It’s just before 6 p.m. on a Tuesday at the Oakmont Carnegie Library. In the basement’s Oak Room, a dozen Pittsburghers are already seated cross-legged on the floor or sinking into folding chairs. More are slowly trickling in. Libraries are supposed to be quiet, but this evening, it’s almost unnaturally still.
Down the hallway, past a minefield of plastic train tables and ride-on toys, three monks stroll in, barefoot and unbothered, their vivid saffron robes swaying like they just stepped out of a temple in Kandy.
One woman clutches a dog-eared novel. Another closes her eyes as Bhante Pemaratana, a TheravÄda Buddhist monk, soft-spoken and smiling, welcomes everyone with folded hands.
Pemaratana gently guides the community through a meditation practice that has become a weekly ritual, both here and in libraries across Allegheny County, for more than a decade.
“We just want to be helpful to people. If people can learn these important techniques to calm their minds and keep their minds free from unnecessary worries, we are happy to dedicate our time,” he tells Pittsburgh City Paper.
That unassuming library session is just one of many portals into the world of the Pittsburgh Buddhist Center, a TheravÄda temple tucked into a wooded corner of Allison Park. From free children’s Zoom meditations to Sri Lankan food festivals, the center reaches across Western Pennsylvania, bringing Buddhists and others together through service and community.
Founded in 2006 by a group of Sri Lankan professionals from Altoona, State College, and Pittsburgh, the Center was created as a peaceful place to meditate and study the Buddha’s teachings. From the beginning, it was meant to be open to all. The founders needed someone who could bridge cultures, a monk fluent in both the Dhamma and the English language.
Pemaratana, who was happily based in Sri Lanka at the time, wasn’t interested.
“I felt that the U.S. was very far, almost the other side of the globe,” he recalls. “I was also not familiar with American or Western culture.”
But the community was persistent. He agreed to visit in 2007, just to see. What he found was a real need, a warm welcome, and the sense that he could be of service.
He returned to Sri Lanka, received his monastic master’s blessing, and moved to Pittsburgh in 2008. The transition wasn’t easy. He had to learn to drive, adapt to a new culture, and build trust in communities unfamiliar with Buddhism.
That same year, he enrolled in the University of Pittsburgh’s Ph.D. program in Religious Studies, focusing on how Buddhism has modernized across Asia.
“My studies at Pitt gave me both an insider’s and an outsider’s view into Buddhism,” he says. “It helped me reflect on my own tradition with fresh eyes.” Today, he is the chief monk at PBC and also teaches Asian religions and the history of meditation at Carnegie Mellon University.
For 15 years, the Center operated out of a modest home in Natrona Heights. In 2021, it moved into its current location in Allison Park, nestled in the woods near Deer Creek. The setting is serene, ideal for meditation, and reflective of the center’s deepening roots.
But physical space is just the beginning. What sets the Pittsburgh Buddhist Center apart is its reach. Pemaratana and his fellow monks, now a trio, lead free guided meditations at libraries in East Liberty, Fox Chapel, and Penn Hills. Every Sunday, kids from across the country log on for Zoom meditation. The Center also brings chanting and mindfulness to assisted living homes, and, until SCI Pittsburgh shut down, to the incarcerated.
These free, secular meditation classes have made mindfulness accessible to people who might never set foot in a Buddhist temple.
They’ve built up a surprisingly robust YouTube presence, too. And during Tuesday night meditations at the temple, it’s not uncommon to spot participants joining the livestreamed event from Singapore or Malaysia — Wednesday morning for them, a zen start to the workday.
“In the library setting, we offer a secular version of meditation,” Pemaratana says. “People feel comfortable coming to a place they already know.”
The impact has been profound. One participant with multiple sclerosis said his doctor could tell from his scans whether he had been meditating. Another said the sessions helped regulate blood pressure. A family made a donation to the Cooper-Siegel Library in honor of the monks. Others report that they simply sleep better or fight less with their spouses.
Yet the teachings go deeper than stress relief. The foundation of TheravÄda Buddhism lies in the Four Noble Truths — understanding suffering, its causes, and the path to its end. Pemaratana encourages students to sit with difficulty, examine their pain, and respond with compassion and wisdom.
“Suffering is understood as arising from causes and conditions both mental and social. A practitioner is encouraged to look at their life, recognize what they can change, and accept what they cannot with equanimity,” he says.
Occasionally, the teachings drift into more unexpected territory.
“People are also getting interested in learning the relationship between the Buddhist view of the world and quantum physics,” Pemaratana says. “Some are curious to learn about rebirth.”
That kind of crossover — between Buddhist philosophy and quantum mechanics — has found surprising popularity. The Dalai Lama helped spark this interest by hosting Mind & Life conferences with scientists starting in 1987. Books like The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra and The Quantum and the Lotus by Matthieu Ricard (a Buddhist monk with a Ph.D. in molecular genetics) made the parallels feel thrillingly possible.
Both Buddhism and quantum physics challenge the idea of a fixed, independent self. In physics, particles don’t take on definite properties until observed. In Buddhism, the self is a shifting constellation of mental and physical processes — the five aggregates. As for rebirth? That’s not something science can measure, but the question is welcomed.
“It’s not always the main focus of our practice,” Pemaratana says with a smile. “But people are curious. And we welcome questions.”
That includes questions from younger people.
The weekly Zoom meditations for kids, a pandemic-era creation, stuck around because children wanted to keep showing up. There are monthly Buddhism classes for young people and a summer camp, too.
“Starting early helps them build healthy mental habits before negative patterns take root,” Pemaratana says.
Every class, talk, Zoom session, and visit is free. It’s a core principle in Buddhism, called daana, or generosity. “It’s trust in each other,” Pemaratana says. “And that trust has been honored.”
The Center’s cultural events are equally thoughtful. On New Year’s Day, people wear traditional Sri Lankan dress, cook family dishes, and perform rituals of gratitude and forgiveness. In spring, Vesak celebrates the Buddha’s birth, enlightenment, and death with oil lamps and Dhamma talks.
Service is stitched into everything. There are three annual food drives for the West Deer Food Bank. In December, the Center ships school supplies and 300 backpacks to underserved kids in Sri Lanka. Families cook vegetarian dishes for monthly temple potlucks. Everyone eats together.
But if you’re really hungry, the fall Sri Lankan Food Festival is the showstopper. The parking lot transforms into a cultural buffet of hoppers (bowl-shaped coconut rice pancakes with egg), spicy jackfruit curry, sambal, Ambul Thiyal (blackened fish), and kottu roti. Since there’s no Sri Lankan restaurant in Pittsburgh, for many, this is the only way in.
“Sharing food is an expression of love,” Pemaratana says. “You put effort and care into making something, and then you let someone else enjoy it. That is generosity.”
One memory stays with him. A friend introduced Pemaratana to a man with a terminal brain tumor who wanted help staying calm. He taught the man to use his breath as refuge. As the illness progressed and his senses faded, the man continued to meditate. Pemaratana was by his side, chanting, when he took his final breath.
“That moment comes to my mind very often,” he says. “It taught me the fragility and preciousness of life, and how far a little help can go.”
Inside the Allison Park center, plans for the future are already unfolding. Pemaratana hopes to build meditation cabins by the creek, expand the outdoor trail, and continue evolving the space into a deeper refuge.
“I would like people to carry the understanding of their inner potential to change and grow,” he says. “I also want people to develop trust in the goodness of others. Everyone has inner goodness. We just have to be skillful to bring that goodness out.”
This article appears in Jul 30 – Aug 5, 2025.
