The Ghost of Pride

A monk's haunting memory of the moment he stayed silent before a layperson's question, revealing how pride clouded his ability to see the strengths of his brothers.

Many years have passed, yet the image of that afternoon still haunts me like a scar upon my spirit. At the time, I was still a young monastic, carrying many aspirations but also filled with excessive self-confidence. A devout lay Buddhist, who had always shown me special reverence, sat across from me in the quiet guest hall of the temple.

He asked me with sincere eyes:

"Venerable teacher, in this temple, apart from you, is there anyone else who is also capable?"

The question fell into the stillness. I sat there, my mind spinning. Deep within, the images of my brothers in the monastic life passed before me. One chanted the sutras beautifully, another sat in meditation with steadfast calm, and another was skillful in serving the community.

But at that moment, beneath the shell of my pride, I did not see those strengths at all. Or rather, I deliberately overlooked them. I felt I was the center, the only one who mattered. So instead of praising my brothers to nourish the layperson's faith, I chose silence.

That silence lasted only a few seconds, long enough for the layperson to understand that the answer was "No." He nodded, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, yet he remained courteous. The matter faded into oblivion, and I believed I had preserved my dignity.

But now, looking back, I truly understand the danger of that moment. Why could I not see anyone as capable? Because my mind was veiled by a "self" that had grown too large. When pride takes hold, we lose the humility to recognize the goodness in others.

I feel profound remorse. If on that day I had risen above my selfishness, I could have said: "Yes indeed—my senior brother A excels in meditative concentration, and my junior brother B serves with great devotion..."

Such praise would not only have brought joy to my brothers; it would have planted in that layperson's heart a firm faith that the Sangha gathers people of virtue and talent, shining examples for all. That faith might have inspired him to practice with even greater diligence, and might even have led him, or someone dear to him, to ordain. But my silence, born of pride, severed that stream of inspiration.

I have come to see that when we notice the faults of others, and we criticize—or stay silent out of pride—we are harming both ourselves and our community. On the other hand, when we know how to cherish the strengths of our brothers, we build a firm moral foundation, spreading positive energy and encouraging everyone to grow together.

The Meaning of the Story

This story is a heartfelt confession of the consequences of a proud mind. Failing to see the strengths of others, because the "self" obscures our vision, not only wounds our brothers but also causes the layperson's faith in the Three Jewels to waver. The lesson is that those on the monastic path must cultivate a humble heart, rejoicing in and praising the goodness of others to encourage them, while keeping far away from any tendency to criticize or remain indifferent to the contributions of the community.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang