Concept

1. Definition

What is ethics?

• Ethics is the set of good tendencies in our mind, tendencies that give rise to outward words and actions which help the people around us to be transformed, to feel at ease and to benefit.

So ethics is a goodness that lies within, but is judged by how it shows itself outwardly. Let us affirm once more that ethics is not the outward action or speech itself. Ethics only governs outward action and speech. It is the root of good words and deeds.

A mind full of ethics is always moved to treat everyone kindly and to bring everyone ease and benefit. If we do not see ourselves as bad, yet feel no urge to behave well towards others, we should know that our ethics are not yet deep.

The tendency towards living for others is regarded as ethical because it always makes us care for other people, even more than for ourselves. Because we are always attentive to others, we quickly notice their suffering, their pain, their hardship and their illness, and look for ways to help. Sometimes all we offer is a word, a glass of water or a pill; sometimes it may be a large sum of money… to help someone through a hard time.

A humble mind is regarded as ethical because that state of mind constantly moves us to respect everyone. Everyone in this world needs to be respected and to be regarded as having worth, so when we sincerely respect others we are also bringing them ease. But to respect others we must not see ourselves as better than they are; that is, we must see ourselves as small and lacking.

The tendency towards discretion is also regarded as ethical because it keeps us from boasting and sliding into useless conceit. When we are discreet and do not show off our talents, wealth, successes or merit, we also leave others room to have more worth, since they are not put in competition with our prominence.

We will analyse each of these ethical states of mind in depth in later lessons.

2. The urgency of the present state of the Buddha's Dharma

a. Modern science and technology

The world today has changed enormously compared with earlier centuries, above all compared with the Buddha's time, because of the progress of science and technology.

Science and technology have transformed the comforts of life and, with them, the way people live. For example, in the past, to speak with one another people had to travel a long way to meet. Because they met face to face, a culture of etiquette in communication arose. Nowadays people only need to pick up a phone to talk, which is very easy, and the etiquette of communication is gradually taken lightly.

Then wonderful machines and tools appeared, such as cars, televisions, computers, sewing machines, looms and printing presses… which have greatly improved human life. More and more refined goods keep appearing and draw people into buying and consuming. People keep changing cars and machines to get new ones that are higher in specification, more powerful, more beautiful… Even cloth and clothing have become so rich, varied and abundant that everyone buys more than they need.

The achievements of science and technology are so persuasive to the world that many people have developed a utilitarian mentality, valuing material things, wealth and physical science and technology more than the spiritual and ethical values of the sages since ancient times. They hold that spirituality and ethics are something mysterious, vague and impractical, which cannot make people comfortable and well off the way science and technology have done. So they drift away from spiritual values and lean towards the material. For this reason too, the world is losing its balance between material life and spiritual life, between the tendency to enjoy and the tendency towards ethics.

When spiritual and ethical values decline, people are slowly sinking into wrongdoing and suffering without knowing it. That is why young people today are quick to rebel and are arrogant and stubborn: they meet technology much earlier than their fathers' and grandfathers' generation did. In the past their fathers and grandfathers still had time to come into contact with a tradition that valued spiritual ethics. Now everything is changing in a direction that is worse for ethics.

Those who have left home are fortunate to live in an environment that values spiritual and ethical values very highly, very different from the complicated environment of young people outside. Every day the newspapers report on crimes involving drugs, robbery, gambling… and the names and faces involved are very young, often even minors.

Look at the excessive, almost crazed fervour with which people follow football, and you will understand how unbalanced the human mind is today.

Precisely because of this imbalance between spiritual and ethical life and material enjoyment, a disciple of the Buddha must be more conscious of the ideal of cultivating ethics, in order to rebuild a world full of love and ethics.

People living in this world need many things: money, love, status, family, children, comforts and so on… But among all of these, people most need ethics as their foundation, their core, their soul. Without ethics, people will wreck everything. For example, an engineer without ethics will produce a poor-quality structure; a lawyer with weak ethics will slip through loopholes in the law to defend the guilty; a doctor with weak ethics will prolong an illness to make money; an official with weak ethics will abuse their position and power to make the people suffer… So in any field and any profession, people always need ethics in order to carry out their responsibilities properly. A disciple of the Buddha is in an excellent position to contribute ethics to society, because ethics is an outstanding attribute of Buddhism. Disciples of the Buddha, especially those who have left home, must cultivate themselves wholeheartedly so as to contribute, and to contribute a great deal, to society's need for ethics, which is gravely lacking at present.

