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How and When to Practice in Community

I'm going to talk about Sutta Majjhima Nikaya 128^[1] as it's interpreted by Ajahn Sucitto^[2]—no, Bhikkhu Sujato^[3]. Let me make sure I got that right, yeah. I'm using his translation. I don't know Pali^[4], so there are interpretations of interpretations. I'm just sharing freely as I read through this sutta, kind of the things that came up for me and what it made me think about. There are things that are both directly said and then there are things that are demonstrated in the way that the story is told. I think it's really worthwhile to recognize that the Buddha taught not just in the words that he shared, but in the way he behaved.

There is so much in the sutta. I'm planning to do one pass of it today and another pass tomorrow night, focusing today on the aspects of relationship, community, and practice, and tomorrow on the corruptions or the things that get in the way of community and practice. The sutta is translated as "Corruptions." The translation of "corruptions" is essentially things that don't belong, that kind of come into play and just corrode or disrupt, make problems.

Because of the way I want to share the sutta, I think I'll give you first just a brief summary of the whole arc of the story. Then, as I go through, you'll have a map of sort of where we're going, and hopefully, it'll help you keep track. As I was reading and rereading the sutta, noticing what was coming up for me, I invite you to do the same. I invite you to be curious and interested in how your own mind responds, what associations your mind makes. Along the way, I'll be opening up and inviting you to share if you want to share any of your own personal reflections. I think we have an opportunity to learn from each other in this way.

The summary of this sutta is that the Buddha goes out of compassion to a Sangha^[5] that's in conflict. When he gets there, he tries three times to halt the argument and engage them, but he doesn't succeed, so he moves on. Then, he visits a single meditator, connects with him, asks him how he is, and then teaches him Dhamma^[6], instructs, and inspires him. After that, he moves on to a park where there are three companions living together, described as living together with love, loving themselves. He asks them how they're doing in a number of ways—I'll go into the details later—if they're getting along, if they're living in harmony. When he finds out yes they are indeed, he goes on to ask about their practice and how they are progressing in their own meditation practice. Then he teaches them about his own experience with difficulties or blocks, or corruptions to his meditation, to help them find a way free from the corruptions that are arising in their own practice.

So, right away we see the Buddha goes, responding out of compassion to a Sangha that's in conflict. At the time that he was asked to go, he was staying in a monastery. We can assume that he was able to meditate and practice, that he had food and shelter and companions who were also practicing. There was a mendicant^[7] from Kosambi^[8] who came and told the Buddha that at Kosambi they were arguing, quarreling, disputing, and continually wounding each other with barbed words.

A mendicant is someone who practices relying chiefly or exclusively on alms to survive. In principle, mendicants across multiple religious orders have little property. In many instances, they've taken vows of poverty in order that all their time and energy could be expended on practicing their respective faith, preaching, and serving society.

So at Kosambi, where they're quarreling and brawling and in deep disputes—another translation says "stabbing each other with verbal daggers"—they're clearly not doing the other parts of being a mendicant.

To help provide a contrast, I'm going to reference a different sutta where someone describes the Buddha's community of practitioners when he comes upon them. This visitor first references how he's seen other communities like Kosambi, and then he comes to the Buddha's and says, "But here I see bhikkhus^[9] smiling and cheerful, sincerely joyful, plainly delighting, with their faculties fresh, living at ease, unruffled, subsisting on what others give, abiding with a mind as aloof as a wild steer." There is just this huge contrast in what happens in communities based on how we're practicing and living with each other.

The Buddha goes to Kosambi. He consented in silence when asked; he just got up and went. When he arrives, the sutta says, he said, "Enough, mendicants, stop arguing, quarreling, and disputing." The Buddha repeats this three times. Each time, I'm assuming it's the mendicant that came to ask him to come—it doesn't say explicitly—the mendicant says to the Buddha, "Wait, sir. Let the Buddha, the Lord of the Dhamma, remain passive, dwelling in blissful meditation in the present life. We will be known for this arguing, quarreling, and disputing."

