Novice Ordination

NOTE:

This unformatted text file is a rendering of the original ‘MSWord’ document and some parts (esp. the Pali formula) have been omitted for clarity and simplicity. The intention here is to offer insight into the process of ordination for those who may be making preliminary inquiries. Having said that it should be noted that this is not a ‘light’ or superficial sketch and some aspects may seem more than a little daunting to the new-comer. Traditional structures provide a well-tested and trustworthy framework for living the monastic life and the following will give you some idea of the formal training. A great deal is actually learned on a day-to-day basis with ordinary situations providing a living context for the ground of the more formal training rules.

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PREFACE TO NEW EDITION

This brief text is a product of Ajahn Sucitto’s Vassa retreat over twenty years ago. Knowing of the recent ordination of several anagarikas Birken, in October 2001 the itinerant Ajahn Viradhammo thought to bring a copy of An Anagarika’s Guide for his visit to our new property in Canada’s Western wilderness. After settling into the subsequent Winter retreat Ajahn Sona began to make daily use of this decidedly well-aged photocopy in his training talks. The idea to produce a more presentable edition issued quite naturally from these inspiring sessions. Aside from its enlarged Pali pronunciation guide (taken from Amaravati’s chanting book) only minor changes have been made to Ajahn Sucitto’s eloquent, often humorous original. The very fact that such a text continues to be required in this world has prompted considerable gratitude in those involved with the happy task of (re)producing it.

Anagarika Philo

Birken Forest Buddhist Monastery

Kamloops, British Colombia

ENTRANCE

The cessation of suffering is a continual practice, not a spectacular event. When one sees that all events in consciousness are changing without a discernible fixed reality, something beyond the limits of a meditation course becomes necessary.

One cannot take any world view to be other than an arbitrary reality, a matter of convention; so the wise man observes conventions by living within them with awareness. He sees the mind’s tendency to form patterns, meanings, and dogmas and cling to them as real; knowing this he is freed from the desire to attach and desire to rebel – he learns to use conventions skillfully. The practice is in living harmoniously in a discordant world, and for this one has to step out of the meditation hall.

The Buddha exhorted those with little dust in their eyes to go from home to homelessness for the deliverance from dukkha. Here and now we are still able to do that, in the monastic tradition he founded. It may be a difficult tradition with strange rules for those who wish to examine life on a philosophical basis, but for those who only want to give up their attachment to self, there is no problem. There is nothing in the homeless life that hinders the development of wisdom, truth and virtue. Though to our Western conditioning many of the aspects of practice seem illogical, we practise for the liberation from rationality itself. How far has the obsession with reasons and answers brought us in terms of peace?

This is an instruction manual for those who only want to pull out the arrow of suffering. So it is very limited. There is no theory or speculation. It deals only with practice. It concentrates on that which appears in consciousness; nothing is said about that which is beyond the world of form and change and suffering. This book makes no attempt to instruct or control that which you really are.

Ajahn Sucitto

Chithurst Forest Sanctuary

Rains 1979

BOWING

Having entered the monastery, you bow. First one bows three times to the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha, then, three times to the senior monk. Bowing is that attitude of respect that characterises the monastic life; it is a voluntary submission of the self to that which is beyond the self; it is the symbol of spiritual aspiration.

If you cannot learn to bow willingly in body, speech and mind, you cannot open to the immortal and let go of the encrusted drives and aversions that cause suffering and that in ignorance we call our own. We bow physically many times daily – to the Triple Gem on entering or leaving the shrine room, to the senior monk on entering or leaving his presence, and as a regular part of the morning and evening services. Bhikkhus bow to each other according to seniority, and on entering or leaving a room, before lying down at night, and on first getting up in the morning. It is a practice that a meditator develops a taste for – sometimes it seems to be the only meaningful attitude to have towards life.

Kneel so that you are squatting on the heels, knees and toes on the floor, back straight. Press the palms of the hands together with the fingers pointing upwards and touching the slightly bowed forehead. Then bring the hands down in front of the body, separating the palms at waist level. The palms turn and face down and then continue down and forward touching the floor beyond the knees. The torso follows this action, so that the movement ends with the forehead touching the floor on the small space between the palms. The palms are directly in front of the knees at arm’s length, with the forearms also resting on the floor. That is one bow. Come up, bringing the hands together to the forehead and repeat the process for the second and third times. As a final fillip, as you come up for the third time you can bend the back so that the forehead comes forward to meet the ascending hands. This really drives the point home – bow, bow, bow.

At other times when mud, traffic or crowds would make bowing inappropriate, you can acknowledge the senior monk by simply raising the hands, palms together as before and slightly bowing the head to meet them. On formal occasions, it is respectful to put the palms together in this manner when speaking to a monk. It is a application of mindfulness to guard against speech that is ill-considered, flippant or abusive.

In a similar respectful way, give the bhikkhus plenty of room – don’t crowd in on them. Don’t stand looming over them if they are sitting – either keep a “respectful distance” or come down to their level. If you have to cross in front of a bhikkhu who is sitting, it creates the right impression if you duck slightly, especially if he is talking or addressing someone. It’s very simply done, but it has an effect in negating whatever impression the abrupt appearance of an anagarika in full flight might create in the middle of a Dhamma talk.

Living in an aware community, you will come to realise how much the way we act has its effects and repercussions on us all. Polite, respectful behaviour makes for a sensitive open community, and the conventions of bodily posture and manner of speech are the basis of this behaviour. These principles may seem quaint or fussy at first, but they are useful tools to replace all that is ungracious or gross in our worldly conditioning.

CODE

What ordination as a bhikkhu implies is bowing to the Vinaya, the detailed code of rules, training precepts and manners that shape the way in which a bhikkhu acts and speaks. This is a guide to protect the individual and the community as a whole from the results of careless action and serves as a check on blind impulse, a cause for reflection on action and motivation.

Similarly anagarikas have a code of training rules; it is a less detailed one comprising the eight precepts and the principles of deportment. Anagarikas should learn how to ask for the precepts and how to practise them. The candidate for ordination as an anagarika should approach the Acariya (the abbot or “teacher”) with shaven head, dressed in white. He kneels, bows three times, and with palms pressed together in the traditional manner, recites the following:

[Omitted – Pali does not render well in .txt]

Reflect on this, on what it means to have made the decision that the worldly life is a mass of trouble and you have gone to the Triple Gem as a refuge, for the deliverance from suffering. The anagarika no longer has a place in the world, he is “homeless” and has chosen to abide in the spirit, in the qualities of wisdom, truth and virtue. The eight precepts, the training rules, the routine, the submission of the individual will to the authority of the community are all troublesome to the worldly attitudes that we have been trained in, but are completely conducive to a calm and happy spiritual life. So if you find you are struggling against the discipline, reflect that this is a teaching, showing you what you are most attached to in the mortal condition. To let go is to discover great freedom. Freedom comes from not indulging in that which suffers, sickens and dies – it is the practice of mindfulness.

CONDUCT

Once ordained, you begin to make living into a practice rather than a series of accidents. It is the difference between learning to play an instrument and haphazardly plucking a few strings. Just to acquire skill in speaking graciously, in relating to people, in seeing what help one can offer; to learn to sit, walk and stand in a composed and neat way; to realise how little one needs, and the benefits of a simple orderly life – these are all great blessings in anyone’s life. It can be said that the training of mindfulness is really a way of co-existing peacefully with the moral condition, of learning to use the conventions of body and mind wisely rather than being used by them.

Begin to practice as always with yourself. To have gone from home is to have left behind a lot of unnecessary possessions, so reflect on what you need to live in the Triple Refuge for the practice of deliverance. Every day we train ourselves to contemplate the four requisites that the Buddha deemed as necessary supports for the spiritual life – clothing, food, shelter and medicine. Three of the eight precepts deal specifically with cutting out any unnecessary indulgence in these requisites; the Vinaya for a bhikkhu goes into meticulous, even aggravating detail over the means of acquiring, using and maintaining these requisites with mindfulness. One of the most serious offences against the Vinaya is to build a hut larger than the specified size!

In our practice, learn to eat the one meal out of the bowl gratefully and in a composed manner. In the period between the serving of the meal and the actual eating – one begins eating in line, according to seniority – you have an excellent opportunity to contemplate hunger, excitement and greed. Use this time wisely to see through these impermanent conditions, rather than to indulge in desires and aversions, or complaints over the quantity or quality of what is offered. Contemplate the appearance of the food and reflect that it is given. Reflect also on what happens to even the most appetising food after it enters the body. This is so that when you do eat it is with wisdom, cutting through the habitual gratification of the senses that attaches us to desire.

