Forbearance

1. DEFINITION

Forbearance (nhẫn) is to endure, to bear the lesser share and the loss oneself. In Vietnamese the word nhịn has the same meaning as the Chinese nhẫn. We can regard the word nhẫn we use today as having its origin in Chinese and as having been Vietnamised. Nhục is to be lowly, shameful. So nhẫn nhục is to bear what is lowly, humiliating and shameful.

In what cases must we endure, and when is that endurance counted as forbearance?

We usually practise forbearance when we are insulted by someone our equal or below us.

For example, we feel insulted when someone younger than us is rude to us. But when insulted, we still calmly endure it and make no reaction to the insult. In that case we have practised forbearance. Or someone of our own standing speaks harshly to us or tries to overbear us, and at that moment we do not react and bear the loss ourselves; that too is forbearance.

In the second case, we are the junior, pressed down by our elders, stripped of all our entitlements and made to bear toil and hardship for others. That endurance is called forbearance.

In addition, we must also endure and bear when we fall into hard circumstances. For example, when we meet with want and hunger, we do not become pessimistic or collapse, but endure in order to come through. That strength of endurance is also counted as forbearance.

Here we need to distinguish forbearance from other mental states. If someone insults us and we cannot keep calm, we fall into anger (a hot temper). Forbearance is not the opposite of a hot temper. A hot temper is losing one's calm, giving strong reactions. Forbearance, by contrast, is enduring an insult without reacting. A person who rises above anger keeps composure and does not react. But that composure is not necessarily forbearance, because behind a calm appearance there are often many different states of mind.

First, there is malicious cunning. We know that a crafty person always appears calm and does not react to other people's insults. But in his heart he nurses resentment and a wish for revenge. This is a very dangerous case.

In some cases a person is bullied and insulted but does not react. Although outwardly they seem calm, in truth they carry fear inside. That is not forbearance but weakness.

So forbearance differs from those states of mind. Forbearance is enduring everything with a forgiving mind, neither weak nor nursing anger and hatred in the heart. So when we meet someone who is outwardly calm, we must examine the inner mind in order to judge. We need to distinguish clearly which is forbearance, which is craftiness and which is weakness and feebleness.

A practitioner must know how to forbear and endure. In the great assembly small clashes sometimes occur, and each person must forbear without nursing resentment in the heart. It is the same in life: it is not always smooth going when we step out to do the work of the Dharma. Often we have to face awkward adversity. Someone with a different viewpoint tries every way to attack, criticise and obstruct our work. At times we may even be slandered or have bad things invented about us. But even if wronged, we must endure at that moment. Doing this is not easy.

So if we do not equip ourselves with great strength of forbearance, we will not rise above difficulties and will court failure. From now on, each of us must practise and train our endurance to deal with the difficulties and adversities of life.

In the past, those who left home had to endure great difficulty and want. They lacked food, clothing and the daily necessities. When they could not get rice by begging, the monks had to eat wild vegetables and dig the ground themselves to plant sweet potatoes, which they prepared and stored for times of hunger. Not only that, they were also tormented by the cold and could not sleep at night. When they sat in meditation they had to wrap a novice's robe around themselves to bear it. That is enduring because of hard circumstances.

Later, the lives of practitioners became less difficult because society advanced more and more. However, the difficulty we may meet is opposition or ill feeling from others. We must prepare a mind to receive it. First of all, we must now practise enduring the things that go against our wishes in our practising life. When a fellow monastic speaks harshly to us or bullies us, we should thank them, because they are the very ones who have created the best conditions for us to practise forbearance.

We must see that the suffering and difficulty in life are truly precious. If we lived a quiet, comfortable life, we would lose all will and energy and would have no chance to train our endurance. So forbearance is a very important practice for increasing the strength of path of a practitioner. That is why in the Buddha's practising life Devadatta was always following and making trouble. The Buddha was troubled for countless lifetimes. Even after becoming a Buddha, he did not escape that trouble. This is because in all practice, to gain strength of path and virtue on the Path, forbearance and diligence play a very important role. To have the practice of forbearance, we greatly need adversity to train with. Mentioning this, we recall the line of verse by a monk:

Without suffering, what would we have as our material Without sorrow, how would we know the story of human beings

Indeed, without suffering we would have no conditions to train ourselves. Thinking of the life of soldiers in the army, we will better understand the value of hardship and difficulty. If they did not endure days of gruelling training, soaked by rain and burnt by sun, if they did not accept heavy punishments, how could they face sacrifice and hardship and resolve to fight the enemy to the death?

It is said that military academies and officer-training schools around the world, and in Vietnam, have very strict discipline. During training, cadets must go through a week called the week of humiliation training. When this week begins, family and relatives do not dare visit, because the cadets are subjected to every kind of ordeal and cannot refuse anything, including the most humiliating. They train people's endurance and forbearance to that degree.

It is the same in the practising environment. If training is not strict and has no method, then when monks and nuns graduate they will have no talent, no ethics and no mettle. Without mettle, we will be afraid and timid and will retreat when we fall into suffering. Then no one will dare to throw themselves into remote regions to do the work of the Path and guide beings.

Understanding this, we will not show displeasure or resentment every time a fellow monastic insults us. If our elders press us down, we will even be glad, regarding it as conditions that test our forbearance. There are not a few cases of affliction and tears, but let us see them as opportunities to practise. Let us keep in mind that having endured like this, when we go out to do the work of the Dharma, we will overcome whatever difficulty we meet. Just remember one thing: we endure, but not out of fear, and not out of resentment nursing hatred inside, but with a forgiving mind, a mind of letting go, without affliction. That is precisely the mind of forbearance in Buddhism.

2. FORBEARANCE IS AN ACHIEVEMENT OF THE STRENGTH OF PATH

A practitioner usually has the virtue of forbearance. We distinguish two kinds of forbearance: forbearance through the power of meditative concentration, through the result of meditative concentration, and forbearance through right thinking.

a. The power of meditative concentration:

We have heard the story of Master Hakuin. He is a representative example of the practice of forbearance. Hakuin belonged to the Rinzai lineage in Japan. He worked on a koan. One day, for some reason, his teacher struck him and he fell from the steps. Because the temple stood on a mountain slope, he fell a very long way and lost consciousness. When he came to, he had awakened to the Path. He went to present it to his teacher and was approved. After that he went back to the countryside and herded cattle for hire. What this was for is not clear; perhaps he wanted to train or nurture something. While living in the village, he also ate vegetarian food, chanted sutras and bowed to the Buddha, and showed himself gentle, so everyone called him the monk, and everyone loved and respected him.

He had built a hut and herded cattle for hire for some time when something happened in the village. An unmarried girl suddenly found her belly growing bigger every day. When her parents questioned her, at first she evaded the question; then, feeling it was not going well, she put the blame on the monk. Perhaps she thought that would cause the least trouble. Hearing this, her parents came and cursed and abused him harshly. He only asked, "Is that so?" and fell silent. From then on, the villagers thought nothing of him. The most important value of a practitioner is pure conduct. Having committed such a grave offence, what value did he have left? When the baby was born, they brought it to him to raise. He accepted the baby but did not know how to raise it. Every day he had to carry the baby around to ask the neighbours for milk. After a few years went by, the girl felt tormented and confessed that the baby's father was not that poor monk but a young man who sold fish at the market. Knowing the truth, the girl's parents came to apologise to him. This time too he said only, "Is that so?" and gave the child back to its mother, as if nothing had happened.

That is a wonderful example of forbearance. He endured slander, humiliation, loss of face and loss of honour peacefully, with no resentment, hatred or anger. It is truly a representative and fitting example of forbearance.

In the lesson on humility, we discussed the matter of honour for a practitioner. A practitioner does not value honour, because to still raise the question of honour means still clinging to the self. But that does not mean we live carelessly and without restraint. Though we do not value honour, we still live in a very decent and serious way. We live like this because we want to keep people's faith in the Dharma. Seeing our proper and serious practice, people will believe the path of the Dharma is genuine. On the other hand, a serious and ethical way of life will soon lead us to liberation and awakening. We should not think we live decently and properly so as to be praised and respected by people. Understanding it that way, we will avoid the mistake of coming, at some moment, to treat honour and face as important.

Returning to Master Hakuin, we see that he practised very rightly: he did not value honour or face, and so he forbore in an extraordinary way. Meanwhile, he still lived very decently and seriously. That is the right attitude of a practitioner of Buddhism. So in life, when at times we are criticised and spoken ill of, we too do not react, do not retaliate, do not set the record straight, do not justify ourselves, have no resentment in our hearts, and go on living a very decent life of good ethics. A person who lives like this is a person of the highest forbearance.

b. Seen from outside, forbearance may look like weakness, but inside it is the strength of the inner mind.

A person with a weak, easily agitated mind cannot be called forbearing. Forbearance is having a strength that keeps our mind from being agitated, shaken or bewildered. That is, in the face of other people's slander, we are still not bewildered or anxious about damage to our honour, and we do not try to set the record straight. When we are insulted and cursed, we still do not waver, do not resent, do not grieve. To keep the mind this steady takes very great inner strength.

Those whose minds are still selfish can never forbear, because selfishness leads to heavy clinging to the self. When clinging to the self is heavy, then when we are insulted or encroached upon we will be very uncomfortable and unable to bear the insult.

A touchy mind also keeps us from forbearing, because touchiness is valuing one's face. A practitioner of Buddhism can forbear only if without self.

A mind that is still agitated cannot forbear either. Because we are easily agitated, when people insult us we lose our calm and forbearance is gone. To cure agitation and be able to forbear, we must practise meditative concentration.

People who often resent and hate also cannot bear insult, and so cannot forbear.

In short, a mind that is still selfish, touchy, agitated or hateful cannot bear other people's insults and so cannot forbear.

c. Forbearance is different from weakness, feebleness and shamelessness.

When we have made a mistake and people give us advice, but we remain blank, feeling no remorse and not recognising our fault, and keep on doing it, that is not forbearance but brazenness. In Buddhism we call it being without shame and without conscience, not knowing embarrassment.

For example, when found out, a person with a habit of petty theft remains silent, appears calm, feels no shame, as if nothing had happened. That silence is not forbearance but brazenness.

In the lesson on truthful conduct, we mentioned three kinds of people. The first is the shameless, the second is the one who feels remorse, and the third is the one without remorse.

The shameless person is one who, having made a mistake and had the fault pointed out by others, still feels no embarrassment or shame. In the language of the world, such a person is "thick-faced". These people usually do not know good and evil, wrongdoing, or cause and effect, and are very frightening.

The second kind is the person who knows cause and effect, wrongdoing and merit. When they have done something wrong and others point it out, they usually feel remorse. This is a person who knows how to practise, and a very good person.

The third kind is the person who, when at fault, knows they are at fault but feels no remorse and no torment. They have no remorse, yet are resolved never to commit the fault again. This is the kind of person who has attained the first meditative absorption. One who attains the first absorption will reach freedom from remorse. Their resolve not to commit faults is very strong.

For us, knowing our faults and feeling remorse is also a serious practice. Reaching that, we have become good people.

In life we meet cases that resemble forbearance but are in fact people without self-respect, who accept lowliness, flatter and cringe because they seek fame and profit. They are the shameless, without integrity. This case often occurs in the world and is seldom met in the Path. For example, someone sees another person's wealth and sidles up to become friends. When the wealthy person shows contempt, orders them from one task to another, even curses them, they just smile it off as if it were nothing important. That cannot be called forbearance. It is courting, cringing and flattering. The forbearance of Buddhism has no courting and wishes nothing for oneself.

Those who endure humiliation and lower their dignity hoping for gain for themselves, whom the people call "taking the blows to eat the sticky rice", are without shame, petty people of common and base character. Their outward behaviour looks very like forbearance but is not at all. We need to take care to distinguish correctly. So when we meet the wealthy and powerful, we must watch our own mind. If we are treated improperly and still put up with it, we must examine our mind to see whether our putting up with it is forbearance or flattery, a wish to court something.

In the world there are petty people who are ready to sell cheap their honour and dignity to seek fame and profit. A practitioner of Buddhism always shows himself a gentleman, with an attitude of not needing anything, not greedy for profit when he sees it and not caring for fame when he sees it. We need only diligence, deep and thick ethics, and merit and wisdom to guide beings.

A person who is timid and afraid, not knowing what to do when pressed down, is weak. When pressed down, they too feel resentment and bitterness in their hearts but do not dare to react because the other has more power than they do. For example, a prisoner beaten and tormented by a jailer who nevertheless endures it. This case is called weakness. Although there is endurance, it is endurance because there is no ability to react and no ability to retaliate, so it is not forbearance in the true sense of Buddhism.

There are cases where a person does not react to being pressed down or insulted, not because they are weak but because they do not want things to become complicated and leave bad consequences. Such a person is one who knows forbearance. The story of two boys and a wallet found on the road is an example.

A boy, rather big for his age, was walking along the road when he suddenly saw a wallet someone had dropped. He had just picked it up to look when another boy, smaller than him, ran up from somewhere demanding to split the money in the wallet in half. He refused, because he wanted to return it to the person who had lost it. While they were pulling at it, he suddenly saw a man fumbling about searching for something. When asked, he found that the wallet belonged to the man, and gladly gave it back. The man was overjoyed and opened it to look. All the money and papers in the wallet were still there. He took out fifty thousand to "thank" the boy. The boy flatly refused. He explained briefly: "If I had wanted it I would have taken it all; I wouldn't have given it back to you, sir." Hearing this, the man thanked him profusely and left. As soon as the man was gone, the smaller boy said:

"Give me twenty-five thousand."

"What money?"

"Because you and I found it together, if he gave fifty thousand it should be split: twenty-five for you, twenty-five for me."

"Didn't you see just now that I gave it all back to him?"

"I don't care. He gave fifty thousand, so twenty-five for you and twenty-five for me. Returning it was your own business, I don't know about that."

The two kept arguing back and forth like this for a while. The smaller boy threatened to hit the bigger one for not giving him the money. The bigger boy suddenly took to his heels. People asked him, "Couldn't you fight him back that you ran away?" He answered, "Of course I could, but if I hit him back he'd die, so I had to run so as not to hit him."

That is forbearance in the true sense. Comparing it with the first case, we see a difference. The prisoner beaten by the jailer grits his teeth and endures because he knows he can do nothing to the other, and the power lies in their hands. In this case, the bigger boy had more than enough ability to hit back but he did not.

So a person who has the ability yet still endures, not reacting and not retaliating, has very high strength of forbearance. In life we meet not a few cases of endurance because one does not dare or lacks the strength to react, but in the heart one still nurses resentment, waiting for a chance for revenge: "just wait and you'll see". That is no longer forbearance.

We need to analyse the mind to see the difference between these two cases. Of course, this is not simple, because the difficulty lies in analysing the two minds. On one side, being weak, a person has to put up with it, but in the mind always wants to retaliate. The mind that wants to retaliate when insulted by others is a very strong mind. On the other side, a person with ample ability and more than enough power still puts up with it and does not retaliate, because a happy mind has taken away the wish to retaliate. Most of us are driven by the retaliating mind. As soon as we are insulted, we want to react straight away. So a mind that does not retaliate is a very precious mind. The root of forbearance lies in that mind.

A practitioner must practise so that, deep in the mind, there is no longer any wish to retaliate even in cases where one has more than enough power. Then we have achieved forbearance: no affliction, no resentment, no reaction, even though we have ample means to do so. Those who free themselves from the retaliating mind deserve great praise and esteem.

Forbearance is a quality of a person who has self-respect and keeps their dignity, who is not afraid, but keeps the heart calm and forgiving. Only those who practise the selfless practice of humility, regarding themselves as grass and rubbish, can forbear. We know that all the ethical practice is concentrated in the three initial attitudes of respect for the Buddha, compassion and humility. From these three attitudes, countless other attitudes and practices are opened up.

Forbearance is related to the humble mind. A person who sees themselves as grass and rubbish, as sand and dust, will find it easier to forbear. So every night when sitting in meditation, we contemplate ourselves as sand and dust, as grass and rubbish. When others curse and insult us, we will be calm and see nothing worth being angry about. Even when someone calls us a dog, we are still not angry. Sometimes we may even reply, lightly enough to take them by surprise: "What you say is not true. If I were a dog I would still be very big. In truth I am sand and dust, grass and rubbish."

It is told that King Philip of Macedon, father of Alexander the Great (who led his armies from Greece to India and conquered a vast empire across the Middle East and Egypt to India), was a very perceptive man. He held that the common illness of all the kings of the world is arrogance. So he told a servant who stood at the head of his bed that each morning, as soon as he woke, the first sentence to say to him was: "Philip, you must remember that you are only an ordinary man." In doing so he wanted to remind himself throughout his life not to be arrogant, because arrogance usually brings people to failure. So in his life as king he ruled his people with great success. His son Alexander the Great, who conquered everywhere, was also a man of many stratagems and great wisdom.

At that time King Philip wanted to send his army to attack a neighbouring country. Seeing the danger that King Philip would invade his country while the people thought only of amusement and made no preparation, the orator Demosthenes stood up to rouse and call on the people to unite and train to resist the enemy. He had a stammer, so every day he went to the seashore, put pebbles on his tongue and shouted against the waves to train his voice. By doing so he later became a famous orator of ancient times. He stood in the middle of the city and urged the people to recognise the disaster King Philip was about to bring down on their country. King Philip's spies recorded everything Demosthenes said to the people and brought it back to show King Philip. They were bitter attacks on King Philip. After reading them, the king was not angry but praised Demosthenes for speaking well: "If I had heard these words in person I would probably have opposed myself." Even so, King Philip still sent his army and won a glorious victory. He won because he was a king and also a sage. His clear-sightedness showed not only in cleverness and outward tactics but also in the control of his own mind. That is why people admire King Philip.

To be skilled in outward affairs yet still control one's inner mind is something very good that a practitioner of Buddhism should note. When we become capable and able to shoulder every task, we must constantly watch our mind, especially the mind of conceit. So the humble mind is the foundation by which we can cultivate these minds.

d. There are cases of forbearance out of compassion.

We have heard the story of the king who was a previous life of the Buddha, who gave up the throne so that his people could escape war. He yielded his country to the enemy king. The Buddha had been a king through countless lifetimes because of his great merit. As king he ruled the world with all his love. At that time the population was still small, so the king often visited each of his people in person. Whoever had trouble, he took careful care of. Because the national treasury was usually devoted to relieving the people, the king had not equipped the military. His forces and army were very weak. The neighbouring country knew this and sent its army to invade. When the spies at the border ran back with the alarm, the king sat thinking for a long time. He saw that if he resisted, ninety percent of the defeat would surely fall to his own country. The sacrifice of the people's blood and lives would then be too great. Moreover, the other king also knew how to rule his people. Thinking so, he ordered his soldiers not to take up weapons. The generals and soldiers opened the city gates and stood on both sides waiting for the other army to advance. When all was done, he leapt on his horse and fled.

When the other king came marching in with his army in a great din, he was astonished to see the people quiet and no soldier fighting. He entered the city, and the officials stood still as if receiving him. The golden throne was empty, and on asking he learned that the other king had run away. He looked up to the sky, laughed and said, "That fellow heard my name and was so afraid he ran off, but who knows, he may gather forces and come back to attack me." He ordered a hunt and promised a rich reward to whoever captured that king.

After leaving the city, the king wandered in the forest, digging up roots and eating raw leaves to get through the days. His clothes were also in tatters and he looked truly wretched. One day on a forest path he met a Brahmin. The man asked whether he knew the way to the capital of that country. He asked, "What for?" The man answered, "Sir, I have heard that the king who rules that country is a very good man who often helps people. I have come from far away, and my circumstances are desperate. Now my five or six wives and a few dozen children are all in the same plight. If we are not helped, my family will have to accept a tragic end: starving to death. Hearing that the king was good, I resolved to seek him out to be helped." Hearing this, he exclaimed, "Heavens, that king is none other than I." The Brahmin embraced the king, weeping as he said, "Heavens! I came looking for you so that you could help me, and I never expected to find you in such a ruined state. What can be done?" After thinking a while, he said, "Very well, there is still a way I can help you. Bind me and hand me over; you will get a good sum of money." The man was alarmed: "Heavens, how could I do such a thing?" "Just do as I say. I am only one body, alone, it doesn't matter; your five or six wives and dozens of children are what matter." Hearing his reasoning, the man gave way, took a rope, bound the king and led him back. The king then seated on the throne was overjoyed, thinking he could remove the threat. After giving the Brahmin a very generous reward, he asked, "How did you manage to capture him?" The Brahmin told the story from beginning to end. After hearing it, the king was deeply moved. He had not imagined that in this world there was still someone so good, always ready to sacrifice for others without thinking of himself. He felt that through all his years of campaigning, contending and seizing, he was not as noble as that man, who always knew only how to sacrifice and yield. The king awoke; he apologised and untied the virtuous king. After returning the throne, the two sides formed a bond of friendship between their states.

So his action was an expression of the lofty virtue of forbearance. That forbearance came from a compassionate mind, not from personal gain.

From this story of the king who left his throne (a previous life of the Buddha), we can relate the case of King Trần Thái Tông in Vietnam. When he had just taken the throne, the Mongols marched into our country to invade. History records that wherever the Mongol horses' hooves went, no grass could grow. The Mongol army was very powerful. They sent their forces to conquer everywhere, from Asia to Europe. So when he heard the Mongols were about to attack our country, King Trần Thái Tông was very afraid. He thought that if he confronted them, countless innocent beings would surely be drenched in blood. He discussed with the Grand Preceptor Trần Thủ Độ whether to surrender so that the people could escape mountains of bones and rivers of blood. Trần Thủ Độ answered resolutely, "If Your Majesty wishes to surrender, please cut off my head first." At that time Trần Thủ Độ was resolute in fighting because he believed he would win. Although decisive, and at times ruthless, his determination helped us defeat the Mongols and opened a heroic page in our nation's history of resisting foreign invasion. Even now the world has not stopped wondering how a small country like Vietnam could defeat the Mongol army. People have raised the question of re-studying Vietnam's lessons in defeating the Mongols.

We defeated the Yuan-Mongol army three times. The last two times were thanks to Kings Trần Thánh Tông and Trần Nhân Tông. There were many causes of those glorious victories. Among them, one extremely important cause was that the resistance was led by wise rulers of deep and thick ethics. In his "Ode to the Bạch Đằng River", Trương Hán Siêu praised them:

Two wise and sage rulers, This river washed clean the armour of many an army. The enemy scattered, peace for ten thousand ages: Not from the dangerous terrain, but from lofty virtue.

Trương Hán Siêu was a strategist to Prince Hưng Đạo, working with him to draw up the decisions for fighting the enemy, yet he was also a quiet man who rarely showed himself.

One thing we must record is that the kings and officials of the Trần dynasty (Trần Thái Tông, Trần Thánh Tông, Trần Nhân Tông, Trần Thủ Độ, Trần Hưng Đạo and others) all admired Buddhism. They were all Zen masters, with ethics. Trần Hưng Đạo was a person with very deep spiritual attainment. He had ethics, practised, and rendered great service to the country. So people revere him as a saint (Đức Thánh Trần).

So was it right or wrong that Trần Thủ Độ and the later Trần kings were resolved to fight the Mongols and did not forbear? Is such tenacious resistance to foreign invasion not in keeping with the practice of forbearance in Buddhism?

Here we should note one thing: in the situation of those rulers, one could no longer think of oneself but had to consider the larger matter, the matter of the nation and the people. So the king (in the story of the Buddha's previous life) forbore for the people. The Trần kings were resolved to fight also for the people and not for their own careers.

We know that forbearance is a noble virtue that each of us must practise and train, but we do not forbear in every situation. We need to take into account the interests of many people and adopt a suitable attitude. For ourselves, once we have cultivated the practice of selflessness and humility, we will be able to forbear. But when we know that our attitude and decision concern the interests of everyone, we must weigh them. It is the same in judging others: we must see whether their conduct concerns personal interest or the interests of many, and must not judge in a one-sided, partial way.

3. FORBEARANCE IS KNOWING HOW TO REPAY KARMA IN FULL

Over countless lifetimes of rebirth we have created a great deal of karma. Perhaps in countless previous lives we did who knows how many bad things and made who knows how many people suffer. So let us think that we are in this life to repay that karma in full. If we meet with difficulty and setbacks in life, we must also forbear and endure in order to repay the karma we made in the past. That is fairness. We hope only for this: to forbear and practise so as to become a human being in the true sense, without thinking of anything far off, such as practising to become a saint or a bodhisattva. There is karma we created in the past that appears in this life for us to repay. But there is also karma that does not appear in this life and is deferred to several lives later. Do not think that whatever we sow in this life we repay immediately. Some karma is deferred for five or ten lives, sometimes a hundred lives, before we meet the conditions to repay it.

We remember the story in the Water Repentance of the censor Triệu Thố, later the National Teacher Ngộ Đạt. Ten lives before he became the National Teacher Ngộ Đạt, he had been a censor. By a false report to the throne, he caused a man's death. The wronged spirit pursued him for ten lives before taking revenge, by entering his body as a human-faced sore that caused him terrible pain.

So not every karma is repaid at once. None of us has never created karma. We created a lot of it over countless past lives, so now we must have the strength to endure and repay it all. Knowing this, when we ourselves are insulted we must endure, without reacting or resenting, to avoid creating new karma and new grievances for future lives.