Three times the Buddha says, "Enough. Stop quarreling, stop disputing," and three times the mendicant responds, "Wait, wait, you live passive, dwelling in blissful meditation." Another thing to notice when the Buddha comes and immediately tells them to stop, and they don't listen, is that there's no reception for the Buddha. There's no greeting of the Buddha when he arrives; there's no listening to the Buddha.

In the morning, the Buddha robed up and took his bowl and robe and entered Kosambi for alms. After the meal, on his return from alms round, he set his lodgings in order. Taking his bowl and robe, he recited these verses while standing right there. The Buddha is quite direct in these phrases, like a poem that he speaks. He doesn't mince words. It's very direct, and I think this is also a teaching. The Buddha is not being unkind. He didn't yell, he didn't argue himself; he just asked them to stop three times. So he's preparing to leave with clarity.

He says: "When many voices shout at once, no one thinks that they're a fool. While the Sangha is being split, none thought another to do better. Adults, yes, adults pretending to be astute, they talk their words right out of bounds, they blab at will, their mouths agape, and no one knows what leads them on."

And then he says: "'They abused me, they hit me, they beat me, they robbed me.' For those who bear such a grudge, hatred never ends. 'They abused me, they hit me, they beat me, they robbed me.' For those who bear no such grudge, who don't go on in this way, hatred has an end. For never is hatred settled by hate; it is settled by love. This is an eternal truth."

There's a similar verse in the Dhammapada^[10], so I'll reference it here to sort of savor this teaching a little bit. It includes this explicit teaching on how the mind precedes what happens: "All experience is preceded by mind, led by mind, made by mind. Speak or act with a corrupted mind, and suffering follows, as the wagon wheel follows the hoof of the ox." "All experience is preceded by mind, led by mind, made by mind. Speak or act with a peaceful mind, and happiness follows like a never-departing shadow. Hatred never ends through hatred; by non-hatred alone does it end. This is an ancient truth."

So we go back to his poem, and he says: "Others don't understand that here we need to be restrained, but those who do understand this, being clever, settle their conflicts."

Something in here is really important to me, which is that things are going to come up. When we're living and practicing in community, we're going to have conflict and differences. What he's saying is to be restrained about how you respond to that conflict and settle it. So being clever, wise, settle your conflicts. The Buddha is encouraging us to deal directly with conflict. He's not saying be passive, try and be "nicey-nice," happy-happy all the time. He's implying that it's natural for difficulties to arise in relationship, but that operating from hatred will not help. It won't end the conflict.

Another thing about this is "being clever." The Buddha is emphasizing wisdom when he uses the word "clever." Wisdom is praised as the most important thing. The wisdom that is praised the most is not knowledge that one has acquired; it's not being able to recite the texts or tell people things. The wisdom that is praised is a form of penetrative seeing directly into one's aspect of life. It comes from the application of the teachings, from experience. In the Buddha's teaching, wisdom plays a central role in the path to liberation. Not only does it lead to enlightenment, it is a result of enlightenment.

The Buddha is referencing earlier the people who were debating, talking, and thinking they're right. That's getting caught in views—your assertions, your intellect versus somebody else's. That's not the kind of wisdom that the Buddha is encouraging us to cultivate.

Back to the poem, the Buddha says: "Breakers of bones and takers of life, thieves of cattle, horses, wealth, those who plunder the nation—even they can come together, so why on earth can't you?"

Then he goes on to say something else that's really important. I'll read these lines one at a time: "If you find an alert companion, a wise and virtuous friend, then overcoming all adversities, wander with them joyful and mindful. If you find no alert companion, no wise and virtuous friend, then like a king who flees his conquered realm, wander alone like a tusker in the wilds."

Again, this goes back to how the Buddha went to this community in conflict, tried to help, but there was no wisdom there, no engagement there, so he left. He's going to go off on his own.

Sometimes we need to do the same. One of the things about what the Buddha did that I think is really important is that he invited them to stop three times. I think this is also a teaching. How often do we keep trying and keep trying, beating our head against the wall, and other times we walk away too soon? I like this idea of trying three times. It's a nice number. There's a balance here; we're not just coming in and expecting everything to be okay and fine right away. We try, and we try again, but at some point, maybe after three times, we recognize they're not here. This notion of the king with a conquered kingdom—it's like the Buddha is the king of the Dhamma, and in this little Sangha, there's no Dhamma happening. There's a lot of conflict.

