhabited by an angry demon.
Normally, when an angry demon takes possession of a person, it reveals itself
by its behavior. For example, when some angry demons take possession, they like
to run around naked, harassing other people. If a person has no sense of
conscience or shame, it's as if he were possessed by an angry demon. In other
words, if he doesn't have any moral restraint, it's as if he lacked the
clothing needed to hide his nakedness. And when this is the case, he is
disqualified as a symbol of the Sangha.
A person who meets the three
external qualifications mentioned above has to behave in line with the inner
virtues of the Sangha --
1.a. Caga: relinquishing
external and internal enemies (worries and concerns).
b. Sila: keeping one's words and deeds in
proper order.
To have these two qualities is to
qualify as a human being (supatipanno).
2.a. Hiri: having
a sense of shame at the thought of doing evil; not daring to do evil in public
or private.
b. Ottappa: having a sense of dread at the
thought of the results of doing evil.
If a monk has these qualities
(termed 'deva-dhamma,' the principles of heavenly beings),
it's as if he were inhabited by a celestial being (uju-patipanno).
3 Samadhi: steadying
the mind so as to reach the first level of jhana and
then developing it up to the fourth level, making it radiant and free from the
mental Hindrances. If a monk does this, it's as if he were inhabited by a
Brahma, for he has the inner qualifications of a Brahma (�aya-patipanno).
4 Pa��a,
vijja, vimutti: gaining release from the mundane level, abandoning the
three Fetters beginning with self-identification, reaching the Dhamma of the
Buddha, attaining the state where we are guaranteed by the Buddha as being
upright, dependable, honest, and sincere toward the Dhamma and Vinaya; gaining
Awakening following his example, becoming a reliable member of the Sangha. Such
people are termed 'ariya sotapanna' --
Noble Ones who have reached the stream -- and deserve to be called 'visuddhi-deva,' divinities through purity, whose
virtues are higher than those of human beings, deities, Indra, or Brahma. Even
though such people are still subject to death and rebirth, they are not like
other human beings. The pure aspect of their heart will never again become
defiled. Thus they deserve to be called, in a partial
sense, divinities through purity (samici-patipanno).
All four of these qualities form the
inner qualifications of the Sangha.
Speaking in terms of these inner
qualifications, every person can become a member of the Sangha. But if we don't
develop these qualities within ourselves and then take refuge in the Buddha,
Dhamma, and Sangha only on the external level, how will we get the full
benefits? We're taught that if we can't depend on ourselves, there is no way we
can hope to depend on others. For example, if an evil person breaks the law,
commits robbery, and then asks the government to give him help, you can rest
assured that the only help the government will give him will be to build a
place for him to live in discomfort -- a jail. In the same way, if we don't
behave in line with the virtues of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha, how can we
go around taking refuge in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha? The Buddha taught:
Attahi
attano natho, ko hi natho paro siya.
'The self is its own refuge, for who else could be refuge?'
Thus we should develop the inner qualifications of the Buddha,
Dhamma, and Sangha within ourselves. Then we will belong to the company of the
Buddha's followers. If we belong to the religion as lay women, we are
called 'upasika.' If we belong as
lay men, we are called 'upasaka.' If
we observe the ten precepts and are endowed with the virtues of the Sangha, we are
termed 'samanera.' If we take a vow
to join the community of those who fully observe the 227 precepts, we are
termed 'bhikkhu.' When we join the company of the Buddha's
followers in this way, all people in general who practice and revere the
teachings will benefit -- just as when we meet the qualifications of a good
citizen as set out by the government: If we are trained and educated to be
good, we are bound to help the nation progress and prosper. But if we don't
view ourselves as part of the nation and don't think of making a living to
support ourselves, and instead simply go around looking for pleasure or for
help from others, the results are bound to be bad.
Therefore, we as Buddhists have to
study and practice before we can be Buddhists of virtue and value. We will then
reap rewards in the visible present. And even if we are no longer able to live
in this world, then when our bodies die and we head for another world, we have
a good bourn awaiting us, as in the verse from the Mahasamaya
Sutta:
Ye keci buddham saranam katase
Na te gamissanti apaya-bhumim.
Pahaya manusam deham
Deva-kayam paripuressantiti.
'Those who reach the refuge of the
Buddha (in their own hearts, with purity) will close off all four of the lower
realms (such as hell). When they leave this life they
are bound for a good bourn (heaven), there to fill the ranks of the gods.'
Buddham dhammam sangham
jivitam yava-nibbanam saranam gacchami.
'I go to the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Sangha as my life and refuge till reaching nibbana.'
*
* *
Glossary
Abhidhamma: The third of the three
collections forming the Pali Canon, composed of systematic treatises based on
lists of categories drawn from the Buddha's teachings.
Apaya: States of deprivation, i.e.,
the four lower realms of existence: rebirth in hell, as a hungry ghost, as an
angry demon, or as a common animal. In Buddhism, none of these states are
regarded as eternal conditions.
Ayatana: Sense media -- the six senses
(including the intellect as the sixth) and their respective objects.
Brahma: An inhabitant of the higher heavens of form and
formlessness, a position earned -- but not forever -- through the cultivation
of virtue and meditative absorption, along with the attitudes of limitless
love, compassion, appreciation, and equanimity.
Gotarabhu-�ana: Change
of lineage knowledge -- the glimpse of nibbana that changes one from an
ordinary, run-of-the-mill person to a Noble One.
Jhana: Absorption in a single object
or preoccupation. Rupa-jhana refers to absorption in
a physical sensation; arupa-jhana, to absorption in a
mental notion or state.
Kamma: Acts of intention that result
in states of being and birth.
Khandha: Aggregate. The five aggregates
are the component parts of sensory perception; physical and mental phenomena as
they are directly experienced: form (sense data), feeling, perception,
thought-formations, and consciousness.
Nibbana: Liberation; the unbinding of the mind from greed,
anger, and delusion; from sensations and mental acts. As this term is also used
to refer to the extinguishing of a fire, it carries the connotations of
stilling, cooling, and peace. (According to the physics taught at the time of
the Buddha, the property of fire exists in a latent state to a greater or
lesser degree in all objects. When activated, it seizes and sticks to its fuel.
When extinguished, it becomes unbound.)
Nivarana: Hindrance; one of five mental
qualities that hinder the mind from attaining concentration and discernment:
sensual desire, ill will, sloth & torpor, restlessness & anxiety, and
uncertainty.
Pali: The name of the most ancient recension of the Buddhist
scriptures now extant; and -- by extension -- of the language in which it was
composed.
Vinaya: The first of the three collections forming the Pali
Canon, dealing with the disciplinary rules of the monastic order. The Buddha's
own name for the religion he founded was, 'this Dhamma-Vinaya' -- this Doctrine
and Discipline.
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