The Difficult Choice Between Two Lives

The Venerable's voice became warm and resonant, inviting everyone to reflect on a pressing issue: why, particularly in Nghệ An province and throughout the country, are there so few abbots in monasteries? The answer does not lie in a lack of land to build temples, but in a shortage of people willing to step onto the path of monasticism.

The Venerable posed a dramatic hypothetical situation. Imagine you stand at a crossroads. To the left is the vividly colorful worldly life: you wear fine clothes, ride a motorbike with a jingle, go to karaoke, eat and drink to your heart's content, and most importantly, you receive love and praise. To the right is life within the temple: a shaved head, simple brown robes, adherence to two hundred and fifty precepts (for monks) or three hundred and forty-eight precepts (for nuns), daily chanting of sutras, seated meditation, living in solitary and serious dedication.

The Venerable joked, but with underlying sadness: "If everyone here all went to become monastics, then we would have enough monks to supply for every village." The harsh reality is that very few choose the path to the right. Why? Because from the outside, worldly life seems overwhelmingly attractive. Music changes constantly, food is diverse, and emotions flourish. Meanwhile, within the temple, the same sutras are recited again and again, and life is so quiet it might seem boring.

Many temples have tried using "tricks" to create monastics. They raise orphaned children or coax young children into the temple from an early age, hoping they would grow accustomed to the lifestyle and voluntarily ordain later. But the result is often the opposite. When these children mature and encounter mainstream education, they realize their freedom to choose. There have been boys who left the temple at eighteen, offering their teacher a cold farewell: "Thank you, Teacher, for raising me. Bye bye." Then they disappear into the rushing current of society.

The Venerable analyzed the nature of worldly "joy" more deeply. He asked: "When someone praises you, you are happy. When someone criticizes you, you are sad. Your mind/heart is swayed by praise and blame. Is that sustainable happiness?" Or when in love, receiving a text saying "I miss you" feels wonderful. But if you discover your partner has been unfaithful, or simply that the affection has faded, you suffer immensely. The Buddha pointed out: worldly joy is small, suffering is great, and behind the temporary glitter lies an abyss of unease.

Conversely, those who choose the monastic path embrace a different way of living. They are not enslaved to fleeting emotions. When praised, they remain calm and grateful. When scolded, they smile and forgive. They do not place their happiness in the hands of one easily changeable person, but extend compassion to all beings. This tranquility, this unshakability amidst life's storms, is the pinnacle of happiness that outsiders find difficult to perceive without truly stepping into and practicing the path.

THE MEANING OF THE STORY

The story clarifies the deep-rooted cause of the shortage of monastics: the confusion between the short-term, externally-dependent joys of the world and the sustainable, internally-governed happiness of the Buddhist path. The lesson drawn is: to have more monastics, we need to help the community correctly understand the value of a pure life. True happiness does not lie in possessing or being loved by one individual, but in peace, self-possession, and boundless compassion. Only through practice can one taste the sweet nectar of liberation from the cycle of praise and blame, love and hate.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang