Three Types of Children of the Buddha

The teacher’s voice rang out across the crowded hall, carrying a tone that was both witty and stern. He posed a question that seemed simple at first glance but touched the very core of our practice: "We have taken refuge in the Buddha, so what kind of children are we to Him?"

He explained that the first step is knowing the path, and the second is taking refuge in the Triple Gem. When we kneel before the statue of the Buddha and vow to become His disciple, we officially become His "child." However, this title divides into three distinct types, depending on our attitude and actions afterward.

The first type is the "stepchild." These are people who have taken refuge and received the ceremony, yet they wander away. They do not return to the practice center or participate in community activities. Like children who leave their home without warning, they live independently, lacking guidance and discipline. The teacher noted that if one takes refuge and then abandons the path, the connection is not strong enough to be called truly familial.

The second type is the "biological child." These individuals have taken refuge and actively engage with the practice centers and meditation groups. They live with structure and discipline, progressing alongside spiritual siblings. As the saying goes, "a meal needs soup, and practice needs companions," they understand that practicing alone easily leads to laziness and errors. Staying connected to the Sangha helps them maintain faith, receive direct correction from teachers, and accumulate great merit through mutual support.

Yet there is a third, more noble type: the "beloved child" of the Buddha. Who qualifies as a beloved child? It is not necessarily those who ordain (though monastics are called the eldest sons), but rather lay practitioners with a special psychological trait: they always believe themselves to be flawed.

The teacher shared the story of Mr. Nguyen, a director of a road construction company who lived gently and devotedly to his family and society. When asked, "Where do you see your flaws?", he struggled to find specific faults. He fulfilled all duties, broke no laws, and was loved by many. Yet he still came to the temple and practiced. Why? Because deep down, he believed he was not yet perfect, harboring hidden defects invisible to the naked eye. This belief that one is "flawed," even without seeing clear errors, is the true expression of wisdom and humility. Such a person is called a "beloved child."

In contrast, some people walking down the street refuse invitations to practice, claiming, "I am not flawed, so why should I practice?" They are arrogant and self-satisfied, believing themselves already perfect. Whether they have taken refuge or not, these individuals can never become "beloved children" of the Buddha because they lack the motivation for correction—the root meaning of the word "practice."

The core lesson lies in the definition of the word "Tu," which means to correct or amend. To correct oneself, one must admit to having faults. The humble recognition that "I am still flawed" is the key that unlocks the door to enlightenment. Do not be complacent with superficial moral achievements. Become a "biological child" by staying connected to the practice center, and strive to be a "beloved child" of the Buddha by maintaining a mindful attitude, believing there are still many imperfections to refine. Only then will the process of practice be truly effective, and merit will grow.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang