Table of Contents
Teachings of
Master Man Sang: Sutra of the Eight Realizations of Great Beings
Changing With
Circumstances: Gone to Buddhahood
Readers’
Corner: Sorrow of Death, Joy of Rebirth
Dharma Transmitter: Ten
Lessons on Correcting Mistakes (2)
By
Dharma Master Yin Chi
July is a much anticipated time of the
year. Graduates await the announcement of their results, students look forward
to their summer holidays, and parents hope during the vacation to build a solid
foundation for their children as they face a new school year. Taking the
measure of the parents’ attitude, many private educational entities make
intensive use of this period to create business opportunities. They tailor
various classes and special-interest activities to the legions of students,
promising to cultivate multi-talented youngsters and develop well-rounded
students. In sum, July is a much-anticipated and busy time.
Speaking of learning, a story comes
to mind. There was a mother who had received little education. She labored
busily, living at the grassroots level. She did not want that kind of life for
her son. When the child started school, she resolved to nurture his talents.
But she didn’t know how to teach him, not having had proper schooling herself.
All she could do was set an example with her approach to life, encouraging her
son to be diligent and not fear adversity.
Every time the child handed her his
school results, she would show appreciation and smile happily. She displayed
his grades in their living room. When relatives and friends came to visit, she
looked gratified and, pointing to the child’s results on the wall, declared he
had not done too badly. The visitors would smile and nod in agreement, or
encourage the boy to continue working hard. The child just peered shyly at them
and his mother. By the time he graduated from secondary school, he had become
an outstanding student. With a university admission offer in hand, he expressed
his gratitude to his mother. “Thank you, Mom,” he said. “My achievement today
is due entirely to your encouragement and support.”
This July marks the 15th
anniversary of Hong Kong’s return to China. In politics it is also a busy time,
full of anticipation. A new Chief Executive takes the stage, bringing a new
style. For all his self-confidence and ambition, doing the job for the first
time is a fresh challenge. Coping with society’s myriad problems is indeed a
test and a learning opportunity. Whether they support the new leader or not,
after the dust settles most people will probably hope he will be able to solve
an array of livelihood problems and fulfill his election promises. That should
be the wish of the public at large.
In a modern society, everyone talks
about equality. Parents and children, teachers and students, employers and
employees – all need to show mutual respect if effective communication is to
occur. Only this way can there be positive developments in family
relationships, students’ learning and companies’ business results.
The Chief Executive is the head of
our civil service, and time will tell what they may be able to accomplish. As
citizens of Hong Kong, why don’t we be rational, supportive and accommodating,
so as to encourage him to deliver positive results? In a supportive and
encouraging environment, the new Chief Executive’s team will find it hard to
let down the public and its aspirations; they will have to work hard to repay
the people.
As with the boy in the story, his
mother’s encouragement was definitely motivational and heartening, whether or
not he achieved high marks. The child would then know that he should strive
diligently to deliver respectable grades. As the old maxim goes, “All things
flourish when harmony prevails in the family.” When there is too much
negativity, at the individual level we suffer in body and spirit.
The damage is even more serious at societal level. If society is deeply
injured, can citizens enjoy peace and happiness? In a democratic society, the
government serves the public and the people are its employer. Let us learn to
be enlightened practitioners of democracy.
Prosperity and stability are the
common aspiration. Let us tap the Dharma’s wisdom and compassion to nurture
correct and positive thinking. May we emulate the wisdom and compassion of
Bodhisattvas and unite in an attitude of open-minded understanding and
accommodation. That way we can forge a harmonious society, happy lives – and a
better tomorrow.
Sutra of the Eight Realizations of
Great Beings
THE
SEVENTH REALIZATION: To be aware that the five desires
lead to nothing but trouble. Though ordinary people, we do not immerse
ourselves in the pleasures of the world. Always on our minds are a monk’s
garments, a clay bowl and ritual instruments. We set our minds on leaving the
householder’s life and following the Dharma. We live a clean, pure and
dignified life, and are compassionate to all.
We
set our minds on leaving the householder’s life and following the Dharma. We
live a clean, pure and dignified life, and are compassionate to all: There are two ways to leave the
householder’s life. The first is to depart from one’s worldly home – as with
monastics leaving their families, shaving their heads and joining the Sangha to
practice the Dharma. The second type is to leave our homes in the Three Domains.
This refers to our abodes in the domains of desire, form and formlessness. To
leave our homes in the Three Realms means to exit the cycle of rebirth in the
Six Realms and its endless suffering. Moreover, Bodhisattvas seek to leave
their homes in the Nine Realms – that is, to attain Buddhahood. It is useless
to forsake our worldly homes without practicing the Dharma and seeking to end
rebirth. So it is necessary to leave our homes in the Three Domains.
There are four categories of
forsaking the householder’s life. The first is to do so physically, but not
mentally. One who does this has the appearance of a monastic, with shaven head
and robes. But the person is focused not on Dharma practice, but on the six
sensory objects.
The second type is to leave the
household mentally, but not physically. Some householders, for example,
constantly have the Dharma in mind. They uphold the precepts, hear the Dharma
and understand the truth. Impeded by various karmic causes, however, they
aren’t yet able to shave their heads and become monastics under a master. This
is leaving the household mentally but not physically.
The third kind has left behind the
householder’s life both physically and mentally. They shave their heads and
wear robes, and their minds are focused on the Dharma. Their bodies and minds
have both left the household. Such people accord most closely with the Dharma.
The fourth category has left the
household neither physically nor mentally. Such a person does not take on the
appearance of a monastic, nor is he or she mindful of the Dharma. These people
have deeply negative karma and believe neither in cause and effect nor the
Dharma.
Some find it very hard to take
monastic vows. Others want to do so, but circumstances don’t permit them. What
can they do? The Vimalakirti Sutra
tells of 500 sons of community elders who wanted to become monks, but were
prevented by their circumstances. In what manner could they leave the
household? Householder Vimalakirti told them, “Resolving to attain bodhicitta is like joining the monkhood
at once.”
If we vow to cultivate bodhicitta, practice the Dharma to
achieve awakening and help others do so, it would be the same as leaving the
household. If the karmic conditions aren’t ripe to take vows, for the moment we
need not insist on having the appearance of a monastic. The important thing is
that our minds be set on becoming a monk and practicing the Dharma. As the Four
Great Vows say, we must deliver sentient beings, eliminate our afflictions,
learn the Dharma and resolve to gain Buddhahood. To make such vows and to
practice genuinely according to them is no different than leaving the
household.
Actually, being able to take
monastic vows is the result of good karmic fortune accumulated from past lives.
An old saying goes, “Becoming a monastic is the affair of a great person. Not
even those in high places can accomplish it.” “Great person” means someone who
does important, extraordinary things. The passage means that leaving the
household is a remarkable achievement. It cannot be accomplished by ordinary
people, perhaps not even senior officials or ranking aristocrats. That’s
because joining the monkhood requires abandoning all one’s wealth, fame and
power. How can those in lofty positions do that readily?
To set our minds on leaving the
householder’s life, we must resolve to benefit both self and others, take up
the Bodhisattva’s path, cultivate good fortune and wisdom, help save the world
and its people, and comprehensively deliver sentient beings. Only then would taking
monastic vows be meaningful.
To live a clean, pure and dignified
life means to stick scrupulously to the path of the precepts, meditation and
wisdom. In the Buddha’s time monastics were known as “sramana.” They practiced the precepts,
meditation and wisdom, so their actions would be pure and they could eliminate
greed, anger and ignorance. Monastics must strictly observe the Vinaya (monastic
discipline) and display lofty monastic conduct. “Monastic conduct” means pure
actions, while “lofty” is far-reaching, extensive.
If a person can scrupulously observe
the Vinaya
and behave virtuously, he or she naturally brings benefits to sentient beings.
Why? Because those who demonstrate lofty monastic conduct can readily gain the
respect and trust of others. Moreover, they compassionately help the public and
propagate the truth. They instill correct views and knowledge through personal
example.
To benefit others while benefitting
oneself is to cultivate good fortune and wisdom. With the perfection of virtuous
behavior, we can transcend our homes in the Nine Realms and attain Buddhahood.
Gone to Buddhahood
By Wing Ning
It was in
this garden, where Mother leaned on me for support as she recited Amitabha
Buddha’s name, following the tones of the recitation device. That day seems so
close, yet so far away …
Mother was a
strong and wise person. After being diagnosed with tongue cancer, she firmly
believed that no one could guarantee that she would recover or wouldn’t suffer
a relapse. Rather than accept Western-style medical treatment and ruin her
health more quickly, she wanted to make the best use of her remaining time to
do Amitabha-recitation and continue her volunteer work. She didn’t want to
spend her days in vain.
