translation-files/translate-files/batch0-75【如何建立信仰】/target.dj

# How to Establish Faith

------A talk given at the 13th Bodhi Retreat, 2016

Master Jiqun

[I. Do Humans Need Religious Faith?](#)

[1. What Does Religious Faith Solve?](#)

[2. Misconceptions About Religious Faith](#)

[II. Why Take Buddhism as Faith](#)

[1. Secular "Faith"](#)

[2. From Polytheism to Monotheism](#)

[3. Buddhism: the Faith of Right Awakening](#)

[III. Establishing Buddhist Faith](#)

[1. The Preliminaries and Main Practice of Taking Refuge](#)

[2. The Benefits of Taking Refuge](#)

[IV. Protecting Faith](#)

[1. Guarding the Refuge Essence](#)

[2. Practicing the Three Refuges](#)

[V. Growing Faith](#)

[1. Graduated Practice](#)

[2. Effective Practice](#)

[VI. Elevating Faith](#)

[1. The Foundation for Elevation](#)

[2. The Methods for Elevation](#)

[VII. Conclusion](#)

How to establish faith is a topic I return to often in my Dharma teaching. As early as 2000, I participated in a related interview, later compiled as *Reflections on Religious Faith in the Contemporary World*. Since 2004, I have given many talks on "taking refuge," later compiled as *A Handbook for Refuge Practice*. Around the same time, I compiled *The Liturgy for Group Refuge Practice* and promoted it in various places, hoping to create a regular religious life for Buddhist disciples and thereby strengthen their faith and deepen their spiritual resolve. Moving from teaching the Dharma to promoting group practice marks a shift from theory to practice in building faith. I would say this has been a turning point in my own practice and teaching, as well as the basis for a series of reflections that followed — including the framework of the Three-Stage Practice.

Why has Chinese Buddhism steadily declined since the Song and Yuan dynasties? The key reason is the lack of a concise, practical, and broadly accessible practice system. Schools of thought became increasingly complex, doctrines ever more elaborate — yet, at the same time, teachers of true insight grew fewer and practitioners' capacities weaker. How to resolve this dilemma? We must start by strengthening the foundations.

Although Buddhism offers eighty-four thousand Dharma doors, at its core, none can be separated from five essentials: refuge, aspiration, precepts, right view, and śamatha-vipaśyanā. Among these, refuge is the root of the Buddhadharma; aspiration is the root of practice; precepts are the root of the Sangha; right view and śamatha-vipaśyanā are the roots of liberation. A correct understanding of refuge, a properly conducted refuge ceremony, and graduated practice after taking refuge — these are not merely the threshold for entering the Buddha's path but also the foundation for Buddhism's healthy transmission. Therefore, whether you are preparing to take refuge, or have taken refuge but don't know how to begin practicing, I recommend studying *A Handbook for Refuge Practice*. From the causes of refuge to understanding the Three Jewels, from how to take refuge to its main practices, from the precepts of refuge to its benefits, and finally to how to cultivate refuge — it is probably the most thorough book on "taking refuge" in all of Chinese Buddhism.

Without refuge as a foundation, practice cannot sustain itself. A ten-thousand-foot tower rises from level ground. Just as constructing a tall building must begin with the foundation — the taller the building, the more crucial the foundation, or it will harbor the hidden danger of collapse — so too, in the Three-Stage Practice we advocate, understanding refuge is a vital part of practice, and group refuge practice is a daily commitment. Refuge is not concluded in a single ceremony; it runs through the entire journey of practice toward buddhahood. In this sense, no Dharma door can be separated from mindfulness of the Buddha, mindfulness of the Dharma, and mindfulness of the Sangha.

Beyond refuge, I have also given a dedicated talk, *A Buddhist's Faith*, which clarified questions such as whether Buddhism is theistic or non-theistic, and what Buddhists should and should not believe. Why return to the theme of "faith" now? Recently, I was invited to serve as a judge for the "Chinese Buddhist Sutra Lecture Competition." One of the themes was to explore, based on a sutra, how Buddhists should "establish faith" — and many participating monastics chose this topic.

As a judge, I was asked to offer commentary on these lectures. I proposed a framework, starting from "Do humans need faith?" and proceeding to how to establish, protect, and elevate that faith. I feel these are questions well worth reflecting on. Otherwise, as we choose a faith, we often drift in confusion, plagued by indecision; and even after we have found faith, our minds lack a stable anchor, still wavering and uncertain. This is precisely why, even as the number of Buddhists grows year by year and society's need for the Dharma steadily increases, the overall trend of diminishing faith within the Buddhist community has not reversed. That is to say, these refuge ceremonies and practice efforts, taken as a whole, have quantity but lack quality.

How can we turn this around? We must start from the very choice of faith. At every step, we help the practitioner know both *what* to do and *why* to do it — to understand the reasoning behind the action. Only through reflection can faith truly take root in the heart. With this framework in mind, I would like to share these reflections with you.

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## I. Do Humans Need Religious Faith?

I raise this question because many people consider religious faith optional, not a necessity of life. Our past impressions often cast religion as a crutch in times of setback, a pastime for the elderly with nothing left to do, a comfort for the lonely and forsaken — in short, something needed only by the weak. In recent years, with prominent figures and celebrities taking it up, embracing Buddhism (including wearing prayer beads) has become a fashion label, a form of elite consumption — even mocked as one of "the four new clichés." The arrogance and prejudice reflected in these two extremes both stem from a shallow understanding of faith.

To clarify this, we must grasp what religious faith actually entails — what questions it seeks to answer, and what it can truly offer us. Only then can we determine: do we genuinely need faith, or are we merely following a trend?

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###### 1. What Does Religious Faith Solve?

Every sector of society addresses its own domain: agriculture solves the problem of food; commerce solves the problem of trade; industry covers every aspect of clothing, food, shelter, and transportation, and itself encompasses many sub-fields. So what does religious faith solve?

Human problems are many and varied, but when distilled, they fall into two categories: those of survival, and those of the spirit. Survival problems can be addressed through hard work, science, technology, and so on; once basic survival is secured, we can continue raising the quality of life. Spiritual problems, it is true, can find some outlet in art and philosophy — but when we ascend to humanity's perennial questions, religious faith inevitably comes into play.

From the ancient Greek philosopher's injunction "Know thyself" three thousand years ago, to the Brahmanic ideal of "the unity of Brahman and Ātman," to Gauguin's late-19th-century masterpiece titled *Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?* — all express humanity's millennia-long quest to fathom the truth of life. Of this celebrated painting in the Western canon, the artist wrote: "Its meaning far surpasses that of all my previous works; I can never paint a better or equally valuable picture. Before my death, I poured all my remaining energy into this canvas." This was Gauguin's ultimate inquiry — and it is an inquiry each of us must eventually face.

Where do we come from at birth, and where do we go at death? We do not know the origin of life — before our parents gave birth to us, did this "self" not exist? Neither do we know our final destination — after death arrives, where will this "self" go? We live in this world, and whether we are the wealthiest tycoon or utterly destitute, whether we hold the highest office or occupy the lowest rung, in the end, death brings everything to zero. Beyond all external trappings, does life simply terminate completely? Where, ultimately, does it go? In his own time, the prince who would become the Buddha, precisely because he witnessed the sufferings of aging, sickness, and death, came to see the illusory nature of youth, beauty, glory, and wealth. When aging, sickness, and death descend, nothing can be relied upon, nothing can help.

Beyond birth and death: why do we live? What is the meaning of life? Every day, we work and take care of our families — while satisfying survival needs, we also advance technology and improve material life. Although all this brings convenience and temporary satisfaction, from an ultimate perspective, everything passes. If we build life's meaning on the foundation of material civilization, then when that civilization collapses, will the meaning it carries likewise disappear, left homeless? Or is it that all meaning ultimately points to meaninglessness?

To speak of life's meaning, we cannot avoid the question of self-knowledge. We all care about ourselves, are all invested in ourselves — but what, exactly, does "self" refer to? As science races forward, as humanity can now travel into space and plumb the ocean depths, expanding the frontiers of knowledge, we find it harder and harder to locate ourselves. We can look back at Earth from space, yet we cannot see ourselves clearly in the present moment, cannot perceive the truth of life.

Furthermore, what is the fundamental nature of the world? What force governs it? By what laws does it operate? Philosophers ponder these questions but have reached no consensus; scientists probe them, but their answers are constantly revised and updated, never settled. Some may feel these are metaphysical questions with little bearing on daily life, not worth our attention. In truth, *how* we understand ourselves, life, and the world directly shapes what kind of outlook on life, worldview, and value system we develop — it shapes how we perceive and handle every situation we encounter, and it shapes the quality of our very being.

In life, faced with the same situation, different people will have different understandings and responses. For example, when misfortune strikes, some say, "A loss may turn out to be a gain," and accept it peacefully; some say, "Failure is the mother of success," and redouble their efforts; others fume, "Why is heaven so unfair?" and seethe with resentment; still others think, "It's all fate — nothing helps," and never recover. Why such differences? It all depends on each person's outlook on life, worldview, and value system.

How we see a problem determines the impact that problem has on us, rather than — as we usually assume — it being determined solely by external conditions. Thus, our worldview, outlook on life, and values are not abstract metaphysical concepts; they touch every dimension of our lives, from the paths we choose in life to the quality of our daily food, clothing, shelter, and transportation.

Although we rely on our worldview, outlook, and values at every moment, these are precisely what modern education most sorely lacks. Why do so many people lack a moral bottom line, or any principles for being a decent human being? Why are inner restlessness and hostility so widespread? The reasons are many, but at root, they lie in disordered values and confusion about life's ultimate questions. Not knowing "who I am," one cannot have a proper outlook on life — it becomes "live for today, drink while you can," caring only about the present with no thought for the future. Not knowing "the meaning of life," one cannot have proper values — it becomes "every man for himself, the devil take the hindmost," thinking only of oneself with no regard for others. Not knowing "the truth of the world," one cannot have a proper worldview — it becomes "after I die, let the flood come," seeing only the local picture and ignoring the whole.

So it is clear: from establishing our worldview and values to how we conduct ourselves, and even the entire moral fabric of society — all derive from the ultimate questions of life. This exploration of the ultimate gives us the "big picture of life." Only when we stand at this height can we know what is truly important, what is secondary, and how to choose. For what you see is not just the present moment, but also the past and the future; what you see is not just yourself, but also the living beings and the mountains, rivers, and great earth intimately connected with you. Otherwise, what we perceive and ponder remains confined to the immediate — and the result is inevitably shortsightedness, grasping at one thing only to lose another.

I often say that what Buddhism offers the world and humanity is universal. For although individual lives differ, so long as you are unwilling to live like an animal, you will face the same confusion, the same ultimate questions. The universal value of Buddhism lies precisely in this: through insight into the nature of mind, it resolves life's fundamental confusion at the root. No other discipline can do this. In this sense, everyone needs the Buddhadharma — otherwise, there is no finding the path out of life's predicament.

On the practical level — including how to view wealth, environmental protection, happiness, success, and morality — the Buddhadharma offers wise perspectives. Its guidance is not a set of simple, issue-by-issue rules, but rests on the transformation of the mind, tailored to different capacities and needs. Take the Buddhist view of wealth: it sets different standards for practitioners of the Human and Deva Vehicle, the Śrāvaka Vehicle, and the Bodhisattva Vehicle. This allows people to begin practicing according to their present capacity, without being daunted by a starting point set too high; it also lets them see the room for growth ahead, so they never plateau at their current level. This kind of guidance is skillful, inclusive, and compassionate — beneficial not only for our present and future, but also for ourselves and all living beings.

To summarize: faith, first of all, resolves humanity's perennial questions; second, it addresses the practical issues of our worldly lives. As long as you wish to uncover the truth of life, you cannot do without religious faith. Someone might say, "I don't feel any particular confusion, and I don't need to know any truth." In fact, that only means you are numb or have deliberately blocked it out. These questions arise with life itself — just like death: whether you face it or avoid it, it will come. Only by preparing in advance can you meet the threshold of life's transition with composure and seize the opportunity. Likewise, these life questions are present all along, and will remain so life after life. Eventually, you will need faith to find the answers.

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###### 2. Misconceptions About Religious Faith

If religious faith is so important, why do so many in Chinese society consider it optional? There are several main reasons.

First, misconceptions about religion itself. Some equate religion with superstition — a product of human imagination from a time when nature could not be understood. This conflates various forms of primitive worship and mythology with Buddhism. Others regard religion as the opiate of the masses, a tool for the ruling class to control the people — a view that has long been misread. Regrettably, because these are deeply ingrained first impressions, such misunderstandings have greatly obstructed people's ability to truly understand religious faith.

Second, the accumulated ossified customs that developed in religion over its long history. In the case of Buddhism, tendencies toward otherworldliness, superstition about ghosts and spirits, and — as the caliber of the faithful declined — superstition and superficiality, compounded by misrepresentations in literature and the arts, have led to all kinds of misunderstandings about Buddhism and its practical relevance. Many assume Buddhism exists only to serve the dead and departed, or that it is merely a shelter for the dejected who have hit rock bottom — with no bearing on real life.

Third, people are either fixated on material things or consumed by the struggle to survive, and have not yet generated a genuine need for faith. Human life cannot do without material nourishment, but it is also easily enslaved by it. Over two thousand years ago, Zhuangzi already remarked that "the gentlemen of today's vulgar world mostly endanger their bodies and abandon life in pursuit of material things." More than two millennia later, have material temptations not multiplied a thousandfold or more? Today, the entire society takes consumerism as its pleasure and its guide. In such an environment, faith is naturally diminished, even forgotten. For many, life is simply about getting married and building a career — earning a bit more, living a bit better — then having and raising children, accompanying them through their own cycle from marrying and building a career to living a bit better, and that seems to wrap it up. Society's value orientation does not encourage us to reflect on the meaning of life; it only urges us to earn more, to succeed faster. Past eras revered wisdom and virtue, and held up philosophers and sages as models; modern society worships wealth and entertainment, and chases after tycoons and celebrities. When such inquiry is discouraged, it is no wonder many feel faith is optional.

In truth, the ultimate questions of life are the same for everyone — the only difference is whether you are aware of them. These questions do not vanish because we ignore them, nor are they resolved because we avoid them, and no field of study can provide the answers. Once we recognize how important they are, we must seek answers within religious faith. I will elaborate on this point below.

In my Dharma teaching, I have also noticed that if someone has not reflected deeply on life, then when they listen to the Dharma, they merely listen. They may feel inspired, they may find it makes sense — but there remains a layer of distance. In contemporary terms, it does not "land in the heart"; it stirs no deep resonance from within. Only when one genuinely attends to the ultimate questions and regards them as the single most important matter of life can one recognize just how great the value of Dharma wisdom truly is. It is like a rare jewel: in the eyes of someone who does not recognize its worth and has no need of it, it is merely a stone. It may have *some* use, but only as a stone — its true value can never be brought to light.

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## II. Why Take Buddhism as Faith

People hold many kinds of faith. Beyond religion, the ancients worshipped heroes as saviors who upheld justice; philosophers placed their faith in reason, believing "I think, therefore I am"; scientists trust empirical proof, regarding science as the sole path to truth. Furthermore, the Confucian ideal of the Great Harmony, the utopias envisioned by Western thinkers, the ideal of communism — in a broad sense, all belong to the domain of faith. In today's society, what people typically revere are money, power, and pleasure. In a certain sense, these are "faiths" as well. For faith means extreme trust in and respect for a particular proposition, ideology, religion, or person — it is what feels most powerful and most worthy of commitment within one's cognitive world. So why should we choose Buddhism as our faith? Why should we take the Three Jewels as our ultimate support? Let us first examine these other "faiths."

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###### 1. Secular "Faith"

We know that while money and power can certainly bring various pleasures, they also bring more trouble and pain — life is full of examples of this, so I need not elaborate. But what about philosophy and science? Western philosophy places great weight on reason, and indeed, philosophy itself originated from rational thought replacing primitive religion and mythology. Yet philosophers themselves have discovered that reason is constrained by personal experience and the framework of one's knowledge — it is a reading "seen as ridges from one side and peaks from another," carrying varying degrees of one-sidedness and limitation. Scientists trust empirical proof, but all scientific discoveries are outwardly directed and are constantly updated, even overturned. Though the pace of updating accelerates, when confronted with the boundless universe, no matter how many discoveries are made, we still cannot escape the predicament that "life has limits, but knowledge has none."

The world has two dimensions: the finite and the infinite. With our finite capacity, we can only solve finite problems — such as issues of survival, quality of life, even advancing science, creating art, propelling human civilization, and so on. But when we face the infinite — when we face humanity's perennial questions — finite capacity cannot resolve them. Money and power cannot answer "Who am I?" Philosophy cannot decode "Where do we come from, where do we go?" Science cannot tell us "What is the meaning of life?" Thus, no secular "faith" can ever substitute for religion.

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###### 2. From Polytheism to Monotheism

Speaking of religion — from primitive nature worship and animism, to the countless new religious movements still emerging today, the varieties are too numerous to count. Humanity's earliest faith was worship of natural forces and objects — the sun, moon, and stars; wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. This arose partly from ignorance of nature, and partly from deep dependence on nature for survival, which gave rise to intense awe. People believed that all things in heaven and earth, even natural phenomena, were governed by separate deities — a wind god, a rain god, a thunder god, and so on. Once a deity was offended, various punishments would follow. Such faith was often closely tied to geography: people living by the sea and those living in the mountains had clearly different objects of worship. Just as the land shapes its people, faith was shaped by the physical environment.

With the advance of civilization, polytheistic religions emerged, represented by the pantheon of Olympian gods in ancient Greece. Moreover, most Indian religions, including Chinese Daoism, are also polytheistic. Polytheism believes in the existence of many deities, differing in rank, supernatural power, and ability. Relative to humans, though these deities possess extraordinary powers, they still experience joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure, and may even vie in jealousy. The Greek gods in particular not only take human form and disposition but even mirror human social relations, producing a rich lore of legends spanning heaven and earth. In their relations with humans, people would pray to the deities for help but never regarded them as absolute masters. Rather, the deities were more helpers than rulers in human life.

The emergence of monotheism gradually replaced the primitive polytheistic religions, becoming the faith with the most followers, the greatest influence, and the widest geographical spread. Monotheism holds that the universe has only one supreme god — such as Jehovah in Christianity or Allah in Islam. This god created the universe and all things, and determines fortune and misfortune. He is an omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient spiritual entity. Believers can only pray for the Lord's grace and attain salvation through unreserved obedience. For Christians, for example, as long as you believe, all problems can be resolved by the Creator. The world was created by God — there is no need to inquire into truth; humans are God's children — there is no need to ask "Who am I?"; one's fate is in God's hands — he decides whether you ascend to heaven or fall to hell, so there is no need to ask "Where do we come from, where do we go?" In short, so long as you believe in God unconditionally, you receive forgiveness and dwell with the Lord in heaven.

God is not only omnipotent but also possesses a spirit of universal love. But let us examine: what does this universal love look like? God loves humanity, yet he offers animals — who also cherish life and fear death — as food for humans. God once unleashed a flood that, apart from the survivors on Noah's Ark, destroyed countless lives in a single stroke. God loves his followers, but not the heathens — and this very idea has sparked repeated persecutions of non-believers throughout history.

From a Buddhist perspective, the deities of polytheism belong to the heavenly realm among the six destinies of sentient beings. Although they enjoy immense blessings, they have not yet eradicated greed, aversion, and delusion, and will still cycle through saṃsāra. Furthermore, Buddhism's teaching of dependent origination rejects the worship of a creator god: all phenomena arise from the convergence of causes and conditions, and there is no sovereign deity who creates the universe and determines all things. So what, then, is Buddhism?

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###### 3. Buddhism: the Faith of Right Awakening

Buddhism originated in ancient India around 2,500 years ago, during the flourishing of Brahmanism. Thus, many Buddhist ideas are framed as critical responses to Brahmanic doctrines. Brahmanism propounds the unity of Brahman and Ātman: "Brahman" represents the cosmic great self, while within each living being there is an individual lesser self (Ātman) — and the two are ultimately one. This "self" is the subject of rebirth; once one loses sight of the true self, one betrays the cosmic great self. The supreme state of practice, therefore, is to realize the unity of Brahman and Ātman, thereby attaining liberation from saṃsāra.

But Buddhism sees life as a continuity of resemblance, neither permanent nor annihilated — each being's life form, fortunes, and misfortunes are determined by karma, and there is no permanent, unchanging self within. The Three Dharma Seals of Buddhism are: "All conditioned phenomena are impermanent; all phenomena are without self; nirvāṇa is perfect peace." Among these, "all phenomena are without self" is the very foundation that distinguishes Buddhism from every other religion and philosophy. But we must understand that the essential point of "no-self" is to break attachment to self — to negate the mistaken identification with a self — not to say that you do not exist, nor to negate this life-form itself. Clinging to a "self" only traps one in self-attachment, creating afflictions and fueling saṃsāra rather than liberation. Due to this fundamental doctrinal difference, Buddhism differs from Brahmanism in its understanding of karma, results, the principles of rebirth, and the path to liberation.

