Today, volunteering is a global phenomenon. Taiwan is famous not only for its fruit, its kind-hearted people, and its religions, but also for a world-class “export”: its volunteers. In truth, for over two thousand years, countless Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and great masters of the past have been serving society as volunteers. While a small minority focused solely on their own practice—whom the Buddha critiqued as “withered sprouts and stagnant seeds”—the vast majority can truly be called Bodhisattvas.

　In Taiwan, for instance, the many devotees in our temples who do good deeds for society are Bodhisattvas. Even Catholics, Christians, or anyone who acts with morality and compassion can be called a Bodhisattva. And what of the thousands who worship folk deities with sincere faith and a commitment to goodness? Are they not Bodhisattvas too?

　The first true volunteer was, in fact, Sakyamuni Buddha. No one gave him a salary or benefits; no one granted him an official rank or title. He traveled far and wide, bringing joy to people, educating them, and tirelessly sharing the Dharma to show humanity the path to liberation. Is he not the greatest volunteer in the world?

　Beyond the Buddha, all our Bodhisattvas—such as Avalokitesvara (Guan Yin) or Ksitigarbha—are they not volunteers among us? Avalokitesvara saves those in suffering and manifests in countless forms. Who pays her a salary or travel expenses? No one. Yet, she is ever-ready to be the “ship of compassion” for those lost in the sea of suffering. Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva not only vowed to save all beings but even descended into the depths of hell to help those in the greatest pain. Is he not a supreme volunteer?

　From the time of the Buddha to the present day, the spread of Buddhism has relied on monastics (Bhikshus and Bhikshunis) and lay devotees (Upasakas and Upasikas) who serve without pay. They serve their country, their society, and the public. Buddhism is, in essence, a volunteer organization where both monastics and the laity are volunteers for the human world.

　I find the dedication of our lay volunteers truly remarkable. Driven by faith, they come to the temple to sweep, cook, serve tea, and welcome guests. Some help with driving, others with reception, and many assist in spreading the Dharma—offering comfort to the grieving and performing chanting services that benefit both the living and the deceased.

　However, for the monastics, we must strive to be the “volunteers for the volunteers.” When devotees come to the temple to sweep but don’t know where the brooms are, we should bring them the brooms. When they want to make tea but can’t find the cups, we should provide the cups. We should care about how they arrived, whether they have enough for their journey, or if they have eaten before they leave. We must support them so that they find genuine joy in their service to the Buddha.

　Volunteers also deserve thoughtful management so that every person’s talent is put to good use. Among our volunteers are scholars, professors, entrepreneurs, distinguished ladies, social workers, young students, and even children. We should organize and arrange tasks according to their backgrounds and provide them with proper care. We must help our volunteers grow; we must be their volunteers.