There are certain observances that help to maintain mindfulness throughout the meal:

• not to gobble or cram the mouth with food
• to eat quietly without chomping or slurping
• to refrain from conversation whilst eating
• not to lick the fingers
• to look at your own bowl rather than at someone else’s
• not to flick or throw food around (such as passing an apple)
• not to scrape the bowl noisily with the spoon, as when trying to get the very last rice grain.

Eating being the main impulse in our mortal lives, and in the monastic life one of the few situations where one can indulge the senses, meal times can be a traumatic plunge into heedlessness, envy, guilt and indigestion. These observances and reflections are good tools to work with. With practice, one can learn how much the body needs, and while practising one sees how much the mind wants.

After the meal, wipe out your bowl and put any leftovers in the waste-pile or pot. Don’t throw leftovers casually over the grass or under a hedge. Look after your bowl and spoon, clean and dry them properly and leave them where they’re not in danger of falling or being knocked.

As for clothing, for most purposes white trousers and shirts (and in cool weather, white sweaters) should be worn. The style is dependent on the tastes of the day – it should be modest, simple and respectable to the average householder.

angsa has the added virtue of requiring a bit of fussing from time to time, and so begins to prepare you for the initially awkward business of wearing monastic robes. Needless to say, it is important to keep the angsa clean and well cared for.

For work around the monastery some durable, dark-coloured and seasonally appropriate clothing is also needed. Even during periods of strenuous physical labour, though, it is important to be mindful of “where” you are. Keep a neat pair of sandals along with your work boots, so that any time you are required to go into town or receive guests in the monastery your appearance is a reflection of your own practice and that of the Dhamma community.

For this reason, as well as for your own benefit, make an effort to behave in a gentle and composed manner. Mindfulness and peaceful life will naturally bring this about, but you may need to reflect on the following observances:

? to refrain from shouting. It is more mindful to find someone before attempting to speak to him or her, especially in a house or where others are speaking, and it causes you to reflect on the impulses behind speech.

? not to go “laughing loudly.” Bellowing and guffawing may just be an outflowing of joyful exuberance in your own eyes but the kind of energy that it unleashes can lead to foolish behaviour in yourself and others.

? to be modestly clad, covering the chest and not going around in underwear, especially if women are present.

These observances are especially for public places, but remember that at any time the abbot may be receiving highly impressionable visitors.

Care of your living space is important. How does your mind feel in a messy room with dirty clothes strewn over the floor? Or even a clean room with a lot of gadgets and trinkets that stimulate the mind, or possessions that involve maintenance and evoke memories? Make this simple observation a part of your practice, and see if a simple neat room can be conducive to emptying the mind and bringing calm and composure.

Learning to look after things is a training in non-discriminating attention. It helps develop patience and an attitude of caring that counteracts our tendency to treat all things, other people and finally ourselves as functional objects. The view of seeing things only as a means to an end is very limited. “Getting things done” is a common impatient and unreceptive formation of the mind that goes right against the practice of looking at the here and now that is the essence of the Dhamma. Reflect that in the material world nothing ever is completed or perfect, it is all anicca and dukkha: and in the spiritual world the perfection is in the doing of the moment, not in the result.

DEPENDENCE

The community of the Sangha is the refuge for your needs. Apart from the four requisites, the community can consciously or not, act as a source of strength and comfort when you are struggling or depressed. Similarly the way that you act, and your receptivity to other people, strengthens the community as a whole. It may become clear just how much to practise for the welfare of all beings is to practise for yourself, and how to practise for yourself is to practise for the welfare of all beings.

So an important aspect of the life of the Sangha is the relationship between anagarikas, samaneras and bhikkhus, in learning to care for and respect each other within the hierarchical convention. This is only a convention but it is as good as any other, and more clear-cut and justified than most. The bhikkhus’ practice is to make themselves worthy examples and sources of inspiration and advice to their juniors, and the anagarika’s practice is to make himself receptive and attentive to the bhikkhus’ needs.

