The Five Sīlas, the Community Pure Land, and a Good Death: The Scholar-Monk Shi Huimin’s Contribution to the Development of Buddhist Palliative Care in Contemporary Taiwan

Abstract

In the history as well as historiography of Chinese Buddhism, the tradition has often been closely associated with death-related cultural practices and ideas, an association that has frequently carried negative connotations. Early twentieth-century reformers such as Taixu famously criticized Buddhism as a religion of ghosts and funerals and sought to redirect Mahāyāna Buddhism toward engagement with an urban, modernizing society. Contemporary Taiwanese Buddhists have realized many aspects of this socially engaged vision. Yet concern with death remains deeply embedded in Buddhist life. Far from standing in contradiction to social engagement, this concern has become one of its central expressions, most visibly in the emergence of modern Buddhist palliative care. Focusing on the writings of the scholar-monk Shi Huimin, this article examines the development of Buddhist palliative care in Taiwan in response to a secular, multireligious, and rapidly aging society, with primary attention to Huimin’s conceptual work. Rather than treating death in isolation, Huimin situates dying within a broader ethical horizon that links good death to good aging, good living, and community formation. Through his reinterpretation of the Five Śīlas and his notion of a Community Pure Land, he extends prevailing concerns with dying well toward a more comprehensive reflection on everyday moral cultivation, healthy lifestyles, and communal responsibility. In this sense, the study reads Buddhist palliative care as a site that “provincializes” dominant Euro-American frameworks of spiritual and palliative care, highlighting their particular historical and Christian-inflected origins while tracing how they are reconfigured and made productive in a multireligious, secular context. By foregrounding Huimin’s conceptual contributions, this study highlights how palliative and spiritual care are localized and reworked within Taiwanese Buddhism, connecting end-of-life care to broader questions of life, aging, and community well-being.

1. Introduction

In the history and historiography of Chinese Buddhism, the tradition has often been closely associated with death-related cultural practices and ideas, an association that has frequently carried negative connotations.1 This perception was so widespread that early twentieth-century reformers such as the influential scholar-monk Shi Taixu (釋太虛, 1890–1947) criticized Buddhism for being overly preoccupied with death and the afterlife.2 Taixu regarded this orientation as a serious obstacle to the modernization of Mahāyāna Buddhism in China and other Sinophone societies. As part of his ambitious reform agenda, articulated most prominently in his call to establish a Pure Land in the human realm, he sought to redirect Buddhist emphasis away from funerary rituals and toward active engagement with the needs of an urban, modernizing society (Jones 2021).

Today, on the other side of the Taiwan Strait, roughly a century after Taixu published his influential essay ‘On the Establishment of a Pure Land in the Human Realm,’ engagement in secular society has become a defining feature of the tradition (Taixu 1956). In Taiwan, Buddhist organizations and temples of diverse sizes and traditions are deeply involved in society, including areas such as healthcare, education, social welfare, and cultural production. These activities have contributed significantly to reshaping the public image of Buddhism as a modern religion and a force for social good. In this sense, at least in the context of Taiwan, one may argue that Taixu’s vision has been realized to a considerable degree.

At the same time, however, a concern with death has remained deeply embedded in the fabric of Taiwanese Buddhist life. Rather than standing in opposition to the reform project of Buddhist modernization, it has now become part of it. As the following discussion of the writings of the scholar-monk Shi Huimin (釋惠敏, 1954–present) will show, the ideal of creating a Pure Land in this world continues to function as a productive conceptual framework.3 In Huimin’s case, however, this ideal is scaled down and reformulated as the notion of a community Pure Land (社區淨土), redirected toward not only ethics but also daily routines, thereby making it more attainable in everyday life.

This paper examines the writings of Shi Huimin from a conceptual perspective, focusing on how he rethinks key Buddhist notions inherited from both classical traditions and modernist reform discourses in light of contemporary conditions in Taiwan and beyond.4 It explores how Huimin recenters death, dying, and, importantly, aging within the framework of Buddhist social engagement under the conditions of a secular, multireligious, and democratic society. While Taixu, writing in the context of Republican-era China, associated death-related practices with commercialization and therefore regarded them as symptoms of Buddhist decline and obstacles to the modernization he sought to promote, Huimin articulates a markedly different position. In the Taiwanese context, he situates Buddhist concern with death not in opposition to modern social life, but as an integral dimension of how Buddhists engage with it. By extending reflections on death and dying into a broader consideration of what constitutes not only a good death but also a good life, Huimin’s approach speaks directly to the challenges posed by demographic change and population aging that characterize many societies today.

This paper forms part of a larger, multi-sited research project examining the contemporary landscape of Buddhist death care in Taiwan, with attention to institutional innovations, social practices, conceptual reflections, and cultural expressions. At the center of this broader inquiry is the question of how Buddhists address death and dying within a secular, multireligious, and aging social context. As the first publication emerging from this project, the present study focuses on the conceptual contributions of a key figure in this field, the scholar-monk Shi Huimin, thereby establishing an analytical foundation for subsequent, more ethnographically oriented case studies.5

After a brief introduction to his life and intellectual background, this paper examines Shi Huimin’s contributions to the development of Buddhist end-of-life care education, with particular attention to his conceptual reflections on Buddhist palliative care in Taiwan. While his involvement in early initiatives related to palliative care training and institutional localization forms an important background, the primary focus lies on his conceptual work. Central to Huimin’s thought is his effort to rethink death and dying within a broader ethical and social horizon, extending prevailing palliative care concerns with dying well toward a more comprehensive reflection on aging well and living well in an aging society. This ethical horizon is articulated most clearly through his reinterpretation of Buddhist moral discipline, particularly the Five Śīlas, which are closely linked to his notion of a Community Pure Land. In this way, Huimin extends notions of a “good death” in palliative care discourse to a Buddhist-inflected emphasis on the cultivation of a good life.

By examining Huimin’s role, this paper also illustrates how a discourse historically shaped within Christian contexts, such as palliative and spiritual care, can be fruitfully appropriated and reworked in an East Asian, non-Christian setting. Here, Buddhism does not function merely as an alternative particularity, offering Buddhist palliative care for a Buddhist population in Taiwan. Rather, Huimin’s reflections provide resources for critically recalibrating key assumptions of spiritual and palliative care discourse in light of multireligious and secular social contexts. This approach does not seek to establish a new, Buddhist-centered universalism. Instead, it highlights how claims to universality in palliative care emerge through processes of situated rearticulation, grounded in specific social and cultural contexts, while remaining necessarily fragmented and open-ended, never fully resolving into a singular or totalizing framework.

2. From Seeland Monastery to Dharma Drum Mountain and Back

Born as Guo Minfang (郭敏芳) in Tainan in 1954, Venerable Huimin is a prominent figure in contemporary Taiwanese Buddhism. The monastic and public intellectual, who in 2022 retired from his position as president of Dharma Drum Institute of Liberal Arts, is widely recognized for his contributions to Buddhist education as well as Buddhist thought and practice. Guo Minfang studied pharmacy at Taipei Medical College (Taipei yixueyuan yaoxuexi 台北醫學院藥學系), where he also first came into closer contact with Buddhism.6 He joined the Buddhist student association at the university and, in 1972, formally took refuge in the Three Jewels, the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. In 1977, while preparing for his exams, he stayed at Seeland Monastery (Xilian Jingyuan 西蓮淨苑, literally “Pure Garden of the Western Lotus”) in the Sanxia (三峽) district, at the southwestern edge of what is today New Taipei City. This experience left a lasting impression on him and later became the foundation for his decision to enter monastic life. Seeland Monastery had been established in the early 1970s by Venerable Zhiyu (知諭, 1924–2000), and it would become a place of major significance for Huimin. Not only was it where he first felt called to the monastic path, it was also where he received the Five Precepts (wu jie 五戒) in 1978 from Venerable Zhiyu, the same year he graduated from Taipei Medical College. He would go on to receive monastic ordination there under Zhiyu in 1979, on the day that Mahāyāna Buddhists in Sinophone societies celebrate the awakening of the bodhisattva Guanyin (Guanyin pusa 觀音菩薩), the 19th day of the sixth lunar month. Today, many decades later and after an illustrious career, Huimin himself serves as abbot of Seeland Monastery, following the passing of his teacher.

In 1982, Huimin resumed his formal academic education by enrolling at the Institute of Buddhist Studies of the Chinese Culture Institute (Zhonghua xueshuyuan Foxue yanjiusuo 中華學術院佛學研究所). The Chinese Culture Institute was founded in the late 1970s by Dr. Zhang Qiyun (張其昀), and among its faculty was the influential scholar-monk Venerable Sheng Yen (Shengyan 聖嚴), who would become globally known for founding Dharma Drum Mountain (Ch: Fagu shan 法鼓山). Although the institute only received official recognition from Taiwan’s Ministry of Education in 1987, it was already an important center for Buddhist studies in Taiwan during the 1980s. After Venerable Zhiyu, Sheng Yen became another key influence in Huimin’s life. Huimin would go on to become the first of Sheng Yen’s Dharma heirs.

Even before formally entering academic life, Huimin had already studied several foundational Buddhist texts, including the Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment (Yuanjue jing 圓覺經), the Śrīmālādevī Siṃhanāda Sūtra (Shengman jing 勝鬘經), the Diamond Sutra (Jingang jing 金剛經), and the Awakening of Faith in the Mahāyāna (Dasheng qixin lun 大乘起信論). He also explored the Vinaya studies of the modern monk Venerable Hongyi (Hongyi dashi 弘一大師) and read widely from the writings of two of the most influential Buddhist reformers of the twentieth century: Venerable Taixu (Taixu dashi 太虛大師) and Venerable Yinshun (Yinshun daoshi 印順導師).

During his time at the Chinese Culture Institute, Huimin began his formal studies in canonical Buddhist languages, such as Sanskrit, Pāli, and Tibetan, as well as modern Japanese and English. He developed a particular interest in the Āgamas (Ahan jing 阿含經), in Chan Studies (Chan xue 禪學), as well as in Yogācāra (Yujia 瑜伽), the latter of which would become one of the central foci in his later academic work.

After completing his studies in Taiwan, Huimin took up a scholarship opportunity to pursue graduate education in Japan at the University of Tokyo (Tōkyō daigaku 東京大學), where he earned his MA in Indian Philosophy. His master’s thesis focused on the theory of lineage and the accumulation of spiritual requisites in the Śrāvakabhūmi (Shengwen di zhi zhongxing lun yu ziliang lun 聲聞地之種姓論與資糧論). He continued at the University of Tokyo for his doctoral studies and received his Doctorate in Literature in 1992. His dissertation was titled A Study of the Object of Cognition in the Śrāvakabhūmi (Shengwen di zhong suoyuan zhi yanjiu 聲聞地中所緣之研究). Huimin’s educational journey illustrates his engagement with both science and Buddhist traditions, traditional as well as modernist.

After receiving his doctorate, Huimin returned to Taiwan, where he accepted a position as associate professor at the National Institute of the Arts (Guoli Yishu Xueyuan 國立藝術學院) and as associate researcher at the Institute of Buddhist Studies. In the subsequent decades, he established an illustrious career, assuming a range of significant leadership positions, too numerous to enumerate in full here. To mention but a few, he became Dean of Student Affairs at the National Institute of the Arts (Guoli Yishu Xueyuan xuewuzhang 國立藝術學院學務長), Vice Director of the Institute of Buddhist Studies (Zhonghua Foxue Yanjiusuo fu suozhang 中華佛學研究所副所長), and Vice Abbot of Sealand Monastery (Xilian Jingyuan fu zhuchi 西蓮淨苑副住持). In 1994, he took on the role of Vice Director at the Chung-Hwa Institute of Buddhist Studies (CHIBS), affiliated with Dharma Drum Mountain. Since 1998, he has served as Director of the Chinese Buddhist Electronic Text Association (CBETA), a pioneering project in digital Buddhist studies. That same year, he was appointed professor at Taipei National University of the Arts (TNUA). From 2007 until his retirement in 2023, Huimin served as President of Dharma Drum Buddhist College (DDBC), an institution central to the academic vision of the late Master Sheng Yen, founder of Dharma Drum Mountain. After retirement, he remains active. Among his many engagements, he continues to serve as Abbot of Seeland Monastery and as a board member of one of Taiwan’s first Buddhist associations for palliative care, the Taiwan Association for Clinical Buddhist Studies (Taiwan linquang foxue yajiuxiehui 台灣臨床佛學研究協會) (Taiwan Association of Clinical Buddhist Studies n.d.).

3. Huimin and the Development of Buddhist Palliative Care in Taiwan

During the 1990s, Huimin became increasingly involved in initiatives related to the development of Buddhist palliative care in Taiwan. A key factor shaping this engagement was his connection with Professor Chen Qingyu (陳慶餘) of National Taiwan University Hospital (Taida Yiyuan 台大醫院), a leading figure in the emerging Buddhist hospice movement. Chen, a medical doctor, founded the Lotus Foundation (Lianhua Jijinhui 蓮花基金會 (Lianhua Foundation n.d.)), the first organization in Taiwan dedicated to localizing palliative care within the Taiwanese cultural and social context (Lotus Foundation n.d.). The foundation played a pioneering role in examining how Buddhist perspectives and practices could inform and enrich approaches to end-of-life care in order to adapt it to Taiwanese society.

Throughout the 1990s, the Lotus Foundation hosted a series of research-oriented events aimed at advancing the integration of palliative care with local cultural and religious resources, bringing together medical professionals and Buddhist monastics for dialogue and collaboration. Huimin was among the invited participants, a role that marked the beginning of his sustained engagement with this field. His involvement culminated in his first public lecture on the subject in 1997, followed by the start of his publications on Buddhist approaches to hospice and palliative care from 1998 onward (Hou and Zhuo 2015, pp. 371–72, 384–88).

From that period onward, Huimin began presenting and publishing regularly on issues related to palliative care, establishing himself as one of the central voices in the field. The topic remains deeply significant to him, and he continues to be regarded as a key figure in shaping the development of Buddhist palliative care in Taiwan. His contributions extend beyond practical training and educational initiatives to include his role as a public intellectual, offering theoretical and conceptual reflections that have influenced both academic discourse and clinical practice.7

Huimin’s aim is to make Christian-derived discourses of spiritual and palliative care productive for the Taiwanese context. He therefore brings them into dialogue with Buddhist scriptures and thought, yet avoids reshaping palliative care into an exclusively Buddhist framework. Instead, he rethinks these discourses for Taiwanese society, where Buddhism is a significant but not exclusive religious tradition.

4. Points of Inspiration: Japan and Finland

Huimin’s explorations are grounded in a global perspective, which shapes his approach to palliative care. Two countries have served as particularly significant points of comparison, and sources of inspiration, for Huimin’s efforts to integrate Buddhist perspectives into palliative care: Japan and Finland.

Huimin’s connection with Japan was shaped by his period of study there, an experience that heightened his awareness of both the depth of Buddhist scholarship in the Japanese academic context and the distinctive dynamics governing the presence of religious actors in secular domains in the two countries. Huimin notes that the history of Buddhist involvement in palliative care is considerably longer in Japan than in Taiwan, tracing back to an initiative by Japanese politician, media proprietor, and Buddhist Matsutaro Shoriki (Shoriki Matsutaro, 正力松太郎) (1885–1969). Beginning in the early 2000s, professional exchange between Japanese and Taiwanese palliative care practitioners commenced, with the goal to foster mutual learning and collaboration. A significant event, mentioned by Huimin, occurred in 2009, when a delegation of Japanese scholars visited Taiwan’s Buddhist Clinical Chaplaincy Program. Their subsequent report, published in 2012, emphasized the vibrancy of Taiwan’s Buddhist social work and contrasted it with the more limited public role of Buddhist clergy in Japan, where legal frameworks restrict their access to secular institutions such as hospitals. The report provided a detailed account of Taiwan’s hospice model, covering aspects such as training protocols, ethical frameworks, and ritual practices for the dying (Hou and Zhuo 2015, pp. 376–78).

