When I first found out that so called dharma teachers were charging hourly fees to do private interviews, or whatever, I was saddened but simply crossed that first fee for service teacher off my list. Now a founder of Buddhist Geeks--to whom I am a micropatron (though that doesn't add any weight to my complaint)--is setting up a fee for service dharma teaching process. When I wrote this person and griped a bit I was advised that ancient Asian traditions carried no weight in modern society and that there were plenty of teachers "...that I have a great deal of respect for..." that use this model to their satisfaction and the satisfaction of their students.

I may be guilty of clinging to an outdated idea or hanging on to "...antiquarian...traditionalist..." (this person's words to me) procedures. Please tell me what you think.

I don't have much time right now for a proper response at the moment (I'll return later to expand).

But I will say the following. What you are paying for (if pay you must) is the person's time and expertise (if they have demonstrated any to you) to sit down with you and tell it to you like it is, giving you ideas on how to overcome any hangups in your practice or way of approach. That can be valuable in that it saves you time figuring these things out for yourself. It's always better to have someone who you can bounce ideas off of who you trust to tell you the honest truth.

I spent thousands of dollars on a teacher (not Buddhist, but someone who demonstrated to me that he knew what he was talking about) when I first became involved in what I saw at the time as being "spiritual training" using meditation. This person helped me through a very difficult time in my life (during which I was suffering from depression) and it was well worth the monetary price I paid for his help in bringing me out of that mess.

Unfortunately, he (a Catholic priest with a contemplative background) turned out to be more messed up himself than he was willing to admit, and I eventually left his tutelage. That's about the time I found and began reading the translated Pali discourses. There's a gold mine of information in those discourses.

The Dhamma is free for all to contemplate. That much we know. It's the quality one-on-one time that's hard to come by. People (particularly Westerners) who want to teach the Dhamma should find a way to support themselves other than by taking paying students (although if you're a good enough teacher, it shouldn't matter; I'd gladly have paid someone to learn more quickly what it took me much time and a lot of effort to find out, but that's just me). Rather than have to rely on students to support me, I've started my own Internet business in order to support whatever work I end up doing with those seeking qualified advice. Right now, that takes up the majority of my time, and I have little time to devote to forums such as this or to writing essays and books (which I eventually intend to do).

Something for the wise to reflect upon: You get what you pay for in this life and nothing less. This has always been true, and will always be true.

Hi Steve,

I remember you saying attending one month retreat a few months ago. I wonder how it went. If you'd like to share your experience, I will be more than happy to listen.

Anyway, in regards to charging fees for dhamma teaching, I do share your view point. I was just as shocked when I found out about the rate they were charging for their teachings. It wasn't just one teacher charging that kind of money. If you look around, there are other teachers charging pretty much the same rate. I don't know if these teachers all came to an agreement as to how much to charge for their teaching but they all seem to charge at the same outrageous rate. I always felt the retreat centers are charging a lot of money but this private interviews with teachers is almost ridiculous.

Of course, you have to give some to take some. I know that in the West including U.S., the Sanghas (be it monastics or lay communities) do not get the kind of support from local communities like they do in Asian countries or the churches in the West. No matter how popular Buddhism and meditation have become in U.S. in the last few decades, it is still considered very new from mainstream's point of view. One of the problems for the Sanghas, retreat centers and lay teachers in the West is that there is such limited support coming from fellow buddhists and meditators (some are very wealthy). Therefore, it is very difficult for Sanghas to sustain their operations with such scarce donations. As a matter of fact, Daniel Ingram and Vincent Horn were discussing this topic a few months ago. It's posted in Buddhist Geek.

Another argument is that the dhamma teachers should be able to afford a decent living in Western standard. Now I do not believe that teachers should be living in abject poverty for teaching dhamma for a living. But to depend soley on the scarce donations as the only source of income, the teachers will be forced to charge high fees.

