The Novice (3 page)

Chapter Five

UNBEARABLE INJUSTICE

G
reat despair surged up from the utmost depths of the novice's being. Never could Kinh Tam have imagined that such a circumstance would occur. “Not so long ago,” Kinh Tam thought, “I was subjected to an outrageous case of false accusation. Now I have just become the victim of a second injustice, maybe even more intolerable.” But the novice did not allow the despair to take over completely. Kinh Tam stood silently, with palms joined, eyes closed, breathing with highly focused awareness.

Then the novice looked straight ahead and calmly addressed the chairman. “Respected chairman, respected village council, I am a monk, committed to rigorously observe the monastic vows I took. How could such a transgression occur? Lord Buddha above is my witness. I, novice Kinh Tam, assert that since the day of my ordination, I have never transgressed my vow of chastity, with any person. This young woman here must have mistaken me for another person.”

The words spoken by the novice were logical, clear, and solemn. The chairman turned to ask Mau to respond. In an incisively sharp tone, Mau simply repeated the story she had already given and once again kept her eyes downcast.

Novice Chi Tam was unable to restrain his furious temper. He screamed loudly, “Young lady, you should not falsely accuse my younger brother of such an offense. Six o'clock is when all three of us novices do our evening chanting. Novice Kinh Tam from his ordination till this day has never missed a period of evening chanting. How could he have been with you behind the patriarch's stupa at that time?”

Mau quickly backtracked on the point. “Maybe I did not remember the correct time. Maybe it was before the evening chanting session, between four and five o'clock in the afternoon.”

Seeing how resolute Mau was, the chairman ordered, “Thi Mau has confessed, but novice Kinh Tam refuses to admit his fault. Guards! Spread him out face down on the mat and strike him seven times with the raffia pole. Let's see whether this dishonest novice will continue to deny his grave offense.”

Two guards took Kinh Tam to the large straw mat in the middle of the courtyard and spread the novice's arms and legs out flat on the middle of the mat. One of the guards struck Kinh Tam repeatedly with the raffia pole, each blow sharp and hard.

Novice Chi Tam bellowed, “You will kill him, hitting him like that!” But his exclamation could not stop the guard. Although Kinh Tam took seven excruciating blows, the novice did not let out a single cry.

The abbot compassionately implored his student, “Kinh Tam, if you really were inadvertently so foolish, then you should truthfully confess to the village council. Then you can be cleansed of the wrong deed and begin anew as you continue with your monastic practice. I will try my best to gather enough money to pay the fine and compensation for you. Confess now, dear disciple, or else they will punish you with more blows that you will not be able to withstand. Your strength and stature are those of a scholar; you are not as strong as your elder brother Chi Tam.”

Novice Kinh Tam joined his palms and turned toward the abbot. “Respected teacher, as I did not transgress any vows, I cannot say that I did. Please, respected teacher, be compassionate and accept my determination not to concede to this false accusation.”

The chairman shouted another command for the guard to question and to strike Kinh Tam another thirty blows. Blood soaked through the novice's monastic attire. As the interrogation went on, Brother Thanh Tam could not endure any more. He sobbed out loud, covering his eyes with his two hands.

Abruptly, Thi Mau screamed. She stood up, walked toward the mat, and bellowed, “Go on hitting, keep striking the blows, and don't stop till he dies! And how about me? Strike me as well! Hit me till I also die!” Thi Mau tore at her clothes, beat her hands on her head, and pounded her chest.

Suddenly there was a loud clearing of the throat, and a baritone voice, deep as the sound of a large brass bell, boomed through the courtyard. It was the voice of the abbot of Dharma Cloud. The Zen teacher was standing and reciting a meditation verse:

The recitation was so solemn and powerful that it caused even the guard to stop his hand and look at the Zen teacher. The entire gathering froze in place.

After finishing the recitation, the abbot calmly spoke. “Respected chairman, respected members of the village council, in this turmoil the parties involved may have some dilemma that cannot be publicly shared at this time. I implore the chairman and members of the village council to open your compassionate hearts and show mercy by allowing me to take novice Kinh Tam back to the temple for further counsel and guidance. I truly believe that novice Kinh Tam does have the deep intention to live the monastic life. Over the entire past two years, never have I witnessed the novice transgressing any monastic precepts or fine manners, however minute. I ask to serve as surety for the novice, to bring him back to the temple, and, I hope, with more time to be able to find the truth of the matter. As a monk of long standing who has dwelled at Dharma Cloud Temple for over forty years, I beseech the village council to accept this request.”

The powerful words of the abbot moved the majority of the village council to nod their heads in agreement. The chairman moved to adjourn. The council decided to postpone the dispute for an unspecified period, and neither Kinh Tam nor Thi Mau had to pay any penalty during this time.

