A life of altruism

1. THE CONCEPT

Altruism (vị tha) is living for others. (Tha means the other person, others.)

A life of altruism is one in which we live to benefit others and no longer live for ourselves. It is a fine way of life that all the saints, from ancient times until now, have dreamed of and striven to attain.

Each religion has certain standards by which to judge its followers. Christianity often holds ceremonies of canonisation for believers and clergy of special merit by its standards. Buddhism also has ways of judging practitioners so as to honour them as saints. These are people who have spiritual realisation and a life of virtue, or who through Zen meditation and reciting the Buddha's name have attained wonderful things in life, with supernormal powers, miracles and wisdom, and so bring benefit to everyone.

By the standards of its own religion, each religion has very many figures regarded as saints. Buddhism has countless Zen masters, arhats, saints who have attained the fruits, patriarchs, great masters and so on. Some are not very famous, but when they pass away and are cremated, relics are found, and they too are regarded as having attained sainthood. In other religions, depending on devotion and service to the faith, a person is also regarded as a saint.

In the world, scientists and sociologists, with the outlook of people without a religion, judge a saint from other angles. So those named saints by social standards are not many. We see that the world has famous people and great people, and only a few saints. To this day, the famous saint recognised by the whole world is Gandhi. This is a very rare case. The Buddha is also regarded by the world as a saint. Jesus is also regarded by the world as a saint. Or Confucius, the famous philosopher, is also regarded as a saint. That is, the number of people regarded as saints is very small.

We study the lesson on the life of altruism to find a common denominator for the character or standard of a saint, both in Buddhism and in the feelings of people around the world.

A life of altruism is the common standard in judging a saint, praised by Buddhism and also by the world. It does not matter what religion that person follows or what position they hold; it is enough to see that they live with great kindness, with great altruism compared with everyone else, have great capacity to do much for the world, have great influence on people and always act for people and for humankind; people then praise them as a saint.

Judged by the spiritual level of Buddhism, a Zen master may have spiritual attainment and spend a lifetime teaching the Dharma; within the sphere of religion we may sometimes call him a saint, but the world does not recognise him. In Buddhism there are countless Zen masters and people who have realised the Path. We may praise them and regard them as saints, but people outside Buddhism see only ordinary monastics. The standards for judging people differ like this.

Setting aside the question of the standards for judging people, we see that a life of altruism is a beautiful life. A person who achieves it can persuade not only people within the religion but also those outside it. In this life we may live altruistically only a little, but fundamentally everyone should live altruistically. Who knows, in later lives we may have greater capacity, a life of altruism with greater influence, and bring greater benefit to humankind.

So why is a life of altruism a beautiful life that everyone praises? Because for a long time, owing to the powerful instinct of clinging to the self, we have been ruled by the tendency of selfishness in all our thoughts, words and deeds. From that, in life, we know only how to live for ourselves and do everything for our own benefit first. When small, we fight over food and drink and over our siblings' affection. Grown up, we may use every trick to fight for money and power for ourselves. This world is full of suffering because of a selfish life. In the Four Noble Truths, suffering is regarded as a fact, a reality of life, and the cause of suffering is selfishness. So a life of altruism is a life that helps people escape suffering. Without yet practising lofty teachings, merely by living an altruistic life we already bring peace and joy to our minds.

In this life we do not lack worries, tormenting pains and anxious brooding. At such times we go to a teacher, and he teaches us a contemplation to counter the suffering.

For example, when there is sad news in the family, we go to a teacher to find peace. The teacher will teach us to contemplate that this world is impermanent, this body is impure and will be buried three inches deep in the earth. Contemplating like this, we lessen our suffering and worry. When we complain about illness, the teacher will teach us to contemplate that this body is impermanent and illusory, one day it will be lost, and there is nothing to be worried or anxious about. When we confide that in life we are often envied or fought over for benefits, we will be taught to contemplate: regard this life as a dream, fleeting and illusory. And when we practise, by contemplating all things as illusory, we gain a little peace of mind and a measure of calm. But in truth, such contemplations to counter affliction treat only the tip and not the root, no different from a sick person taking Western medicine: when one illness is cured, another arises.

For example, facing life we feel that many things are not as we wish, many things do not succeed, and much envy and resentment wears us out. If we sit and contemplate this world as a dream, impermanent and not worth being attached to, we find our hearts a little less sorrowful. But in fact another illness appears: an indifferent, apathetic state of mind towards life, which gradually kills our compassion. This is a very dangerous side effect.

So when studying the Prajñāpāramitā (Perfection of Wisdom), we must be careful. The Prajñā teaching is praised as supreme. Among the six perfections, Prajñā is in the final stage. When studying the Lotus Sutra, we find the view that the Lotus Sutra is superior to all other teachings except the Prajñāpāramitā. That is, everyone praises the Prajñā teaching, by which the practitioner sees this life as illusory and empty. However, the Prajñā teaching is not absolutely without fault. It makes us appear at ease with life as we see everything as illusory, but it still has a side effect, a secondary illness that makes us lose our compassion and become indifferent and apathetic to life.

A person who understands Prajñā deeply can enter concentration. If we regularly contemplate that this body is false, this mind is false, and the surrounding scenery is all false, we too can enter concentration. But that is the shallow contemplation of Prajñā. If we contemplate more deeply, the Prajñā teaching has even more wonders. We can reach the profound principle of Prajñā, the very deep principle of Prajñā. A person who understands this extremely deep principle will naturally enter concentration, and through such wonderful insights could write another six hundred volumes of Prajñā.

The Prajñā Sutra left in the canon today is six hundred volumes. Some Venerables have translated it into Vietnamese, but as the language is still too archaic, it has not drawn many followers. Prajñā has as many as six hundred volumes, meaning there is no sutra collection as long as the Prajñā collection. People can speak of it endlessly without exhausting its meaning, and never tire of it. It is just the one word "emptiness", yet speaking it over and over, opening and closing, the meaning is never exhausted. If a person realises the principle of Prajñā, they can go on writing another six hundred volumes, and the mind naturally enters concentration. The principle of Prajñā is that wonderful.

No teaching has all the virtues; there will be good sides and sides that are not so good. The Prajñā teaching is the same. Although taught in six hundred volumes and praised by everyone as supreme, Prajñā still has shortcomings. What matters is how we understand and apply it correctly.

If to say "contemplate everything as illusory" is to treat only the tip of the illness, what does it mean to treat the illness at its root? We need to understand one thing: the cause of all suffering is selfishness. This is a principle, a truth, that the Buddha taught. If we feel worry in life, we should not treat it at the tip; let us treat it right at its root. That is to cure our own selfish mind. Of course, curing at the root is not simple.

To soothe sorrow, we can contemplate that life is impermanent. But to truly pull out the root of suffering, there is only one way: to put a complete end to our own selfish mind. To do this, we must train for a long time. During that time we will lead an altruistic life to cure our selfish mind. Then suffering will truly be absent.

Even if our life is full of misfortune, even if we are disabled, sick, poor, poorly educated and so on, if we live a truly altruistic life, without selfishness, those feelings of inferiority and sadness will melt away in our hearts. For an altruistic life counters and destroys selfishness. That is the truth the Buddha set out long ago in the Four Noble Truths. So the altruistic life is an extremely beautiful life, always bringing benefit to those around us because at every moment we live for them.

On a small scale, "around us" means in a temple, in a classroom, in a family, among neighbours, in a clan and so on. On a large scale, it is a whole social community, a world. Depending on our capacity, our altruistic mind and altruistic life influence to a certain degree. So when we have an altruistic life, first of all those around us benefit, and we ourselves also wipe out all suffering.

Because the tendency of selfishness rules so strongly, we always seek to satisfy our own desires, from low to high. The lowest is eating well, dressing beautifully, living in luxury. Higher is satisfying spiritual values: being respected and waited on by everyone. Higher still is gaining fame and authority. Those in the Path hope to attain the Path. That is, we always want to "add" and to "get": to become a Buddha, to attain the Path, to realise, to be enlightened and so on.

That is because deep in our hearts there is still subtle greed. We always want to bring benefit to ourselves and not to lose. If we say that practice is losing, throwing away, even losing oneself, we feel terrified, because it strikes our greed so strongly. Studying the perfections, we see there are two cases. Some hold that one practises in order to attain the Path, to be enlightened, to become a Buddha and so on, and that this is also the ideal of the practitioner. Others understand that one practises in order to lose, to lose everything, even to lose oneself. The first case is a person of low capacity. The second is a person of high capacity. They have right view, thin greed, little selfishness and wisdom from some past life, so when they hear that practice need not add but subtracts, they are delighted.

