Waves of Devotion

People who joined Krishna consciousness at a very early age, including most of my students, usually had to struggle to put energy into attaining things that people in a normal, traditional society would be provided for almost automatically, like a stable marriage and a viable and satisfying means of employment. And even if those things were relatively settled, still, in modern life, the responsibility of raising a family are exceptionally time-consuming and straining. When you add to that the yogic commitment of near two hours of meditation daily for those initiated the question naturally arises whether at times Krishna consciousness is too much for some?

This realization arose at my Vyāsa-pūjā[1] this year. I was observing several students who had become somewhat distant from Krishna consciousness in their twenties and thirties and who are doing much better now having entered their forties. In fact, whether people had previously stuck to the path of Krishna consciousness strictly or not, I observed that, for the most part, people were advancing much more quickly in Krishna consciousness after finally becoming reasonably settled socially and occupationally. In my talk that day I even mentioned that one of the challenges of being their teacher when they were younger was adding to their already burdened life, often including very rocky and incompatible marriages, and the very substantial commitment of initiation in Krishna consciousness. While pondering this quandary of whether the burdens of modern life make a serious commitment to spiritual practice somewhat impractical, various random thoughts came to mind connected to this subject. I thought that it might be beneficial to list those thoughts and then try to resolve this tension between modern life and spiritual commitment.

What did Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura say?

Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura was once asked about the relationship between varṇāśrama[2] and Krishna consciousness. His answer: “Varṇāśrama provides an individual with physical, emotional, and social peace, and without physical, social, and mental peace what is the question of the higher endeavor of Krishna consciousness.” In other words, a society that guarantees a proper job according to one’s nature provides both one’s physical needs and one’s mental fulfillment in addition to a functional and peaceful society manned by well-trained people. These are all aspects of well-being and peacefulness, along with a functional marriage, which are supportive and even necessary for most people to gain the disposition required for a successful devotional practice without feeling overburdened by it.

Our work should be our fun.

The main joy in life should be a chosen occupation according to our proclivities, talents, and liking, either as intellectuals, administrators, merchants (including farming), and laborers (including craftsman). When our work itself is our joy, and we come home to a relatively peaceful family, it is so much easier to add to one’s life the austerities required for a dedicated spiritual practice. When work itself, however, is the austerity, the practices of Krishna consciousness can certainly seem like too much.

What did Śrīla Prabhupāda say?

Near the end of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s life, when no ordinary person in such a debilitated physical condition would dare consider travelling abroad, Śrīla Prabhupāda embarked on a journey to Gītā-nagarī farm to teach people how to live off the land. Unfortunately, by the time he reached London his condition worsened and he had to immediately return to Vṛndāvana. But his message was clear, and it was a message that he repeated throughout his teachings — that you cannot separate economics from spiritual life and thus self-sustainable communities based on simple living and high thinking is a requirement for most families to succeed in serious spiritual life. Time has arguably proven his concerns as valid. Without such support, too many families have become lax in their devotional commitments.

The sacrifice is always worth it.

The commitment to full Krishna consciousness is always worth it no matter how challenging, even if one can’t maintain their original commitment. Śrīla Prabhupāda makes it clear in numerous commentaries on verse 1.5.17 in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam that whatever one sacrifices for a full commitment to spiritual life is well worth it, even if one later becomes lax in his commitments. His paraphrase of the translation of this verse highlights the point:

“If a person, out of sentiment or for some other reason, takes to the shelter of the lotus feet of the Lord and in due course of time does not succeed in coming to the ultimate goal of life, or falls down due to lack of experience, there is no loss. But for a person who does not take to devotional service, yet executes his material duties very nicely, there is no gain.”

Conclusion

There is no loss ever in taking a risk for the sake of a sincere spiritual commitment, but it is always better to do everything one can to maintain one’s commitment, especially situating oneself the best one can according to one’s occupational and social proclivity. Obviously, a self-sustainable spiritual community, or as close a facsimile as possible, is the best way to do that. We should not underestimate its importance and thus, as far as possible, one should seek situations conducive to spiritual life so one is not feeling the pressure to choose between maintaining one’s material life and one’s spiritual commitments.

Saying that I also realize that for many valid reasons we are stuck in various situations not conducive or supportive of Krishna consciousness despite our best effort. Our only recourse then is to avail ourselves at every opportunity of the association of spiritually evolved devotees who certainly have the power to inspire us in the importance of spiritual life and give us a taste for the holy name. For ultimately, no matter how burdened we are with material responsibilities and karmically challenging situations, if by the mercy of a sadhu one can just understand the urgency of spiritual realization and gain a taste for the holy name, then Krishna consciousness will never be too much, and our challenges will just become opportunities to invoke Krishna’s mercy by showing Him our sincerity. And that mercy has no bounds!

[1] Vyāsa-pūjā is the appearance day of the spiritual master. Traditionally, the spiritual master shows his disciples how to honor their spiritual lineage by worshiping his own spiritual master and then, in turn, accepting homage and worship from his own disciples.

[2] Varṇāśrama was the traditional Indian social and economic structure based on situating oneself properly both occupationally and socially.

There are three tattvas, or subjects, that are very difficult to understand because they deal with the intersection of the spiritual and material realm: dhāma-tattva, śiva-tattva, and guru-tattva. I have an inspiration to simplify the concept of guru-tattva. Therefore I’m calling it “Guru for Dummies”, not because accepting a guru is for those that are not intelligent, but because there is an aspect of guru-tattva that I want to clarify in a simple way, and “for dummies” has become an appropriate appellation when one does that. I especially want to explain why accepting and surrendering to a guru makes sense, although the concept of full surrender, the foundation of accepting a guru, is challenging to accept in the modern age.

Why Guru?

The foundational principle of any worthy life, and certainly spiritual life, is to give up selfishness.

We can be selfless out of love or out of duty.

To be selfless out of love means acting to please someone out of the sole desire to make that person happy.

To act selflessly out of duty means to adhere to a truth or a set of principles that are higher than simply our own desires.

Either out of duty or love, a person of character surrenders to something more important than their own wish or opinion.

The highest demonstration of selflessness and surrender is when one’s love is not exclusive, but instead universal or inclusive of all creation, and when the truth we follow is not relative, but absolute.

The object of universal love and the highest truth is God, that being or consciousness inclusive of everything and the foundation of all truth. To truly surrender to God is to love all of His creation and is thus the epitome of selflessness.

A sincere person who seeks to give up selfishness and serve the Absolute Truth must seek and surrender to the will of God.

The will of God is found in sacred or revealed scriptures.

One who knows and lives those teachings is called guru.

By giving ourselves to the mission of a true guru and submissively learning from them, we thus also imbibe their life of selflessness.

How to Find Guru

The search for guru begins when we finally realize that our self-direction, life after life, has repeatedly brought us only misery, which thus inspires us to deeply pray for a higher truth other than our own selfish desires and opinions.

Hearing our prayer, God then reciprocates with us by sending a person that represents that higher truth. This is a person whose association, guidance, and example inspire in us śraddhā (faith). Śraddhā is the experience of the sublimity of bhakti (devotion) implanted deep in our hearts that gives us the strong conviction in bhakti as the goal of life and also the person and teachings that have given us such faith.

We then test that guru by submitting to his or her guidance, but not fully committing ourselves to that relationship until we are convinced of both that person’s spiritual authority and our connection to him or her as our teacher. If the person whom we follow is not selfless and surrendered to his guru, one’s faith will usually not last. A sincere person can then continue searching until they have found their guru.

When we come to a path or spiritual institution like ISKCON, represented by its founder Śrīla Prabhupāda, we will generally develop our faith first in the founder and his teachings before finding our specific initiating guru. In that case, by studying his teachings and praying to find a person who represents him, we will eventually find our initiating guru. Śrīla Prabhupāda will then remain our śikṣā guru, or main instructing guru.

It may not always be easy to find our guru. Sometimes even people we sincerely take shelter of disappoint us, but Krishna will not cheat us. A sincere person will eventually find his guru.

I guess that it is not so simple after all, and there are so many aspects of guru-tattva that I could not cover. Anyway, I tried to simplify a difficult subject and that’s my attempt at “Guru for Dummies.”[1]

[1] One more thing: While writing this I was sent a very interesting and brilliant article by the late Śrīla B.R. Śrīdhara Mahārāja, which I had read before, that in many ways exemplifies in the most lucid way what is Guru. If you have time I highly recommend it: https://gosai.com/chaitanya/srila_sridhara_mj/sri_guru/sri_guru_intro.html

“Where are you calling from Dennis?”