The abbot told the two elder novices to help Kinh Tam back to the temple.

Upon return to the temple, Kinh Tam asked the elder novices to bring a large tub of hot water into the room and take their leave for the night. The two elder novices acceded to Kinh Tam's request, even though they both felt deep compassion and wanted to help treat the wounds of their dear junior monk, for whom they had much respect.

Later that evening, while lying on the bed recovering, Kinh Tam heard knocking at the door. Asking who it was, the novice heard the voice of elder brother Thanh Tam. Thanh Tam had gone down to the village and gotten some herbal medicine that speeds up the healing of wounds. Kinh Tam asked the elder brother to leave the prepared bowl of medicine in front of the door. And, since Kinh Tam was in no condition to climb up to the bell tower to do the evening chanting, the novice asked Thanh Tam to take over the task for that evening and the following days.

Chapter Six

SHARPENING THE SWORD

W
aking up the next morning, despite the inescapable physical pain, Kinh Tam felt an extremely pleasant emotion that the novice had never previously experienced. Kinh Tam felt a whole new elation.

The previous day, the novice had been deeply torn between two choices, either to reveal the truth that would prove beyond any question Kinh Tam's innocence and put an end to all suspicion and interrogation, or to go on keeping the secret in order to be able to continue the life of a monastic. The novice simply did not have the strength to withstand the force of more blows. Kinh Tam had felt excruciating pain piercing to the bone each time the large raffia pole came thundering down. The novice tried hard to endure the pain and not scream or plead for mercy.

Kinh Tam knew that revealing the truth would stop the physical abuse and correct the injustice, but also that the truth would bring an immediate end to the novice's monastic life in the temple. The happiness of living that life was so enormous that Kinh Tam just could not part with it. Better to endure extreme pain and public scorn in order to retain the delight of living as a monastic.

“They falsely accused me; they reviled me and misunderstood me. They interrogated me and then violently punished me. But staying true to my ideal and my true happiness, I was able to endure with openness and magnanimity such flagrant injustice.” Lying in bed, the novice felt something like a kind of bliss. Kinh Tam realized that this lighthearted feeling of freedom was the result of the successful practice of inclusiveness, of magnanimity.

Five days later and largely recovered, Kinh Tam donned the saffron-colored ceremonial sanghati robe to prostrate in front of the abbot. Although the novice had not transgressed any vows or committed any offense, still it was because of Kinh Tam that this respected Zen teacher had to bear the brunt of many bad rumors. After the novice finished prostratiing and folded up the sanghati robe, the abbot told his young disciple to sit down. The two older novices were also present.

“According to the news your two elder brothers have presented, there's been quite a commotion about this incident in the village. Only a few people seem to have any understanding or compassion for you. The majority of the villagers tend to believe Mau's testimony. Everyone is talking about the charge and making a real mockery of it. We are in a grievous situation. You must be very careful, Kinh Tam.”

Novice Chi Tam joined his palms. “Respected teacher, those who understand and believe in us are the people who come regularly to hear the teachings and help out around the temple, and so had more interactions with you and with us novices. They are practicing the lay precept against speaking untruthfully, and although they have yet to understand the circumstances and may not fully believe that Kinh Tam is completely innocent, they have steadfastly refrained from ridiculing or saying anything disrespectful. Of course, the imprudent people are many. They have a penchant for listening to gossip and spreading rumors. There are those who question why the abbot has not already expelled novice Kinh Tam instead of allowing a person who transgressed his vows to continue to live in the temple. Dear respected teacher, it is true that our community is meeting with misfortune. I see that the three of us novices must do the practice of acknowledging our faults and beginning anew daily, to connect with the limitless wisdom of loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity to strengthen our endurance and rise above this calamity.”

The abbot looked at novice Kinh Tam. “Your elder brother's suggestion is apt. Though you are innocent and never transgressed your vows, you should still do the practice of acknowledging faults and beginning anew daily. I will also join you in doing the practice of beginning anew, my disciples. We will practice in order to completely cleanse all remnants of past unwholesome karmic actions, to renew our whole being and all our actions. I do not expect any of my disciples to be perfect or never make mistakes. No, my disciples; you, and I as well, we are not yet noble beings. I only require of you one thing: once you have committed an error, you need to learn the lessons it holds for you, so that you never commit it a second time. As long as you can do that, I will always be standing by you and supporting you, whether I am alive or have already passed away.”

Deeply moved by the abbot's compassionate words, all three novices stood up and prostrated three times in gratitude to their beloved teacher.