So he leaves. He doesn't try to take them with him; it's just, "Okay, I'm moving on." At the same time, when we find wise companions, it's such a blessing. It's such a blessing to come here and sit with you all, to feel the support of sitting in community, to go on a retreat and have the incredible support of watching everybody else sit in stillness and quiet. There's so much support that happens in that realm. And there's times for practice alone, too.

A modern term for what the Buddha is demonstrating might be the word "boundaries." He had good boundaries—his own clarity about what he was willing to do and not do, where he could help, where he couldn't help.

Reflections from the Community

Maybe this is a moment to ask, is anyone else having other associations or thoughts that you would like to share? It's fine if not, just an open invitation. Martha will have a microphone right up there. If anyone has anything else they're noticing or picking up on—oh great, we've got two people. Thank you.

Participant 1: I was just thinking, one reason for the conflict is a real attachment to views—a real attachment to, not necessarily being right, but what their thoughts are in their argument, and being unwilling to let that go.

Tanya Wiser: Yeah, absolutely. Can you pass it to her in the corner?

Participant 2: I'm not sure what I want to say, but I really appreciate this talk. It's resonating with me. It's this ego knowing I'm right in a relationship or something, and I'm just really hearing like, "No." So thank you.

Tanya Wiser: Beautiful, beautiful. Over here.

Participant 3: I had a spiritual advisor many years ago who had a phrase that has helped me a great deal in my life, and that is: "Being right is a disease." Very, very diseaseful. [Laughter]

Tanya Wiser: I love it. I so appreciate you sharing these reflections because when we study together, when we practice the Dhamma together, there's so much wisdom. Everyone is going to see it a little differently or approach it and feel it a little differently. That's engagement with the practice, which is the most important thing—to engage with the teachings, to feel them, to allow them to guide you, and for you to notice what comes up in relationship to them.

Another part that I wanted to reflect on is that I think some people get stuck in communities or relationships because they don't want to be alone. It's hard to leave people, and I'm not endorsing quickly leaving relationships, obviously. But it's also important to remember that it is possible to find joy and well-being when awareness is your companion. When you get to be the tusker, the elephant in the woods, walking confidently. The elephant is the biggest beast in the wild, so they have a certain gravity to them and strength to them. They're also slow, and are said to have good memories. There's a lot of reasons I think the Buddha probably referenced elephants. If we're walking in that way in the world, with that confidence instead of fear, it's much easier to find joy and a sense of well-being.

So the final line in this poem from the Buddha is: "It's better to wander alone. There's no fellowship with fools. Wander alone and do no wrong, at ease like a tusker in the wild."

Visiting Bhagu

The Buddha moves on, and he goes to visit a mendicant named Bhagu^[11] in a village.

As the Buddha approaches, Bhagu saw the Buddha coming off in the distance. So what did he do? He spread out a seat and placed water for washing the feet. When the Buddha came, he sat on the seat spread out for him and washed his feet, and then Bhagu bowed to the Buddha and sat down to one side.

I mentioned this earlier, but this is quite a contrast. How the Buddha is being received in this setting is very different. I wonder, in our modern-day times, what's the equivalent of greeting someone in this way? A respected teacher—laying out a seat, putting water for the feet to wash. What might we do? What do we do when someone we care for, we respect, and maybe even revere comes to visit?

We offer them tea, water to drink, invite them to have a seat somewhere comfortable, ask them if they need food, if they're hungry. We welcome them: "Please make yourself at home. Please feel free to use my bathroom." Important, right? [Laughter]

And then if somebody really important comes—I love the images of the Dalai Lama when he goes to visit places. There is always this intense greeting. Actually, I have a story about him greeting. He went to IMS (Insight Meditation Society) in Massachusetts, and Sharon Salzberg was there in the back of the audience standing. She had a broken leg, so she was on crutches and pretty miserable. The Dalai Lama is coming with this whole entourage of people and security guards and all this stuff. But the Dalai Lama arrives, looks around at all the people, and he zeroes right in on Sharon Salzberg standing in the back, looking pretty miserable. He goes right back to her and asks her, "Are you okay? How are you, dear?" That's so beautiful. Not only are we welcoming him when he comes, but he's caring for us.