Maybe that will justify the high fees charged by teachers. But one problem I see is that the people from lower or middle class will be unfortunately denied the opportunities to learn dhamma. I am not denying the fact that by you paying high fees, others that can't afford can afford to learn. But I still think the "current system" will allow only the financially able (those with high paying professional jobs) to enjoy the benefits of dhamma.

I know a teacher, a lay person whom I have greatly benefited from. He has his own website and answers all questions relating to practice and does not charge a dime. He has practiced under U Tejanya Sayadaw for years until he founded his own teaching center (he acutally rents space from community center). He still operates his own publing company while he regularly teaches every week in two different cities. He is just as an accomplished teacher as anyone yet he does not charge hourly fees. He does accept donations to pay for the operating expenses and building the new retreat center. And he has open book policy to show how donations are used.

In order to make the teaching of dhamma available to a wider audience, I think it takes efforts and sacrifices from both the teachers and the students.

We the students that are reaping the benefits of dhamma from teachers who have trodden the path before us should not be so stingy to donate and support the teachers and sangha. They probably need our support more than we think they do.

As for teachers, if it's possible, should retain their occupation so as to not solely depend on donations and have some financial freedom.

This is a free country, sort of, and I think that people have the right to charge what they want to and people have the right to pay that or not, or even to haggle if they wish to.

There are so many models of how to do this, and they each have their pros and cons.

I personally charge nothing for the dharma, nothing for the free on-line version of my book, nothing for the time I spent teaching retreatants, nothing for the time I spend writing emails, Skyping with people, talking on the phone, etc. The little bit of money my print version of MCTB makes me just about covers the cost of the DhO. However, the price I pay is that I work a job that requires a lot of time, so the amount of time I have to spend teaching dharma is quite limited.

The people I know who teach dharma for a fee generally do have a lot of work, and generally spend way more time teaching than I do, and thus get to reach a lot more people than I do in person, and person-to-person time with those who know what they are talking about is of great value, and how much of that greatness you want to translate into actual cash is a matter of personal taste and judgement.

I also know a few people who teach for just donations, but they make up for this by teaching very large numbers of people on retreats and generally living on the road, which is disruptive to families and sanghas, means that the total time they have to give any specific person is generally very limited, and so this is clearly an imperfect model also.

Strangely, the first person who gave me authorization to teach, Christopher Titmuss, when I asked him for his advice on teaching, said, "Charge a little something. If you give a talk and charge nothing, you will get less people and they will take you less seriously than if you charge a little bit. This is sad but true." This from a guy who lives on the road on donations and was a monk for years in Asia.

As to Vince Horn, I can't fault him for wanting to get paid relatively well to teach something he is good at and has spent a lot of time practicing and working on over many years, and the basic fact is that to pay the rent in LA it is going to take that kind of money, and that is where his dharma scene is and where he choses to live, and that city as much as anywhere else sure could use some more dharma, and so I wouldn't give him too hard a time about it, as at least he will be getting his stuff out there somehow. Just my two cents anyway, as it were...

Quote
I know a teacher, a lay person whom I have greatly benefited from. He has his own website and answers all questions relating to practice and does not charge a dime. He has practiced under U Tejanya Sayadaw for years until he founded his own teaching center (he acutally rents space from community center). He still operates his own publing company while he regularly teaches every week in two different cities. He is just as an accomplished teacher as anyone yet he does not charge hourly fees. He does accept donations to pay for the operating expenses and building the new retreat center. And he has open book policy to show how donations are used.

Please share the name of this teacher is that is appropriate. Thanks.

I am very sorry to hear that.
I would like to send all my metta to your family.

Unfortunately, and I am sorry to tell you, the teacher teaches in Korea and as of now no English service is available. I mentioned him because I liked his model which isn't much of a financial burden to the students.

And I just want to add that it might be easy to think someone teaching meditation in heavily Zen/Mahayana buddhist country like Korea, it won't be too difficult to gain financial support from moastic/lay communities.

Well, my teacher had his shares of difficulties gaining a foothold in Korean Buddhist Community when he first began teaching. Not only was he a lay person without monastic sangha watching his back, but he had to endure constant challenges and ridicule from Zen monks and scholars. For at that time in Korea, vipassana meditation was just another "inferior Hinayana stuff", as it was known to Zen buddhists then.

He started small in the beginning, going from one member's house to another for weekly teaching. As each yogi started to get the taste of insight meditation, the members grew rapidly. He did charge for the classes and retreats - a few hundred bucks at most. Without so much financial burden, pretty much anyone including college students were able to join. Within a few years, with donations from each member who have benefitted from practice, they are now constructing a village (not just a retreat center) with dhamma hall, houses, kutis and all for all the yogis to come & live & meditate. These houses are small and they can be rented or purchased. It's also surprising that almost all these students don't come from buddhist background. Only a few percentages of students are former Zen/Mahayana buddhists. Most others did not have religion but mere interest in meditation.

And I never got to meet the teacher myself, for I reside in the US (in the east coast). It's his willingness to help that I appreciate so much. With his instructions, I was able to navigate and overcome the obstacles in my practice.

Sure, I can't fault a teacher charging a bundle. He/she must have good reasons for it. In all fairness, I wouldn't know what kind of difficulties are involved behind the scene for leading retreats or classes. And perhaps, charging $70 - $100 per hour is justifiable. But when more people have the opportunity to practice and reap the benefit from it, then surely, Dhamma will flourish.

Just my 2 cents.

Did you read anywhere in my post that anyone including dhamma teachers can or should live without money? Is that the idea you are getting at from the above posts?

Please read again!

To assume that one has the right to get something for free is naive, imho.
The teachings themselves are for free in terms of countless writings, talks and dharma centers.
We´re all subject to economic factors, there is no denying we have to pay our bills unless one is a monk.
Some can afford to give teachings for free, others can´t.

If someone decides to charge a fee that´s that person´s business. You don´t have to practice with anyone if you you don´t want.
So if someone lives a "normal" life like most of us do then it´s that person´s right to charge fees.

Simple as that!

This is a link to a short talk (~8 mins) re teachers in general and what to beware of and some specific comments about teachers who charge. The speaker also makes it clear (as I hope I did--but clearly just an opinion) that dana and charging are not the same no matter how you spin it.
http://www.youtube.com/user/empty0grace#p/search/72/xcm54ek1bXs

To echo Ian, it seems to me that what one pays for (if one pays for a private audience with a teacher) is that teacher's time.

There are many people on the DhO whose activity here amounts to public teaching without financial compensation...however, to the extent that you desired an ongoing private audience with them, it does not seem unreasonable that they would ask for money in exchange for that. (They might not, but if they did, that would seem quite fair.) This shows that it is not the teaching which would be charged for, but the private audience.

Just my thoughts.

Isn't dāna something done for the benefit of the person doing the giving?

This link is an elaboration on the subject of charging fees to teach from someone with valid credentials. It is really upsetting to see an increasing incidence of dharma as product. Daniel, the speaker in the YouTube video puts it succinctly and clearly. Please watch and listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTwXGFPTwZc&feature=digest_mon

Most people hire a tradesman to fix their plumbing and a shrink to fix their head, why not pay for someone to fix their misfiring practice. Each of these kinds of information are arcane to those who do not understand. I think that Dharma is "special" but is it that special? Yes, but people need to eat, even Dharma teachers.

The whole master/student power dynamic is interesting especially so in a Dharma context, there is a "cleanliness" in paying upfront that can be quite liberating (sic). Just a thought.

I quite agree. Given how much I've benefited from retreat-leader interviews in the past, if I could find a good teacher who was willing to work with me, I wouldn't feel any compunction at paying substantially for their time and services.

As it turns out, though, it isn't as easy to find such a teacher as I'd like it to be. Perhaps exactly because it's hard to make a living doing that sort of thing in the US these days.

I've just looked at this vid

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTwXGFPTwZc&feature=digest_mon

I don't know who this guy is but he seems very loving and genuine. Its funny, I agree with pretty much everything his says. The trouble is, the kind of dharma world that he describes is not the dharma world where I live in or have ever lived. Listening to this guy makes me jealous. I wish I lived in a time and place where an infrastructure of teaching was developed to the extent that it makes the virtuous circle of sharing and dana and growth real and tangable. Some people (me,) can't afford to be fussy.

There is some merit in most of the points made by the posters here justifying charging money for time with students. The quoted comment from C. Titmus is sadly true; westerners don't respect you if you don't charge money. What Dan I. said about freedom is a good point: After all, who makes the rules? But let us remember that freedom to do something is not freedom from the greed that might inspire us to do it.

Someone said something about a charge being "clean", also true in a psychological way. And yet despite it all, there is also something very pure about not charging. It helps to keep the Dhamma pristine, that is to say, more like the Dhamma, after all we are teaching the Dhamma, not just coaching meditation. We hold a sacred trust, and the manner in which we hold it, should I feel, reflect the nature of that which we hold. You don't mount a gem on string. And being lay people, this quality of "pristine Dhamma" is all to easily compromised, as I am sure you all know from experience.

I tend to be stubborn and uncompromising in such things. In the end, the students that stick around are more likely to be the kind of students that will be serious about deep practice. Also, when we rely on dana, it does make the student aware of dana, and puts them in a situation in which they have to reflect on the importance of generosity, of giving back, of gratitude, of their preceived value in the help they get, what they can really afford etc. It brings the student-teacher dynamic into the "work" so to speak, and you know how "us Theravadins" are; we love to turn everything into an occasion for the work of learning and growth.
Also, just because the teacher does not charge a fee does not absolve the teacher from his or her responsibility to teach about the importance of dana and gratitude! We do have a responsibility to raise up students correctly in the Dharma, and part of that is both the practice of generosity and the quality of gratitude. If you charge a fee a lot of that disapears.

Metta to all,

Daniel

Something of an argument against a direct exchange relationship between teacher of the dhamma and student.

Thanissaro Bhikkhu - "Refuge"











These arguments might only work in a situation where the goals people are attempting to achieve are fetter-model attainments. As many have found MCTB type attainments are insufficient, in a situation where the teachers have attained MCTB stuff and believe that this is all they can attain, they might have a relatively greater interest in worldly happiness. In a situation in which the end of suffering is being achieved with the completion of the fetter model, a goal more difficult and more fulfilling (so I hear) teachers are probably more inclined to devote their lives to the dhamma and give their teachings for free (as the thing to which they have devoted their lives doesn't cost much), and the recipients might be more grateful and thus more willing to give.

It has taken me some time to respond to these last two posts by Daniel and Josh. A large part of this is because it has forced me to examine my own practice history with a newly beady eye, with some unexpected results. And “.,."us Theravadins" …; we love to turn everything into an occasion for the work of learning and growth.” Say no more.

But first, I would like to apologise for referring to Daniel as “this guy” I had no idea that you would be reading or responding to my rather hurried comment.

Secondly I support and would defend your right to be as “…stubborn and uncompromising in such things” as you like. I have no doubt when you say that. “In the end, the students that stick around are more likely to be the kind of students that will be serious about deep practice.” And by that I am assuming you mean the deeper significance of generosity in all its manifestations.

Unfortunately Josh, I have no scriptural arguments to challenge you with. I was never much of a scholar and I think it’s too late to start now. However your post does point up a rather interesting culture clash with respect to my practice history and I suspect the practice histories of many others.

