Amitabha Buddha

The late afternoon sun had turned golden on the hedge of Malabar spinach out in the yard. Inside the house, a grandmother sat by the door, her back a little bent, her palms joined before her chest. She chanted softly, as even as breathing: Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật. Her small grandchild sat beside her and listened for a long while. At last the child shyly asked who A Di Đà was, whose name she called every evening.

The grandmother smiled, drew the child close, and began to tell the story.

A Di Đà is a Buddha, she said, the one known in English as Amitabha. His is no ordinary name. It means Infinite Light and Infinite Life. Infinite Light is a light so great that no one can measure or count it. Infinite Life is a life that goes on without end. Put simply, he is a Buddha of a light that never goes out, and of a life that never runs out.

Wide-eyed, the child asked when he had first come to be.

The Buddhist scriptures tell it this way, the grandmother said. It began long, long ago, so long ago that it cannot be counted in the years of a human life. In that time there lived a man of royal rank, with every honor and comfort. Yet he left his high throne to become a monk, and he took the name Dharmakara. In Vietnamese he is called Tỳ Kheo Pháp Tạng. She wanted the child to remember that this is a story from the scriptures, one Vietnamese people have believed and retold for generations.

As Dharmakara practiced, one longing weighed on his heart. He wanted every suffering living being to have a place of peace and joy. So he stood before a Buddha of that age, joined his palms, and made an immense promise.

That promise held forty-eight vows. He vowed to save the living beings of all ten directions, leaving no one behind. Then he swore an oath that made heaven and earth fall still to listen. If even one of those vows remained unfulfilled, he would refuse to become a Buddha.

The grandmother asked the child to think about that. Most people wish for things for themselves. Dharmakara instead took every one of those vows upon his shoulders, only to open a road for others. He bound himself to it. Until all forty-eight vows were fulfilled, he would not become a Buddha.

Among the forty-eight vows, one feels closest to Vietnamese people. It is the eighteenth. According to the scriptures, he vowed that anyone in the ten directions who sincerely believed and longed to come to his realm would be welcomed there. They had only to call his name, even as few as ten times. A sincere heart and a single chant were all it took.

And that, the grandmother said, was the very line she called out every evening. Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật. The words mean homage to Amitabha Buddha. Grown-ups chant it, old people chant it, and even little children can chant along. The line is short and easy to remember, yet it holds a whole great vow.

In time, Dharmakara fulfilled all forty-eight vows. He became a Buddha, and his name was Amitabha. Just as he had promised, he created a realm to welcome living beings. That realm is called Tây Phương Cực Lạc, the Land of Utmost Bliss in the West.

The child leaned closer and asked what that land looked like.

The grandmother paused, as if gazing toward a place very far away. In the scriptures, she said, it is a realm of light. The ground gleams with gold. There are pools of clear water, their surfaces covered with lotuses of every color, and each bloom gives off a light of its own. Around the pools stand rows of trees made of jewels. Wind passes through the leaves and birds sing on the branches, and every sound seems to remind people of what is good.

But she wanted the child to hold on to one thing. That land is not beautiful in order to show off gold and jade. What is most precious there is that suffering is gone. There is no more old age to wear people down, no illness to hurt them, no death to frighten them. To arrive there is to arrive at a place of ease within the heart. The Land of Utmost Bliss is a realm of peace for the mind, not a place of riches.

And Amitabha does not stand alone in that land. Two great bodhisattvas stand beside him. A bodhisattva, in Buddhism, is one who seeks awakening, someone on the path to becoming a buddha. On one side is Quan Âm, the bodhisattva of compassion, whom many Vietnamese call Mother Quan Âm. On the other side is the Bodhisattva Đại Thế Chí. The Vietnamese call the three together Tây Phương Tam Thánh, the Three Holy Ones of the West. Three compassionate hearts bend down together and open their arms to all who seek their way there.

The story sounds far away, the grandmother pointed out, and yet it is all around them. Chanting the Buddha's name is one of the longest-standing and most familiar practices of Vietnamese Buddhists. It suits young and old, high and humble alike. After all, anyone can chant a single Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật.

That is why, in Vietnam, many pagodas have an altar to Amitabha Buddha. Morning and evening, through thin incense smoke, the sound of chanting rises once more. Sometimes a whole pagoda hall chants together. Sometimes it is only one old woman sitting on the porch of her house, passing her prayer beads through her fingers. She softly calls his name, as if calling to a loved one who waits somewhere up ahead.

By now the sky had gone completely dark. The child rested against the grandmother's shoulder, eyes half closed. Beyond the yard, a distant pagoda bell sounded faintly on the wind. The grandmother sat on, her palms still joined before her chest, and chanted softly once more, as even as breathing: Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật. Every evening, that chant rings out somewhere across the country, like a small light kindled in the dusk, warm and never going out.