Chapter 7Taking Refuge

We now enter the second part of Patrul Rinpoche's great teaching -- the Extraordinary or Inner Preliminaries. Everything we contemplated before, from the preciousness of human birth to the workings of karma, has been preparing us for this moment. And the very first step on this inner path, the foundation stone upon which everything else will rest, is taking refuge.

If the outer preliminaries turned our minds toward the Dharma, taking refuge is where we actually step through the door. It is the single act that distinguishes a Buddhist from a non-Buddhist, the commitment that transforms all our spiritual aspirations from vague longing into a living, breathing path. Without it, no vow can truly be taken, no practice can bear its deepest fruit. With it, we have placed our feet upon the road that leads, ultimately, to complete awakening.

But what opens the gateway to taking refuge? It is faith.

The Seed of Faith

Patrul Rinpoche teaches that faith is like a seed from which everything positive can grow. Without faith, it is as though that seed has been scorched by fire -- no green shoot will ever sprout from it. Faith is the most precious of all our inner resources. It carries us along the path to liberation like a pair of strong legs; it gathers up everything virtuous for us like a pair of capable arms. Of the seven noble riches spoken of in the teachings, faith is considered the most important.

There are three kinds of faith, and each one has its own quality.

The first is vivid faith -- that spontaneous, shining feeling of inspiration that arises in us when we encounter something sacred. We might feel it upon entering a temple filled with statues and paintings of the Buddhas. We might feel it when we meet a great teacher for the first time, or even just hear about the extraordinary qualities and life story of a realized master. It is that immediate sense of awe and wonder, a kind of luminous opening of the heart that needs no reasoning to justify itself.

The second is eager faith -- the heartfelt longing that arises when we truly understand the nature of suffering and happiness. When we hear about the torments of the lower realms, a powerful wish to be free of them stirs within us. When we learn about the bliss of liberation, we feel drawn toward it with our whole being. When we understand the benefits of virtuous action and the harm caused by negative deeds, a deep eagerness arises to practice what is wholesome and abandon what is harmful.

The third, and most essential, is confident faith. This is the unshakeable trust that arises from the depths of our hearts once we genuinely understand the extraordinary qualities of the Three Jewels -- the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha -- and the power of their blessings. It is the kind of trust that says: these are my only unfailing refuge, always and in all circumstances, whether I am happy or sad, in pain or at ease, living or dying. This faith is not blind; it is born from deep understanding, and once it takes root, it cannot be overturned.

Now, the compassion and blessings of the Three Jewels are beyond anything we can conceive. But their ability to reach us depends entirely upon our faith and devotion. If we possess immense faith, the compassion and blessings we receive will be equally immense. If our faith is moderate, the blessings that reach us will also be moderate. And if we have no faith or devotion at all, we will receive absolutely nothing. Even meeting the Buddha in person and being accepted as his disciple would be of no use without faith -- as was the case for the monk Sunaksatra and the Buddha's own cousin Devadatta, whose stories we encountered in previous chapters.

Yet whenever the Buddha is called upon with sincere faith, he is right there, bestowing his blessings. As the Great Master Padmasambhava himself declared: for all who think of him with faith, he has never departed -- he sleeps beside their very door. For him there is no such thing as death. Before each person who has faith, there is a Padmasambhava.

The Dog's Tooth and the Power of Belief

When confident faith is present, the Buddha's compassion can manifest through anything at all. Patrul Rinpoche illustrates this with one of the most beloved stories in the Tibetan tradition.

There was once an old woman whose son was a trader who frequently traveled to India on business. She said to him one day: "Bodh Gaya is in India -- the very place where the perfectly enlightened Buddha attained awakening. Please bring me back some special relic so that I can make my prostrations to it." She asked him again and again, but her son kept forgetting, and he never brought her what she had requested.

Finally, as he was preparing to leave once more, she said to him with great urgency: "This time, if you fail to bring me something for my prostrations, I shall kill myself right in front of you."

The son traveled to India, completed his business, and set off for home -- once again having completely forgotten his mother's plea. It was only as he neared his house that her words came flooding back to him. Panicked, he looked around and spotted a dog's skull lying on the ground nearby. He pulled out one of its teeth, wrapped it carefully in silk, and when he arrived home, he presented it to his mother, saying, "Here is one of the Buddha's canine teeth. You can use it as a support for your prayers."

The old woman believed him completely. She had such tremendous faith in that tooth, treating it exactly as though it were a genuine relic of the Buddha himself. She performed prostrations and made offerings before it constantly. And from that dog's tooth, miraculous pearl-like relics actually began to appear. When the old woman eventually died, a canopy of rainbow light appeared around her body, along with other unmistakable signs of spiritual accomplishment.

The tooth itself, of course, contained no inherent blessings. But the old woman's faith was so powerful and so pure that through it, the Buddha's blessings were able to flow. In the end, that dog's tooth was in no way different from a genuine relic of the Buddha.

Jowo Ben and the Smiling Statue

Another story that Patrul Rinpoche tells with evident delight is that of a simple-minded fellow from the province of Kongpo, who came to be known as Jowo Ben. He made a journey to central Tibet to see the famous Jowo Rinpoche -- the great statue of the Buddha in Lhasa.

When he arrived at the temple, there was no caretaker or anyone else around. He saw the food offerings and the butter lamps glowing before the statue and, in his innocence, imagined that the Jowo must dip pieces of the offering cakes into the melted butter and eat them. He figured the wicks were lit simply to keep the butter in liquid form.

"I think I had better eat some, the way Jowo Rinpoche does," he thought. So he dunked a piece of the offering dough into the butter and ate it. Then he looked up at the smiling face of the statue and said, "What a nice lama you are! Even when dogs come and steal the food offered to you, you just keep smiling. When the wind makes your lamps gutter, you still keep smiling."

Then he took off his boots and placed them in front of the statue. "Here," he said, "please look after these for me while I walk around you." And off he went to circumambulate the temple.

While he was walking around the outer path, the caretaker returned and saw the boots placed before the sacred image. He was about to throw them out when the statue spoke: "Do not throw those boots away. Kongpo Ben has entrusted them to me!"

When Ben came back and collected his boots, he looked up at the Jowo and said, "You really are what they call a good lama! Next year, why don't you come and visit us? I will slaughter an old pig and cook it for you, and brew you up some nice barley beer."

"I will come," said the Jowo.

Ben returned home and told his wife to keep an eye out for the Jowo's arrival. A year went by. Then one day, while drawing water from the river, his wife saw the reflection of Jowo Rinpoche shining clearly in the water. She ran home and told her husband that something extraordinary was down at the river -- perhaps it was the guest he had invited.

Ben rushed to the riverbank. Seeing the Jowo's image in the water and thinking the lama must have fallen in, he jumped right in after him. And, remarkably, he was able to actually catch hold of the image and bring it along with him. As they made their way toward Ben's house, they came to a huge rock by the side of the road. The Jowo would not go any further. "I do not enter laypeople's homes," he said, and disappeared into the rock.

That place came to be known as Jowo Dole, and the river where the image appeared is called Jowo River. To this day, it is said to confer the same blessings as the Jowo statue in Lhasa. Through the power of his utterly guileless and firm faith, this simple man experienced the living compassion of the Buddha. Eating butter from the lamps and placing his boots before the sacred image -- acts that would normally be considered scandalous sacrilege -- were all transformed into something positive by the sheer power of his faith.

Three Levels of Motivation

Having established the vital importance of faith, Patrul Rinpoche turns to the question of motivation. Why do we take refuge? The answer determines the entire scope and depth of our practice, and there are three levels.

The first is the motivation of lesser beings. Driven by fear of the sufferings in the hell realms, the hungry ghost realms, and the animal realms, we seek refuge simply to obtain the happiness enjoyed by gods and humans. This is a start, but it aims no higher than temporary well-being within the cycle of existence.

The second is the motivation of middling beings. Recognizing that even the happiness of the higher realms is impermanent and ultimately not free from suffering, we seek refuge with the aim of attaining nirvana for ourselves -- a state of peace, free from the endless turning of samsara's wheel.

The third, and the one Patrul Rinpoche urges us to adopt, is the motivation of great beings. Here, we look out upon the vast ocean of samsara and see all beings -- every one of whom has been our own father or mother in countless past lives -- drowning in an unimaginable variety of sufferings. We cannot bear to seek liberation for ourselves alone while they remain trapped. So we take refuge in the Three Jewels with the vast and courageous aspiration that every single being, without exception, may be established in the unsurpassable state of complete and perfect Buddhahood.

The happiness of gods and humans, though it appears desirable, is not true happiness: the moment the good karma that produced it is exhausted, beings fall back into the lower realms. And even the peace of individual nirvana, though it brings freedom from suffering, benefits ourselves alone. When all beings -- our mothers and fathers from beginningless time -- are sinking in samsara's infinite ocean of pain, how could we not try to help them? This is the way of great beings, and it is the gateway to infinite merit.

The Visualization and the Refuge Prayer

Having developed the right faith and motivation, we move to the actual practice. The visualization Patrul Rinpoche describes is extraordinarily rich and detailed, a magnificent inner landscape that transforms the place where we sit into a Buddhafield.

We imagine before us a great wish-fulfilling tree with five branches spreading out in the four directions and the center. On the central branch sits our own root teacher in the form of the great Padmasambhava, radiant and white with a rosy glow, holding a golden vajra and a skull cup containing the vase of deathless wisdom. Above his head, all the teachers of the lineage are seated one above the other, stretching upward like a golden chain of blessings.

Around the other branches, we visualize the Buddhas of past, present, and future; the great Bodhisattvas headed by Manjushri, Vajrapani, and Avalokiteshvara; the noble community of Shravakas and Pratyekabuddhas; and piles of sacred texts representing the Dharma, resonating with the spontaneous melody of vowels and consonants. Between the branches, the Dharma protectors stand guard -- the males facing outward to prevent obstacles from entering, the females facing inward to keep accomplishments from leaking away.

We imagine ourselves standing before this vast assembly, our father on our right, our mother on our left, and all the sentient beings of the six realms gathered in an immense crowd covering the surface of the earth. Interestingly, Patrul Rinpoche instructs us to place our enemies and those who have harmed us at the very front of this crowd, in the first row. Why? Because in the Mahayana path, the practice of patience is one of the most powerful ways to accumulate merit. And it is precisely our enemies who give us the opportunity to practice patience. As the Omniscient Longchenpa wrote: assailed by afflictions, we discover the Dharma and find the way to liberation -- so we should actually be grateful to those who cause us adversity, for they drive us toward the path.

Then, with all these beings, we recite the refuge prayer with burning conviction, expressing with body, speech, and mind our complete trust in the teacher and the Three Jewels. The prayer from the Heart-essence of the Vast Expanse says:

In the Sugatas of the Three Roots, the true Three Jewels, In the bodhicitta, nature of the channels, energies and essences, And in the mandala of essential nature, natural expression and compassion, I take refuge until I reach the heart of enlightenment.

This prayer is to be recited as many times as possible in each session, with the goal of completing at least one hundred thousand repetitions.

Living with the Refuge

Between sessions, Patrul Rinpoche teaches, we should never separate from the presence of the refuge deities. When walking, we visualize them in the space above our right shoulder and imagine we are circumambulating them. When sitting, we see them above the crown of our head as the support for our prayers. When eating, we visualize them at our throat and offer the first portion of our food and drink. When going to sleep, we see them dwelling in our heart center, and we fall asleep with our mind resting upon them. This practice, he says, is essential for dissolving the delusions of ordinary appearance into clear light.

At the conclusion of each session, we visualize that rays of light stream out from the refuge deities, touching us and all sentient beings. Like a flock of birds scattered by a slingstone, we all fly upward and dissolve into the assembly of deities. The surrounding deities then melt into light and dissolve into the central teacher. The teacher himself dissolves into light. And we rest, for as long as we can, in the primordial state free from all elaboration -- the dharmakaya, without any movement of thought.

The Precepts of Refuge

Taking refuge carries with it certain commitments, which Patrul Rinpoche presents in three groups.

The three things to be abandoned: Having taken refuge in the Buddha, we do not pay homage to worldly gods and spirits as our ultimate refuge. Having taken refuge in the Dharma, we do not harm others -- not even in our dreams. Having taken refuge in the Sangha, we do not fall in with those who denigrate the teachings or insult the teacher.

The three things to be done: Having taken refuge in the Buddha, we honor even the smallest fragment of a statue as the true Buddha. Having taken refuge in the Dharma, we treat even a scrap of paper bearing a single syllable of scripture with reverence. Having taken refuge in the Sangha, we respect even a patch of saffron or maroon cloth as the true Sangha.

The three supplementary precepts: We look upon our teacher as the living Buddha, we accept the teacher's every word as the living Dharma, and we regard the teacher's disciples and our spiritual companions as the living Sangha. In the Secret Mantra Vehicle especially, the teacher is recognized as the quintessential union of all Three Jewels -- his body is the Sangha, his speech is the Dharma, and his mind is the Buddha.

Above all, Patrul Rinpoche tells us, we should recognize the Buddha's compassion in everything that helps us and makes us happy -- even the slightest breeze on a hot day. Whenever sickness or suffering befalls us, we should simply pray to the Three Jewels and not rely on any other method. Whatever happens, good or bad, we should never forget to take refuge. We should train ourselves until even in the midst of a nightmare, we remember to call upon the Three Jewels -- for that means we will also remember to do so in the intermediate state after death.

The Commitment That Cannot Be Surrendered

How seriously should we take this commitment? Patrul Rinpoche tells us of a Buddhist lay practitioner in India who was captured by non-Buddhists. They told him plainly: if he renounced taking refuge in the Three Jewels, they would spare his life. Otherwise, they would put him to death.

He replied simply: "I can only renounce taking refuge with my mouth. I could never do so with my heart."

So they killed him.

This, Patrul Rinpoche says, is the kind of conviction we should aspire to. Once we give up the refuge in the Three Jewels, no matter how profound the practices we might undertake, we are no longer even part of the Buddhist community. It is the refuge alone that makes the difference. The great Jowo Atisha knew every single teaching in the vast collections of sutra and tantra. But of all of them, he considered the refuge to be of such primary importance that it was the one thing he always taught his disciples -- to the point where people affectionately nicknamed him "the Refuge Pandita."

The Boundless Benefits

The benefits of taking refuge are said to be truly immeasurable. By simply taking refuge, we plant the seed of liberation within ourselves. We become a vessel for all vows and all good qualities. Past negative actions are gradually purified. Our thoughts become increasingly positive, and we naturally move away from harm. The story is told of King Ajatasatru, who had committed the terrible act of killing his own father. Yet because he later took refuge in the Three Jewels with sincere faith, he suffered the agonies of hell for only one week and was then freed.

Even the most tenuous connection with the Three Jewels can plant the seed of future awakening. In the Vinaya, we hear of a dog that chased a pig around a sacred monument. Through that accidental circumambulation, the seed of enlightenment was sown in both of them. In another account, three people attained Buddhahood through a single small clay statue: the one who molded it, the one who covered it with an old shoe sole to protect it from the rain, and the one who later removed the shoe sole thinking it disrespectful. All three, through their good intentions, inherited kingdoms in their next lives and progressed steadily toward full awakening.

Taking refuge also provides powerful protection in this very life. Patrul Rinpoche shares a humorous story of someone who caught a thief and gave him a thorough beating, accompanying each blow with a line of the refuge prayer. Having thoroughly imprinted those words in the robber's mind, he let him go. That night, the thief found himself sleeping under a bridge, his mind filled with the words of the prayer along with the vivid memory of each painful strike. While he lay there, a whole troop of demons approached over the bridge. But then they cried out in alarm: "There is someone here who takes refuge in the Three Jewels!" And they all fled, screaming.

There is no better way to dispel the difficulties of this life than to take refuge from the very bottom of one's heart. And in future lives, the merit of this practice is said to be so vast that if it took physical form, the whole of space would not be large enough to contain it.

Devote yourself earnestly, therefore, to taking refuge -- the basis of all Dharma practices -- for its benefits are truly beyond measure.