This report underscores a defining feature of Taiwanese Buddhism: its pronounced orientation toward social engagement. Buddhist organizations in Taiwan engage in society in multiple ways, they operate schools and universities, hospitals, and medical centers. They play an active role in disaster relief and philanthropy, as well as environmental protection through recycling programs and ecological initiatives. But their contributions also extend further into cultural production and numerous other public-facing activities.8 Within this broader landscape of socially embedded religious practice, the development of Buddhist approaches to palliative care emerges as a natural and coherent extension of Taiwanese Buddhist actors’ long-standing commitment to societal well-being.

Another formative moment for him was a 2008 Finnish public television documentary broadcast in Taiwan, which portrayed everyday life among older adults and highlighted the phenomenon of spending only the final two weeks of life bedridden. Huimin draws on this example to emphasize the role of active aging, regular exercise, and public investment in senior health as key factors shaping end-of-life quality. In his discussion, Finland thus functions primarily as a model of lifestyle-oriented elder care and health policy, informing his reflections on hospice care and aging in Taiwan, rather than as a broader cultural contrast regarding attitudes toward death. This experience encouraged him to reformulate the Buddhist śīlas, as discussed below, in order to address the needs of an aging society (Hou and Zhuo 2015, p. 371).

The different approach to death and dying in Finland, specifically the fact that, unlike in Taiwan, where the elderly are often encouraged to rest, many Finnish older adults remain active until the final two weeks of life, left a profound and lasting impression on Huimin, shaping his reflections on how to better navigate aging, dying and death within the context of demographic change in Taiwan. Reflecting on the documentary, Huimin observes that while both Finland and Taiwan face the challenges of rapid population aging, their approaches to elder care diverge significantly. In Jyväskylä, a university town in central Finland with a population of about 80,000, approximately 2% of the municipal budget, equivalent to around 250 million New Taiwan dollars, is allocated annually to promoting health and physical activity among seniors. This investment supports a robust infrastructure that includes 13 exercise coaches, 40 physical therapists, and 70 part-time sports students who organize public exercise programs for the elderly. Seniors gather in welcoming gym environments to engage in activities such as tumbling, jumping, and even hanging upside down on rings, making physical fitness an integral part of daily life. As Huimin notes, this model not only enhances the quality of life for older adults but also reduces long-term healthcare costs, yielding benefits for both individuals and society. Underpinning Finland’s approach is a vision of aging that emphasizes maintaining an active and healthy lifestyle until the final stage of life, ideally remaining mobile and independent until the last two weeks before death (Ibid, pp. 389–90).

This Finnish vision offers an important reference point for Huimin’s reflections on aging and dying, not only at the individual level but also within a broader societal framework. In his writings, Huimin not only reflects on how to localize and thus “Buddhicize” palliative care concepts to the Taiwanese context but also engages more deeply with the normative question of what constitutes a good death. This includes considering how, historical as well as modernist, Buddhist principles, through cultivating a mindful lifestyle and developing skillful habits, can inform bigger public health measures to aging in a society like Taiwan, where demographic shifts are intensifying concerns about elder care and end-of-life issues.

Huimin’s global outlook allows him not only to examine dominant Western contexts, such as the U.S. or the UK, the latter considered the birthplaces of modern palliative care, but also to bring into conversation with Buddhism resources from countries such as Japan and Finland, thereby making different cultures and genealogies of aging and care for the dying productive for his project. Central to Huimin’s writings is his notion of a ‘community Pure Land,’ a vision that scales down Taixu’s influential concept of a ‘Pure Land of the Human Realm’ to a more attainable level. His considerations outline clear and practical steps for implementing a socially embedded Buddhist practice within one’s local community and daily life, one that emphasizes mutual support, ethical living, and the creation of environments conducive to both spiritual and physical well-being.

5. Localization of Terms

Huimin traces contemporary hospice and spiritual care to Christian Europe and notes that the concept of “spiritual care” emerges from a Christian model of whole-person care articulated in terms of body, mind, and spirit (身、心、靈). In his account, this framework presupposes a notion of spirituality distinct from bodily and mental processes. From a Buddhist perspective, however, such a separation diverges from teachings on non-self and dependent origination, which understand experience as neither reducible to body and mind nor grounded in an independent spiritual essence. This conceptual difference highlights the need for alternative linguistic and theoretical frameworks if spiritual and palliative care are to resonate meaningfully within Buddhist and other non-Christian contexts (Ibid, pp. 378–79).

More generally, this challenge is reflected in the difficulty of translating professional titles such as “spiritual care” and “chaplain” into languages like Chinese or Japanese, where equivalent terms are often lacking or carry different connotations.9

Huimin notes that in Japan, for example, the term “hospice” is sometimes replaced by Vihara, a Buddhist term traditionally referring to a monastic residence. This substitution reflects efforts to localize end-of-life care within a Buddhist cultural framework, emphasizing continuity with established religious concepts rather than directly importing Western terminology (Ibid, p. 374). In a similar spirit of conceptual adaptation, Huimin proposes changes in language to better situate spiritual care in the Taiwanese context. He suggests “care of awareness” (覺性照顧) as an alternative to “spiritual care,” arguing that the latter presupposes a spirituality separate from body and mind. By contrast, 覺性照顧 is grounded in Buddhist teachings on non-self and dependent origination and centers on cultivating awareness of body, feeling, mind, and phenomena (sinianzhu 四念住) in caregiving contexts. Through this linguistic shift, care practices become more conceptually coherent and culturally resonant within Buddhist and East Asian frameworks (Ibid, p. 375).

From a Buddhist perspective, Huimin explains, attachment, understood as craving and grasping, is the root cause of rebirth, while letting go through wisdom leads to liberation from the cycle of birth and death. The cessation of suffering is realized through living fully in the present moment, free from clinging to the past or chasing after the future. Of central importance here is the Mahāyāna Buddhist concept of no-self (wu wo 無我), which holds that all phenomena are impermanent and lack independent existence; rather, life is a continuous multilinear flow of causes and conditions, and suffering arises from attachment to the illusion of a fixed, permanent self. To aid practitioners in realizing this, Buddhist teachings employ frameworks such as the Five Aggregates (wu yun 五蘊), Twelve Sense Bases (shier chu 十二處), Eighteen Compositional Elements of Cognition (shiba jie 十八界), and Six Elements (liu jie 六界), all of which illustrate the impermanent and interdependent nature of existence and help loosen attachment to selfhood. In this way, Buddhism regards death not only as a loss but also as a profound offering and moment of deep learning, where through insight and wisdom one can let go of clinging and attain peace at life’s end (Ibid, pp. 378–80).

6. Buddhist Cultivation Practices in the Context of Palliative Care

In addition to his efforts to adapt the conceptional framework, Huimin reflects extensively on how to mobilize Buddhist cultivation practices for the development of Taiwanese palliative care, a theme that recurs throughout his writings with varying emphases, ranging from ethics to wisdom to meditation and contemplative practices. Within East Asian Mahāyāna Buddhism there is a strong historical and doctrinal link between Amitabha-related practices and death and dying. It is therefore no surprise that in contemporary Taiwan, reciting the name of Amitabha Buddha (nianfo, 念佛) is the most common Buddhist practice in palliative care settings, especially when the dying person themself identifies as Buddhist. However, Huimin stresses that chanting the Buddha’s name is not the only Buddhist practice potentially beneficial at the end of life. Chan practice, for example, offers alternative tools. Among these, Huimin highlights the huatou (話頭) method as one potential alternative. To do so, he raises the example of the famous modern monastic Hsu Yun (Xuyun 虛雲 1840–1959), whose writings Huimin studied extensively in his youth.

Huimin presents Hsu Yun’s life as follows: Hsu Yun received full monastic ordination life at the age of 20. In his early years as a Buddhist monk, he engaged in different ascetic practices yet struggled to make progress on the spiritual path. When he was 31, his Master Rongjing (Rongjing 融鏡; birth and death dates unknown) criticized him for misguided practices and advised him to focus on training the mind rather than merely the body. Rongjing taught him the huatou meditation method centered on the question, “Who is dragging this corpse?” Xuyun accepted this guidance and went on to become the renowned monk he is known as today (Ibid, p. 382).

Huimin presents several key learnings that arise from Hsu Yun’s experience, and that are relevant for Buddhist approaches to aging, dying, and end-of-life care. A balanced practice requires the cultivation of ethical conduct (precepts), concentration (meditation), and wisdom (learning) together. Initially, Hsu Yun focused too much on asceticism and meditation but neglected precepts and wisdom. Master Rongjing taught him to live a balanced life, to study the precepts, and to reflect on “Who is dragging this corpse?” through huatou meditation to cultivate wisdom.

Huimin argues that the investigation of the huatou “Who is dragging this corpse?” represents a Chan synthesis of several classical Buddhist methods. It encourages mindfulness of death through sustained reflection on impermanence and the inevitability of dying, thereby weakening attachment and cultivating diligence. It also incorporates contemplation of impurity, observing the decaying body in order to loosen identification with physical form. In addition, it entails no-self analysis by examining the five aggregates—form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness—revealing the absence of any unchanging self. Taken together, these elements function as a powerful means of dismantling self-grasping, which Huimin presents as the central transformative aim of this practice (Ibid, pp. 382–84).

7. Three Critical Junctures of Life and Death (Shengsi San Guan 生死三關)

Another important topic that frequently appears in his writings is his reflection on what can be translated as the three junctures of life and death.10 His intention is to interlace Western medical and Buddhist discourses with other local traditions, including Confucianism, and popular understandings of dying. The three junctures are: The critical juncture of illness-related causes and conditions of good and evil (bing yuan shan e guan 病緣善惡關), the critical juncture between waking and sleeping and right mindfulness (xing shui zheng nian guan 醒睡正念關), and the critical juncture between life, death, and nirvāṇa (sheng si nie pan guan 生死涅槃關).

The “critical juncture of illness-related causes and conditions of good and evil” refers to assumptions that illness, suffering and death are the result of bad karma. Huimin writes that in 2008, Taiwan’s top ten causes of death included mostly illnesses, with the top three being cancer, heart disease, and stroke. The connection between illness and karmic causes often leads to confusion, as people often wonder why good individuals fall ill. However, Huimin states that even figures as virtuous as Confucius’ student Bo Niu (伯牛), experienced serious illness. He thereby highlights that suffering is not necessarily a result of wrongdoing. Huimin notes that many attribute illness to bad karma, but this may reinforce stigma or fear, and the perception that illness is a punishment. Huimin argues that Buddhism encourages a more balanced perspective: to view illness through the lens of causality (karma and conditions), not as “evil” but as a natural process. Even awakened beings like the Buddha and his disciples faced physical pain and injury. The Buddha experienced back pain, headaches, and ultimately passed away from food poisoning and some of his disciples were killed by external forces. Practicing Buddhist teachings (ethics, meditation, wisdom) may promote better health, but they do not make one immune to sickness or sudden death. Huimin emphasizes that the key to cultivating mental resilience: even if the body suffers, the mind can remain free from suffering.

The “critical juncture between waking and sleeping and right mindfulness” deals with mindfulness at the time of death. It is a common belief among Buddhists in Taiwan that staying awake at the time of death signifies dwelling in the state of right mindfulness (zhengnian 正念), while being unconscious or asleep represents a lack of mindfulness. However, Huimin counters that Buddhist teachings clarify that in a clear mental state (awake), the mind can be wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral. In an unclear mental state (unconscious or asleep), the mind is neutral (neither good nor bad) yet can still be influenced by previously cultivated wholesome habits. He raises the example of Mahānāma elder, one of the Buddha’s first five disciples (Mohe nanzhangzhe 摩訶男長者). In the Mahānāma Sutras of the Saṃyutta Nikāya (SN 55.21–22), Mahānāma expresses concern to the Buddha that while moving about the busy streets of Kapilavatthu, his mindfulness of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Saṅgha might become confused, and that if he were to die suddenly in such a state, he might be reborn in a lower realm. The Buddha reassures him that because his mind has long been nurtured in faith (saddhā), virtue (sīla), learning (suta), generosity (cāga), and wisdom (paññā), a bad rebirth is not to be feared. In the following discourse (SN 55.22), the Buddha adds a simile: just as a tree that leans to the east will fall in that direction when cut down, so too a person who has cultivated wholesome qualities will tend toward a good destiny, even if they lose conscious mindfulness at the moment of death (Bodhi 2000; Harvey 2013).

Huimin thus ascertains that being awake or asleep at the time of death does not solely determine the Buddhist quality of one’s dying process. He similarly argues that the use of morphine in terminal care may cause drowsiness but that does not represent loss of right mindfulness or even spiritual failure; or, responding to another widespread assumption, Huimin states fears that organ donation might cause loss of mindfulness and lead to bad rebirth are likewise unfounded. He concludes that the cultivation of wholesome habits during life is what truly matters.

The third one, the “critical juncture between life, death, and nirvāṇa,” asks: “Who am I? Where do I come from? Where do I go to?” (wo shi shei? wo cong he lai? wo jiang he qu? 我是誰？我從何來？我將何去?). Huimin states that life has evolved through many stages: from the origin of life, through the eras of bacteria, blue-green algae, and invertebrates, ferns, fish, and amphibians, gymnosperms and reptiles, angiosperms and mammals, to the era of humans. All life is impermanent; every species exists through a process of continuous change and evolution, like bubbles in the vast ocean of life, emerging from and returning to the ocean. Huimin explains that life can be understood as the central link in the irreversible cycles of matter within the biosphere’s ecosystems; each generation depends on the chemical substances released by the previous one. Life is not independent or separate, reflecting the Buddhist teaching of “no-self”. Individual lives exist interdependently in the ecosystem, like waves in the ocean. He argues that since there is no permanent self, the notions of birth and death dissolve, allowing us to realize the state of Nirvana, which transcends birth and death. Therefore, Huimin argues that the Buddhist teachings encourage us not to regret the past nor anxiously seek the future but properly attend to each moment without attachment because clinging to a permanent self is illusory. Huimin further states that each of the five aggregates (se shou xiang xing shi 色受想行識) that make up life are themselves Nirvana, characterized as neither arising nor ceasing, neither pure nor impure, neither increasing nor decreasing. Huimin refers to the Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra expounding the famous message at the heart of the Heart Sutra—“form is emptiness, emptiness is form” (se ji shi kong kong ji shi se 色即是空 空即是色)—which teaches that Nirvana and the world are not separate. He concludes that regular contemplation of the three critical junctures of life and death cultivates good habits and prevents panic and confusion at the moment of death (Hou and Zhuo 2015, pp. 384–88).

8. The Relationship Between a Healthy Lifestyle and a Good Death

Huimin begins by emphasizing that dying follows aging and is simply part of life. He doesn’t look at death in isolation but stresses its whole context, the individual’s life, their lifestyle and habits, and also the broader societal environment. His inspiration here comes from Finland again. Huimin provides his own life as an example. He shares that after having joined the “half-century-old” group years ago he started showing signs of metabolic syndrome, abnormal blood lipids caused by a lack of exercise. This condition raises the risk of cardiovascular, cerebrovascular, and kidney diseases, which can worsen one’s health and result in one becoming a burden to others, clearly an undesirable way to age for Huimin. Determined to change, he committed to following an “exercise śīla” (jie 戒), the Fitness 333 plan: exercising at least 3 times a week, 30 min each time, doing aerobic exercises to raise the heart rate to 130 bpm. His goal is to stay active until just two weeks before death, as inspired by the Finnish documentary mentioned beforehand, hopefully even being able to help others up until the day before passing (Ibid, pp. 388–89).

Looking at Taiwan, Huimin provides the following numbers: in 1993, the elderly population of the country (65+) was 7.1%, just reaching the UN WHO definition of an aging society. By 2006, it had risen to 10.4%. Projections show that by 2029, people over 65 will make up one-fourth of Taiwan’s total population. The old-age dependency ratio (65+ compared to working-age 15–64) was 7.5:1 in 2005, projected to be 3.3:1 in 2015, and possibly 1.5:1 by 2051. Huimin contends that this increasing burden of elderly support highlights urgent public policy needs, comprehensive programs must be developed to help older adults adapt physically, mentally, and emotionally, while also addressing issues of food, clothing, housing, transportation, education, and recreation.

Huimin notes that experts point to four main factors affecting human health: genetics, environment, healthcare systems, and lifestyle. Adult-onset diseases usually start around age 40, often caused by lifestyle-related factors. However, he observes that Taiwan’s health insurance system spends most of its budget on treatment rather than prevention. Huimin again raises the example of Finland. Both Finland and Taiwan face rapid population aging, but their elder care policies differ greatly. In Jyväskylä, a university town in central Finland with 80,000 residents, about 2% of the municipal budget (roughly 250 million NT dollars) is spent annually promoting exercise and health. This budget hires 13 exercise coaches, 40 physical therapists, and 70 part-time sports students to run public senior exercise clubs. Seniors actively participate in a comfortable gym environment, doing various exercises, all integrating exercise naturally into daily life. Huimin argues that this approach not only boosts the quality of life of elders it also lowers social healthcare costs, benefiting individuals and society alike (Ibid, pp. 389–90).

Elaborating his reflections on the relationship between healthy habits in life and a good death, Huimin refers to a prayer by Song Dynasty master Ciyun Zunshi (慈雲遵式 964–1032) that is often recited during chanting and meditation ceremonies. It expresses the wish: “At the moment of death, knowing the time has come, without physical pain, without clinging of the heart”. He presents this prayer as capturing the ideal Buddhist vision of death and dying. Huimin stresses that in order to realize this ideal, it is not enough to engage in conventional Buddhist cultivation practices such as frequently chanting the Buddha’s name to maintain mindfulness and purity in body, speech, and mind, but one must be aware of how modern lifestyles promote physical inactivity through technological convenience. He reminds his readers that medical advances have increased life expectancy, yet this has also resulted in aging societies. This is why cultivating exercise habits early in life is so important; it helps maintain physical and mental health in old age.

Besides exercising Huimin also stresses the importance of meditation and its various benefits, particularly in breaking unhealthy habits. He posits that most cardiovascular diseases, diabetes, cancer, and other chronic illnesses are caused or worsened by modifiable lifestyle factors, smoking, drinking, diet, a high BMI, and little physical activity. He emphasizes that lifestyle modification is therefore often the primary or supportive approach in medical treatment. Through meditation and mindfulness, one can practice taking greater responsibility for our life choices. Huimin further argues that Mindfulness (zhengnian 正念) is therefore particularly useful in the context of participatory medicine by promoting an individual’s internal resources, helping prevent illness and supporting recovery to improve health. In the context of more serious illness, mindfulness and meditation can refine awareness, modulate subjective pain, and improve coping abilities (Ibid, pp. 391–94).

9. Ethics: The Community Pure Land

At the heart of Huimin’s considerations on death and dying lies his notion of a ‘Community Pure Land’ (shequ jingtu 社區淨土). He presents this ethical and communal vision not as a departure from his earlier work on palliative care and dying well, but as its natural extension, broadening end-of-life concern into a collective project of cultivating environments that support good living and good dying while at the same time situating them within the broader context of the modern Chinese Buddhist notion of the ‘Pure Land in the Human Realm’ (Jones 2021). This concept, which was developed by Taixu later became mainstream in Taiwanese Buddhism, with influential organizations such as Fo Guang Shan and Dharma Drum Mountain widely adopting the term (Reinke 2017). The notion of the ‘Pure Land in the Human Realm’ is linked to a famous sentence from the Vimalakīrti Sūtra (Weimojie jing 維摩詰經): “when the mind is purified, the Buddha lands will be purified”.11 It is therefore no surprise that Huimin, in a contribution to the Third Chinese International Buddhist Conference on “Pure Land and Modern Society” (1997), presented a study titled Investigation of ‘When the Mind is Pure, the Buddha Land is Pure.’ The central conclusion of his reflection was expressed as follows: “Purification of self and others equals purification of sentient beings, which in turn leads to purification of the Buddha Land” (zi ta xing jing = zhongsheng jing > fotu jing;自他行淨＝眾生淨＞佛土淨). This formulation reflects a fundamental assumption within Taiwanese socially engaged Buddhism.

By 2004, Huimin began to emphasize the practical implications of this insight, coining the term ‘community Pure Land’ (shequ jingtu 社區淨土) as a concrete goal for contemporary Taiwanese society. Huimin observes that many people, upon hearing the term Pure Land, immediately associate it with the recitation of Amitābha Buddha’s name as a means to attain rebirth in his Western Pure Land. However, Huimin emphasizes instead the practice of the Bodhisattva’s Pure Land, drawing upon the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, along with other sources from the tradition. He argues that the purification of one’s own conduct, together with that of others, entails the purification of all sentient beings, which in turn leads to the purification of the land. Or, as he expresses it: “When the conduct of self and others is purified, sentient beings are purified, and the Buddha-land becomes pure (Ibid, pp. 399–403).

The Vimalakīrti Sūtra thus provides a key doctrinal foundation for Huimin’s position. In the chapter on the Buddha Land, the layman Bhikshu Baosheng asks the Buddha to explain the Bodhisattva practice of purifying Buddha Lands, as five hundred lay followers have generated the aspiration for awakening (a nou duo luo san miao san pu ti xin 阿耨多羅三藐三菩提心). The Buddha replies that sentient beings themselves are the Bodhisattva’s Buddha Land, employing the metaphor of empty land as the foundation for constructing palaces, possible on solid ground but not in empty space. Likewise, sentient beings are the indispensable basis for the realization of a Buddha Land. Thus, to purify the Buddha Land, one must first purify sentient beings, which requires cultivating their moral and spiritual qualities through the Bodhisattva path.

Reflecting on how to concretely apply this fundamental principle of Humanistic or renjian (人間, literal translation, ‘human realm’) Buddhism to contemporary society, Huimin refers to his above-mentioned notion of the Community Pure Land. A community, in his definition, is the intermediate unit between the family and society at large, a sphere where people share a common space, maintain communication, form consensus, and act collectively. In his vision, the Community Pure Land serves as a practical locus for translating Buddhist values into social development. Its scope encompasses both material and spiritual dimensions: improving public infrastructure such as sanitation, roads, and lighting; organizing cooperative welfare programs for childcare, employment, and elder care; and fostering ethical and cultural initiatives like reading clubs, educational activities, and end-of-life support teams. Here, the local is not a space opposed to the global or universal but rather a specific, familiar space in which a multitude of practices, values, and discourses are embedded and mutually interact.

Huimin further extends the idea to what he calls “casual communities” (suiyuan shequ 隨緣社區), temporary social configurations formed by chance encounters, such as people sharing a train compartment or waiting in line at a bank. He argues that the spirit of the Community Pure Land can and should manifest in these fleeting contexts through small acts of consideration that enhance collective well-being. As an example, he notes that returning luggage carts at an airport, rather than leaving them scattered, contributes to a cleaner, more harmonious space and inspires others to act similarly. Such everyday gestures, Huimin suggests, are the seeds of a Pure Land in this world, demonstrating that purity is not an abstract metaphysical state but a lived, relational process embedded in ordinary social life (Ibid, p. 403).

As the preceding sections illustrate, Huimin situates the individual within a communal context. Consequently, he places strong emphasis on ethical discipline or śīlas (jie 戒), framing it as foundational for Buddhist practice. In Huimin’s view, the cultivation of self cannot be separated from the well-being of others; personal purity (ziwo jing 自我淨) and the purity of others (taren jing 他人淨) together constitute the basis for the purification of sentient beings (zhongsheng jing 眾生淨), which ultimately gives rise to a purified Buddha Land (fotuo jing 佛土淨). This progression underscores his conviction that transformation begins with ethics, ethical conduct, compassion, and social responsibility, leading from inner purity to communal harmony and, by extension, to a Pure Land in this world.

This emphasis on Buddhist ethics is further evident in Huimin’s contemporary reinterpretation of the Buddhist Five Śīlas or Precepts (wu jie 五戒). Huimin situates these ethical guidelines within a historical trajectory of adaptation and renewal, highlighting their enduring significance for human life and their relevance in addressing the challenges of the twenty-first century.

10. Ethics: The Śīlas

Historically, the integration of the Five Precepts into the Sinophone cultural sphere involved a creative process of reinterpretation. As early as the Tang dynasty, the Huayan master Guifeng Zongmi (Guifeng Zongmi圭峰宗密 780–841) sought to distinguish and synthesize the ethical systems of Confucianism, Daoism, popular religious beliefs, and Buddhism. In this work, he famously compared the Buddhist Five Precepts—abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, harmful speech, and intoxicants—to the Confucian “Five Constants” (wu chang 五常) formulated by Dong Zhongshu during the Han dynasty: benevolence (ren 仁), righteousness (yi 義), propriety (li 禮), wisdom (zhi 智), and faithfulness (xin 信). In this scheme, refraining from killing aligns with benevolence; refraining from stealing corresponds to righteousness; abstaining from sexual misconduct relates to propriety; truthfulness resonates with faithfulness; and avoiding intoxicants preserves clarity of mind, thus supporting wisdom. Such analogies, Huimin observes, were historically significant because they allowed Buddhism to root itself in Chinese society by aligning with prevailing moral frameworks.

For Huimin, this historical example serves as a precedent for contemporary reinterpretations. He argues that the ethical vision embedded in the Five Precepts must be continuously rearticulated in light of current social realities. The Five Precepts, in his view, are not only the foundation of Buddhist practice but also “the basis of human culture” (renlei wenhua de jichu 人類文化的基礎) (Ibid, p. 405). Observance of these principles protects the conditions necessary for human flourishing, personal safety, social trust, and environmental sustainability. When upheld, the precepts foster virtues such as compassion, wisdom, and liberation; when ignored, the destructive potential of human beings, as Huimin reminds us, can surpass that of non-human animals, creating conditions of suffering comparable to the “three evil realms” (san e dao 三惡道)—hell beings, hungry ghosts, and animals—manifested in this very world through war, famine, and ecological devastation.

Receiving and observing precepts (shou jie 受戒), Huimin emphasizes, is therefore more than a private moral choice; it signifies an existential stance, a conscious affirmation of one’s role within the web of life on earth. This commitment is ritually enacted through the ceremony of taking refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha (san gui 三皈), coupled with a public vow to uphold the Five Precepts. In Huimin’s interpretation, this transition, from simply “taking refuge” (guiyi 皈依) to fully embracing the precepts, marks the transformation from nominal affiliation to an actual Buddhist, who adopts ethical discipline as a lifelong learning process and as a compass for responsible action in a globalized, interconnected world.

In his call for a “new interpretation” of the Five Precepts, Huimin proposes an expanded vision that links traditional Buddhist ethics to pressing global concerns such as environmental degradation, economic inequality, and social fragmentation. He reframes each precept with positive formulations: (1) Protect life and cherish the environment (baohu shengming, aihu huanjing 保護生命，愛護環境): Extending non-harming beyond interpersonal relations to include ecological responsibility, biodiversity conservation, and sustainable living. (2) Give generously and contribute to society (leyu bushi, huifu shehui 樂於布施，回饋社會): Moving from mere non-stealing toward active engagement in poverty alleviation and social welfare through generosity and voluntary service. (3) Love and respect family, honor trust (aihu jiating, zunzhong xinyong 愛護家庭，尊重信用): Interpreting sexual ethics as the cultivation of trust and responsibility within intimate and social relationships. (4) Speak honestly and communicate kindly (chengshi yanjiang, shanmei goutong 誠實言講，善美溝通): Emphasizing truthful and harmonious speech as a foundation for interpersonal trust and social stability. (5) Maintain mindfulness and clarity of body and mind (baochi juezhao yu shenxin qingjing 保持覺照與身心清淨): Expanding the prohibition of intoxicants into a broader call for mental clarity and holistic well-being (Ibid, pp. 403–7).

Huimin envisions this ethical framework as the basis for “self-and-other purification” (zi ta jinghua 自他淨化) and the realization of Community Pure Land (shequ jingtu 社區淨土), thus linking individual moral cultivation to communal and ecological transformation. In 2010, Huimin further developed his contemporary interpretations of the Buddhist śīlas. These are smiling (wei xiao 微笑), brushing one’s teeth (shua ya 刷牙), exercising (yun dong 運動), eating properly (chi dui 吃對), and sleeping well (shui hao 睡好). This interpretation goes back to Dr. Chen Qianyuan (陳前元), a family physician, who opened a clinic together with his pharmacist wife. They requested a simple text to display it in their clinic and pharmacy to help promote health education from Huimin. He added four-line verses explaining each precept to make them easier to remember and learn.

The first precept is smile. Huimin writes that it is said that contentment brings constant joy, helping others brings happiness, nirvana is the greatest joy, and when the heart is joyful, the body is joyful (Ibid, pp. 421–23). He explains that smiling regularly and genuinely, starting with gratitude and contentment, helps us appreciate health, senses, and a life free from worry compared to others less fortunate. Huimin explains that one cultivates gratitude and the wish to help others, inspired by Buddhist teachings on compassion and joy in helping. This joy in altruism and environmental care benefits both mind and body health. He refers to Sheng Yen, quoting him that giving brings blessings, doing good brings happiness, and mindfulness brings joy. This links to the Three Marks of Existence (san fa xiang 三法相) and three Buddhist paths: impermanence (wu chang 無常) leading to contentment on the liberation path (jie tuo dao 解脫道), no-self (wu wo 無我) inspiring helping others on the Bodhisattva path (pu sa dao 菩薩道), and nirvana (nie pan 涅槃) bringing ultimate happiness on the Nirvana path (nie pan dao 涅槃道).

Huimin further explains that observing impermanence means recognizing that life, senses, social and environmental conditions constantly change; by comparison, one recognizes their blessings. Practicing moral discipline leads to joy, tranquility, and liberation as taught in Buddhist scriptures. Reflecting on no-self, cultivating compassion and joy in helping others, embodies the Bodhisattva path. Nirvana’s joy comes from the cessation of impermanence and suffering; Chan teaches seeing through the impermanence of sensory experiences to realize no-self and emptiness. The highest peace and joy arise from this insight into emptiness and nirvana (Ibid, pp. 423–25).

