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The
world of love is wide and expansive. We do not only love our
parents, friends, or countries; we may also love many other things.
Some people love plants and flowers; others love their pets. Some
other people love to collect mineral rocks, stamps, or matchboxes,
and they derive a lot of joy from their collections. It is just as
natural to love sentient beings with whom we can share our emotions
as it is to love insentient things that do not understand our
emotions.
Very
often, we hear people raise this question: Where do we come from?
The sutras tell us that we human beings arise out of love; in fact,
it is said in the sutras, "When one's love is not strong, one
will not be born into the saha world." In Buddhist literature,
human beings are referred to as sentient beings. Love is the
source of life and our existence represents a continuum of love and
affection.
While
some kinds of love are "healthy," others are
"unhealthy"; some are "giving," others are
"possessive." What is love? Love has its pluses and
minuses. From the perspective of its pluses, love gives us the
strength to make sacrifices, to give, to encourage, and to be
compassionate. [Love is like a roadmap; it gives life direction and
a clear visibility of life's destination. Love is like a blanket; it
provides us with warmth and security. Love is like a box of
chocolates; it is sweet and full of surprises.] From the perspective
of its minuses, love is like a piece of rope; it can be binding and
restrictive. Love is like a lock; it can shackle us and make us
restless. Love can be blinding; it can keep us in the dark without
us even aware of it. Love is like the honey on a sharp blade; it can
entice us to lick the blade, even at the risk of cutting our tongues
and risking our lives. Love can be like a sea of suffering; its
turbulent tall waves can trap us in its depths.
We
all want to be loved by others. Others go a step further and want to
share their love with the many that their lives touch. Regardless if
we love or are loved by others, we have to be watchful that our love
does not turn sour. Love and hate are inseparable, one shadowing the
other. If we do not love properly, if we do not expand our love to
all, and if we do not elevate our love [for a few] to compassion for
all, love can turn into hate. Today, I'd like to discuss with you
four different levels of love and affection.
I.
Everyday Love
[Everyday
love is also most basic and common. This includes love between a man
and a woman, between a parent and a child, among family members, and
between friends. While love can be blissful, there are times when
love can hurt. While most of us know or long for the joys of love,
we may not understand why love can cause us so much pain. Because of
this, I believe it is more useful if we spend the next few minutes
talking about the latter.] When love is parochial, finite in
capacity, and limited in scope, it often becomes possessive and
clinging in nature. There are three main situations when love causes
us problems:
A.
When the object of our love is inappro-priate
It
is human nature to love someone with whom we feel a special
affinity, but when the object of our love is inappropriate, our love
can bring us many headaches. When we love someone who is spoken for
or is married to another person, our love is destined for troubles.
It takes two to love; when we love someone who has no feeling for
us, it is like banging our head against the wall. Depending on the
object of our love, we should also moderate our intensity
accordingly. If not, problems will ensue.
B.
When our perspective of love is inappro-priate
[One
of the most common, though faulty, perspectives of love is to view
love as some kind of trade.] Some people believe that, because of
their personal wealth, they can buy love. Others dare not love
others who are more affluent that they are. Some other people would
not consider falling into love with someone without first
considering that person's looks, education, profession, or how
wealthy his or her family is. In these instances, love is looked at
as a kind of trade; this is an erroneous perspective of love. True
love does not speak of requirements and prerequisites; true love is
about giving.
C.
When the manner in which we love is in-appropriate
Some
people only love themselves and have little regard for how others
feel. In their continual pursuit of personal enjoyment, some even
engage in extra-marital affairs. Others let their own emotions cloud
their judgement; they become partial to people they love and overly
critical of others they dislike. Sometimes, love is like a pair of
colored glasses, preventing us from seeing the true face of those we
love. No wonder we say that love is blind. There is a common Chinese
saying which we can use as our guide, "Know the ills of those
we love and the goodness of those we dislike." When we love
properly, love brings out the best in each one of us.