There is a story of a previous life of the Buddha when he was an ascetic practising in the forest. At that time there was a king named Kali. One day he went into the forest with his palace women for a stroll. As everyone scattered to walk about and enjoy the view, the palace women came to a stone platform and saw an ascetic sitting motionless, his face calm and gentle. They put fruit before him as an offering, paid homage and asked for teaching. The ascetic gave them a Dharma talk. One after another, more palace women arrived in large numbers and sat around the ascetic to hear the teaching. Meanwhile the king, strolling, suddenly realised there was no one left around him. He went looking and came upon the sight of an ascetic sitting in the middle, speaking with great absorption, with his beloved palace women around him listening intently. His touchiness rose up (it was also old karma whose time had come to collect), and he asked the ascetic insolently, "What are you doing here?" The ascetic answered, "Great King, I am here practising forbearance." "Good," said the king, and drawing his sword he cut off the ascetic's right arm. The arm fell, and blood poured out. The king asked, "Well, can you forbear?" The ascetic answered, "Great King, I can forbear." The king swung his sword again, and the left arm fell. He asked again, "Well, can you forbear?" "Great King, I can forbear." The king swung and cut again and asked, "Well, can you forbear?" "Yes, I can." The king swung his sword once more and asked, "Can you forbear?" The ascetic remained calm: "Yes, I can forbear." Now, it seems, the past karma had been fully collected, and the king suddenly felt remorse. He dropped his sword and knelt before the ascetic to repent.

He had lost too much blood to be saved, and the sage died. Before closing his eyes, he said, "I can forbear. I bear no hatred towards Your Majesty. I still love Your Majesty as I love everyone, and I vow that when I later become a Buddha, the first person I will guide will be Your Majesty."

Indeed, when he later became a Buddha, he guided that king. Kondañña, the first disciple to attain arhatship, was the very king who had cut him in the past. He kept his promise and bore no hatred, because he understood it was past karma that he had to repay.

Bodhisattvas forbear because, more than anyone, they remember exactly what they did and where it happened, and know that now is the time to return and repay the karma. So they are never angry, nor is their mind disturbed, nor do they have affliction. It is the same for us: we made much karma in the past, and now, meeting those old grievances again, we must know how to endure with patience. That is the most correct attitude of a Buddha's disciple.

For example, when we meet someone, even though we have done nothing wrong, they hate us bitterly for no reason, and we feel great distress. But at some point, in a sudden dream, we see that in a previous life we had a grievance with them. Perhaps we met in battle. Then we were the victors, gloating and happy, while they were defeated and carried their sorrow and anger down to this life. So when we meet again, they hate us and try every way to harm us. Because a dream has appeared to tell us this, now we understand and no longer feel sad or angry. This is a case of forbearance through remembering exactly the past karma we made.

In the Buddha's time, in a certain village a family had a very beautiful daughter. The father knew how to read physiognomy. Looking at his daughter's full, noble features, he said she must become queen, that is, reach the peak of fame. So he had to select a decent, distinguished son-in-law. While he was in the stage of selecting, one day on the road the girl met the Buddha going on his alms round. Looking at him, she was astonished, never having imagined that in this world there was a man so handsome and of such auspicious features. She hurried home and said to her father, "Father, I have met the worthy one." "What is he like?" "He is extremely good, extremely handsome, with extremely noble features; the only thing is that he is a renunciant." He said, "Let me see." With that he went into the forest towards where the Buddha was walking. The Buddha knew his mind and used his supernormal power to imprint his footprints on the ground (normally he walked very lightly).

The Buddha's sole had a whorl in the centre, like the wheel of the Dharma. Going into the forest and seeing the footprints, the old man said, "This won't do," and turned back. He told his wife, "It's no good, my dear; this person is a sage, the sole is very full and there is a whorl in the middle." The wife, loving her daughter so much, persuaded her husband: "Never mind, sage or not, renunciant or not, he could also become a king. Our daughter has already taken a liking to him; don't let her be sad." The couple and their daughter went hand in hand into the forest to meet him. At that moment the Buddha was sitting calmly in meditation. The old man stood and greeted him and said, "Sir, I am a wealthy man of this village. I have only one daughter, and her beauty is second to none. The time has come to choose a worthy place to entrust her to. She has special noble features. Seeing that you too are very noble, I wish to choose you as my son-in-law. Although you are practising, if you agree to become my son-in-law, you will have everything." He chattered on, promising a great deal. The Buddha answered, "A very long time ago, the Tathagata cast away all the ordinary desires of this world. Craving only makes people suffer. As for a body called beautiful, what meaning does lovely have? It is no more than a lovely bag of skin containing foul things inside. One day the body will grow old, wasted and withered, the skin wrinkled, the hair white, the eyes small, the back bent. If we look closely at its nature, there is nothing beautiful; do not cling to beauty. The Tathagata long ago went beyond such ordinary desires."

Knowing they could not persuade him, the couple went home dejected. The girl, hearing this, did not understand it was the teaching, and thought he was scorning her, insulting her as beautiful and lovely on the outside but foul inside. She became angry and nursed resentment. Indeed, the old man had read the features correctly. Later King Udayana (Udena) brought her to be his queen. But in her heart she still nursed that hatred.

Once, hearing that the Buddha was coming to her country, she ordered all the people to stand on both sides of the road and curse him. At that time the roads were very narrow. The people standing on both sides pointed their fingers almost into his face. In this way they lined up on both sides and cursed him viciously. Whoever cursed well was richly rewarded by the queen. Ananda, who was walking with him, could not bear to see the Buddha insulted and said:

"Blessed One, the people of this country do not like us. Let us go somewhere else."

"Where would we go? What if people curse us there too?"

"Then we will go somewhere else again."

"And if we go again and meet people cursing us?"

"Then we will go again."