The second thing society needs is inner peace. People today live under great tension because they must wear themselves out struggling for a livelihood. Even entertainment makes people tense. Those who worry about earning a living are already suffering; those who play video games are just as tense because of the shooting and killing in them; the ecstasy-fuelled dance clubs where people scream and dance wildly, the football matches with deafening cheering all night… are all signs of a restless, tense world. If a few more terrorist bombings and attacks with killing appeared, how terrible the tension would become, there is no telling.

Precisely because people live in such tension, inner peace is a great need alongside the need for ethics.

Everyone knows that those who follow the Buddhist path seek the goal of awakening and liberation, but that is a personal goal, one that belongs to Buddhism internally. A sincere Buddhist greatly values the monastic community, thinking that monks and nuns are diligently walking the path of liberation and can guide them along it. But people who do not follow Buddhism are not interested in that ideal of liberation. The wider community is first of all concerned with what Buddhism has really contributed to people and to the world.

Buddhism can truly contribute a great deal in the two areas the world needs so much: ethics and inner peace.

b. The ethical condition of monks and nuns

Many people with no religious faith sometimes ask whether Buddhist monastics can bring any benefit to society, or whether they are merely parasites. We do not blame the doubts in their hearts, because they have in fact witnessed a few doubtful cases.

They raise the point that believers bring real money and real rice to offer to the temple, yet receive from the monastics only vague prayers and empty promises for after death. They need to see Buddhism make a clearer and more concrete contribution to life.

We promise the world, and promise again, that we, the disciples of the Buddha, will truly make a practical contribution to life by teaching ethics and inner peace. That is how Buddhism can establish its place in society. That is how everyone can see that the benefit Buddhism brings to life, though invisible, is of great value.

Let us reorient the road we are on: for those within Buddhism, the final ideal remains awakening and liberation; for the wider community, our ideal is to contribute ethics and inner peace.

But if disciples of the Buddha want to be capable of bringing everyone ethics and inner peace, we must practise and study a great deal. We must study the Buddha's words carefully, study some of the later treatises of the Patriarchs, and then diligently put them into practice to transform our own minds until they become noble and holy. Every thought that arises must be compared with the teaching to see whether it accords with it.

For example, the Buddha teaches us to be generous and tolerant. If we suddenly notice that our mind holds a thought of hatred, disparagement or contempt towards someone, we must recognise that we are wrong. We must correct it at once, repent, and immediately think of that person with love and affection.

Or again, the Buddha teaches us not to be greedy or attached. If we suddenly see that our mind craves worldly things, we must drop it at once, repent, and tell ourselves not to be so greedy any more.

Or, if monastic students at a Buddhist academy learn the method of contemplating compassion, then that very day, that very evening, they must put it into practice by radiating loving-kindness to all beings, not merely learn it in passing and leave it. We must study in order to practise; the awarding of a degree is a natural consequence that will come, not the main goal.

This quiet but laborious work of mending ourselves is known only to ourselves and the Buddha; no one else knows, to praise or encourage us. That is why only those with deep good roots and a very high degree of self-awareness can keep watch over themselves hour after hour, day after day, in this way.

After a long period of decline under French rule, dedicated senior monks boldly called for a revival of Buddhism around the beginning of the twentieth century. The venerable monks hurriedly opened schools and classes teaching the doctrine and the scriptures so that successors could quickly take up the work. Because of this urgent need, there was no time for the venerable monks to pass on the essentials of practice. From then until now it has become something of a tradition that Buddhist schools lack the side of practice and training almost entirely. Monastic students devote themselves only to studying doctrine and ancient texts. If they want greater virtue in their conduct, monks and nuns have to go and practise elsewhere; or, if they cannot find an environment for practice, they have to be monastics who study but do not practise. It is heartbreaking!

Without detailed guidance in practice, monks and nuns easily lack strength of practice, cannot withstand outside temptations, and sometimes behave like ordinary worldly people, then bring upon themselves the criticism of lay believers. So we hope that from now on Buddhist schools will have programmes that guide practice thoroughly. Monks and nuns must practise meditative concentration and be trained step by step in ethical deportment. The time given to that programme of practice must be equal to or greater than the time given to study. The very word for a monastic, "tu sĩ" (one who practises), reminds us how important practice is.

c. Division caused by believers

The tendency of society towards material enjoyment is also gradually creeping into the lives of those who have left home.

The first reason is an objective one. When society's material goods and facilities are plentiful, they inevitably seep from outside into the temple. Whether it wants to or not, the temple must have new machines and equipment for its daily activities.

The second reason is a subjective one. Sometimes monastics cannot restrain their fondness for luxurious, novel and refined goods.

Temples almost all live on their lay Buddhist believers. The more believers there are, the better off the temple is economically, and the more easily it can meet ever greater needs.

But instead of monastics having the duty to teach more new believers in keeping with Buddhism's vow to liberate beings, temples may fall into the mentality of seeking more believers merely for the temple's prosperity. If those new believers are people who did not know the Way and have come to know it, that is very good; but if they are already believers of another temple who are persuaded to become believers of one's own, then the seeds of division between temples have appeared.

Many lay people who come to a temple are shocked to hear one monk speak ill of another so naturally and so expertly. They lose faith in the monk who is being spoken ill of, of course, but they also begin to feel uneasy about the monk whose mouth is so practised at speaking ill. In the end the lay people lose more and more faith in the monks. All of it comes from a secret mentality inside: wanting believers not to go to that other temple but to come only to one's own. That is a vice within Buddhism.

Another vice is that lay people who come to a temple often see monastics treating each other without harmony or respect. They always revere the monks, and think that the monks must respect and love each other deeply. But sometimes they hear the monks addressing each other carelessly and treating each other offhandedly. They are very surprised.

Once we met a Dutchman who had practised meditation and kept a vegetarian diet for more than twenty years. He also trained in tai chi, following the approach of the Chinese monks that inner cultivation must be supported by training the body. While talking about meditative concentration, ethics and the law of cause and effect, he suddenly mentioned a very famous guru in India. Because he was famous, he was very rich. The man had visited him and, in passing, asked him why he did not share with the poor people around him. We should remember that India still has a great many poor people.

The guru replied that the poor are poor because of their karma, and that one should not interfere and go against the law of cause and effect. That answer made the man lose his interest in and esteem for the law of cause and effect.

In truth the law of cause and effect is not an excuse for us to turn our backs on the poor. On the contrary, it encourages us to care for and help everyone even more. If we do not care about helping others, then when we later fall into poverty no one will pay any attention to us, and there will be many other consequences too. We will examine them on another occasion.

We say this to remind one another that a practitioner should not accumulate wealth if they have abundant merit, but should know how to give and share. That too is a basic ethical practice.

d. The great need for teaching and guidance

At present the need for Buddhists to be taught and guided is very great, for two groups of people. One is the whole world that does not yet know Buddhism; the other is the lands and countries that were once homelands of Buddhism but now show signs of the Dharma declining.

To have firm ability in approaching and teaching the Buddhist public, those who have left home must cultivate themselves a great deal. By the principle of mutual permeation, mutual action and mutual influence, when monastics come close to lay people to teach them the doctrine, they naturally also become easily influenced in return by those people's worldly lives. If their strength of practice is not firm, monastics will bring many worldly troubles into their own minds. Therefore, more than ever, Buddhist monastics must make a great shift in practice, starting from the foundation of ethics and advancing step by step to higher meditative work.

A truth we must acknowledge is that the way monastics in Buddhism work and practise is not yet enough, and seems rather passive. Let us look at all the lands and countries that were once homelands of Buddhism, where Buddhism slowly disappeared once Islam set foot. India represents this situation. It is true that Islam used violence, killing monastics and smashing temples, but clearly we ourselves also lacked something, which is why we resigned ourselves to being overwhelmed so badly by Islam. Vietnam had the decisive Trần Thủ Độ, the wise and brave Trần Quốc Tuấn, and countless talented people with a strong martial foundation… who encouraged the Trần kings, who were gentle in their Zen studies, to resolve to resist the fierce Mongol invasion. And they won a glorious victory. Vietnam managed it, but many places could not, and Buddhism had to accept retreat.

In the time of King Ashoka most of India followed Buddhism; now only about three percent remain. Even that three percent is thanks to the efforts of some outstanding Buddhists such as Ambedkar… who campaigned for Buddhism's recent revival. Before that few Indians knew anything about Buddhism.

In recent times Indonesia was a Buddhist kingdom. When archaeologists happened to enter the deep forest, they discovered the largest Buddhist stupa in the world, called Bondogour (?)… So we know that Buddhism was once extremely flourishing there. But now all Indonesians are Muslim.

For a time Malaysia too was very prosperous in Buddhism, but once Islam arrived Buddhism gradually weakened. Now the Malaysian government tacitly regards Malaysia as an Islamic country. In general, wherever Islam arrives, Buddhism disappears.

Japan is the same: Buddhism was once its state religion. Japanese works on Zen are famous throughout the world. Yet today Buddhism in Japan is very weak. Its extremely grand temples are merely places to visit, and there is almost no Dharma teaching. Few young Japanese today know anything about Buddhism. They are imitating the utilitarian, pleasure-seeking way of life of the West, although moral character education in Japanese schools is better than in the West. The Japanese then look for compensation for their spiritual lives by joining dangerous sects. Recently, for example, we read in the press about the Aum Shinrikyo sect, which borrowed the prestige and doctrine of Buddhism and then turned to terrorism, releasing poison gas in the subway and killing many people.

It is precisely because Buddhist monastics did nothing that other evil sects had the chance to rise. We must first take the blame upon ourselves.

Korea is the same, like Japan, chasing after the utilitarian, pleasure-seeking way of life of the West and paying little attention to Buddhism. In North Korea there is almost no Buddhism left, because of the government's policy of maximum control.

At the Buddhist conference in Tokyo in 1997, Buddhist leaders from everywhere raised the alarm about the weakening of Buddhism in the world. So we must understand that it is the disciples of the Buddha themselves, lay and ordained alike, who have fallen short, who have been passive, not energetic, not resolute… and that is why Buddhism is in this state.

We are often caught wavering between two attitudes: one, wanting to do something beneficial for beings; two, wanting to practise quickly for liberation.

As for wanting to benefit beings, we have no clear course or direction; we have no wide cooperation across the world. Every day we do make the vow to liberate beings, and we stop right there. Few think further about what practical and effective thing to do for that daily vow.

As for the tendency to advance in practice for liberation, it is regarded as a beautiful image in Buddhism. Many go into deep caves and remote mountains, or shut the door of their hut and meet no one, in order to devote themselves to practice. But beware! In truth only those whose minds are already completely altruistic deserve to enter retreat for dedicated practice. If the mind is not yet completely altruistic, not yet trained in sacrifice and service, then a retreat without contact with others becomes the very opportunity for the selfish mind to grow more fiercely than before. This is a strange paradox, but a real one.

The more we stay alone in a quiet retreat hut, the more diligently we recite the Buddha's name or sit in meditation, the more the selfish mind is reinforced. That is why we meet many people who seem more arrogant and short-tempered after a retreat. If we do not yet have a highly altruistic mind, then the more diligent we are the further we move from liberation, because then we only care about ourselves. This is a paradox that is very hard to overcome.

The Buddhism of this twenty-first century must be the Buddhism of people who are deeply committed to the ideal of liberation and at the same time wholehearted in the work of liberating beings. A disciple of the Buddha must love everyone completely, from the brothers and sisters around us to everyone on Earth, especially those who do not yet know the Dharma. Only people with such a heart deserve to enter a quiet retreat hut.

The work ahead is very great, and requires disciples of the Buddha to be much more active, and also to have much firmer strength of practice, so that they can bring the Dharma to people without being brought back into worldly contamination by them.

One sign of passivity among disciples of the Buddha until now is that lay people do not take care to bring their families to Buddhism.

Many Buddhist families have parents who follow the Way but children who do not, elder siblings who follow it but younger ones who do not, a wife who follows it but a husband who does not… We know Buddhism and then leave the people around us alone, whether they know it or not. Parents go to the temple to study the Way and leave their children to be taught at school or by friends, good or bad, without caring.

The fault of lay people who do not know how to bring their families to Buddhism is clearly the fault of the monastics. It is precisely because monastics do not think about it, do not remind Buddhists of it, and do not guide them in how to do it, that Buddhism is entirely lacking in the merit of bringing families to the Dharma. Now is the time to correct that shortcoming.

Parents must be reminded that every morning they must require their children to come and bow to the Buddha and recite the morning prayer for children, to imprint good qualities on the children from their earliest years.

Why must it be required?

Because children are small and do not know what is right and what is wrong, what should be done and what should not. Even going to school is the same: if parents did not require it, no child would be willing to go. So the study of ethics and the Dharma is no less important for a child's life, character and mind; why should we not require it?

The time has come when, alongside self-motivation, Buddhism must add an element of compulsion to practice and study in some cases.

For Buddhism to be strong, we must of course develop the advantage of self-motivation that Buddhism already has, but we must also draw on the element of compulsion. To do this, however, monks and nuns must be much stronger, more energetic and more resolute. It is the strength of the monks and nuns that passes to the Buddhists, and Buddhists will then have enough strength to bring their families to the Dharma. If monks and nuns are indifferent, Buddhists will certainly neglect their responsibility too. A weak Buddhism is first of all the fault of monks and nuns. So monks and nuns today must be active, affirming the ideal of liberation while shining with the ideal of liberating beings.

Let us look at other religions: a child is hardly born before the church takes the baby to be baptised as a believer, even though the baby knows nothing at all. When the child grows up and starts a family, the ceremony must be held in the church, which guarantees that the spouse will also follow the religion. If they marry an outsider and bring that person in, so much the greater merit before God. Many Buddhist families carelessly let their children become Christian through marriage in this way, not realising they have fallen right into the strategy of the other religion. Seeing their children so much in love, they go along with it, without asking for any fairer terms for the family's religious tradition. This too is a lack of vigilance, passivity and sometimes weakness in Buddhism.

It is this same weakness that made Buddhism, wherever Islam set foot, gather up its people and evacuate. Now everything must be changed. The monks and nuns must hold a blessing ceremony for the children of Buddhists when they are born; a ceremony to open the mind when a child reaches school age; a refuge ceremony when the child has reached understanding; a wedding ceremony when they marry; and a funeral and a ceremony of prayer for the deceased when the person passes away. In general the temple must "look after" Buddhists and their families from birth until death. The monks and nuns must work harder and take more trouble in this way. Buddhists must bind their whole lives to the temple in this way.

And precisely because monks and nuns must take more responsibility for Buddhists, they must be closer to them and so are also much more easily secularised. To do this work without being secularised, monks and nuns must cultivate themselves a great deal.

e. Four great reasons for cultivating ethics.

First, because the world today is losing its balance between material life and spiritual life, between enjoyment and ethics, the responsibility of the disciple of the Buddha is to cultivate deep and thorough ethics in order to restore balance to all things for this age.

Second, to rebuild the trust of Buddhists. Monks and nuns are the support of Buddhists. But what do Buddhists rely on monks and nuns for, if not ethics? We do not know whether monks and nuns have attained the Way, but the first requirement is that they have ethics. Even if they have not attained any lofty realisation, if monks and nuns have ethics, that helps Buddhists feel at ease in taking refuge in them. A few monks and nuns regard ethics as less important than other lofty spiritual practices, and so are unwilling to cultivate deep ethics, and in the end leave Buddhists disappointed.

How sad for Buddhists if they happen to witness those who have left home at odds with one another. A monastic cannot hide their faults for ever, because after long contact people will discover them. The only way is to try to cultivate genuine ethics oneself.

Third, to rebuild the inner strength to keep our minds from being polluted when we are close to Buddhists in teaching them. Here, besides deep ethics, monks and nuns also need experience in meditative contemplation. Especially in the time ahead, monks and nuns will have a great deal of work to do.

Fourth, to rebuild the foundation of practice for ourselves. Ethics is an important foundation for the whole process of practice, for precepts, concentration and wisdom alike. And ethics is also the beautiful expression that remains later, once we have brought our practice to fulfilment.

3. Comparison with the precepts

a. At a shallow level

At a shallow level, ethics is higher than the precepts. Why?

Because ethics is the goodness in the mind, whereas the precepts are only prohibitions on the outside. The precepts forbid wrongs of action and speech, such as the prohibitions on killing, stealing, lying and so on… while ethics keeps our mind free from cruelty, greed, deceit…

There are cases in which the outward action breaks a precept but the inner mind is ethical. A junior monk took his senior brother's nice sandals, without asking permission, to give to a poor person, because he knew that his senior brother had a very good heart. The act of taking without asking violates the precepts, but the motive was to help the poor, and he was also sure that his senior brother would be glad, so it is regarded as consistent with ethics.

There is a famous story in "Sand and Pebbles" (Góp nhặt cát đá): two monks, senior and junior, were walking along a muddy road. Probably their clothes were ragged too, so they simply waded through the mud as they were. At one point they suddenly saw a girl in an aristocratic-looking kimono standing helplessly by the road, not daring to cross for fear of soiling her clothes. There was no one else on the road who could help her. The junior monk stepped up and said:

• Little girl, let me help you.

Then he lifted the girl up, carried her to the other side of the road, put her down, and went on walking with his senior brother. The senior brother put on a stony face and sulked, and would not speak. Whatever the junior asked, he would not answer. After quite a long while, nearly back at the temple, the senior brother finally reproached him:

• We are monks and are not permitted to touch women. Why did you do that?

• Ha ha, I put her down back there, and you are still carrying her all the way here!

From this story we see that the junior monk was quite free: although he touched a woman, his mind did not cling. Judged by the precepts, he broke one, but judged by ethics there is no problem, since it was an altruistic act of helping someone with an unattached mind. We still admire the junior monk whenever we hear the story. (However much we admire him, monastics should not imitate him by going about the roads looking for women to carry across.)

b. At a deep level, the precepts are higher than ethics. Why?

Because among the precepts there is one important precept, the precept against sexual conduct. In the language of ethics it is also called sexual desire. Sexual desire is a natural human instinct, and whatever is instinct is very strong. Keeping the precept against sexual conduct means going against one's own instinct. Sexual desire is love with a tendency to sexual relations with the opposite sex — the definition now has to change, to extend to attachments between people of the same sex.

Sexual desire is a natural instinct, which is why, generation after generation, people keep marrying and having children. Parents who see that their child has grown up but has no sweetheart begin to worry, afraid the child will be left unmarried.

Even our Buddha had to appear to have a family first and only then leave home to practise. Thanks to that, later generations feel less guilt about sexual desire and can advance in practice for liberation. We also see many lay people who live ordinary married lives yet are very gentle and ethical. They do nothing contrary to morality, they simply love their spouses and children. That is the case of having ethics yet not overcoming sexual desire.

So we say that, on the matter of sexual desire, the precepts are higher than ethics, because overcoming the instinct of sexual desire is a great ability and very hard to do.

If a monastic has not broken a precept, they should not think they have overcome the instinct of sexual desire. It is merely because they still have the merit to be a monastic, and are kept in a good situation. If at some point they fell into a permissive environment, they would see their own weakness. Only if their heart stayed firm then could it be said that they had passed the test once. Once only, with no guarantee for the second and third time…

So what shall we use to keep the precept against sexual desire?

Of course, will. We use will to keep our mind from liking, from being enmeshed, from being entangled. But to have such an iron will requires us to have very great merit. Will that arises from merit is very durable, seems light, and does not increase arrogance. Whereas anyone who does not know this and simply tries hard to stir up strong will, arrogance and irritability will arise. It is very dangerous, because will is a double-edged knife. Will and ego are twin brothers: when one arises the other arises with it.

At a higher stage, monastics use the power of meditative concentration to keep the mind pure. However, the results of meditative concentration too originate from other deep merit. Many people think that if we simply maintain pure mindfulness, the mind will be free and unstained, and will naturally not be stained by sexual desire. They are right, but not certain. When we use mindfulness to keep the mind unstained, we expend little effort, as though we did not need will at all. Over time will grows blunt without our noticing. When we meet a heavy trial we have no will left to use, which is very dangerous. So we must still use determination to keep the precepts, use will to keep the precepts, and since that will is formed from merit, it will be very light and serene.

Merit is very important, and practitioners must know how to create it throughout their lives. Thanks to merit, when we are diligent we still look, from the outside, as light as cloud or wind, even though inside we are fiercely determined. Anyone without enough merit who strains will be heavy and irritable, and others will find it unpleasant to come near. We will say more in later lessons.

Until now we have heard of the three trainings free of outflows: precepts, concentration and wisdom. We have the impression that precepts are at a low stage. But in fact the precepts are already at a fairly high stage.

To keep the precepts we must have will; to have will we must have merit; to have merit we must have ethics.

With ethics we come to love doing meritorious deeds; with merit we can bring forth will naturally; with will we can keep the precepts. So the precepts remain at a high stage in the process of practice.

4. Ethics and its relation to meditative concentration

a. The Buddha is the radiant symbol of meditative concentration.

The Buddha attained the Way through meditative concentration. After attaining the Way, the Buddha also sat in meditation regularly throughout his life. What matters is that the Buddha taught all his disciples to be diligent in meditative concentration too. Now we also venerate the Buddha in the full lotus posture of meditative concentration.

When Buddhism is mentioned, the whole world understands at once that meditative concentration is meant. Western Buddhists who study Buddhism are usually interested in the depth of meditation of monks and nuns, and ask little about doctrine, since they already have an enormous library of Buddhist scriptures to study whenever they like.

Meditative concentration is the general term for all methods of practice that gather the mind into purity. From this purity, the practitioner aims at the goal of no-self, awakening and liberation. The two conditions for a method to count as meditative concentration in Buddhism are:

• Gathering the mind into purity
• The goal of no-self, awakening and liberation.

So methods such as reciting the Buddha's name, reciting mantras, contemplating the breath, contemplating prajna… all involve attention to gathering the mind into purity. That meets the first requirement. If the practitioner then goes on to fix their stance towards the goal of no-self, awakening and liberation, that method too can be regarded as meditative concentration, without needing to distinguish further.

