13. The Routines of the Sangha

By Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī

June 28, 1984

The duties in the religion are many, not few. When a monk is ordained, most people misunderstand. For example, worldly people criticize the religion as lazy: "Those who just eat and then sleep — let them go ordain in the religion," they say. That is their criticism. Those who see no necessity in Buddhism, after ordination, mostly think they don't have to do anything at all — just sit, lie down, and stay idle. Meditation is the only practice; no need for other duties. But if you neglect other duties, you are not following this religion — that becomes Mahayana, as people abroad often say. The hermits and various sects have no duties like those in Buddhism.

In Buddhism, there are fourteen duties. I will tell you about some specific ones.

Ācariyavatta: the duties towards one's teacher — drawing water for use and for drinking, taking on all the teacher's responsibilities, in line with the phrase: "From this day forward, let the elder be my responsibility, and I will be the elder's responsibility." That is, from now on, I take on your burden, and you take on the burden of teaching and training me. For a newly ordained monk, this is the case — saying those words. That is ācariyavatta.

Upajjhāyavatta is similar to ācariyavatta. The teacher must reciprocate in caring for the student — advising, admonishing, teaching as if he were his own child, with kindness, compassion, and goodwill. That is, the preceptor and student, or teacher and student, treat each other like a child treating a parent, and a parent treating a child. That is one aspect.

Āvāsikavatta: duties to the dwelling. When guests arrive, visiting monks, you must welcome them. Don't be silent, thinking, "It's not my job. I'm not the abbot of the monastery. Let it be." The Buddha's teaching on this, for those who have ordained, says: Yo pana bhikkhu — every monk, not novices, the teaching doesn't mention novices — being a monk, you must act accordingly. Āvāsikavatta: receiving and welcoming whoever comes — with seating mats, water for use and drinking, and lodgings.

Āgantukavatta: duties of a visitor — one who goes to a monastery and stays there, entering that monastery. Āvāsikavatta is the duties of the host monastery — receiving and welcoming as mentioned.

Bhattaggavatta: duties in the dining hall. You must lay out mats and seats for eating if it's a group. If they don't cooperate, what will happen? Think about it. Some monks do it, some don't, thinking "It's not my job, I won't do it." That one thinks that way, this one thinks this way, differing opinions, so no one does anything. "This monastery isn't mine" — everyone says it's not theirs. What will happen then? If we act like that — after eating, each goes their own way, no cleaning, no maintaining — spittoons, water kettles, etc., not dusting or sweeping — what will become of it? For those newly ordained who don't yet understand this practice: if we practice well, we get good results — clean, orderly, pleasant to stay in. The word "pleasant to stay in" — how can it be pleasant without practice? We must practice and train, then it gradually becomes clean. If many people come and none practice, will it work? Every single monk must practice — all of them. The dining hall, the water for use — it's truly excellent when we practice. Practice from the beginning.

This monastery, when I first came to stay, I had to go down to the Mekong River to draw water. Everything was convenient and comfortable only because later we made it so. Now we have tap water and drinking water — very comfortable. When I first came, I had to go down to draw water from the Mekong for use. I labored to bring it for convenience. After everything became abundant, we forgot these things. If there are routines, it must be that way — everyone does everything together.

Piṇḍapātikavatta: alms-round duties are similar. If all duties were like alms-round — where a monk who doesn't go doesn't get to eat — that might be good, because then everyone would cooperate. But our routines are not like that. Seeing one monk do it, others slack off.

Jantāgharavatta: duties in the fire hut (bathhouse). This is another one. Monks and novices see that someone has brought firewood and placed it nicely — they just grab and stuff it into the fire, piling it up. Some never fetch firewood themselves even once. Think about it: if everyone thinks like that, who will bring it for us to use? If we all use it, we must all fetch it together. If not, we must fetch it together. If we don't want to fetch it, expecting others to bring it for us, that's the easiest way. Sweeping, cleaning, fetching firewood, bringing things to place in order — that is jantāgharavatta.

