The Rich and the Poor at the Temple

On a quiet Sunday afternoon, the temple was emptier than usual. A middle-aged man entered through the gate, carrying an expensive leather briefcase. His clothes were polished, and his face radiated confidence. He walked straight to the main hall, bowed to the Buddha, and sat on a chair to wait. Shortly after, an elderly woman arrived wearing faded brown robes. She carried a plastic bag with a few fruits, stepping quietly into the grounds. She did not dare enter the main hall, standing instead in the corner of the porch, her eyes cast downward.

A young monk rushed out to greet the wealthy man, inviting him to the guest room, pouring tea, and asking about his well-being with great care. Meanwhile, no one noticed the poor woman. She stood there for an hour before slipping away silently. This scene repeats itself in many temples. Poor visitors often feel inferior. They rarely dare to meet the abbot, preferring to sweep leaves in the courtyard or sit far away. The rich, however, walk confidently into the most prestigious spaces, accustomed to warm welcomes.

One day, a humble Buddhist practitioner asked me, "Venerable sir, why do teachers welcome the rich so warmly, yet when I come, I am only pointed to a water jug? No one asks how I am. I feel deeply humiliated." Looking at this devotee, my heart sank. I knew their pain was not just material lack, but the feeling of being abandoned and disrespected. Yet, I could not speak ill of monastics. I gently replied, "Dear friend, we simply have less merit from past lives. Because we did not cultivate blessings or care for others previously, we do not attract attention now. Practice diligently, and things will change."

The devotee fell silent, bowed, and left. But their question haunted me. I thought, "It is wrong for monastics to discriminate based on wealth. Why do they behave this way?" In truth, the wealthy possess invisible merit. Because they cared for and helped others in past lives, they now have radiant faces, dignified postures, and natural charisma. When they visit a temple, this merit automatically draws attention, even from those who have renounced the world. The poor, having less merit, often seem invisible to others.

However, this applies to those who have not truly practiced. Genuine practitioners must be different. They must maintain a mind of equality, unaffected by external appearances. When meeting the rich, they are not captivated; when meeting the poor, they do not distance themselves. On the contrary, those with wisdom pay more attention to the poor, knowing that poverty breeds insecurity and feelings of neglect.

I recall once seeing a small child with dwarfism at a temple. The child was tiny, with features others might deem unattractive. He came alone, unnoticed by anyone. I approached him, took his hand, and asked, "What is your name? Where do you live? Do you like coming to the temple?" He looked up, his eyes brightening as he offered a rare smile. I realized that such a small gesture was enough to ease his sense of inferiority.

Another time, several poor apprentice workers visited the temple. They sat around the pond, ignored by everyone. Despite my illness and fatigue, I leaned on my cane, walked over, and spoke with them for a while. Afterwards, I scolded my disciples responsible for guests: "Why did you not attend to them? People come to the temple seeking compassion. If they are poor and insecure, we must compensate for their lack of care. Even though I am tired, I went to welcome them because you neglected your duty. You must learn to care for the poor, rather than focusing solely on the rich."

The wealthy already receive ample attention. They are welcomed warmly wherever they go. If we mimic this behavior, we only inflate their pride. But if we ignore the poor, they withdraw further, feeling increasingly abandoned. Equality does not mean treating everyone identically in a mechanical way. True equality is a moral attitude in communication: neither favoring the rich nor despising the poor. Above all, it requires paying special attention to the vulnerable, offering them the emotional support and care they lack.