Getting Money in Perspective
As registrar in an English hospital, Virabhadra earns far more than he did as doctor and project supervisor on the Karuna Trust's Poona Project But does this mean he’s lost his spiritual edge?
In the Buddha’s day, the hikkhu or bhikkhuni followers wandered the villages seeking their daily meal by begging alms from the local people, many of whom were ‘lay’ followers. As the monastic Sangha developed, the pattern changed from the daily alms-round to royal patronage of monastic communities. Thus, during the era of the great Buddhist monarchs, the Sangha flourished. In later centuries, patronage was eroded in the face of the Brahminical revival; monastic communities, and thus the very existence of the Dharma in India, were seriously weakened even before the great Muslim invasions.
This lesson has not escaped the attention of modern Buddhists. In India, Dr Ambedkar warned new Buddhists that the committed should remain in contact with the common people, rather than becoming isolated in monastic centres and dependent on patronage. He envisaged a new kind of Buddhist worker, one who would function within society and help to effect a transformation of society.
Within Trailokya Bauddha Mahasangha (as the FWBO is known in India) an attempt is being made to develop an economic structure for the Indian Buddhist movement. Those who come to work full-time for the Movement join a wage structure which attempts to reflect real needs rather than rank or position. This poses practical problems in a society where there are many pressures and responsibilities associated with the family. One may decide to live simply for oneself, but one’s wife, or cousin, or children, may be less enthusiastic! However, those who have joined make considerable efforts to put the principles into practice, while those working outside the Movement are included in a scheme under which they contribute a proportion of their wages to fund Dharma activities such as lectures, publications, and retreats.
For a single person with no dependents the choices are less complex. During my time in India I was in the happy position of being able to join in such a structure while trying to live on a basis of ‘real needs’. This did not mean a colourless existence on the breadline, but involved an effort to consider personal expenditure in terms of the overall needs of the Movement, and a conscious avoidance of consumerism. Perhaps the most important aspect was not so much what I did or spent, but rather that I managed to introduce awareness into an area which was previously taken for granted.
Since returning to the UK I have become involved in a lot more personal earning and spending than was the case in India. Acquiring a mortgage, credit cards, and a car throws up new questions. Where is the spiritual commitment in such a lifestyle?
Materialism and the urge to consume are antithetical to spiritual life. But there is nothing inherently spiritual in poverty either. The issue cannot simply be one of wealth or poverty; rather it has to do with one’s attitude towards money as a ‘resource’. Unless a spirit of dana, or generosity, pervades one’s personal economic life, a large proportion of one’s effort, and therefore of one’s resources, will be diverted.
The distinction between ‘lay’ and ‘full time’ Buddhists cannot therefore be made according to material criteria alone. What really matters is the extent of one’s personal spiritual practice, and of one’s work for the benefit of others.
A person’s economic choices will no doubt reflect his or her state of mind, and his or her underlying attitude to material wealth. A committed Buddhist will surely recognize that money is required to finance the Buddhist movement. Indian history suggests that the Western Buddhist movement would be foolish to place its reliance on such modern forms of patronage as government grants. This ‘outside’ finance may be useful, even indispensable for certain specific projects, but spiritual independence necessarily implies material independence. This must be the objective. Public centres, communities, and retreat centres all require participants prepared to help finance their activities.
Wealth, or even material comfort, presents pitfalls. There is a gravitational pull towards consumerism, and it is not difficult to rationalize such a tendency in terms of personal ‘needs’ As an antidote to this we need frequently to be reminded of the state of the world, to remember the constructive projects that could benefit people in the West that are being held back by lack of finance, and the more extreme position of Dharma brothers and sisters in the developing world for whom adequate food, clothing, and housing remain an impossible luxury.