What do you say to some one who has no idea what “10 fetters” are? or the “MCBT?” or the Theravadan “4 path model?”, or the “10 Bhumis?” I spent the first five years of my meditation career without hearing the word “mindful” and 15 more trying to get someone to explain what this meant. I now know that such an explanation is conceptually difficult but I don’t think that an honest description of someone’s personal experience of the phenomenon would have been too much to ask. Also I would have paid good money for this information and stand by this position. I am “…stubborn and uncompromising…” about this. So much less of my life would have been wasted if one of the many teachers I was involved with had had the wit to explain this to me and money be damned.

At this point it’s important to acknowledge the elephant in the room. I never paid a fixed fee for any of the tuition I have received, none was asked for and Dana was not a word that I heard until fairly recently. On many occasions it was obvious that “something” was required especially some of the new age/ Hindu lite outfits. Whisper it quietly, (your soul.)

A second elephant would be that strong probability that many of my teachers didn’t know much more than I did. I can still vividly remember the profound disappointment the first time I realised this. I remain perplexed by the Tibetan Lamas and Tulkus I had the good fortune to speak to though. They appeared to be incapable of giving a straight answer but gave advice that was oddly effective. They never asked for any money but formal instruction always accompanied by “donations” that were compulsory. Hmmm…not having a country, changes things I suppose.

In fact boundaries were and continue to be a problem. One way of removing this problem is with money. If you are with a teacher who does have something to teach but has a normal, human, level of screwed-up-ness about money, raising the issue will soon blow the referees’ whistle and bring it out into the open. Then you can have a normal adult conversation about what everybody expects from the situation. Seriously guys, I am too old for this crap. People who are really sorted out and grown-up about money are rare. I’m sure that genuinely attained people are sorted out and my experiences with this community have proved this. But where I actually live, this is not the case; so it falls to me to be the grown-up, so be it.

One last point, which is, I suppose, a disclaimer. I have been as asked recently, much to my surprise, to give instruction. I feel honored that people trust me to let me help them traverse these difficult waters. I don’t feel I know enough but others appear to disagree. At no point has it occurred to me to charge for this, at the moment the thought feels abhorrent and makes me feel all icky. Interesting sensations to explore.

I myself would be grateful if it were possible to give dana through this website, and thereby help pay for this site and possibly enable daniel to teach more. it would be nice if there was a little paypal link stashed away unobnoxiously on the site somewhere for people to find if they might be looking for it...

No Strings Attached
The Buddha's Culture of Generosity
by
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
© 2009–2012

“How can I ever repay you for your teaching?”

Good meditation teachers often hear this question from their students, and the best answer I know for it is one that my teacher, Ajaan Fuang, gave every time:

“By being intent on practicing.”

Each time he gave this answer, I was struck by how noble and gracious it was. And it wasn't just a formality. He never tried to find opportunities to pressure his students for donations. Even when our monastery was poor, he never acted poor, never tried to take advantage of their gratitude and trust. This was a refreshing change from some of my previous experiences with run-of-the-mill village and city monks who were quick to drop hints about their need for donations from even stray or casual visitors.

Eventually I learned that Ajaan Fuang's behavior is common throughout the Forest Tradition. It's based on a passage in the Pali Canon where the Buddha on his deathbed states that the highest homage to him is not material homage, but the homage of practicing the Dhamma in accordance with the Dhamma. In other words, the best way to repay a teacher is to take the Dhamma to heart and to practice it in a way that fulfills his or her compassionate purpose in teaching it. I was proud to be part of a tradition where the inner wealth of this noble idea was actually lived — where, as Ajaan Fuang often put it, we weren't reduced to hirelings, and the act of teaching the Dhamma was purely a gift.

So I was saddened when, on my return to America, I had my first encounters with the dana talk: the talk on giving and generosity that often comes at the end of a retreat. The context of the talk — and often the content — makes clear that it's not a disinterested exercise. It's aimed at generating gifts for the teacher or the organization sponsoring the retreat, and it places the burden of responsibility on the retreatants to ensure that future retreats can occur. The language of the talk is often smooth and encouraging, but when contrasted with Ajaan Fuang's answer, I found the sheer fact of the talk ill-mannered and demeaning. If the organizers and teachers really trusted the retreatants' good-heartedness, they wouldn't be giving the talk at all. To make matters worse, the typical dana talk — along with its companion, the meditation-center fundraising letter — often cites the example of how monks and nuns are supported in Asia as justification for how dana is treated here in the West. But they're taking as their example the worst of the monks, and not the best.

I understand the reasoning behind the talk. Lay teachers here aspire to the ideal of teaching for free, but they still need to eat. And, unlike the monastics of Asia, they don't have a long-standing tradition of dana to fall back on. So the dana talk was devised as a means for establishing a culture of dana in a Western context. But as so often is the case when new customs are devised for Western Buddhism, the question is whether the dana talk skillfully translates Buddhist principles into the Western context or seriously distorts them. The best way to answer this question is to take a close look at those principles in their original context.

It's well known that dana lies at the beginning of Buddhist practice. Dana, quite literally, has kept the Dhamma alive. If it weren't for the Indian tradition of giving to mendicants, the Buddha would never have had the opportunity to explore and find the path to Awakening. The monastic sangha wouldn't have had the time and opportunity to follow his way. Dana is the first teaching in the graduated discourse: the list of topics the Buddha used to lead listeners step-by-step to an appreciation of the four noble truths, and often from there to their own first taste of Awakening. When stating the basic principles of karma, he would begin with the statement, “There is what is given.”

What's less well known is that in making this statement, the Buddha was not dealing in obvious truths or generic platitudes, for the topic of giving was actually controversial in his time. For centuries, the brahmans of India had been extolling the virtue of giving — as long as the gifts were given to them. Not only that, gifts to brahmans were obligatory. People of other castes, if they didn't concede to the brahmans' demands for gifts, were neglecting their most essential social duty. By ignoring their duties in the present life, such people and their relatives would suffer hardship both now and after death.

As might be expected, this attitude produced a backlash. Several of the samana, or contemplative, movements of the Buddha's time countered the brahmans' claims by asserting that there was no virtue in giving at all. Their arguments fell into two camps. One camp claimed that giving carried no virtue because there was no afterlife. A person was nothing more than physical elements that, at death, returned to their respective spheres. That was it. Giving thus provided no long-term results. The other camp stated that there was no such thing as giving, for everything in the universe has been determined by fate. If a donor gives something to another person, it's not really a gift, for the donor has no choice or free will in the matter. Fate was simply working itself out.

So when the Buddha, in his introduction to the teaching on karma, began by saying that there is what is given, he was repudiating both camps. Giving does give results both now and on into the future, and it is the result of the donor's free choice. However, in contrast to the brahmans, the Buddha took the principle of freedom one step further. When asked where a gift should be given, he stated simply, “Wherever the mind feels inspired.” In other words — aside from repaying one's debt to one's parents — there is no obligation to give. This means that the choice to give is an act of true freedom, and thus the perfect place to start the path to total release.

This is why the Buddha adopted dana as the context for practicing and teaching the Dhamma. But — to maintain the twin principles of freedom and fruitfulness in giving — he created a culture of dana that embodied particularly Buddhist ideals. To begin with, he defined dana not simply as material gifts. The practice of the precepts, he said, was also a type of dana — the gift of universal safety, protecting all beings from the harm of one's unskillful actions — as was the act of teaching the Dhamma. This meant that lavish giving was not just the prerogative of the rich. Secondly, he formulated a code of conduct to produce an attitude toward giving that would benefit both the donors and the recipients, keeping the practice of giving both fruitful and free.

We tend not to associate codes of conduct with the word “freedom,” but that's because we forget that freedom, too, needs protection, especially from the attitude that wants to be free in its choices but feels insecure when others are free in theirs. The Buddha's codes of conduct are voluntary — he never coerced anyone into practicing his teachings — but once they are adopted, they require the cooperation of both sides to keep them effective and strong.