The second precept, brushing teeth (shua ya 刷牙). It includes flossing (pei he ya xian 配合牙線), brushing after meals (sui shi shua ya 隨食刷牙), and brushing back and forth (liang liang lai hui 兩兩來回), with the goal that clean teeth lead to a clean mind (ya jing xin jing 牙淨心淨). Huimin argues that good oral hygiene is essential not only for physical health but also for cultivating a pure mind. Clean teeth help prevent dementia, heart disease, and other illnesses. Studies show that poor oral health increases the risk of inflammation associated with Alzheimer’s disease and cardiovascular problems. Brushing thoroughly in a systematic order removes plaque and improves quality of life. Consistent brushing also supports the cultivation of good mental habits. Or, in other words, “Clean teeth lead to a clean mind; a clean mind leads to a Pure Land” (ya jing xin jing, xin jing jing tu 牙淨心淨，心淨淨土) (Ibid, pp. 425–26).

The third precept is exercise. It follows the “Fitness 333 Plan” (zhou san san san 週三三三), three times a week, thirty minutes each session, focusing on chest, arms, abdomen, and legs (xiong bi fu tui 胸臂腹腿). Balance and flexibility (ping heng rou ruan 平衡柔軟) are key, as is keeping the mind present while moving (shen dong nian zai 身動念在). Aerobic and anaerobic exercise strengthen heart and lungs, muscles, and metabolism, alleviating common issues such as back pain and osteoporosis. Practices like yoga and tai chi improve balance and flexibility. Huimin argues that exercise integrates with the Buddhist “four foundations of mindfulness” (si nian chu 四念處) by training awareness of body, feelings, mind, and phenomena, thereby enhancing focus and mental strength. Regular mindful exercise supports both physical and mental well-being, helping overcome delusions and suffering. Maintaining such health enables continued support of others, even near the end of life (Ibid, pp. 426–27).

The fourth precept is eating right. According to Huimin, Taiwan’s Health Department updated the Daily Dietary Guidelines in 2011, emphasizing increased variety and color of fruits and vegetables, reducing rice portions, and prioritizing plant-based proteins. The guidelines recommend a balanced intake from six food groups, less fried, fatty, and pickled foods, more water, avoiding sugary drinks, and daily consumption of at least one-third whole grains rich in fiber, vitamins, and minerals. He further explains that additional recommendations include adopting vegetarian diets, eating until 80% full, and supplementing with beneficial bacteria such as bifidobacteria and lactobacillus, as well as prebiotics like isomalto-oligosaccharides and dietary fiber to support gut health and immunity. Huimin emphasizes that maintaining such dietary discipline aligns with Buddhist practices of moderation and mindfulness in eating. Drinking five to six cups of water daily, especially one glass of cold water on an empty stomach, helps stimulate colon movement. At the same time, he cautions against excessive water intake during meals to avoid dilution of digestive juices, which may impair digestion (Ibid, pp. 427–28).

The fifth precept is sleeping well. Huimin highlights the importance of developing good sleep habits by avoiding late nights, maintaining regular sleep schedules, resting around 10 p.m., sleeping early, and rising early. Naps should be limited to 20–30 min to prevent disruption of the body’s internal clock and nighttime sleep. Buddhist teachings encourage maintaining mindfulness and clear awareness even during sleep, allowing practitioners to recall and observe learned practices and quickly abandon arising afflictions. Sleepiness and drowsiness are obstacles to meditation; one of five hindrances Buddhism identifies: desire, anger, drowsiness, restlessness, and doubt.

Huimin emphasizes that by practicing these five health precepts, smile, brush teeth, exercise, eat right, and sleep well, one supports physical and mental health, and also develops ethics, meditation, and wisdom. These habits cultivate mindfulness, balance, and resilience in daily life, helping to overcome suffering and maintain wellbeing. Huimin emphasizes that spreading these precepts can enhance not only individual health but also the harmony and wellbeing of society as a whole (Ibid, p. 29). Huimin frames these ethical and health-oriented reinterpretations of the precepts as a direct extension of his earlier work on palliative care and dying well. Rather than limiting his concern about a good death to the final stages of life, he expands it into a lifelong practice that begins with everyday habits of body and mind. The cultivation of health, mindfulness, and ethical discipline thus prepares individuals and communities alike for aging, illness, and death. In this sense, his reformulation of the precepts and the Community Pure Land together articulate a continuous trajectory from end-of-life care to daily self-cultivation and community well-being.

Huimin has introduced yet another contemporary version of the Five Precepts to complement the health-focused set presented earlier. This new framework, called the Lifelong Learning Five Precepts (chang sheng xue xi wu jie 長生學習五戒), shifts the focus toward ongoing personal growth and mindful self-cultivation. Daily habits, guided through precepts, build life resources. The five health precepts—smile, brush teeth, exercise, eat well, and sleep well—focus on maintaining physical and mental wellbeing. The lifelong learning precepts add to read (yue du 閱讀), to record what one has learned (ji lu 記錄), to research (yan can 研參), to share what one has learned (fa biao 發表), and to practice (shi xing 實行). Together, these two modern interpretations offer his broader vision of Buddhist-inspired wellbeing, integrating physical health with continuous learning and ethical development in today’s world.

Huimin explains that reading refers to broad learning and extensive listening (guang xue duo wen 廣學多聞). Learning the Dharma requires attentively listening to and reading the Tripitaka, which includes sutras, Vinaya, and treatises. Through following, studying, and spreading these teachings, one cultivates wisdom, leading to liberation. However, he stresses that the Mahāyāna also embraces secular knowledge, traditionally expressed in the ‘five sciences’ (wu ke 五科): inner knowledge (nei ke 內科), medicine (yi ke 醫科), logic (li ke 理科), linguistics (yu yan ke 語言科), and crafts (ji shu ke 技術科). In the contemporary era, learning further includes the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. Huimin shares that he himself reads Buddhist texts but also subscribes to magazines such as Reader’s Digest, Scientific American, Newton, and The Economist.

Huimin describes recording as a form of knowledge management (zhi shi guan li 知識管理). Wisdom gained from hearing comes through listening, reading aloud, and memorizing. Before electronic media, memorization was essential, and memory techniques were developed in India to support this. However, in today’s age of information overload and memory illusions, relying on memory alone is insufficient. Huimin emphasizes the importance of timely recording habits to maintain and expand wisdom. He points to tools like Evernote, a digital, cloud-based notebook that allows flexible recording and organization across devices. Features such as multiple input types, tagging, sharing, and powerful search functions enhance knowledge management. Knowledge evolves from raw data to wisdom through processes of organization, validation, and application. Knowledge management therefore transforms tacit knowledge (an zhi 燦智) into explicit knowledge (ming zhi 明智).

Huimin draws on the Yogācāra Bhumi-shastra (Yu Jia Di Ji li lun 瑜伽師地論), chapter 16, to explain research and inquiry (yan can 研參) as rooted in pure wisdom arising from thinking (si suo cheng hui 思所成慧). This wisdom embodies nine qualities: solitary and quiet contemplation based on accurate understanding of teachings heard; avoiding meaningless or inconceivable topics while focusing on proper subjects; discerning false from true statements; relying on meaning rather than words alone; balancing faith and analytical wisdom; steadfast and stable concentration; continuous reflection; and thorough investigation without fear or giving up. These qualities guide inquiry into doubts about learned knowledge. Huimin notes that modern analytical tools supporting this inquiry include hierarchical document outlines, mind mapping software like Xmind, and spreadsheets for statistical calculations.

Huimin emphasizes that publishing and sharing are essential steps following listening, recording, and reflection to achieve wisdom through thinking (si suo cheng hui 思所成慧). He points out that working in isolation impedes progress, while peer review and academic publication systems ensure the quality and reliability of knowledge derived from hearing and thinking. Transparency in one’s hearing and thinking allows collective scrutiny and support, which helps maintain purity across the three practices of hearing, thinking, and practice (wen, si, xiu 聞、思、修). Huimin further argues that openness to global evaluation fosters creativity, generates value, and cultivates boundless merit. He highlights how Web 2.0 technologies empower users to share, interact, and participate anytime and anywhere. Tools such as blogs, social bookmarking, wikis, and social networks accelerate information sharing and contribute to the creation of rich, diverse knowledge resources.