While
the excessive love of a parent for his or her child can spoil the
child and ruin the child's life, the love of a parent, when in
moderation, can give enormous support for the child and help the
child grow up well. I still remember some twenty years ago, when
Venerable Tzu Chuang decided to renounce the household life to
become a monastic, her parents came to witness the ordination
ceremony. With tears in their eyes, they gave her a warm smile. Why
were they both happy and sad? Although it is quite common now for
young college graduates to enter the monastic life, it was quite
unusual at that time. On the one hand, her parents wanted to spend
the rest of their lives with their child; on the other hand, they
recognized their daughter's love and dedication to the Dharma. Their
tears, as well as their smiles, left a strong impression in my
memory.
At
this point, you may think that there is no room in Buddhism for the
kind of love that exists between a man and a woman, or between a
husband and wife. This is not the case at all. Buddhism does not
disapprove of wholesome love between a man and a woman; what
Buddhism disapproves of is love that is unhealthy and unsound. It is
unfortunate when love becomes the cause of problems and heartbreaks.
When I read in the newspaper about the many alarming stories of
love-driven assaults or even homicides, I cannot help but lament how
tragic it is not to love properly.
Love
is about giving; even if we cannot make huge sacrifices for our
loved ones, the least we can do is not to hurt them. In the Documentary
of the Warring Period, Yueh Yi once said, "When a gentleman
breaks off a friendship, he does not speak ill of the other party.
When a patriotic official is asked to leave the emperor's court, he
does not try to clear his name." Similarly, while most people
would like to see their romance develop into marital bliss, it is
important to know how to handle a relationship when it fails. When
friends part ways, they should do so amiably and not bear a grudge
against the other party. How can one make an enemy out of someone
whom one has once loved? To defame or destroy another person just
because of a failed relationship is so unnecessary.
Some
people describe how people love this way: Young people love with
their words, middle-aged adults love with their actions, and elder
people love with their hearts. What this means is that how we love
matures with age. Likewise, our love also evolves as we grow in
spiritual maturity. From loving ourselves, our love grows to loving
our families and to loving the entire human race.
II.
Heroic Love
What
kind of love is heroic—remarkable and extraordinary? How does it
differ from the everyday love we talked about in the previous
section? I am going to give a few examples here to help us answer
these questions.
A.
Selfless love for the country
Ta
Yu was a well-known virtuous man of ancient China. During that time,
there was a major flood, and many people lost their farms and homes.
The emperor assigned Yu to see what could be done to divert the
river water and alleviate the floods. Thirteen years he was away
from home, supervising the project. He was so dedicated to finishing
the project and thus relieving his fellow countrypeople of further
pain that, during these thirteen years, three times he passed his
house and three times he did not stop to visit with his family. In
his love for his country and fellow countrypeople, there was little
time for himself and his family. Such selfless love for the country
is a very good example for all of us to emulate.
During
the Warring Period in ancient China, there was a government official
by the name of Chiu Yuan. He was very patriotic and was very trusted
by then Emperor Chu Hwai. When some of the corrupt officials began
to see themselves losing ground to Chiu Yuan, they began to spread
rumors about Chiu Yuan. Unfortunately, the emperor believed the
rumors and distanced himself from Chiu Yuan, finally dispatching him
to a far-away post. Even then, Chiu Yuan loved his emperor and
maintained high hopes that his country would not fall into the hands
of these corrupt officials. He would rather give his life in
patriotism than to kow-tow to the plans of the political parasites.
When he was ordered by the emperor to implement a policy put forward
by the corrupt officials or to face death, he chose death. He jumped
into Mi-low Lake and took his own life. Since the villagers could
not recover his body, they rowed about the lake in boats and made
loud noises with their drums so that the fishes would be scared away
and not feed on his body. In fact, this is the beginning of the
Dragon Boat Festival. From many of the letters left behind by Chiu
Yuan, we can see his steadfast love for his country. He would rather
give his own life than to watch helplessly his country on the
decline. This is another example of selfless patriotic love for the
country.
During
the later years of Sung dynasty, China was divided into Northern
Sung and Southern Sung. When the poet Lu Fang-weng lay dying on his
death-bed, he told his sons, "As I lay dying, I should know
that all phenomena are empty; however, I grieved I did not see the
unification of the nine states. On the day General Hwang reclaims
the north, please do not forget to tell me the news when you make
your ancestral offerings." This kind of love for the country is
another example of remarkable love.