And then when he leaves a place, if he stays at a hotel—I'm told these are stories, but I believe them—before he goes, he has all the people who work at the hotel, everyone who has served him, stand in a long line. He goes and grabs their hand or bows to every one of them, one at a time.

I also heard a story about someone who was in an airport, waiting in some lounge area with a couple of other people. The Dalai Lama and his entourage walk right past them. They're off in this little corner, and the group goes by, but then the Dalai Lama turns around, comes back, and bows to them. So sweet.

I have a quote from Lama Rod Owens. He says, "At the heart of radical presence is simply the act of love. Loving ourselves, loving others, and allowing that love to be deeply manifested in the world in a real clear way." Those, to me, are beautiful demonstrations of bringing love to the world, manifesting in a real, clear way.

So the Buddha, having sat down and washed his feet—back to the sutta—he says to the mendicant, "I hope you're keeping well, mendicant. I hope you're all right, and I hope you're having no trouble getting alms food." That's very touching to me. This amazing teacher is coming, giving his presence to you, and he asks you if you're doing well, if you're getting enough to eat.

This is like the Dalai Lama taking the time to express care. So I ask you: how do you greet people? How do you welcome them? How do you express your care for them? What do you say? How do you let them know that you sincerely want to know how they are—not just a passing "Hey, how you doing?" with a "Fine" response, but maybe something more than that.

Bhagu says to the Buddha, "I'm keeping well, sir. I'm all right, and I'm having no trouble getting alms food." Nice. And when the Buddha hears that, he goes on and he educates, encourages, fires up, and inspires Bhagu with a Dhamma talk.

It's nice, not just like, "Hi, how are you?" but making sure he's okay, his needs are met. Then the Buddha goes to practice; he goes to the Dhamma. First, he makes sure you're okay, and then he goes to the Dhamma, because making sure you're okay is the Dhamma. It's an expression of the Dhamma.

So the Buddha educated, encouraged—I love this—fired up, and inspired Bhagu. Bhagu is practicing by himself; he's not described as being with anyone else. So it's okay. Sometimes practicing alone is just the right thing.

The Buddha offers him the Dhamma, and then he gets up and sets out for the Eastern Bamboo Park.

Three Companions in the Eastern Bamboo Park

At that time, at the Eastern Bamboo Park, there were the venerables Anuruddha^[12], Nandiya^[13], and Kimbila^[14].

The Buddha is approaching, and the park keeper sees the Buddha coming. He clearly doesn't know who the Buddha is, and he says to the Buddha, "Don't come into this park, ascetic. There are three gentlemen who love themselves staying here. Do not disturb them." I love that: "There are three gentlemen who love themselves staying here." That is so sweet. Don't bother them.

But Anuruddha sees the Buddha, so he lets the security person know and says, "Come forth, venerables, come forth! Our teacher, the Blessed One, has arrived."

They go out and receive the Buddha's bowl and robe. One spreads out a seat, and one sets out water for washing his feet. The Buddha sat on the seat spread out, washed his feet, and the venerables bowed and sat down to one side.

The Buddha says to Anuruddha, "I hope you're keeping well, Anuruddha and friends. I hope you're all right, and I hope you're having no trouble getting alms food." Keeping well: I just thought I'd define what that means. Good or satisfactory, skillfully, ably, competently, adeptly, admirably, excellently. "Keeping well." "All right" synonyms are satisfactory, acceptable, adequate, good enough, fine, reasonable, unobjectionable, suitable. And then "getting alms food": "getting" is to come to have or hold, to receive, and "food" is the nutritious substance that we need in order to maintain life and growth. They say, "We're keeping well, sir. We're all right, and we're having no trouble getting alms food."

Now this is the Buddha talking to a community. Instead of going right into teaching the Dhamma, the Buddha says, "I hope you're living in harmony, appreciating each other without quarreling, blending like milk and water, and regarding each other with kindly eyes." Wow.

