Trust in the Truth | Ven. Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | Nihada Arana

මුල් සිංහල වීඩියෝව සඳහා Play කරන්න

Trust in the Truth | Ven. Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | Nihada Arana 

Now, just now, the other day, at night, we started talking about these ten Māras. In the sutta we have been discussing so far, I think we have talked about five of them. Of the ten armies of Māra, the Blessed One taught that the first army is sensual pleasure (kāma). The second army is aversion (arati), the mind's dislike for seclusion. Then there is hunger and thirst (khuppipāsā), which is the mind's greed for food. After that is craving (tanhā), which is the desire for more and more and more external things. Then yesterday, we talked about sloth and torpor (thīnamiddha), another one of the ten armies of Māra. So, thīnamiddha. If we look at these closely, what is called the ten Māras or the ten billion armies of Māra are actually these defiled states within our own minds.

After that, today let's talk about doubt (vicikicchā) and fear (bhaya). Actually, those two are together. Fear comes first, then doubt. I will explain them in a slightly reversed order, describing how fear arises through doubt. Now, doubt, this vicikicchā, is also one of the armies of the ten Māras. Why is that? After that, when we say doubt (vicikicchā), we now know that vicikicchā is a doubt that remains in our mind no matter what we do. It means, is this the path I am taking? Is the path I am on correct? Or is the path you, venerable sir, are teaching wrong? There is always this doubt about one's own path. About oneself, about the path one is on. The problem is, when the hindrance of doubt, the Māra of doubt, becomes active within us, it is very difficult to travel this path to liberation (moksha). That is why the Buddha pointed out that the opposite of doubt is faith (saddhā). Saddhāya bījam means "Faith, O monks, is the seed." Why? Because what attacks this hindrance, what attacks this army of Māra, is our inner devotion, our faith. It is with our faith that we have to fight this army of Māra called doubt that is within us. When that faith decreases, one gets caught in doubt.

When devotion decreases, the problem is that once this thing called doubt enters the mind, it is... I think that, spiritually as well as in worldly life, once doubt begins to enter, one starts to see everything in that same doubtful way, always. When it comes, when this doubt comes into the mind, as I see it, there is a great sense of inner agitation. There is no real joy. The inside is always... whenever you look at their face, there's no... we say it's very heavy, right? The mind that has doubt. There's a story about a woman whose husband, for some time, would always have long hairs on his shirt pocket. The wife then became suspicious, "You must be involved with some woman at the office, right? There are always long hairs on your shirt." After a while, there were no more long hairs. Then she says, "Now you're involved with a bald woman, aren't you? Someone with no hair, right?" See, it's a very difficult thing. No matter what you do, it's very hard for a doubting mind. Minds that doubt are suspicious of everything. If you act properly, they are suspicious. "I don't know what he's up to."

So, that doubting mind, the seventh of the ten Māras, is doubt. The nature of that doubt is to always create some problem. Is the way I'm going right or wrong? Have I gone too far? Am I too far away? This doubt always creates a problematic quality. There is no sense of relief at all. One might know a lot of Dhamma, know the suttas, know everything. But when you look at their face, there is no freedom at all. As we learn this Dhamma, we should become like birds, flying freely in the sky. That is the kind of freedom that should come. Meaning, if we truly feel this Dhamma, we should be like birds flying freely. We would be floating through life because we are that free. Because as we feel the Dhamma more and more, faith (saddhā) arises in us. Devotion comes, belief comes. What is the reason? The characteristic of the mental factor (cetasika) of faith (saddhā) is... we call faith the quality of believing. Vicikicchā never believes in anything. Vicikicchā never shows a nature of believing. It always has a nature of doubting. Now, what faith has is always the characteristic of faith. In Sinhala, we say faith is the characteristic of believing. We do things by believing. We do it with belief.

However, this characteristic of faith, of believing, is described at different levels in the Tripitaka. For instance, in some suttas of the Lord Buddha, it is said, Saddhāya saddhahati Tathāgatassa bodhim, which means, "Have faith in the Tathāgata's inner nature, in the Buddha's heart, in the Buddha's heart, in his awakening." Believe in his awakening. So then, things like that... that's why it is divided into joyful faith (pasāda saddhā), then rational faith (ākāravatī saddhā), and unshakable faith (acala saddhā). When you go into the Tripitaka, this quality of believing, this nature of faith, is explained in various ways, at different levels. However, the basic thing we need to understand now is that faith (saddhā) means the quality of believing, the act of belief.

Now, think about it. For someone whose belief is very strong... for them, the path is very short. If someone has strong faith, if their belief is strong, their liberation is like a shortcut, very brief. They don't need to analyze and dissect things bit by bit. The analytical path, the path of the Dhamma-follower (dhammānusārī), the path of wisdom (paññā), is a gradual one. The path of wisdom, the analytical path, is a journey taken step by step, by little bits. It's a path where you analyze, then practice, gain the experience within yourself, then practice again and again. It is a somewhat long and slow journey. But the path of the faith-follower (saddhānusārī) is not like that. For those characters who believe, who are faith-followers, I don't think they have such a long task to do. However, to become a faith-follower, one might have spent many lifetimes on the path of a Dhamma-follower, investigating with wisdom (paññā). One has to come on the path of a Dhamma-follower for many lifetimes. It is after coming on the path of a Dhamma-follower that in the final lifetimes, for them, no matter how much you preach about wisdom, what they feel is faith, not analysis. This is because their accumulated wisdom is so vast, their knowledge is so great, that they don't go into analysis. No matter how much they try to analyze, what comes to them is devotion. What comes to them is belief.