Furthermore, Buddhism holds that the formation and development of the world are determined by causes and conditions: when conditions converge, phenomena arise; when conditions disperse, they cease. There is no being who decides all this. In this sense, Buddhism is "non-theistic." But this "non-theism" is not the same as materialism — it does not deny the existence of deities as a life form. Buddhism recognizes that gods belong to the heavenly realm among the six destinies, rather than being a supreme authority that creates and governs the world.

This "no-self" and "non-theism" were not put forward by the Buddha to oppose anything, nor did they arise from speculation or divine revelation — they were realized firsthand through his wisdom. When the Buddha attained awakening beneath the Bodhi tree, he activated wisdom through meditative concentration and discovered that life is constituted by twelve links of dependent origination: ignorance, formations, consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, feeling, craving, grasping, becoming, birth, and aging-and-death. By observing dependent origination in forward sequence, he thoroughly understood the causality of saṃsāra; by observing it in reverse sequence, he thoroughly understood the causality of liberation; by observing it in both forward and reverse sequence, he thoroughly understood the true nature of all phenomena. Because everything arises through dependent origination, there is no "self" that serves as the subject, nor any "Brahman" or "creator god" that creates and determines all things. Thus, the Buddha is not the creator of truth, but its discoverer; not an omnipotent savior, but a guide who points us in the direction of ceasing wrong and doing good, and shows the path from delusion to awakening.

True liberation must be achieved through our own practice. This is another vital hallmark of Buddhism — it advocates self-power, not other-power. Although Buddhism also emphasizes the blessings of the buddhas and bodhisattvas and the role of spiritual teachers, all these are merely supportive conditions along the path. The blessings of the buddhas and bodhisattvas can only connect with us through the practitioner's faith and receptivity; the role of a spiritual teacher can only take effect through the practitioner's reliance and practice. That is to say, external forces must be transformed through one's own efforts; they cannot produce a direct effect on their own. It is not that the Buddha can personally eliminate your karmic obstructions and secure you a rebirth in the human or heavenly realms.

The Buddha means "the Awakened One" — one who has not only awakened himself but can also guide sentient beings toward awakening, perfect in both wisdom and conduct. As Buddhist disciples, after we choose the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha — the Three Jewels — as the objects of our faith, how should we practice to become genuine children of the Buddha, rather than endless supplicants treating the Buddha as a "protective deity"? The crux of the matter is reasoned reflection. Thus, the standard pathways of practice — study, reflection, and practice; the Noble Eightfold Path; the four practices — all place reasoned reflection at the center. In the process of study, reflection, and practice, only through reflection can we understand and accept the Dharma we have heard, and then put it into practice. In the Noble Eightfold Path, right view cannot be separated from right thought; without the guidance of right view, there can be no right speech, right action, or right livelihood, nor can we establish right mindfulness and right concentration through right effort. Among the four practices, we draw near to spiritual teachers in order to hear the true Dharma; then, through wise contemplation, we follow the Dharma in our practice and step onto the path.

All this tells us the importance of reason. Yet Buddhism does not promote reason one-sidedly; it also reminds us that "knowledge itself is the root of all calamities." Reason is a double-edged sword: if our thinking is not in accord with the Dharma, we will construct mistaken views and develop unwholesome conduct. Indeed, all of humanity's problems, troubles, and sufferings stem from this. So we must use reason skillfully, not indulge in aimless speculation. In sum, Buddhism does not ask us to believe blindly, nor to dump all our problems at the Buddha's feet — it asks us to think deeply, to make our choice and confirm it through reflection.

Yet as I said earlier, we cannot use finite reason to grasp the infinite. Mere reasoning cannot directly reach the fundamental nature of the world. How, then, can we transcend the finite? It sounds exceedingly difficult, but the truth is, it lies in a single thought — between delusion and awakening. For the mind is originally boundless, as the saying goes: "The mind encompasses the vast emptiness of space; its measure fills worlds as numerous as grains of sand." It is only bound by ignorance, so that we can perceive only the little bit right before us — the result, a gulf as wide as heaven from earth. Therefore, we must draw back the mind that chases outward and search inward. Because it is right there, already present — the more we seek outside, the farther we drift from the Way.

How do we search? On one hand, through meditative concentration we develop stability, so the mind settles and discursive thought subsides. On the other hand, through the illumination of wisdom, the light of our awakened nature reveals itself. Once the inherent, intrinsic wisdom is activated, the mind and the vast emptiness of space are one — and we can become awakened ones like the Buddha. In other words, we are all capable of completing our own spiritual rescue, rather than sitting passively and waiting for a god's salvation.

Thus, Buddhism is the faith of *right awakening*. The Buddha's attainment — *anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi*, unsurpassed, perfect, and complete awakening — is the most ultimate and consummate form of awakening. This awakening is not something only the Buddha can achieve; in truth, all sentient beings possess the awakened nature and can embark on the path of awakening, resolving humanity's perennial questions and comprehending the truth of life and the world. The essence of mind is the essence of the universe — because he realized this wisdom, the Buddha is called "the All-Knowing One." "All-knowing" means spanning the ten directions horizontally and pervading past, present, and future vertically — knowing everything. And this all-knowing can be personally verified, not merely heard about. In a word, so long as you wish to resolve the ultimate questions of life, you should choose Buddhism.

The *Mahāyāna-śatadharma-prakāśa-mukha-śāstra* further tells us that the "faith" of belief belongs to a mental factor, defined as "profound conviction and joyful aspiration toward the real, the virtuous, and the capable — purity of mind is faith." This also tells us what kind of object we should choose for our faith. First, the object is genuinely existent — not imagined or fabricated. Second, it possesses perfect wisdom — sufficient to resolve every human confusion, capable of revealing the truth about self, birth and death, and the world, and with the ability to guide our practice. Third, it possesses perfect virtue — having thoroughly eradicated greed, aversion, and delusion, and embodying unconditional great kindness and great compassion that regards all beings as one with itself. Measured by these criteria, it can be said that only the Buddha meets them. This is the vital premise for choosing Buddhism as our faith.

It is precisely because the Buddhadharma can resolve the ultimate questions of life that we see the Buddha, in a past life, sacrificing his body for half a verse; the Second Patriarch Huike cutting off his arm to seek the Dharma; Xuanzang's ten-thousand-mile westward journey; and generation after generation of patriarchs and great masters giving their very lives for the Dharma. Compared with this ultimate meaning, immediate gain and even life itself count for little. Think about it: if we do not know "who I am," if we do not know why we live, what difference remains between us and animals? The same eating and mating, the same birth, aging, sickness, and death, the same lack of freedom. Though our life forms may differ, in essence we are all merely drifting along with karma. Studying the Dharma allows us to perceive the truth of life and begin steering our lives with the power of aspiration — transforming from passive transmigration to active navigation.

When we choose Buddhism as our faith, do we recognize this meaning? In truth, how much effect faith has on us depends on what we demand of it, and also on how deeply we understand it. If your need for faith is modest, merely seeking some spiritual comfort, many faiths can meet that — not necessarily Buddhism. If your understanding of Buddhism is shallow, you will only harvest a fraction of its power — what the saying calls "shooting a pearl at a sparrow." In sum, what you ask of faith determines not only what you choose, but also how high your faith can reach.

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## III. Establishing Buddhist Faith

We now know what questions faith seeks to resolve, and we know that the Buddhadharma is the most ultimate and complete answer. So how do we establish this faith within our hearts? It is like knowing that a certain software works wonders and can greatly ease our workload — but even if we get hold of the software, as long as we don't install and run it on the computer, it can't produce any effect. We know that installing software follows established procedures. Likewise, establishing Buddhist faith involves a corresponding process — first and foremost, the refuge ceremony.

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###### 1. The Preliminaries and Main Practice of Taking Refuge

Many people have taken refuge, yet remain utterly unclear about what it truly means, what choosing Buddhism as their faith entails, or how profoundly it can affect their lives. We can say the preliminaries have been inadequately prepared — a solid psychological foundation for "going for refuge" was never laid. And what about the main practice? In many refuge ceremonies, though the event itself may be quite grand, the officiant often does not explain the key points of the ceremony or remind those taking refuge which moments require them to listen closely to the officiant's guidance, to generate a sincere heart of refuge, and then to make their solemn vows before the witness of the Three Jewels of the ten directions.

We must understand that the quality of one's aspiration determines the caliber of the refuge essence one receives, and the vow directly determines whether we receive it at all. If both the preliminaries and the main practice fall short, such a refuge ceremony is like a failed software installation. One may think it's been completed, but in fact it was never truly installed — no refuge essence was obtained, and naturally, it produces no effect.

The crux of taking refuge is confirming the Three Jewels — Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha — as one's ultimate support, and through a proper ceremony completing the vow: "I go for refuge to the Buddha, I go for refuge to the Dharma, I go for refuge to the Sangha." This recognition and declaration are the most crucial part of the refuge process. Everything else — the chanting, the assisting monastics, the arrangement of the venue — only serves to create the right atmosphere, helping us bring forth devotion, reverence, and purity of mind so that the "software" installs smoothly. This installation is the obtaining of the refuge essence, which will become the driving force of future practice, propelling us toward liberation.

In life, we also make various kinds of vows and declarations. Only when you make such a declaration from the heart and express it outwardly does it carry power. If you casually toss off a few words, will they produce any binding or motivating force within you? The ancients prized the sincerity of "a promise worth a thousand in gold" — but taking refuge is an entrustment of one's entire being, a choice of life's direction. The value of this vow is far greater than a thousand in gold.

How much we understand the meaning of refuge determines what kind of faith we can establish in the Three Jewels. If that understanding is shallow, the corresponding faith will be shaky — barely there, as if it were not. Some people take refuge simply because they see others doing it, drifting into it without clarity. They neither know what the Three Jewels are, nor what taking refuge and studying the Dharma mean for life. Of course, this still creates a karmic connection, but if one does not solidify it through further study, that connection will soon be marginalized.

A properly conducted ceremony determines not only whether we obtain the refuge essence, but also marks an entirely new starting point in life. For the individual, this is the threshold from delusion toward awakening; for the propagation of the Buddha's teaching, this is the moment one formally becomes a participant in transmitting and promoting the culture of awakening. From this moment onward, we join the team formed by the Buddha and the patriarchs across the ages, becoming one lamp in an unbroken chain — what a momentous significance this holds.

Yet this significance is different for everyone. The depth of meaning refuge has for us can only reach as far as our understanding and aspiration allow. Regrettably, many who have taken refuge — because their understanding is insufficient and the ceremony was not conducted properly — gain little more than a Dharma name and a refuge certificate, without the Buddhadharma truly making a difference in their mental continuum. In truth, if we cannot let the Dharma enter our mental continuum, the Dharma name and certificate are merely nominal — they prove nothing.

So what, then, can taking refuge actually bring us?

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###### 2. The Benefits of Taking Refuge

Regarding the benefits of refuge, *A Handbook for Refuge Practice* lists eight: entering the ranks of Buddhist disciples, being the foundation of all precepts, reducing and eliminating obstacles, accumulating vast merit, not falling into the lower destinies, freedom from harm by humans and non-humans, fulfillment of all aspirations, and swiftly attaining buddhahood — emphasizing the rewards from the perspective of faith. And from the perspective of everyday life, taking refuge enables us to find a spiritual home, establish a spiritual pursuit, realize life's meaning, become a person of virtue, and cultivate compassionate love.

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###### (1) Finding a Spiritual Home

Without Buddhist faith, our lives rest on a material foundation, taking family, career, and relationships as our home; or they rest on culture and the arts, taking creativity, craft, and appreciation as our joy. But we must realize that all these are only temporarily connected to us. When this life reaches its end, where will we go? We will still be drifting with karma. No matter how close the bonds, you must take that road alone; no matter how great the career, you leave with empty hands; no matter how brilliant the artistic achievement, you carry nothing away. After a lifetime of frantic activity, in the end we don't even know where we are heading.

Only by practicing the Buddhadharma can we discern the true meaning of life, establish an ultimate goal, understand what way stations lie along the road, and thereby cease wrong and do good, letting the power of aspiration replace the force of karma, progressing upward life after life until liberation. If we arouse bodhicitta, we can even return by the power of our vows to benefit sentient beings extensively throughout the worlds of the ten directions.

I often say: without the Buddhadharma, life truly has a profound problem. Because if we have no insight into the nature of mind, life will have no depth; if we have no understanding of rebirth, life will have no span. Just imagine: a life with neither depth nor span — can it be a true home, a place where we can settle our body and mind? Many people fear the approach of old age, the approach of death, precisely because they have lived in a fog. Busy, busy, busy — only to find that everything they once possessed is falling away, nothing they can hold on to. They don't know what might comfort them at the end of this life, still less how to face what comes after. There is a song called "Nothing to Rely On in Old Age" — but what's truly terrifying is a heart with no country, a mind adrift with nowhere to settle.

A person who has found a spiritual home, no matter what stage of life they are in or what they encounter, will never lose direction — they will always know what to do to move toward the ultimate goal. In other words, every step they take is steady, clear, and forward-moving.

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###### (2) Establishing a Spiritual Pursuit

People often say: "Why study the Buddha's path? Just be a decent person — that's enough." I ask them: what is the standard for a decent person? The Buddha was decent; Jesus was decent; Confucius was decent; so was Lei Feng, and the "Good People of China" selected every year. What kind of decent person do you want to be? And what kind can you actually become? In fact, becoming a decent person cannot be separated from an understanding of human nature. Without it, the so-called "decent person" is often just a vague, impressionistic notion. Maybe it means a mild temperament, maybe helping others, maybe upright conduct — or maybe simply nothing more than abiding by the law. In these morally degraded times, we have even come to understand "decent person" as someone who merely follows the basic rules of being human.

The ancients in China aspired to become sages and worthies, while the ultimate goal of Buddhist practice is to perfect great compassion and great wisdom like the buddhas and bodhisattvas. How can this be accomplished? The Buddhadharma provides us with abundant theoretical guidance and practical pathways. Establishing a spiritual pursuit on this basis can lead us, step by step, to fulfill the qualities of practice in the Human and Deva Vehicle, the path of liberation, and the Bodhisattva path — benefiting life after life. This is a spiritual pursuit in its ultimate sense, because what it transforms is the quality of our very being. By contrast, what we usually mean by "spiritual pursuit" is often limited to knowledge, art, or morality — none of these is ultimate. Knowledge or art alone cannot change a person's character, let alone the quality of their being. And worldly morality is limited as well: what is moral toward one group of people may be immoral toward another; what is moral by human standards may be immoral toward animals. Only a moral pursuit founded on the Buddhadharma benefits both self and others, both now and the future.

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###### (3) Realizing Life's Meaning

What is life? For most people, it is nothing more than survival, earning money, building a career and a family. Yet all of these are temporary, and their meaning is limited. No matter how much money, how high a station, how much fanfare — how many years can we hold on to any of it? When impermanence arrives, we can carry nothing with us. Even if, like the emperors of old, we build lavish tombs and fill them with countless treasures — what do they take with them? All their scheming, and it comes to nothing.

Only by standing at the height of the Buddhadharma can we see the boundlessness of life — see the saṃsāra behind this one lifetime, see the vast ocean beneath this one wave. When we realize that life does not end at death, but holds a boundless future of birth after birth; that on this long journey through saṃsāra, the chance to be born human is fleeting; that although we cannot carry anything tangible with us, we do carry the karma formed by our good and bad deeds — we will no longer be so shortsighted, so impatient for quick results. If life were merely a few decades, and death erased everything we now possess, then life truly would not hold much meaning at all. Only by seeing the connection between this life and the future can we make a truly long-term plan for life and discover its ultimate meaning.

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###### (4) Becoming a Person of Virtue

When we speak of morality, we tend to think of it as a social requirement, a matter of public conduct — something you need to observe only when external constraints bear upon you. We rarely connect it to our individual existence. So when society at large began to champion the liberation of the individual, and the restraints of public opinion and external norms grew weaker, morality was discarded along with them. This has even led to mockery — "How much does a pound of morals go for these days?" — and to the defiant question: "Why should I follow any moral code?" Consequently, bottom lines are breached again and again. In just a few decades, even the once-sacred fields of medicine and education have become fixated on nothing but profit. Where have the angels in white gone? Where are the engineers of the soul?

In the midst of this chaos, everyone suffers. We don't know what food is safe to eat, what products aren't counterfeit, whether the building we live in is shoddy construction. We are always condemning unscrupulous merchants and lamenting the decline of moral standards — yet in truth, all of this is the ripening of collective karma, born from our collective trampling of morality.

Morality is not only an external constraint; it is also nourishment for life itself. When we practice morality, we ourselves are the foremost beneficiaries. The Buddhist view of cause and effect tells us: good actions bring joyful results, bad actions bring painful results. Moral conduct, on the one hand, benefits others; on the other hand, it builds positive accumulations within us, elevating our lives. Conversely, immoral conduct builds negative accumulations, degrading our lives. If we wish to have a healthy state of mind, a sound character, and a bright future, we must follow the moral path. For a Buddhist disciple who clearly understands cause and effect, following a moral path is spontaneous behavior. Even with no external constraints whatsoever, he knows clearly: every word and deed, even every thought — once it arises, it generates a force. When he consciously abides by morality, even before any external result appears, this act immediately generates a positive inner power that makes a person more compassionate, gentle, and accommodating. When someone embodies these qualities, they are inevitably joyful and at peace.

This is life's own "reward mechanism" — a return that comes without being sought. When people taste the benefit, what reason remains not to follow morality? Beyond Buddhism, some parts of the world establish their moral norms through Christianity, others through Islam. Without faith, if we rely merely on some "ism" to manage the masses or on mutual restraint through reason, not only is it hard to implement, but it will also breed a crop of duplicitous hypocrites. Because they don't realize this is for their own benefit, they think they are just putting on a show for others — hence all the posturing and even cheating. So we can say: only morality built on a faith foundation can be followed consciously. For it springs from one's own need, not from external demands or the demands of others.

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###### (5) Cultivating Compassionate Love

In recent years, charitable acts like donations and educational sponsorships have become increasingly common — something we can rejoice in. But does every act of giving embody the spirit of true charity? Or to put it another way: while such acts help others, do they also elevate the giver's own heart? This requires us to examine the motivation behind the giving. Some give from a sincere wish to help others, but some give on a momentary impulse; some give for certain reasons or even under public pressure; and some give in ways that benefit society yet harm others at the same time.

What is the spirit of charity? It mainly encompasses two aspects. One is not harming others — what Confucius described as "Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire." The other is benefiting others — giving them the help they need. The cultivation of this spirit cannot be separated from religious faith and traditional culture: Christianity advocates universal love, Confucianism promotes benevolent love, and Buddhism teaches compassion. Only when you accept this faith and cultural inheritance from the heart will you be willing to serve the welfare of all.

Otherwise, human beings are naturally self-centered. Why should we think of others? What do they have to do with us? Modern educational culture, along with changes in how we live and consume — especially the intrusion of the virtual world — are steadily distancing people from one another. When food and daily necessities are all delivered to our doorstep by courier, it is easy to forget the countless people whose diligent work stands behind it all; it is easy to forget that our lives are in fact inseparable from all living beings. In such an environment, how do we understand the relationship between ourselves and others? Why should we set aside our own interests for others? Why give of ourselves to sentient beings?

The Buddhadharma tells us: self-attachment is the door to decline; benefiting others is the root of merit. All human afflictions arise from self-attachment. If you are always thinking of yourself, others all become potential enemies — as if at any moment they might deceive you or encroach on your interests. In this way, you only make enemies everywhere and live in a state of perpetual anxiety about gains and losses. Not to mention the effect on your quality of life — is there even any happiness left to speak of?

Conversely, a person who always thinks of benefiting others has no opportunity to be troubled on their own account. Since they already intend to serve others, what is there to be deceived or encroached upon? Someone may ask: don't many people who do good deeds agonize over being misunderstood? Such situations occur precisely because there is still a "self" involved. For example, hoping for social recognition, or hoping the recipients will show gratitude, or hoping to find a sense of moral superiority, or merely hoping that the good deed goes exactly as planned. But wherever there is expectation, there is the disappointment of that expectation going unmet. Without these expectations — just do it; there is nothing worth agonizing over.

The benefiting of others taught in Buddhism is "selfless beneficence," the most ultimate and complete form of altruism. What needs clarifying is that this "selfless" means not calculating for oneself, but it does not negate the rewards that follow. In the very process, your compassion is growing, your love is growing — this is the finest reward. The *Diamond Sutra* also says that if a bodhisattva gives without attachment to appearances, their merit is inconceivable. As for other outcomes, they are merely by-products of the charitable act.

In sum, establishing faith is profoundly meaningful for every person. This is especially true of Buddhist faith, which can not only resolve the eternal questions of life's purpose and meaning, but also make us people of virtue and love — something that benefits us from this present moment through the farthest reaches of time to come.

