Friday, April 29, 2011

Instruction from Venerable Thanissaro Bhikkhu

The damages, distortions, and dangers of dana talk. The below is one of the clearest and purest pieces I have read on the corruption of the practice of dana or generosity. I have been fortunate indeed to train under similarly pure Masters as those of Thanissaro Bhikkhu. My late Teacher Sermey Khensur Lobsang Tharchin  Rinpoche was impeccable in his refusal to ever use the dana talk described in the piece at the link below. Nor did he ever utter or write the words, or allow their use at his center: suggested donation, or other similar euphemisms. Nor did he favor those who were able to lavish him with gifts or donations. Nor did he ever hint at wanting this or that item made or bought for him or his center. 

If he asked for any item from his sometimes penniless followers  (who at times preferred emphasizing practice and study to getting the big time careers) he would first place more than enough money to cover the cost on the table saying, "If you don't let me pay I won't feel comfortable asking you to run errands for me." As a result, followers were utterly inspired by his generosity and consummate consideration for their personal situations, resources, and time, and because of that strove to develop those qualities in themselves. 

Once he was offered an entire estate and he told the donor, "No thanks, I have a good room." He could have accepted  it and turned it into a center, some may think, or given it to someone else. That he elected not to, however, is worth reflecting on.

Other Masters under whom I have been fortunate to train also maintain the correct dana ethic purely.

Because of their impeccable example and refusal to revert to any form of Dharma marketing, I am encouraged that pure forms of Dharma, that is, forms that accord with the Buddha's own teachings, which can be read about in the early suttas relating to dana, still exist in the world today.

Indeed what often accompanies dana talk is the frightening and off-putting attitude of entitlement that is exhibited by what Thanissaro Bhikkhu might describe as run-of-the mill organizations or followers, lay or ordained. 

Upon close scrutiny, I have found this attitude in myself to be closely linked with a number of other mental afflictions, such as ignorance of karmic cause and effect, pride, and lack of faith in karmic cause and effect, to name but three.

The truth is that there are no temporal or cultural restrictions on mental afflictions such as ignorance, pride, and acquisitiveness. These bear the same distinguishing features now as in the Buddha's time and culture. This fact is part of what makes the Buddha's teachings so  universal and relevant even now.

Unfortunate is the confusion among many when they feel the need to put some science fiction spin on entitlement behavior, often mislabeling it "skillful means," being as they are unable to distinguish the faults therein from what is clearly outlined in the Buddha's teachings. 

Those who are not educated in the Buddha's teachings,  who are not discerning with respect to what constitutes ethical conduct, and who are not curious to learn about or research the many available materials from the Pali suttas and elsewhere, often end up doing what Thanissaro Bhikkhu describes in the last line of the excerpt below.
 

Below is the beginning portion from the link above:

No Strings Attached
The Buddha's Culture of Generosity
by
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
“How can I ever repay you for your teaching?”

Good meditation teachers often hear this question from their students, and the best answer I know for it is one that my teacher, Ajaan Fuang, gave every time: 

“By being intent on practicing.”

Each time he gave this answer, I was struck by how noble and gracious it was. And it wasn't just a formality. He never tried to find opportunities to pressure his students for donations. Even when our monastery was poor, he never acted poor, never tried to take advantage of their gratitude and trust. This was a refreshing change from some of my previous experiences with run-of-the-mill village and city monks who were quick to drop hints about their need for donations from even stray or casual visitors.

Eventually I learned that Ajaan Fuang's behavior is common throughout the Forest Tradition. It's based on a passage in the Pali Canon where the Buddha on his deathbed states that the highest homage to him is not material homage, but the homage of practicing the Dhamma in accordance with the Dhamma. In other words, the best way to repay a teacher is to take the Dhamma to heart and to practice it in a way that fulfills his or her compassionate purpose in teaching it. I was proud to be part of a tradition where the inner wealth of this noble idea was actually lived — where, as Ajaan Fuang often put it, we weren't reduced to hirelings, and the act of teaching the Dhamma was purely a gift.

So I was saddened when, on my return to America, I had my first encounters with the dana talk: the talk on giving and generosity that often comes at the end of a retreat. The context of the talk — and often the content — makes clear that it's not a disinterested exercise. It's aimed at generating gifts for the teacher or the organization sponsoring the retreat, and it places the burden of responsibility on the retreatants to ensure that future retreats can occur. The language of the talk is often smooth and encouraging, but when contrasted with Ajaan Fuang's answer, I found the sheer fact of the talk ill-mannered and demeaning. If the organizers and teachers really trusted the retreatants' good-heartedness, they wouldn't be giving the talk at all. To make matters worse, the typical dana talk — along with its companion, the meditation-center fundraising letter — often cites the example of how monks and nuns are supported in Asia as justification for how dana is treated here in the West. But they're taking as their example the worst of the monks, and not the best.