So greed and selfishness continue to exist and rule us, making us continue to suffer. In the world we suffer because of worldly ambitions: gaining money, wealth, fame and affection. When we enter the Path, we will suffer because of the Path's goals: wanting high qualifications, wanting to become a Venerable or a Senior Nun, wanting a big temple and many disciples. Those goals will make us suffer. Even the spiritual goals, hoping to attain the Path and be enlightened, if we are not careful, will make us suffer. I say if we are not careful because if we understand that the two terms enlightenment and attainment of the Path are not real, we will not suffer. If we understand them as real, we will suffer because of them.

There are such cases in reality. In history there is the story of the six patriarchs in China. In the Dharma assembly of the Fifth Patriarch Hongren there was the senior monk Shenxiu, the leader of the great assembly, and everyone hoped that the Fifth Patriarch would transmit the robe and bowl to him. The robe and bowl symbolise the spiritual; only one who has attained the Path and awakened is worthy of receiving the robe and bowl. When it was heard that Master Huineng had received that robe and bowl, a fierce opposition arose among the Sangha. So we see that what is called enlightenment or attainment of the Path is in the end just an ambition in disguise, and makes people go on suffering.

This world is full of suffering because people know only how to live for themselves and face towards themselves. So altruism is a lofty, beautiful way of life that all the saints, from of old, have praised and extolled. The altruistic mind goes against the instinct of clinging to the self and against the tendency of selfishness, and lessens suffering in this life. An altruistic life can cure many of our psychological illnesses and many afflictions, and make this life happier. In life, some people carry sad feelings of inferiority; if they know how to do much charitable, altruistic work, they will overcome their suffering. Contemplations that counter affliction are only temporary.

2. MONASTICS MUST ACHIEVE A LIFE OF ALTRUISM

A monastic cannot live selfishly. At present, the decline in the ethics of monks and nuns is also due to the rule of a selfish way of life. When we put on the practitioner's robe and enter the Path, we bring the hope of seeking a life of liberation. If we still live selfishly, we are not worthy of the practising life. A monastic must live an altruistic life. The ideal of liberation and the altruistic life are one, because they share the same nature of non-self. Liberation is going beyond clinging to the self; the altruistic life also goes beyond clinging to the self. If we earnestly seek a life of liberation, we must achieve an altruistic life. Even if we have not yet practised much, in every hour and every minute of this life we live for our fellow monastics and for everyone. Living like this, we are gradually walking the road to liberation, and our clinging to the self is being fiercely attacked.

To be liberated, we must go beyond clinging to the self. There are many roads by which we can go beyond it. The final road is to go by concentration and wisdom. But before going by that road, we must have a life of the utmost altruism. That is, always living for others and no longer living for ourselves alone. The altruistic life is also the crystallisation of a life of ethics. We have studied a great deal about ethics. Whether we study equality, truthfulness, how to give advice and point out faults, or humility, and may later study many more, we aim at achieving one thing alone: the altruistic life.

That is the most beautiful life a human being can have, and also the ideal that a monastic must pursue. We must live for everyone, from the very smallest matters to the very greatest. Even while pursuing a great undertaking, such as bringing the Dharma to people, or building a home for the elderly or an orphanage, we still remember not to neglect the trivial matters of daily life when they benefit those around us.

Deep in our hearts we keep this in mind. That is, we do not fear hardship and suffering, do not spare effort or strength, do not care whether our own life is happy or painful, and care only about giving to others. We put an end to all our goals in life so that from now on there is only one goal: to benefit others and bring them happiness. Such a person will never suffer again even if the toil and bustle may multiply.

If we think that we practise in order to gain ease, happiness and liberation, we have been deceived by such flowery words. For that way we are seeking something for ourselves. A person who practises only to live a life of happiness and ease is going against Buddhism. There are people who throughout their lives never seek anything for themselves, toil only for others, and yet they are the ones who are truly happy.

Those who enter a retreat should be careful. If they are not yet a person who has attained the altruistic life, are still ruled by selfishness, and their compassion is not yet truly open, and they enter a retreat to practise diligently, facing themselves alone, they easily come under the rule of selfishness and clinging to the self. Day by day, the clinging to the self grows, merit is depleted, and they do not know it. Only those whose past merit is very great, whose altruistic mind is open and whose life is extremely kind can truly be at ease on entering a retreat. They will not develop ego or selfishness.