“Vṛndāvana.”

“How is my Vṛndāvana?”

I couldn’t believe how sweetly and affectionately my mother voiced those two words: “My Vṛndāvana!” It had been ten years since my parents visited me here in January of 1982. They weren’t happy with my choice and it was quite a sacrifice for them to come here. Imagine two middle class New Yorkers staying at a guesthouse where there wasn’t even Western style toilets and living in a town that still hadn’t seen purified bottled water yet. I’ll never forget what my mother shared with me when I came to check on her first thing in the morning on the third day of her visit.

“Something terrible happened last night.”

“What is it mom?”

“I’m ashamed to admit it.”

“Mom, what is it?!”

“I can’t say.”

“MOM! WHAT HAPPENED?”

“No, I am ashamed to admit it.”

After her third refusal, I became adamant, “MOM, TELL ME!”

“I woke up in the middle of the night chanting Hare Krishna!”  She paused a second, and in character with a Brooklyn Jewish mother added seriously: “I could have killed myself!”

Despite her reply, her reaction struck me. I immediately thought of a room conversation about the power of Vṛndāvana where Śrīla Prabhupāda, in his very sober and authoritative voice, told one guest: “Even a dog at the end of their life who dies in Vṛndāvana goes back to Godhead. That is the glory of Vṛndāvana-dhāma!”

I was then also inspired to recall Śrīla Prabhupāda’s words from the Nectar of Devotion, which seemed to validate my mother’s experience despite her reaction: “Such transcendental feelings are aroused immediately and without fail after one arrives in Mathurā or Vṛndāvana” and could “actually be felt even by non-devotees.” (NOD, ch. 13, footnote)

Now on to my own entrance into the dhāma this year:

I arrived at midnight in Delhi and practically slept the whole way to Vṛndāvana, only to sit up as we entered its boundary. I have been living here for most of the last forty-two years. Vṛndāvana is my home.  How strange this time to somehow feel a bit of a culture shock. Maybe it was that I just woke up or perhaps I had become conditioned to the comforts of the West, but as soon as I entered my room I felt a powerful welcoming feeling. I immediately started to chant. Usually when I begin chanting it’s the holy name, my soul, and between them the mind to be controlled. But now it felt as it was just my soul and the name with nothing in between. That is the glory of this sacred place.

Day after day here there is confirmation of that glory, especially as I see the visiting pilgrims that I host overwhelmed with their experience of being here, an experience I think they will never forget. This is “my Vṛndāvana”! With strong conviction I affirm that I never want to leave.

This morning a local friend came to visit me. He was glorifying a famous sādhu that lectures in the morning in a nearby sacred forest-like ashram on the parikramā mārg. I heard from a few others who attend his classes how deep and clear this sādhu’s realizations are.  My friend shared his notes with me that he translated into English from Hindi. One statement in particular struck me and put things in perspective:

“We should never leave Vṛndāvana for sense gratification. But if one leaves Vṛndāvana on the order of guru to spread the glories of the holy name and leaves his body there, then that place is non-different than Śrī Vṛndāvana-dhāma.”

So those are my thoughts on entering the holy place. I am here now and come every year only because my sevā brings me here. I love the sādhu’s point that where sevā brings you, here or there, is non-different from Śrī Vṛndāvana-dhāma. But still I am humbled to be here and so happy to serve. And yes, there is no place like Vṛndāvana.

The false ego insidiously lurks in the back of our consciousness attempting to appropriate even our good qualities to enhance its power to control and enjoy. Śrīla Prabhupāda pointed this out in a humorous way: “You’re not the most anything!” he replied when a disciple said to him in a self-effacing way, “I am the most fallen!” C.S. Lewis, a master of wit and insight, made the same point in another way: “Never are we so proud as when we are good.”

I will finish the last five of the fifteen core qualities of humility today with the caution above, that good qualities are cultivated to make us humble, and never to be used or worn counterintuitively as emblems of pride.

11. Adhering to Dharma and Accepting Karma

Karma (destiny) is what happens to us and dharma is the science of reacting appropriately. Both serve the cause of humility.

Destiny loudly announces that we are not the controller. If, in addition to hearing this humbling call, we accept and then experience our karma (destiny) for what it is, Krishna’s mercy, we develop a mood of shelter and dependence. These feelings are the foundations of humility.

