The Bengali Tea Boy

Did you know that Buddhism has saints? It does. One in particular was Atisha, a monk and teacher who had renounced the magic of Tantra in favor of the Buddha’s teachings. He became so admired that he was invited to bring the teachings to Tibet.

Atisha had a tea boy who was sullen and disrespectful. Daily the teacher had to overcome his own pride and sense of self to show loving kindness to his tea boy. The tea boy was never grateful for this but continued in his bad tempered ways.

When Atisha finally accepted the Tibetan invitation, he heard that the people in that country were so cheerful and mild mannered that he feared he would have no one on whom to practice his compassion training. So he brought his tea boy to Tibet with him.

Is the lesson in this as obvious to you as it was to me?

In my last job, I had dealings with a contractor who constantly resisted the requirements in his contract. He made long and self-righteous claims as to why he should not have to comply. He invoked my (deceased) predecessor, wishing he were still in place. He went above my head to elected officials to court their approval and support. He was my Bengali tea boy.

Far from growing to despise this person, I actually came to love him. It was a miracle. His resistance, his whining simply made me value him all the more. I decided I would see the face of Christ in this person because I know it was there. I would treat him like a great sage, a highly valued colleague. I would listen to him with an open heart and I would say kind things about him afterward. My intention to love him became reality. 

I was not able to bend the rules for him as my predecessor had done, nor was I inclined to. He worked for an outstanding organization that did fine work and I praised it and him whenever I could. I was ruthless about the contract and fulsome in praise for all the good that they accomplished. I made friends with his co-workers and clients.

Did he grow to like me? I honestly doubt it. But that wasn't the point. I wasn't after getting him to like me. I was after getting myself to like him. And that did happen. Now that I am retired, I miss him most of all.

Everyone has a Bengali tea boy in her or his life. Everyone can learn to love and value that tea boy. Everyone can don the virtues of patience and kindness and direct all of that to the tea boy.

But, one last piece from this lesson, one closing, disturbing possibility…am I someone else’s Bengali tea boy?

 

If I am, Dear God, let that person find the grace that I found. Let her or him see the face of Christ in me.