A proverb says: "Respect the teacher in order to become a teacher." To have an altruistic life, we must seek out and read the examples of altruistic lives of saints in Buddhism and in the world, so as to give rise to admiration as an initial cause for ourselves. If we have never admired anyone for an altruistic life, we will not find an altruistic life for ourselves. This is cause and effect. Remember, whatever we respect in someone, we will come to achieve.

First of all, we must know how to admire the Buddha. For countless lifetimes he lived an altruistic life. Even now, the Buddha's mind still envelops and protects all who have a sincere heart. In his last life, his renouncing the world was also to realise the ideal of serving beings. His father, King Suddhodana, feared that he would abandon the palace to practise, and so gave him every pleasure. But the agitating pleasures of the world finally became tiresome. The Buddha was no longer happy when he understood that life outside was extremely complicated and full of suffering. We often hear this told in the parable of the Buddha passing through the four gates of the city and seeing birth, old age, sickness and death, and feeling uneasy in his heart. Because of his merit, he lived in a royal palace with every comfort, indulged by everyone. When he stepped outside, he understood the hardship and toil of the people. He was always troubled: what must be done so that people suffer no more?

It was precisely the motive of altruism that urged him to leave the palace and become a monastic. Not only now, but in countless previous lives, his whole life was for beings alone. If we had the eye of the Path, we would see the Buddha's past lives and our admiration would know no bounds. He could give up his life for others easily, could sacrifice a whole lifetime for everyone without ever regretting it. The accumulated practice of his love for people, with his altruistic life, is immeasurable and boundless. The Buddha is truly a great example of an altruistic life, one we must contemplate, reflect on, praise and admire.

Even arhats, who are often misunderstood as sunk in stillness and passive, living for themselves, are people with altruistic lives. We see that Sariputta and Moggallana lived very hard, toilsome lives because they cared for the Sangha and protected the Sangha. They attained arhatship but were not negative or passive in the least.

Once the Buddha met three venerable arhats living in a forest, living very quietly, and he praised the three for living only for the peace and happiness of devas and humans. Though their lives were very quiet, going on alms round by day and returning at night to sit motionless in meditation, and eventually they would enter Nirvana, even though they lived so quietly, the Buddha still praised them as living out of love for beings. This too is a wonder we cannot understand. Perhaps because the compassion of an arhat spreads so widely, even when he does nothing, in the invisible world countless beings still benefit.

Ananda had a truly wonderful altruistic life. He served the Buddha seriously, respectfully and attentively. It was because Ananda looked after things so thoroughly that the Buddha was not troubled much and had comfort in his daily life to go and teach. So through serving the Buddha, Ananda brought great benefit to beings. In meeting others, every word he spoke brought them benefit. Before he attained arhatship, he gave Dharma talks that enabled others to attain arhatship. His merit was truly great. He once asked the Buddha to allow women to be ordained. This too was great merit for beings. For, according to the view of the people of Asia, women have heavier karma than men. So opportunities had to be created for them to practise and exhaust their karma. Otherwise they would have no chance to increase their merit and good bonds.

After the Buddha's passing, Ananda attained arhatship and was admitted to the Pippala cave to recite the scriptures again. Later, Master Hsu Yun, once entering concentration and rising to the Tusita heaven, saw Ananda attending Maitreya Bodhisattva, supporting Maitreya Bodhisattva in his Dharma work. So he did not go away; he was still working for the benefit of beings.

Recently, a husband and wife from a Buddhist family came to the temple to take refuge. Afterwards, the mother, a Christian living in America, also returned and asked to take refuge. Asked the reason, that person said that his father, who had died at the age of sixty-eight, had somehow come back and spoken in the ear of a granddaughter, telling her everything. He spoke of worldly matters and matters of the underworld, very clearly. From then on, the mother, witnessing this, came to have faith in Buddhism and asked to take refuge. They asked the abbot to hold a ceremony of prayer for the deceased and a refuge ceremony for the family members. It is told that after the prayer ceremony, the man returned and again spoke in the granddaughter's ear to thank the one who had performed such a solemn ceremony for him. He also said that the spirits around him were very happy and had also come to congratulate him. From now on they would never come back home but would follow the Master and listen to the teachings, hoping to give rise to love for all beings. We do not have the eye of the Path to see this and do not know what is real and what is not; we know only that for someone to have faith and follow the Buddha in order to benefit others is very precious.

From the story of that Buddhist family, we see that abbots are only ordinary people, but because of their sincerity the prayer ceremony proved effective. So the story of the Buddha praising the three arhats is also easy to understand. The compassion of a realised one spreads and brings immense benefit to beings, especially the invisible world. The invisible world senses that mind far more strongly than we do. Sometimes we live near a saint and do not know it clearly, but those around us in the invisible world sense it very strongly. Thanks to that, they benefit greatly. We should understand that sometimes, outwardly quiet and doing little work, arhats in truth have a very altruistic life.

Recently, people often praise Mother Teresa, a Catholic nun. All her life she lived for the poor and the sick, and her example spread and influenced everyone. Very many people entered religious life following her, and likewise devoted their whole lives to easing the world's suffering. That is a very beautiful example, very worthy of esteem. By learning from her to live an altruistic life, many people also put an end to suffering. So the nuns who follow Mother Teresa are surely also very happy, very peaceful people, because they worry nothing for themselves, only for the sick and the poor. When she died, the whole world extolled and praised her, and some countries even flew flags at half-mast.

However, we already know that the root of suffering is selfishness, lack of ethics. To pull out the root of suffering for the world, we must lead people to have ethics. So, from the viewpoint of Buddhism, what she did, though very beautiful, did not truly "uproot" the root of suffering, because she did not place weight on the question of ethics. In Buddhism we have Venerable Hsu Yun, who spent his whole life for the Dharma, did not live in the temples he had completed and owned no property. Master Hsu Yun is a great example of altruism. His life was extremely simple. With ordinary scraps of robe and a few razors for shaving his head, he went from place to place doing the work of the Dharma and guiding beings. When he saw the people suffering, he found ways to help. When he saw two sides fighting, he urged them to stop the war. Where ancestral temples lay ruined, he found ways to restore and renovate them, rebuild the Sangha, keep discipline, and keep the precepts for teaching. He never went to live in a big temple. In his teaching he did not distinguish between practices. Meeting those who recited the Buddha's name, he taught reciting the Buddha's name. Meeting those who worked on the huatou, he taught the huatou. All his life, he lived like that. And he lived to more than a hundred and twenty years of age before passing away.

When mainland China was liberated by the Chinese Communist Party, he was in Hong Kong (Hương Cảng). At that time everyone feared for him, thinking that the Chinese communists did not believe in religion and would oppose and trouble him. Everyone advised him to stay in Hong Kong. But he refused, because at that time on the mainland he was the only senior elder. If he did not return, the monks and nuns would have no support and would be scattered. Though he knew he would meet great difficulty, he still left Hong Kong and returned to mainland China. Indeed, in the early period, because they did not yet understand or sympathise, the authorities caused him immense suffering. They sent soldiers to search the temples, jailed the monks and beat them so cruelly that several could not bear it and died. They also imprisoned and beat him, beating him almost to death. After beating him with wooden sticks they struck him with iron bars. Beating him until he fell from the bed to the floor was still not enough: five or seven soldiers in hobnailed boots trampled on him. His body was covered in blood and he looked pitiful. Yet he remained unperturbed, his heart without a trace of fear or resentment. After he recovered, the government in Beijing came to understand and invited him to establish the Buddhist Association. Though he held no important post, he stood there as the spiritual support for monks and nuns. Thanks to that, people were steady in their practice and kept the thread of the Path. He had supernormal powers and knew in advance of the disasters on returning to mainland China, but was still not afraid. He accepted them in order to keep a spiritual support for monks and nuns, and from that create conditions for the Dharma to develop. Master Hsu Yun's example of altruism is truly great. As monastics, we must strive to attain such a wonderful altruistic life.

To attain an altruistic life, whenever we do something let us ask ourselves: What did I leave home for? What am I bowing to the Buddha for? What am I eating, drinking and resting for? What am I going to school for? Seeing a fellow monastic, I ask myself what I should do, and so on.

By asking like this and answering ourselves, we will be able to keep watch over ourselves. We do the same work as everyone, but we should not think we do it for ourselves; we should think that we do it to bring great benefit to beings later. When we eat and drink, we also think it is to have the strength to take care of the Dharma work. When tired and lying down to rest, we stop thinking so that we may be healthy, and this health is to make offerings to the Three Jewels and to benefit this life greatly. Lofty ideals we may not be able to carry out, but in our thoughts we always think very holy, very altruistic things.

When we see beings and think of the world, we ask ourselves what we should do. For example, seeing Buddhism in decline, we should be troubled. We must recognise that it is precisely the way of life of monks and nuns that makes Buddhism weak. Monks and nuns must be proactive and have the strength to hold up when there are difficulties and obstacles. In reality, the reason that wherever Islam goes Buddhism weakens is that the vitality of Buddhism is weak. The main cause is that each of us does not have a strong altruistic mind. We still live too much for ourselves. For example, in Indonesia the Chinese Buddhist community is quite large. Thanks to them, Buddhism is present in that country. Yet today a group of Muslim terrorists is driving all the Chinese out of Indonesia. In the future Indonesia will have no Buddhism. Facing such a situation, what will we do? We must regularly ask ourselves such questions.

Or, seeing the world constantly in conflict, tearing at itself and always bringing insecurity, what can we do? If we are never troubled by such matters, we are people living selfishly. A person with an altruistic life can never be at peace and at ease. They always feel concern and see that they have a duty and responsibility to this life. That is truly a genuine Buddhist.

Let us honestly reproach ourselves whenever we see selfish thoughts arise in our minds. Building an altruistic heart and an altruistic life is very difficult and must pass through a long time. So we must strive to practise day by day.

For example, for a practitioner, selfishness is usually shown in the desire to have a lot of money, a big temple, fame and so on. Or when we see people around us fall into difficult circumstances and we turn a blind eye, our selfish mind naturally grows. When something unfortunate happens and we blame others, that too is an expression of a selfish life. Just take the blame upon ourselves, and we will have an altruistic life.

3. BEWARE BETWEEN IDEALS AND AMBITIONS

On ideals and ambitions, we studied in earlier lessons. Here, we explore only the relationship of ideals and ambitions to the altruistic life.

We should remember that doing meritorious deeds is not necessarily altruism. Behind those deeds there may still be a thought of seeking merit. And seeking merit is a thoroughly selfish attitude. Sometimes, seen from outside, meritorious deeds look altruistic, but selfishness is in fact growing in our minds. Many people go to the temple and bow to the Buddha very often, but only to pray for all kinds of good things for themselves. So the more they go to the temple, the more selfishness grows.

We need to distinguish between ideals and ambitions. People with ideals and people with ambitions share one point: both have great aspirations, great goals and great plans. It may be a plan to build a very large temple, to build the most imposing Buddhist university in Southeast Asia, or the dream of opening an orphanage to gather several hundred thousand orphans to raise, and so on. But among such aspirations and great plans, which are ideals and which are ambitions? We must understand that if it is truly for the Dharma and for beings, a person with such dreams and aspirations is a person living with an ideal. But if one does it hoping for something for oneself, fame and profit for example, that is ambition. In other words, the two have very similar points, but if it is for oneself it is ambition; if for others it is an ideal. So when we have dreams and great plans, we must carefully examine our mind to see whether it is for ourselves or for beings and the Dharma.

4. VIEWS ON HAPPINESS

We live in order to seek happiness. For to live without hope and without happiness is a meaningless life. But happiness is by nature very fragile and not easy to find. We must always hope that we will find happiness in this life. We hope like this so that we try to live, try to overcome hardships and difficulties, and overcome the harsh trials of life. When people no longer have hope, then life will make them collapse.

When small, living in our parents' arms, we hope that when we grow up we will succeed and have a life of wealth, fame and so on. The older we grow, the more people hope for this. Today is still hard, and people hope that in a few years life will be better and more comfortable. When near the end of life and no longer able to hope, they hope for the next life. Because of the hope of a happy life ahead, we overcome everything. That is, we live to seek happiness. It is the purpose, the great and fierce longing of human beings. Even the unfortunate, drifting and dragging themselves along the roadside begging for food, still love life dearly, and the hope for a bright tomorrow has not died in their hearts. If they were completely without hope, they would not prolong their lives in such suffering.

As disciples of the Buddha, we must have a clear view of happiness. We acknowledge that we live to seek happiness. But for a practitioner, what is happiness? Shall we seek happiness for ourselves, or shall we devote this life to seeking happiness for others? Asking that question once again, let us think it through thoroughly so as to live a life that is true to its meaning.