B.
Selfless love for others
One
of the Buddha's cousins was a general by the name of Mahanaman. He
was responsible for guarding the city of Kapilavastu. When the city
was attacked and was about to fall into the hands of the enemies, he
pleaded with the other general, "Please do not kill my
countrypeople. But if you have to, can you please wait until I
resurface after jumping down to the bottom of the river." The
other general was none other than the fierce King Virudhaka. He
looked at Mahanaman and answered, "As it is, you and your
countrypeople have no escape but to die. Alright, I am going to
grant you your last wish." Mahanaman then jumped into the river
and disappeared. A long time passed and he still did not float back
up. Virudhaka was getting impatient and sent his people to the
bottom of the river to find out what happened. They found Mahanaman
at the bottom of the river with his hair tied to a tree root. In
giving his life, he bought some time for his fellow countrypeople to
escape out of the city. This kind of willingness to sacrifice
oneself for others is a form of fearless love. It is, indeed,
extraordinary love.
C.
Selfless love for the Dharma
Within
Chinese Buddhism, we have all heard of Master Hsuan-tsang. He was
also referred to as the "Confucius of Chinese Buddhism."
Master Hsuan-tsang was remembered for his determination to go to
India to learn about Buddhism and bring sutras back to China. To do
this, he had to cross over eight hundred miles of desert. One day
while in the desert, the water that he and his entourage were
carrying suddenly all spilled out. The situation was really grim
because there was little chance they could cross the desert without
water. Under the fierce sun and with dying thirst, he made this very
famous vow: "I would rather die trying to take the last step
westward than try to make it back east alive." This fervor for
truth is also a form of remarkable love.
If
you look at how the Japanese live, eat, and dress, you will see that
there is a heavy flavor of Chinese influence. Who was the first to
introduce Chinese culture to Japan? To this, we have to credit
Venerable Chien-chen of the Tang dynasty. He was a forefather of the
area of Yangchou, where I grew up. In order to realize his dream of
going to Japan to spread the Dharma, he tried to cross the sea to
Japan on seven different occasions and over a twelve-year period.
One time, he was stopped by government officials; another time, he
was robbed clean by bandits. On another trial, he had to turn back
because of bad weather and turbulent seas. There was even one time
when he was sold out by one of his disciples. After six difficult
attempts, he finally arrived in Japan at the age of sixty, blinded
in both eyes. Even with all these hardships, his resolve of
spreading the Dharma in Japan remained unshaken. He also made this
moving remark about his experience: "What is the risking of
life in the face of great undertakings?" He did not hesitate to
give up his life for the chance of spreading the Dharma. His
compassion of spreading the truth to all was a remarkable love for
others.
D.
To love one's parents to the best of one's abilities
The
Buddha's disciple, Maudgalyayana, was a filial son. After his mother
passed away, he learned with his supernatural powers that his mother
was suffering in hell. His love for his mother was so great that he
did not hesitate to go to hell to help console his mother in her
suffering. His dedication to his mother so moved the Buddha that the
Buddha told him only the united efforts of the whole Sangha could
alleviate his mother's suffering. This is the beginning of Ullambana.
In this way, not only was he able to save his mother, many others
are able to help their deceased relatives. This form of filial
behavior is the direct transformation of a remarkable love.
Ch'an
Master Tao-chi of North Chi dynasty was another example of a filial
son. When he traveled about spreading the Dharma, he carried his
books and mother in baskets suspended from a bamboo pole set across
his shoulders. When others offered him a hand, he would politely
decline and say, "This is my mother who gave me life and raised
me. I should be the one to take care of her." Chen Tzun-su of
Tang dynasty was a very accomplished Ch'an master. He was also very
attentive to his mother. He earned his living by mending shoes;
thus, he was also called Chen the Shoesmith.
There
are many other examples of selfless love for one's parents. Filial
love is a true and pure form of emotions; it is also a manifestation
of what extraordinary love is.
