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Eating as Spiritual Practice

An Introduction to Food at Sravasti Abbey

AN INTRODUCTION to how food fits into our spiritual practice at Sravasti Abbey will help to set the stage. It may startle you to learn that we don’t buy any of our food and eat only what is offered to us. Rather than catering to our preoccupation and enthusiasm for food and drink, we are encouraged to cultivate an honest and beneficial relationship with our daily bread, nourishing the seeds of our simplified way of life and our altruistic aspirations. We are vegetarian, and although we eat to sustain our lives so we can engage in spiritual practice and benefit others, I must confess that sweets sneak onto the buffet table from time to time.

Everything we eat is visible to others. We fill our bowls with food on the buffet table that has been offered for community consumption. Equality in sharing resources is important for community harmony, so snacks that everyone can have are placed on a special counter. According to Vinaya — the monastic discipline established by the Buddha—we cannot go into the kitchen, where food offered to the entire community is kept, to serve ourselves or to raid the refrigerator. There are no private stashes of chocolate, energy bars, and so forth in our rooms.

Having a predictable daily schedule helps us to regulate our appetites: breakfast, lunch, and medicine meal are served at 7:30 a.m., 12:00 p.m., and 6:00 p.m. The meals are simple, avoiding complicated and time-consuming recipes and allowing us to appreciate the natural goodness of fruits, vegetables, grains, and beans. Helping with the preparation, cooking, and cleanup adds to our contentment and the gratitude that we have for our food and all the people involved in growing, transporting, offering, and preparing it. Chanting while receiving and offering the food and dedicating the merit for all our supporters brings us into the present moment with gratitude. Normally we eat the first part of our meal in silence, which enables us to enjoy our meal with a calm, unhurried mental state. During retreats, the entire meal is usually eaten in silence, giving us the chance to spend time alone with our own thoughts and to connect with others in the peaceful medium of silence.

Although some of this may seem extreme (“You don’t buy food?! Won’t you starve?!”) or downright impossible (“How can I eat in silence when I’m feeding a toddler and my infant starts to wail?”), keep an open, playful mind and see what fits you and your situation, and what you could adapt so that it works for you.

An Economy of Generosity: The Heart Connection between Monastics and Lay Followers

At the time of the Buddha, the various groups of renunciates in India lived a simple lifestyle. A significant part of that involved going on alms round in the villages, where families who respected the renunciates’ spiritual goals and practice offered them food. As this was the socially accepted custom, the Buddha lived likewise. After his awakening, when disciples gathered around him, the Sangha — the community of monastics — arose, and the Buddha stipulated that they, too, would go on alms round.

Alms round, or pindapat, is not begging. The Sangha did not ask for food; they silently stood in front of a house with their alms bowls. If families wished to offer food, they would put it in the bowls. If they did not, after a minute or two, the monastics would go to the next house and do the same.

Once the populace saw the qualities of the Buddha’s Sangha, those with means began to invite these monastics into their homes for meals. After the meal, one of the Sangha members would give a teaching. It was a beautiful interchange based on an economy of generosity, with lay followers offering food that nourishes the body and the Sangha offering the Dharma that nourishes the heart and mind. In this way, a relationship of interdependence between the Sangha and the lay community arose. Everybody benefited not only from receiving from the other but also, and especially, from cultivating a motivation of benevolence and care when making their respective offering.

The Sangha wandered from one village to another; they settled in one place only during the three months of varsa — the retreat during the monsoon months. At that time, wealthy donors would offer accommodation and food and the Sangha would dwell in viharas — simple buildings offered by the benefactors, often in a park. After the Buddha’s passing, the Sangha began to establish communities and later monasteries. Lay followers would bring food to the monasteries, and the Sangha would teach them the Dharma and encourage them to live by the five lay precepts.1 Twice a month, on new- and full-moon days, lay followers went to the monasteries to receive the eight precepts, which they kept for one day.2 On that day, they practiced the Dharma together with the Sangha.

When Buddhism spread through South and Southeast Asia, the climate and culture were conducive for maintaining the tradition of going on alms round. In China and Tibet this was not the case, and so the Sangha’s way of procuring food changed. In Chinese Chan (Zen) monasteries they often grew their food, and in China and Tibet lay followers would bring groceries or cooked food to monasteries to offer to the Sangha. In modern-day America, going on alms round would present interesting challenges. Some of our friends at a Zen monastery wanted to go on alms round in their local town, and the town council required them to get a parade permit to do it!

In establishing Sravasti Abbey, I wanted to duplicate the interdependent relationship between the Sangha and the lay community but in a more modern context that is convenient for our supporters. The Abbey is twenty minutes’ drive from our one-stoplight town of Newport, WA, and about an hour and a quarter to the closest cities of Spokane and Coeur d’Alene. Going on alms round would not work, and having lay followers bring cooked food to the monastery every day would be asking too much of supporters who were busy with family and work. So I resolved that we would eat only the food that was offered to us, although we would store it and prepare it ourselves.

