Making Offerings and the Four Wings of Blessings from Merit

Rain fell lightly on the temple porch. The late afternoon air of the year's end carried a chill, along with the faint scent of agarwood drifting from the main hall. A group of Buddhists sat gathered around the teacher, listening to his gentle yet profound words.

"In this world, there are things people give that are not exchanges," the teacher said, sipping his tea, his gaze drifting into the distance. "That is what distinguishes humans from animals. But within that giving, there are countless shades and degrees."

The teacher began to speak, his voice slow and measured. "Take almsgiving, for example. When we meet someone poor, no longer able to work, with nothing left to offer the world in exchange, they have no choice but to hold out their hands and beg for kindness. When we give them money, that is almsgiving. In that act, we stand in a position above them, with pity, and even a touch of condescension."

A young Buddhist nodded. "That is how I feel, teacher. I give because I feel sorry for them."

The teacher smiled. "Yes, and that is the first cause and effect (karmic law). Those who give alms will enjoy comfortable circumstances, and those who once received our alms will become people who love us. Later, if we become singers, they will be our most devoted fans."

The teacher continued, "Then there is helping. Friends of equal standing who suddenly meet misfortune—a house fire, illness, an accident. We come to them with money, helping them through their hardship. That affection is one of equals, without condescension. Its karmic result, beyond comfortable circumstances, is that we will have many good friends, and we will escape dangers in life."

Then the teacher spoke of contributing. "A village needs to build a bridge, a road, a school. The government lacks the budget. We contribute—five thousand, one hundred thousand, ten million. Some people far away hear the news and come to contribute toward a bridge for the community. That is doing good, thinking of a benefit greater than oneself. Its karmic result is social standing—later in life, one might become a district chairman or a provincial secretary."

A middle-aged Buddhist asked, "What about paying taxes, teacher? Isn't that also a contribution to the country?"

The teacher nodded. "True, but paying taxes is somewhat compulsory, because if it were voluntary, perhaps no one would pay. Yet that tax money—we may not see it, but it builds the roads we travel on, and it pays the salaries of police officers who stand watch day and night to keep us safe. And those who receive salaries from it must also live worthy of it."

The teacher suddenly remembered something and added, "I once met a police officer from a large district in Saigon. He came to visit the temple and told stories about solving cases. But what I remember most is what he said: 'As a citizen, one has a salary; as an official, one must have stipends.' That word 'stipend' is a fine one—it refers to the rightful rewards beyond salary for those who do public work. So when I meet officials, I often quietly slip them money. It is not almsgiving, for their position is very high. It is not helping, for they are not my friends. Nor is it contributing, for they are doing their duty. I cannot even define what it is. I only know my heart sincerely wishes to share with them."

Only then did the teacher speak of making offerings. "Making offerings is for the divine, for places of worship, for those who practice genuinely. When we make an offering, our heart holds reverence directed toward the sacred. That state of mind is entirely different. It is not condescension, not equality, not duty—it is the highest respect."

The teacher took a sip of tea and continued, "Because of that reverence, the cause and effect (karmic law) of making offerings multiplies many times over. Those who give alms and help carry a light force of blessings from merit. Those who contribute to public works receive greater blessings and gain standing. But those who make pure offerings to a worthy place—their blessings multiply many times over, and they often become the very wealthy, the great magnates. When I traveled to the north, I saw many wealthy people making offerings to this temple and that temple, nearly sponsoring them entirely. Their reverence is strong, their spirituality deep, and so their blessings are greater."

The teacher paused and looked at the group. "And if the blessings are greater still, then at death, a genuine giver of offerings may be reborn in the heavenly realms. I have a younger friend with terminal cancer whose family hid the truth from him. He knew he was dying, because one night he dreamed of heavenly light waiting to welcome him. That is an omen of rebirth in heaven. Those who are gentle, who create much merit, and who make offerings with sincere reverence—when they die, they easily ascend to heaven."

A Buddhist asked, "Then why do I see so few people who are extremely wealthy?"

The teacher smiled. "Because making offerings must be pure—given to what truly benefits sentient beings, to those who practice genuinely. It must not be given to those who practice without sincerity, for that would be a mistake."

The teacher concluded, "So with every act of giving, we must know clearly which shade of giving we are in. And most important of all is whether there is reverence. With reverence, blessings multiply many times over. Our life will be different."

Outside on the porch, the rain had stopped. The evening sun glimmered through the window frame, falling upon the altar of the Buddha, shimmering. The Buddhists bowed their heads, their hearts lightened, as if a precious truth had just been opened to them.

The Meaning of the Story

This story distinguishes four forms of giving: almsgiving, helping, contributing, and making offerings. Each form carries a different state of heart and produces a different karmic result. Almsgiving to those who are vulnerable brings comfortable circumstances and affection. Helping friends as equals brings good friends and escape from misfortune. Contributing to public works brings social standing. And making offerings with genuine reverence to genuine practitioners or worthy places of worship multiplies blessings from merit many times over, often bringing great wealth or the opportunity for rebirth in heaven. The lesson is to understand our own heart when we give, and especially to treasure the act of making offerings with purity and reverence, so that we may sow the greatest seeds of merit for our lives.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang