The Temple by the River with No Visitors

Every year, on the eighteenth day of the first lunar month, Vinh Phu Temple comes alive with the footsteps of devotees returning to light incense in memory of their departed loved ones. This beautiful tradition has been preserved for generations, creating a sacred and heartwarming day of gathering. And within that atmosphere, a story shared by Thay Thich Chan Quang about finding the true cause behind every event in life begins with a senior monk facing a difficult situation.

The senior monk's temple stood right by the river, in a favorable location, with architecture that was quite stately and pleasing to the eye. Yet, strangely, from the day of its inauguration until now, not a single devotee had come to light even a stick of incense. The senior monk invited Thay to visit, his voice full of worry:

"Please come visit my temple, Venerable. Why is it that since it was built, not one devotee has ever come to my temple?"

Thay walked into the temple grounds, gazed up at the architecture, and observed the river flowing before him. Listening to the senior monk's troubles, Thay keenly sensed that the problem was not as simple as it appeared. He spoke up:

"First of all, this temple has violated the principles of feng shui. The river is beautiful, flowing right in front, but it flows in the wrong way. So this temple is difficult to live in; whoever stays here probably won't live long."

That was an explanation based on geographical and feng shui knowledge, and it was partly true. But Thay knew that behind that visible truth lay a deeper cause, one belonging to cause and effect (karmic law). He turned to the senior monk and spoke slowly and clearly:

"But in truth, it lies in a deeper cause, one of cause and effect (karmic law). It is the cause and effect (karmic law) of the abbot himself. Often, an abbot has few conditions (dependent origination) with devotees, and because of that, people simply do not feel moved to come to the temple. This is also a secret. This is the real root of the problem."

The senior monk fell silent, his face thoughtful. Thay continued:

"As for conditions (dependent origination), when you came to build this temple in this area, in your past life you did not form wholesome connections with the beings here. And not only did you fail to form wholesome connections, but be careful — perhaps long ago you did something that made people resentful. So in this life, even though you have forgotten, people no longer think of the temple. That is why this must be corrected."

"How can it be corrected?" the senior monk asked, his voice eager to try anything.

"The way is this: you yourself, or your disciples, must go visit each household. If people do not come to the temple, then we must go to them. Just keep going. When two of you visit each family, speak about the teachings, offer blessings and good wishes, then move on to the next house and do the same — share a little of the teachings, offer blessings and good wishes. And if after making the rounds people still have not come to the temple, what then? Then go again. Next month, plan to go out visiting again. Sometimes you may visit for as long as three years before wholesome connections finally begin to form."

The image is truly vivid: two monastics riding bicycles or walking along village roads, knocking on door after door, not to deliver grand sermons, but simply to share a few words of the teachings and offer blessings. Some homes welcomed them; others were cold. Occasionally, the eyes of the villagers still showed wariness and distance. But they persevered, month after month.

"It is not easy," Thay said, as if understanding that hardship. "Gradually, the temple begins to have life, to show signs of renewal. Only then can we organize practice and teach the Dharma at that temple. Then people begin to see that coming to the temple brings benefit. Their children become better behaved after visiting the temple; people feel healthier after going, their hearts find peace, and sometimes even good fortune comes their way. From then on, people grow devoted to the temple. So to change that cause may take three or four years to complete — it is not as simple as performing some ritual and having the temple full of people a month later. That does not happen."

The senior monk listened, then let out a long sigh. The answer was not a magical miracle, but a patient process of sowing wholesome connections, step by step, step by step. Thay concluded:

"Therefore, we must find the true cause first, and only then can we adjust things correctly. And that adjustment may take five years, seven years — it is not easy."

That is a profound lesson. Finding the true cause requires wisdom, patience, and sometimes even the courage to face cause and effect (karmic law) from past lives we have long forgotten. No quick fix can replace that process.

## The Meaning of the Story

To resolve a problem in life, the most important thing is to find its true, deep-rooted cause. The cause may lie in surface factors, such as feng shui, but it is often hidden in deeper layers, belonging to cause and effect (karmic law) and wholesome connections from past lives that we do not remember. Only when we recognize the true cause can we adjust and resolve the problem effectively — even if doing so may require time, patience, and long-term effort, rather than being accomplished overnight.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang