A New Year's Blessing and the Heart That Seeks Peace

Spring sunlight slipped through the leaves, scattering golden streaks across the temple courtyard. Inside the main hall, the scent of agarwood incense mingled with the early morning chill of the first days of the year, bringing a strange stillness to the heart. An elderly woman, her hands trembling, offered a stick of incense before the Buddha's altar, her eyes closed as she whispered something softly. Beside her, a middle-aged man stood in silence, hands joined, his face full of worry.

Our ancestors had a saying: "Visiting temples all year round is not as auspicious as the full moon of the first month." Every spring, the Vietnamese eagerly flock to the temples, hoping for a peaceful and fortunate new year. But few know that the custom of offering to the stars to dispel misfortune on the eighth day—something many consider indispensable—actually does not exist anywhere in the Buddhist scriptures. It originated from folk culture, from the words of fortune-tellers claiming that this year one person would encounter the La Hầu star, another the Kế Đô star, leaving people anxious and afraid.

In a small, cozy room, the Teacher sat telling stories of the past. When he was young and playful, he once had the chance to meet Teacher Minh Phát at Ấn Quang Temple—a man famous for miracles and spiritual powers. Teacher Minh Phát recounted: "At Ấn Quang, on the eighth day, people would bring their names for star offerings in great numbers. I knew this was not in the Buddha's scriptures, but I could not bear to refuse. So many people brought their names that by evening, when I presided over the ceremony, I prayed: 'All those born in the years of Giáp, Ất, Bính, Đinh, Mậu, Kỷ, Canh, Tân, Nhâm, Quý, all those born in the years of Tý, Sửu, Dần, Mão, Thìn, Tỵ, Ngọ, Mùi, Thân, Dậu, Tuất, Hợi—this year you are all blessed with good fortune, no more bad luck!' Once the prayer was done, it was done. No need to read each person's name, no need to know which star. This way, people were satisfied, and there was no superstition."

The Teacher paused and smiled gently: "Our temple does not perform star offerings. But I have reflected that temples which do so also have their merit. Why? Because at the start of the year, everyone carries worries. We do not know what will happen, whether fortune or misfortune awaits. Some go to fortune-tellers, some ask for star offerings. And those who know not what to do simply carry the worry in their hearts, keeping silent for fear of being called superstitious. Looking around, everyone seems burdened."

The Teacher continued: "Recently, I returned to the city for a few days and invited a musician and a friend to visit. It had been so long since we met, and I missed them. When they came to talk, I gave each of them a lucky gift of two verses of spring blessings. Those verses were simply words of moral advice, yet strangely, they matched each person's circumstances. For this one, one omen; for that one, another. Some omens were good, some were not so good, but if we use the Dharma's principles to transform them, everything turns out well. The verses were at once advice, a blessing, and a foretelling of things to come."

A lay Buddhist sitting below asked quietly: "Venerable Sir, do the blessings of ordinary people come true?"

The Teacher pondered: "The blessings of ordinary people rarely come true, because those who give them lack great virtue. But the blessings of those who have cultivated high virtue come true indeed—they are like mantras; once spoken, they become reality. Therefore, when lay Buddhists come to the temple at the start of the year to venerate the Buddha, it is to receive blessings from those who truly cultivate the path. Placing one's hopes in the Buddha, relying on the Buddha, brings more auspiciousness than relying on those of little virtue. But one must have the right conditions to meet such people."

At this point, the Teacher looked around the room with warm eyes: "Since our temple does not perform star offerings, we hold a communal peace ceremony on the full moon of the first month. We pray for peace not only for ourselves, but for peace in the world, prosperity for the nation, warmth for every family, and fulfillment for each person. Praying for the community around us creates virtue and blessings from merit. But praying only for oneself gradually depletes one's blessings. Everyone considers themselves important, yet little do they know that the more we center on ourselves, the more our virtue diminishes. Therefore, every prayer that moves heaven and earth must be a great prayer—a prayer for all people."

The Teacher slowly rose and invited everyone to stand and join their palms. The whole assembly fell silent, reverent. The Teacher spoke, his voice warm yet solemn: "May the Three Jewels of the ten directions, all the Buddhas, all the Great Bodhisattvas, and the deities of all the heavens bear witness to our prayers today. May all people in this world learn to love one another, may peace spread everywhere, and may war come to an end. May Vietnam prosper, grow rich and beautiful, with all its people united in love. May my family and my parents live long, happy, and joyful lives. May the unwholesome karma of my past lives be gently eased, and may I have enough calm to learn the lessons that adversity teaches, striving diligently in practice. And if I am granted good fortune and wealth, I offer all those blessings from merit back to all beings."

When everyone sat down again, the air seemed to settle into stillness. The Teacher spoke slowly: "That we sit here today, looking upon one another with love—whom do we owe this to? This forest should have remained desolate, the stream flowing on in lonely silence, the clouds drifting indifferently over the mountain peaks. But no—on this spring day, people have returned here, bringing the heart of spring, the smile of spring, together forming a gathering of spring. This is thanks to a human being who appeared more than two thousand five hundred years ago and left behind countless precious teachings. Because of that person, we know how to live more rightly, more wisely, more meaningfully. Because of that person, we know our ordinary human condition and strive to rise above it."

The Teacher paused, then concluded: "Therefore, our reverence for the Buddha today is precisely the cause for us to attain the fruit of Stream-Entry. And once we attain the fruit of Stream-Entry, reverence for the Buddha arises naturally and absolutely, and that in turn becomes the cause for attaining the fruit of the Arahant. Such is cause and effect (karmic law)—it is our reverence for the Buddha that guides us along. But on this path, we must also cultivate many other virtues: meditative concentration, contemplation of non-self (anatta), making merit, liberating sentient beings, and repentance for past karma. Reverence for the Buddha is the core that carries us through each step of the path of practice. Whoever holds love and reverence for the Buddha in their heart possesses the core of true practice. But whoever is indifferent to the Buddha—however well they understand the teachings, however eloquently they speak—still lacks that core, if deep within there is no love and reverence for the Buddha."

The spring sun had climbed high, and the temple courtyard glowed with new light. Each person left with a lighter heart, no longer burdened by vague anxieties about the new year. They carried with them a great prayer—a prayer for the world, for the nation, for all people—and the faith that a sincere, selfless heart would be witnessed by the Buddhas and protected by the heavens. Above all, they understood that the festival is not for display, but for each person to grow in the mind of the Dharma, so that love and reverence for the Buddha may deepen day by day—that is the true purpose of every festival in Buddhism.

The Meaning of the Story

The lesson the Venerable Thích Chân Quang wished to convey: At the start of the year, rather than worrying about star offerings or believing in superstitions, a Buddhist should keep a sincere heart that seeks peace—praying for all people, for the nation, for the world. Only the blessings of the virtuous come true, and only a selfless prayer creates blessings from merit. Above all, reverence for the Buddha is the very core of practice, the cause leading to the fruits of sainthood. A Buddhist festival must nurture the mind of the Dharma in oneself and others, not serve for show or the glorification of outward forms.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang