A Temple in Every Village, a Monk in Every Temple

On a morning at Hong Phuc Temple in Nghi Long commune, Nghi Loc district, Nghe An province, golden sunlight spread gently over the curved tile roofs. In the main hall, the sound of the bell resonated, and the fragrance of incense drifted through the air. Lay Buddhists filled the seats, wearing blue and brown robes, their faces radiant as they turned toward the dharma seat. Venerable Thich Chan Quang sat serenely on the lotus platform, his compassionate gaze sweeping over the assembly, as he began his dharma talk on the theme "The Temple, the Monk, and the Lay Buddhist."

He looked around and spoke in a warm, deep voice: "Today, I have come here with great joy for Buddhism in Nghe An. Thay Chau Phong has been appointed as the abbot of this Hong Phuc Temple. This is joyful news, because our land of Nghe is severely lacking in temples and monks. Severely lacking!" He paused, then recounted a long period when the people of Nghe An had to travel far to find temples in Ha Tinh, Hanoi, or even as far south as the southern regions, because their homeland had no temples and no monks. "In some places, only the temple foundation remains, or the temple gate, or a corner of an old stupa. The monks are gone, and the lay Buddhists are gone as well. That is the greatest misfortune."

He told a story: "There was once a commune secretary who saw that his village still had the old foundation of a temple, with no monks and no lay Buddhists. Yet it was he, a government official, who went out to encourage the villagers to gather together and request the restoration of the temple. The merit of that leader is truly immense!" He emphasized: "A village that has a temple, a monk, and lay Buddhists is a happy village. But to have these three things, we must have people who practice. And practitioners are severely lacking."

He asked: "Now, if every village were to build a temple, would that be easy or difficult?" Everyone fell silent. He answered himself: "Extremely difficult! Building a temple is costly, and villagers do not have the means. But difficult as it is, we can build small temples; they do not need to be grand and beautiful, as long as there is a place to worship the Buddha where people can come and pay their respects. And what about having a monk in every temple? Where would they come from? Even the Church does not have enough people. In the north, some monks must serve as abbot of five or seven temples at once, with no one to take their place. The Catholic Church in France is the same; many churches no longer have priests, only machines that ring the bells automatically."

His voice grew solemn: "Why is there a shortage of practitioners? Because no one is willing to ordain. Why are they unwilling? Because they do not like it. Why do they not like it? Because worldly life is so captivating! You get to wear beautiful clothes, ride motorbikes, go out and have fun, and be loved. Meanwhile, monks live within the precepts, restrained and enduring hardship. Looking from the outside, the world seems far more enjoyable than life in the temple. But the truth is quite the opposite!"

He recounted: "The other day, I stopped in Da Lat, and my disciples invited me to sit on a pine hill for some peaceful rest. As I sat there, I heard a lawyer lamenting: 'Marriage is so hard, Thay! When we were in love, everything was wonderful, but once we lived together, all sorts of problems surfaced. Just take schedules: I go to bed at ten, but she goes to bed at nine. If I am not in bed yet, she asks: "Do you miss someone else? Why aren't you lying down with me at this hour?" I try to explain that I still have work to finish, but she will not listen. Then the children came, and well, I just gritted my teeth and endured, living for the children, forcing myself through an entire life.' I sat quietly listening, offering no comment. I already knew all of this, but it struck me even more deeply: behind the amusements of the world lies only an abyss. A night of drinking and hearty laughter is followed by wrongdoing and illness. Worldly joy is merely clinging to pleasures that are brief and temporary, and to obtain them we must expend so much effort. The Buddha said: 'The world offers little joy and much suffering, and even more danger.'"

He continued his teaching: "When someone praises us, we are happy. When someone scolds us, we are sad. Our mind is shaken by praise and blame. But for a practitioner, praise leaves them calm, and blame leaves them undisturbed. Between these two lives, which should we choose? Clearly, a life of calm, unshaken by praise or blame, is far more pleasant. Or consider having a lover who texts you, 'I miss you tonight,' and we feel delighted. But then one day we discover betrayal, and we suffer. No worldly love is faithful forever; only the noble ones are faithful. Is it safe to place our happiness in people who change so easily? It is not safe. That is suffering, not joy."

He smiled gently: "But for a practitioner, who loves no one in particular, even when someone texts, 'I love you very much, Thay,' we are not elated. And when that person later marries, we are not sad. There is serenity, free from dependence on the affection or aversion of others. There is only one love that embraces all sentient beings, favoring no one. That compassionate heart is far happier than clinging to a few people whose faithfulness we cannot even secure in ourselves."

He looked around, his voice full of concern: "And yet many temples try to create practitioners through tricks. They take in orphaned children, hoping they will ordain when they grow up. But the results are the opposite. Some temples have raised twenty children, only to have every one of them leave as adults. They go to school, learn that they have the right to choose, and then come to bid farewell: 'Thank you for raising me until I was eighteen. Bye bye, Thay, I am leaving!' And off they go. Ordination is a noble and resolute choice; it cannot be forced."

He concluded: "To have many abbots, there must be many people who ordain. To have people ordain, there must be people who love the monastic life. And to love it, one must enter the path and actually practice, and only then discover the surprising truth: the simple, restrained, and wakeful life of monks is true happiness. Meanwhile, what we imagine to be the joys of the world conceal only an abyss. So each of us should ask ourselves: do we dare to enter the path to find true happiness? If everyone here were to ordain, then every village would have a monk. But that is only a joke. For now, let us begin by planting the seeds of conditions (dependent origination), turning our hearts toward the Buddha, so that every village in Nghe An may gradually regain its beloved temple roofs."

The Meaning of the Story

The lesson Venerable Thich Chan Quang wished to convey is this: the temple, the monk, and the lay Buddhists are the three elements that form the spiritual life of a happy village. Worldly joy is only temporary, with suffering hidden behind it; only a life of practice, wakefulness, and compassion can bring lasting happiness. Therefore, each of us should cherish the temple, nurture a heart turned toward the Buddha, and encourage those with the affinity to enter the path of ordination, so as to preserve and develop the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) for our nation.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thich Chan Quang