This is formalised in the request for dependence, which all members of the community make to the abbot or Acariya as our teacher and spiritual guide. This is done when joining the community, before the Rains, or if the Acariya has returned from a long trip away.

After bowing, squat on the heels and recite the following thrice:

[Omitted – Pali does not render well in .txt]

(From this day onwards, the Thera’s burden will be mine. I shall be the burden of the Thera.)

Conclude with three bows.

As is implicit in the above, one’s relationship to an Acariya (Thai: Ajahn) goes a little further than is conveyed by the English, “teacher.” This is because the relationship, and the way that the teacher acts, is as much a part of the teaching as his sermons. He can teach by listening to you, by his example of attention to all beings, patience and joy. He can teach you by being angry or ignoring you. His practice shows you your reflection by means of the relationship of dependence.

The anagarika’s practice is to look after the Ajahn with care and respect. Mostly he is unlikely to make any demands or requests – it is up to you to be aware. As for example in seeing that he never left alone with a woman, so that there could never be any ground for suspicion about his conduct. Clean his bowl and learn how to fold his robes; learn to offer him beverages and seven-day allowances asking thus: “May I offer you some coffee, Bhante?” rather than “Do you want a cup of coffee?” This is more polite and it emphases the relationship and the benefit of being able to serve him. Don’t tread on his seat in the shrine room or walk in front of him or otherwise put yourself physically higher than he is. Learn to be obedient and accept his admonishment without a rejoinder, no matter what your opinion may be.

This is the way to use dependence as a means of meditation and source of insight. It connects you to a deep well-spring of care and service that is not affected by the highly impermanent nature of opinions, likes and dislikes. Like many aspects of the lifestyle it encourages patient attention and awareness of, rather than indulgence in, one’s reactions.

FOOD & DRINK

Should the daily alms-round prove an inadequate means of support, the bhikkhu can rely upon stewards for food, medicines, etc. The anagarika fulfils this function, especially in this Sangha’s contemporary environment, where the laity find it more convenient to make occasional bulk offerings than to rise at dawn, prepare food and await the appearance of alms-mendicants. So one of the principal duties of an anagarika is to cook raw food that has been given or to purchase food when necessary for the nourishment of the community and the fulfillment of the spiritual covenant between Sangha and laity.

This is a mendicant community. The bhikkhu practises acceptance of what is given without debate, complaint or demand. Thus he cuts through likes and dislikes and lives in faithful dependence. So an anagarika should reflect on this. Wisely, he realises that it is not proper to involve a bhikkhu in debate over tastes, quantities etc., however well-meaning, as this may tempt the bhikkhu and sorely try his practice of non-discrimination. Skillfully he should accept the responsibility for sustaining the body that stands, eyes downcast, bowl open before his steaming pots, not issuing such remarks as “You want some ketchup?”

Most food is acceptable according to Vinaya; it is the act of giving that makes it so, linking spirit and mortality in this act of dana. So the way that the food is given is really the key rather than the nature of the food. A bhikkhu cannot put anything into his digestive system that has not been properly offered, other than water. Even toothpaste and aspirins and snuff should be properly offered by hand. This means that the lay person or anagarika should come within a forearm’s distance of the monk’s body and place the offering into his hands, or into his alms bowl or cup. When the offering has been accepted, a short bow, raising the pressed palms to the bowed forehead is an appropriate mark of respect to the Sangha and the act of dana.

An anagarika should not offer food to bhikkhus after noon or before dawn, as it is an offence for a bhikkhu to handle food outside of these limits. So he should also make sure that bhikkhus don’t come into contact with food in bags left carelessly lying around, or in unmarked parcels or care packages that fond mothers have sent. In British Columbia noon is established as 12 o’clock Pacific Standard Time or 1 p.m. Daylight Savings Time, while dawn is rather vaguer and is technically defined as the time when there is enough light in the sky to see the lines in the hand at arm’s length.

An anagarika should also refrain from offering flesh from any animal that bas been especially killed for monks, as well as human flesh, or the flesh of elephants, horses, dogs, snakes, lions, tigers, leopards and hyenas. Raw meat is also prohibited. Kammically, vegetarianism is a lot simpler but even that has its provisos. To deprive a plant of life is an offence for a bhikkhu, so fruit, seeds, sprouting peas, alfalfa sprouts, etc., that could grow into plants if left uneaten must be “made allowable” by rendering them incapable of growth.