"Living in harmony" is a pact of peace and concord, agreement, consensus, unity, concert. "Mutual appreciation"—mutual meaning experienced or done by each toward the others, reciprocal, reciprocated, returned, interchangeable, common. "Appreciation" is the recognition and enjoyment of the good qualities of someone or something, valuing, respecting, prizing, cherishing, treasuring, and admiration. "Without quarreling" is in the absence of quarreling. "Blending" is the action of mixing or combining things together: mingle, combine, join, incorporate, interflow, commix.

There's something in this passage that sometimes people have a little bit of a hard time with, and that's this idea of blending like milk and water, regarding each other with kindly eyes, appreciating each other. When they go on, they say, "Indeed, sir, we live in harmony as you say." I love this. Then the Buddha asks, "Well, how do you live this way? How do you do that?" Because we need to know. It's great when things are going well, but if we don't know what we're doing to support those conditions, it's easy to take them for granted and stop doing the things that are allowing it to happen, to manifest.

They answer that they're doing well, and Anuruddha says, "In this case, sir, I think I'm fortunate, so very fortunate to live together with spiritual companions such as these. I consistently treat these venerables with kindness by way of body, speech, and mind, both in public and in private. I think, 'Why don't I set aside my own ideas and just go along with these venerables' ideas?' And that's what I do. Though we're different in bodies, sir, we're one in mind, it seems to me."

Here's where people can get a little bit tangled up, when they have been in a situation where they feel like they're constantly doing for others and that it's not reciprocal. I pointed out the way the Buddha is teaching us is not just to give when it's not reciprocal, when it's not valued, when it's in a way that isn't useful for us. It should be helpful to me, to you, and both. But this community is living in a mutual way. They're sharing collectively in this way of relating to each other.

Remember, the Buddha earlier said if your companions aren't treating you well, it's better to go practice on your own. There's this nice quote from a woman named Maria Popova, and she talks about codependence, because I think sometimes people are fearful of being codependent or being taken advantage of. She says: "When you love, truly love somebody, there is no version of reality in which what is good for them is bad for you. No choice they could possibly make that is right for them and wrong for you, nothing they could give you that could make love more complete. This is a difficult notion for the Western mind to grasp—too easily to mistake for the psychopathology of codependence, too quick to slip into the tyrannical romantic ideal of merging. At its heart is something else altogether: a kind of transcendent ego dissolution under which the self ceases to be and becomes being."

Back to the sutta. The other two companions spoke and added that's how they live in harmony. They're concurring with Anuruddha. The mutuality is here: appreciating each other without quarreling, blending like milk and water, and regarding each other with kindly eyes.

The Buddha says, "Good, good, Anuruddha and friends." And then he says, "But I hope you're living diligently, keen, and resolute."

"Diligent": having care and conscientiousness in one's work and duties. "Keen": having or showing eagerness or enthusiasm. "Resolute": admirably purposeful, determined, and unwavering.

They say, "Indeed, sir, we live diligently." Then the Buddha asks again, "But how do you live this way?" Anuruddha answers, "In this case, sir, whoever returns first from alms round prepares the seat and puts out the drinking water and the rubbish bin. If there's anything left over, whoever returns last eats it if they like; otherwise, they throw it out where there is little that grows, or drop it into water that has no living creatures. Then they put away these seats, drinking water, and rubbish bin, and sweep the refectory. If someone sees that the pot of water for dishwashing, drinking, or the toilet is empty, they set it up. If he can't do it, he summons another with a wave of the hand, and they set it up by lifting it with their hands, but we don't break into speech for that reason. And every five days we sit together for the whole night and discuss the teachings. That is how we live diligently, keen, and resolute." And the Buddha says, "Good, good, Anuruddha and friends."

Reflections

I'm going to wrap it up, and tomorrow night I'll continue. The Buddha goes on, so you can listen to the talk if you're interested, but the Buddha goes on and talks about the corruptions as they show up in meditation. He only does that because he sees that they are living in accordance with the Dhamma. The way we practice with each other in community affects our meditation practice.

I'll end with a quote by James Baldwin: "The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love, whether we call it friendship or family or romance, is the work of mirroring and manifesting each other's light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed, loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another."

May the benefit of our practice be for the benefit of all. Thank you for your kind attention.