E.
To love one's students like oneself
The
following examples serve to show how past masters loved their
students and followers. To teach and train their students, they used
varying methods and seized every opportunity possible. With love and
dedication, the bond between a teacher and his students was forever
sealed.
It
was recorded in Lun-U how heart-broken Confucius was when he
learned of the death of his student, Yen Hwei. He wailed and said
repeatedly, "The heavens have let me down!" His tears
fully captured his feelings for his students. He was saddened by the
premature death of his student; he grieved at the loss of someone
with great potential. His love for his student was most
compassionate and remarkable.
Milaraspa
traveled far and wide looking for a teacher. After extensive search
and travels, Milaraspa finally found Marpa to be his Dharma teacher.
His teacher asked him, "You said you want to call me your
teacher. Let me ask you what you have to offer me?"
Milaraspa
prostrated respectfully and said, "I am going to offer you all
that I engage in my actions, speech, and thought."
With
this, Marpa agreed to accept him as his disciple. One day, Marpa
told Milaraspa, "You are a strong young man. I want you to
build me a stone house so that I can store all my sutras. Once it is
completed, I will teach you the Dharma."
Milaraspa
was most delighted. When he asked his teacher for a sketch of what
he wanted, his teacher told him, "I want you to go to the tip
of the east face of the mountain and build me a circular house. The
roads are steep and treacherous, but your hard work can help you
burn off your bad karma."
Milaraspa
worked day in and day out. When it was about half finished, his
teacher came up the mountain. He took off his half-moon shaped
topcoat, folded it a few times and left it on the floor. He then
turned toward Milaraspa and said, "This does not look like a
good spot. I want you to take the house apart and move to the west
face of the mountain. I want you to build me a house that looks like
this garment here."
Frustrated
and speechless, he complied. When he was about half-way done, his
teacher again came up the mountain and said, "The house still
does not look right. I want you to take this apart and move all the
materials to the north face of the mountain. There I want you to
build me a triangular-shaped house to symbolize what a true
cultivator I am."
Milaraspa
again followed his teacher's direction. Rain or shine, he worked
non-stop, hoping to finish the house. It was about a third completed
when his teacher came up the mountain and asked him, "Who told
you to build this house?"
Nervously,
Milaraspa replied, "You personally asked me to build you this
house."
The
teacher looked puzzled. Scratching his head, he said, "Oh! I
can't really recall anything like this. Why would I ask you to build
me a triangular-shaped house at this poor location? It looks like
the type of altar used by cults. Do you want to do me harm? Take it
apart! Take it apart! I want you to go to the south side and build
me a square-shaped house. I want it to be nine stories tall, on top
of which is one more floor for storage, for a total of ten stories.
Once it is completed, I will teach you the Dharma!"
Just
with a few words, all of Milaraspa's efforts were washed down the
drain. In this way, building and de-constructing, many months and
years passed. He was exhausted and physically beat. Some of his
fellow students could not bear to see him suffer alone and so
offered to help him move tiles and bricks. When the teacher found
out, he exploded and scolded Milaraspa, "I asked you to
build me a house. Did I say that you can ask others for help? Why
are you so lazy and ask others for help?" His teacher did not
only yell at him, he also gave him a few blows with a club. When he
could no longer bear the pain, he let out a little squeal. Instead
of comforting him, the teacher continued to reprimand him, "Why
are you crying? When you first came and wanted to be my student, did
you not say that you wanted to offer me all your actions, speech,
and thought. I am just striking what is mine, and I am only yelling
at what is mine. What is there for you to cry about?"
What
Milaraspa had to endure is beyond our imagination; he tacitly
accepted all kinds of hardships. After a few years, Milaraspa
attained enlightenment and became an arhat. On the night that he
attained enlightenment, his teacher embraced him crying, "When
I first saw you, I realized you were one of those rare individuals
with great potential. This is why I had to put you through the
toughest tests so that you may soon attain enlightenment. When I
reprimanded you, hit you, and was just outright unreasonable toward
you, my heart ached with pain. But when I thought about the good it
would do you in the future, I just have to hide my pain and continue
to task you." What looked unreasonable on the surface was in
fact a teacher's love for his students. It was his way to groom his
student for greatness.
When
I entered monkhood many years ago as a young man, I was lucky enough
to be educated in a similar fashion. On the day when we entered the
hall to be ordained, all the precept masters were seated in a row. I
remember the precept master asking us sternly, "Today, you are
here to be ordained. Are you coming here today because you want to
or because your teacher wants you to?"
Someone
immediately answered, "It is my desire to come here today to be
ordained."
When
the precept master heard his reply, he took up his rattan stick and
began beating this student. Afterwards, he said, "How dare you
come here without being asked by your teacher!"
It
was another precept master's turn; he asked us the same question,
"Are you here today because you want to or because you were
asked to?"
The
other students saw what happened earlier, so one of them got smart.
He stood up and said carefully, "Please be patient with me, I
am here today because my teacher asked me to come."
He
thought he was very clever; instead his answer did not put him in
any better light. The precept master gave him a beating and said,
"If your teacher had not ask you to come, does it mean that you
would not be here today?"
Upon
reflection, the precept master did have a point. Did we have to be
asked to come to be ordained? Did we not have the commitment to
enter monkhood on our own? Next, it was another precept master's
turn. Like the two before him, he asked us the same question. With
both experiences behind us, we thought we knew better. One of us
said, "My teacher did tell me to come to be ordained, but I
myself also want to come." He thought that such an answer could
not go wrong. He could never have guessed that his answer would also
bring him the same punishment as the two other students before him.
After the punishment, the precept master said, "You are too
smooth."
Next,
we were told to appear before another precept master. This time, the
question was quite different. The precept master asked, "Have
you ever violated the precept of killing?" Now, killing is a
very serious offense, so we all shook our heads and said, "No,
we have never violated the precept of killing."
The
precept master then said, "Impossible! Are you telling me that
you have never swatted a fly or stepped on an ant before? It is
obvious that all of you are lying." With this, the precept
master gave each one of us a few strokes. I guessed he was right. We
were not telling the whole truth, and we deserved to be punished.
Then, another precept master asked us if we had violated the precept
of killing. This time we replied, "Yes teacher, we have
violated the precept of killing."
"This
is violation of the precepts and calls for punishment." With
these words, the precept master gave each one of us a few strokes
with a whip. As the day progressed, we did not want to answer any
questions put before us. Helplessly, we just said, "Teacher, if
you want to punish us, please do so."
On
the surface, this form of teaching method looks ridiculous and
unreasonable. As it turned out, what our teachers wanted to do was
use unreasonableness to teach us to let go of our reasoning
intellect and to use feelinglessness to teach us how to deal with
our emotions. If we could surrender ourselves in the face of
unreasonableness and feelinglessness, then would we not be more apt
to accept the truth? Their demonstration of unreasonableness and
feelinglessness was, in fact, a tool to teach us to let go of our
stubborn delusions. It was out of compassion that our teachers were
so unfeeling. Looking back, I was indeed very lucky to have the
opportunity to be trained under the old school. The training was
tough and painful, but without pain, how could there be greatness?
If we were not to throw iron scraps into the smelter, how could we
get steel? The stringent test we had to go through was a blessing.
When I look at the youths of today, I do feel sorry for them. They
do not have the opportunity to be so tested; the education of today
does not instill in our youths the spirit of toughness and
endurance. Discipline, when coupled with compassion and remarkable
love, is a means for teachers to truly prepare their students for
greatness in the future.
III.
Enlightened Love
There
are many levels of love. When we extend our love from loving our
spouse to loving our siblings, to loving our relatives and friends,
to loving our neighbors, our fellow countrypeople, all animals, and
to all sentient beings, our love also matures. In this way, basic
love first transforms into heroic love, which further matures into
enlightened love.
A
lot of us have heard about Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. Before he became
a bodhisattva, he cultivated at the hills of Chiu-hua in An-hwei.
