ing dead are hardly worthy of admiration’.”After Ãcariya Mun finished speaking, a certain monk in the audi-
ence thought to himself that persevering to the point of pass-
ing out was excessive: If I have to reach the point where I pass out,
unconscious, I don’t want to go to Nibbãna yet. I’ll just put up with
the pain and suffering of this world like everyone else. I’ve got lots of
company. If going to Nibbãna means pushing oneself to the extent of
passing out, then whoever wants to go is welcome to do so, but I’m not
going – that’s for sure. Life in the world is surely painful, but not nearly
as painful as being rendered unconscious. Besides, if we have to pass
out before we can attain Nibbãna that means there’s not much differ-
ence between Nibbãna and a drug-induced coma. Who wants that? I
certainly don’t. I have no desire to pass out. Just seeing someone else
faint scares me to death, let alone having it happen to me.
Before long Ãcariya Mun began speaking again, this time
in heated tones that penetrated forcibly into the monk’s reverie.
“You don’t believe me, huh? Do you think I’m lying to you
just for fun, or what? If you do not trust me, please leave!
Why stay here being a burden on this monastery? I did not
invite you to come here – you came on your own, so you
should leave on your own. Don’t wait to be thrown out! It’s
useless for you to stay here anyway – the Buddha’s teaching
wasn’t proclaimed for idiots like you! Your way of thinking is
entirely inappropriate for a monk wearing the yellow robes.
A Buddhist monk is one who puts his faith in Dhamma. But
since your ideas contradict the Lord Buddha’s path to liber-
ation, it is obvious that you don’t trust me or the Dhamma.