戒殺是息刀兵之本
A series of four public lectures on vegetarianism, karma, and non-violence, delivered to a lay audience in Taiwan. The speaker — a Buddhist teacher addressing practitioners and guests — builds a sustained argument across four sessions: that the violence of war originates in the killing of animals, that karma connects the slaughterhouse to the battlefield, and that the only root solution to the catastrophe of war is to stop killing. The lectures draw on Buddhist scripture, Chinese history, Confucian ethics, and modern international animal welfare movements to make a case that is at once traditional and strikingly cosmopolitan.
The text belongs to the Yiguandao morality book (善書) tradition, published through the 善書圖書館 (Morality Book Library) at taolibrary.com. Its register is vernacular and conversational — a teacher speaking directly to an audience, marshaling parables and logic to persuade, not to command. The four lectures progress from the karmic origins of war, through the transformability of karma, to the spiritual crime of killing, and finally to the modern international vegetarian and animal protection movements — an arc that moves from ancient India to twentieth-century Europe.
This is the first English translation. Translated from Classical and vernacular Chinese by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Gospel register.
Lecture One — Abstaining from Killing is the Root of Ending War
Respected teachers, honored guests, fellow practitioners: tonight is the first time I have come to speak with you on the teachings of the Buddha. I ask for your kind guidance and correction. We human beings, living in this world, find that one kind of suffering has not yet ended before another arrives. We are pressed on all sides by the eight sufferings, and the pain is beyond description. But beyond these eight, there are still more — undefined sufferings, like the catastrophe of war. Where do we even begin?
A. The Origin of War
We must first understand: where does all this suffering come from? Nothing exists apart from cause and effect. We planted the causes of the eight sufferings in the past, and now we reap the fruits. Once you understand the relationship between cause and effect, you know that the catastrophe of war is also a kind of karmic result. But some people do not believe that all things follow the law of cause and effect, because they have not studied the Buddha's teaching, and so they reject the principle. If they don't believe in cause and effect, then what do they think causes war? Let them try to explain it. Very well — let us trace the matter to its root and see what the true cause of war really is.
B. Ordinary Wisdom Sees Only the Present
You should know that the way ordinary people see the world is fundamentally different from how the sages see it. Ordinary people see it in two ways. The first says that war is caused by imperialist aggressors who seek to conquer the world. The second says that war comes from ambitious men within a country who disturb the peace, rebel against the state, and start civil conflict. Ordinary people believe these two are the causes of war. In truth, these are not the root causes — they are merely contributing conditions.
"If war is just the condition, then where is the cause?" This is something ordinary people cannot understand. Only the sages, with their higher wisdom, can perceive it.
C. The Sages See the Past
Only the Buddha's teaching can explain this clearly. Let me give a comparison: when you plant a fruit seed in the ground, that is the cause. When the seed sprouts, grows, and the fruit ripens, that is the result. The contributing conditions are the things that help it grow — water, sunlight, fertilizer. You need both cause and conditions to produce a result. Seeing the fruit, you know the seed; seeing a melon, you know it came from a melon seed. Today's catastrophe of war is likewise the fruit of past karmic causes.
The fruit of war is the fruit of killing. And its cause, naturally, is the cause of killing — with the contributing conditions of imperialists and ambitious men bringing it to fruition. But this kind of cause is invisible to ordinary people. Only the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas can perceive it. This is not empty talk or speculation. The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas possess the divine eye. They see the karmic causes and fruits of war with perfect clarity. They know that since the beginning of time, sentient beings have never ceased their killing. And killing takes two forms: direct and indirect. The butcher who slaughters the pig, the sheep, the ox — that is direct killing. But because we demand meat every day, the butcher kills for us — and that is indirect killing. These two together form the cause of killing.
D. Who Bears the Greater Guilt
"From what you say, the direct killer bears the heavier sin, and the indirect killer — the one who eats the meat — bears the lighter one. Is that right?" Most people assume this, but it is wrong. Even under government law, crimes are divided into principal and accessory. The principal is the one who acts; the accessory is the accomplice. But when it comes to killing animals, who is the principal and who is the accessory? It depends on the situation. When the butcher slaughters a pig and brings it to market on his own initiative, he is the principal and the buyer is the accessory. But when the meat sells out and buyers keep coming, and the butcher kills again to meet the demand, then the buyer becomes the principal and the butcher becomes the accessory. As the cause, so the result — each receives their own.
People today are less willing to believe in karmic retribution than people of old. In former times, even butchers feared it. When a butcher was about to kill a pig, he would mutter: "Pig, oh pig, don't blame me — you are just a dish for the table. If they don't eat, I don't slaughter. Go collect your debt from the ones who eat you!" You see? Even the butcher fears the pig will come to collect. But who exactly must pay — the one who eats, or the one who kills? The old saying is apt: "Every debt has its debtor, every grievance has its source." The one who eats receives the retribution for eating; the one who kills receives the retribution for killing.
E. The Horrors of War
Now that we understand the cause of war, let us consider: how terrible is it, really? Some of you have seen it with your own eyes, but time erodes the memory. Others have never seen it at all and cannot imagine the horror. Let me describe four aspects of war's devastation.
Killing. In ancient times, after a city fell, civilians died alongside soldiers. The invaders would slaughter everyone — the infamous "massacre of the city." Some may say: that was the past; we don't have city massacres today. But modern warfare is three-dimensional and even more devastating. One nation builds atomic bombs, and another does the same. I ask you: what is the purpose of these weapons? Are they meant to sit in warehouses forever? If a single atomic bomb falls from the sky, no one can guarantee they will not die in the fire.
Arson. War brings fire — incendiary bombs, napalm. Once the flames catch, you either burn to death or lose everything you own.
Family destruction. To escape the killing, you flee, and your household is shattered. Think of our compatriots from the mainland, who had vast farmlands and great fortunes. War made them abandon everything and come to Taiwan with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Separation. When the shells come, you grab one child with each hand and run. The roads and train stations are packed beyond belief. The train departs and you hear your children crying behind you, but there is nothing you can do. Father, mother, wife, children, siblings — all scattered. This is what war looks like.
Our mainland compatriots understand this better than most. For thirty or forty years before the retreat, China was wracked by warlord battles and the Sino-Japanese War — planes dropping bombs, homes destroyed, families annihilated. Even some native Taiwanese have tasted this suffering. The catastrophe of war has not yet arrived here — but the causes have been accumulating for ages, and when the conditions ripen, it will explode. Before the conditions ripen, there is still time to prevent it. But most people do not believe in the karmic cause of war, and so there is little anyone can do.
Let me quote the verse of the eminent Chan Master Cishou, which proves that the karmic relationship between killing and war is not the slightest bit mistaken:
The world is full of killing —
And so the sword-calamity comes.
Those whose lives you took now take your life;
Those whose wealth you owed now burn your home.
Your wife and children scattered —
For you once destroyed their nests.
Retribution matches retribution;
Wash your ears and hear what the Buddha says.
F. Master Cishou's Verse Explained
The first two lines — "The world is full of killing, and so the sword-calamity comes" — state the cause and the result. The first line is the cause: the world is full of killing. The second line is the result: therefore the catastrophe of war arises.
The ancients said: "Harmony brings fortune; cruelty brings disaster." Harmony is auspicious and good. Cruelty is inauspicious — the wronged spirits come to collect. The butcher's chant asks the pig to collect from the eaters, because the debt has gone too long unpaid. And what do the spirits collect? War itself.
If you still do not believe, let me offer a historical case.
A Monk in Meditation Sees the Karma of Anyang. During the reign of Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty, the northern Jin armies swept south, burning and slaughtering everything in their path. The town of Anyang in Henan suffered the worst. At that time, a senior monk in Anyang possessed the ability to perceive karmic causes through meditation. The people of Anyang, bewildered by the scale of their suffering, went to ask the monk why the disaster was so terrible. The monk told them: "Because the people of Anyang have created more killing karma than any other place, the war-calamity here is correspondingly worse than anywhere else. But the karmic retribution for your killing is not yet exhausted — more war will come. Repent quickly and stop killing, and you may reduce the severity of what is to come." But the people of Anyang did not believe him. They went on killing as before. And year after year, the fires of war continued, and the people of Anyang were slaughtered again and again, until at last they believed the monk had been right — but by then it was too late. This case proves: killing is the cause, and war is the fruit.
The third and fourth lines of the verse say: "Those whose lives you took now take your life; those whose wealth you owed now burn your home." Because you killed their lives, they come to kill yours. Because you owed them debts and never repaid, they burn your house and destroy your wealth. These two lines describe the law of karmic retribution. When cause meets condition, the fruit ripens. If you want to avert disaster, you must act before the fruit ripens. Once it has ripened, there is no remedy. If you do not believe this, let me tell another story.
King Virudhaka Destroys the Shakya Clan. When Shakyamuni Buddha was alive, King Virudhaka led a great army against the city of Kapilavastu. Before the battle began, the Buddha himself went to see Virudhaka and tried to negotiate a peaceful resolution, but no agreement could be reached. The Buddha instructed the Shakya clan only to defend, never to attack. When Virudhaka's soldiers breached the city, they massacred the inhabitants. The Buddha's disciples all begged him to intervene.
At that moment, the great Maudgalyayana, possessor of vast supernatural powers, used the Buddha's alms bowl to gather three thousand members of the Shakya clan and lifted them up to heaven, thinking he had saved them all. But when King Virudhaka's war ended and Maudgalyayana brought the bowl back down and opened it, the three thousand people inside had turned to blood.
Maudgalyayana asked the Buddha to explain this terrible karmic disaster. The World-Honored One said: "This is fixed karma, impossible to alter. Many lifetimes ago, near Kapilavastu there was a fishing village with a great fish pond. The villagers caught and ate every fish in the pond, down to the very last — a great fish, which they also killed and ate. Only one child had never eaten any fish. But that child struck the great fish three times on the head, just for fun."
The Buddha continued: "That great fish is now King Virudhaka. The small fish are now his soldiers. The villagers who ate the fish are now the Shakya people who have been slaughtered. And that child who never ate the fish but struck the great fish three times on the head — that child was me. Because of those three strikes, I now have a headache for three days."
Think about this: even the Buddha could not escape his own fixed karma. Once the fruit has ripened, it cannot be undone.
The fifth and sixth lines: "Your wife and children scattered — for you once destroyed their nests." In the catastrophe of war, families are torn apart because in past lives you destroyed the nests of birds and bees. Karmic retribution is never the slightest bit mistaken — sometimes it comes directly, sometimes indirectly, sometimes through enemies, sometimes through your own father, son, wife, or sibling.
Fang Xiaoru's Father Burns the Snakes. During the Ming Dynasty, there was a famous man named Fang Xiaoru, a loyal minister who served Emperor Taizu and later Emperor Huidi. Before Fang Xiaoru was born, his father found a piece of land with excellent feng shui and decided to build a tomb to rebury his ancestors. That night he had a dream. An old man in red robes appeared before him, bowing and pleading: "The land you have chosen is where my family has lived for a long time. I beg you — give us three more days so my descendants can move elsewhere. After three days, build your tomb, and I will surely repay your kindness." He repeated this three times, imploring him urgently to wait just three days, and then bowed and departed.
Fang Xiaoru's father woke and thought: how could such a thing be real? Dreams are fantasies. The auspicious day was tomorrow — how could he wait three more days? He ordered the workers to begin digging. Under the earth they found a burrow, and inside it were hundreds of red snakes. He ordered them all burned.
That night, the old man in red appeared again in a dream, his face twisted with grief and rage, weeping: "I begged you with all my heart, and yet you burned all eight hundred of my children and grandchildren alive. You destroyed my clan, and so I will destroy yours."
After the tomb was finished, a son was born to the family: Fang Xiaoru. His tongue was forked like a snake's. He grew up to become a brilliant scholar and served as a Hanlin academician — learned, loyal, and filial. After Emperor Taizu died, the Prince of Yan raised an army to seize the throne from Emperor Huidi. He marched on Nanjing, and every official surrendered except Fang Xiaoru. The Prince of Yan ordered Fang Xiaoru to write a proclamation declaring that the Prince had entered Nanjing to protect the Ming dynasty. Fang Xiaoru knew this was false, and instead he wrote: "The rebel Yan usurps the throne."
The Prince was furious. "Are you not afraid I will exterminate your nine kinship groups?"
Fang Xiaoru replied: "Exterminate ten groups — what of it?"
The Prince said: "Very well. I will exterminate ten groups." But there are only nine traditional kinship groups. The Prince thought and thought, and decided to count Fang Xiaoru's teachers and students as the tenth. In all, eight hundred people were executed — the same number as the eight hundred snakes that had been burned. Karmic retribution, not the slightest bit mistaken.
The final two lines: "Retribution matches retribution; wash your ears and hear what the Buddha says." This is the conclusion. Everything above — the principles and the facts — shows that cause produces effect, and retribution matches its cause exactly. We should wash our ears and listen well to the Buddha's words. The Buddha is the one of great wisdom, possessing knowledge of past and future lives and the divine eye that sees through all things.
Someone will ask: if the Buddha has such power, why didn't he save the Shakya clan when Virudhaka attacked? You must understand: the Buddha's compassion is immeasurable, but when sentient beings have created collective karma, karmic retribution is certain. The Buddha teaches sentient beings to use the correct method: sever the evil cause so there will be no evil fruit. If the villagers had never eaten all the fish, King Virudhaka would never have slaughtered the Shakya clan. And Virudhaka, having committed the great crime of slaughter, soon afterward died in a fire and fell into hell. Evil cause, evil fruit.
G. The Stages of Abstaining from Killing
The title of today's lecture is "Abstaining from Killing is the Root of Ending War." The catastrophe of war is already at our doorstep. Since it arises from the cause of killing, we must stop creating that cause. This is called abstaining from killing — the root solution.
War is collective karma. But within the collective there is individual karma. Even if everyone else creates killing karma, if you alone do not, you will not share in the collective suffering.
But people often say: "I'm not a butcher. I don't kill animals myself. But asking me not to eat meat — that's impossible. What am I supposed to do?" Very well. You don't kill — that is good. Let me offer you a graduated approach, because just as war has three levels of severity, abstaining from killing has three levels of merit.
Upper merit extinguishes upper-level disaster. Middle merit extinguishes middle-level disaster. Lower merit extinguishes lower-level disaster.
Upper merit: eat vegetarian food year-round. If you cannot manage this, you must understand the relationship between cause and fruit.
Middle merit: eat vegetarian in the sixth and twelfth months, and every morning. If even this is too much, then practice lower merit.
Lower merit: eat vegetarian on the ten abstinence days, the six abstinence days, or on the birthday celebrations of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. At the very least, eat only the "three pure meats" — meat from an animal you did not see killed, did not hear killed, and that was not killed for your sake.
While we are on this subject, I recall seeing a couplet at a vegetarian restaurant the other day. It was quite wonderful. The first line: "Hold the fast for one day, and in all the slaughter of the world, none of it is my share." The second line: "Who knows the debt? Two horns on the head, and from ancient times until now, the repayment never ends." The meaning: if you eat vegetarian for a single day, then however many millions of animals are killed today, none of that karma belongs to you. And the debt of killing — who truly understands it? Look at the ox and the sheep with two horns on their heads, paying and repaying since the beginning of time. Think about it. Is that not terrifying?
I urge you all: to avert the coming catastrophe of war, take up vegetarian food at once. Stop killing immediately.
Lecture Two — Karma Can Be Transformed
Respected teachers, honored guests, fellow practitioners: last time we established that to end the catastrophe of war, we must put down the butcher's knife and study the Buddha's way. But is this method truly reliable? Can it actually work? Today I will speak on "Karma Can Be Transformed."
A. The Laws of Karma
Some of you may be thinking: you say karma can be transformed, but that contradicts Buddhist teaching. Buddhism says that cause produces effect, and the law of karma cannot be destroyed. Why do you say karma can be transformed?
You are right — the law of karma cannot be destroyed. The scriptures contain a verse: "Even after a thousand ages, the karma you have created does not perish. When cause and conditions meet, you yourself must bear the fruit."
Karma cannot be cancelled out. If you committed many evils in the past, can you do enough good now to cancel them? No. Karma does not work by cancellation. Good begets good results; evil begets evil results. This is certain. It is like planting melon seeds and bean seeds in the same field: the melon seeds will grow melons, and the bean seeds will grow beans. The melons will not cancel the beans, nor the beans the melons.
But I am telling you that karma can be transformed. How?
B. Know the Cause, Sever the Condition, Transform the Fruit
Understand the principle. Cause is cause, condition is condition, fruit is fruit — three distinct things. Cause requires conditions to produce fruit. What I want to discuss today is the condition.
Let me ask you: will the catastrophe of war come tomorrow? You will say no. This is because the conditions have not yet ripened. While the conditions are still unripe, karma can be transformed. Sever the conditions of war before they ripen, and you can transform the karmic fruit. But once the conditions ripen, there is nothing anyone can do — even with supernatural powers.
Apply the method. What method severs the unripe conditions? We must eliminate the "contributing conditions" — like a doctor who matches medicine to disease. Fever requires cooling medicine; chills require warming tonics. The right medicine for the right disease is the cure. Fever treated with tonics, or chills treated with cooling medicine — that kind of doctor kills people.
Some say: "Do many good deeds — build bridges and pave roads — and you will avert the catastrophe of war." This is unreliable. You do not suffer the catastrophe of war because you destroyed roads and bridges in a past life. Trying to cancel war-karma by building bridges is like prescribing tonics for a fever — it has nothing to do with the actual disease. The catastrophe of war comes from the cause of killing. To sever the cause of killing, you must sever the conditions of killing. Without the condition, there is no fruit. Without the fruit, there is no war.
If this principle is unclear, let me tell a story.
The Dharma Master's Parable. In a certain place there was a temple where a Dharma Master was giving a lecture. After the talk, a man came to him and said: "I have killed and harmed many lives. I have created great evil karma. What can I do?"
The Master said: "You must repent with genuine sincerity. The fruit has not yet ripened — sever the conditions and it can be averted." But the man understood only cause and fruit, not conditions. So the Master devised a skilful teaching. He gave the man a pouch of caltrop seeds and told him to plant them along two paths behind the temple — one to the east and one to the west. On the eastern path, scatter lime and do not water. On the western path, water every day. Then, every five days, walk both paths barefoot.
The first time, the man walked both paths and felt nothing. The Master said: keep watering the west, keep withholding water from the east. Five days later, he walked again — nothing. Five more days, and sprouts appeared on the western path. Five more days, and the sprouts were three inches tall, blooming yellow. Five weeks later, walking barefoot on the western path, the caltrops pierced his feet and he could go no further.
The Master asked: "And the eastern path?" The man said: "I feel nothing." The Master said: "Both paths were planted with the same caltrop seeds. Why can you walk one but not the other?" Then the man understood. The eastern path had lime and no water — the conditions were severed, and so nothing grew. The western path was watered daily — the contributing conditions brought it to life. Same seeds, same soil — but one path bore fruit and the other did not. This is the principle: with conditions, things arise; without conditions, they cease. Karma can be transformed.
C. Three Levels of Severing Conditions
Now that you believe the conditions can be severed before the fruit ripens, what is the method? It comes in three levels.
Lower level: from this day forward, stop killing and eat the three pure meats. This makes you a good person. The ancients said: "Accept old karma as it comes, and create no new misfortune." If there is meat, eat it; if not, let it go. Accept what comes and your old karma gradually diminishes. But never again kill for the sake of eating, or you create new evil.
The Abhidharma Mahavibhasa says: "If for one day and one night you hold the precept of not killing, in all your future lives you will never encounter the catastrophe of war." Think of it — the merit of just one day and night of the precept is that immense. How much greater the merit of holding it always?
Someone asks: "You say abstaining from killing averts disaster in future lives. But can it avert disaster in this present life?" My answer is: yes. Let me tell a story to prove it.
The Fake Fast That Saved a Life. Once a man boarded a boat for a journey. Inside the boat, he saw two lively fish swimming in the boatman's wooden barrel, clearly destined for the midday meal. The man said: "Will you sell me those fish?" The boatman said: "Certainly — but they're expensive. Three hundred coins for the pair. Whenever you want to eat them, I'll cook them for you." The man paid the three hundred coins, but looking at the fish swimming in the barrel, so lively and appealing, he could not bring himself to eat them. "Not today," he said. "Don't cook them."
The next day, the boatman asked again: "Shall I cook the fish today?" The man said: "No, no — today I am observing the Guanyin fast." In truth he did not observe any fast at all. He simply could not bear to see the fish killed. But he was too embarrassed to admit his compassion, so he invented a fast day. Finally, he released the fish into the river.
A day later, the boat was sailing on the open river when a violent storm arose. Waves towered to the sky. Everyone on board was terrified, kneeling and praying for their lives. Suddenly, in the clouds, two characters appeared: "Fake Fast." Everyone saw them clearly.
"Who on this boat observes a fake fast?" someone shouted.
After several calls, the man thought: I pretended to observe a Guanyin fast. Surely I have offended heaven. If I hide the truth, everyone will suffer for my lie. He called out: "It's me! It's me!"
The others said: "Then over you go!" And they pushed him into the water. Miraculously, a plank of wood floated toward him from nowhere. He grabbed it, and a gust of wind blew him safely to shore, where he was rescued. But the boat — it capsized in the storm, and everyone aboard sank to the bottom to feed the fish.
Think about it: one moment of compassion saved one life.
Middle level: not only abstain from killing, but also eat vegetarian food. This is harder, because humans are born with the habit of eating meat, and breaking this habit is difficult. How can you manage it? By practicing four kinds of contemplation.
First: fear that war will come. When a dish of meat is placed before you, reflect on how that animal felt when it was dragged to slaughter — the terror was just like the terror of war. To avoid war, I will not eat this dish.
Second: fear being seized by an enemy. In wartime, the invaders bind you and drag you away. Reflect on how that animal was bound and led to the butcher — how pitiful. To avoid that fate, I will not eat this dish.
Third: fear the scattering of your family. Every family has parents, siblings, a spouse, children. In wartime, when you are bound and taken, your family weeps. Reflect on how the animal's companions cry when it is dragged away. I cannot bear to eat this dish.
Fourth: fear being killed. If you yourself were about to be slaughtered, would you consent? Reflect on the animal's blood, the knife, the boiling pot, the frying pan. To keep from being killed myself, I dare not eat this dish.
If you accomplish these four contemplations, not only will you stop wanting meat — you will repent all your past wrongs and permanently give up meat forever.
Upper level: beyond abstaining from killing, you must also release living creatures. The Buddhist saying goes: "To save one living being is greater merit than building a seven-story pagoda." The merit of saving a single life is immense, because the Buddha's heart-mind is always directed toward saving all sentient beings. To save a life is to repay the Buddha's kindness.
We should understand: within the six realms of existence, all beings have been our parents, siblings, and kin in past lives. The six realms — heaven, the human realm, the asura realm, the animal realm, the hungry ghost realm, and hell — contain all sentient beings, whose original nature is pure and luminous. But from beginningless time, they have been clouded by ignorance, lost and confused, cycling through birth and death in these six realms. With each rebirth comes a new set of parents and kin. Over countless lifetimes, the number of our past parents and family members is beyond calculation. As ordinary beings, we have no divine eye and cannot perceive this. But the Buddha, fully awakened, sees it all clearly. He said: "All sentient beings possess the Buddha-nature." When any being encounters the Buddha's teaching and takes it up, they can attain Buddhahood. All sentient beings are not only our past parents — they are future Buddhas. When you save a life, you are a Bodhisattva.
Yongming Dashi Saves Fish and is Saved. During the Song Dynasty there lived a great master named Yongming. In lay life his surname was Wang, and he worked as a tax collector at a river port. He was a Bodhisattva who had returned to the world by vow. Living by the river, he saw fishermen bringing in their catch every day — lively fish, destined for the market — and his compassion was stirred. He spent his entire monthly salary buying fish and releasing them.
After a time, every fisherman in the area knew that Mr. Wang was an eager buyer. They brought him all their live fish. But his salary could not cover the cost. He could not buy from one fisherman and not another without feeling guilty. When his salary ran out, he began using funds from the government treasury to buy fish and set them free.
One day his superiors came to audit the treasury. He could not replace the funds. He was reported to the court, and the government sentenced him to death. Everyone sympathized — they knew Mr. Wang had not spent the money on drink or gambling — but the law was the law.
The execution was overseen by an official named Xu Zixin, a close friend. Before the execution, Xu said: "I know you used the public funds for a good cause. But I have my orders and cannot save you. Please forgive me." Mr. Wang replied: "I am grateful for your friendship. I have no regrets in dying, because I have saved hundreds of millions of lives. Now my only thought is to be reborn in the Pure Land of the West." He pressed his palms together and began chanting "Amitabha Buddha," without the slightest fear of death.
When the appointed hour came, the executioner raised his blade and brought it down. But with a great clang, the blade shattered into three pieces. The supervising official immediately submitted a memorial to King Qian Mu, who was himself a compassionate Buddhist. Upon reading the report, the king pardoned Mr. Wang and restored his position. After his release, Mr. Wang refused to return to government service. Seeing through the vanity of the world, he renounced lay life, became a monk, and diligently practiced the precepts, meditation, and wisdom. He was later honored as the Sixth Patriarch of the Pure Land school — the great Master Yongming, famous for his "Four Alternatives" verse.
Finally, let me briefly explain the simple method of releasing living creatures. First, bless a cup of water with the Great Compassion Mantra, and sprinkle it on the creatures to be released. Then recite the repentance verse three times: "All evil karma I have created since beginningless time, born of greed, anger, and ignorance, arising from body, speech, and mind — before the Buddha I now repent." Then give them the Three Refuges: "I take refuge in the Buddha; I take refuge in the Dharma; I take refuge in the Sangha. Taking refuge in the Buddha, I will not fall into hell. Taking refuge in the Dharma, I will not become a hungry ghost. Taking refuge in the Sangha, I will not be reborn as an animal."
Why give the Three Refuges to animals? Because all sentient beings have two kinds of life — physical life and wisdom-life. Releasing a creature saves its physical life; giving it the Three Refuges saves its wisdom-life. Hearing the Three Refuges, in its next life it will not fall into the three evil paths of suffering. If it is reborn as a human, it may awaken the aspiration for Buddhahood, deeply trust the Dharma, and eventually attain Buddhahood. This is saving its wisdom. And if you happen to see an animal being killed and cannot save it, at least generate compassion in your heart and quickly recite the Three Refuges and the Rebirth Mantra on its behalf. This is the least we can do as disciples of the Three Jewels.
Let me close this lecture with a verse:
Though the cause is fearful, without conditions it will not arise.
Caltrops denied water cannot hope to grow.
The evil causes we planted in the past are indeed fearful. But without contributing conditions, they will not bear fruit. Like the eastern path in the Master's parable — without water, the caltrops never sprouted, and the barefoot walker passed unharmed. Though we have created vast killing karma in the past, if we abstain from killing and protect life now, the evil fruit will diminish.
I urge you all: quickly study the Buddha's way. Quickly transform your karma.
Lecture Three — Killing is the Greatest Violence Against Heaven's Harmony
Respected teachers, honored guests, fellow practitioners: this is our third day of discussing the Dharma together. We must understand that the first requirement of believing in and studying the Buddha's teaching is to comprehend the Buddha's doctrine. The Buddha's doctrine contains six essentials: compassion, pity, equality, "commit no evil," "practice all good," and "purify your own mind." The foundation of all six is abstaining from killing. And so today's topic is: "Killing is the Greatest Violence Against Heaven's Harmony."
A. The Source of Fortune and Misfortune
Harmony brings fortune. Killing is the chief of all evils — violent, cruel, and the gravest offense against heaven and principle. The saying goes: Heaven, Earth, and Humanity are three powers linked as one. The human heart is the heart of heaven and earth. When the human heart is cruel, heaven and earth become cruel. When the human heart is harmonious, heaven and earth become harmonious. Fortune comes from harmony. The ancients said: "Harmony brings fortune" — when compassion reaches its extreme, when the heart is utterly peaceful, when you would not harm a person or even an animal, then harmony comes.
King Wen of Zhou was the most compassionate ruler. He looked upon every subject as though they were injured, treating each person's suffering as his own. His compassion extended even to the dead — when he saw bones scattered on the ground, exposed to sun and rain, he ordered them gathered and buried. This is the spirit of harmony.
Among Confucius's seventy-two great disciples was one named Gao Chai. From his youth, Gao Chai went to the mountains to gather firewood. Seeing the trees lose their leaves in winter and sprout fresh growth in spring, he could not bear to break a living branch. He cut only dead wood. "Gao Chai would not break what was still growing." His compassion extended even to plants. This is harmony. And in the time of King Wen and Gao Chai, the world was at peace and the people were happy.
Cruelty brings disaster. The opposite of harmony is cruelty. A person filled with cruelty will attract disaster. A cruel family attracts disaster. A cruel nation brings disaster upon its people.
Cruelty means violence. When violence reaches its extreme, it begins with killing small animals. Once killing small animals becomes habit, it escalates to medium-sized animals. Once that becomes habit, it escalates to large animals. And once killing large animals becomes habitual, it escalates to killing human beings — even one's own parents and elders. This is the harbinger of chaos in the world.
B. The Wisdom of the Ancients
The wise perceive the seed; the foolish fear only the fruit. The scriptures say: "Bodhisattvas fear the cause; ordinary people fear the fruit." The wise see the cause and know the coming result, and so they dare not do evil. The foolish do not fear evil causes — they act recklessly, and when the fruit ripens, their fear comes too late.
Know the seed — this is wisdom. Not only Buddhism teaches this; the ancient sages also said: "To know the seed — that is divine." Wisdom means seeing the first sign and knowing what comes next. A wise person sees moisture on the stone steps and knows it will rain within three days. Seeing a dark ring around the moon, they know a typhoon is coming. Knowing what has not yet happened — what good is that? Immense good. Before the typhoon, you store the grain. Before the rain, you prepare your umbrella. When famine or flood comes, you are not caught in panic.
Prevent the small before it becomes great. No matter how small a thing seems at its beginning, you must act to prevent it from growing. The ancients said: "A trickle of water becomes a great river; a spark becomes a wildfire." Do not underestimate a single drop of water; do not ignore a single spark.
Right now, the nations of the world are preparing for war. Country after country builds atomic weapons. What are these weapons for? To kill incalculable numbers of living beings. This is the sign of coming disaster. "But what does it matter? War hasn't reached us yet." My friend — do not speak this way. You must attend to the trickle before it becomes a flood, and extinguish the spark before it becomes a wildfire.
C. The Wisdom of Virtuous Rule
The sages released living creatures. Some say: "Of course Buddhists preach about abstaining from killing." But it is not only Buddhism that promotes this. Our Chinese sages and worthies have also spoken of it throughout history.
Zhao Jianzi, a lord of the Warring States period, was surrounded by nobles who hunted turtledoves every New Year. But Zhao Jianzi bought them all and set them free. When an advisor told him that releasing creatures only on one day was not thorough enough, he immediately issued an order to permanently forbid the capture of turtledoves and to reward anyone who released living creatures.
Zi Chan, a disciple of Confucius, was also renowned for his compassion. Whenever anyone gave him fish, he could not bear to cook and eat them. Seeing them alive and lively, knowing they would be killed — he released them all into a pond where they could swim freely. These are not isolated examples. The historical records of twenty-four dynasties are full of compassionate sages who practiced abstaining from killing and releasing life.
Official prohibitions on slaughter. In ancient times, when drought came and the people prayed for rain, all slaughter was forbidden. They knew that killing was inauspicious, and that prayers would go unanswered if killing continued. During the Tang Dynasty, the law designated the first, fifth, and ninth months as the Buddhist long-fast months during which killing was prohibited, as well as the ten abstinence days of each month. To kill during these periods was a criminal offense.
But prohibition is merely a passive measure. The active measure is to release life. Emperor Qianyan of the Tang Dynasty promoted abstaining from killing and releasing living creatures. He issued an edict commanding the construction of release-ponds throughout the empire — eighty-one in all, each with a stone stele inscribed by a famous calligrapher such as Yan Zhenqing. Emperor Zhenzong of the Song Dynasty likewise ordered every county to build a release-pond. West Lake in Zhejiang was the largest of these — though sadly, today it has become a fishing lake. The Tang and Song dynasties were the golden age of releasing life.
D. The Personal Debt of Killing
Someone says: "I stopped killing long ago. According to the law of karma, I should be free from retribution." My friend — not so fast. Every person carries a mountain of killing karma.
Think about it. The moment you were born, your mother feared she might not have enough milk, so she killed chickens to nourish herself. At your one-month celebration, guests were feasted with slaughtered animals. When you grew up and became engaged, there was killing. At your wedding, even more killing. When you entered school, your parents hosted your teacher — with killing. In your career, you entertained clients — with killing. At your fortieth birthday, your fiftieth birthday — killing. Through the year, at every festival — New Year, Qingming, the Dragon Boat Festival, the Ghost Festival, the Double Ninth — killing. A guest arrives unexpectedly — killing. You fall ill and lose your appetite — kill something different for variety. You recover and need to rebuild your strength — stew a duck with angelica root. You thank the doctor who healed you — with killing. And when at last you die, at the funeral banquet — the greatest killing of all.
Is this not so? Through all these occasions, even someone who has never held a knife has caused much killing. And those who eat meat every single day — their account is beyond reckoning. In this life we create killing karma, and in past lives we did the same, back through countless lifetimes. Each life you take binds one vengeful spirit to you, waiting beside you for the moment to collect. And within your own eighth consciousness, every seed of killing-karma waits to sprout and pull you toward retribution.
If harmony brings fortune and cruelty brings disaster, then what does daily killing produce? All those vengeful spirits waiting to collect — is that fortune or disaster? Think about it. "Now I'm afraid. What can I do?" My friend — do not panic. The disaster has not yet come. From this day forward, stop killing. Like a small fire doused with water — it goes out at once and cannot spread. "But what about the vengeful spirits already waiting?" Trust in the boundless power of the Buddha's teaching. Through sincere merit-transfer, they can be reborn in the human or heavenly realms, and they will no longer trouble you.
Let me share two stories to prove the power of the Dharma.
The Liang Repentance Liberates the Snake. Master Lianchi, patriarch of the Pure Land school, recorded this in his Random Notes from the Bamboo Window. A woman surnamed Cao married into the Wen family, who raised many pigeons. One day a great snake came to eat the pigeons, and a maidservant killed it with a stone. Two days later, the snake's spirit possessed the maidservant, crying: "Give me back my life!" The maidservant raved like a madwoman. Terrified, Mrs. Cao ran to her father's house and brought her father back. He addressed the spirit sternly: "You were a snake who wanted to eat pigeons. You had one life; the pigeons also had lives. A life for a life — that's fair. You are an animal; they are animals. Go settle your account with them. Why demand a human life?"
The spirit replied: "I am not a snake. I was a military officer of Jing Province during the Jin and Later Liang dynasties. I died fighting against Hou Jing on the battlefield. Why do you call me a snake?"
The father said: "Hou Jing was from the Six Dynasties — over a thousand years ago. This is the Ming Dynasty now. You became a snake without even knowing it, and you're still creating karma. How pitiful. Enmity should be dissolved, not perpetuated."
The spirit suddenly pleaded: "I've become a snake — what can I do? Please, have pity and save me!"
The father asked: "You were alive during the time of Emperor Wu of Liang. Do you know that Emperor Wu created the Liang Emperor's Repentance to liberate his empress, who had been reborn as a python?"
