Decisive Choices

A dharma talk is taking place at Minh Dao Pagoda. Venerable Master Chan Quang presents vivid scenarios regarding decisive choices in life, ranging from history to daily existence, and from spiritual practice to how we treat others.

Inside the small yet solemn grounds of Minh Dao Pagoda, warm yellow lights illuminate rows of neatly arranged wooden chairs. A dharma talk unfolds in a quiet atmosphere, occasionally interrupted by the creaking of old seats as listeners shift their bodies.

Venerable Master Chan Quang sits on the teaching platform, his gentle gaze sweeping over the faces of Buddhists listening attentively. His voice is deep, warm, and slow, like a flowing river.

"In this life, there are moments when we must make choices with determination, without hesitation or halfway measures."

The Master pauses for a moment, his eyes looking into the distance as if recalling an ancient story.

"I remember Tran Binh Trong from the past. When captured by the Mongol-Yuan invaders, they saw that he was handsome and exceptionally talented. Kublai Khan did not want to kill him. He felt pity for such a unique person. The invader said, 'If you submit to me, after I conquer Dai Viet, I will make you the King of An Nam.'

And Tran Binh Trong gave a reply that we still learn from and admire today. He said, 'I would rather be a ghost of the South than a king of the North!'

He did not waver in his words; he did not choose a middle path. He chose death while remaining a citizen of Dai Viet, rather than living as a slave-king. He made a definitive choice, leaving no room for compromise."

The Master looks down at the audience, where some Buddhists nod in agreement while others sit in deep contemplation.

"Do not say, 'The Buddha teaches the Middle Way, so I can have both this and that.' Not every situation allows for having it both ways. In life, there are times when we must decisively choose one path, not two."

A Buddhist sitting in the back row raises a hand gently.

"Venerable Master, when is it acceptable to have it both ways?"

The Master smiles.

"There are times when balancing two things is appropriate. For example, a sick person must take medicine but also observe dietary restrictions. One should not eat too much, nor should one stop eating entirely. That requires moderation.

Or consider a man whose wife and mother do not get along. He must speak a few words to one side and a few to the other. To his mother, he might say, 'Your daughter-in-law bears grandchildren for you, not for anyone else, so please do not scold her constantly.' To his wife, he might say, 'I have parents, but I do not have two wives, so please bear with them.' This kind of balance, this moderate approach, creates harmony."

The Master stops, his tone becoming more serious.

"But there are times when we must choose one thing and reject the other. For instance, imagine you are very poor, and someone invites you: 'You are too poor and have nothing to do, so come rob people.' Now you face two options. First, you work as a servant for a few coins. You earn money only when hired. Second, you become a robber.

"Venerable Master," a young Buddhist speaks up, "can we do both working and robbing?"

The Master shakes his head.

"No! Robbery violates the law and morality, so we must absolutely refuse to participate. It is better to work as a servant. Perhaps our karma from previous lives lacks blessings, so now we serve others. Whenever someone hires us, we help them. Meanwhile, we come to Minh Dao Pagoda for repentance. Who knows, one day we might become an employer? But we must never steal."

The Master rests his hands on the table, lowering his voice.

"Now let us discuss planting seeds of good karma versus planting seeds of evil karma. Which do we choose? Or do we mix them? No! We must absolutely not mix them. We choose only good causes. There is no such thing as being partly good and partly evil."

"However, on the path of goodness, the Middle Way begins. Once we decide to walk the path of good and avoid evil, we must understand what constitutes true goodness."

The Master stands up and paces a few steps on the platform.

"A person who helps no one does not plant evil karma, but neither do they plant good karma. They say, 'I live without doing bad deeds, and that is enough.' But this is also an extreme, because they perform no acts of kindness whatsoever.

Then there are those who say, 'Give everything away!' They give whatever is asked, even removing the clothes they are wearing until only shorts remain. If the shorts are beautiful, they might try to give those away too. This is another extreme. Goodness taken to this level is also wrong."

An elderly Buddhist laughs, but becomes serious again as the Master continues.

"Therefore, we must follow the Middle Way. Help others within your capacity so that you can recover your energy and continue helping them in the long run. If you help once and then become a beggar yourself, needing others to help you, that is incorrect."

In the quiet air of the pagoda, the sound of cicadas outside drifts in, mixed with the faint scent of incense. The Master pauses for a moment before continuing.

"Now let us address something more important. We know that in the past, we committed many mistakes. These mistakes can ripen into painful karmic results. There is a method to reduce this suffering and transform past karma. It is the practice of repentance."

The Master looks around, his expression grave.

"Do we practice repentance now? We must absolutely repent; we cannot neglect it. Does anyone believe they were flawless in the past? If we had no faults, we would already be in heavenly realms. Since we are here, we certainly possess a mixture of sin and merit.

Sometimes we see a healthy, beautiful person suddenly killed by a car accident. Being hit by a vehicle is not light karma. Yet, we cannot see clearly, so we do not know the extent of our past actions. The safest assumption is to tell ourselves, 'In my previous life, I likely created much evil karma.' This is a wise stance. If it turns out to be untrue, we rejoice. If it is true, we repent for the exact sins we committed."

A young Buddhist speaks up softly.

"Venerable Master, many people do not understand this. They think past mistakes are gone, illusory, or distant..."

The Master nods.

"That is correct. Many are ignorant or indifferent to this matter. They do not realize how terrifying past errors truly are. They torment our lives hour by hour in this existence. Why do we suffer in this way? Why do we experience separation? Why do we face loss? All these are consequences of past mistakes. They unfold throughout our entire lives."

