Label me a sinner, insensible or harsh as you wish. I’ve been thinking recently that making merit at most urban temples is quite an absurdity, especially in this hideous, blackhole moment of Buddhist history.
Don’t get me wrong. I was born and raised according to Buddhist tradition. Even though I haven’t had a chance to study and understand the religion well, going to the temple to make merit on special occasions, including birthdays, anniversaries and holy festivals, has long been a crucial routine in my family. Over the past four decades there has been more than 200 occasions of such, yet every time I’ve always strictly followed customs and entered the temple with utmost respect — physically and spiritually — without compromise.
It’s known among Thais that there are quite a few rules temple-goers should abide by. They include dressing up properly (e.g without revealing much skin), behaving respectfully (meaning you speak only with a positive attitude and in a discreet manner) and approach monks with a high veneration for their integrity.
However, in recent years I’ve seen Buddhists, especially the younger generation, are less strict and less respectful to the temple and monks. They arrive at the temple in spaghetti-strap tops and shorts, unintentionally exposing their cleavage and, sometimes, plumber’s cracks. Most even forget to switch their phones to silent mode during religious services.
Yet, such inappropriate conduct is somehow bearable, compared to what is witnessed in modern-day monkhood.
As most of us might have seen in the news, a number of Buddhist monks today are living an extravagant life. To the agitation of faithful Buddhists, these men in saffron possess lots of lavish goods, travel on private jets, wear brandname luxury goods, collect cars (from Toyotas to Rolls-Royces and even Bentleys), have sex, do drugs and are cruel to animals.
My friends’ reasoning is that monks are ordinary people. No, they are not. They’re ordained individuals who are supposed to make do with alms given to them and lead a life of strict self-discipline and restraint. They are supposed to maintain their modesty, selflessness and practice of mendicancy, and not be tempted by the offerings of worshippers.
I’ve seen monks on several occasions wandering night markets and buying you-know-what DVDs, flocking to computer fairs to buy the latest gadgets and even riding banana boats! Meanwhile, many temples relentlessly come up with multi-million-baht construction projects as if to turn the premises into a religious theme park.
All this makes it even harder for people like me to put our faith wholeheartedly in the religion.
Whenever I go to the temple and see huge amounts of goods — groceries, medicines and household equipment — offered by worshippers I always wonder where the leftovers (it seems impossible for the monks to be able to consume such vast amounts) end up. Are the goods given to poor folks in the community or sold to merchants, if rumours are to be believed?
I’ve often said that if anyone is down on their luck, the place to seek material and spiritual support is a charitable, wide-open and “well-stocked’’ Buddhist temple, of which I am guilty of donating to.
However, the straw that broke the camel’s back happened a few days ago at a temple, which my family often frequents.
We were there for a sangkhathan (delivering contributions to Buddhist monks). In the service foyer was a senior monk sitting on raised platform to conduct the function in front of five worshippers, including myself.
As usual, before the service began I turned off my phone, following a sign on the wall saying “Please do not use mobile phone during the ceremony”.
The service started off calmly with harmonious chanting. However, while I had my eyes closed and was concentrating on the chanting and praying, I could hear someone talking gleefully on the phone. The 50-second-long tete-a-tete stopped as soon as the chanting finished, and the monk, with a big grin, put down his smartphone.
Of course, there are many monks who are truly venerable and I still strongly believe in Lord Buddha’s dhamma teachings. But to put my faith in an urban monastery and modern-day monkhood is a different story.
Vanniya Sriangura is a senior writer for the Life section of the Bangkok Post.