Dana is the practice Western Buddhists most consistently underestimate and the one the canon emphasises most.

It is the first of the six perfections and the first of the ten Theravada paramis. It is the first topic in the Buddha’s graduated instruction to laypeople — generosity, then virtue, then the heavens, then the drawbacks of sensual pleasure, and only then the Four Noble Truths. It is what the entire monastic institution depends on. And it is, by an enormous margin, what most Buddhists across Asia have actually done as their principal practice.

Why it comes first #

Three reasons the tradition gives.

It works directly on grasping. Craving is the diagnosis, and giving is the immediate, physical, repeatable contradiction of it. You cannot think your way out of acquisitiveness; you can practise against it.

It is available to everyone. No skill, no instruction, no cushion, no free time. The canon is explicit that even a small gift given with a good heart is meritorious, and includes the case of giving away the water used to rinse a bowl.

It builds the conditions for everything else. A community that supports its teachers has teachers; a practitioner who is generous develops the mind that meditation requires.

There is also a blunter reason, stated in the texts: it is the practice that produces the results laypeople most want. Dana generates merit, and merit produces favourable circumstances now and a favourable rebirth later.

The merit economy #

This is the structure that has sustained Buddhism for two and a half millennia, and it is the least discussed feature of the tradition in Western presentations.

Monastics are prohibited from farming, trading, cooking, or handling money. They depend entirely on lay support for food, robes, shelter, and medicine.

Laypeople give, and in return receive teaching, ritual services, and — centrally — a “field of merit”: the opportunity to give to recipients whose purity makes the gift more fruitful.

The exchange is asymmetric and explicit. The monastic gives Dharma, which is described as the highest gift; the layperson gives material support. Neither is a payment.

The epigraphic record of Indian Buddhism is almost entirely this: thousands of donative inscriptions recording who paid for which railing pillar, coping stone, or cave, frequently with merit dedicated to deceased parents. Gregory Schopen’s work made it impossible to ignore how central this was, and how peripheral meditation appears in the same record.

The three kinds of giving #

A standard classification, in ascending order of value:

The giving of material things — food, robes, shelter, medicine, money, and the building of temples.

The giving of fearlessness (abhaya-dana) — protection, the removal of danger, the saving of life. Releasing captive animals is the traditional form; sheltering someone in danger is the general case.

The giving of Dharma — teaching. Held to be highest, because its benefit extends beyond this life. The Dhammapada says the gift of Dhamma surpasses all gifts.

A fourth, particularly emphasised in Mahayana, is the giving of one’s own body — dramatised in the Jataka stories of bodhisattvas feeding themselves to tigers, and treated by sensible commentators, Shantideva among them, as a practice for the far advanced rather than a recommendation.

What makes a gift good #

The tradition analyses this carefully, and the analysis is more interesting than the practice sounds.

The mind before, during, and after. A gift is fully meritorious when the giver is glad before giving, glad while giving, and glad afterwards. Regret afterwards is specifically named as diminishing it.

The absence of expectation. Giving in order to be seen, to be thanked, to create obligation, or to secure a specific outcome is lesser giving. The canon lists eight motives for giving, in ascending order, from giving out of embarrassment to giving “as an ornament of the mind.”

The recipient. A gift to a virtuous recipient is more fruitful, which is the reasoning behind supporting the Sangha specifically. But the Dakkhinavibhanga Sutta also says that a gift to an animal produces results, and the Velama Sutta ranks giving to an increasingly refined series of recipients — while concluding that developing loving-kindness for the time it takes to pull a cow’s udder is more fruitful than any of it, and that perceiving impermanence for the time of a finger-snap is more fruitful still.

That closing move is characteristic. The tradition praises giving extensively and then relativises it against practice — without withdrawing the praise.

The three spheres. At the highest level, in the Mahayana formulation, the gift is made without reifying giver, gift, or recipient. A gift given with the thought “I am generous” is generosity; it is not the perfection of it.

Merit transfer #

Merit can be dedicated to others — most commonly to deceased relatives, and in Mahayana practice to all sentient beings at the end of any wholesome act.