This is how: Place the fruit so that they are all touching and then cut or skewer one of the fruit and at the same time say Kappiyam Bhante (it is allowable, Venerable Sir). The bhikkhu will say Kappiyam Karohi (make it allowable). A sharp knife or fork should be used in preference to the less elegant fingernail. Spoiling by flame is also acceptable.

Incidentally, the same holds true for flowers in that a bhikkhu may not cut flowers, damage plants, scrape moss off of stones or lichen off of walls. Nor may he even ask that it be done. He may hint, such as “The shrine room would look nicer with flowers in it, wouldn’t it?” or “Could you please ‘Kappy’ those nettles?” Of course the sharp-eyed anagarika has no need for such hints.

That which a bhikkhu can consume between dawn and noon, here called “food,” does not exactly correspond to the Western idea of food. In Pali it is simply termed “yavakalika” (before noon). However, there are three other categories of things that it is allowable for a bhikkhu to consume after noon if they are offered.

“Yamakalika” is fruit juice, strained to remove any flesh, from fruit no bigger than a fist. Pineapple juice and coconut milk are therefore not allowable, but other juices can be kept by a bhikkhu until the dawn after the day on which it was offered.

“Satthakalika” is a category of allowances that a bhikkhu can keep and consume until the seventh dawn after the day that it was offered. This includes sugar, honey, butter, vegetable oils and margarine, treacle, molasses, sweets (that don’t contain fruit or nuts etc.) non-dairy creamer and plain, dark chocolate.

Yavajivaka are lifetime allowances. Once offered, a bhikkhu can use until his dying day tea, coffee, cocoa, salt, pepper, herbs, spices, vitamin pills and oral medicines. This category also includes toothpaste but does not include grain coffee, malted milk drinks or anything that has ingredients from one of the other categories. Even placing a spoon in a bowl of sugar after it has been used to stir a milk-drink makes that sugar “yavakalika”, as milk from the spoon has gone into the sugar. In such a case, the sugar should not used after noon.

These regulations induce a very careful attitude. Apart from not taking this requisite for granted, the precision of the ritual means that one tends to use food and drink in moderation and with clear awareness.

Remember that even if something has been offered, if it is touched by a lay parson, anagarika or samanera, it must be re-offered to a bhikkhu before he can use it. This goes further than contact with the “food” itself, and includes contact with the vessel that the food or drink is in, and even the tray on which it may have been offered. Maybe you remove the lid of a teapot to check the colour of the brew; perhaps you place your cup on the tray that his chocolate is on; or you stir his soluble aspirin with a spoon – all this renders them unallowable. If a spoon has been used to stir drinks by lay people etc., it must be offered to the bhikkhu before he can use it. It is best to make everything ready first, to offer it to the bhikkhus in order of seniority, and then withdraw to a respectful distance. In practice the straightforwardness of this is what these complexities all aim towards.

BOWLS, ROBES & RUPAS

After eating it is customary to wash out the Ajahan’s or senior monk’s bowl. There is a correct way to do this – forget any ideas you might have that an alms-bowl is just something to eat out of and can be handled like a cooking pot or salad dish. More than anything else it is a symbol of the bhikkhu life; it is a shrine to the principle of mendicancy. Formerly alms-bowls were made of brittle clay or, when available, iron that was liable to rust and corrode, and the observances on care of the bowl (which we adhere to as a training in mindfulness) were made with that in mind. Take care never to knock the bowl, or carry it in such a way that it might get bumped (such as carelessly slung over your back when you go through a door). Never overload yourself when carrying a bowl – better to make several journeys than to balance a couple of bowls in one hand, spittoons in the other and kettles under the arm. Most properly one carries the bowl with the strap around the neck, holding the bowl by the rim with one hand that is also gripping the lid, while the other can be used to open doors. Never put the bowl down on a hard surface – place it on its stand or invert it on a towel; in either case it should be more than a forearm’s distance from a door or an edge (of a shelf or a table) that it might fall off.

The bowl should first be emptied of any waste food. Use the hand to remove the food particles ( it is more efficient than a spoon and there is no risk of scratching the bowl. (For this reason one does not carry knives or metal spoons inside the bowl.) Rinse the bowl with water and dispose of the slops by emptying them into a pail or onto a designated area. Repeat the washing using hot water if available and a little soap or mild detergent. Harsh industrial cleaners, scouring powder or cleaners containing ammonia or a caustic ingredient should not be used as they may taint the bowl and poison its owner.

Dry the bowl very thoroughly; ideally this should be done whilst kneeling to minimise the damage if the bowl should slip out of the hands. The drying can be completed by allowing the bowl to stand in the sun for a few minutes or, as is more likely in cooler climates, near to a stove. Then you can replace the bowl cover, securing it with a series of overhand knots, and, not forgetting the spoon, take it back to the owner’s room or kuti.

Here it should be placed in such a way that it is not going to get banged by a door, or kicked, and the strap should be folded on top of the bowl so that it doesn’t trail down where it might hook somebody’s foot. The lid should be positioned so that there is a free circulation of air passing through, leaving the bowl sweet and clean.

Bhikkhus generally look after their own robes, but should you be asked to wash them, treat them with a similar care and respect. Use a soap powder rather than a detergent and a warm rather than hot wash – the dye is probably not colour-fast. Remember that it is a part of the bhikkhu’s discipline to be with his triple robes at dawn; so it is considerate to have them ready by that time, or to inform him if they are not, so that he can take steps to avoid committing an offence.

If you are asked to assist in folding one of the outer robes, hold it high so that it doesn’t drag on the ground, and with the loops and tags on the upper surface of the robe, fold it in half three times. For a sanghati, fold one short side towards the other short side so that they meet with the border of one side overlapping. Fold the overlap over, and then fold the robe in half, and half again. The purpose of the overlap is to avoid a central crease, which over a period of time would weaken the cloth. The overlap ensures a random creasing on either side of the centre.

With the robe folded in this way, and keeping it pulled tight, turn one fold of the cloth back and over the other. Then open from the under side so that one is holding the cloth as two identical panels, one of which one then folds over the other. Complete the job by folding the resulting strip in half lengthways.

This attitude of looking after things may seem odd in a community that knows impermanence and tends towards not possessing things, but actually it is because of these principles of mendicancy that we encourage careful maintenance of our requisites and equipment. It is a training not only in mindfulness of action, but in not taking things for granted. It is very useful for Westerners who are accustomed to convenience and plenty to be faced with inconvenience and scarcity. Rather than fostering a possessive attitude, it makes one more aware of what one is responsible for, of what one will have to wash, patch, and repair. Impermanence is brought home by having little – one can mindfully watch the mutation of a sweater from fluffy white to threadbare grey, for example. To look after one’s own requisites as well as those of others is not denying impermanence, but learning to use impermanent conditions skillfully.

In the Sangha a lot of the property is communal and kept in store. If there is anything you need, such as blankets, clothes, medicines, toiletries, it is proper to ask a bhikkhu, preferably the bhikkhu who supervises communal property. This way there is an account of what we have and what people need. If you are borrowing tools or blankets or whatever, then it is simple mindfulness to return them in good condition, or if they are damaged to inform the stores bhikkhu. It’s surprising how easy it is to not return things, so make it a simple practice to do so, especially in the case of tools or special equipment that you have borrowed for a specific task. Return these at the end of the working day, whether the job is finished or not. It’s all practice. Can you remember to open and close doors quietly, rather than slamming them or leaving them ajar “just for a moment”?

The images of the Buddha in the shrine room are a special kind of “property” to be treated with respect. Never point your feet towards them – this is outrageous to many Asian people. Some even consider it offensive to sit with the back facing the Buddha statue (or Buddha rupa) as it is very real manifestation of their spiritual ideals. If you have to clean them or otherwise move them, bear this in mind. Don’t grasp them by the neck or head, or brush them with a mop or kitchen broom; instead lift them carefully, one at a time, with both hands under the base, set them down on a clear space on the floor and wash them carefully, polishing with a soft cloth.

