Contemplating the Merit of Observing the Precepts

Ru Chun: During the three-day New Year's holiday, I arranged for my family to return to our hometown for the holiday, and I stayed home alone. During these three days, I did not go out, did not speak, did not watch TV, did not answer phone calls or voice messages, did not get distracted, and ate one meal a day. Rising early, I first boiled water and lit incense to make offerings to the Buddha, then took my seat, recited mantras, studied the Dharma teachings, and contemplated the Dharma teachings. I often reviewed the Dharma teachings in the group from last year until now, re-examined the Dharma my master taught in the past, and reflected on how my current thinking differs from before, and whether I have made progress. As for the questions my master asked that I previously did not understand, I now considered how much I could understand. When good insights arose, I wrote them down; when there was meditative concentration and a clear train of thought, I wrote with great absorption, and in the process of writing while contemplating, my meditative concentration deepened further. This process was wonderful, and time passed very quickly.

Because the manas grasped all six consciousnesses tightly to work, bound tightly by the manas and focused single-mindedly on one task, unable to do anything else, I could write for an entire afternoon without eating, drinking, or moving. Usually I am accustomed to the seven consciousnesses jumping about busily, each busy with its own affairs; suddenly they all quieted down and worked together on one thing. It felt utterly silent, as if the whole world no longer existed and had nothing to do with me; only the deliberation (manana) and observation of the Dharma remained in my mind, as if it had transformed into a golden, glowing light channel, shining brilliantly. I forgot my body, forgot time and space. Perhaps this is the power of the manas—normally bound tightly by the five aggregates (pañca-skandha) body, occasionally experiencing such emptiness feels very refreshing.

Not going out during these three days was keeping the precepts, that is, the six faculties having less contact with the six sense objects. When the precepts are kept well, meditative concentration naturally follows and improves; when meditative concentration is good, contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) also becomes strong; when contemplative practice is strong, wisdom also progresses accordingly. Therefore, keeping the precepts is the prerequisite and foundation for both concentration and wisdom.

Assessment: When body and mind do not contact people, things, and affairs, this is not only keeping the precepts with the body but chiefly keeping the precepts with the mind. When the mind-ground does not think of or contact miscellaneous affairs, without tangled and disordered thoughts, and does not create defiled dharmas, this is fundamental precept-keeping. Such precepts effectively gather in body and mind, causing meditative concentration to arise and making contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) very effective, and wisdom then appears. This directly corroborates the relationship among the threefold training of precepts, concentration, and wisdom. Many people study Buddhism but do not develop concentration and wisdom precisely because their minds cling to too many things, unable to let go of anything, wanting to contact and create everything, with the six faculties running wild, the six consciousnesses in disorder, and the mind-ground defiled. When the mind is not pure, studying the Dharma yields no results.