Clearly, a disciple of the Buddha must live an altruistic life, must live to seek happiness for others and not for himself. Perhaps in the past our lives had much suffering and uneasiness, and we too once hoped that one day we would live a happy life. But now we no longer hope for that. For us practitioners, the greatest happiness is to bring happiness to others.

So the important thing is: to bring happiness to others, what must we do? First, we must understand this: happiness comes from the altruistic mind and not from merit. This may sound a little contradictory, but thought through deeply, it is entirely right. For example, some people used to give generously and do meritorious deeds, so they gained a great deal of merit and in this life they have a wealthy life. But wealth is not necessarily happiness. We have read this very often in books about cause and effect. Having a lot of money and having happiness are two completely different concepts. Many people live on a pile of gold yet suffer immensely. They are better off than the poor only in having a comfortable material life; happiness still belongs to the realm of the mind.

A person who is materially poor but lives an altruistic life is still peaceful and happy, and also creates merit for the next life. So a person who has merit through an altruistic mind will be at peace in this life. But a person who has merit through a mind that sought merit in a previous life may be wealthy in this life but live uneasily. For a mind that seeks merit is a selfish mind. We need to be able to tell the two apart. True happiness still comes from the altruistic mind. We may not yet have done anything great; just by living altruistically we already find ourselves very happy because we are following the principle of the Buddha's Four Noble Truths.

So let us not waste time suggesting to ourselves that we are happy people, always wearing a peaceful, contented expression. Happiness does not come from suggestion; happiness comes from an altruistic life. We are often taught that as disciples of the Buddha we must be at ease and joyful, walk and stand with dignity, always have a smile on our lips, and keep a serene face and so on. In fact, that is a selfish way of life, thinking only of oneself. Let us not be concerned with that, and not suggest to ourselves that we are happy people. Let us be preoccupied and thoughtful in seeking happiness for everyone. We may always be busy and hurried, but because our mind is forever caring for others, suffering never reaches our mind. The words "at ease" (tự tại) sound carefree, but if we seek that only for ourselves, we are still ruled by selfishness. And when selfishness is present it brings suffering and uneasiness with it.

With an altruistic life, happiness gradually floods in, in ways we do not expect. After a lifetime of caring for others, at some point we naturally find our life overflowing with joy. But never stop there to enjoy it; keep on being concerned and caring for everyone. If we are self-satisfied with the happiness we have, it means we have begun to step back. If we only know how to enjoy happiness and joy, even if that joy was created by an earlier altruistic life, we have begun to fall back into a selfish way of life. Then we will not reach an altruistic life that is immeasurable and boundless. This is a very difficult and very subtle point of the mind, from which we must stay alert to escape. A Buddha attained the fruit of Buddhahood because his practices were limitless and boundless. He made merit endlessly and lived altruistically endlessly, never stopping to enjoy the joy.

A person practising the immeasurable, boundless bodhisattva perfections never knows how to stop and enjoy. It is the same for us: if we live an altruistic life, joy naturally appears in our mind, but we must never stop to enjoy that joy in the mind; let us keep on being concerned and caring for others.

5. THE RESPONSIBILITY OF A BUDDHA'S DISCIPLE WHEN HE SEES THAT THIS WORLD DOES NOT YET KNOW THE RIGHT DHARMA

In this world, those who know the Path are not many. Beside them, not a few have fallen into wrong views. They do not yet believe in cause and effect, do not yet believe in rebirth, and do not believe that there is an absolute Nirvana, the place of true liberation. Very many people in the world do not know this. So a disciple of the Buddha must never rest when he sees that the world does not yet understand the right Dharma. This is also the vow made at taking refuge. One day, kneeling before the Buddha's image, acknowledging ourselves as disciples of the Buddha, asking to rely on the Buddha and revere the Buddha, we must vow to bring the Dharma to everyone, from the family to society.

When lay followers take refuge, besides receiving and upholding the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts, they need to take the Seven Vows as well. We may have heard these seven vows, but they must be affirmed again at the refuge ceremony. The seven vows are arranged from low to high:

First: lay followers practise a vegetarian diet gradually, from a few days to many days.

Second: lay followers vow to study the teachings tirelessly. They may study directly from genuinely practising teachers, or from good recordings or good books, never tiring.