The Buddha said:

"No. Karma that appears in a place will be exhausted in that place."

Having said this, he took his bowl and walked on. Wherever there were people waiting for him to come and curse him, there he went. So, having listened to the cursing in one place, he went on to another place to keep listening to cursing. Ananda still trailed behind him so as to hear the cursing together with him.

That day no one offered anything, and the master and disciple, fed full on cursing and fasting, returned. The next day, again carrying his bowl, he went into the village. The people again stood in rows waiting to curse. Without a moment's hesitation, he went straight to where they stood. Through one street and then another, people stood waiting for him to curse, and he said nothing. Another day he went hungry to listen to cursing and then returned home.

Ananda was in great distress. By the fourth day, the people began to run out of curses. Seeing that he still went on calmly with his bowl, they only stood looking with eyes full of astonishment mixed with admiration, though the queen ordered them to keep cursing. He walked on silently. The people watched silently. Seeing that the people no longer cursed, the queen gave a more severe order. Only a few people cursed a sentence or two and stopped. They no longer dared to curse because they saw his radiant, peaceful face, so compassionate. Gradually, he guided the people of that country.

The reason the Buddha forbore so extraordinarily is that he knew that in some distant past life he had insulted the honour of others. He had insulted not only the queen but also the people of that country. The matter of their coming to ask for marriage was only a marker, a present condition for the karmic result to appear. It was not the main cause. The main cause lay many lives earlier, when he insulted a whole country's people.

We should not confuse forbearance with a cowardly, self-protective, selfish attitude when we see others bullied or in danger.

For example, if on the road we meet a robber snatching a girl's necklace, we must not "forbear" and pass by. That is a cowardly, self-protective, selfish attitude, not forbearance. In this case, if we have learned some martial art, let us be a hero and help. If, weighing our strength, we cannot manage, we must raise the alarm and cry for help so that others will assist. Remember that forbearing only for oneself is simple, but when others are concerned we must be careful and choose a suitable attitude.

The thousands of years of our people's history of building and defending the nation prove this. Our ancestors did not always put up with things. Though they love peace dearly, when necessary our people have risen to fight tenaciously to defend the independence and freedom of the nation. There are people we can move by an attitude of forbearance. When they speak harshly and insult us, we remain gentle and forbearing, and gradually they change into feeling sympathy. But with not a few people, we need a strict attitude to teach them a lesson and stop them from continuing to do wrong, because such people are usually fierce by nature. Seeing us put up with things, they draw a "truth" for themselves: to succeed in life one must be fierce and know how to overbear others and take advantage for oneself. We have heard those without conscience hold the view: "You must know how to be wicked and ruthless in order to live strongly," or "The strong win, the weak lose." Such people cannot be moved by our forbearance, so we must take a clear and decisive attitude, lest our forbearance sometimes bring disaster on others. With foreign invaders, forbearance is even less effective; we must be stronger and more resolute, because the nature of invaders, in any age, is always cruel.

Sometimes, falling into dire circumstances with health worn down, a person still has the will to endure; that is a courageous person with great strength. We practitioners need to be like that. Even when we meet difficult circumstances, want, hardship, illness and so on, our mind is still not shaken, we do not lose our will, and we do not give up our ideal.

4. THE FORBEARANCE OF THOSE WHO PRACTISE MEDITATIVE CONCENTRATION

a. A person who has attained the first meditative absorption usually does not become agitated when insulted. Outsiders looking on see them very calm, unagitated, and think they are very forbearing. But in truth, they do not feel they are forbearing, because no dust of affliction arises in the mind. They are very calm and at peace. When we say they are very forbearing though insulted, they think there is nothing to forbear. That is the power of meditative concentration. People who attain from the first absorption upwards begin to have it.

b. With a light mind, one can give rise to compassion or humour to dissolve hostility. Usually when we meet adversity or something against our wishes, we have to endure. If our strength of endurance is not great, we must use up our whole mind to endure. Then we have no mind left to do anything.

For example, someone curses us for no reason. They are very rude and angry and say insulting things. At that moment we also put up with it and endure, head bowed in silence, but that enduring covers the whole mind. Merely enduring is also called forbearance, but in that case our strength of path is not yet great.

Conversely, in some cases when insulted we endure, but the mind has something "to spare"; that is, we do not have to use much mental energy to endure. Then we can think of something cheerful and say a humorous line to dissolve the tension.

A very simple example: today it is my turn to cook the rice, and somehow my senior fellow monk keeps showing displeasure and keeps blaming me right in front of the lay people. First he complains the rice is undercooked, then that the food is not tasty. At that moment, my endurance is also high, so I say with a touch of humour: "But yesterday someone praised me for being like you, Elder Brother." Hearing this, everyone laughs together. This well-timed joke dissolves the original tense atmosphere. In such circumstances, we can still think of a humorous remark because our mind still has "something to spare"; it is not endurance so strained that it covers the whole mind, making us bow our heads and bear it, holding sorrow in the heart.

c. A monastic must have a high capacity for forbearance in order to set an example for lay followers. If, coming into the temple, they see us blaming each other, bickering and resenting each other, lay followers will think we do not practise well and the temple is not pure; they will be discouraged and easily give up. So often, thinking of the temple's reputation, we must forbear. That too is great merit. In difficult circumstances, when lay followers see that we are still calm and still able to endure, they will have faith in the Dharma.

Before we can forbear through meditative concentration, we should practise forbearance through right thinking.

For example, when people curse us, we put up with it thinking in terms of cause and effect: this is probably a grievance from a previous life, because we once insulted them, and now they curse us back. That is the first thought: forbearing according to cause and effect. The second thought: we are grateful to this person because, through their cursing, we are practising endurance. This is a good spiritual friend reminding us that we are always grass and rubbish, sand and dust. Or sometimes the thought is that through our forbearance the person comes to understand and is moved. This is forbearing out of compassion. At a higher level, we forbear because we think of the reputation of the temple and the Dharma, and the faith of lay followers. The merit of forbearance for this purpose is very great. So before attaining meditative concentration, which gives natural forbearance, we should forbear through thought.

We need to distinguish each case in order to practise forbearance in the true sense. Faced with others' attacks, we must always calmly consider whether what they say is right or wrong. If we see that what they criticise and attack is right, we should stop what we are doing, change and find ways to correct the error. We should avoid both attitudes: reacting and resisting fiercely, or staying silent and paying no attention to what others say. To know one is wrong and still push on to the end is to fall into the illness of wilful subjectivity, and eventually to court miserable failure. In the case where we see that what we are doing is completely right and people's advice and criticism is wrong, we still endure their attacks and continue our work. That is called holding a firm position.

Speaking of forbearance, people often retell the famous story "Xi Shi, queen of the state of Wu". In that time, King Fuchai of Wu led his army to conquer the state of Yue (not today's Vietnam) and took King Goujian of Yue back as a slave. That was a great humiliation for a king. King Goujian of Yue attended on the king of Wu every day, attentively and devotedly. Once, when Fuchai fell gravely ill and the court physicians were at a loss what to do, Goujian asked to taste Fuchai's excrement to judge the illness. Goujian's deed deeply moved King Fuchai and the court officials. King Fuchai of Wu believed the king of Yue had completely submitted and no longer had any intention of revenge. After he recovered, Fuchai let Goujian return home. Every year King Goujian of Yue regularly sent tribute to the king of Wu. At first it was gold, silver and jewels, then precious timber for the king of Wu to build the Gusu Terrace, and finally beautiful women to amuse the king. Among the beauties presented was Xi Shi, whose beauty could "topple a city and overturn a state". On one side, King Goujian instructed the beauties to enchant King Fuchai of Wu so that he spent all day in pleasure on the Gusu Terrace and forgot all affairs of state. On the other, he strengthened his troops and trained his will by "sleeping on thorns and tasting gall". When the moment came, Goujian's army marched over to attack, and Fuchai could not respond in time. The whole city of Gusu sank in a sea of fire, and Fuchai died a tragic death.

In the period he was a slave to Fuchai, Goujian endured and forbore in an admirable way. But it was not the forbearance of Buddhism. It was craftiness, forbearance with the aim of revenge.

Han Xin showed his innate talent from childhood. He was very skilled in military matters, studied the books of war and battle diagrams, and discussed them with everyone he met. Once, at the market, he met a thug. The man stood with his legs apart and demanded that he crawl between them, otherwise he would kill him. Han Xin thought for a moment and crawled through. The other laughed triumphantly. He thought that this was not a hero. A true hero would rather die than endure humiliation. He did not know that Han Xin was a man nursing a great ambition. Such a man is ready to endure humiliation to preserve his life, avoid trouble over immediate matters and hide his extraordinary martial skill so that he could later accomplish great things in the world. Later, when he became a general, not only was he not angry, he even rewarded that man. He wanted the world to know he was not a petty person. This is the case of a person of great ambition who can put up with small things.

The case of Mạc Đĩnh Chi of our country is also an example of forbearance. He was born into a very poor family, his father died early and he himself was ugly. Even so, he strove to study and passed the top examination as Trạng nguyên. When he went as envoy to China, the king of that country admired him and also conferred on him the title of Trạng nguyên. So he was Trạng nguyên of both countries. Although Mạc Đĩnh Chi's endurance of hardship to study and succeed was still for the purpose of seeking a career, his mind was good and he did nothing evil, so it is still close to the forbearance of Buddhism.

A practitioner of Buddhism always forbears everything, from small things to large. We do not forbear in order to seek a career or honour. Because we hold that this self is not real, the forbearance of Buddhism still differs from the forbearance of worldly people. But if we think more deeply, we have a great ambition, to become a Buddha, and then other matters are small and should be let go.

In Escaping the Bonds of the World there is the story of National Teacher Ngọc Lâm. Once, falsely accused of murder, he was arrested and put in prison, but he still did not defend himself. For a practitioner, being falsely accused of murder is a very grave offence. Later his senior fellow monk Ngọc Lam cleared his name.

Why was he unjustly accused yet did not argue, and was so peaceful? The reason is very simple. For him honour was only an illusion, so he did not need it. We practitioners do not need it either. What gives us peace is precisely our innocence, our purity. When we are truly pure, we will be at peace, and everything else is only cause and effect, karma and conditions. What is to be feared is that at the time of repaying karma we create new wrongdoing and make the mind uneasy. If, at the time of repaying karma, we are slandered but deep down we truly have no guilt and are completely pure, then our mind will be very peaceful. So living a pure life without wrongdoing is the support by which we practitioners find peace in this life.