"Generosity in the Land of the Individualist" by Ajahn Amaro

Welcome to Generous July! 

To introduce us to the Paramita Practice theme of Generosity for the month of July, here is an adaptation of a talk given by a great English monk of the Thai Theravadan Forest Monk tradition, Ajahn Amaro. 


Rugged Interdependency:  Generosity in the Land of the Individualist

Ajahn Amaro 

The Buddhist festival known as the Kathina revolves around the simple act of offering a piece of cloth to a monk or a nun. But it's really much more than that. What this ceremony symbolizes is the profound relationship between the two halves of the Buddhist community: the Sangha and lay society. In the Kathina, there is a recognition of the physical dependency of the monastics on their lay supporters.
In the U.S., the idea of consciously becoming dependent on others is anathema to us. This is the land of the rugged individualist, where we "don't need nothin' from nobody." We get out there and do it on our own. Plow the land. Build a house. Make our own world. The way people relate to those living on welfare, hand-outs, or begging illustrates society's view that dependence is a lower form of life. You have failed if you are on welfare. You are in a degraded state if you need help. Most people would probably agree that this is the national mindset.

So what on earth is this business of choosing to live on hand-outs for the rest of your life? The set up in the Buddhist tradition runs counter to the self-sufficient, rugged-individualistic mindset. People often say to us: "You mean you don't grow anything? You just live on what people give you?" They become puzzled or upset. These things need to be explained.

However it might be misconstrued by others, the Buddha himself was very clear about the value of monastics being physically dependent on the greater lay community. For one, religious figures often get put into a high position in society. They become invested with a lot of power and authority by people around them. Begging is a brilliant way of limiting that area of power and control. While you may be an extremely high and revered spiritual teacher, at the beginning of the day, your bowl is still empty. You have no money to buy what you want or to go where you like. There may be a lot of power and authority in some areas of your life, but there is zero in others. Physical dependence is a skillful way to keep the power given to religious figures under control and in balance.

We can also reflect on the four requisites as laid out by the Buddha: food, lodging, robes, and medicine. These are the basic supports for life. Because of our dependency, we reflect on the physical needs that we have and we learn to use frugally what we have been given. We reflect on being easy to support. Of course, these are not highly refined metaphysical reflections; they are much more basic. The monk is hungry; give him food. This one's cold; wrap some cloth around him. The relationship between the monastics and the lay community is built on that physical dependency. We are not able to ask for anything and therefore must rely entirely upon the quality of our lives. If our lives are useful and have meaning to the greater community, then the bits of cloth will show up. The food will arrive. And if our lives are not worthy, then it won't show up.

The Buddha was a genius in establishing this kind of contact. Simply to survive, the monastics must consciously and on a daily basis interact with the greater society. We can't depend upon ourselves. We can't live independently from you. We can't shut the door and say that you laypeople are not welcome to visit us "serious meditators." Our bodies are fueled by the food you offer us. In fact, scientists say that all the cells of the body are replaced every seven years, so any of us who has been ordained for that long now has a body that is completely donated.

Looking at our lives of dependency in this way, we start to relate to things in a different fashion. If it were not for the accumulated kindnesses, efforts, and good will of countless hundreds and thousands of people, this body would not be able to sustain itself. Kindness is the actual physical fabric of what we think of as "me." Monastics are made up of all those little potluck dishes you have offered to us. I find this a very beautiful and comforting thought.

In return, the monastic community endeavors to live life in a way that brings clarity of mind. Our intention is to live harmoniously and respectfully both within our community as well as within the greater world. We create and hold a space-a sacred space that encourages safety and freedom. Within this environment, the very best qualities of the human heart can be developed.

Not surprisingly, one of these qualities is that of generosity. The Buddha said, "If you knew the karmic results of giving, you wouldn't eat even one meal without sharing what you've got with somebody else." Ajahn Sumedho often adds: "Happiness is when you get what you want, but joy comes from giving." Perhaps this sounds like a line to get people to empty their pockets: "Giving is really good for you folks," as Jimmy Swaggert used to say. "The rattle of small change makes me nervous. Only folding money please."

And, of course, these kinds of teachings can be abused; however, the Buddha felt it was so important to establish "an economy of gifts" that he was prepared to be criticized on the one hand by the brahmins-who felt he had betrayed his class by forsaking his life as a noble prince and begging in the streets-and on the other hand by the samanas, the ascetic wanderers, who felt it was outrageous that the Buddha would sometimes accept offerings of fine food, expensive cloth, and grand dwelling places. The Buddha's reasoning on this latter point was that as long as an offering was not solicited and the nun or monk used it for supporting the practice of the holy life without attachment, it could be considered a pure offering.