So, that is... but in the Buddha's teaching, space is given for both these paths. For the path of the faith-follower (saddhānusārī) and the path of the Dhamma-follower (dhammānusārī), the Buddha's word has made space for both. There is room to go in both directions. However, regarding the nature of the path of the faith-follower, let me give you an example. Let's say we are talking like this, and there is a faith-follower here. I give a sermon saying, "This world is like a teledrama we watch. What we see as life is like a teledrama." When we watch a teledrama, we feel as if there are people there, right? But we know there is no actress there, no actor. There are no two people in love there. We see people who seem to be eating, but they are not really eating. I mean, when we watch a teledrama, look, we see them eating this and that, eating biryani, eating pizza. Our mouths even water. But even though our mouths water, there is no one actually eating there. There is no pizza being eaten, and no woman eating it. Similarly, we see them walking there. But there is no one walking. There is no act of walking. There is truly no one walking, and no walking is happening. But it feels as if it is happening. It appears as if it is happening. There is no one there to talk. But it appears as if they are talking, and we hear it.

Something that makes this very clear is what I see in some TikTok videos, where two people are dubbed over a clip from some teledrama. The voices don't belong to those two, but they are acting to the voices. It's not their voices we hear, but they are acting to another's voice. Think about it, it's like that. But we feel as if those two are talking there. So, we can see that in a teledrama, there is really no one speaking, nor is there a conversation. There is no one seeing, nor is there a thing being seen. Inside it, no one eats, no one sleeps. But now, imagine there is a small child watching this. The child thinks about the people on the TV. "Mommy, don't they get sleepy? Do they eat pizza every day?" the child asks. The child asks a question, and the mother says, "There is no one there. Son, there is no one eating there, and there is nothing being eaten there. It only appears that way. It only feels as though something like that is happening." Now, imagine the child has supreme wisdom (paññā). When the mother says those words, the child believes it. Those words are enough for him. The words are sufficient. He doesn't need to go and dismantle the TV to see who is inside, to take out the parts and see that it's only a collection of elements (dhātu). He doesn't need that much analysis. He doesn't need to break it down that much because when his mother says it, he has this wisdom that has come from his journey through samsara. When she says it, he feels it. By the time the mother says it, he has already felt it. Faith arises in him. Confidence comes to him.

There are people like that in the universe. They don't need to analyze this and break it down a lot. For some of them, you just have to say, "What you are seeing is just a drama. You are just seeing a teledrama, a teledrama where no one exists." Think about it, you might be listening to this sermon I am giving on your laptop or phone. At that moment too, it feels as if the venerable sir is giving the sermon, doesn't it? But in reality, the venerable sir is not there. The venerable sir does not really exist. An image of the venerable sir does not really exist. But we see it on the phone, we feel it when we watch on the laptop, as if the venerable sir is right in front of us. It's just like, if we go into our room and take a picture of ourselves, sometimes we feel shy to change our clothes. Why is that? Because we feel, we sense, as if someone is there in the room. But there is no such thing. Just like that, if our life, this seeing, this feeling, is also such a thing... then, for one with wisdom and faith, this is not just a thought like "Oh, nothing exists." If you just think that, then the thought becomes real. It's about... we say it touches the heart, the awakening. One begins to feel the awakening (bodhi) of the Tathāgata. The analogy is enough. For a person whose perfections (pāramitā) are fulfilled, when that analogy is given, they don't need to create a huge mental explanation. They don't need to analyze it to proceed. When it is said, the heart, the Buddha's heart, is felt. Meaning, one begins to feel the Buddha. Or, saddhahati Tathāgatassa bodhim, one begins to understand the Tathāgata's awakening. Awakening (bodhi) means crossing over. It's based on that knowledge where a being or a personality is not established.

Just like that, there are some people, as I said, who don't need to analyze this a lot, breaking it down into elements (dhātu), sense bases (āyatana), aggregates (skandha), or mind-and-matter (nāmarūpa). Their perfections (pāramitā) are greatly fulfilled. When it is spoken, they feel it. Devotion arises. When the word is heard, faith in the word arises within. Doubt (vicikicchā) does not arise. A doubt does not arise. There are some people, now, we give that sermon. We preach the ultimate teaching of the Lord Buddha, the Dhamma of emptiness (suññatā). As we preach that Dhamma of emptiness, for some people, doubt begins to arise inside. That doubt begins to arise because their belief, taught to them, that a physical world exists separate from them is too strong. Because they strongly believe that there is a physical world separate from them... their belief in the physical is too strong. Because they feel there is a physical world, and because their belief that they exist as a separate person is strong... due to that strong belief that there is a person called 'me' and a world external to them, when they hear the Tathāgata's Dhamma of emptiness, doubt arises. Vicikicchā arises. When that sermon is given, doubt and uncertainty arise about it; belief does not come. Devotion does not come.

That devotion doesn't come because they are still attached to this world. They still have a great desire for this physical world, for matter, for their world. They still want to experience this. Meaning, to savor this, to enjoy this dream, this dream... they still have desires. "I haven't done that yet, venerable sir. I haven't done this yet. I have things in this dream that I haven't done." Life is still remaining. Meaning, when we were laypeople, we had our plans. Remnants of those plans from our lay life are still there. "I haven't properly seen such-and-such things yet. I haven't experienced pure love. I still have these desires." Because of these kinds of hidden desires within, because of these hidden desires, no matter how much we hear this Dhamma of emptiness, the inside does not allow us to believe it. Belief does not come. A small doubt or some small uncertainty remains. There is at least a small idea that "I exist" and that "this world exists." At the very least, that this mental world is real. If not the physical, then that this mental world is a reality. That there is something that can be experienced at least with the mind.