The Master sits down again, his voice tinged with sadness.

"Almost no life is peaceful. Whether it is this issue or that, all stem from past errors. Therefore, once we understand this, we must choose to practice repentance regularly and diligently. This is a conscious choice."

The atmosphere in the pagoda grows even quieter. The wind rustles through the leaves of the old banyan tree, and birds sing from afar. The Master’s voice becomes gentle.

"Now, among countless beings, we must decisively choose between loving people or hating them. Which path do we take?"

There is a moment of silence. Some look at each other, while others bow their heads. Suddenly, scattered applause breaks out, gradually growing louder and denser.

The Master smiles.

"Some people did not clap. Those who abstained from voting have been recorded in the Black Book by Nam Tao."

A light laugh ripples through the crowd, and the Master continues.

"This record is brought before Yama, the King of Hell. On Judgment Day, he might intend to throw someone into hell, but upon opening the book from Minh Dao Pagoda, he sees that this person clapped. He says to Yama, 'This one has learned; release them, for they know repentance and cultivation.' As for the other, whose file shows they did not clap at Minh Dao Pagoda, meaning they did not choose the path of loving sentient beings, send them to the ninth level of hell."

Laughter erupts, but the Master quickly becomes serious again.

"So today, we choose a life dedicated to loving sentient beings. I ask repeatedly because it is not easy. Choosing this path leads to hardship. Turning away is easier. If we turn away, we need not care for anyone, and eventually, no one will care for us. Our lives will become increasingly lonely. Cause and effect (karmic law) will lead us to desolation. Ultimately, cause and effect will banish us to Mars."

"If we choose the path of loving sentient beings, life becomes arduous. Because loving beings is not comfortable at all. It is extremely difficult. However, we must follow the Middle Way, not exhaust ourselves to the point of collapse. Maintain a steady, calm pace, but love people forever. If you can help someone, do so. If you can offer a word of comfort, say it. If sharing time costs you something, pay it. Proceed slowly and steadily, but keep doing it, always."

The Master looks down, his eyes intense.

"But internally, we must never stop thinking about this, for once we choose this path, we commit to loving sentient beings forever. Love cannot just be spoken; it must manifest in action. Just now, when we clapped, we merely voiced our love verbally. But when it enters the heart, it must flow out through the hands, transforming into deed."

The Master stands up, his voice dropping low.

"Now let us ask another question. Between selfishness and altruism, which path do we choose?"

Another round of applause rings out, stronger and more unified this time. The Master nods approvingly.

"What pleasure does a selfish life bring? We satisfy our instincts. Initially, we feel pleased, happy, and joyful. For example, when we were children, given two cakes by our mother, we grabbed the larger one first, feeling immense satisfaction.

As adults, suppose there is a vacant position in an office, and three or four people compete for it. We strive to win it. Winning makes us feel superior and joyful. Thus, selfishness brings a sense of happiness."

The Master pauses briefly.

"But when we follow the Buddha, kneeling before the statue during practice, holding high aspirations, we realize that although selfishness brings temporary joy, what does it bring in the long run? Boredom, anxiety, and when retribution returns, only suffering.

Therefore, understanding the Dharma, we are not foolish enough to continue choosing selfishness. We must practice altruism. But living altruistically is very hard, extremely hard. We are constantly torn apart. After deciding to live selflessly, we must fight against ourselves. Every time a choice arises, we struggle internally to select what benefits others rather than ourselves."

A young Buddhist asks,

"Venerable Master, some say that living altruistically leads to failure, right? Because clearly, those who grab and compete succeed, while those who do not, fail."

The Master shakes his head.

"Not necessarily. Seemingly, some selfish people succeed because their past blessings remain. Like a robber who successfully steals because their merit is still intact. But if the evil is too great, merit depletes quickly. For instance, using a knife to chop off someone's arm just to steal a wallet or phone drains merit rapidly, leading to arrest and execution shortly after.

So, selfish opportunists may succeed while their blessings last. But in the long term, only those who live altruistically achieve great success. Where is the example? Right here at Minh Dao Pagoda."

The Master turns and points toward the altar.

"Minh Dao High Monk lived a life of genuine cultivation, practicing humility and restraint. He sought neither fame nor profit. Yet, the Sangha eventually honored him with a high position. And he remained peaceful, as if nothing had happened, because his mind held no desire for name or gain."

"Thus, in the fierce choice between selfishness and altruism, some think they are clever, choosing scheming and competition. They believe this leads to success. But actually, that success is merely leftover past blessings, while suffering and failure await behind."

"For those who choose an altruistic life, it is exhausting, filled with internal conflict and struggle. But later, the fruit of blessings is vast. And if we walk this path forever, where do we go? We ascend to the realm of the noble ones."

The Master sits down, his voice heavy.

"So, between a selfish life and an altruistic life, which do we choose? We know the altruistic path is difficult, but we have decided to choose it for our lives and our minds. However, we must understand that clapping is only a temporary choice, a fleeting joy, a momentary impulse, or simply following the crowd.

To truly live an altruistic life requires a lifetime of sweat and tears. It demands a lifetime of fighting oneself, struggling internally moment by moment. It is not easy."

The atmosphere in the pagoda grows heavier. The cicadas outside suddenly fall silent. The Master continues, his voice low.

"So, where does selfishness originate, and where does altruism begin? What is the root cause?"

A Buddhist whispers,