"I know, I know!" said the spirit. "That repentance is very powerful."
"Then let me recite it on your behalf to liberate you."
"Wonderful! Thank you! Thank you!"
The father recited the entire Liang Emperor's Repentance with devotion. When the recitation was complete, the maidservant immediately awakened, completely unharmed.
The National Master Sanmei Liberates the River God. In the year Gengchen of the Chongzhen reign, Prime Minister He of Jiangxia moored his boat for the night at Sturgeon Point. In a dream, the temple god appeared and said: "I am the River God Song, Lord of the Nine Rivers. In a past life, you, Prime Minister He, National Master Sanmei, and I were fellow disciples. In this life, Sanmei has become a National Master, you have become a Prime Minister, and I — because of a single wrong thought, a craving for meat — fell into the realm of river spirits. Passing merchants offer me pig and lamb and wine, and because of this I am certain to fall into the evil paths. Tomorrow night, Sanmei's boat will dock here. Please stay an extra day and ask him to perform a liberation ceremony for me."
The Prime Minister agreed. The next day, Master Sanmei's boat arrived. The Prime Minister relayed the river god's request. Master Sanmei immediately conducted a water ceremony and provided vegetarian offerings to the monks. Suddenly, the kitchen monk spoke — possessed by the new river god: "The old river god has been liberated from suffering through this ceremony. The new river god has also taken refuge in the Three Jewels and received the five precepts. From now on, all offerings at the temple must be vegetarian. I will not accept meat."
A skeptic among the crowd went to the river temple with pork and wine to test this claim. As he raised the incense to bow, he suddenly fell to the ground and began slapping his own face, crying: "I have taken refuge with National Master Sanmei! I do not accept blood offerings! I told the kitchen monk already — why do you break my precepts? Be warned!" When the man came to his senses, he begged forgiveness and never dared to make meat offerings again.
You see — the power of the Dharma is immeasurable. Even karma that has already ripened can be transformed through sincere repentance. How much more so when the fruit has not yet ripened! From today, abstain from killing. Become a new person. Leave the old ways behind. Let me close with a verse:
The heart is like a great furnace; sin is like a snowflake.
Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha where you stand.
The heart is a great furnace. Sin is a single snowflake. Can a snowflake survive in a furnace? "Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha where you stand" — this comes from the time of Shakyamuni Buddha. A butcher holding a blood-stained knife came to the place where the Buddha was teaching the Dharma. Hearing the teaching, his mind opened at once. He said: "This is true!" And he set down his knife and immediately attained realization.
I urge you: while the catastrophe of war has not yet arrived — quickly change your ways. Quickly abstain from killing and release life.
Lecture Four — Answers to Common Questions About Abstaining from Killing
Respected teachers, honored guests, fellow practitioners: over the past several days, we have been discussing the principles of abstaining from killing and releasing life. Perhaps some of you still have questions. To help everyone understand thoroughly, today I will address "Several Common Questions About Abstaining from Killing."
Killing is the worst thing a person can do. And yet, from the moment of birth until death, we never stop killing — life after life, until it becomes an ingrained habit. When someone hears the Buddha's teaching and is told to abstain from killing, it sounds strange and disagreeable. Since there are doubts, let me address them.
A. What Governs Our Actions
All sentient beings living in this world are governed in everything they do by two forces: custom and truth.
Custom is the habits and traditions of ordinary society. People follow what their parents taught them, and their children follow them in turn, generation after generation. Some of these customs are reasonable; others are not. The unreasonable ones create evil causes, which sooner or later produce evil fruits.
Truth is genuine principle. Wise people are not governed by custom. In everything they do, they follow the truth — the way of the sages. What is right, the sages teach you to do. What is wrong, they tell you to avoid. The ancients said: "Seek your own fortune." Fortune does not come from outside — you create it yourself.
B. The Debate Between Custom and Truth on Eating Meat
Custom says: "If we don't kill them, they'll overrun the world and eat us." I ask you: the phoenix and the qilin have been considered auspicious since ancient times — everyone loves them — yet they have not overrun the world or eaten anyone. Cats and dogs and rats, which people do not generally eat, have not overrun the world either.
Custom says: "Meat is nutritious. Without it, we'll be weak and unable to work." City dwellers eat fish and meat daily; country folk eat meat only at festivals. City dwellers stew medicinal duck every day and suffer all manner of strange diseases. Country people rarely fall ill and live long lives — at the Ninth Month elders' celebrations, many are ninety or a hundred years old. Monks eat no meat at all, yet they rise at four in the morning with few illnesses. The elephant eats only grass and carries riders without effort. The camel eats only grass and crosses a thousand miles of desert. Cattle and horses eat only grass, yet their bodies are powerful and strong.
Vegetables, beans, fruits — all contain rich vitamins. This is not empty talk. Go to any major hospital and see: are the patients mostly meat-eaters or vegetarians? Furthermore, while meat contains nutrients, it also contains toxins. When an animal is seized and killed, it experiences terrible suffering and hatred. That hatred produces toxins throughout its body. Even in nursing mothers — when a woman experiences great distress or anger, her breast milk becomes toxic and can sicken the infant. Test it: express the milk of an angry woman and place it in the sun. It turns green. Milk from a calm woman, placed in the sun, stays white.
Custom says: "Animals have souls but no awareness — they were made to be eaten." If animals have no awareness, consider this: Emperor Xuanzong of Tang taught horses to sing and dance. When the rebel An Lushan usurped the throne and ordered the dancing horse to perform, the horse saw that this was not its master, and dashed its head against the ground until it died. Is that not awareness?
Small pigeons carry letters across vast distances. Dogs can do arithmetic with chalk. In Italy there is a bird called the义鳥 — a bird of loyalty. Its song is beautiful, and it is nearly impossible to catch. But when one is captured, the hunters blind it with a hot iron, keep it in a damp place for two days, then feed it well until it recovers. When it is placed in the sunlight again, it begins to sing — but its song has changed. Where once it was joyful, now it is mournful and pitiful. Its companions hear the grieving song and fly down to see. Seeing their blind friend, they cannot bring themselves to leave — and the hunter captures them one by one. If birds can show such loyalty, do they not have awareness?
In Wuping, Fujian, there are golden-furred monkeys — beautiful and quick, nearly impossible to catch. Hunters use poison arrows. When a mother monkey is struck, she knows she will die. Before the poison takes effect, she nurses each of her babies until they are all full. Then she expresses the rest of her milk onto the grass, so that even after her death, her children can eat the milky grass and survive. The baby monkeys gather around their dying mother, crying, unwilling to leave. The hunter approaches, but still cannot catch the little ones. So he skins the dead mother and whips her pelt. The babies, seeing their mother's skin being beaten, rush forward wailing to protect it — and some die crashing against the ground, while others are seized alive.
How can you say animals have no awareness?
Custom says: "Lower animals have no knowledge — they deserve to be killed." If lacking knowledge means deserving death, then what about a man drunk insensible — does he deserve death? A madman who knows nothing — does he deserve death? A newborn infant who understands nothing — does the infant deserve death? The argument collapses.
Custom says: "Animals were created by heaven for humans to eat." If heaven created animals for humans, then heaven also created animals that eat humans — tigers, wolves, mosquitoes, lice. Why don't you cheerfully submit to being their meal? Let me tell a story to show whether killing is in accord with heaven or against it.
Tao Hongjing Revises His Book. During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, a high official named Tao Hongjing renounced his position, hung his robes on the palace gate, and retreated to the mountains to cultivate the Dao. He was so wise that Emperor Wu of Liang consulted him on state affairs — the people called him "the Prime Minister of the Mountains." Tao Hongjing was also a master of medicine and had written a great pharmacological text.
He brought one student, Huan Kai, who attained the Dao and ascended to heaven before his teacher. One day Huan Kai descended from heaven to visit. Tao Hongjing said: "You have attained the Dao while I have not. I am ashamed."
Huan Kai said: "Master, I have come specifically to repay your kindness by revealing the obstacle to your attainment. I attained the Dao because I did not kill. But your medical text prescribes animal-based remedies throughout. This has created killing karma that blocks your progress."
After Huan Kai departed, Tao Hongjing burned his entire pharmacological text. The herbal texts found in bookshops today are the revised versions written after the burning. Tao Hongjing later took monastic vows at Ashoka Temple.
If even writing a book that instructs others to kill small animals for medicine prevents one from attaining the Dao, then how could heaven have created animals to be eaten? "Heaven has the virtue of loving life" — heaven too loves all living beings.
E. Killing is a Criminal Act
It violates justice. Among all crimes, killing is the greatest. In the name of justice, all beings should be treated with equality. Every creature loves its life — you love yours, and animals love theirs. Even under human law, the gravest crime is murder. Why then do we inflict the death penalty on chickens, ducks, and pigs, who have committed no crime? In the name of justice, we should not kill.
It violates spiritual cultivation. Every religion teaches compassion. In Buddhism, the practice of the Six Perfections begins with generosity, which has three forms: the gift of wealth, the gift of Dharma, and the gift of fearlessness. The gift of fearlessness means ensuring that all beings are free from terror. If you kill them, where is the gift of fearlessness? If you terrify them, where is the gift of fearlessness? Spiritual cultivation requires compassion. To kill is to sever the seed of compassion — and without compassion, no cultivation can succeed.
It violates our deepest relationships. To plant a field of blessings is to reap happiness. When you see an animal about to be harmed and you save its life, you plant a field of compassion. But if you see its suffering and not only fail to save it but kill it yourself, you have destroyed your own field of blessings.
Lu Du Crosses the Huai River. The History of the Southern Dynasties records that during the Southern Qi dynasty, a military officer named Lu Du was defeated in battle against Northern Wei. Fleeing south, he reached the bank of the Huai River. There were no boats. The enemy cavalry was closing in. In his desperation, Lu Du knelt at the riverbank, pressed his palms together, and made a great vow: "If I can safely cross this river, from this day forward I will eat vegetarian food and abstain from killing, and I will release living creatures for the rest of my life."
The moment he finished speaking, two shields floated down from upstream. Lu Du leaped into the water, grasped the shields, and crossed safely to the other side.
One thought of compassion — and such a response.
A Father Kills His Daughter Reborn as a Sheep. During the Tang Dynasty, there was a man named Wei Qingzhi who was planning a banquet. The night before, his wife dreamed of their daughter — dead two years — dressed in a blue robe and white skirt, with two white jade hairpins, kneeling and weeping: "Mother! In my past life I secretly stole money from our parents. After I died, I was reborn in the animal realm. I have become a sheep in our household. Tomorrow Father will kill me. I beg you — save my life!"
The wife woke and told her husband, who dismissed it as a dream caused by grief. But when the wife went to the kitchen, she saw a sheep tied to a pillar — with blue wool on its upper body, white wool on its belly and legs, and two white horns. Exactly like the daughter in the dream. And when the sheep saw her, it began to cry — a sound like human weeping.
The wife told the cook: "Do not kill this sheep today." The cook protested — "What will we serve the guests?" — and refused to listen. The wife went to find her husband, but the guests had already arrived, and he ordered the cook to slaughter the sheep and serve the meal.
Strangely, not a single guest would touch the lamb. When asked why, they all said: "The oddest thing — looking through the back window, the sheep tied to the pillar looked just like a person. A young girl. We cannot bring ourselves to eat it."
Hearing this, the husband and wife wept. The truth of the six realms of rebirth was made real before their eyes.
In the name of compassion — we must abstain from killing. In the name of justice and equality — we must give up meat. In the name of our deepest relationships — we must eat vegetarian food. Understanding these three truths, we cannot continue to take life.
I urge you: do not follow custom. Follow truth. Abstain from killing, and eat vegetarian.
Lecture Five — The Growth of Compassion in Europe and America
Respected teachers, honored guests, fellow practitioners: today is the final day of our lecture series. Over these days we have discussed the principles of abstaining from killing and releasing life. Perhaps some will say: this is the backward thinking of undeveloped nations — something only Buddhists talk about, not the business of modern civilized countries. You should know: abstaining from killing and releasing life is a matter of the heart — a question of whether one possesses compassion. And it is precisely the most advanced nations that have begun to develop this compassion. Since some may not believe this, tonight I will speak on "The Growth of Compassion in Europe and America."
A. Two Types of Animal Teeth
Animals can be divided into two categories by their teeth. One type has flat, even teeth; the other has sharp, pointed teeth. An animal's teeth reveal both its temperament and its natural diet.
Flat-toothed animals — cattle, horses, sheep — eat plants and are gentle and docile.
Sharp-toothed animals — cats, tigers, leopards, wolves — eat flesh and are fierce and violent.
B. The Natural Diet of Humans
Human teeth are flat and even. Human temperament is naturally compassionate. By logic, then, humans are meant to eat plants. "But humans eat both plants and meat — how do you explain that?" Human nature is originally good — as the Confucian text says: "At birth, human nature is good." Buddhism says: "All sentient beings possess the Buddha-nature." But when human nature changes, two sharp canine teeth emerge, the craving for meat arises, and the temperament becomes violent. Humans are not born craving meat. Watch an infant: at first it drinks only mother's milk, then eats porridge, noodles, vegetables, and fruit. Giving young children meat is rare, because it causes indigestion and even a kind of lethargy. Only when children grow older do parents force meat upon them, changing their nature and creating a lifelong habit.
C. Stages of Change in Diet and Temperament
Originally compassionate — humans first ate plants. Then habituated to cruelty — as the meat-eating habit deepened, human temperament grew violent. The nature of the animal you eat blends into your own nature — eat beef, and ox-nature enters you; eat pork, and pig-nature enters you. Just as adding ginger to medicine makes it heating, and adding goldthread makes it cooling. Then the awakening and return — when people realize that eating meat is wrong, that awakening gradually restores the original compassion.
D. The Two Beacons of Compassion in the West
The Society for the Protection of Animals. In 1822, the British Member of Parliament Martin first proposed legislation to protect animals. His first attempt failed. His second failed. His third failed. He persisted through eighteen revisions between 1835 and 1920 before the law was finally established. The society not only promoted vegetarianism but also banned the sale of animal skins, horns, and tusks. On the centenary of Martin's death, the fourteenth of October was designated World Animal Day. American states adopted April 21–26 as Animal Protection Week and incorporated animal welfare into children's textbooks as the foundation of humane education.
Other nations on Animal Protection Day prohibit hunting, ban bullfighting, forbid keeping birds in cages — for a caged bird singing is like a prisoner singing, and neither is pleasant to hear. They prohibit using live animals for vivisection. New buildings include brick nesting-holes for birds. Lighthouses are built at sea to give long-distance migratory birds a place to rest. There are animal shelters and veterinary hospitals. In England, the royal family participates in the Society for the Protection of Animals, and the Queen herself acts as plaintiff in thousands of cases of animal abuse each year.
The International Vegetarian Society. In 1927, London hosted an international vegetarian congress attended by thousands of prominent scholars. A later congress in Czechoslovakia drew delegates from thirteen nations. The British scholar Dr. Walsh declared: "If we want to prevent human bloodshed, we must begin at the dining table." This perfectly matches the Buddhist principle: "If you wish to end the catastrophe of war, sentient beings must stop eating meat."
Dr. Udi, an expert in theology, philosophy, natural history, and economics, said: "One meat-eater consumes seven times as much as one vegetarian — because meat leads to other cravings." Meat leads to drink, drink leads to excess, and excess leads to every other indulgence. A chain of consumption. Vegetarians rarely gamble or drink.
China was represented at this congress by the eminent Buddhist laywoman Lü Bicheng of Anhui, a devoted practitioner of many years.
E. The Karmic Record
Some believe that karmic retribution is a uniquely Chinese idea and that Westerners have never spoken of it. In fact, Westerners have documented karma as well. Let me give two examples from Western sources.
Joseph and the Bear Trap. In Europe, a hunter named Joseph made his living trapping bears with mechanical snares in the mountains. One day, while wandering, he stumbled into one of his own traps. He could not move — any motion would impale him on the iron hooks. Deep in the mountains, in the dead of winter, with no one around, he lay trapped for four days and three nights, near death. In that extremity, he repented all his years of hunting — the cruelty of it. He vowed that if anyone came to save him, he would never kill again and would persuade others to stop killing too. With this sincere repentance, someone happened to pass by and rescued him. Evil cause, evil fruit — and repentance that transformed the karma.
The Fate of the Slaughterers. In Palestine, where the Crusaders once wrought such slaughter, two great peoples lived: the Arabs and the Jews. After European colonization, many Jews migrated to Europe and America, where they entered the slaughterhouse business. Jewish slaughterers made up a large portion of the industry, and their methods were notably cruel. When the animal protection movement called for reforms — separating animals so they could not see each other's deaths, and using anesthesia to reduce suffering — most slaughterers complied, but the Jewish slaughterers refused. They bought off members of parliament and sabotaged legislative sessions. The movement produced documentary films contrasting humane slaughter methods with Jewish methods, but each screening was disrupted.
Less than one hundred days after these disruptions, the British allowed the Jews to re-establish their state. The returning Jewish merchants dominated commerce in Palestine. Arab unemployment soared. The Arabs' resentment boiled over, and they rose up in violent riots — slaughtering Jewish men, women, and children indiscriminately, each body bearing three or four knife wounds. Palestine became a slaughterhouse for the slaughterers.
China was once the most advanced nation in both material and spiritual civilization. Now we have fallen behind. Europe and America, once spiritually backward, are advancing rapidly. We should feel ashamed and redouble our efforts.
Colophon
This text belongs to the Yiguandao morality book (善書) tradition, a genre of publicly circulated spiritual and ethical texts produced by Yiguandao temples and affiliated organizations for the edification of practitioners and the general public. The lectures were delivered in Taiwan to a mixed audience of Buddhist practitioners and laypeople, drawing on Buddhist doctrine, Chinese history, Confucian ethics, and modern Western animal welfare movements.
Translated from Chinese by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Gospel register — plain, direct, warm. The translation aims to preserve the lecturer's conversational voice, the progressive structure of his argument, and the full text of every parable and historical case. Nothing has been abridged, compressed, or omitted.
Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text: 戒殺是息刀兵之本
Chinese source text from taolibrary.com (善書圖書館). Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.
諸位老師,各位佳賓大德,各位同修:學人今晚第一次來談談淺近的佛法,與諸位互相來研究,敬請諸位多多指教。我們人生,生存在這世間,一種苦未了,一種苦又再來,可以說是八苦交煎,苦不堪言,其受不了!但是除了八苦以外,還有許多未定的苦,如刀兵災禍,真是一言難盡。
甲、刀兵來源
我們大家要明白,這些痛苦是從何處來的?凡事不離因果,過去造了八苦的因,現在就要受八苦的果,了知因果的關係,就知道刀兵劫也是一種果報。可是有一部份人,不相信萬法皆有因果之說,因為他沒有研究佛法,所以就不相信因果的道理!既然不信因果,那麼刀兵劫是什麼原因,且請你說說看!好,我們就來追求到底,看看刀兵劫的原因是什麼?
一、凡智知現在
諸位要知道,世間凡夫的看法,與聖人的看法,根本不同,凡夫的看法分二種:第一種他認為刀兵劫是帝國主義的侵略者所造成的,這是欲征服世界而引起戰爭。再一種的看法,是認為國內的野心家,不守本分,擾亂內部治安,叛國造反而起戰鬥,所以就發生了刀兵劫難。一般的凡夫以為這二者就是刀兵劫的原因,其實這並不是根本的原因,不過是一種助緣而已。聽你這樣講:刀兵劫是緣,那麼因在那裡呢?這不是普通人能了解的,一定要智慧高的聖人方能了解。
二、聖智見往昔
佛法無邊,只有佛教,才能夠說得清清楚楚,舉一個比喻:拿一粒瓜果的種子種在土地裡,這叫因;後來種子出芽長大,瓜果成熟叫果。助緣就是幫助成長的機會,好比種子,種了以後就要澆水、日曬、施肥,方會結果。所以必定要有因有緣,才會結果,這樣看起來便很明顯,見果知因,好像見瓜,就知道由瓜的種子生起來的。現在所以有刀兵劫的果,亦是過去造了刀兵劫的因。諸位要知道,刀兵劫既是結殺的果,其因,當然離不開殺因,加上帝國主義者和野心家的助緣,就發生了刀兵劫的果。但是這種的因,凡夫不知,只有佛菩薩才能夠了解。這並不是空講,亦不是推測,佛菩薩是有天眼通的,所以看刀兵劫的因果,看得很明白,了知眾生自古以來,斷不了殺業,沒有一個不殺生的。殺生可分二種:一種是直接殺、一種是間接殺,造此二種殺業的因,積久遇緣就結成刀兵劫的果。什麼叫直接殺、間接殺呢?屠夫就是直接殺豬、殺羊、殺牛,叫直接殺;因為我們天天要吃肉,他才宰殺,是為我們殺的,此謂間接殺。這二種就是殺因。
[Source text continues — full Chinese original preserved in the source file at Good Works Library WIP/Yiguandao Source Texts/戒殺是息刀兵之本 — Abstaining from Killing is the Root of Ending War.md]
Source Colophon
Chinese source text from taolibrary.com (善書圖書館), the Morality Book Library. The complete source text (~21,300 Chinese characters) is preserved in the source text file in the Good Works Library WIP directory. The text is presented here in its opening sections; the full source is available for scholarly reference and verification.
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