The Heart Without Partiality

"Renunciation means leaving the family, stepping out of the household." The teacher’s voice resonated through the meditation hall during a dharma talk, filling the stillness with clarity. "Anyone can go to a temple to practice. When you sit and listen to the teachings, your mind settles; that is also cultivation. But true renunciation is different. Only those who have completely detached themselves, with no lingering ties or connections to their families, are called renunciants."

A lay Buddhist raised a hand. "Venerable sir, why must one leave the family? Is not the family happiness itself? Is it not sacred?"

The teacher nodded gently. "Indeed. The family is happiness, the place where blood ties are strongest. We are born into a family, raised by it, and then we create new families for ourselves. The love we hold for our kin is heavy and immense. This is what we call partiality. And," he spoke slowly, "this partiality is both our greatest joy and our most fatal weakness."

He continued, "If I were to give you one billion dong right now, what would be your first thought? Surely, you would bring it home to share with your children and grandchildren, to support your parents. Who among us would immediately distribute such wealth to the entire village? Only a renunciant can do this, because they no longer carry a private family in their heart."

"But," the teacher added, "such partiality is not easily abandoned. It is habit, emotion, bloodline, and heart. I remember when I first became a monk. Though I had left my home, lying at night, I still missed them. I worried about my younger siblings’ education and whether they lacked anything. My heart remained heavy. It takes gradual practice to truly let go."

He explained further, "In Buddhism, the highest attainment is Arhatship, reserved only for those who have eradicated all familial partiality. This is a mandatory condition. A lay practitioner may cultivate excellently and attain high stages of realization, but due to remaining partiality toward family, they can only reach the stage of Non-Returner (Anagami), never Arhatship. Only the renunciant, free from partiality, achieves the ultimate fruit."

The teacher cited two examples from the time of the Buddha. A general, suffering deeply after the death of his beloved concubine, heard a single dharma talk from the Buddha and attained Arhatship, subsequently entering nirvana. Queen Khema, living in royal luxury, also attained Arhatship upon hearing the teachings and had to renounce the world, as she could no longer live a secular life.

"Therefore," the teacher concluded, "the value of a renunciant lies in having no partiality toward a private family. Their compassionate heart extends across heaven and earth, embracing all sentient beings without favoring any individual. This is a difficult path requiring gradual transformation of the mind. Monks and nuns must constantly examine their hearts to see how much partiality remains toward their former families."

A monk from the lower rows stood up, pressing his palms together. "Venerable sir, I too fear when examining my own heart. I still miss home and worry for my family. Once, bad people threatened me, saying if I continued teaching the Dharma and patriotism, they would kill my family. I told them: If death comes, it is the karma of my parents and siblings. Do not use them to force me against my conscience. Yet, I still feel fear, and my heart is not yet entirely pure."

The teacher nodded, his gaze kind. "Fear is natural. This is part of the process. Keep practicing, keep transforming gradually. Until one day, when your heart is completely pure, white like a conch shell, free from all attachments, then you are truly a genuine renunciant. Only then can you live and work for the nation and the Dharma, not for any private relationship."

The Meaning of the Story

The core difference between a renunciant and a layperson lies in "partiality" toward the family. For laypeople, such partiality is normal. However, renunciants must strive to transform their minds, reducing and eventually eliminating this bias. Only then can the heart open wide to love all sentient beings equally, allowing one to reach the highest attainment in Buddhism. This is a arduous journey demanding persistent practice and profound inner transformation.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang