In the Gelug world, reincarnated lamas—known as tulkus—are seen as beacons carrying forward the torch of enlightened wisdom. Each tulku is believed to choose rebirth consciously, returning again and again to guide sentient beings out of suffering. This isn’t just an old-school fairy tale; it’s woven into every level of Gelug monastic life, from the highest Dalai Lama lineage down to local teaching masters.

When a high lama passes, a careful search takes shape. Senior monks, or sometimes the Dalai Lama himself, pool their insights—examining visions, prophetic letters, or subtle signs in nature. Once potential candidates emerge, tests follow. A child’s ability to recognize ritual objects belonging to their predecessor can seal the deal. Even in 2023, during the search for the next incarnation of a major Gelugpa figure, that age-old ritual continues with remarkable consistency.

Education plays a starring role: a young tulku isn’t handed a crown and told to wing it. Rigorous training in philosophy, debate, meditation and ethics begins as soon as recognition is confirmed—no shortcuts allowed. Think of it as building a skyscraper from the ground up: a solid foundation in Buddhist logic and compassion ensures the structure won’t crumble.

A twist in recent headlines involves the Panchen Lama controversy, where Beijing’s choice clashes with Dharamsala’s. That dispute shines a light on how tulku recognition can become a political hot potato. Nevertheless, for most Gelugpas, the heart and soul of the system remains spiritual continuity—linking present-day practitioners to centuries of Tsongkhapa’s reformist vision.

Ultimately, the tulku framework offers both stability and renewal. Each reincarnation carries a fresh spark of insight, yet remains firmly rooted in the Gelug emphasis on scholarship, discipline and altruism. It’s a living bridge between past masters and future generations, ensuring that those age-old teachings never gather dust.