The fourteen duties are explained extensively. Especially for monks who think themselves clever: if we think it's too troublesome, that staying at this monastery is too hard, that other monasteries are easier — then we go sightseeing. Don't just stay here. Other monasteries may not do these things. That's a different view. But then we won't get to study. What I'm leading you to do is to act according to our duties. The Buddha taught this. This brief explanation is still broad; there's more. Do all these routines.

Senāsanavatta: duties regarding lodgings — both below and above — dusting and sweeping. In the past, I used to go around looking at various huts. I'd see spittoons not washed, not put away, not swept — messy like rat nests. But now I don't go around — I can't manage it like before. People think they've got a comfortable place, so they don't tidy up or maintain things. Everything becomes messy and dirty. What the Buddha taught back then is not wrong at all — it aligns with worldly hygiene. People follow the Buddha too. The Buddha truly knew the worldly way clearly first, then taught.

Throughout the Northeast region, they follow the example of the meditation monks — in monasteries, villages, and among laypeople — from ancient times. In the past, it wasn't really like this. Meditation monks did these things first. If one is a meditation monk, it must be that way — one must practice that way. We follow the Buddha completely. Having ordained in this tradition, dedicating ourselves to the Buddha, we must act according to the Buddha's teachings. If one ordains in another religion, not doing these things is fine. But if one ordains in the Buddha's religion, dedicating oneself to the Buddha, then one must follow just as children follow their parents' teachings. Born into any family, you must listen to your parents' instructions to be called respectful and obedient to them, and that leads to orderliness. Without respect and obedience, each doing as they please, you cannot live together — there will surely be disunity, like water and fire. Nowadays we use water conveniently — we didn't make it so. But if we set up two or three rotating duties, assigning the work to those who do it, then set the schedule — those who never do it become comfortable. Don't forget the kindness of those who do that work.

All these matters, if we do them, bring two benefits. Benefit to the body: good health — not just sitting, lying down, eating, and going. Otherwise, we fit the ancient saying: "So lazy they'd rather die and go ordain in the religion" — because they see monks that way, so they criticize. If we practice these routines regularly, it becomes a way of changing postures. Do this at that time, do that at this time — changing postures, knowing the proper time, knowing the occasion — health improves. That is one benefit.

Another benefit: if we do them with satisfaction, with willingness, aiming to offer respect to the Buddha, then the things we must practice as offerings are exactly these. True, each monk goes for alms and eats individually, but if we consider that we are practicing according to the Buddha's teachings — going for alms according to the Buddha's instructions, acting according to his teachings as an offering to him — then all these routines, if we do them all and do them consistently, doing them as regular practice — that is called vatta: actions done regularly, as an offering to the Buddha. We don't reject them. We think, "We are offering to the Buddha," and that brings ease. We offer to the Buddha, and peace arises.

If we see it as a form of coercion, then it's hopeless. No merit, no routines. That would be disparaging and insulting the Buddha's kindness. Understand this: for everyone ordained in Buddhism, don't think of it as this or that — that novices or children should do it. That's not correct. Some tasks that novices or children do — like weeding grass, sweeping when it's difficult or messy — novices may do them. But understand that doing every duty is the responsibility of every one of us. That is how it becomes meritorious and wholesome. These very merits help support and sustain our practice for benefit, happiness, and ease. If we don't do this, then it's over. If we focus only on meditation and don't consider the routines, how far will meditation go? Without routines, there is no basis for meditation.

But if we have regular routines — doing this at that time, doing that at this time — studying the codes of conduct, don't see routines as inferior. They are for individuals. If in a monastery those duties are not done, it becomes an offense for everyone. If any monk does not do them and does not think about these matters, doing them only sporadically, then it is an offense for those who do not practice. If everyone does them together, then everyone is free from offense.

Routines (kiccavatta) are different from ascetic practices (dhutaṅgavatta). The thirteen ascetic practices do not entail offenses, but people like to do them as a means of refining defilements to make them lighter. Those are dhutaṅgavatta. But these kiccavatta — if you don't do them, you cannot avoid it; they entail offenses. Understand this.