This fits awkwardly with strict karmic individualism, and the commentaries have worked on it. The usual explanation is that the deceased, if in a state able to rejoice at the offering, generates wholesome states of their own, and it is that which benefits them.

The awkwardness has not slowed the practice, which is universal. See Buddhist Funeral Rites.

How it works today #

In Asia #

Daily almsround in Theravada countries: monks walk in the early morning with bowls, laypeople place food in them. The exchange is silent and there is no thanks — the monk is not receiving a favour, and the layperson has received the opportunity.

The kathina ceremony after the rains retreat, at which robes and requisites are offered to a monastery, is the largest annual giving occasion in Theravada countries.

Building and endowment: temples, stupas, monastery halls, and ordination platforms are paid for by lay donors, whose names are frequently inscribed.

In the West #

This is where it becomes complicated, and it is worth being direct about it.

Teachers are frequently unpaid. In the insight and Theravada traditions particularly, teachers commonly receive no salary and depend on dana offered at the end of a retreat. Retreat fees typically cover room and board only; the teaching itself is given freely, and the envelope at the end is how the teacher lives.

This is a faithful transmission of the tradition and it produces real problems in a Western economy. Teachers can be financially precarious into old age. Retreatants who do not understand the arrangement do not give. The culture of not discussing money makes it difficult for teachers to raise the issue.

Several organisations have moved to salaried teachers or explicit suggested amounts. Others regard the dana model as doctrinally important and worth the difficulty.

The practical advice, if you are on a retreat or attending teaching: find out whether the teacher is paid. If not, give, and give as though you were paying for a comparable professional service rather than tipping.

Beyond the Buddhist context, dana is not restricted to religious giving. The practice is the practice regardless of recipient.

Starting #

The tradition’s advice is unglamorous and specific.

Give regularly rather than occasionally. Frequency does more than amount, because what is being trained is a habit of mind.

Give something you would rather keep. Giving what you do not want is not the practice.

Notice the resistance. The moment of reluctance before giving is the thing being worked on, and observing it is instructive.

Give without arranging to be thanked. Anonymous giving is traditionally praised for exactly this reason.

Dedicate the merit. A few seconds at the end, giving away the benefit. This prevents generosity from becoming a way of accumulating spiritual credit.

Do not give beyond your means. The canon is sensible about this: the Sigalovada Sutta recommends dividing income into portions for use, for business, and for savings, and the Dighajanu discourse warns against both extravagance and miserliness.

Common questions #

Is dana just donation? It includes donation and is broader — time, attention, help, teaching, and the giving of fearlessness all count. The training is in the mind of giving rather than the transfer of assets.

How much should I give? No amount is prescribed for laypeople. The traditional guidance is regular, within one’s means, and enough to be felt.

Is it wrong to feel good about giving? No — gladness before, during, and after is what the tradition says makes a gift complete. What is discouraged is giving in order to feel good, or in order to be seen to have given.

Why do monks not say thank you? Because the transaction is understood differently: the monastic provides the field of merit, and the layperson has received the opportunity. In practice many monastics do acknowledge gifts, and a blessing is often given.

Should I give to a teacher who is already well-off? A matter of judgement. The tradition’s emphasis on the recipient’s virtue rather than their need is genuine and can be misapplied. Giving to those in need is also dana and is also meritorious.

What if I can’t afford to give? The canon addresses this directly and lists gifts available to anyone: a smile, a kind word, help, attention, the sharing of merit. Poverty is not an exemption from the practice.

Sources & further reading #

Bhikkhu Bodhi (ed.), In the Buddha’s Words (Wisdom, 2005), ch. 4 — the canonical material on giving. Various, Dana: The Practice of Giving (BPS, 1990) — a collection of essays, freely available. Gregory Schopen, Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks (University of Hawai’i Press, 1997) — on what the donative record shows. Ellison Banks Findly, Dāna: Giving and Getting in Pāli Buddhism (Motilal Banarsidass, 2003) — the comprehensive study. Gil Fronsdal, essays on dana in the Western insight context — on the practical difficulties of the model.