Third: lay followers must vow to bow to the Buddha and sit in meditation, because that is the carrying out of spiritual practice.

Fourth: lay followers must vow to be diligent all their lives in doing charitable work.

Fifth: lay followers vow to bring the Buddha's way into their families, so that all their relatives and kin know the Dharma, especially the children.

Sixth: lay followers vow to bring the right Dharma to those who do not yet know it, so that they may find peace and happiness in this life.

Seventh: lay followers vow to hold firmly to the Path in any difficult or hard circumstances.

These are the seven vows we must receive and uphold at taking refuge. They are not just vows; we must carry them out. A lay follower who on the first day of becoming a Buddha's disciple receives these seven vows will be very energetic, active and genuine. And if all lay followers were like that, we would see Buddhism change a great deal; it would be more active, more dynamic, and do more good for the world.

Some say that a person with compassion will be preoccupied with the needs of those around them. So while sitting in meditation, the preoccupation circles in the mind; how can one enter concentration? In fact, when sitting in meditation we must concentrate on gathering the mind. If we are still preoccupied at that time, how can we gain the experience of meditative concentration to teach others? In life we are preoccupied with many things, but when sitting in meditation we think only of practising so as to gain the experience to teach others. Thinking of others is also compassion, and this must rule us more strongly, so that we are no longer preoccupied with trivial matters.

Meditation means not thinking. In life we still have to worry about so many things. That too is what agitates our mind. If the agitation is selfish, we will be less and less able to enter concentration. But if the agitation in life is altruistic agitation, when we sit in meditation we will enter concentration more easily. An altruistic life will make our meditative concentration grow.

Speaking of the altruistic life, some people wonder how lay followers can clearly understand how to do merit with outflows and merit without outflows. "With outflows" means there are still traces of the cycle of rebirth; "without outflows" means going out of the cycle of rebirth. For example, when we give and make offerings, when we do all kinds of good for others while in our mind we still hope to enjoy merit, we have not left the cycle of rebirth; there are still traces of rebirth in that merit-making. But if we always make merit and always sacrifice for the lives of everyone, hoping that everyone attains awakening and liberation without seeking merit for ourselves, we have sown merit without outflows. Then no trace of rebirth remains in our merit-making.

We often see beside the statue of Shakyamuni Buddha the two figures Samantabhadra and Manjushri standing on either side, while beside the statue of Amitabha stand Avalokiteshvara and Mahasthamaprapta. Samantabhadra symbolises Practice and Manjushri symbolises Wisdom. Practice means ethics and Wisdom means insight. Wisdom illuminates ethics, and conversely ethics raises wisdom.

A person on the road to awakening must have Wisdom and Conduct. Manjushri symbolises illumination, while Samantabhadra symbolises action. To act, one must have the illumination of wisdom. Having action and experience in turn helps illumination to become clearer. As for Avalokiteshvara, he symbolises Great Compassion; Mahasthamaprapta symbolises Great Strength, courage and fearlessness. That is, to carry out the vow to save beings and to relieve people's suffering, we must have strength. Without bold courage, how could we plunge into the cycle of rebirth to rescue beings?

In life, sometimes we are very diligent and want very much to help people, but because our physical strength is weak and our nature is timid, we cannot carry it out. So to do the work of relieving the suffering of beings, we need to be stronger and have more mettle.

Some think that we must let go of all cares in order to recite the Buddha's name, because if we keep worrying about everyone, the mind will be scattered with wandering thoughts and cannot be pure. We should not think so. Keep caring for others, keep being scattered with wandering thoughts, and we will still be able to gather the mind, because we have lived an altruistic life. We must understand that whether we can gather the mind or not is due to merit. If we hold the view that we should let go of everything in order to practise for purity, then, if we are not careful, we will fall into a selfish way of life and will not be able to gather the mind.

A progressive Buddhism is one that is very diligent in practising meditation yet also very diligent in bringing benefit to everyone. Both are very important. As a disciple of the Buddha, we must be very diligent in practising meditative concentration and also very diligent in benefiting beings. If we want our practice of meditative concentration to bear fruit, we must be at ease in making merit and at ease in living for everyone. Merit is cause and effect "with its face hidden", with a very secret influence on our life. It is precisely that secret merit that helps our mind enter concentration. This too is a secret, which cannot be explained, but it is a principle that is very true, absolutely true.