Huimin explains that practice aligns closely with meditative insight and embodied observation. Buddhism highly values oral transmission and memorization, but especially the progression from knowledge to action and verification, which ultimately leads to wisdom. He highlights the Ekottara Āgama (Zeng Yi a han Jing 增壹阿含經), which stresses that mere repetition without understanding is meaningless; true practice involves focusing on fewer but more meaningful teachings that lead to realization and self-mastery.

According to Huimin, internalization and embodied experience are essential for cultivating wisdom that both liberates oneself and benefits others. He stresses that Buddhist scriptures such as the Eight Realizations Sutra (Ba Da Ren Jue Jing 八大人覺經) and the Mahā-prajñā-pāramitā-sūtra (Da Ban Ruo Jing大般若經) emphasize broad learning, compassion, renunciation, and teaching for the benefit of others. By integrating the three wisdoms, hearing, thinking, and practicing, with these five lifelong learning habits, Huimin believes one supports the Bodhisattva path effectively. He also notes that maintaining physical and mental health through the five health precepts, smiling, brushing, exercising, eating well, and sleeping well, provides a vital foundation for lifelong learning and compassionate action. Ultimately, Huimin envisions cultivating a Community Pure Land as a practical preparation for an aging society, fulfilling a vision of purification and care for oneself and others (Ibid, pp. 430–36).

11. The Notion of a Good Death

Drawing together his preceding reflections on palliative care, lifestyle cultivation, ethical discipline, and Community Pure Land, Huimin’s considerations ultimately lead to the fundamental question: what constitutes a good death? In the Sinophone cultural context, the notion of a “good death” (shanzhong 善終) holds great significance. What does it truly mean to die well? Commonly, it involves passing away at home, surrounded by family, experiencing a natural, peaceful death, and avoiding sudden or unexpected death. Yet, how do these traditional ideals translate into the modern context of palliative care? Huimin reflects on the different understandings of a “good death” in a translocative context. He raises the example of Western contemporary hospice care, which explicitly takes the “good death” as its central goal. Huimin notes that Western bioethics often frames this ideal through six key criteria, commonly referred to as the 6Cs: care, control, composure, communication, continuity, and closure. These values emphasize autonomy, dignity, and relational wholeness at the end of life. Taiwanese scholars, however, have highlighted a different set of indicators reflecting local sensibilities: awareness, acceptance, arrangements, timing, and comfort. These dimensions suggest a moral orientation toward preparation, harmony, and relational responsibility, rather than autonomy alone.

Huimin shares an anecdote from a 2011 university presidents’ conference at Chung Hsing University. One contribution reflected on what trees can teach us about life and death. The heartwood of a fir tree served as a powerful metaphor for dying well. Heartwood, formed gradually over decades, consists of dead cells, yet it is precisely this non-living core that provides enduring strength and stability. The tree, alive at its periphery, reaches towering heights because of what has died within. Unlike the transient vitality of leaves and sapwood, the heartwood’s death sustains life, making possible new growth while offering enduring material value even after the tree itself falls.

Huimin posits that this ecological insight resonates with classical Buddhist imagery. In the Pāli canon (MN 29) and its Chinese counterpart, the Ekottara Āgama (Zeng Yi Ahan Jing 增一阿含經, vol. 38), the Buddha likens the true goal of practice to obtaining a tree’s heartwood. Those who cling to reputation (branches), precepts (outer bark), meditation (inner bark), or even psychic powers (sapwood) miss the point if they neglect liberation, the heartwood itself. Huimin emphasizes that it is the dead part of the wood that gives the tree stability.

Continuing with analogues from biology, Huimin states that certain cells in the mammalian body, such as red blood cells and the keratinized layers of skin, continue to serve essential functions even after their “death”. Red blood cells, anucleate and organelle-free, can no longer repair themselves, yet this very feature optimizes them for oxygen transport, sustaining life until their programmed removal. Similarly, the stratum corneum, composed of dead keratinized cells, forms a protective barrier that preserves the body’s internal equilibrium. He emphasizes that these forms of cellular death are neither chaotic nor meaningless; they are patterned, purposive, and life-enabling.

Taken together, Huimin argues, these examples, arboreal heartwood, keratinized cells, and anucleate red blood cells, illuminate a fundamental paradox: that death can be life’s condition. Alive yet impermanent; dead yet enduring, this duality reminds Huimin of Tagore’s verse: “Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves”. Both gain meaning through usefulness, echoing the Sanskrit concept of artha: purpose, benefit, significance. In this light, the good death is not mere cessation but a transformation into value, continuity, and service, whether for the living, for a community, or, in Buddhist terms, for liberation itself (Ibid, pp. 395–99).

12. Conclusions

As this article has argued, Huimin does not understand engagement with practices related to death and dying as standing in opposition to contributing to the greater good of society, a central goal of the reform project of Buddhist modernization that began more than a century ago. Rather, as his writings illustrate, concern for aging, dying, and death can be understood as an important expression of Buddhist social engagement under contemporary conditions.

In this way, Shi Huimin’s work does not merely aim to adapt or localize globally expanding practices and discourses of spiritual and palliative care to the Taiwanese context. Instead, he seeks to move beyond their Christian-centric framing, revealing the particularistic origins. In other words, he exposes the locality of these universalist claims, thereby “provincializing Europe” in a Chakrabartian sense. Hui does this by working with a conjoined and disjunctive genealogy of terminologies, discourses, and practices, from the sciences as well as traditional and modernist Buddhism, thereby, as Chakrabarty puts it, engaging “the necessarily fragmentary histories of human belonging that never constitute a one or a whole” (Chakrabarty 2000, p. 255).

Huimin does not present a completely separate Buddhist alternative applicable only to practicing Mahayana Buddhists. Rather, he brings into conversation a variety of resources: traditional and modernist Chinese Mahāyāna Buddhist discourses, as well as Western European and U.S. discourses from public health, medicine, and science. This results in an amalgamation that is neither purely Buddhist nor purely Western, but a living, evolving framework suited to the needs of a multireligious, secular, and aging Taiwanese society.

In contrast to Taixu, who linked Buddhist doctrine to globally circulating utopian ideas popular in early twentieth-century China under the idiom of the “Pure Land in the Human Realm,” Huimin brings this project down to the level of the local community in contemporary Taiwan, with a stronger emphasis on daily routines and moral discipline. Particularly important here is his reformulation of the śīlas, not only as guidelines for everyday life but also as practices that facilitate healthy aging.

This shift moves beyond the neat compartmentalization and structural differentiation typical of Western modernity. Rather than isolating the elements of a “good death” as a discrete issue, Huimin links it to a broader ethical horizon: a good and ethical life, healthy aging, and communal responsibility.

While Huimin remains in conversation with Buddhist scriptures and thought, he does not seek to reshape palliative care, with its Christian origins, into an exclusively Buddhist framework. Rather, he reframes it more broadly for the Taiwanese context, where Buddhism is an important but not exclusive religious tradition. In doing so, he engages sociological concerns such as Taiwan’s rapidly aging society as well as scientific discourses. His goal is to extend concern about death toward concern for a good life, healthy aging, and a good death. Seen in this light, his efforts to localize palliative care, together with his reflections on the Community Pure Land and his reformulation of the sīlas, form part of a single ethical project.

This approach ultimately suggests a model that may be relevant beyond Taiwan, in societies facing similar challenges of aging, secularization, and culturally diverse end-of-life care. It thus contributes to an emerging global landscape of death care in which the boundaries between the local and the universal are continuously renegotiated.

This study has focused on Huimin’s conceptual contributions rather than their institutional or practical realization. How these ideas are taken up, adapted, and transformed in concrete settings—including by Buddhist organizations and through broader cultural and media practices—remains an open question. Addressing these dynamics constitutes the next stage of the broader research project of which this article forms a part.