Reflect on this in your attitude towards monks, whom many see similarly as examples of all that they consider to be most sacred in life. Although you are unlikely to be called polish a bhikkhu, remember that in traditional Buddhist countries it is considered a mark of disrespect to point your feet at a monk, or to touch his head. There is even a particular respectful posture to adopt when listening to a desana ( or sitting in the presence of a bhikkhu on formal occasions, so that the feet are well covered. You adopt a normal squatting posture on the knees, sitting on the heels, then shift the legs so that the foot rests against the inside of the opposite thigh, while the other foot and shin slide out slightly so that the buttocks are resting on the floor. This posture can come as a welcome relief from the lotus posture, and is the posture normally used for chanting parittas and blessings.

CHANTING

In the morning and evening services we practise mindfulness of breathing, and chanting. The two are complementary and a meaningful image of the monastic life. To watch the breath is to become calm and centered; to chant is to draw energy from the centre where we all meet and offer it in homage to the principles of wisdom, truth and virtue. It is also literally a way of harmonising with a community – in chanting it is important to attune yourself to the pitch and rhythm of the senior monk, rather than blast out your own subterranean growl, however devout it may be.

You should breathe with the stomach, using the stomach muscles to control the flow of air, so that the sound resonates in the chest. If it resonates in the stomach it may be too low pitched, in throat or forehead almost certainly too high. Concentrate on the vowels, keeping them long and pure, and be aware of the tendency of the voice to drop after a period of time. Rhythm, harmony and pitch count for more than precise pronunciation, and although a lot can be gleaned by reflecting on the meaning of the chants, a large part of their value is in the effect that turning energy outwards in a composed and harmonious form has on the body and mind.

THE BRAHMAN

Apart from being cooks, gardeners chaperones and handymen, anagarikas play a vital part in relations with the lay folk, advising them on matters of monastic form and the discipline that separates the bhikkhus from the laity. For example, it may be necessary to inform Western women not to come into physical contact with the monks, nor sit in a room with a bhikkhu without another man being present – quite often it is up to the anagarika to fulfill that function. Also there may be times when, according to the nature of the person it is more in keeping not to press matters of etiquette – such as belabouring old ladies for sitting on chairs while the Ajahn is sitting on the floor, or curtly telling a local dignitary not to sit with his feet pointed towards a Buddha rupa.

But it is up to the anagarikas to arrange danas, to suggest offerings that lay people can make to the Sangha, as it is not the mendicant’s practice to specify or be choosy about what, or even whether, things are offered. It is even an offence for a bhikkhu to accept an invitation to dine if the layman specifies the kind of food that he will give.

Other than this, anagarikas have a kind of religious function that corresponds to that of the brahman priests of the Buddha’s India. They are the officiants, the keepers of the observances and the rituals. So, after learning the morning and evening chanting and the blessings and protective verses (parittas), they can instruct the lay people to ask for the five precepts, how to ask for a sermon, and how to request monks to chant parittas.

GOING OUT

To leave the monastery, whether it be for a walk, an errand or a long journey, it is proper to request permission from the abbot or a senior monk. This is so that you know and are certain about why and where you are going – it makes it more of a definite decision. Also it is out of consideration for the community as a whole, so that somebody else can make provision for anything you have to do.

But there is something deeper, as well. In becoming part of a community, you are using the form and the routine and a lifestyle to relate to something beyond the personal condition. As individuals we are separate and in conflict, but from the perspective of Dhamma we are all one. So we are no longer inclined to function as separate unrelated beings. We practise sharing, eating together, meditating and chanting together, acting for the welfare of each other and all beings. The Sangha of bhikkhus regularly recite the Patimokkha and confess the most minor offences to each other, ask each other for advice, admonishments and robes to wear from the communal supplies. It is a way of seeing oneself as part of a tradition that contains many impeccable and wise beings.

Our practice is to see the vipaka of our individual lives from the perspective of an enlightened tradition that continually nourishes us and provides us with a source of reflection. So all our actions are in a way public actions, we relate them to the Sangha of the present, the future and the past, and the Sangha that is the quality of virtue. It becomes very natural to inform the Sangha of the comings and goings of one’s life.

For the period of the Rains Retreat (vassa) we determine to remain within the monastery every night, certain conditions such as Sangha duties excepting. Accordingly, this is the most intimate time of the monastic year, when the feeling for the community is most developed. Traditionally one avows the Rains in order of seniority.