Behind The Mask ~ COMPASSION WITHOUT
WISDOM
It is
a common practice, among Buddhists, to buy and liberate
birds, fish, turtles and other living things as an
‘act of merit’. I would like to look briefly
at this custom and its ramifications.
If it is considered good and ‘meritorious’
to release animals and birds, it must, as a corollary,
be considered bad and demeritorious to capture and
sell them in the first place.
Now, without buyers, there are no sellers;
we can sell something only if someone buys it. Therefore,
these creatures—which, in many cases, are just
common sparrows and finches—are captured and
sold to the people who buy them to release. Are not
the buyers therefore responsible for them being caught
in the first place? If no-one bought these birds,
would they be caught like this? Are the buyers not
involved in and responsible for the demeritorious
act of trapping these wild birds and animals?
And to think of making merit from or through
these animals: are we not just using them for our
own ends? Can that be considered meritorious? We should
think clearly about things and not be too hasty in
our desire for merit.
If the welfare of the animals and birds
is the motive for buying and releasing them, why wait
for some time after buying them before freeing them?
Why not release them right outside the shop and give
them that extra period of freedom? Instead, they are
kept for long hours in small cages until a ceremony
is performed of which the birds and animals understand
nothing and couldn’t care less, and in the meantime,
often some die. Who, therefore, are we doing it for—the
birds and animals, or ourselves? If we are using them
for our own gain, then, far from ‘making merit’,
we are making demerit! It is wrong to use others for
our own gain like this.
If we are really concerned about the birds
and animals, we would realize that the people who
buy them are responsible for them being caught in
the first place, and as long as there are people to
buy them, there will be people to catch them. We can
put a stop to the demeritorious action of catching
them to sell for release if we refuse to buy them;
in the long run, this would be the best way of helping
the fish and birds.
When Prince Siddhartha was born, his father
the King called in eight astrologers to predict his
son’s future. After carefully scrutinizing the
marks on the body of the child, seven of them raised
two fingers and said that the child would grow up
to become either a great monarch or an enlightened
spiritual teacher. The eighth seer raised only one
finger, however, and stated that, without doubt, the
baby prince would definitely become a Buddha. We know
that the prince later gave up his life of luxury in
the palace to go out into the forest in search of
truth, and that he finally became enlightened, becoming
known thereafter as the Buddha.
If Prince Siddhartha had remained in the
palace instead of going off into the forest to seek
for truth, he would have been able to help a few people
by ruling wisely and well, helping the poor, raising
the standard of living of his people, and so on, but
his influence would probably not have survived much
longer than he. As it was, by becoming a Buddha, he
was able to help incalculable numbers of people, and
His benign influence continues until today. I am writing
this, for example, because of the Buddha, more than
2,500 years after He passed away.
We must follow things through, and not see
just the immediate results of our actions, but also
their long-term effects. So, before you buy birds
or animals for release, ask yourself why and for whom
you are doing it. Are you really doing it for the
benefit of the animals, or for your own sake?
While I was staying in a Chinese temple
in Melbourne in 1994, some ladies from the RSPCA (Royal
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals)
came there to complain about the practice of buying
birds to release, saying what I have said above: that
a high percentage of birds die in their tiny cages
while waiting for the ceremony to be performed prior
to freeing them. I told them that I was in complete
agreement with them, but that the people in the temple
were so attached to their traditions that they had
refused to listen when I had tried to explain to them,
and had even complained about me complaining, and
told me not to talk about such things if I wanted
to continue staying there. My responsibility, however,
is to what I perceive to be right, and not to tradition
and superstition. Dharma is not—or should not
be—a thing of tradition, something of the past,
fit only for museums, nor should it be something negotiable,
but something of the present, to live by. In this
case, I am on the side of the birds, and will say
what I feel should be said, regardless of what other
people say. |