The Strength of Reverence

As the afternoon sun slanted through the living room window, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor, a heavy silence filled the house. A husband and wife sat opposite each other on the sofa, their tea cups untouched and cold for hours. The husband kept his head bowed, fingers interlaced so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the strain. His wife’s eyes were red-rimmed, occasionally dabbing at tears with a handkerchief as they threatened to spill over.

They had just returned from the temple after listening to a dharma talk by the teacher. A troubling question still echoed in their minds: "Why has our son changed so suddenly?" In the past, he was the pride of the family—obedient, polite, and always rushing to hug his parents when returning from school. But since entering tenth grade, everything had shifted. He began closing his bedroom door, answering curtly, and intimate conversations gave way to silence or dissatisfied shakes of the head. They felt as though they were losing their son, even though he lived under the same roof.

The wife sighed, her voice choked with emotion. "I am afraid," she said. "He no longer listens to us. Every time we remind him of something, he gets angry and leaves to play with friends. Did we raise him incorrectly? Or is this generation simply spoiled?"

The husband looked up, his tired gaze drifting toward the darkening garden. "I do not know either," he replied. "We have been strict since he was small, attentive to every detail. Yet now, there seems to be an invisible wall between father and son. I remember how he used to share stories about school with me; now he avoids my questions, saying only 'I know' or 'Nothing.'"

In that moment, the teacher’s words from the dharma talk rushed back into their minds with clarity. The teacher had explained that the cause might not lie solely in teenage rebellion, but in the nature of two different types of relationships: friendship versus parent-child bonds. With friends, the relationship is equal, comfortable, and easy, requiring no inner effort to maintain respect. With parents, however, the relationship demands seriousness, obedience, and reverence—qualities that require a strong inner power to sustain.

The husband suddenly understood. Turning to his wife, his voice softened but remained thoughtful. "The teacher was right," he said. "When our son was young, he was accustomed to 'straining' himself to show respect to us. But as he grew older, he discovered that being with friends was much easier and more comfortable. People naturally prefer what is easy first. That is why he chooses his friends."

The wife wiped her tears and nodded deeply. "So what should we do? Force him to respect us as before?"

"No," the husband answered, a new spark of hope lighting his eyes. "The teacher advised us to try creating a sense of comfort when he is with us, similar to how he feels with his friends. If we are always strict and demand absolute obedience, he will only want to escape. We need to balance necessary discipline with closeness and sharing."

Looking at each other, the couple felt the earlier heaviness gradually dissolve, replaced by a renewed determination. They realized that the issue was not merely about parenting skills, but also a lesson in inner strength. To awaken genuine reverence—whether toward parents or toward the Buddha—one needs a mind that is sufficiently powerful, wise, and ethical. A weak or superficial soul can never perceive the depth of respect, leading instead to indifference or defiance.

From that night on, they began to change their approach. Instead of dry lectures, they dedicated time to listening to their son, watching movies together, playing sports, and creating joyful, equal moments. Gradually, the invisible wall began to crack. Their son saw his parents not as harsh judges, but as trustworthy elder friends. And within that comfort, true reverence began to blossom—not out of fear, but out of love and admiration.

The Meaning of the Story

This story illustrates the core teaching behind the practice of "Revering the Buddhas." True reverence is not an outward behavior, but the result of an inner life possessing strength, wisdom, and blessings from merit. Only those with a stable inner foundation can generate sincere respect for holy beings and the Buddha. The absence of reverence often stems from a weak or superficial soul, lacking the capacity to transcend the selfish ego to admire greatness. Therefore, spiritual practice is the training of the mind to become strong, enabling one to fully perform the virtue of reverence and accumulate boundless merit.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang