As the Buddha said, in this Dharma-Ending Age, monks are not monks. Maybe some are not real monks. Some are wearing colorful jiāshā (Kāṣāya or monks’ robes), just like the Buddha said – that these fake monks like to wear colorful jiāshās. Fake monks also eat (animal-people) meat and drink alcohol, gamble – all kinds of things the so-called monks are doing nowadays. And molesting children, molesting women and man. It’s all over the Internet. Oh, I wish I never had made that discovery. Oh, it really feels so disturbing. I wish I hadn’t known all this. I hadn’t known all this for all these decades since I came out to do my mission. And I heard even recently, somewhere it said that the Catholic monks committed more of those sins, molesting children, or doing same-sex marriage, molesting women, men and all that.
I said Buddhists don’t have that. I rarely heard it. Oh my God, I was so wrong. I was so wrong. I said that because the Buddhist monks have 250 precepts, so it’s not possible. It’s very detailed about all kinds of moral principles you have to keep, so Buddhist monks could not do any sexual harassment or molest other faithful or other monks and nuns. Oh my God, I was so wrong. I did not read too much on the Internet. I never did want to. Just recently, I wanted to know about peace in the world and so I opened that and the Pandora’s box all came out, tumbling down, falling out all over. I wish I didn’t have to know all this. It really disturbed me too much. It broke my illusion. I read that the Buddha said that the Mara will send his children to be monks and nuns and use all this kind of monks’ robes and dress in style to destroy Buddha’s teaching.
“When Shakyamuni Buddha was about to enter nirvana, he summoned the demon king and commanded him, ‘You should abide by the rules. Follow the rules from now on. Don’t violate them.’ The demon king replied, ‘So you want me to follow your rules? Fine. During the ending age of your dharma, I will wear your garments, eat your food, and defecate in your alms bowl.’ His meaning was that he would destroy the dharma from within. When the Buddha heard that he was worried. He wept and said, ‘There’s really nothing I can do about you. Your method is the most poisonous, the most destructive.’” ~ A Commentary by the Venerated Master Hsuan Hua (vegetarian) of The Shurangama Sutra
And the Buddha cried. My goodness. The Buddha is so sensitive, so loving, so kind. He even cried when He saw a woman’s bones. After they die, the women’s bones are black, not like the white bones from the men, because the women have monthly loss of blood, have children, and take care of children and husband and the household and all that. So their bodies are not as healthy. After death, all their bones become black, and Buddha cried in front of a big, huge pile of women’s bones. You see how loving, kind, and compassionate the Buddha is. How can anybody who follows Him not have enough respect for Him to keep His doctrine and to teach righteousness, moral conduct, and even compassion? I hardly hear any monks nowadays talking about compassion, trying to teach their followers to emphasize the love that the Buddha wants people to keep, to nourish, to mature in, and to live in love.
Now I asked some questions concerning the four sentences that the Saints of Cao Đài-ism measured on Huệ Bửu. I said, “Why did You tell me then?” They said because I have more means to publicize this to Their global believers, to make the world people know, more than just for the ordinary Cao Đài faithful. They told me that the inner world wants people to know.
And then I said, “But he praised me before. Maybe it’s a mistake. He made a mistake or something?” They said, “No, he did it on purpose.” He “twisted everything just to suit his desire, his lowly ambition,” but he made it all messy. I think he doesn’t have enough wisdom. He just wants to have the title, but then what would he do with it for the world anyway? All these decades he just ate and slept and did not do much, just relied on Cao Đài-ism to survive and maybe talking to outside people to make offerings to him. And now he wants the title.
So I said, “Why did he praise me before then?” When I first saw that, I thought, “Oh, he’s such a good, wise person. Who is he?” But I didn’t have time to check out much about him. So later, I asked my disciples to find out, and they said to me, “Oh, Huệ Bửu is one of the mediums in Cao Đài-ism.” And then I knew. I said, “Oh, he is Cao Đài; why does he praise me? They should praise their own Saints.” Because Cao Đài-ism is a very enlightening religion. It’s symbolized by the eye in the middle of the forehead. That we all know. It’s the third eye, Eye of Wisdom, Eye of the Soul.
The Cao Đài-ism Founder saw the Eye in one of His visions while He was on the beach of the ocean. But it’s not like He saw it on the beach, it’s just that He was tuned in at that time. Even if He saw the ocean in front of Him, He was already tuned in with the inside higher inner world, with the Saints and Sages Who showed Him a vision, showed Him some teaching through the vision; meaning, emphasizing that people, the faithful, should concentrate on the third eye while they are doing meditation, praising or worshiping. Because the third eye is where you should concentrate. That we also teach during the Quan Yin Method initiation.
So I said, “Then, why did he (Huệ Bửu) have to praise me? For what?” At that time, I didn’t read much of his writings on the Internet. I just read one time that he praised me and like sympathized with me. I was surprised and touched. I said, “Why did he have to do that?” So His Majesty the Cao Đài King actually told me then, “Because Huệ Bửu wants Your disciples...” What He said exactly, I put it in quotation marks: “Because Huệ Bửu wants Your disciples to trust him, then he will later on have more strategy to take over Your Mission, which You built with sweat and tears. He claimed to be even Your master before, in the past lives, which is all fake.” This is what all the Saints told me: “For that same reason – because he wants to take over Your Mission, which You built with all Your Love and Labor. And he wants to take it over, because he wants to have more power, more fame, more people offering to him.”
This event makes me remember one of my childhood stories. I was only about eight; very, very young, and still in primary school. I wrote some poems, of course. And one day, I wrote a poem, kind of one page long, in which I used all the subjects in the school to weave into poetry. And it was very beautiful and very exact, very accurate about school, about all the subjects we learn and things that happened, or what the teacher said and in what class and all that. But then, I lost it. I went to a neighbor’s house for something, and I lost it because I probably had my schoolbook with me, and that paper was separate. I took out one paper and wrote it on there. And I lost it. I didn’t know I lost it there, actually. But later on, I knew I lost it there. So, when I came home, I couldn’t find it; I didn’t know where to find it, so it was OK. What to do?
One day, I went back to that neighbor’s house again. That neighbor’s house was very kind, actually. They had three children, one eldest boy, I think he was already in high school, one middle girl and another younger girl. And I happened to see my poem on the desk of that boy. So, I said, “Oh, you found it. It’s my poem. Can I have it back now?” So, he looked at me sternly, like frightening me: “No! It’s my poem, not yours.” I said, “No, no, it’s my poem. You can see I wrote it. I know it.” He said, “No, it’s not yours. Stop saying it.” And I said, “But it’s mine. You can see my handwriting. It’s not your writing.” He said, “No, it’s my poem. Now you get lost, or else.”
He looked very fierce. I was so scared, so I left. What else could I do? It was my writing! My poem. And he said it was his. And later, he took it to win a prize from the school, because that was a very good school poem. It described all the subjects we learned in the classes, from the lowest one to the highest in primary school. And until now, I just remember that – what it was all about. But I don’t remember one sentence from that poem. It’s lost forever. And that boy won a prize. I don’t know what prize. It’s probably one of the good literary prizes. You see, it’s very similar now. I’m still bullied, even though I’ve grown up already.
Photo Caption: Who Can Tell Here Who R the More Beautiful – Green Bug or Flower!