A disciple of the Buddha, especially one who has left home, must be diligent in sitting meditation and practising concentration. Every day we should sit in the full lotus posture and gather the mind several times. Twenty or thirty years later, looking back on our life of practice, we will see its value, because it was a whole stretch of time in which we struggled hard against delusive thoughts and afflictions for real, rather than practising at leisure and letting the days go by. Each time we cross our legs on the cushion and sit to gather the mind, that is a moment in which we are truly worth something as disciples of the Buddha. We do not know whether we have succeeded in gathering the mind, but the quiet, laborious struggle with ourselves is a merit worthy of praise.

There is a story: "Once the Buddha went to see a bhikkhu who practised very diligently. The bhikkhu bowed and asked the Buddha:

• Venerable World-Honoured One, practising like this, how long until I attain the Way?

• You will attain the Way three lifetimes from now, the Buddha replied.

Hearing this, the bhikkhu wept aloud, feeling sorry for himself that after being so diligent he would still need three more lifetimes to attain the Way. Going further, the Buddha met another bhikkhu who asked how long until he attained the Way. The Buddha pointed at a tamarind tree by the road and said:

• Do you see that tamarind tree?

• Venerable World-Honoured One, I see it.

• Do you see the leaves of that tamarind tree?

• You will attain the Way after as many lifetimes as there are leaves on that tamarind tree.

Hearing this, that bhikkhu was overjoyed, bowed and thanked the Buddha. At once the devas scattered flowers in offering to him."

This bhikkhu received the devas' flower offerings because he had gone beyond the idea of time. Merely knowing that he would attain the Way meant that in the present he was practising on the right path. He only feared being wrong, not a long and hard road. That frame of mind is truly worthy of our respectful bow.

b. Meditative concentration and ethics support each other

Ethics is the goodness in the mind that gives rise to countless outward actions and words which bring everyone around us ease, benefit and transformation.

When the people around us benefit, we gain merit. Merit arises when we bring benefit to others; that is the basic definition. If we are very good but have not yet done anything beneficial for anyone, we still have no merit. That is the principle.

Having merit does not necessarily mean having virtue; having virtue does not necessarily mean having merit. For example, a local official wants to build a bridge for the people, only because he wants to earn credit with his superiors and does not care about the people at all. Since he aims only at personal gain, he cannot be said to have virtue. But his work clearly benefits the people, so he will certainly have merit.

Conversely, some people are gentle but passive and do nothing to help anyone, so although they have virtue they have no merit.

Or take Buddhists who go to the temple, offer a few flowers and fruits, put a little money in the merit box, then kneel and whisper prayers for all sorts of things: that their family be rich, that their children pass exams though they are lazy about their lessons, that their own face be the most beautiful in the neighbourhood, and so on… Such prayers contain no ethical element. That is why we see many people who go to the temple for a long time without having ethics: prayers like these only increase selfishness. When the selfish mind increases, that person naturally becomes more short-tempered, more greedy, more quarrelsome. And it makes other people doubt that going to the temple is good.

So in future Buddhists coming to the temple should be guided again in how to pray so as to grow ethics and an altruistic mind….

Because we have ethics we have merit; because we have merit we can gather the mind in meditative concentration easily. Merit that is produced from ethics is called công đức ("meritorious virtue"), since it involves both meritorious work and ethics. Why does merit support meditative concentration? Everyone who practises meditation fears the state of lost mindfulness, of losing right mindfulness, of being led by delusive thoughts from one matter to another. At times the mind seems bright and clear, seeing delusive thoughts plainly and not deceived by them; at other times the mind is murky and obscured by delusive thoughts. What makes the mind bright, and what makes it clouded? It is karma, quietly governing. If the practitioner has abundant merit, the mind is naturally often easily alert; if the practitioner has little merit, the mind naturally often forgets and runs after delusive thoughts.

Ethics also directly affects the power of alertness, without needing merit as an intermediary. If the mind is very good, it is naturally calm, because ethics always belongs to the "side" of stillness. If the mind holds many unwholesome thoughts, it is naturally agitated, because the unwholesome belongs to the "side" of agitation.

By this standard we can also judge that someone who appears warm and kind, but is too fussy and bustling, may not be truly good, since fussiness belongs to the unwholesome side.

Conversely, meditative concentration also supports ethics. A calm mind helps us see our own mistakes more easily. It is like a classroom where everyone is sitting: if someone naturally stands up, that person is the first to be noticed. Likewise, in a calm inner mind, if an unwholesome thought naturally arises, wisdom easily sees it at once. For example, when we see someone's brand-new car that is so beautiful, our mind suddenly stirs with the wish to have one like it. But because our mind is used to being calm, we immediately discover that it is a thought of greed. Knowing it is greed, we stop, no longer "want" it, and let go.