This was a region of very steep hills and few people. At that time,
there was a young boy living with him. One day, this youngster could
no longer bear to live in such isolation, so he asked to leave the
temple and go back down to the village below. Ksitigarbha escorted
the youngster down the mountain and offered him a poem as a parting
gift. From the sentiments of the poem, we can see the transcendental
love that bodhisattvas have for us. The poem goes like this:
Within the quiet gates of this temple you long for your family;
As you descend the mountain, you say goodbye to this temple in the
clouds.
You love to ride bamboo horses within bamboo fences
Rather than collect gold sand in this land of gold.
Do not try to pick up the moon in the water while filling the vase;
Or try to play with the flowers in the water while washing the basin
in the pond.
Go, and do not shed a tear for me;
This old man has the clouds in the sky to keep him company.
In
the first stanza, Ksitigarbha captured the feeling of the youngster:
how lonely he was within the gates of the quiet temple and why he
wanted to return to his home in the village. In the second stanza,
Ksitigarbha cautioned him what he was giving up in his leaving the
temple. He described the little boy's desire of wanting to ride
bamboo horses and play games rather than cultivate within the walls
of the temple. In the third stanza, Ksitigarbha left words of advice
for the youngster to keep in mind. He told the little boy that when
he took a vase to go to the river to fill it up with water, he would
see the reflection of the moon in the water. He warned the boy not
to try to pick up the moon in the water for it was just a
reflection. Life in the world is illusive, too. Ksitigarbha also
told the boy that he when he washed the basin in the pond, he should
be careful not to mistake the reflections of trees and flowers in
the water as a flowery world in the pond. In the fourth stanza,
Ksitigarbha comforted the youngster so that he would not feel guilty
about leaving him. He told him to go and do not feel sorry for him.
Although he, Ksitigarbha himself, lived in the quiet temple on the
mountain, he could still find company in the fleeting fog and the
floating clouds of the sky.
From
this poem, we can see the love and affection bodhisattvas and arhats
have for us. The feelings Ksitigarbha had for the little boy is
multi-dimensional. He knew how the little boy felt, provided him
with guidance, and even comforted him. Each word was superbly chosen
and rich in meaning.
When
Venerable Dao-chi of Tang dynasty was the abbot of the Fu-kan Temple
in Yi-chou, he opened the temple to many lepers, many of whom had
open stenchful sores. Venerable Dao-chi was not at all put off by
their condition; he even lived and ate with them. He also dressed
their sores and helped them with their baths. Some of his disciples
made excuses and tried to keep their distance from the lepers.
Finally, someone asked the Venerable, "Venerable, you spend
time with the lepers everyday. Are you not afraid that you will also
become infected?"
Venerable
Dao-chi smiled gently and said, "What we call clean or dirty is
the result of our discriminating mind. If we do not have any
dislikes in our minds, how can aversions arise? When our mind is
pure, everything and everywhere is pure. If a monk like myself
cannot even let go of this bit of delusion and let compassion arise
in its place, I should be ashamed of myself for not living in
accordance with the Dharma."
Such
is the love of arhats and bodhisattvas. Their love is embracive,
their compassion knows no discrimination, and their view of self and
others is rooted in equality.
Maha-Kasyapa
was one the Buddha's great disciples. He was also an arhat.
Maha-Kasyapa's parents, who were very affluent, wanted him to get
married. Getting married was really not in Maha-Kasyapa's plans, for
he wanted to dedicate his life to Buddhist cultivation. After being
repeatedly pressured by his parents, he had no choice but to appease
his parents. In order to buy some time, he asked a goldsmith to
sculpt a statue of a beautiful young maiden. He took the sculpture
to his parents and told them that he would marry only if he could
find someone as elegant as the gold sculpture. In order to get his
son to marry, his parents had no choice but asked a few servants to
carry the sculpture around the country looking for someone that
could match its beauty. The servants first spread words that the
golden statue was really an image of a deva and would bring good
luck to all young maidens who would come to pay her respect. This
way, all young maidens got wind of this wonderful statue, and they
all came forward to pay their respects. Among the many who came,
there was one who was so striking in her beauty that the gold statue
paled in comparison. She was the beautiful maiden Subhadra. They
finally asked for the permission of her parents and brought her back
to Maha-Kasyapa's parents.
