Why Do We Still Feel Lonely at the Temple?

Have you ever wondered why, though we come to the same temple, bow before the same Buddha, and listen to the same teachings, so many Buddhists remain strangers to one another? They nod a hurried greeting, then each goes their separate way after the service. Some even push and shove for a place to stand, ready to speak harshly when someone seems to be taking away their blessings from merit. Could it be that we are losing something very important on the path of practice?

When we come to the temple, what are we truly seeking?

Whoever comes to the Buddha longs to find the path to enlightenment and liberation. It is because we recognize that samsara (cycle of rebirth) is an exhausting spinning wheel with no way out. The Venerable Thích Chân Quang emphasizes:

"Samsara (cycle of rebirth) is always something full of suffering (dukkha), something that wears us out."

And so we practice in order to walk out of the cycle of rebirth. But this path is not traveled in a single day. It needs many supporting elements, and one of the most important is spiritual friendship within the lay community.

Love — a vital need of every human being

We are born needing to be loved and to love. This is a natural need, immense and intense. If it is taken away, a person suffers more than death itself. The Venerable Chân Quang says:

"To be without love is a great suffering (dukkha). To have no one to love is a great suffering (dukkha)."

We see this in parents who love their children, children who love their parents, in husbands and wives, in friends. But if love is confined to only a few people, it does not endure. When romantic love falls apart, some people may even turn to ending their lives. That is why the Buddha taught us to extend love without limit — and that is precisely compassion.

The story of the "robots" and a lesson in empathy

The Venerable tells a science fiction story: In a distant future, humanity has been destroyed by robots. A detection program discovers that one real human being still remains. They search endlessly but cannot find him, because the robots have been programmed so cleverly that they are indistinguishable from people. Finally, one robot shoots itself in the chest — where a human lung has been implanted — and the human instinct within it makes it cry out in pain. At that moment, another employee screams. The robot immediately realizes: this is the true human being, because:

"Only a human being knows how to feel the pain of another human being."

We are human beings who still feel sorrow at the suffering (dukkha) of our neighbors, who feel our hearts tighten when we hear that someone has met with misfortune. That is our most precious inheritance. If one day, before the sight of a frail old man forced to beg for food, our heart turns cold, then we have become a "robot" running on autopilot, having lost our very humanity.

Spiritual friendship — the mirror of the practitioner's heart

Among the bonds we are born into — parents and children, siblings, spouses, teachers and students — there is one bond that is not obligatory yet immensely important: spiritual friendship. The Venerable Chân Quang explains:

"Spiritual friendship is the measuring stick of a disciple of the Buddha's devotion on the path of practice."

No one forces us to love our fellow practitioners at the temple. Yet this very human world becomes the test of our cultivation. If we meet one another at the temple with indifferent eyes and polite, hollow smiles, it is a sign that our spiritual heart is still thin. But if we open our hearts to love and care for our brothers and sisters in practice, then we are truly growing in the Buddha's teachings (Dharma). The saying "When eating rice, there is soup; when practicing, there are companions" is not merely folk wisdom — it is a profound principle of cultivation.

Do not let carelessness steal away your chance to practice

In reality, many Buddhists come to the temple with the attitude of "whenever I remember, I'll go." Some abandon even the great festival days because of harvests or work. Some take refuge and then do not visit their teacher for years. It is precisely this looseness that leaves the lay community increasingly scattered. The Venerable urges:

"Do not wait until someone calls you to go. Remember on your own, and then call others as well — call your own children to go too. That is what it means to truly practice."

He also reminds us that temples now organizing the eight precepts retreat regularly each month are creating opportunities for Buddhists to bond with one another. Do not let our devotion grow cold with the passing of time.

In this life full of burdens, to have a place to take refuge, to have companions of like mind who bow before the Buddha and practice alongside us — that is a great gift. Seize it. Open your heart to love your fellow practitioners and to support those around you. For it is precisely when we give love away that we find ourselves again, and grow ever more steadfast on the path back to the Buddha.