These codes are best understood in terms of the six factors that the Buddha said exemplified the ideal gift:

“The donor, before giving, is glad; while giving, his/her mind is inspired; and after giving, is gratified. These are the three factors of the donor…

“The recipients are free of passion or are practicing for the subduing of passion; free of aversion or practicing for the subduing of aversion; and free of delusion or practicing for the subduing of delusion. These are the three factors of the recipients.”

— AN 6.37

Although this passage seems to suggest that each side is responsible only for the factors on its side, the Buddha's larger etiquette for generosity shows that the responsibility for all six factors — and in particular, the three factors of the donor — is shared. And this shared responsibility flourishes best in an atmosphere of mutual trust.

For the donors, this means that if they want to feel glad, inspired, and gratified at their gift, they should not see the gift as payment for personal services rendered by individual monks or nuns. That would turn the gift into wages, and deprive it of its emotional power. Instead, they'd be wise to look for trustworthy recipients: people who are training — or have trained — their minds to be cleaned and undefiled. They should also give their gift in a respectful way so that the act of giving will reinforce the gladness that inspired it, and will inspire the recipient to value their gift.

The responsibilities of the recipients, however, are even more stringent. To ensure that the donor feels glad before giving, monks and nuns are forbidden from pressuring the donor in any way. Except when ill or in situations where the donor has invited them to ask, they cannot ask for anything beyond the barest emergency necessities. They are not even allowed to give hints about what they'd like to receive. When asked where a prospective gift should be given, they are told to follow the Buddha's example and say, “Give wherever your gift would be used, or would be well-cared for, or would last long, or wherever your mind feels inspired.” This conveys a sense of trust in the donor's discernment — which in itself is a gift that gladdens the donor's mind.

To ensure that a donor feels inspired while giving a gift, the monks and nuns are enjoined to receive gifts attentively and with an attitude of respect. To ensure that the donor feels gratified afterward, they should live frugally, care for the gift, and make sure it is used in an appropriate way. In other words, they should show that the donor's trust in them is well placed. And of course they must work on subduing their greed, anger, and delusion. In fact, this is a primary motivation for trying to attain arahantship: so that the gifts given to one will bear the donors great fruit.

By sharing these responsibilities in an atmosphere of trust, both sides protect the freedom of the donor. They also foster the conditions that will enable not only the practice of generosity but also the entire practice of Dhamma to flourish and grow.

The principles of freedom and fruitfulness also govern the code the Buddha formulated specifically for protecting the gift of Dhamma. Here again, the responsibilities are shared. To ensure that the teacher is glad, inspired, and gratified in teaching, the listeners are advised to listen with respect, to try to understand the teaching, and — once they're convinced that it's genuinely wise — to sincerely put it into practice so as to gain the desired results. Like a monk or nun receiving a material gift, the recipient of the gift of Dhamma has the simple responsibility of treating the gift well.

The teacher, meanwhile, must make sure not to regard the act of teaching as a repayment of a debt. After all, monks and nuns repay their debt to their lay donors by trying to rid their minds of greed, aversion, and delusion. They are in no way obligated to teach, which means that the act of teaching is a gift free and clear. In addition, the Buddha insisted that the Dhamma be taught without expectation of material reward. When he was once offered a “teacher's fee” for his teaching, he refused to accept it and told the donor to throw it away. He also established the precedent that when a monastic teaches the rewards of generosity, the teaching is given after a gift has been given, not before, so that the stain of hinting won't sully what's said.

All of these principles assume a high level of nobility and restraint on both sides of the equation, which is why people tried to find ways around them even while the Buddha was alive. The origin stories to the monastic discipline — the tales portraying the misbehavior that led the Buddha to formulate rules for the monks and nuns — often tell of monastics whose gift of Dhamma came with strings attached, and of lay people who gladly pulled those strings to get what they wanted out of the monastics: personal favors served with an ingratiating smile. The Buddha's steady persistence in formulating rules to cut these strings shows how determined he was that the principle of Dhamma as a genuinely free gift not be an idle ideal. He wanted it to influence the way people actually behaved.

He never gave an extended explanation of why the act of teaching should always be a gift, but he did state in general terms that when his code of conduct became corrupt over time, that would corrupt the Dhamma as well. And in the case of the etiquette of generosity, this principle has been borne out frequently throughout Buddhist history.

A primary example is recorded in the Apadanas, which scholars believe were added to the Canon after King Asoka's time. The Apadanas discuss the rewards of giving in a way that shows how eager the monks composing them were to receive lavish gifts. They promise that even a small gift will bear fruit as guaranteed arahantship many eons in the future, and that the path from now to then will always be filled with pleasure and prestige. Attainments of special distinction, though, require special donations. Some of these donations bear a symbolic resemblance to the desired distinction — a gift of lighted lamps, for instance, presages clairvoyance — but the preferred gift of distinction was a week's worth of lavish meals for an entire monastery, or at least for the monks who teach.

It's obvious that the monks who composed the Apadanas were giving free rein to their greed, and were eager to tell their listeners what their listeners wanted to hear. The fact that these texts were recorded for posterity shows that the listeners, in fact, were pleased. Thus the teachers and their students, acting in collusion, skewed the culture of dana in the direction of their defilements. In so doing they distorted the Dhamma as well. If gift-giving guarantees Awakening, it supplants the noble eightfold path with the one-fold path of the gift. If the road to Awakening is always prestigious and joyful, the concept of right effort disappears. Yet once these ideas were introduced into the Buddhist tradition, they gained the stamp of authority and have affected Buddhist practice ever since. Throughout Buddhist Asia, people tend to give gifts with an eye to their symbolic promise of future reward; and the list of gifts extolled in the Apadanas reads like a catalog of the gifts placed on altars throughout Buddhist Asia even today.

Which goes to show that once the culture of dana gets distorted, it can distort the practice of Dhamma as a whole for many centuries. So if we're serious about bringing the culture of dana to the West, we should be very careful to ensure that our efforts honor the principles that make dana a genuinely Buddhist practice. This means no longer using the tactics of modern fundraising to encourage generosity among retreatants or Buddhists in general. It also means rethinking the dana talk, for on many counts it fails the test. In pressuring retreatants to give to teachers, it doesn't lead to gladness before giving, and instead sounds like a plea for a tip at the end of a meal. The frequent efforts to pull on the retreatants' heartstrings as a path to their purse strings betray a lack of trust in their thoughtfulness and leave a bad taste. And the entire way dana is handled for teachers doesn't escape the fact that it's payment for services rendered. Whether teachers think about this consciously or not, it pressures them subtly to tell their listeners what they think their listeners want to hear. The Dhamma can't help but suffer as a result.

The ideal solution would be to provide a framework whereby serious Dhamma practitioners could be supported whether or not they taught. That way, the act of teaching would be a genuine gift. In the meantime, though, a step in the direction of a genuine culture of dana would be to declare a moratorium on all dana talks at the end of retreats, and on references to the Buddhist tradition of dana in fundraising appeals, so as to give the word time to recover its dignity.

On retreats, dana could be discussed in a general way, in the context of the many Dhamma talks given on how best to integrate Dhamma practice in daily life. At the end of the retreat, a basket could be left out for donations, with a note that the teacher hasn't been paid to teach the retreat. That's all. No appeals for mercy. No flashcards. Sensitive retreatants will be able to put two and two together, and will feel glad, inspired, and gratified that they were trusted to do the math for themselves.

© 2009–2012

Thanks to Katy for posting that great article.

Regarding Jacky's wishes, my book makes me about $1000/yr, which pays for this website, and the amount of dana that would make it possible for me to teach more is unfortunately at the level that only the 0.01% could afford, and so I have failed to make myself easy to support.

To that end, I have a few year plan to sell my properties, pay off debts, and thus, in a few years, be able to work less, such that I have more time for this.

Daniel