Her
granddaughter invited her to tour Taiwan and undergo natural therapy. Her
children accompanied her there. Unfortunately, Mother’s flagging appetite and
inability to eat weakened her. The doctor suggested that she undergo ten
sessions of electrotherapy while in Taiwan. My husband and I stayed on to
accompany her.
As it
happened, the hospital faced Foguangshan’s Hui-chung Monastery – was it an arrangement by the
Bodhisattvas? Even more remarkably, the monks compassionately allowed us three
strangers to stay in comfortable suites at the temple. They were holding
several days of large-scale services relating to the Bodhisattva Bhaisajyaguru. Mother, in her frail condition, attended
every single service. Moreover, she was able to join the monastery’s daily
morning practice for over 20 days. Her own regular practice included reciting
the Universal Gateway Chapter and
Amitabha-recitation. Heaven knows her devotion to the Dharma.
Back in Hong
Kong, Mother twice made the long trek to Namshan Monastery
to take part in advanced seven-day Amitabha-recitation retreats, accompanied by
her children. During the second retreat her tongue bled profusely. She was
taken to a nearby hospital, but passed out in the street from loss of blood.
Luckily, the bleeding had stopped by the time she arrived at the hospital.
After a
day’s stay at the hospital, Mother was determined to return to the monastery
for Amitabha-recitation. She wanted to complete the retreat, which only had two
days left. We disagreed, but her resolve on matters of the Dharma was very
touching. Three days later, after an 8-9 hour car journey, Mother got home but
was too weak to leave her bed. She needed treatment at the hospital.
To
facilitate our caring for her, Mother moved into our home. During this time she
shuttled often between home and the hospital, tormented by her illness. My
strong mother broke down and wept many times before the Buddhas and
Bodhisattvas and begged to be reborn in the Pure Land. Such scenes were
indescribably painful for us. Yet we gradually began to understand the great
compassion inherent in the Bodhisattvas’ non-intervention.
Mother had
long made known her enjoyment of the liberty she had achieved in her old age.
Taking pleasure in her children’s filial devotions, she was definitely
unwilling to leave the world at this time. Perhaps Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara,
who had protected Mother all her life, knew she had deep meritorious roots and
did not wish to see her continue in the cycle of rebirth through her attachment
to life in this world. Maybe that’s why the Bodhisattva stood by and let her
experience the karmic pain of the world. Amid extreme suffering, she would
perhaps awaken to the suffering inherent in our Saha
world. Like the prodigal returning home, she could then develop a grateful
longing for the grace of the Land of Bliss.
When I saw
Mother’s change of heart, I knew her torment would soon be over. I was grateful
for the subtle help of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Though Mother did ask why
she had come to this, she never showed
the slightest bitterness or anger, nor did she mouth any slanders. And she did
not abandon her recitation of Amitabha’s name. She thought it strange that her
wound seemed susceptible to the Dharma. When she pressed the recitation device
to her injury, the pain seemed to diminish gradually. So she held the device
tightly 24 hours a day.
One day,
Mother bled throughout the night. She calmly asked to be taken to the hospital,
though she knew she might not return. Her illness had become volatile and
unpredictable. Around noon one day Mother cried out wildly, repeatedly saying,
“I don’t want to go anywhere except Amitabha Buddha’s place …” Her cries were
both worrying and comforting. That night two Dharma masters came to visit, and
Mother became unusually calm and clear-headed. Stranger still, the normally
accommodating nurses began to implement strictly the rule that only two
visitors be allowed at a time. The other patients in the room took leave and went
home. Only two monastics were left. It was under such circumstances that they
administered the Bodhisattva vows to Mother. She was serene, clear-headed and
stable.
Mother often
said that dying was not a problem, if only death would come painlessly. To spare
her too much suffering, we asked the doctors to give her more pain-killers. As
a result she was often in a deep sleep, rarely opening her eyes or speaking.