Maha-Kasyapa
had no choice but to keep his promise to his parents, and the two
were married. As it turned out, this young lady also wanted to
dedicate her life to cultivation, and she complained to Maha-Kasyapa,
"This is really my parents' idea. They wanted me to marry you
because of your family's wealth. As for me personally, I would
rather live a life of cultivation." When Maha-Kasyapa heard
this, he told her, "Good. I also want to live a life of
cultivation. Then why don't we practice separately." Thus,
though they were husband and wife in name, they both continued their
own course of cultivation. After twenty years when both sets of
parents had passed away, they finally got their wish to renounce the
household life and lived a monastic life. They became a bhiksu and a
bhiksuni respectively. Although Subhadra became a bhiksuni, her
beauty still attracted the attention of many men. When she went out
to beg for alms, men would follow her and tease her. She was so
taken aback by all the unwanted attention that she dared not go out
to beg for alms. When Maha-Kasyapa saw what was happening to
Subhadra, whom he called his wife once upon a time, he felt
compassion for her and shared with her whatever food he got from his
alms round. Others misread his compassion and began to circulate
rumors by saying, "Look! They said they were only husband and
wife in name, but they are still such a loving couple even though
they are now in the Sangha." Subhadra lamented that her
physical beauty was in fact a burden, so she disfigured herself in
the hope that she could become a bhiksuni who was ugly in appearance
but beautiful in her cultivation. From this, we can see the
enlightened love and affection of arhats is different from the
worldly way we normally perceive love.
Most
people think that arhats, who are no longer bound by worldly
emotions, are without emotions. This is not true at all. Though
arhats have severed the ties of emotions, they are rich in
emotions. They are enlightened individuals who are rich in
personality and true to their character. When we say arhats are
empty of emotions, what we mean is that they have transcended the
limited scope of man-woman kind of love, and that they have expanded
their love for a few to a limitless and selfless compassion for all.
From loving one's spouse, children, and family, we extend our love
to the Dharma and all sentient beings. Thus, true love does not
speak of possessing others. True love is the touching of others'
lives and the giving of ourselves for all.
IV.
The Buddha's Kind of Love
The
Buddha is a fully enlightened individual; what is the Buddha's
emotional life like?
As
a lot of you may have known, the Buddha's mother died seven days
after giving birth to the Buddha. The Buddha, who had always wanted
to preach the Dharma to his mother to thank her for delivering him
into this world, finally fulfilled his wish and went to
Trayastrimsas Heaven to preach the Dharma to his mother. When King
Suddhodana, the father of the Buddha, passed away, all the princes
expressed their desire to be pallbearers. Though the Buddha was the
fully enlightened one and was most revered, he still insisted on
being one of the pallbearers for his father. When everyone saw the
Buddha carrying the coffin, everyone was very touched. The Buddha
was indeed a filial son and a great enlightened individual. He gave
us a very good example of how to love our parents.
The
Buddha loved everyone, friends and foes alike, equally and without
discrimination. Before the Buddha renounced his household life, he
was married to Princess Yasodhara of Devadista. Many years after the
Buddha attained enlightenment, the Buddha went back to his hometown
to see his family. Princess Yasodhara had not seen the Buddha for
all these years and wondered how her husband had changed. Filled
with hope and uncertainty, she was anxious about what to say to the
Buddha, who was once her husband. After the Buddha met with his
father, the imperial court, and various royal cousins, he finally
met up with Princess Yasodhara. She thought to herself, "I
really have to give him a piece of my mind and ask him why he left
me." When Princess Yasodhara saw the majestic look of the
Buddha, she could not help herself but knelt down before the Buddha.