When the power of concentration is deep, even very deep unwholesome tendencies continue to be discovered by wisdom and all dissolved. The value of meditation lies precisely in eliminating the unwholesome tendencies latent in the hidden depths of the mind, to form an outstanding ethical character. It is pointless for someone to claim to have attained meditative concentration while their ethics have not improved at all. Ethics must be the expression of meditative concentration. Ethics and meditation are alike in that both look into the mind and observe the mind.

The difference between ethics and meditation is this:

        Ethics looks into the mind to judge right or wrong, wholesome or unwholesome.

        Meditation looks into the mind to judge still or moving, peaceful or disturbed.

Judging our own faults for ourselves is not easy at all. One must be very sincere, courageous and wise to admit one's own fault. Most people quietly defend themselves. Few dare to take the blame. But someone who truly has the ideal of practice must criticise themselves first and not wait for anyone else to do so. When outsiders criticise us, it is already too late. We must criticise ourselves first.

We must search for our faults strictly for twenty or thirty years like this before we have temporarily fewer faults, can temporarily be a teacher to others, and can admonish others. If we have not yet seen our own faults and keep blaming others, our wrongdoing will grow heavier and heavier. Whoever often sees their own faults will be loved by the saints and deities. Whoever often sees others' faults will be loved by demons.

When the mind has become purely wholesome, we will naturally shift over to the work of meditation without noticing when. Then we will only observe whether the mind is moving or still. And so delusive thoughts will gradually die away and we will enter concentration.

"A lay person asked:

• Why is it that I keep practising and my mind is still not pure?

The monk replied:

• Purify your thoughts until they are purely wholesome, and concentration will be right beside you."

Though this path sounds simple, it is very fundamental and firm.

c. The tree of Buddhism

Practice in Buddhism is like a tree, with a taproot, lateral roots, a big trunk, many branches, countless leaves, flowers, and finally fruit.

The taproot represents the most fundamental quality of mind and conduct, which is reverence for the Buddha. The consequence of reverence for the Buddha is that a strong ideal of practising for liberation arises in our mind. The more we revere the Buddha, the stronger the ideal of practice.

The lateral roots represent ethical qualities of mind and conduct. This is precisely the content of this course. We will develop them one by one later.

The trunk represents the merit we accumulate through meritorious work that benefits everyone. The bigger the trunk, the healthier the tree. The more merit, the firmer the life of practice.

The many branches represent the many methods of practice. Buddhism has many methods of practice. Whichever branch we climb, we are within the tree of Buddhism. We only need to fear climbing across onto the branch of another tree and so practising an outside path. Pure Land, Zen, Esoteric, the Tiantai teaching and contemplation, Huayan, the Lotus, the Shurangama and so on are all Buddhism, as long as we have reverence for the Buddha, ethical qualities of mind and conduct, and merit.

The countless leaves represent the countless refined deportments and subtle conducts that radiate outwards and become the style of those who practise Buddhism. Whichever branch they grow from, the leaves are exactly alike. Whichever method of practice we follow, the style of deportment is always the same. People who practise Buddhism correctly all share a similar style: composed, unhurried, gentle, cheerful, sincere, simple… If the style is not alike, beware that we may be practising contrary to what the Buddha taught.

The flowers represent the power of concentration achieved. In the end a disciple of the Buddha must be able to gather the mind into concentration, because that is the main road of Buddhism. A mind that is concentrated is the result of much conduct beforehand, of many days and months of hard work in sitting meditation. But we must arrive here. It cannot be otherwise.

The fruit represents the wisdom realised. This wisdom is not the ordinary reasoning and creative understanding of human beings. It is the extraordinary, all-encompassing responsiveness of the saints. This wisdom protects a saint for ever from error and defilement, and is the ability to penetrate everything in the Dharma realm.

Through this image of the tree of Buddhism, we see that the division between methods of practice in Buddhism is only a misunderstanding that splits Buddhism apart. The branches may be separate, but the base is shared, the roots are shared, the trunk is shared, the leaves are alike, the flowers are alike, the fruit is alike. The methods may be separate, but the ideal is shared, ethics is shared, merit is shared, the style is alike, concentration is alike, wisdom is alike. So we are still Buddhism together, like brothers of one family.

We only need to fear that when we look back we differ from one another in ideal and in style, in which case beware that we do not share one Buddhism.