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## IV. Protecting Faith

Going for refuge to the Three Jewels is only the first step in entering the Buddha's gate. The crucial thing is to let this faith become the guiding force in our life, continuously leading us forward. Not to stop right inside the gate and go no further, or to lose our direction partway through, or even to step back outside. There is a well-known saying: "Study the Dharma one year, the Buddha is right before your eyes; two years, the Buddha is in the temple hall; three years, the Buddha is in the Western Paradise." Why does this happen? Why is it that even after we have taken refuge, our hearts still drift helplessly, not feeling that we have found a home? It is because after taking refuge, we have not guarded our faith. Over time, lacking support, this faith becomes barely perceptible — there yet not there. Like a seed that has been sown: without further care, it gradually withers and may even die.

How do we protect it? To begin, we must understand how the mind works. On this subject, the Yogācāra school of Buddhism provides the most detailed account. Yogācāra classifies mental phenomena into eight consciousnesses. Among them, the eighth — the ālaya consciousness, also rendered as the "store consciousness" — is like life's storage chamber, preserving all the information of our existence from beginningless time. Every action of body, speech, and mind — everything we do, say, and think each day — the moment it occurs, it generates a force in the mind, called a "seed." This process is described as "current actions perfume seeds." Then, when these seeds encounter external conditions, they rise from the subconscious into the conscious mind and produce activity — this is "seeds producing current actions." Seeds and actions influence each other: on one hand, seeds trigger actions; on the other hand, actions in turn perfume new seeds.

These seeds represent the various forces within our mental world. Though infinitely diverse, they boil down to two types: defiled and pure. Buddhism holds that the mind arises through dependent origination; it is constituted by a multitude of causes and conditions, which give rise to its activities and determine the direction life continues in. Among these causes and conditions, seeds are the most critical. Defiled seeds perpetuate the continuity of saṃsāra, while pure seeds lead toward awakening and liberation.

Studying the Buddhadharma is precisely sowing pure seeds in the mind. From beginningless time, we have already sown countless defiled seeds. These seeds have long since taken charge and become the dominant force, making us more and more accustomed to greed, more and more prone to aversion, more and more governed by delusion. Are we satisfied with this current continuum of life? Through studying the Buddha's teaching, we can see that this state of being is a dead end — it will bring us endless suffering and trouble.

How can we change the situation? We must embrace the culture of wisdom and cultivate seeds of awakening. Although we have recognized the importance of doing so, at present, the power of the pure seeds is still negligible. What we must do is focus our energies on nurturing these seeds. It is like planting flowers in a field overgrown with weeds: first clear the weeds and improve the soil, then sow, water, and fertilize. Of course, weeds are not so easy to get rid of entirely. So while we are still learning to distinguish weeds from flower sprouts, we should channel all available resources into what we want to cultivate, and stop feeding the weeds. When these flowers gradually grow and spread, the weeds will have no room to thrive. Protecting the mind after taking refuge follows the same principle.

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###### 1. Guarding the Refuge Essence

For disciples who have taken refuge, the Buddha established a series of precepts, telling us what should be done and what must not be done, so that the refuge essence can be strengthened. These include the precepts of abstention, the precepts of practice, and the general precepts.

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###### (1) The Precepts of Abstention

First are the precepts of abstention. Having taken refuge in the Three Jewels — Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha — we must no longer take refuge in the founders, scriptures, or clergy of other religions. This is what we vowed during the refuge ceremony: "I go for refuge to the Buddha — the Tathāgata, supreme and perfectly awakened, is the one I venerate; I shall never go for refuge to misguided teachers or unorthodox paths. I go for refuge to the Dharma — the Three Baskets and the twelve divisions of the canon are my honored teaching; I shall never go for refuge to the scriptures of other paths. I go for refuge to the Sangha — the pure monastic community is my honored community; I shall never go for refuge to misguided groups or unorthodox assemblies."

It is important to note that abstention does not mean opposing or criticizing others. In fact, we should respect all proper, wholesome traditional religions, because they, too, have their own karmic conditions for teaching and transformation, and they, too, exhort people to do good. But as Buddhist disciples, we must know where our own focus lies. Different religions represent different directions for life. If we grant them equal standing in our hearts, when we face a choice, which way would we turn? Abstention, then, means not taking other religions as our ultimate support — taking only the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha as our spiritual home, and regarding the journey toward awakening as our goal of practice. Through recollecting and emulating the Three Jewels, we fulfill the wisdom and compassion of the buddhas and bodhisattvas.

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###### (2) The Precepts of Practice

Second are the precepts of practice: revering the Buddha, revering the Dharma, and revering the Sangha. By paying homage to Buddha images, we emulate the worthy and aspire to equal them, recollecting the buddhas' and bodhisattvas' great compassion, great wisdom, great liberation, and great freedom. These phrases sound familiar to us all, but we may also find them bland and abstract, devoid of any moving power. That is because we have little firsthand recognition of these qualities; we only hear them as concepts, and as concepts unrelated to ourselves. The feeling is like being close yet worlds apart — right before your eyes, always heard about, always seen, yet so very distant.

If you are making a genuine effort along this path, you will come to know the true weight of these qualities and feel boundless admiration for such a character. It is like studying a certain field and holding the top experts in that field in the highest esteem; or practicing a sport and looking up to the world champion with heartfelt admiration. For others, however — particularly those who have little knowledge of or interest in that field — it is hard to feel the same reverence you do. In this sense, how much yearning you hold for these qualities reflects how much you understand the meaning of the Three Jewels and how much joyful aspiration you bring to the practice.

Revering the Buddha is establishing a model in the heart, taking it as the goal of our practice, and vowing to become like the buddhas and bodhisattvas. From the Buddhist perspective, we all possess the same inherent potential as the buddhas and bodhisattvas; we can all become awakened ones just like them. So revering the Buddha is not just about bowing to statues, burning incense, or offering water — more crucially, it is about boundless admiration for the Buddha's noble character, emulating the worthy and aspiring to equal them. When we have this recognition, the Three Jewels will outweigh everything else in our hearts. There is a saying: "The power of a role model is boundless." Think about it — in the worldly endeavors we invest the most effort in, whether study or career, earning money or seeking fame, which one is not driven by seeing a role model and being drawn and inspired by that model? If from the depths of our heart we yearn for the qualities of the Buddha and take him as our sole model, could the five sensual pleasures and six sense objects still distract us? Would we still waver on the Buddhist path?

Revering the Dharma means taking the Buddhadharma as the compass for our practice and for our very lives. Why is the Dharma so important? Often, we may read some Dharma texts — but only casually. We may agree that Dharma wisdom is complete and perfect — but only in words. That is because we have not yet realized the Dharma's vital significance for life. If we see ourselves as gravely ill patients caught in saṃsāra and confirm that the Dharma is the one and only effective remedy — not a casual beverage or health supplement — we will then develop an urgent thirst for the Dharma. If, in our lifelong search, we have deeply reflected on the perennial questions of human existence, and have found that no religion, culture, or philosophy can resolve them, only to discover the answers within the Buddhadharma, we will then develop a powerful heart of refuge in the Dharma.

Revering the Sangha means aspiring toward the tranquility, transcendence, and liberation embodied by the noble Sangha. As the abiding Three Jewels, the Sangha jewel is the symbol of the true Dharma's presence in the world and the principal force in perpetuating the Buddha's wisdom — hence it is called the teacher of humans and gods. Without the Sangha jewel's presence and propagation, Buddhism would have no transmission in the world. Once we recognize what the Buddha and the Dharma mean for life, and the role the Sangha jewel plays in Dharma practice, we will naturally develop a heart of refuge in the Sangha, particularly in the noble Sangha and spiritual teachers.

In sum, revering the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha is not merely a matter of formal homage and offerings — not just lighting a stick of incense or offering a few fruits. It means truly recognizing their weight and showing reverence from the depths of the heart. It is not that the Three Jewels need our reverence, but that *we* need this reverence so that the noble character of the Buddha and the truth of the Buddhadharma can take root in our hearts and become the guiding force in our lives.

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###### (3) The General Precepts

In addition to the precepts of abstention and practice, there are also the general precepts. These include continually recollecting the qualities of the Three Jewels, continually recollecting the great kindness of the Three Jewels, continually recollecting great compassion, referring all matters to the Three Jewels, and never abandoning the refuge essence. The details can be found in *A Handbook for Refuge Practice*.

As I said earlier: "The power of a role model is boundless." The reason it has power is that it ceaselessly calls to us and spurs us to draw near to this goal. We should all have some experience of this in life: when we admire someone and resolve to become like them, this becomes a powerful drive. So why do we always feel that the model of the buddhas and bodhisattvas is somehow remote and unreachable? Or why can we not convert this into a direct, motivating force? Primarily because we are not yet clear about the qualities of the Three Jewels, nor about how to actualize such qualities ourselves. Without this clarity, they cannot translate into an authentic, heartfelt yearning.

Therefore, we must fully recognize the qualities of the Three Jewels and their vital importance for transforming our lives. This process of reflection is analytical meditation. Through repeated analytical meditation, we gradually build confidence in the Three Jewels, and then settle and abide in that confidence, continually strengthening it — this is placement meditation. From this, we can see that the process of observing the precepts of abstention, the precepts of practice, and the general precepts is precisely what guides us through the analytical meditation and placement meditation that establish our faith.

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###### 2. Practicing the Three Refuges

To strengthen the place of the Three Jewels in the heart, we also need to establish a daily practice of refuge cultivation. For this purpose, I compiled *The Liturgy for Group Refuge Practice*, which includes a complete sequence of generating aspiration, repentance, offerings, analytical meditation, placement meditation, making vows, and dedication of merit. It is like the seeds we sow in a field — we must regularly loosen the soil, water, and fertilize them, so they receive nourishment. Otherwise, the seeds will be unable to germinate due to lack of nutrients, and may even wither away.

This same problem arises in the establishment of faith. After taking refuge, many people don't know how to protect it, and apart from an additional refuge certificate, there is hardly any difference from before. If we have not understood the meaning of the Three Jewels, have not received the refuge essence, have not taken the Three Jewels as our ultimate support and the fulfillment of the Three Jewels' qualities as the goal of our practice — what, then, can that refuge certificate prove? Like an expired, invalid admission ticket, it proves nothing beyond showing that you attended that particular ceremony.