While accompanying her, we only recited sutras and Amitabha Buddha’s name. One
day, as I thrice recited the Buddha’s name while chanting a scripture, Mother,
still with her eyes closed, pressed her palms together! That lasted just a few
seconds, but throughout our recitation of the Ksitigarbha Sutra, Mother repeatedly pressed palms together and
released them … My tears spilled over. She had all along been with the Buddhas
and Bodhisattvas.
The day
Mother passed away, her sister came over from Macau to speak to her about the
Dharma, urging her to repent and telling her to set her mind on rebirth in the
Land of Bliss … Mother was able to nod weakly; she said she understood and
would comply. She was truly great, telling us the Buddha was in her heart and
we shouldn’t worry.
The wee
hours of the morning brought an urgent phone call from the hospital. The male
nurse, who was Catholic, behaved like a Bodhisattva. He had already transferred
Mother to a single room and reminded us to change her clothes before settling
down for Amitabha-recitation. Her sister gave a simple discourse and told her
to recite with us as she breathed.
Her cellphone speaker brought soothing words as well as
instructions from a Dharma master. Listening to the discourse and following our
recitation, Mother let go of her attachments, fears and suffering. Her
breathing slowed, slowed … until she serenely went away with Amitabha Buddha!
With the hospital’s kind cooperation, we auspiciously sent Mother off on the
path to Buddhahood with nearly six hours of out-loud recitation of Amitabha’s
name.
All her life
Mother had been respectful towards the Three Gems and was understanding and
giving towards others. However troublesome a task, she would perform it gladly,
earnestly and with her best effort. As age weakened her physically, she would
fall ill from her exertions. Yet she always said, “If I can still do it, I’ll
do it.” A month later, in the spirit of her longstanding insistence on “working
hard on behalf of sentient beings,” she wordlessly gave us another lesson,
showing us the karmic truth that “merit does not go to waste.”
With the
enthusiastic support of the assembly, Mother’s funeral became a dignified and
moving Dharma service. More than 400 Dharma masters, fellow practitioners,
relatives and friends attended and filled all the seats. The proceedings were
calm and orderly. Monastics and householders sat decorously, creating an
atmosphere that was touching and very special.
As monastics
led the proceedings, the sound of the assembly’s focused and harmonious
recitations filled the premises, seeming to invite the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas
to bear witness. Thus was Mother’s farewell service completed in a manner
exceeding our expectations, the result of grace from the Three Gems, teachers,
parents and sentient beings. We were grateful to the masters, Dharma friends
and all other participants who, with determined purpose, sent Mother on her way
up the golden stairway to the lotus ponds and gain Buddhahood!
Mother, who
did much good during her life, showed us that karma runs through many
lifetimes. When the karmic conditions are ripe, we still have to bear the fruit
of our actions. She also demonstrated that so long as we do not succumb to
bitterness and face up to adverse situations with faith, repentance gratitude
and resolve, we will certainly receive the protection and guidance of the
Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Our path may still be difficult, but it will surely
be less so than that of others. More importantly, we will not meet with
obstacles as we pass away, on our way to gaining Buddhahood!
Hopefully,
Mother’s story will bring revelation, faith and strength to beings who are
suffering from great pain, loneliness, helplessness or fear.
#######
Postscript: After the final sutra-recitation
service for Mother, my elder sister was on her way home when a copper-golden
moth brushed past her shoulder and flew towards the images of the Three Saintly
Beings of the Western Land of Bliss. It alighted on Amitabha’s shoulder and
remained there for a long time, as though having a deep conversation with the
Buddha. It wasn’t until the next day that it disappeared. My sister took a
picture of the incident, which was both beautiful and marvelous. It makes one
believe that the moth was carrying a brief message from the Pure Land.
Sorrow of Death, Joy of Rebirth
By Wing Fun
In the past few months, several
friends passed away. Their departures triggered many thoughts and feelings.
It was six years ago that a good
friend of mine – we had known each other for decades – was diagnosed with colon
cancer. She worked actively to change her lifestyle and managed to stabilize
her illness. After she called me late last year, I paid her a visit the
following day. Though she wore an oxygen device, she spoke with me steadily for
an entire afternoon.
The cancer had spread to her lungs.
She faced her predicament courageously, but was worried about her pure-natured
eldest daughter, who didn’t communicate well. She hoped I would pay more
attention to her child. Later I found out that she was having a session of
chemotherapy every two weeks. After each shot, her oral cavity would fester for
a dozen days. The pain made it hard for her to eat or drink; after getting
better for a couple of days, it was time for her next shot. Spending each day
in agony, without any quality of life, she decided to abandon her treatment.
Hardly a week passed before she went
into the hospital again. Even so, she shared with me the happy news that her
daughter had decided to get married, fulfilling her wish. On the day she passed
away, I rushed to see her at the hospital. She was in great pain, struggling
for every breath and crying out in the process. So I suggested that I perform a
life-releasing ceremony on her behalf. Fortunately, her husband agreed. When I
returned to the hospital, she was fast asleep. She left the world a few hours
later. A few days ago, her family told, me she had chosen to be baptized as a
Christian to avoid the fumes of incense and candles! I could only wish that she
would be received into the kingdom of the Lord.
Another case involved an old
Bodhisattva who had believed in the Dharma for many years. She guided her
daughter and son-in-law the learn the Buddha’s teachings and resolved to become
a steadfast supporter of her Dharma center. At the age of 80, she still set an example
by serving the assembly as a volunteer worker. Just when she was enjoying life
as her children and grandchildren flourished, following the Bodhisattva’s path,
she was diagnosed with a rare form of tongue cancer. Daily she suffered from
being unable to eat or drink normally, and from physical and psychological
torments.
Fortunately, she had planted many
meritorious and auspicious karmic seeds. Her family looked after her well and
performed many virtuous acts, dedicating their merit to her. Above all, she was
able to hear a discourse from a Dharma master as she neared death. She was
surrounded by family members and Dharma friends, who supported her by reciting
the name of Amitabha Buddha. She was able to let go of everything, join in the
recitation and gain rebirth in the Pure Land.
Yet another who passed away was a
young monastic, whom I had known about a dozen years. Though we didn’t see each
other much, I always felt a nameless kind of intimacy with her. First I heard
she was seriously ill, but when I saw her living normally, I thought her
sickness was under control. Then came the bad news that she was critically ill.
I was quite shaken; it was a pity, as someone so young should have been able to
make substantial contributions.
All I could do was to perform a
life-releasing ceremony and dedicate its merit to her, asking the Buddhas and
Bodhisattvas to do what they could, so she would have a bit more time to
accumulate merit. The next morning I heard she was in great pain but was yet
unable to pass on. So I did another life-releasing exercise on her behalf. In
the end, she was received by the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and smoothly attained
rebirth in the Land of Bliss.
The passing of these friends gave me
much food for thought. It also illustrated principles in the Dharma. Most
people think of death as remote, perhaps a few decades away. But when it comes,
no matter how attached we may be to this world, we have to let go of it!
Each person differs in his or her
karma as well as blessings. In the first case, my good friend was fortunate
enough to have a first-class room in a private hospital when the end
approached; she enjoyed the company of family and friends until the last
moment. Yet her extra-worldly seeds – connections with the Dharma – were
insufficiently strong. She chose her final spiritual anchorage according to her
habit energies and ingrained preferences. I hope she will have the chance in a
future life to learn the Dharma, so as to gain true liberation.
The lesson from the old Bodhisattva
was that karma threads through past, present and future. Even if we perform
many good deeds in the present life, they cannot spare us from negative karma
accumulated in prior lives. But so long as we can repent diligently and
transform our attachments and pain into a great compassion capable of bearing
the suffering of sentient beings, we will certainly be reborn in the Pure Land
and continue our practice. This also highlights the difference in fortunes that
befalls a Dharma-learner and a non-learner as they approach death!
The passing of the young monastic is
both saddening and regrettable. Yet since she had undertaken the great vow to
become a nun and deliver people, she will surely be able to return according to
her wishes. For her to depart early and return soon is doubtless the good
fortune of the beings in our world!
Even if we understand that karmic
conditions arise and vanish, coalesce and separate, we would inevitably feel a
reluctance when others leave the world. But a slight shift in thinking would
produce a different perspective. My three friends had suffered greatly from
their illnesses, and since their karmic link with this world had ended, it was
a great comfort that they could depart sooner so their pain would end! Perhaps
this resulted from their accumulation of good karma over one or more lifetimes.
In that case, their passing should actually be cause for joy!
I borrow these verses for an elegy:
“Though my karmic ties to the Saha world have ended, my vow to deliver beings remains
unfulfilled. Now I head to the Pure Land for further practice, so I can return
once more to forge karmic links with people.” Amitabha Buddha!
Ten Lessons on Correcting Mistakes (2)
6. Do not talk about the faults of others.
The ancients said, “Those who speak gossip are troublemakers.” People who
discuss the flaws of others often seek to sow discord. They disrupt the harmony
among people and create tensions in relationships.
While
explaining his views on not speaking ill
of others, Master Hongyi frequently used the words of
the ancients as a foundation. For example, he would note that Confucius had
said, “Be generous and do not reproach others.” That means we should curb our
fault-finding and treat others with accommodation.
7.
Do not hide your own shortcomings.
“Hide” here means to cover up. We make mistakes, but instead of correcting them
we try hard to conceal them or shirk all responsibility for them. Those who
behave like this are selfish and even devious. Only by not covering up our
mistakes can we know that we must rectify them. In the end, we will make fewer
errors.
8.
Do not repeat your mistakes. When we
have offended someone, we must reflect seriously on what we did wrong. If we
are culpable, knowingly or not, we should feel ashamed and afraid. We have to
ask the other’s forgiveness and repent our wrongdoing. We mustn’t conceal our
mistake for reasons of face, deceiving ourselves in the process.
9.
In the face of slander, do not be
defensive. No one can avoid the comments of others. Some of the remarks
will be criticism and some praise. The hardest to bear is unfounded slander by
others. We usually hit back without any regard for consequences, leaving both
sides hurt.
The
ancients said, “How can we stop slander? By not taking issue with it.” So when
others smear you without reason, the slur will fade on its own if you can
ignore it. “If you see something strange, do not regard it as such,” says a
proverb. “If you treat it as abnormal, you’ll only injure yourself.” We will
bring much trouble upon ourselves if we cannot handle slander calmly and
rationally.
10.
Do not become angry. Greed, anger and
ignorance are the three poisons that sentient beings find hard to eradicate.
Anger often causes us much woe. “A single irate thought,” says the Avatamsaka Sutra, “can generate a
million impediments.”
Someone
who gets angry sparks the fires of ignorance. Left unchecked, they can lead to
calamity, inflicting much suffering upon both self and others. That’s why anger
is to be feared.
#####
Master
Hongyi drew on his own experience to teach other
practitioners. He encouraged them in their daily lives to learn to transform
their mistakes into good acts. He even made public examples of his own efforts
over half a century to do so, so his audiences could use them as reference and
avoid repeating them.
We
contemporary people should revisit the valuable advice of Master Hongyi. By doing so we not only can perfect our character,
but also behave in a way worthy of saints and sages.
-
From Master
Hongyi’s On My Experiences in Correcting
Mistakes
By Ven. Yin Chi
QUESTION: Why do people erect stalls at Yulan (Ullambana) Festival and
stage performances of traditional opera? Are they meant for audiences in the
netherworld? Is there any problem if I listen to them?
ANSWER: The Ullambana
festival originated in India. When Buddhism came to China, the festival became
a popular custom. It merged into Chinese culture after a long period and
developed a broad range of folkloric characteristics. The origins of the
practice of erecting stages for shows, popularly known as “miracle theater,”
are now obscure.
It stands to
reason that Yulan was a major religious event in
ancient times. People then laid much emphasis on ancestor worship. Since they
also had little popular entertainment, they built stages and had performances
to honor and commemorate the spirits. Such large-scale events to seek blessings
were known as miracle theater. They entertained the assembly while honoring the
ancestors. Both people and spirits benefitted.
Most
audiences comprise local residents. If you don’t feel there is a problem, you
can participate. But if you have concerns, you can also refrain from doing so.
QUESTION: Once, while dining at a
vegetarian restaurant, I found items such as “sashimi” and “drumstick” listed
on the menu. I found this to be quite hypocritical. The Buddha said that
vegetarianism should come from the heart. What is your opinion?
ANSWER: Before, I
also thought this unbecoming and avoided such menus. The practice is the doing
of businesspeople. Later some proprietors explained to me that they do so to
attract people who are neither vegetarians nor Buddhists. They give the dishes
such names in order to facilitate ordering. If we can take an accommodative
view, the practice is understandable and acceptable. Of course, it would be
better they could adopt names that have the flavor of the Dharma.