Through practice, we can experience for ourselves that giving is so powerful because it is the most practical and direct method of counteracting selfishness. That which wants to hang on to something "for me" is a barricade blocking the door to liberation. "Me first" means "me last" to Nibbana. That which doesn't want to bother with other people and is concerned only with "my own" protection, "my own" comfort, "my own" preferences is the real problem.

In Asian countries, babies are taught when they are about six months old to put food into alms-bowls. The whole family applauds as the sticky rice drops from that little hand into the monk's bowl. The kid gets the idea early on: when stuff leaves your hand, you feel happy. It feels good to give.

But generosity is not just giving material things. It's giving one's time or attention. It's being in conversation and actually listening to what the other person is saying. How many of us can do that? That is a true form of giving. In giving our attention, we are giving our heart.

The Buddha talked about different ways of giving. There's what he might have called "cheapo" giving, which says, "I'm going to get rid of this anyway, so I might as well give it to you." Then there's the medium level of giving, which is sharing something that is valuable to you with others. However regal giving, or raja dana, is the most powerful form of giving. It is giving what is most precious to you. With all three forms, giving with an expectation of return is not giving at all. It's called cutting a deal. Deal-making does not bring particularly bright states of mind. It's more like a business transaction: "I'll stake this much and get back that much." Instead, giving should be done as the Christians recommend-without expecting anything in return. You are not giving in order to get; giving is a pure and unselfish act of kindness.

There is often a barrier to giving, though. When you think about giving away something that you like, questions come up: "Can I really afford this?" "Maybe I haven't got the time." We might have to exert some real effort to climb over these barriers of second thoughts, and this is not comfortable. There can be feelings of grief or pain when you give something to another person. But on the other side, there is a sigh of relief. Now we are in a space of freedom. When we make a gesture to go against self-centered habits, we feel delight.

The Buddha also made a clear reference to the fact that giving impersonally to the Sangha is of far greater karmic significance than giving to an individual, even if that person is a fully enlightened Buddha. In giving to an individual, we are still caught within the bounds of the idea of self. "This is me here giving to you there." That's the human tendency. Something in us wants to bond to a particular monk or teacher on a one-to-one basis. However, it's of far greater benefit to everyone to give from the heart whatever supports the Sangha and therefore all beings. By that very gesture, we have expanded our own heart beyond the personal, self-centered view.

It is in this way that the offering of the Kathina cloth-and all these other useful gifts for the monastery-is the most meritorious of all material offerings to the Sangha. The simple gesture of offering cloth is a way of manifesting the interdependence of our relationship. The monastics and the laypeople are a single, unified, whole community. What is given to us will be used and looked after. Your offerings will be helpful to the development of this monastery and to this way of life for years to come.

Adapted from a Dhamma talk given at Abhayagiri Monastery on the occasion of their first Kathina ceremony in October 1999.

Ajahn Amaro (born 1956) is a Theravadin teacher and was until recently co-abbot of the Abhayagiri Buddhist Monastery in California's Redwood Valley. The center, in practice as much for ordinary people as for monastics, is inspired by the Thai Forest Tradition and the teachings of the late Ajahn Chah. Its chief priorities are the teaching of Buddhist ethics, together with traditional concentration and insight meditation techniques, as an effective way of dissolving stress. Ajahn Amaro has recently accepted the position of Abbot at the wests first Thai Forest centre, Amaravati in the UK.
See: www.amaravati.org

                Announcing our Thrice yearly spotlight theme months!

We have decided that in order to propogate the non-sectarian spirit and encourage greater knowledge of the vastness of the Buddhist traditions, DWB will have a spotlight theme three months of the year; January, May and September.

This will be when we will focus on aspects of a Buddhist tradition or practice and also have the possibility for people to contribute their own experience of these themes.

Clearly these months will only give a taster of any practice or tradition, but it is our intention that this may serve as an encouragement for greater study and understanding of each others unique qualities as well as similarities. His Holiness Dalai Lama, on his recent visit to Australia, commented on the value of understanding the vastness of the entire Buddha-dharma traditions and the benefits of this knowledge.

We started the Spotlight theme months earlier this year with a focus on the Soto Zen tradition and we'll continue in September on the Theravada lineage as it has developed in the West with particular (though not exclusive) attention on the Burmese tradition of Mahasi Sayadaw and the Forest monk Thai lineage of Ajahn Chah. We heartily invite contributions from our regular bloggers as well as anyone who feels like sharing teachings or a relevant personal story (email; dharmawithoutborders@gmail.com) connected to these themes.



Next Spotlight theme month: September 2011

Spotlight theme: Theravada goes West

New Paramita practice section!

From the inspiration of Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche's general advice to many students, we have decided to have an ongoing monthly Paramita practice section which will serve as a reminder and guide for selected posts each month. Paramita is a sanskrit (or Pali; 'paramis') word meaning 'perfection', and it is taught that by practising the paramita's, dharma practitioners are able to realise their intention to liberate themselves and others from suffering.

Beginning in July, each of the 6 Paramita's (Generosity, ethics, patience, joyous effort, concentration, wisdom) will be the focus theme of many of the blog posts, starting with "Generosity" in July, followed by "Ethics" in August and so on.

This page will be the reference to remind us of the Paramita theme, which itself is an invitation to focus ones own practice around that particular paramita for that month. We hope this will also serve as a reminder of all Buddhist traditions shared practice values and how we can learn from each others distinct approaches to these profound practices. 

Any posts made about the Paramita's will be labelled by the blogger (i.e. "Generosity paramita") and this will make it available to view in the paramita section. Although a little cumbersome, we hope this will make it possible for other blog topics to be posted anytime, while keeping the paramita theme available for others to follow if they wish. Any blogger who wishes to do this will simply need to fill in the small box at the bottom of each post marked "label" with the appropriate monthly theme.

The Paramita's are universally acknowledged by all Buddhist lineages. In the Theravada tradition there is more focus on the idea of 10 paramita's, however it is generally accepted that the 6 paramita's serve as a valid representative of paramita practice in the Theravada also. To give some idea of this context Bikkhu Bodhi (2005) summarizes:

"It should be noted that in established Theravāda tradition the pāramīs are not regarded as a discipline peculiar to candidates for Buddhahood alone but as practices which must be fulfilled by all aspirants to enlightenment and deliverance, whether as Buddhas, paccekabuddhas, or disciples. What distinguishes the supreme bodhisattva from aspirants in the other two vehicles is the degree to which the pāramīs must be cultivated and the length of time they must be pursued. But the qualities themselves are universal requisites for deliverance, which all must fulfill to at least a minimal degree to merit the fruits of the liberating path."

The Future Of Buddhism - By Sogyal Rinpoche

The second in a series of conferences called ‘Buddhism in America’ was held in San Diego, California, in May 1998 and attracted an audience of Buddhist practitioners, teachers and scholars. Sogyal Rinpoche was invited to give a keynote address on the future of Buddhism:

Introduction
Speaking on the future of Buddhism, all I can do today is to offer some thoughts and aspirations based on my own experience and observations while teaching in the West over the past twenty-five years. What I say will inevitably have much to do with the Buddhist tradition of Tibet, and yet I hope that it will hold some interest or meaning for practitioners of any tradition.

I hasten to point out, to begin with, that I am just a practitioner, doing my best to practise, simply a student of the Dharma, who’s trying, by working with myself, with the help of the teachings and my masters, to become a better human being. Let me say how honoured I am to be invited to address this conference on Buddhism in America.

Jamyang Khyentse and Rimé
Thinking about the Buddhadharma and its future, my mind turns to my master Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö, who was a master of all the lineages of Tibetan Buddhism, and who passed away in exile in Sikkim in 1959. He was truly a leader, regarded by many as one of the greatest Tibetan masters of this century, the embodiment of Tibetan Buddhism, and a living proof of how someone who had realized the teachings would be. He was a master of masters, the teacher of many of the great Lamas who were to teach in the West, like Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Kalu Rinpoche, and Dezhung Rinpoche, yet he would treat everyone equally, rich or poor, high or low.

I often wonder whether the whole future of Tibetan Buddhism might not have been different had he lived longer, to inspire its growth in exile and in the West with the same authority and infinite respect for all traditions that had made him so beloved in Tibet.

Jamyang Khyentse had a vision. He was in fact the heir to the non-sectarian ‘Rimé’ movement which had swept through the eastern part of Tibet during the last century. This was a kind of spiritual renaissance, which rejected all forms of sectarian, partisan bias, encouraging each tradition to master completely the authentic teachings and practice of its own lineage, while at the same time maintaining a spirit of openness, harmony and co-operation with other Buddhist schools. There was no blurring or synthesis of one tradition with another—the purity of each was ensured—but they co-existed and often drew inspiration from one another.

I feel there is an intriguing parallel between the extra-ordinary richness of the spiritual culture of Tibet at the time of the great pioneers of this Rimé movement, like Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo and Jamgön Kongtrul, and the great variety of lineages we find in the West today. In some ways the Rimé vision offers a model of how the Dharma must continue in the West, and in America, with total respect for our separate authentic traditions, and yet with an eye to the creativity and resourcefulness of different branches of Buddhadharma as they have settled into the American landscape. We can all inspire, help, and network with one another, yet without confusion or inappropriate mixing of our traditions.