Therefore, after taking refuge, we must practice daily. While receiving the blessings of the Three Jewels, the regular, measured reinforcement helps the mind move toward stability. In today's world, with its flood of information, its myriad temptations, the human mind is especially restless. Such a restless mind is like a receiving station with an unstable signal — it simply cannot resonate with the qualities of the Three Jewels. Through cultivating the daily practice, we can settle the mind, quiet discursive thought, and thereby accumulate merit and purify obstacles. Accumulating merit means gathering the provisions for the bodhi path; purifying obstacles means clearing the obstructions on the path of practice. It is like the *Journey to the West*, where the monk Tang Sanzang (Tripitaka) had to pass through eighty-one ordeals to obtain the scriptures — practice is likewise a continuous process of overcoming obstacles. In truth, all outer demons are manifestations of our own mind. Yet this same mind is also endowed with the intrinsic Three Jewels — the key is which channel we tune in to.

For protecting faith, we must, on the one hand, observe the precepts and, on the other hand, cultivate the practice of refuge. The Chan school speaks of "nourishing the sacred embryo," meaning that after seeing the Way, one must still nurture it. The same holds true for refuge. Even if the aspiration was correct, the ceremony proper, and the refuge essence genuinely received, this is still only the first step. Going forward, we must continue to care for it and nourish it, so that it can grow and flourish, and ultimately become the dominant force in our hearts.

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## V. Growing Faith

We may have taken refuge and started practicing — but are we truly walking the bodhi path? In the course of practice, have our confusion and afflictions diminished? At the same time, have our wisdom, compassion, and confidence grown? These are vital measures for evaluating whether we are practicing correctly and whether our practice is bearing fruit.

When we ask whether we are walking the bodhi path, some may feel at a loss: what exactly is the bodhi path? How should one walk this path? Where is the starting point, where is the destination, and how many way stations lie along the journey? I believe that to learn the Buddhadharma well, three things are essential: a clear goal, correct methods, and a graduated sequence. This is true not only of Buddhist practice — any endeavor in this world, to be done well, cannot be separated from these three elements.

The goal is the result — what outcome this undertaking can actually achieve, where the endpoint lies. The method is the means — what approaches to use to reach that outcome. The sequence is the process — the order of steps for doing something well, and the results to be expected at each stage. We all know that the ultimate aim of Buddhist practice is to attain buddhahood, yet we also feel that this lies countless eons away, as if nothing visible can be achieved right now. In fact, this is not the case. Although the goal of buddhahood is distant, in effective practice, each stage — even each day — brings corresponding progress, steadily bringing us closer to the destination.

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###### 1. Graduated Practice

When the Three-Stage Practice was first established, we proposed "four ones": one goal — liberation; one map — the stages of the path; one teacher — a spiritual guide who leads our practice; one group of companions — fellow practitioners on the same path. These are all indispensable elements for learning the Buddhadharma well. Of these, the first three constitute effective guidance, while the fourth creates a supportive environment.

A correct method of practice is the foundation and engine of faith's growth. Many participants in the Three-Stage Practice have seen profound changes after just half a year, one year, or even a few months. Confusion and afflictions diminish; wisdom and compassion increase. This is neither miracle nor advertisement — it genuinely happens to many people. As long as you practice with sincere dedication, with the right attitude and effective methods, change is inevitable. When you personally experience your own transformation and taste its benefits, you naturally develop confidence in the Buddhadharma. Many people, when they first join the program, feel that the eight-year curriculum is far too long and lack the confidence to persevere. After practicing for a while, however, they come to feel that this is something to pursue for all time to come — eight years suddenly seems like nothing at all.

Why is this? Because how much time a person is willing to invest in something depends on how much they value it. When they don't yet understand the profound significance of Buddhist practice for their lives, they feel there are still so many things to do — where would they find the time for this, which can't earn them a diploma or a raise? In their life priorities, Buddhist practice sits at the bottom. Only after work and daily life are fully arranged might they have some interest in joining in. In another scenario, when some worldly problem proves insoluble, they may temporarily raise the Three Jewels to the top of the list — burning incense, paying homage, going vegetarian, releasing lives, practicing quite diligently for a while. But once the crisis passes, the ranking returns to where it was. Ultimately, the issue is that they still don't recognize the meaning of Buddhist practice.

Once we genuinely recognize the value of practice, we come to feel that it is worth pursuing not just for this entire life, but for all lives to come. What does it mean to truly recognize its value? Consider how, in the secular world, scientists, writers, artists, or people with a deep passion will often lose themselves in their work or interest — forgetting food and sleep, their clothes growing loose, yet never regretting it. Do we bring this same spirit to our Buddhist practice? Are we willing to invest ourselves this deeply? If we cannot, it shows our recognition is not yet complete, our goal not yet firm. We have not even matched the effort people give to worldly pursuits — let alone being able to practice what is hard to practice and endure what is hard to endure.

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###### (1) Common Pitfalls

Once the goal is clear, we still need correct methods and graduated practice. In the Buddhist community today, aside from ordinary devotees who only supplicate and revere, equating Buddhism with folk religion, even those who earnestly wish to learn the Buddha's path often study in utter disorder, for lack of guidance. Some aim too high, delighting in weighty sutras and treatises, discoursing on the profound and wondrous, feeling quite pleased with themselves. Others dabble everywhere, sampling many Dharma doors and visiting many centers — but what is the result? If their learning capacity is limited, they only skim the surface, catching scattered words and phrases. Even if their learning capacity is strong, they often only pick up the terminology and concepts. They may appear broadly knowledgeable, yet prove utterly useless in practice. In truth, the real value of the Buddhadharma is to establish right view, and then apply it in daily life to adjust our mindset and reshape the quality of our being. If it cannot serve this function, no matter how many sutras and treatises one has read, one is merely an intellectual disciple — what difference is there from worldly reading and scholarship?

Moreover, Chinese Buddhism belongs to the Mahāyāna tradition, yet the teaching of bodhicitta is generally taken too lightly, failing to properly manifest the active, altruistic spirit of the Bodhisattva path. Many people eagerly receive the bodhisattva precepts, yet neglect bodhicitta and the compassionate spirit of benefiting others — the result being bodhisattvas in name only. We must understand that Bodhisattva-path practice follows a sequence: it must begin by arousing aspiring bodhicitta, then progress to engaged bodhicitta, and finally be sublimated into ultimate bodhicitta. Without a step-by-step process of realization, arousing bodhicitta may easily become empty talk — even mockery.

Another pitfall is the penchant for simplicity, the constant expectation of "pointing directly at the human mind and seeing one's nature to attain buddhahood." Yet sudden awakening not only requires a master of clear insight to guide, but on the practitioner's side, one must be of the highest capacity with extremely subtle defilements to be able, at a crucial moment, to see one's nature under a spiritual teacher's guidance. If the capacity is insufficient yet one seeks shortcuts and shortcuts alone, neglecting the doctrinal foundation, Chan practice easily degenerates into wordplay. It sounds very impressive when spoken aloud, but in reality, one is merely voicing seemingly "awakened" words from within the deluded system. Besides entertaining oneself, one is also deceiving oneself.

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###### (2) Remedies

Buddhism has many schools, and different schools represent different practice systems with different guiding principles. They are like different routes leading to the same destination: each route has different terrain and requires different methods of travel. A mountain path has its own way to be traveled; a water route has its own way; a land route has its own way. If you mix them up — like carrying a boat on your back to climb a mountain — not only is it useless, it adds a cumbersome burden. This is why so many people find that the more they study, the less they feel; in the end, they grow numb, or even develop a taste for fame and gain. This is quite normal, actually: if one cannot benefit from the Dharma and cannot walk the path of liberation, one naturally reverts to the paths of saṃsāra, chasing fame and profit.

Many people come to the Dharma with a heap of life problems, and after studying, not only do the life problems remain unsolved, but they have added a whole new heap of "Dharma-study problems." This is something I frequently encounter in my teaching. When some people come to see me, they fire off one question, then another, seemingly reflecting on how to practice — but in truth, there is no coherence whatsoever. Even if I answer these questions, besides adding a little knowledge or providing an explanation, there is not much practical benefit. For such cases, I now have only one reply: enter the Three-Stage Practice, and all these problems will cease to be problems.

The Three-Stage Practice consists of three stages: the Collective Joy Course, the Collective Practice Course, and the Collective Virtue Course. It is the result of years of teaching experience, gradually developed and refined through practice. The Collective Joy Course starts mainly from the perspective of Buddhism for Human Life, clearing away misconceptions about Buddhism; then, through courses such as *Approaching the Buddha, Understanding the Dharma* and *A Handbook for Refuge Practice*, it guides students to understand the Buddha's renunciation and path of practice, thereby establishing faith in the Three Jewels. This one-year stage is "founded on Buddhism for Human Life, centered on building faith."

Next is the four-and-a-half-year Collective Practice Course, "founded on the graduated path, centered on the practice of bodhicitta." The former mainly guides us to understand the framework of the path and the various stations along the bodhi path — including the preliminary foundation, and the paths of the three scopes (persons of small, middling, and great capacity). It begins with cultivating the proper attitude for listening to the Dharma, understanding the importance of spiritual teachers and the precious human existence, and clearly establishing the Three Jewels as our home. Then it arranges the study and practice content around renunciation, bodhicitta, and the view of emptiness. Each section has its own focal points of practice, methods of implementation, and standards of verification — systematically completing the psychological guidance of the Bodhisattva path. After mastering the stages of the path, through the study of the *Bodhicaryāvatāra* and the Bodhisattva Precepts chapter of the *Yogācārabhūmi*, students learn how to arouse bodhicitta and walk the Bodhisattva path, truly stepping onto the path. All of this is designed around the transformation of the mind. Yet the mind is complex and subtle — it can deceive not only others but also itself. To more clearly understand the mechanisms of mental functioning and the principles of transformation, this stage also includes the study of the *Mahāyāna-śatadharma-prakāśa-mukha-śāstra*.

The Collective Virtue Course lasts three years, "founded on the view of emptiness, centered on śamatha-vipaśyanā meditation." Through studying texts such as the *Madhyānta-vibhāga*, the *Triṃśikā*, the *Heart Sutra*, the *Diamond Sutra*, and the *Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch*, students establish the view of emptiness according to the Yogācāra system, the Prajñāpāramitā system, or the Chan perspective, and complete emptiness meditation under the guidance of the relevant sutras and treatises.

In sum, every stage of the practice is clearly sequenced and progressively deepened. Without this sequence, one either keeps using the elementary textbook, spending ten years and still at the elementary level, or jumps straight to the university textbook — the starting point too high, with no way to begin. Through graduated study, we can see our own growth step by step, allowing faith to steadily deepen. Along the way, we will definitely feel confusion and afflictions diminishing and the power of compassion and awakening growing stronger. Practice, then, is not something whose results are known only after many years, or only after death. With graduated practice, the practitioner should be very clear about the results at each stage. Because we not only know what to do, but also know how much to do and what standard to reach.

