The Scar of Violence in the Sangha

**Summary:** The story of six aggressive monks who seized lodging by force and the violent reaction of thirty young monks, leading to the Buddha’s core teaching on using oneself as a reference to refrain from killing.

That afternoon, pale golden sunlight slanted through the shady branches at a newly built monastery. The atmosphere, once serene and peaceful, was suddenly torn apart by fierce shouts and heavy punches echoing across the courtyard.

The story began when the World-Honored One and his assembly of monks arrived at this new dwelling. Some young monks, out of reverence and a sense of order, had quickly arranged their belongings, finding small, neat, clean corners of rooms to settle for the night. They were newly ordained, still retaining their innocence and strict adherence to discipline. However, just as they were about to lay down their robes, the figures of six monks notorious by the nickname “the Group of Six”—a sextet known for causing trouble in the Sangha—appeared. They were not masters of virtuous conduct, but rather individuals with a thuggish nature, accustomed to using force to impose their will.

One of the six, his face a thundercloud, strode directly up to a young novice sitting in meditative concentration. Without any warning, he grabbed the novice by the collar and yanked him violently to the ground. A dry “crack” of bone and joint striking the brick floor sounded, followed by a painful, desperate cry. Others from the Group of Six also lunged in, using elbows and knees to strike and kick, brutally driving the young monks out and seizing their lodgings. The action was no different from real-life street gangs, except it occurred right within the heart of a spiritual community.

The beaten young monks felt humiliated and furious. They looked at each other with eyes red and swollen from resentment. One of the older ones among the young monks, his voice trembling but full of hatred, whispered to the others:

“We outnumber them. Thirty against six. Tonight, prepare clubs. When they are deep asleep, we will have our revenge. We must teach them what respect means!”

A plan for revenge formed in the shadows. The thirty young monks secretly gathered dry branches, sharpening them into makeshift weapons. Their initial fear had transformed into blind rage. They waited for nightfall, when justice seemed absent, to personally execute “the law of the jungle.” If this brawl occurred, bloodshed could happen, and blood would be spilled on this very sacred ground.

The Buddha, with the eye of wisdom that sees through all minds, was fully aware of the situation. He did not rush to intervene with authority or immediate punishment. Instead, he summoned the entire Sangha, including the six aggressors and the thirty monks harboring vengeance. Before the tense silence, the Buddha spoke in a gentle yet resonant voice, reciting a verse from the Dhammapada:

“Everyone fears punishment, everyone fears death. Using oneself as a reference, do not kill, nor encourage killing.”

The teaching was like a ladle of cold water poured over the furious flames within the thirty young monks. They froze, and the clubs in their hands slowly lowered. The vivid images of their own beating and the threat to their own lives returned to their minds. They realized that if they fought back, they would become as cruel as the six aggressors. The fear of death and the pain of the body are the most common things for all living beings.

The Buddha then continued to explain the psychological aspect more deeply: “If you understand your own mental state when beaten and threatened, then deduce that others feel exactly the same. Never do what you would not want to endure.” This teaching was not based on divine commands or absolute authority, but on deep empathy—using one’s own experience of suffering as the measure for how to treat others.

In the quiet space after the dharma talk, the six aggressive monks hung their heads, not daring to look directly at those they had harmed. And the thirty young monks, instead of picking up their clubs, began to cry. Those were tears of remorse for allowing evil to trigger more evil, and also tears of enlightenment. They understood that violence does not solve problems but only creates a vortex of karma from which there is no escape.

**The Meaning of the Story**

This story illustrates the core Buddhist philosophy of peace and non-violence: “Using oneself as a reference” (Atta hi attano natho). The moral lesson emphasizes that instead of following rigid dogmas or judging in the name of deities, people should use empathy and wisdom. When we understand our own pain and fear, we naturally stop causing harm to others. This is the foundation of universal ethics, helping to stop the spread of evil within the community and transform conflict into understanding.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang