when he could no longer walk at all did he stop going for alms.
Even then, he continued to eat just one meal a day, which he took
in his alms bowl. The rest of us had to respect his wishes each
time. We were all amazed at the endurance of this noble sage
who, refusing to forsake his fighting spirit, conceded nothing to
the kilesas.
As for the rest of us, we would probably be so dispirited at
the very first sign of sickness that someone would have to carry
us to the refectory to eat. It is truly disgraceful: the kilesas always
laughing at us as we lie hopelessly on their chopping block, wait-
ing for them to shred us to pieces like so much raw meat. What
a pathetic sight! Here we are full-fledged human beings willingly
putting ourselves at the mercy of the kilesas. All of us who carry
this shame on our conscience should stop and reflect on Ãcariya
Mun’s mode of practice. We can then adopt it to safeguard us in
our struggle with these defilements. In that way, we will always
remain faithful to our Buddhist principles – instead of just being
the kilesas’ whipping boys.
Eventually, Ãcariya Mun’s condition became so serious that
the rest of us felt obliged to undertake certain precautions. We
quietly arranged for groups of three or four monks to keep a vigil
every night sitting beneath his hut. We arranged this ourselves
without informing him, though he may have been intuitively
aware of it. We were concerned he might forbid us to do it, rea-
soning that it was a burden on the monks and thus an unneces-
sary nuisance. Every night small groups of monks took turns, sit-
ting silently beneath his hut in continuous shifts that lasted until
dawn. Each group stayed for several hours until it was replaced by
the next. This routine was already well established by the begin-
jacob rumans
(Jacob Rumans)
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