Who can truly believe in and accept the law of cause and effect?

Those who truly believe in cause and effect are people who have realized part of cause and effect through direct practice. Ordinary people have never directly realized cause and effect, so even if someone believes in cause and effect, it is only half-belief and half-doubt; they cannot believe completely. This is the reason for so-called insufficient faith. Even bodhisattvas who have attained enlightenment have not truly realized cause and effect directly, and they still have doubts about it. Only when they possess the seed-wisdom (bīja-jñāna) of Yogācāra and have gained a certain degree of direct perception (pratyakṣa) of the causes and effects of all dharmas, clearly understanding the relationship of cause and effect, can they truly believe in cause and effect — doing what should be done and not doing what should not be done, without hesitation or wishful thinking. But even this is only realizing part of cause and effect. Only the Buddhas, who have completely realized cause and effect and can see clearly all causes and all effects, can do so; the bodhisattvas are not yet capable of this.

If you go to persuade a meat-eater to abstain from meat, some will say: "No problem, don't worry, I can bear this debt." But even if you can bear it, the sentient beings being eaten cannot bear it — they are undergoing immense suffering. A person with a heart must not consider only themselves, but must also consider whether sentient beings can endure it, and consider what sentient beings feel. Everyone cherishes their own life; your life is a life — are the lives of other sentient beings not lives? Not considering the feelings of sentient beings, knowingly causing them suffering, and still going on to harm them — this is evil. If one has not done well in ceasing evil and cultivating goodness, then one is not a qualified Buddhist disciple.

As for the matter of eating meat, if one abstains from meat purely from the perspective of cause and effect, this is still selfish and self-serving — it is only because one considers future karmic retribution and the problem of debt that one is compelled to give up meat. Even if this is done correctly, it does not show that this person is a bodhisattva endowed with compassion and loving-kindness, possessing the bodhisattva's mental disposition. This is because the person has not considered the pros and cons of meat-eating from the standpoint of sentient beings, of animals, of the other party; has not compared their own mind with the minds of sentient beings; has not extended from themselves to the other; has not put themselves in the other's place and considered from the perspective of the other's physical and mental feelings and interests; has not empathized with the emotions and suffering feelings of the five aggregates (pañca-skandha) of sentient beings; has not cherished the value of sentient beings' lives. In short, there is no mercy toward sentient beings, no feeling of compassion for all beings. In that case, the meat-eater does not possess the bodhisattva's mental disposition, and has not given rise to the bodhi mind and great compassionate mind of wanting to save sentient beings.

It is like the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas: although they aspire to liberation, it is based on their own personal suffering, without extending that suffering to the vast multitude of sentient beings. So although śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas can liberate themselves from the suffering of birth and death, they are still selfish and self-serving. Bodhisattvas, although they also seek liberation, do not enter nirvāṇa; putting themselves in others' place, they think of how sentient beings also suffer, and along the way lead sentient beings onto the path of liberation together. This is the great compassionate bodhisattva mind that is selfless and without self.

Śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, seeking liberation and not wanting to be bound by cause and effect within the three realms, will strictly uphold the precepts without violating them in the slightest. Even if violating a minor precept could save sentient beings, they would not break the precepts for the sake of sentient beings. Such precept-keeping is purely for oneself, not for sentient beings — it is a selfish act, not bodhisattva conduct. But a bodhisattva, in order to save and deliver sentient beings, is willing to pay any price; even if it means breaking precepts and falling into hell, they do so willingly. As long as sentient beings gain benefit, they do not care about undergoing some karmic retribution themselves, or even about it affecting their own progress on the path. This is the true bodhisattva of great compassion, the true refuge for sentient beings.

Only the direct perceptual (pratyakṣa) manifestation of cause and effect can make sentient beings believe in and accept cause and effect temporarily or permanently. Twenty years ago, in the Northeast, there was a snake catcher who, due to long-term snake catching, had his evil karma ripen and his evil retribution manifest: his skin became like a snake's skin, frequently shedding and then growing anew, unbearably itchy; his face became more and more like a snake's head. The snakes he had killed attached themselves to his body, causing total paralysis so that he could not move. My mother and her group of Buddhist friends went to see him, explained the Buddha's teachings and cause and effect to him, and performed Buddhist services for him and for the snakes he had killed, delivering and liberating them. In the end, he expressed that he would never kill again. Cause and effect being so great and so swift, having received this lesson in this life, he would not kill again. But in future lives, having forgotten this matter and unable to see the direct perceptual retribution, could he still refrain from killing? That is hard to say. Sentient beings tend to forget the pain once the wound has healed — remembering only the pleasures and not the beatings. Only when one's cultivation and realization reach a certain level and afflictions are severed can one avoid creating evil karma; otherwise, it is hard to avoid.

There is also another real-life example of cause and effect. Twenty years ago, in Changchun in the Northeast, there was a monastic master who built a monastery. To build the monastery, he had to open up the mountain and break ground. When opening the mountain, explosives were used to blast apart rocks and earth, which were then leveled with bulldozers. As a result, not long after the mountain was opened, this master fell ill. What caused his illness? It turned out that many living beings lived in the mountain, including snakes, and when the explosives were used, these beings were all blasted to death. After dying, they came to this master to demand his life and take revenge. The snakes in particular would not spare him: many snakes coiled around him. He was hospitalized for several years without recovering, and finally died, having spent a great deal of money on treatment. How unworthy was this monastery — beginning in bloodshed and ending in death. I have heard that some monastic masters, after building monasteries, have poor health, and among the causes is the karma of killing. If one wants to avoid creating the karma of killing, then before opening the mountain and breaking ground, one should recite the Buddha's name and recite mantras to inform the beings in the mountain, giving them a certain amount of time to move away and hide, and then there would not be so much bloodshed.