Enlightenment

Enlightenment

The pre-dawn wind whistled outside the bamboo walls of the sala when Ajahn Sao, the abbot, entered. He was relieved to leave the chill behind.

Yet, two of his monks had reached a stage of meditation so focused they could sit for hours in the chilly night, wearing light clothing.

Unfortunately, one of them, Lungta, would be sent home in disgrace at noon that day.

The other, Mahasi, had dared to disturb Ajahn Sao’s morning meditation due to a strange phenomenon at the sala. The abbot did not relish leaving the warmth of his abode, but Mahasi was adamant he had to see for himself this strange writing on the blackboard.

Inside the sala, the abbot glared at Mahasi standing amongst the monks huddled around a blackboard.

“On the board, Master,” Mahasi drew his attention to the white letters in chalk on the blackboard. They were in English:

‘As the wheel of endurance liveth forever

Mercy streams through the night’

No one but Ajahn Sao spoke English in the entire village.

"How did this happen?" Ajahn Sao demanded.

"We all came in to meditate at four this morning," said Mahasi. "While meditating we heard the sound of scratching on the board and opened our eyes. We saw the chalk writing these strange words with no hand to guide it."

A chill as biting as the cold outside swept over Ajahn Sao. He felt feeble.

"What does it mean?" Mahasi asked.

Ajahn Sao stared at him, equally dumbfounded, then rage took over when he suspected they were conspiring against him. He wanted to punish all the monks, but years of teaching Dhamma in this ancient monastery, in the forest, had mellowed him. 

It was his temperamental nature that had landed him in this forsaken part of the world when he could have been posted to the Washington Buddhist Vihara, in the U.S. How he longed for that now at this old age.

He ordered all the monks to return to the prayer hall in the abbey and continue their morning ritual of chanting mantras. Ajahn Sao watched everyone file out – all except Mahasi who stood by him.

Mahasi never saw himself as one of the samanara, though he had been with them for only a year. He simply showed up at the abbey one day in a junior monk’s robe wanting to serve. His prowess and skills outmatched even Ajahn Sao’s abilities that the abbot hesitated to discipline him when he needed to. Only one other monk at the abbey could put Mahasi in his place and that monk was leaving that day.

"Mahasi, has Lungta been here?"

"Certainly not. Your instructions. He's banned from participating in all our prayers.” Mahasi did nothing to hide the gratification in his voice.

Ajahn Sao already regretted his decision. He didn’t want to lose Lungta, but allowing Lungta to stay would undermine the abbot in the eyes of all the other monks. Mahasi would make sure of it.

********

Ajahn Sao took the long way back to the monastery in the hope he would find Lungta under the large Bodhi tree. It was a mistake. The cold clung to his aged limbs and he could not shake it off. The gust had picked up and he huddled on the ground blinking hard against the wind to see which way he should go.

His shawl was enough to move from the abbey to the sala, but provided little protection whilst roaming outside in the cold blast, relentless in whipping him to the bone.

As he crouched on the ground, shivering, he felt a blanket thrown over him, and Lungta's strong hand on his arm, helping him up. He welcomed Lungta’s body heat through the blanket as the younger monk placed a protective arm around him, guiding the way.

When they arrived at the abbey, Lungta followed him into his office.

Ajahn Sao walked over to his desk in front of the bookcase while Lungta shut the door and went to prepare tea.

"Where were you tonight?"

"I was praying."

"Outside? In the cold?"

Lungta only raised an eyebrow indicating he should know better than to ask that.

"You know, you remind me a lot of me when I was your age. Reckless and arrogant. You're throwing your whole life away for a book. If you stayed, I could have taught you English."

Lungta placed the hot tea in front of Ajahn Sao and glanced at the books on the bookcase, behind the abbot. "That's right. It's only a book. You have a copy in Thai, right there on your shelf. So why am I being punished for having one?"

"Because you talk about the Bible to the other monks as if it were God's words. You're confusing them."

"Look, you've made your decision. Why wait till noon? I'll start packing."

"Thanks for your help out there." Ajahn Sao called out, knowing very well the chill could have killed him if Lungta had not come along.

Lungta turned around before he reached the door, marched to the bookcase, picked out the Bible and opened it.

"I've wrestled with God over this. I don't want to do this, but here goes. Daniel 5, verses 4 and 5:

'As they drank the wine, they praised the gods of gold and silver, of bronze, iron, wood and stone.

‘Suddenly the fingers of a human hand appeared and wrote on the plaster of the wall, near the lampstand in the royal palace. The king watched the hand as it wrote. His face turned pale and he was so frightened that his legs became weak and his knees were knocking'."

Lungta shut the Bible, left it on Ajahn Sao's desk and walked away.

"Wait!"

Lungta stopped but didn't turn around. "Look, I don't know why I was told to read this to you, but I have to obey God. I told God it wouldn't make sense to you."

"It does make sense to me."

Slowly, Lungta turned around, shock written all over his face.

"Sit down. Tell me more. What happens next?"

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