The Buddha looked at her and said to her in a calm and stately tone
of voice, "Yasodhara, I have to ask for your forgiveness for
what I did to you. Though my leaving home to cultivate was not fair
to you, I am most true to all sentient beings. Now, I ask you to
rejoice for me for it had been my wish for many kalpas to become the
Buddha. My wish is to preach the Dharma and help all sentient
beings, including yourself, cross the sea of suffering." His
voice was compassionate, his appearance was august, and his words
transcended all worldly love. Everyone was moved, and eventually
Yasodhara also renounced her household life. From the way in which
the Buddha handled his relationship with Yasodhara, we can see that
to truly love a person is to help him or her grow and stay on the
right path; to love a person does not necessarily mean a fairy tale
life of living together happily ever after.
The
Buddha did not just love his family; he also loved those who were
hostile toward him. Though his cousin, Devadatta, treated the Buddha
like an enemy, the Buddha did not bear any grudges against him. In
fact, the Buddha used to tell everyone that Devadatta was his good
teacher and instrumental to helping him with his cultivation.
Without darkness, how do we appreciate the illumination of light?
Without evil, how do we appreciate the goodness of truth? Without
Devadatta, how do we see the greatness of the Buddha?
The
Buddha did not just extend his compassion to the rich and the
mighty; he was equally compassionate to all sentient beings without
discrimination. When his students were sick, the Buddha would
prepare the medication or deliver water to his students. When older
bhiksus failed in their eyesight and could not mend their clothes,
the Buddha would personally help them thread needles or mend their
clothes for them. The Buddha loved his disciples like a loving
mother cares for her children. To his disciples, the Buddha was a
source of light and strength. The Buddha is most compassionate and
gives us limitless hope!
The
Buddha was also a very patient teacher and adapted his teachings to
the student and the occasion. When Nidhi, who made his living
disposing of night-soil for others, felt inadequate and tried to
avoid the Buddha, the Buddha purposely went out of his way to meet
up with him. With Ksudrapanthaka, who was very slow and had trouble
even memorizing a simple gatha, the Buddha spent extra time to teach
the Dharma to him. When his disciple, Katyayana, who was preaching
the Dharma in another area, sent one of his young students to pay
respect to the Buddha, the Buddha made sure that this young student
was well cared for. The Buddha told his disciples, "Now that
the young student of Katyayana had arrived, please set up a cot next
to my bed for him to rest for the night." The great Buddha
found time for everyone, even for a young student. In showing his
concern for the youngster, the Buddha was also showing his love for
his disciple who was away preaching the Dharma. The Buddha often
thought about Aniruddha, who lost his sight because of long hours of
cultivation and not getting enough rest. Only after Aniruddha
attained supernatural vision did the Buddha stop worrying about him.
The Buddha also worried about his cousin Ananda, who was very
handsome and often attracted the unwanted attention of women. Only
after Ananda became successful in his cultivation did the Buddha
feel a sigh of relief for his cousin.
Thus,
when we speak of love and affection, there are actually many levels
of love and affection. Love starts at home. We love our spouse, our
children, and our siblings. From here, we extend our love to loving
our relatives and friends. Further, our love encompasses all human
beings and then all beings. From a possessive kind of love, love
matures into a giving kind of love, and finally into the enlightened
love that bodhisattvas have for us. This kind of love is the great
compassion that is described by the saying, "[I] long for all
sentient beings to be free of suffering, but I would not seek
pleasure just for myself."
Love
is like water. On the one hand, it can nurture our lives; on the
other hand, it can drown us. Thus, if we do not know how to love
properly, love can bring us many problems and ruin our lives. How do
we love properly? Let me offer the following four guidelines:
-
Love
wisely—We should use our wisdom to purify our love.
-
Love
compassionately—We should use our compassion to manifest our
love.
-
Love
in accordance with the Dharma—We should use the Dharma to
guide our love.
-
Love
morally—We should use morals and ethics to direct our love.
Love
is such an important subject of our lives. How do we love selflessly
and offer our love to all? How do we transform a possessive love to
a giving love, to a love for the Dharma? How do we purify our love
from one of discrimination to one of great compassion? How do we
love in the spirit of this common saying: "Cultivate our
kindness without conditions, and ground our compassion on
oneness"? These are very important questions for us to ponder.
When we offer our love and affection to serve the community, then
our lives will be that much fuller and that much more everlasting!
Thank you.
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