Later that evening, after the chanting session, Kinh Tam again came to prostrate before the abbot and asked for permission to put up a temporary thatched hut just outside the temple gates to dwell in. Kinh Tam explained that this might help reduce the derisiveness of the villagers' wagging tongues aimed at the abbot and the temple. At first the abbot demurred, but finally he relented after seeing that Kinh Tam was so eager and sincere about the request.

He advised, “You are my disciple, my spiritual child, and I have faith in you. I trust you to practice diligently in order to overcome your sorrows and the internal wounds of injustice. Whether or not you have erred, you are still my spiritual child, still my continuation. And I will do all I can to support you on your path of practice.”

Over the next few weeks, Kinh Tam labored with the two elder novices to build the thatched hut. During those days, a new aspirant arrived at the temple. The abbot accepted the request of Man, a seven-year-old boy, to live in the temple and become a student. Man was the son of Bac Hang, a fisherman of the next village. Man had been motherless since the age of three. Man was allowed to have his hair shaved off, except for a small patch on top, and to wear the nhat binh monastic robe. The little boy looked very quaint in that outfit. Man began to study and memorize the two daily chanting texts and to help the novices with the everyday tasks in the garden and the kitchen.

The thatched hut built by the novices was completed at last. It was outside the gates, but still on temple land. Although Kinh Tam lived in the hut, the novice was allowed to come into the temple and participate with the teacher and elder brothers in all chanting and beginning anew practices as well as working around the temple. It was still Kinh Tam's duty to ring the great bell every evening. The two elder brothers were very surprised when they neither saw any sadness on the novice's face nor heard any words of reproach toward anyone, even though people continued to slander and revile Kinh Tam. In a discussion on the practice, Thanh Tam asked Kinh Tam how the young novice was able to maintain such carefree and tranquil composure.

Kinh Tam answered, “It is because I have learned and am applying the practice of inclusiveness that I am able to avoid falling into suffering and reproach. Practicing magnanimity brings us away from the shore of sorrows and over to the shore of freedom and happiness.
Paramita,
as my elder brothers already know, means ‘crossing over to the other shore.' According to
The Collection on the Six Paramitas,
the Buddha taught:

Kinh Tam then quoted a section from a sutra in which the Buddha talks about putting a handful of salt into a small bowl of water. That bowl of water will be too salty for a thirsty person to drink. If, however, one were to toss that same handful of salt into a river, the situation would be completely different. Although the amount of salt is the same, it cannot cause the river to become too salty, because the river is so immense and the water is in constant flux, day and night. Anyone taking a drink from the river would find freshwater and not be bothered by the addition of a handful of salt.

The novice continued to share. “When we truly practice looking deeply, then we have a chance to understand better and to be more accepting. Our hearts naturally open up, becoming vast like the oceans and rivers. In understanding the sorrows and difficulties of others, we are able to accept and feel compassion for them, even if they have caused us difficulties, treated us unfairly, brought disaster upon us, or unjustly harassed us. Due to desire, vengeance, ignorance, and jealousy, people have made numerous mistakes and caused much suffering to themselves and others. If we can comprehend this, then we will no longer condemn or resent others. As we become more inclusive, our hearts and minds will be at peace.”

In closing, novice Kinh Tam continued, “Being magnanimous does not mean suppressing suffering, nor does it mean gritting our teeth and bearing things with resentment or even resignation. These reactions are not inclusiveness or magnanimity (
kshanti paramita
) and cannot take us over to the other shore. We must practice deep looking and contemplation in order to understand and cultivate loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. In cultivating loving-kindness, we offer happiness; in nurturing compassion, we relieve others' suffering; practicing diligently strengthens our inner source of joy; and developing equanimity helps us let go of all hatred, prejudices, and entanglements. When our heart is filled with loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity, its capacity becomes boundless, im-measurable. With such an expansive heart, immense as the wide-open sea, those blatant injustices and suffering cannot overpower us, just as a small handful of salt cannot make a great river salty. Because I have been able to learn and apply the practice of these Four Immeasurable Minds, I can continue to live, to go deeper into the practice, and to find happiness in the life of a monk.”

Listening to Kinh Tam's statements, the elder novices had much admiration and happiness for their younger brother. Novice Chi Tam went the next morning and related their conversation to the abbot, who was also very pleased.

The sneering in the village over the scandal eventually quieted down—that is, until Mau completed the term of her pregnancy and gave birth to the child. In a fit of anger, Mau's father declared that Mau should take the baby to the person to whom it belonged, as he could not accept the presence of an out-of-wedlock child in his home. Still, Mau dared not reveal the truth. She didn't know what she should do. In the end, she audaciously took the newborn child to the temple and left it in the care of novice Kinh Tam.