The earlier and purer Buddhism, as we have seen, had only one religious formula, and that was a simple expression of veneration for the three jewels—the Buddha, his Law, and his Order of Monks ([p. 78]).
Any form of worship was altogether out of place, if not a mere mockery, when there was no supreme Being to worship; when the Buddha himself, who never claimed to be more than a perfected man, had passed away into non-existence, and when all that he left behind was the great ideal of his own memory, to be venerated and imitated.
When, however, monastic establishments were organized and the doctrine became developed, a great development of worship took place.
To illustrate this I submit a description of daily life in a Burmese monastery, based on the information given by Shway Yoe ([p. 307]), and often using his words.
It appears that every monastic community in Burma is roused a little before daylight by the sound of a big bell, beaten with a wooden mallet. Each monk has then to rise, rinse out his mouth, wash his hands and face, arrange his dress (the same in which he has slept all night) and recite a few formularies, among which is one to the following effect:—‘How great a favour has the Lord Buddha bestowed upon me in manifesting to me his law, through the observance of which I may escape the purgatorial penalties of hell and secure salvation!’ All the members of the fraternity then station themselves before the image of the Buddha, with the Abbot at their head, and the rest of the brotherhood, full monks, novices and scholars, according to their order. This done, they proceed to intone the morning service. At its conclusion each stands before the Head of the monastery, and pledges himself to observe during the day all the rules and precepts incumbent upon him. They then separate—the pupils and novices to sweep the floor of the monastery, bring drinking water, filter it, etc., the more advanced novices and full monks to tend the sacred trees; the elders to meditate in solitude on the miseries of life, such meditation being beyond all other actions meritorious. Some gather flowers and offer them before the relic-shrine (Dāgaba).
Then comes a repast, preceded by a grace to the effect that the food is eaten to satisfy bodily wants, not to please the appetite; that garments are used to cover nakedness, not for vanity; that health is desired to give strength for the performance of religious worship and meditation. After the meal, all devote themselves to study or to teaching. Then arranging themselves in file, they set out with the Abbot at their head to receive their food (not beg). Silently they move on through the streets, fixing their eyes steadily on the ground six feet before them, meditating on the vanity and mutability of all things, and only halting when a layman emerges from some door to pour his contribution of rice or fruit or vegetables into their alms-bowls. The gift received, not a word or a syllable of thanks is uttered; for is it not the receivers who confer the favour and not the givers? In this way they circle back to the monastery.
On their return from their perambulation a portion of the food is offered to the Buddha, and then all proceed to eat the remainder, consisting perhaps of cooked rice, boiled peas, fish, cocoa-nut cakes, cucumbers, or even curried flesh and fowl, usually wrapped separately in plantain-leaves. Next the bowls are washed, and a few hymns are chanted before the Buddha’s image. During the succeeding hour the boy-scholars are allowed to play about, while the monks pass their time in conversation, and the Abbot receives people who come to pay their respects. All visitors prostrate themselves before him three times, once for the Buddha, once for the Law, and once for the Monkhood. The Abbot in return says: ‘May the supporter’ (so he calls all laymen; compare [p. 89]), ‘as a reward for merit, be freed from the three calamities (of war, pestilence, and famine)!’ At about half-past eleven the last regular meal of the day is eaten. Monks are forbidden to eat after noon. When the mid-day meal is over, all return to work. Some undertake the teaching of the boy-scholars. Others read the texts of the Tri-piṭaka with their commentaries, or superintend the writers who are copying manuscripts. Some of the older members of the monastery talk with the idlers, who are to be found lounging about the precincts, and some sink into deep meditation, which probably ends in deep sleep.
Yet this profound meditation is believed to be all important, for is it not the path to Arhatship, to Nirvāṇa, and to the acquisition of supernatural faculties (see p. 245)? Other monks tell the beads of their rosaries and repeat the prescribed formularies, such as: ‘All is changeful, all is sorrowful, all is unreal,’ followed by invocations to the three holies (see [p. 175]). Between three and four o’clock the lessons are finished, and the scholars perform any domestic duties required in the monastery. This is the chief return for the teaching they receive. Then most of the pupils go to their own homes for dinner. As to the youthful novices or junior monks, these are all obliged to fast like the full monks. Many of them go out with some of the senior monks for a solemn walk. Then at sunset the far-reaching notes of the bell summon the walkers back to the monastery. All must be within the walls before the sun goes down. The day’s duties now draw to a close. The boy-pupils are made to repeat all they have learned during the day, and some of the Pāli rituals are chanted ‘with spasmodic energy.’ At half-past eight or nine there are further recitations before the image of the Buddha. All assemble, as in the morning, and together intone the hymns. When the last sound of the chant has died away, one of the novices stands up and proclaims the hour, day of the week, day of the month, and number of the year. Then all bow before the Buddha’s image, and thrice before the Head of the monastery, and retire to rest (see Shway Yoe’s ‘Burman’).
It is noteworthy that severe asceticism and painful austerities—as practised among the Hindūs from the earliest times up to the present day (described at pp. [228]-230 of this volume)—form no part of the duties of Buddhist monks; for Buddhism has never sanctioned bodily torture, as Brāhmanism has done.
We now pass on to a description of the observances usual during the period of Vassa (see pp. [82]-84).