Fraud in Buddhism

How many people enjoy being deceived, enjoy pursuing such empty fame that satisfies their vanity? As long as it makes them feel different from others, anything goes—even being deceived is worth it. Some people, as long as their sense of self-importance is stirred up, would gladly accept even a bomb; that feeling is precisely what they live for. Gradually, all sorts of demons and monsters come out posing as good spiritual teachers (kalyāṇamitra), "delivering sentient beings"—delivering them right into the ranks of demons and monsters. And these people happen to be fond of exactly such demons and monsters—who can do anything about it?

A good spiritual teacher asks his foolish disciple: Are you a Buddha? The disciple hesitates. The teacher says: Why can you not yet shoulder this? Are you not a Buddha? The disciple then suddenly "sees the light": I am a Buddha! How could I not be? Teacher, you are also a Buddha, and I am also a Buddha—we are all Buddhas to one another. Everyone together praises one another: you are a Buddha, I am a Buddha, you are a god, I am a god, you deliver sentient beings, I deliver sentient beings. We are all extraordinary, above sentient beings, and sentient beings are delivered because of us. And so the whole crowd stands high up in the clouds every day, dizzy and giddy, as if they had drunk several jars of old wine. And so this band of foolish "Buddhas" commits the great karma of false speech, and at the end of their lives, a place in hell awaits them.

After each has "confirmed" the other as a Buddha, the good spiritual teacher instructs: A Buddha has nothing to cultivate, nothing to realize, nothing to attain; henceforth we need not cultivate anymore—just maintaining it is enough. And so the foolish "Buddhas" spend their days happily playing at being false Buddhas, learning nothing and cultivating nothing, calling it "maintaining the realization."

Mental illness can be divided into collective mental illness and individual mental illness. Even individual mental illness is already very hard to deal with; when collective mental illness breaks out, even the Buddha could not remedy it in a short while. Sentient beings are being thoroughly steeped and dyed in the great vat of defilement, unknowingly, as if they had drunk several jars of old wine—impossible to wake up.