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RANKING OF MERIT-MAKING ACTS

We have now arrived at a point where we can make a rough estimate of
the villagers' orientation to and evaluation of various kinds of religious
action subsumed under the concept of thambun or merit-making.

A sample (seventy-nine) of family heads were requested to rank eight
types of religious acts which were presented in a random order. Table 4
presents the rank distributions. While, of course, there was no complete
agreement among villagers, it is remarkable that the distribution showed
a noticeable pattern and that the majority of respondents were by and
large agreed on the hierarchical position of each category of action in
relation to the rest.

The final hierarchy can be reduced to six positions:

1. completely financing the building of a wat—this is the act par
excellence that brings most merit;

TABLE 4. Ranking of religious acts by seventy-nine family heads

                     

	Number of persons assigning to each rank
	Highest rank							Lowest rank	Final rank
Categories of religious acts	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8
Financing entire building of a wat	67	5	6	1	—	—	—	—	1
Becoming a monk oneself	6	36	29	5	1	2	—	—}	2
Having a son become a monk	5	34	32	7	1	—	—	—
Contributing money to the repair of a wat	—	4	—	31	35	6	1	2}	3
Making gifts at a kathin[3] ceremony	—	—	3	29	29	6	5	7
Giving food daily to monks	1	2	7	5	2	30	14	18	4
Observing every wanphraa at the wat	—	—	—	1	10	27	22	19	5
Strict observance of the five precepts	—	—	—	—	1	9	36	33	6

2. either becoming a monk oneself or having a son become a monk;

3. contributing money to the repair of a wat or making kathin (post-Lent
ceremony) gifts;

4. giving food daily to the monks;

5. observing every wanphraa;

6. strictly observing the five precepts.

There are several implications in this pattern of evaluation. The most
conspicuous act of merit-making by a layman—building a wat—is open
only to the rich; it represents an outstanding act of financial charity.
However, an ordinary layman can either become a monk or have a son
become one, and this also rates high. Thus a lowly villager is not excluded
from making great merit—although in actual life sponsoring an ordination
ceremony requires a financial outlay, and a family should be in a position
to dispense with a son's labour so that he can temporarily withdraw
from the world. Despite these limitations, having a son ordained is
a realistic possibility for most village households.[4]

Ranking next are gift-giving or money contributions of an order that
again implies a drain on household resources. Many villagers make such
donations, although the wealthier among them make conspicuously larger
presentations.

Giving food daily to the monks is possible for almost every village
household—for it involves only the setting apart of a portion of the family's
cooked food. Since it is a daily act and relatively inexpensive, and because
almost all indulge in it, it has a low position with no scarcity value.

A remarkable aspect is that the specifically `Buddhistic way of life' is
ranked lowest. Observing wanphraa at the wat and strict observance of
the precepts—both of which connote individual ethical or moralistic
conduct—seem not to be valued highly.

On the whole then we must conclude that merit-making through gift-giving
is more valued than merit-making through the observance of
Buddhistic precepts and the pursuit of Buddhistic ethical aims. But here
certain nuances have to be introduced in order to get the picture right.

Strict observance of the five precepts (especially that exhorting avoidance
of killing) and meditation on the philosophical assertions of the Dhamma
have little positive interest for the villager, either because lay life is not
possible without breaking some of the prohibitions or because one must
renounce lay life altogether to pursue such aims. He therefore rates these
pursuits, in so far as they have relevance for his life, low on the merit-making
scale; this is not because he devalues them but because they are not
normally open to him. Moreover, these pursuits, the core of Buddhistic
striving, are thought to have pertinence primarily for the monk and
secondarily for the aged approaching death. The way of the monk is
different from that of the householder, and the monks' way of life is
accorded the more meritorious status.

This structuring of the divergent but reciprocal orientations of monk
and layman rests on two paradoxes. As Obeyesekere (1968, p. 38) has
put it, `the self-denials of the extreme ascetic may serve as models for
the good life of the ordinary man', not so much models to be imitated,
for lay life makes that impossible, but because as Durkheim (1926, p. 316)
perceived, `It is necessary that an elite put the end too high, if the crowd
is not to put it too low'.

But this very proposition itself rests on another paradox: it is because
the ordinary man labours in this world and takes on himself the burdens
of polluting activities that the religious specialist can be freed to pursue
purity freed from the world's contaminations. The monks do not kill
but must be provided with meat; they do not cook rice or make curries,
for this, too, is taking life, but rice and curries are lovingly cooked for

1a Image of the Buddha seated on and
being shielded by the seven-headed
royal Naga (snake), Muchalinda (see
Chapters 7 and 10)

1b Mortuary rites: on the third day after
cremation, the bones are collected in
a pot, and the monks are here seen
chanting and transferring merit to the
deceased before the pot is buried (see
Chapter 11)

2 The Bun Kathin procession at the end of Lent. In front are men sweeping the ground, and a man carrying the
Buddha image, followed by monks and laymen carrying money trees, gifts and flags (see Chapter 10)

them; they do not weave cloth but cloth is woven and dyed for them;
they cannot build monasteries but these are built for them by lay benefactors.
Seculars receive and pay out money on their behalf because
a monk cannot touch it without breaking a monastic rule. In the past land
was endowed to major wat, and lay trustees supervised and serfs cultivated
so that the monks might be maintained and could be free of the danger
of destroying life by digging the earth. Monks cannot replace themselves
because they are sworn to celibacy, but laymen must marry and dedicate
their sons to ascetic life.

These exemptions from pollution and the snares of the world so that
purity can be actively pursued are, after all, a major premise as well of
the Indian caste system. The Brahmin in order to be pure and to reach
upwards for greater purity requires the washerman, the barber, the farmer
and many other labourers to shield him, to provide for him, and to remove
his impurities. And, if we extend the argument, does not any aristocracy—
whether it be Roman patricians or the English gentlemen—gain its right
to creative `leisure', in the way Plato meant it, only because there are
slaves and servants to `work'?

If the villagers thus free the monks for higher pursuits, then their
labourings—even though polluting—are positively virtuous, too, and
merit is their reward.