So then, we have to understand that as our attachment to this world becomes stronger, as the feeling that it must continue grows, my faith (saddhā) begins to decrease. My belief begins to decrease. I become reluctant to face you, venerable sir. I become reluctant to listen to your words. I mean, what I am saying is, I am not that willing to listen to the words of truth from the Lord Buddha. I avoid it. I don't want to hear those words. I don't want to meet that spiritual friend (kalyāṇa mitta). Doubts about the spiritual friend begin to arise in me. Meaning, we say, "I am a bit doubtful of him now." Just like that, little by little, doubts and displeasure about those words, about the teacher who speaks those words, and about the teacher himself, begin to arise in my mind. The reason for that displeasure to arise is that I am still attached to this physical world. I still... this matter is not a dream for me. This matter is not an illusion, not a teledrama. For me, this is a reality. When it becomes a reality for me, I start to feel the teacher also as another person existing within this matter. When faith decreases. When the devotion within me, when my faith within me decreases, I start to feel the teacher as just another person in this physical world. Not from the heart, but just another man. Just another human being. When one's teacher becomes just another human being, one starts to see the teacher's faults. When one starts to see the teacher's faults, one starts to get disillusioned. Then, gradually, one says, "My trust in you, venerable sir, has gone. I never thought you would do something like this. I never thought you were someone who would do such things."

This means, doubt arises in them because they have been believing in the teacher not with faith, but physically. They have believed the teacher to be a material thing, a person in this physical world. As someone who lives in this physical world. Meaning, I see a dream of a world external to me, and I begin to feel the teacher as a part of my illusion, as a part of that dream. Then, doubts arise within me. Doubts come. I start to judge what he does as right or wrong inside. Meaning, I measure, I weigh. At that point, once again, even the teacher, even the words, begin to be compared inside me. I start to compare. Analysis begins. When that analysis comes, it is not happiness that comes. Gradually, I get fed up with everything. Meaning, little by little, I start to get fed up with all of it.

So, if I understand that, truly, when my faith decreases, doubt arises. When doubt arises, I need to understand that I am having doubts about these words and the teacher because this physical world has become a reality for me. This dream has become a truth for me. No matter how much he says this is an illusion, this is a teledrama, I don't believe it. I believe what I see. I believe the story I see from my personal perspective. After believing the physical story, doubt begins to arise in me. What is the reason? When I believe in this world, there are things in this world that have value to me. When the teacher attacks those valuable things, I get angry. When the teacher destroys them. When he speaks of them in a demeaning way. When he tries to remove them from me. At every such point, at every such moment, the faith I had shatters. I get angry underneath, even if I don't lash out. So then, I need to understand that at any given time, when my faith decreases, everything in this world starts to feel real to me. My future, my plans, the desires I have yet to fulfill—these start to feel like things I absolutely must do, paths I absolutely must take. As faith diminishes, faith in the world arises, and doubt (vicikicchā) about the teacher arises. Vicikicchā about the Dhamma arises. The Dhamma becomes doubtful. The teacher becomes doubtful. But faith arises in the illusion that is in my mind. I begin to believe in it. I start to trust it.

So then, in this way, we must understand that this story goes on between doubt and faith. Inevitably, when faith decreases, the hindrance of doubt (vicikicchā-nīvaraṇa), the Māra called vicikicchā, attacks us. When faith arises again, when belief arises, there is no room for doubt. Meaning, when the word of the Teacher begins to enter my heart, when my heart begins to feel it, then, little by little, I begin to understand that my inner self, which was aimed at big goals, is now... all of it is as if my future has caught fire. The reason is, we can understand if the path we are taking is right or not when we have been on this path for some time. I began to realize that the big goals I had in life, to become someone important, all of that faded away. The other day, a white gentleman came to have his meditation subject "cleansed" [a session with a meditation teacher]. When I went to talk to him, there was really nothing to cleanse. I smiled and said, "There's nothing to talk about, you can go." Because as I talked with him, what I understood was that when the path is right, when that path begins to grow, for us who were stuck in big goals, we realize that my future is completely as if it has been set on fire. It's like my future aspirations, hopes, things I haven't yet fulfilled, and things I thought would be good if they were fulfilled, were all written on a piece of paper. As this faith (saddhā) arises, all of that starts to catch fire.

Meaning, my desire to be someone in a physical sense, my sensual desires (kāmāsava), desire for gain, honor, fame, and praise, the desire to be someone, to experience—all of this begins to burn within me. It’s as if all my future desires were written on a piece of paper and set on fire. So, understand this well: when this faith (saddhā) begins to arise within us, when devotion towards that word begins to come, when that word begins to be felt by our heart, after that word is felt by our heart like this, we realize that the goals we had in life, the great hopes, have simply melted away, caught fire, without me even knowing. All of it has worn away from within me. Otherwise, to accomplish these things, one would have to live for 60 or 70 years, die trying to fulfill them, and be reborn again. A person is reborn in samsara because they have unfulfilled desires within. That is why a person takes on a body again and has to suffer this pain. The reason you and I have met again in this life is not because we have realized that this is a dream, but because there are still unfulfilled desires. If we had realized it was a dream, we should have left long ago; this samsara would be over right now. There is nothing to be over. Can a lie have an end? When a lie is understood as a lie... it's not a question of it not being understood. No matter how many times we are told this is a teledrama, there is a belief somewhere that this is real. There is some doubt somewhere regarding this word of the Buddha. Because of that doubt somewhere, there is something underneath that still needs to be fulfilled. "There are things in this world that I haven't seen yet."