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###### 2. Effective Practice

Beyond graduation, effective practice is crucial. Ineffective practice ceaselessly generates problems that are never fully resolved. Effective practice, in its graduated deepening, endows us with the very capacity to solve problems. It is like a good system — capable of self-improvement, self-optimization. Otherwise, you are forever solving problems while simultaneously creating new ones, with no end in sight.

People often say: "Isn't it just 'impermanence'? Isn't it just 'dependent origination'? I've already studied that, I already know it — can we learn something deeper?" Now, what does it mean to have "studied" something? Is studying the goal? How far must one study for it to be considered complete? This is a question of standards. The reason many people's practice is weak and they cannot apply the Dharma is precisely because they remain stuck at the conceptual level, at the level of half-knowing, superficial, and ambiguous understanding. To prevent this in students' practice, we have developed an effective practice mechanism.

First is self-study: engage with the current period's Dharma teachings at least three times or more. The ancients said, "Read a book a hundred times, and its meaning reveals itself." If this is true even of worldly books, how much more so for the Buddhadharma, which embodies the great wisdom of the universe and human life — it must be read and contemplated repeatedly for deep understanding. Take the *Diamond Sutra*, for example: over five thousand words, none of which are difficult — an ordinary level of literacy is enough. But do you know the meaning it conveys? Or the *Heart Sutra*: of its brief two hundred-plus characters, "emptiness," "no," and "not" alone account for several dozen — it seems especially simple, yet it contains the profound wisdom of prajñā. How do we master these Dharma teachings? How far must we go before we can consider it done? This is a matter of great learning.

So self-study requires not only enough repetitions but also a methodology — that is the "eight steps and three types of meditation." This tells us exactly which steps to follow in study, what the verification standard is for each stage, and how to connect the teachings with real life to change our original views and states of mind. Buddhist practice is about fulfilling the qualities of the buddhas and bodhisattvas. Such learning does not stay at the conceptual level; it is not enough merely to understand the principles. For example, studying cause and effect helps us see the world from the perspective of dependent origination; studying impermanence is to make impermanence our own outlook on life and worldview, no longer clinging to a permanent self or permanent objects in the world.

If our learning remains at the level of knowing the terms and concepts, we have merely added some Buddhist knowledge. This is precisely why so many people say, "I understand the principles, I just can't apply them." Because this so-called "understanding" is only superficial knowing. The principles are still in the book; you have merely seen them, but they have not become your own. When you face situations, you still operate in your habitual channel, processing things with your old habits of mind. Even if you want to use the Buddhadharma, you find you are only holding a rubber check — one that cannot be cashed. Only through reflection, especially reflection combined with real-life experience, can we turn the Dharma teachings in books into our own understanding, into wealth we can actually use and deploy.

The same is true for the study of renunciation and bodhicitta. According to our old study habits, we only need to look up a few books and we will know what these terms mean — we can even explain them eloquently to others. The question is: can this produce any effect in our mental continuum? Studying renunciation is not merely knowing the concept of renunciation; it is generating renunciation in the heart — truly being free of attachment to the five sensual pleasures and six sense objects. For renunciation is not renouncing the environment; it is renouncing craving and clinging. The same holds for bodhicitta. How do we bring forth bodhicitta? We must begin with aspiring bodhicitta — generating from the heart the noble wish, "I will benefit all sentient beings," and then making this wish the mission of all our future lives. After the wish is there, we must also, in the midst of real life, benefit others through all kinds of means, helping sentient beings leave suffering, attain happiness, and move toward awakening — this is engaged bodhicitta. Yet both aspiring bodhicitta and engaged bodhicitta belong to conventional bodhicitta. Finally, through the view of emptiness, bodhicitta must be elevated to become ultimate bodhicitta.

In the Three-Stage Practice, the process from accepting a principle to genuinely transforming it into our own mental state is divided into eight steps. Among them, the first and second steps involve studying the Dharma teachings — the most foundational part. The third step is to reflect by connecting the teachings with questions, so as to understand the Dharma fully, accurately, and thoroughly. Our understanding of the Buddhadharma has two dimensions: one is theoretical understanding, the other is factual understanding. For instance, regarding impermanence, the sutras tell us that everything in the world is impermanent and ever-changing. But this understanding of impermanence must be brought back to reality for observation and reflection before it is truly confirmed. The Dharma says, "All conditioned phenomena are impermanent" — then we must go and test this: in this conditioned, contaminated, dependently arisen world, is there anything that is *not* impermanent? If you can find one thing that is not, then this teaching has a problem — don't accept it lightly. If, after a thorough observation of reality, you find that all things are indeed impermanent, then you must firmly establish this understanding in your mind (the fourth step). It is just like going for refuge to the Three Jewels, as we discussed earlier. The Buddhadharma clarifies the teachings of "why to take refuge, how to take refuge," and so on — but we must still accept them through our own reflection before we can establish faith in the Three Jewels within our hearts. This is the meditation on view.

When through practice we have established an understanding of dependent origination, impermanence, and no-self, we must also apply this understanding. Thus, the fifth and sixth steps are about re-examining the world, reflecting on life, and handling problems from the Dharma perspective, thereby changing our habitual views and establishing correct understanding. Going further, we step out of the negative mental states created by mistaken views, and under the guidance of Dharma wisdom, establish a wholesome, positive, constructive state of mind and abide in it — completing the meditation on mind.

Finally, the seventh and eighth steps: after establishing a correct state of mind, can it immediately become the dominant force in our lives? In truth, it cannot — because the habitual patterns formed by mistaken mental states are extremely powerful. The character chuàn in chuànxí (habitual pattern) is telling: it depicts things strung together, one after another — thought after thought in continuous succession, like an unbroken thread. Whether mind or conduct, if continuously repeated, it becomes ingrained as mental habit. This habit is adhesive: once it forms, whenever a related mental state appears, even just a sliver of it, the mind is easily sucked in. On the one hand, you find yourself drawn involuntarily into the groove of habit and it starts up on its own; on the other hand, you are simultaneously reinforcing this very habit, making its adhesive pull ever stronger.

The Three-Stage Practice advocates analytical meditation and placement meditation precisely so that, through repeated examination, we can reaffirm the correct views we have already established. For our mistaken views will still, from time to time, exert their influence through the force of habit, even becoming dominant. This requires us to make continuous adjustments, allowing ourselves to abide for longer and longer periods in right view, strengthening our positive mental states.

Practice is a process of "breaking free from error and repeating what is correct." In truth, to do anything in this world well, one cannot do without these eight words. The reason we fail to learn or do well is often because erroneous habits interfere and throw us off course. Look at top athletes — they have only a few movements, and nothing about them seems particularly remarkable. Yet in fact, they must train relentlessly, repeating them millions of times or more, before reaching the pinnacle. The training of the body is like this; the training of the mind is no different.

Why can "breaking free from error and repeating what is correct" actually produce an effect in our lives? Because its theoretical foundation is precisely the teaching of dependent origination. Dependent origination tells us that nothing in this world has a fixed, unchanging nature. In every present moment, there are infinite possibilities — everything can change. By understanding the characteristics and laws of dependent origination, we can, through effective methods, change our erroneous habits and establish correct states of mind. This process can be achieved through training, but not through blind effort — just like physical training, it requires methods and skill.

Through the eight steps and three types of meditation, we can achieve the effect of "understanding, acceptance, and application." Among these, understanding is the foundation, acceptance is the key, and application is the verification. The prerequisite for achieving all this is the correct attitude: "sincerity, earnestness, and honesty" — not being self-righteous, not playing clever tricks, but regarding oneself as a gravely ill patient caught in saṃsāra, and with a genuine, urgent desire for recovery, receiving the treatment of the Dharma. Only in this way can we bring about change in "view, mental state, and the quality of life." When we follow this sequence, every step can be taken on solid ground. It is like traveling from Suzhou to Beijing — every station along the way is clearly marked. In sum, from breakthroughs of mind to the growth of faith, everything depends on a graduated sequence and effective methods.

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## VI. Elevating Faith

The Buddhadharma is ultimate and complete, yet the depth of faith among Buddhists is uneven. During the Sui and Tang dynasties, Chinese Buddhism reached its zenith. One major reason was that many of society's finest minds studied Buddhism and even became monastics at that time. Only with a base of high-caliber followers can there be a high-caliber monastic community, capable of transmitting and propagating a wisdom as vast and profound as the Buddhadharma. This is what it truly means to "perpetuate the Buddha's wisdom-life" — rather than destroying it.

The steady decline of Buddhism since the Song and Yuan dynasties fundamentally stems from the inability to advance in practice. On the one hand, this is because the views of the various schools were set too high or too difficult to begin; on the other hand, it is because the caliber of practitioners generally declined. The Way relies on people to propagate it — and "people" here refers not only to the great masters who teach across the land, but also to every individual Buddhist. For the public more often encounters the Buddhists around them. Their words, deeds, and moral character can easily become the public's first impression of Buddhism. Thus, if the quality of Buddhists' faith does not improve, it will exert a negative rather than positive influence on the propagation of the Buddhadharma, even as it makes the caliber of the faithful steadily deteriorate.

Looking at the present state of the Buddhist community, although some monasteries are carrying out Dharma-teaching activities, and major business schools are offering Buddhist courses, with more and more high-caliber young people entering the Buddha's gate, their number relative to the entire body of the faithful is still minuscule. It can be said that the present caliber of the Buddhist faithful is worlds apart from the content this wisdom tradition carries. So how can we change this situation and elevate the faith of the general public? This mainly involves two dimensions: foundation and method. With a foundation, elevation becomes possible; with methods, elevation can be truly realized.

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###### 1. The Foundation for Elevation

Speaking of foundation, it depends on two factors: one is the height of the object of faith, and the other is our own life aspirations.

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###### (1) The Object of Faith

Whether faith can be elevated depends first on the height of the object of faith. If a building has only three stories, no matter how hard you try, you can only reach the third floor — the room for elevation is very limited. If the building soars beyond sight, then as long as you have the ability and methods, the room for elevation is limitless. Thus, the choice of faith's object is extremely important. Take believing in a wealth deity, for example — besides making offerings, supplicating, and thinking of how to curry favor, what else can you do? Whether you believe like this or someone else does, it is the same; whether you have believed for one year or several decades, it is still the same.

