A “clay Bodhisattva” is an analogy for a cultivator who, with little virtue and an insufficient knowledge of the Dharma, tries too soon to preach it. I learned this truth the hard way. After studying the Buddhadharma for many years, I thought I was able to explain it to my sons; I thought I could influence them to do good and avoid evil, and to cultivate the teachings of the Buddha. I was wrong.

Our seven sons and their families traditionally met twice a year. On those occasions, I used to speak at length, hoping that my relatives would adopt a Buddhist lifestyle and be less immersed in worldly pursuits. The children politely stayed quiet whenever I spoke, but my efforts brought no significant change in their lives. Then one day the Venerable Master allowed my wife and me to leave the home-life. The intention of leaving home had germinated and grown in our minds for several years. But because of our karmic obstacles, it seemed that we merely paid lip service to monastic life without any serious resolve. 

In October of 1994, our heads were shaved, and we happily bid farewell to our mundane possessions—houses, jobs, business. Less than five months later, our third son also left the home-life at Long Beach Monastery. Some of his brothers witnessed the moving ceremony, and of course, we were there, with tears in our eyes. The same day, our fourth son, who had been considered the most knowledgeable about Buddhism in our family, took refuge with the Venerable Master and received the precepts. He is a tenured professor at Long Beach University and has influenced his brothers to draw close to Buddhism.

May the seeds of the Buddhadharma that have been sown in our small family grow well and enable us to repay one billionth part of the Venerable Master's kindness. I pray that in life after life, those who have been our relatives will never again have family relationships with us. May we instead cultivate together as Dharma brothers until we all attain enlightenment.