That is why in the Kālāma Sutta, the Buddha says that beyond what is seen, there is nothing that must be seen, and that one should not assume there is something unseen to be seen or a seer to see it. For us, it's not like that. We think, "There are things in the world I haven't seen yet. There are things I haven't experienced." There are things experienced and things not experienced. There are things in life yet to be seen, things yet to be heard. To experience those unseen things, one takes on a body again, takes on the six sense bases (āyatana) again. Meaning, to obtain that, again and again, one takes on the six sense bases. That means taking on a physical form (rūpa) again. And after taking on a form, to suffer in hospitals, getting sick, aging, decaying, experiencing the aggregate of feeling (vedanākkhandha). This is all due to craving (tanhā). We talk about the menstrual cycle, the pain of periods; one is unable to bear the aggregate of feeling, but still clings to it because of the craving (tanhā) within, this greediness for existence, this inner desire to continue to exist.

However, when faith (saddhā) in the Buddha's word arises in a person, they don't develop hatred towards existence. But, without them even knowing it, the desire for existence has vanished from within. It has worn away. That means faith has started to arise in them. Devotion has arisen, faith has arisen. As faith arises, the entire diary of their future has been burned. That diary has caught fire within them. They no longer have such a thing. They just live. Now think about this story... I don't know, if we have truly entered this monastic life, then we have nothing like that anymore. We have set fire to our diary. We set our diary on fire. Now, all we have is doing what needs to be done in the moment, for the moment. There is no target, no goal for us to reach. We wake up each day and live for that day. But we live to the fullest. We experience this to the fullest. We live completely here, in this. We experience this moment completely. But there is no target. We don't have a list of unfulfilled things to accomplish. Meaning, we have no desire for life. So, even if death comes, we enjoy that too. If the next thing is death, then we savor it. Just like drinking the morning tea. If we wake up today and what awaits is death, then just as we savored the morning tea, we wake up and enjoy death. Because we have nothing more to do within this. Within this... it means, in our story now, we are just enjoying this for fun, we are living for the joy of it. Other than that, we have no burden, no fear, nothing to lose in this, because we have this faith (saddhā) correctly.

Having faith means that the reality of this has been directly experienced by me. Therefore, I have faith in the Buddha's word. Not just in the Buddha's word, but I have faith in the Buddha's heart. If we say words, it can get stuck in concepts. More than the words, it is faith in that heart, in the awakening. So, if our inner state has reached such a place, then we have no doubt whatsoever about the Lord Buddha, the Dhamma, or the Sangha. There is only a single belief. There is only a single faith within.

Now, as I understand it, I will share an idea. After I started meditating, when I first heard a sermon about faith... when I first started meditating and heard a sermon from a teacher, the point that was told to me was that this path, in any case, begins with faith, as the Buddha said. Meaning, anyone who seeks the truth in this world cannot do so without having faith. It is said, saddhāya upasankamati (one approaches through faith). Saddham upasankamati. It means, for anyone to come seeking this truth, in a world that is chasing after sensual pleasures, they must definitely have some faith. If we didn't have faith, if we didn't have a belief, we wouldn't be here like this. At some level, we have a belief in this truth within us. It is because of that belief that you and I are here like this. Otherwise, we have no other kinship. There is no relationship between you and me like that between a husband and wife. You and I come together because of a kinship based on the need for something—the need for truth. The belief in that truth is within us. There is an inner belief in that truth. So the venerable thero points out... as I said, when I first went to meditate, in the first sermon I heard about faith, what was explained to me was, "It is because of this faith that you came here." One comes to a spiritual friend (kalyāṇa mitta), one feels like listening to the words of a spiritual friend, one feels like gathering with spiritual friends and practicing this Dhamma—all this means we must have that faith. Otherwise, the whole of Sri Lanka should come, shouldn't they? The whole world should gather to walk this path, but that doesn't happen. The world is still fond of existence. The world still has faith in Māra's existence. They have belief in the words of Māra.

So then, for us to take refuge in a Lord Buddha to this extent, for this belief to arise in us towards the Dhamma and the community of Sangha who have walked his path, it means that we too must have fulfilled some level of perfections (pāramī). Otherwise, an inclination, a liking, a faith (saddhā) for it would not arise. When we see a virtuous person, when we see a spiritual friend, we feel something in our hearts. Meaning, something is felt within our hearts when we see that spiritual friend, when we cultivate that Dhamma. So, a point that was made when I first went to meditate was that the specialty of the faith taught by the Lord Buddha is that one comes with faith, and this turns into a wholesome desire (kusala-chanda). A desire arises in us to try this out. Just coming to seek the truth is an act of faith. But after coming, the thought that one must practice this is also another form of faith. "I must train in this, I must cultivate this." It's not just the belief that there is a truth in life; a faith in wanting to practically try it out also arises in a person. That is a wholesome desire (kusala-chanda). The wholesome desire begins to arise in them.

When wholesome desire was mentioned, it was explained to me like this: Right, we feel the Lord Buddha, the truth, in our hearts. After that, what we have to do with faith is to practice his Dhamma. So, I was told, "To practice the Dhamma means you should practically cultivate the four foundations of mindfulness (satipatthāna)." "Cultivate the four foundations of mindfulness, but with faith." If you believe in the Lord Buddha, if you believe in his word, if you believe the word of the Blessed One, then in that word it says, ekāyano maggo sattānam visuddhiyā—the direct, one-way path for the purification of beings, for attaining Nibbāna, is satipatthāna. I was told to do it with that belief.

But here is the thing. That quality of believing, I feel, is somewhat lacking in everyone. This is what people like Kabir and Rumi say... many of those Sufi masters, they seek this truth, they seek this liberation, with immense belief, right? With so much love and belief. What they do is entirely... there's a place, I think it was Kabir... as he was seeking the truth... or maybe it was in a book by Kabir or Osho, I remember... a seeker goes to a sage to find the truth. When he goes to find the truth, the sage asks, "Have you ever loved anyone in your life?" "Oh, I don't do such foolish things. I don't do such foolish things at all. I want the truth." Then the sage says, "I cannot tell you the truth. Before I tell you the truth, you go and properly love someone. Go and be in love, then come back." Because a person without belief, even if they come seeking the truth, will be cunning. They won't do it with belief. They will do it with a business-like mind. A seeker of truth must believe in the truth. It is something that must be pursued with belief.

So, it is a person who has loved properly in worldly life who comes to faith (saddhā). Faith is not love. It is the belief in that Dhamma. But that belief does not come easily. In worldly life, they say they loved with belief, forgetting themselves. I remember the story says that the man either says, "I have loved," or he goes and loves a prostitute, completely forgetting himself. Then, no doubt arises in his mind. Because when you believe in someone completely... if I believe in you, then all I have is complete trust in you. I don't doubt you at all. Because the love I show you is a belief. I do it with belief. Doing it with belief doesn't mean tying them up wherever they go. It means that heart has that much belief. It is that pure, that clean, with absolutely no agenda. No theory. No agenda. Not even an expectation of a smile from the other person. Not even a thought of "Will they pay attention to me?" "Will they call me?" "Will they look at me?" "Will they thank me for what I am doing?" If any such feeling comes, we say there is no belief. That love is not done with belief. It is not a devout love. There is no devotion in that love, no belief in that love. That is why the sage says, "First, go and love properly in a worldly sense, believe, and then come back. Otherwise, how can you love something unseen so much? If you cannot even love what is seen, forgetting yourself and believing in it. If you cannot do that love with belief."

So, such a confused heart, such an impure heart... even when one goes to engage in worldly love, if one cannot do it with belief, if even that has an agenda, it means that person has not felt it. Then how can that love transform into devotion, into faith (saddhā)? There is no way for it to transform. Because that love... love happens between two individuals. But faith (saddhā) does not arise based on an individual. It's not based on a form. It allows the self to be let go of for that feeling in the heart, for that devotion, for that Dhamma that is felt. So think about it, only a person who has reached a certain level can do even that. So, if a person has loved someone by completely forgetting themselves, with belief, then its characteristic is that it will definitely direct them towards meditation next. Because when someone loves with belief, all they feel is a beautiful solitude. There is no joining, is there? When you believe, it doesn't lead to ownership, does it? When a person does worldly love with belief, their inner self becomes solitary. That solitude brings them devotion. They live with that solitude. With that loneliness, with that solitude, they don't try to fill it up. In that love... meaning, when one loves with belief, when one loves with adoration, that solitude eventually begins to transform into devotion for them.

So, if a person loved in such a way, with complete belief, and then you tell them to cultivate satipatthāna, they will cultivate satipatthāna with that same belief. There is no business of profit and loss, none of that. There is no doubt. The Buddha himself meditated even after becoming enlightened. Why? He did it even after Buddhahood. The results... meaning, the results are not needed. That is the characteristic of those who practice with belief. Meaning, someone who has properly loved in a worldly sense has nothing left inside. They have offered their life to love, that's it. Within that, did I get anything? Or not? Now, imagine if such a character of belief starts to cultivate satipatthāna, starts to practice. That person will do the practice in the same way they loved. How purely they loved, in that same pure way, they begin to cultivate the path to liberation. Then, they cultivate the path to liberation with that belief. With that quality of believing, they cultivate satipatthāna. Try it. Cultivate satipatthāna as an act of belief, with that quality of believing. Then it's very strange. From then on... we have this idea that a monk is "cultivating," right? So, look, when a person does it with belief... the teacher tells me, "Alright, the Blessed One has said to cultivate satipatthāna. Cultivate mindfulness (sati). Okay." When I hear that, that's it. Only those words. After being told to cultivate mindfulness, for a believer... I'm talking about someone who has loved with belief, who has lived their entire life as an act of belief... you tell them to cultivate satipatthāna. Their very nature is faith (saddhā). The nature of doing anything with belief, from the heart. They only heard those words. But then, they don't go on to measure profit and loss. They don't care about that. They were told to cultivate satipatthāna. Now, they cultivate mindfulness. They go on cultivating mindfulness. The teacher told them to be mindful. "Okay, now I was mindful." "While being mindful, I was told to be with the body. Now I am with the body, mindfully." While being mindful with the body, a doubt comes to the mind. The doubt came, that's all. A feeling of lust arises in me. The lust arose, that's all.

How does such a person report to the teacher when "cleansing the meditation subject"? This is the cleansing of a devotee's meditation subject. Understand this well. The teacher is cleansing the meditation subject of a devotee. The teacher asks, "How is the meditation?" "Venerable sir, you told me to be mindful, so I was mindful. Lust arose in me. I was mindful, aversion arose in me." That's it. That's all there is to it. It's over. Look at that. For a devotee, you just need to say the word. Do you need to teach them further or cleanse their meditation subject beyond that? Nothing is needed. They have faith (saddhā) in what is said. "You told me to cultivate mindfulness, so lust arose, and I knew lust arose. The mind went out, and I knew it went out." The person without faith says, "Venerable sir, I am fed up. Please teach me how to get rid of lust." Did the teacher say anything like that? They are on their own path. "I need to get rid of lust, I need to get rid of these things." They are not doing it with belief. They don't believe what is being said. Without believing what is said, they are trying to do something their own way. "Ugh, I can't do this, venerable sir, this isn't working for me. I'm just floating around. This is becoming so boring and unpleasant." They are trying to get rid of this, get rid of that, "do this for me." They don't listen with belief to what is said. They are trying to go to their own kind of Nibbāna. That is not necessary. They were told to be mindful.

So, imagine, if someone ever "cleansed" their meditation subject like that, their story is truly finished. They don't ask to get rid of anything. The teacher didn't tell them to get rid of lust, did he? He didn't say to get rid of aversion, did he? He didn't say to get rid of laziness, did he? He didn't tell them to get rid of suffering. They believe what was said. "Venerable sir, you told me to be mindful, so I was very mindful. Lust came. I was mindful. I was very lazy, and I was mindful." That's all. "Mindfulness was lost at these points, and it was lost." They report that too. Look, if that practice becomes that simple, how easy would it be? For that faithful person, that word is enough to attain Nibbāna. It's done. He doesn't ask how to get rid of this, how to get rid of ego, how to get rid of that, how to make those things void, or how to get rid of anger. He doesn't ask any of that. He has devotion in it. He was told... "Now I understand. You told me to be mindful. So, I was mindful of every state as much as I could. I felt those states in this way and that way." That's all for him. "My hearing has improved. I can hear people shouting more clearly than before. I can feel everything better than before. I feel hunger." Look, do you understand the words I am saying? Within the "cleansing" of a devotee's meditation, they don't ask, "How do I get rid of that? How do I get rid of this?" They just do what was said, that's it.

The one with doubt (vicikicchā) says, "I can't do this. Will this work? Look, my lust is still the same. Where is that wisdom they talk about? Why don't I have it yet?" They have doubt. Why? They are comparing. It's not devotion that comes. It's not about submitting to what is said and cultivating mindfulness with faith (saddhā). They go and analyze it, and analyze it, comparing this with that, that with this, and then their head gets all confused. Their doubt is too great.

If they understand, "I heard a certain word. After hearing that word, day by day, my burdens are getting lighter. I realize that I used to run after these things, but now everything feels like just an event happening at that moment," then that's enough. Instead of asking, "Does what you are saying fit with that Arahat's teaching? Will this make me a Brahma? Will that happen?"... if one just witnesses it with one's own heart, instead of some book one doesn't even know, the problem is over. The word is felt in one's heart. After it is felt in the heart, if I am told to do something, I do it with my heart. But when I do it with my heart, I do it like that love, without any expectation. I do it with belief. I continue to do it with my heart. As I continue to do it, I realize that, just like before, I am becoming more aware of every state of my mind. But I understand, why did I start to feel all of this? Because the teacher told me to be mindful, and I was mindful. By being mindful, I felt all this more clearly than before. The teacher didn't tell me to get rid of this, or to get rid of that, or to fight with that. He didn't say anything like that. As mindfulness (sati) grows, one begins to understand that those objects of mind disappear right then and there. I don't try to destroy the anger that comes, or the sorrow that comes. I don't try to hold on to it either. Because my only duty is to be awake as much as possible. To be a witness. To be present. That's all. That's all I was told. Then, does my mindfulness break? That's not a problem for me either. I become mindful of the fact that it broke. "Here I was with the body, and now I've gone on a trip somewhere." The moment I know I went on a trip, that itself is mindfulness. I was only told to be mindful, right? I wasn't told to stay with the breath. "The mind went out." I was mindful of it. The job is done.

Look how easy this story is for a faithful person, for a devotee. If one does what is said with belief, if one does it with one's own belief, with devotion, one doesn't get into unnecessary things, creating one's own analyses and methods, making it so difficult. One doesn't go into one's own analyses, comparing this book with that book, "Will this work with that?" Doubts don't arise. Because as they cultivate mindfulness, they feel their suffering ceasing within. That's enough for them. They came to end suffering, not to become a professor. "After I came, I heard many different philosophies. That's not a problem. But that's not why I came. I hear them, that's not a problem. But my purpose was to end my suffering. A belief arose in me. I was told to cultivate mindfulness. As I kept doing it, I wasn't told to get rid of anything. I was only told to cultivate mindfulness, to be mindful." So when I am unable to be mindful, then doubt comes to me. When doubt comes, what happens? No problem. "I am mindful of the doubt about being mindful." The problem is over. If I were told to get rid of doubt, that would be impossible for me. "I have doubt, and I am mindful of the doubt." That's it. I hope you understand what I am saying. There is no problem. When there is doubt, there is doubt. When there is no doubt, there is no doubt. I was told to be mindful. So I was mindful, "Here it comes, here it goes. Here it is." That's all. Is it a problem?

Do you see how easy this path is for a devotee, in a world that makes things so complicated and difficult? How joyfully a devotee walks this path? That's why I said, a devotee... it's a joy for them. They just do what is said, without trying to reach their old targets, or checking if they are close to their goals, or comparing with books. If they are told to be mindful, they just ask what mindfulness is, and that's it.

So, we were talking about getting rid of doubt. The Buddha says in the contemplation of dhammas (dhammānupassanā), to know doubt as doubt, to know restlessness as restlessness. That's in the section on the hindrances (nīvaraṇa). In the practice of satipatthāna within the contemplation of dhammas, there is no problem with that. Just watch it. There's really no problem. We don't have a big job to do. It's very simple. At that moment, that state was known. If asked, "Today, this part caught my mindfulness. This weakness was caught. This shortcoming was there." That's all. "If you tell me to do something, I will. But my duty is not to do things. I was only told to know it." To be awake to that state at all times. Not to choose, not to push away, not to try to get rid of it, not to ask how to get rid of it. That's just me getting involved again.