With faith in the Buddhadharma, however, from blind faith to wise faith, from initial faith to deep faith, from faith to practice, from the entry point of taking refuge in the Three Jewels to the final actualization of those very qualities within oneself — the depth of faith continually deepens with practice. Often, the more we study, the more we feel the vast, boundless nature of the Buddhadharma. As your vision rises, the Buddhadharma continually unfolds its vast, limitless side, soaring beyond sight. For what the Buddha reveals is the essence of mind, the essence of the universe — and beyond that, he also clarifies the distinctions among all phenomena. There is no wisdom in the world that can compare. Some may feel this is merely the self-praise of Buddhists. If so, let us, through understanding other religions, philosophies, sciences, and other fields, make comparisons along the journey and confirm it for ourselves.

In today's age of internet accessibility, although the deluge of information brings many distractions, it also gives us a broad field of vision. I have experienced this myself. Influenced by my family, I began studying Buddhism and became a monastic at a young age, and thereafter grew up entirely within Buddhist academies. Though I always felt the Buddhadharma spoke soundly, this sense of "soundness" was only because I had accepted this education from the start — a default-mode approval that was never, in fact, very deeply felt. It was only after I embarked on the path of Dharma teaching, interacting with people from all walks of life and gaining understanding of different disciplines, that I came to recognize more and more: the Buddhadharma is truly the ultimate, perfect, and complete great wisdom.

Therefore, I feel that although faith itself emphasizes single-minded devotion, in order to elevate faith comprehensively, we can broaden our perspective somewhat. Of course, some people have already received considerable education in society and chose Buddhism after comparison — they can dive deeply into the sutras and treatises without spending time on scattered explorations. Furthermore, it is best not to engage too much with other religions or disciplines in the early stages of faith. Comparison and selection require a certain capacity; if one's faith is not yet stable, and one still does not really know what the Buddhadharma is about, it is easy to be led astray by seemingly plausible views.

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###### (2) Life Aspirations

Additionally, our life aspirations determine the height of our faith. If our life aspirations are limited to food and sex, promotion and wealth, then our spiritual aspirations will inevitably revolve around these very things — simply treating the buddhas and bodhisattvas as protective deities, praying and supplicating. What difference is there, then, between believing in the Buddha and believing in the god of wealth or the local earth deity? So we must elevate our life aspirations before we can elevate our faith.

How, then, can we elevate our life aspirations? First, through deep reflection on life. For example: why do we live? What is the origin of life, and what is its ultimate destination? If living is only about survival and procreation, what distinguishes us from animals? As the most spiritually endowed of all beings, how can our lives be elevated? What is the unique pursuit worthy of a human birth?

When we transcend the concerns of daily living and examine life from a higher vantage point, we will discover that if we cannot find life's value, living truly holds little meaning — it is merely a repetition that goes in circles day after day. Living to eat, eating to live. Or living to work, working to live. Or living to seek pleasure, seeking pleasure to live. In every case, it is a closed loop without exit or hope — I call it low-level repetition, because it is an animalistic repetition. If we do not wish to waste this one life within such a closed loop, we must search for the highest value of human life and strive in that direction.

Second, through the study of various cultures. Every individual is limited. Often, we do not feel there is any problem simply because we have not yet begun to think, or our thinking lacks depth and has yet to become a real question. And it is only by discovering problems that we can resolve them — which is why Chan says, "Great doubt, great awakening; small doubt, small awakening; no doubt, no awakening." Through understanding philosophy, science, or other religions, we can, on the one hand, stimulate our thinking about the ultimate questions from different angles; and on the other hand, through broad exposure, come to recognize the heights of the Buddhadharma.

For example, the Buddhadharma tells us to find the meaning of life. If you have no firsthand experience of this, it may sound weightless to your ears, even like a cliché. But once you learn that in this world, so many artists, philosophers, and successful people from every field — precisely because they could not find life's meaning — chose to end their lives at the height of their achievements, you will realize that this is not a trivial phrase but the most vital question of human existence. They were trapped by this question not because they weren't intelligent enough, but because, after reaching the pinnacle of their field, they still could not find the answer. The reason we are not similarly trapped is not that we have found the answer, but that we have not yet recognized how critical the question is. Only once we begin to reflect on these questions will we know just how important the Buddhadharma is — for the answers are all found within it.

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###### 2. The Methods for Elevation

Many people begin believing in the Buddha out of a wish for safety and well-being in this life. There is nothing wrong with this, but if one stays forever at this level, it is like guarding one's family treasure yet spending each day as a beggar — truly a loss. So how can this faith be elevated?

Going for refuge means we have chosen Buddhism as our faith. How much do we understand this choice? How much do we know about the object of our faith? As I said earlier, if we do not recognize the meaning of the Three Jewels or the significance of refuge for life, and merely take refuge due to various incidental causes, one could say we have not yet truly entered the Buddha's gate. Even if the preliminaries and main practice were properly fulfilled, taking refuge is not a once-and-done affair. Faith itself is a phenomenon of dependent origination — it must be continually nourished and strengthened; otherwise, it gradually becomes marginalized in our mental continuum, barely there. This requires deepening through practice. As Buddhists, how should we elevate our faith?

The graduated sequence of Buddhist practice includes the Human and Deva Vehicle, the path of liberation, and the Bodhisattva path. This is also the sequence for elevating faith.

First, on the basis of understanding cause and effect through dependent origination, establish the faith of the Human and Deva Vehicle. Although we now possess a human body and have encountered the Buddhadharma, the path of saṃsāra is treacherous — one careless misstep and we create karma that leads to downfall. The practice of the Human and Deva Vehicle both values our present human life and recognizes the great significance of a precious human existence. Through mindfulness of death and impermanence, and mindfulness of the sufferings of the three lower realms, we genuinely give rise to faith in the Three Jewels. This human body we now possess lasts but a few decades. When death arrives, apart from the Three Jewels, nothing can be relied upon. Can loved ones accompany you on this journey? Can power and wealth secure your rebirth in a wholesome realm? Should you fall into the lower realms, you will suffer for eons. Thus, we must not only seek safety in this life but also preserve such blessings for the future — not for the sake of indulgence, but to obtain a body that allows continued practice. Therefore, on the basis of sincere refuge, we must also uphold the five precepts, cease wrong and do good, and continually accumulate provisions for the path.

Second, recognizing that saṃsāra is suffering by nature, establish the faith of the path of liberation. Although we now possess a human body, as long as our minds harbor confusion and afflictions, no amount of pleasure or superior material comfort can resolve this suffering. Moreover, we have no autonomy in cycling through the six destinies. In life after life, we have created boundless unwholesome karma — who knows when it will ripen? Even if we are fortunate enough to be born in a wholesome realm, it is precarious at best. The Buddhist texts tell us that the general sufferings of saṃsāra are eight: birth, aging, sickness, death, parting from what we love, meeting what we hate, not getting what we seek, and the blazing of the five aggregates. In addition, there are another six: no certainty, no satisfaction, repeatedly discarding the body, repeatedly taking birth, repeatedly rising and falling, and having no companion. These are sufferings that shadow us everywhere in saṃsāra — they cannot be escaped. Seeing this clearly, we must arouse renunciation, no longer clinging to the splendors of cyclic existence. Through the practice of precepts, concentration, and wisdom, we thoroughly cut off the three poisons of greed, aversion, and delusion. In truth, liberation is the core of all Dharma doors in Buddhism; the Human and Deva Vehicle only serves as a preliminary and skillful means to draw in sentient beings, laying a sound foundation for further practice.

Third, recognizing the sublime nature of bodhicitta, establish the faith of the Mahāyāna Bodhisattva path through the extensive practice of the six perfections. Although we have found the path to liberation, we must see that, throughout the world, countless sentient beings remain deeply mired in confusion and affliction, enduring suffering upon suffering. From this, we recognize that merely seeking personal liberation is not ultimate, and we then give rise to the sublime bodhicitta — taking the pursuit of unsurpassed awakening as our goal and the task of helping all sentient beings move toward awakening as our own mission.

The Human and Deva Vehicle, the Śrāvaka Vehicle, and the Bodhisattva Vehicle are also called the three scopes, representing three levels of Buddhist practice. It is like a three-story building: the Human and Deva Vehicle is the first floor, the Śrāvaka Vehicle is the second, and the Bodhisattva Vehicle is the third. Along the path of practice, some stop at the Human and Deva Vehicle, some choose the Śrāvaka Vehicle, and some proceed into the Bodhisattva Vehicle. How can we break through the limits of faith and continually elevate it in practice? First, we must have a broad vision, rather than gazing at the sky from the bottom of a well. Second, we must elevate the aspirations of our faith, rather than settling for small gains. When we truly understand the wisdom of cause and effect through dependent origination, the sublimity of the path of liberation, and the perfection of the Bodhisattva path, faith will naturally and gradually be elevated.

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## VII. Conclusion

Above, based on the present state of faith in contemporary society and the Buddhist community, I have explored the topic of "how to establish faith" from six angles. First, in response to the misconception that religious faith is optional, I started from what faith actually resolves, analyzing its uniqueness and irreplaceability. Second, in view of the difference between secular faith and religious faith, and between Buddhism and other religions, I explained why we should take Buddhism as our faith. Third, for those who have already embraced Buddhism yet have not been able to make the Buddhadharma truly function in their lives, I revealed the path for anchoring faith in the mind. Fourth, addressing the phenomenon of dwindling faith, I pointed out how to protect faith so that it takes root and sprouts in the heart. Fifth, regarding the pain point of having believed in the Buddha for many years yet seeing no progress and not knowing how to progress, I clarified the practice methods for effectively growing faith. Finally, because both the object of faith and personal aspirations can be limited, trapping many people's faith at a rudimentary stage, I opened up the essential points for elevating faith. These six topics progress layer by layer, from the shallow to the profound. Following this line of thought, I believe everyone can gain a clear understanding of how to choose and practice faith.

This is an age of rampant materialism, and it is also an age that especially needs the Buddhadharma. As the myth of materialism gradually crumbles, more and more people are beginning to turn their attention to the inner life and seek faith. As the saying goes, the Buddhadharma is hard to encounter, and a true spiritual teacher is hard to meet. Today, coming into contact with the Buddhadharma seems to have become quite easy — but without the guidance of a spiritual teacher, what does such contact actually bring? Like a chaotic marketplace, the world of religious faith is also rife with disorder: those who exploit the Buddha's name for profit, those who are counterfeit and inferior, the blind leading the blind, and those who sound plausible but are utterly mistaken — all of these abound. All this adds countless sources of interference to our process of choosing a faith and practicing the Buddhadharma. And this interference is fermenting as information spreads ever more rapidly, becoming unprecedentedly tangled.

In such an environment, a correct understanding of faith is all the more essential. It is the foundation for stepping onto the path of awakening, and the guarantee that we can move forward smoothly in the future. I hope this essay has offered you some inspiration.