Jamyang Khyentse also saw that the Dharma would come to the West. In Tibet there had been many prophecies, from the time of Padmasambhava onwards, that this would occur, and Jamyang Khyentse spoke of it a number of times. He told the Tibetan master Tulku Urgyen in Sikkim, not long before he passed away: “From now on, the Buddhadharma will spread further, in the West.”

Looking now at the sheer impact of the Dharma already on the mainstream of western life, one can only marvel at the range of different areas of American culture which have been touched by Buddhist influence, and which are very familiar now to us all:

• the field of serving the dying and hospice care, an area very close to my own heart;
• mind/body medicine and healing;
• the world of psychology and therapy;
• the arts and education—we only have to think of the Naropa Institute;
• interfaith dialogue and ecumenical exchange;
• the life sciences;
• movements for peace and non-violence;
• right livelihood and ethics in business;
• ecology, and so on...
• and, not to forget, in the case of Tibetan Buddhism, Hollywood and the movie industry!

The various Buddhist lineages have established themselves in one way or another in America, and many wonderful expressions of Buddhist-inspired action have emerged, under the banner of 'Engaged Buddhism'. I think of Glassman Roshi’s Greyston Mandala, the Zen Hospice Project, the various initiatives in prisons, the work of Thich Nhat Hanh, and the Buddhist Peace Fellowship. I would like to celebrate them all, and I know how much Jamyang Khyentse—and all the masters of the Rimé tradition, if they were here—would have appreciated and applauded them.

Two Ways to Present the Dharma
In recent times, His Holiness the Dalai Lama has been pointing out that there are two ways to present the Dharma today. One is to offer the teachings, in the spirit of Buddhism, without any notion of exclusivity or conversion, but as openly and as widely as possible, to be of service to people everywhere, of any background or faith. Since the heart of the Buddhadharma, the essential View, is so very practical, simple and yet profound, it can enrich and deepen anyone’s understanding, regardless of what spiritual path he or she might follow.

The second way is to present the teachings for those who have a serious intention of wanting to follow the Dharma, so that they can pursue a complete and thorough path, in whichever tradition.

What’s the relationship between these two? The first cannot happen without the second. We must never forget that the uniqueness and great strength of the Dharma is that it is a complete spiritual path, with a pure, living, lineage, unbroken to this day, and if we lose that, we have lost everything.

I see the Dalai Lama’s statement as a blueprint for us all in the 21st century, and crucial for the survival of authentic Buddhism.

Some Concerns
How will Buddhism in the future find the way to make its fullest contribution towards the transformation of society? And yet how can we avoid it being absorbed and neutralized by its encounter with the contemporary world, so that it is reduced to yet another tool to numb us, conscripted and ‘integrated’ into western society, to become simply an interesting offshoot of psychology, a branch of the New Age, or part of the health movement? Many of the Tibetan masters I know today have the same concerns and are asking themselves the same questions as western Buddhists, as we pass through this period of transition together. They also have concerns of their own. They see a number of warning signs for the future.

When we see Buddhist images on advertising hoardings, in Hollywood films and as icons of the chic, it is a testimony to the popularity of Buddhism, which can be gratifying, even exhilarating—but at the same time chilling. Because where will the popularity of Buddhism lead? Are we witnessing the conversion of Buddhism into a product, something which is quick and easy to master, and which ignores the patient discipline and application that is really needed on the Buddhist path, like on any other spiritual path? Then what are the dangers of trying to make Buddhism too palatable for American tastes and fashions, so that we are subtly editing or re-writing the teachings of Buddha? Is there a risk of Buddhism being ‘sold’ too hard, and being too pushy, even evangelical? Commercial-style grasping seems foreign to Buddhism, where the emphasis has always been on examining ourselves. Driven by our compulsive desire for something ‘new’, what will be the long term result of seeking to put a little bit of knowledge into action too soon: rushing in too early, only in order to be productive? My feeling, and that of the masters I know, is that practicality should never take priority over the authenticity of the teachings.

Reproduced from 'The Future of Buddhism' by Sogyal Rinpoche  Rider Books, Ebury Press.

Sogyal Rinpoche - born in 1947, Rinpoche is a Tibetan Lama of the Nyingma tradition. He has been teaching for over 30 years and continues to travel widely in Europe, America, Australia and Asia.  He is also the founder and spiritual director of Rigpa—an international network of over 100 Buddhist centres and groups in 23 countries around the world—and the author of the best-selling book The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, which has been printed in 30 languages and 56 countries.For more information visit: www.rigpa.org