So, I think this is the way. The ten armies of Māra... to break this thing called doubt, faith (saddhā) must come. Through faith, we must know mindfulness (sati). But we must come to mindfulness through belief, through devotion. If we don't come to mindfulness through devotion, we are not doing what is said. We are not doing what the teacher says, but rather, "Oh, I need to get rid of these things. These are not good." Then the battle starts. The war with doubt begins. That's why I said mindfulness is good. But if it comes with faith, it's even better. If mindfulness grows through one's quality of belief... Now, someone might ask, "So, the analytical path is wrong?" No, the analytical path is not wrong. You can go and see for yourself. Go through it. But then, go through it with faith. Then it becomes the path of faith (saddhā-māgga). So, if you like, you can go on that path. If you want to go on a path of practicing something on your own and then saying, "Okay, I got it," then go with belief. If you realize, "By believing these words, I feel something. I feel that these words are true in my heart," then, through that belief, you descend into it. Then, when I submit to it through belief, my thinking and my mindfulness will be in line with what is said. Then I won't go to my own desires and say, "Oh, that hasn't happened yet. This hasn't happened yet. I haven't become an Arahat yet."

Like Venerable Anuruddha, who came to the Buddha... no, to the great Arahat Sāriputta, and said, "Venerable sir, I have meditated a lot and I have powers. But when I look at you, I don't have the liberation that you have. But I have meditated a lot. I have the divine eye (dibba-cakkhu) and I can see the world systems. I also have the energy to meditate until dawn. I have good energy, the divine eye. But venerable sir, I still haven't attained Nibbāna. I have the strength to meditate until dawn. I have the stamina. I have energy (viriya), mindfulness (sati), and concentration (samādhi). I even have the divine eye. But I haven't attained Nibbāna." Then the great Arahat Sāriputta said, "Anuruddha, you have a great conceit (māna) in you that you have the divine eye. Just because you see some lights, you think it's the divine eye. That's conceit. And you think you have the energy to meditate until dawn, to listen to the Dhamma. That's just the restlessness of the mind. And the fact that you think you haven't attained Nibbāna, that is your doubt (vicikicchā). Your doubt, your conceit, your restlessness... " As he was saying this, Anuruddha's faith arose. "So all this time, what I thought were virtues were actually defilements." Devotion in the word came.

That's why, for faith (saddhā) to arise, there also needs to be some wisdom (viññāna). When it is pointed out, one must be able to quickly submit to it. "So all this time, I had this conceit that I had the divine eye, that I had more stamina than others to listen to the Dhamma and meditate. And that I hadn't attained Nibbāna." He had created a target for himself and was trying to reach it. He had created some idea of Nibbāna. So, the one who walks the path of mindfulness, rather than trying to get rid of things, understands. They have the quality of believing, they have belief.

Let's say, as they cultivate this path of liberation... I feel that this path to liberation (moksha) is something that cannot be walked without belief. That's how I understand this story so far. Because as one cultivates this path of liberation to a certain extent, I realize that certain things begin to happen to us. There comes a point where my faith, my belief, is tested. "Are you really doing this with your whole heart?" The Teacher... meaning, "I have no other refuge than the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha." We say that, don't we? "There is no other refuge for me." We say, "The Blessed One is my only refuge in life, the Dhamma, the great Sangha." We say this when we ordain. "I have given my whole life. I don't need anything else but to be ordained for the sake of Nibbāna." That is an immense devotion, a great faith. We say, "For the sake of ending all suffering and realizing Nibbāna, please give me this ochre robe and ordain me." We are not lying when we say that, are we? We say it with our whole heart. Meaning, "I have no other aspirations, no hidden agendas, no worldly aspirations to become someone important, or to create a network of worldly connections. I don't need any of that. Just to end all suffering and attain liberation (moksha), give me this robe. I don't need to join you for anything else. Give me this armor, the robe worn by the Lord Buddha, the robe worn by the Arahats, give it to me, just for that same liberation." That is our faith (saddhā). "I have no other refuge now. Only the refuge of the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha."

I think that what we say three times when we ordain... "I go to the Buddha for refuge, I go to the Dhamma for refuge, I go to the Sangha for refuge, for the second time, for the third time." We don't just say it once. We say it three times. And after saying it three times, we also undertake the precepts (sīla). Meaning, "Now my only refuge is the precepts and the Triple Gem. And the fact that I have honestly given my life to you, to the spiritual friends." That is my devotion. I think it is this devotion that is constantly being tested. "Did I really say 'Buddham saranam' from the depths of my being, or did I just say it at that moment?" "Did I say it with complete belief?" I took refuge three times. I said three times that I don't want anything else in life. And I asked for this only for the sake of my Nibbāna. Then I took the precepts and said that my only refuge is the precepts I have undertaken. For an ordained monk, it is the higher ordination precepts that they have taken with their whole heart. After that, they observe the precepts with belief, not just for the sake of it. If they do, it won't last long. I tell some people, "If you can, try to observe the precept of not eating after midday, with belief." We give food in the evening for other reasons, but if you can, observe that precept with belief. Don't go for meals, just have some medicinal juices. Some people, even when told, break it. But some are not like that. I see some who still have faith in what was said. "My precepts are my only refuge. I undertook a set of precepts when I was ordained." If they can't believe in that... it means they are not doing this work with devotion. They are observing the precepts just because they took them, not with belief, not with faith (saddhā). They have taken refuge in the Triple Gem, but just for the sake of it. They don't truly believe in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha. They are not with the teacher with belief. They haven't given their life. They are not observing the precepts with belief.

I think if this belief is not there... that's why the Blessed One explains, "Saddhā bījam..." (Faith is the seed...). Everything is done on the basis of faith as the seed. If that is lost, those people are thrown away. If that belief is not there, if faith doesn't come, if they don't remember the promise they made of giving their life to the Triple Gem... we did it with love, didn't we? Nobody forced us into it like putting us in jail. We did it willingly, with our own hearts. If we constantly remember that... I think if we lose that faith we have in the Blessed One, the respect and faith we have in the Dhamma and the Sangha, and in the precepts... A stream-enterer (sotāpanna) only has these four, right? A stream-enterer has unshakable faith in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha, and the noble precepts (ariyakānta-sīla). That's all. The precepts they have undertaken. That's all that is inside a stream-enterer. With the breaking of the first three fetters, they have unshakable faith in the Triple Gem and their noble precepts.

So I say, always check. "After I ordained or came here, do I still have that quality of having taken refuge with my whole heart? If my teacher at one time gave me the precepts and told me to observe this, I would rather die than break it." There's a story of a monk in the hospital who was told to take food because of his medication. He said to ask his teacher. And his teacher, Ñāṇārāma Mahāthera, said, "You have eaten enough in samsara. Now you're going to eat again? Tell him to just drink the medicine without food." That's all. It sounds like the military to us, very strict. But I think, for him, if those words were given, that was enough. He let go from there. He is living with belief. From there, the story of "Will I get thin? Will I get sick?" is irrelevant. Because he didn't come to protect his life. If that was the case, he would be in a comfortable place. They are people who have already given up their lives. They have given their lives to liberation (moksha). After giving their lives to liberation, at some point, it is faith, as I see it, that is tested. On one side, I have belief in the Triple Gem. On the other side, the world of sensual pleasures that I was fond of appears to me. So, which one will you choose? The world of sensual pleasures that I was fond of is there. The things that I had a little desire for are shown to me on this side. On this side, I have my belief. So, will I really choose belief? Will I choose devotion? Will I hold on to the faith I had in the Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha, and the precepts? Or will I break the precepts, break my belief, and take refuge in my greedy, craving, ghostly mind? Will I take refuge in my greedy, ghostly mind, breaking the precepts, breaking my love for the Teacher?

I think, as one cultivates this path of liberation, it's not that sensual desire (kāma) doesn't come. It's not that one's desires don't come. But what happens? In the face of that devotion, everything starts to fall away. That faith cannot be surpassed anywhere. Faith is something that is felt in the heart. It's not just words. Devotion... you can't say it is located in a particular place. It's something I feel with my heart. As I feel it in my heart, I observe the precepts with that love that is felt in the heart. Towards the Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha, towards all of the Triple Gem, and the precepts, I have that belief. As I continue with that belief, I begin to see that my sensual desire falls away in the face of that belief. It's like a bird caught in a strong wind. It gets crushed. In the same way, sensual desire comes to me. Desires come to me. After the desires come a certain distance, my heart, that devotion comes, my faith comes, and in the face of that faith, my sensual desire shatters on its own. My defilements break apart like this. So, what we have is a shedding. My sensual desire is shed, my aversion is shed, my arrogance... all the big scenes we used to make... we were a bunch of people who wouldn't even care if another person farted. We are at the level of being like "tough guys." If you knew how we were on the outside, you'd wonder, "Why should we bow down to anyone?" But that greatness, that arrogance (māna), all of it, in the face of that devotion (bhakti)—that is, the devotion that arises in the heart towards the Teacher (Sāstṛ), the Dhamma, the Sangha, the teacher, the spiritual friends (kalyāṇa mitta)—in the face of that devotion, my stubborn traits, my fierce traits, what we call being a "nuisance" or a "wayward person" outside... at home they say, "Oh, what a great nuisance, what a stubborn person"... all of that, just like rust dissolving in salt water... in the devotion that is like salt water, in the faith that is somewhere, my stubborn traits, my sensual desire (kāma), my aversion (dvesha), my harsh, "I don't care about anything" fierceness—all of it begins to soften, like a small child. One becomes more and more like an innocent, like a baby deer. We don't even recognize ourselves. In the face of that faith (saddhā), in the face of that love, in the face of that faith, we ourselves feel all our fierceness being shed and falling away. All of it begins to dissolve.

Then we understand, it's not that sensual desire (kāma) is absent. There is a state of shedding. In the face of faith, it's all over. The things to be possessed, the tendency to go and possess things—all of that, at some point, in the face of that devotion, it's as if... when one hears the Buddha's word, when one goes near the teacher, it's as if everything is finished. When the word is heard, when that word is heard, something is felt in the heart... that word creates a love so deep that one could dissolve with it. Meaning, the word is heard. As the word is heard, it's like we are bathed in a cool stream of water, we become so loving. In the face of that word, I completely... I realize that all the arrogance and greatness I had, in front of that teacher, in front of those words, in front of the Teacher's words, I begin to realize that all of that fierce nature, at some point, suddenly vanishes. It goes away without being noticed. It's like it evaporates. It's almost unimaginable, what suddenly happened to all those old thoughts. I can't even understand it. "What is happening to me?" That is their belief. That is their faith (saddhā). That is the spiritual heart they have developed. That is their spiritual heart that has grown. One cannot do anything against it. In the face of it... that's why I said, in the face of that heart, one is like a very innocent child. Very humble, very loving. One could give away one's life, even one's neck, to anyone in the face of that faith, in the face of that belief. When hearing those words, when seeing that form. A heart that does not belong to that form, nor to those sounds, is felt from somewhere.

That is why we say you cannot say faith is located "here." Nor can you say it is not "here." But I feel that heart of faith. As I remain with that heart, my sensual desire begins to be shed. Truly, I myself begin to be shed. Not "me," but my burden. The burden of what I have taken to be "me" begins to dissolve. In the face of that faith, I am filled with joy and delight. It's like when one has just fallen in love. As that faith grows, its characteristic is delight (pamudita). One is very joyous (pāmojja). One is filled with joy. A devotee... they are filled with joy. In doubt, what comes is that fed-up, heavy feeling.

Let us conclude for today then. May all of you have the refuge of the Triple Gem (Theruwan Saranai).

Original Source (Video):

Title: සත්‍යය කෙරෙහි විශ්වාසය තියන්න - Ven Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | නිහඬ අරණ

https://youtu.be/-kTfkyPkWb4?si=UUixdS2RneUfDnwB

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