When I first mentioned this to others, people protested, “But you’re going to starve!” It’s true, there are hardly any Buddhists in the area (the Abbey is in a conservative, rural area), but I wanted to try it anyway. The day the original residents of the Abbey—two cats and I — moved in, the few local Buddhists had filled the fridge and cupboards with food. They later organized among themselves to bring food weekly, which I appreciated greatly. Only on one occasion was the fridge empty (there was still canned food in the cupboards), and that was only for a day or two. We haven’t starved and instead have been the recipients of tremendous generosity that we do our best to repay through our practice and teaching.

A few months after I moved to the Abbey, someone at the Spokesman-Review, the main newspaper in Spokane, called and asked to do an article about the Abbey. During the interview, she asked how we maintained ourselves. I responded that we were supported solely by donations and told her about eating only the food others had offered. She mentioned this in the article, and a day or two later a person we had never met arrived at the Abbey with an SUV completely full of food. We were speechless.

We have many courses and retreats open to the public. On our website and when people register for events, we explain that everyone here eats only the food that is offered. The retreatants and guests bring food to offer to the Sangha, and the Sangha then shares it with everyone who visits us, no matter how long they stay. Due to people’s generosity, we’ve always had enough to feed thirty to fifty-five people for at least four days. Occasionally we have surplus, which we offer to either the local food bank or to Youth Emergency Services of Pend Oreille County, a nonprofit supporting homeless teenagers, where two Abbey monastics serve on the board of directors.

Some of our friends who live far away also want to offer food to the Abbey. The local Buddhists have arranged for them to send funds that the locals then use to purchase food, which they bring to the Abbey. They usually call or email us once a week to say they would like to make a food offering and ask what would be helpful. For years now, they have faithfully made weekly food offerings, even during winter snowstorms and roasting summer days. Other people send us care packages with dry goods or home-baked goods. People’s generosity is astounding.

Feeling their kindness, we want to reciprocate. The Abbey does not charge for anything — room, board, or teachings. Dharma books are given freely, with a donation basket nearby. We have an online education program — Sravasti Abbey Friends Education (SAFE) — as well as thousands of teachings on YouTube and two websites full of Dharma materials. All of this is freely offered. We want to be generous, too.

To reinforce this economy of generosity, I wrote verses that people recite when they offer groceries to the Abbey. Everyone — guests and monastics alike — gathers around a large alms bowl that contains a portion of the food that is offered. The guests then recite the verse of offering; it is not uncommon for them to choke up and hold back tears while they are reading it:

With a mind that takes delight in giving, I offer these requisites to the Sangha and the community. Through my offering may they have the food they need to sustain their Dharma practice. They are genuine Dharma friends who encourage, support, and inspire me along the path. May they become realized practitioners and skilled teachers who will guide us on the path. I rejoice at creating great merit by offering to those intent on virtue, and dedicate this for the awakening of all sentient beings. Through my generosity, may we all have conducive circumstances to develop heartfelt love, compassion, and altruism for each other, and to realize the ultimate nature of reality.

The Sangha then replies:

Your generosity is inspiring, and we are humbled by your faith in the Three Jewels. We will endeavor to keep our precepts as best as we can, to live simply, to cultivate equanimity, love, compassion, and joy, and to realize the ultimate nature so that we can repay your kindness in sustaining our lives. Although we are not perfect, we will do our best to be worthy of your offering. Together we will create peace in a chaotic world.

This reply emphasizes that by working together monastics and lay followers aim to create peace in a chaotic world. As the Sangha recites this verse, we are reminded that we have food to eat due to the kindness of other people who work hard and then choose, out of the goodness of their hearts, to share their food with us. To repay their kindness in sustaining our lives, we must hold our precepts and uphold the Dharma as best as we can. To be worthy of their faith and generosity, we must study, contemplate, and meditate, and also share the Dharma with others.

We gently remind the lay people that we are not perfect, because sometimes people think that anyone wearing robes must be near Buddhahood and will never make mistakes. We are not perfect, but we are very committed to working on our minds and holding our ethical precepts as best as we can.

In this brief exchange when food is respectfully offered and gratefully received, we remember our interdependent nature. Because everyone — monastics and lay followers — has a wholesome motivation and a generous heart, we all create merit. This is very different from someone bringing food and tossing it on the counter, saying, “Here you go.” Families can adapt this ritual. As a child, I would have been more aware of my parents’ kindness and hard work had we done a simple exchange like this. Instead, I selfishly expected food to be there and complained when it wasn’t what I liked.

The local supporters made another request: “We want to make sure our mind has a Dharma motivation when we go shopping for the groceries. Please write a verse that we can recite and contemplate before going into the store.” So I wrote the following verse:

Offering food sustains the lives of others. I delight in providing physical nourishment to the Sangha, knowing that their practice and the teachings they give as a result of it will nourish my heart and the hearts of many others. I will have a calm heart and mind while mindfully selecting appropriate items to offer, and will have a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that the Sangha appreciates this offering. We have a heart connection, and together we will create peace in a chaotic world.

Our volunteers have reported that pausing and contemplating this verse has helped them to think about the import of what they were doing, instead of simply rushing through the grocery store in order to check it off their to-do list. The words emphasize cultivating a good motivation and being aware of the positive results our actions will have on others and on ourselves. That is how we’ve organized the offering and receiving of food at the Abbey since its inception in 2003.

Inside the Abbey’s Kitchen

The practice of going on alms round in the Buddha’s time meant that monastics could not prepare or ask for the food they liked. We are to eat whatever we receive with gratitude. To do this, we have to work with our attachment to certain foods and shift our attention from liking or disliking the taste and texture of particular foods to awareness of the kindness of others for sustaining our lives.

Not preparing food also prevented monastics from killing worms in fruit and vegetables when washing or cooking them. The Buddha did not consider plants to be sentient beings: even though they are biologically alive, they lack consciousness. However, the Jains considered plants to be sentient. So that people would not criticize the Buddha’s monastics unnecessarily for harming living beings by cooking vegetables that may contain insects, the Buddha asked lay followers to prepare and cook the meals.

Nowadays, reducing attachment to favorite foods is a necessary and important practice, but inadvertently killing worms and other insects while preparing the food is not a big concern as most store-bought produce does not have these. However, when people offer us fruits and vegetables that were grown in their family gardens, we look out for insects and take care not to harm them.

Unlike in ancient India, women as well as men are now in the workforce. The Abbey’s supporters cannot take time off of work to drive over an hour to the Abbey, prepare a meal for a number of people, and then drive back to their workplace in the city. Being sensitive to the needs of lay supporters, as the Buddha himself was, we decided that we would prepare our food. This has another practical component as well: the state requires cooks at the Abbey to have a food preparation license. Monastics take the test for this license, so they become the head cooks, while guests assist in chopping vegetables and other tasks.

To help us cultivate detachment, we practice eating whatever is served. While our meals are simple, they offer enough variety so everyone can find something to eat. We prepare side dishes for those who require gluten-free or dairy-free diets. On days that the menu isn’t exactly what we prefer, we practice eating what is offered with gratitude, remembering that many people on this planet lack even food for subsistence. To be honest, that doesn’t mean nobody complains. However, complaints are not indulged and people are reminded of the verse we recite before eating, “By seeing this food as medicine, I will consume it without attachment or complaint.” I encourage people to remember our motivation: “We are here to train our mind, tune in to our Buddha nature, and create peace in a chaotic world.”

Monastics take turns cooking. Each morning the community has a fifteen- to twenty-minute stand-up meeting where we share how we will offer service that day. To help us set our motivation for the ensuing activities—be they cooking, working in the forest, transcribing teachings, or preparing Dharma talks — we recite the following verse together:

We are grateful for the opportunity to offer service to the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, and to sentient beings. While working with others, differences in ideas and ways of doing things may arise. These are natural and are a source of creative exchange; our minds don’t need to make them into conflicts. We will endeavor to listen deeply and communicate wisely and kindly as we work together for our common goal. By using our body and speech to support the values we deeply believe in — generosity, kindness, ethical conduct, love, and compassion — we will create great merit, which we dedicate for the awakening of all beings.

In a family setting, this verse could be adapted and recited by the whole family before each family member embarks on doing his or her chores. Seeing chores as “offering service” rather than “work” changes our attitude and our mood. When parents and children recite this verse together, they remember that everyone participates and contributes to the well-being of the family. Friends of the Abbey have brought this verse into their workplace, and even to office meetings.

Before beginning to prepare the meal, the cooks for that day gather together in the kitchen and recite and contemplate this verse:

We will offer service by preparing a meal for the community of Dharma practitioners. We are fortunate to have the opportunity to prepare and cook this food. The food will nourish their bodies and the love we put into preparing it will nourish their hearts. Preparing food is an expression of our kind heart. When we chop, mix, and cook, we will work with mindfulness and a relaxed mind. We will leave aside idle talk, and speak with gentle and low voices. The menu will be simple and healthy, free from the distraction of elaborate and complicated menus. We will wash the veggies and fruits well, thinking that we are cleansing defilements from the minds of sentient beings with the nectar of wisdom. Out of consideration for those who will clean up after the meal, we will tidy up after ourselves. Let’s take joy in working harmoniously together for the benefit of all!

This verse, too, can be said in a family. It transforms our motivation from “I have to cook (sigh)” to “I have the opportunity to be of benefit to others.” It also gives children a way to join in food preparation and to be in contact with fresh food, rather than fast food.

At lunchtime, the bell at the Abbey is rung and the conch blown to call everyone to the dining room. Before eating, we have a short Dharma talk. We post this on the Abbey’s YouTube channel later in the day to share with others. You can watch these BBC talks and more at youtube.com/​sravastiabbey. The playlist of the latest BBC (Bodhisattva’s Breakfast Corner) talks is at https://www.youtube.com/​user/​sravastiabbey/​playlists?view=1&sort=dd.