Luang Phor Phuang (Luang Phor Phueng) of Wat Kok — A Quiet Power in Bang Khun Thian
Wat Kok (Wat Koh), Chom Thong/Bang Khun Thian, Bangkok
Born around BE 2400 in Samae Dam, Bang Khun Thian, the boy who would become Luang Phor Phuang (often rendered “Phueng”) showed early gentleness and an inquisitive mind. At eight he asked to enter the temple school as a novice, learned quickly, and won the trust of his teachers. When of age he ordained at Wat Kok, receiving the monastic name Thamchoti—“one who understands and embodies Dhamma”—under a preceptor from Wat Hua Krabue with Luang Phor Khong of Wat Kok as chant teacher. From them he took his bearings in Vipassana, discipline, and the quiet dignity that marked his later life.
Phuang’s formation combined close study and long tudong wanderings. He absorbed the esoteric methods and protective arts that Luang Phor Khong was known for, then disappeared for stretches into the forests, returning with a deeper stillness. After Khong’s passing—and a brief tenure by Abbot Phor Dit—the villagers and temple committee asked Phuang to lead. He consented, modernized Wat Kok, and guided it toward stability without fanfare. Those who approached him found a monk reserved in speech but unfailingly kind; stern to the eye, soft at the heart.
His authority was recognized quickly. In BE 2440—barely two decades after ordination—he was appointed Phra Upachaya (preceptor), one of only three in Bang Khun Thian alongside the famed Luang Pu Iam of Wat Nang. He in turn ordained and mentored future leaders, including Luang Phor Pai of Wat Kamphaeng, transmitting not only Vinaya and kammatthāna meditation but the gracious magnetism Thais call Metta Mahaniyom.
The amulets linked to his name trace a quiet arc of temple service rather than commerce. Early on he prepared takruds, yantra cloths, and protective pieces for disciples. In BE 2470 he issued rare palm-leaf powder Buddha images in meditation; in BE 2473 a series of baked-clay powder amulets in 24 designs; and in BE 2478 distinctive cast-metal pieces in cloud-patterned brass, both oval and round. Collectors prize them today for balanced form and consistent field testimony of klaew-klaad (evasion of danger), metta, and steadying protection.
Around him grew a ring of stories that, in aggregate, sketch the man: robes untouched by a downpour as companions were drenched; a drifting boat summoned back against the current with a calm command; a midnight crossing of a pond’s surface witnessed by Luang Pu Ming, who thereafter took up meditation under him; a warning delivered to palace guards that another monk’s boat was leaking—confirmed on inspection. Former disciple Phra Arun remembered a preceptor who handled no money and kept the Vinaya exact, and the day a mistakenly locked kuti was nonetheless found occupied, as if locks were less binding than compassion.
Through it all he kept to simple rules—vegetarian diet, few words, much practice. Devotees recall an episode with King Chulalongkorn (Rama V): money respectfully offered, discreetly passed at once to a young attendant by the monk who would not touch it. Even his temple history he wore lightly, noting only that ancient Wat Kok was raised, by tradition, by three lay patrons to anchor the faith. Positions never held him; people did. He died in BE 2480 (1937), about eighty years of age and sixty in robes, leaving a temple made durable and a reputation that still draws pilgrims to the quiet lanes of Bang Khun Thian.