Dharma, the proper response to what destiny places before us, means to consciously choose what is right, not just what we like. This type of modest acceptance of an authority higher than our own whims and desires, this mark of character, is practically the definition of humility.

12. Prayerful Reading

There are two ways to read or study śāstra: for power and for transformation. Accruing knowledge to increase our prestige for the purpose of control and material enjoyment is reading for power. In contrast, reading in a prayerful mood means petitioning the truth and authority of śāstra to inspire and expose the folly of our conditioned life. Such prayerful study done for transformation where one opens oneself to correction takes humility and should be done daily to foster modesty and devotion.

13. A Life of Prayer

Prayer both exults the object of our entreaty and expresses our own insufficiency. In doing so it invokes the need to petition for mercy. By its constitution, prayer therefore creates the foundational sentiments of a humble heart. A humble person enters the life of prayer.

14. Meditation

Mantra meditation not only helps us to neglect the impulses of the mind born of the false egoistic self, but also awakens our true self (the soul) in relationship with God. The first budding symptoms of such awakening are devotion, gratitude, and compassion, which are the basic expressions of humility. One who sincerely explores the depth of chanting will surely become a humble soul.

15. Sādhu-saṅga

It takes humility to seek the association of a sādhu, for the true sādhu not only inspires humility by their example, but at times deservingly cuts our pride by their teachings, as Krishna did in his first instruction to Arjuna, even pointing out his foolishness.[1]

Associating and revering a sādhu can also mean entering their world, a world where Krishna, not our own desires, is intensely the center. Such association is also called sadhu-saṅgharṣa, which means “strong friction with a sādhu”, because their instruction and world will certainly conflict with any materialistic perspective we may have.

This is most important. If we want to cultivate humility we should pray and seek sādhu-saṅga, the association of advanced souls.

[1] Bhagavad-gita 2.11

Last week two thunderbolts of realization fell in my lap. I was challenged to rise in my own spiritual commitment to meet them. I realize them as two of life’s greatest challenges.

1. To dissolve the subtle body before we die.

I just read in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam that death usually means only the dissolution of the gross body. However, it can also mean that in addition to the dissolution of the subtle body if one is free of material desires at the time of death then one attains a spiritual identity never to take birth again. I felt Śrīla Prabhupāda’s words deeply. Keeping one’s petty desires only nourishes the subtle body, exacerbates the pain of leaving this world, and keeps one in this world of birth and death. If I don’t dissolve the subtle body by reasonable detachment, I shudder to think of a next birth where one will again suffer the challenges of growing up and the myriad of other countless frustrations and humiliations one must endure simply to satisfy one’s desire to be separate from God. The challenge? Surrender now!

These thoughts hit me hard, especially since the week before I watched the passing of my friend Gunagrahi dasa Goswami. I watched his last days and even his last moments live streamed throughout the world. I also was with him in Vṛndāvana much of the last year. I thus witnessed not only the physical pain of one giving up the material body, but also the pain endured, as the process of dying robs one step by step of everything one has ever cherished, except the holy name. It’s no joke. Sannyāsa actually means “to die while living” by renouncing the superfluous without delay. I pray to take up that challenge.

Śrīla Prabhupāda’s description of dissolving the subtle body struck me as a life and death challenge. If I don’t surrender fully now by detaching myself from that which has no value to devotion, then when will I do it?

2. To be fearless, especially at death, one must be able to draw on one’s relationship to Krishna, for that is all one really has left.

Ghanashyam dasa, a former brahmacārī at the Bhakti Center, is now the Hindu chaplain at New York-Presbyterian Hospital, one of the most prestigious hospitals in America. In his Bhāgavatam class he described his encounters with people dying. He described that although he is trained to comfort them in many ways, which he does, ultimately without being able to go within the heart and draw on one’s relationship with God there is not much for a dying person to hold on to. He stressed how important it is, especially as devotees, to develop that relationship now. He related a story that he heard from a devotee to illustrate that point.

The devotee described how the ocean riptide carried him out in a way that no matter how hard he tried to swim back to shore, the current kept pushing him further and further away. He was sure he would die and thus reached into his heart to call out to Krishna for help, but he was shocked by how little substance his cry held. He realized that he had not really yet developed his relationship with Krishna and his voice reflected that. Shaken, he vowed on the spot that if he was saved he would dedicate the rest of his life to truly develop his relationship with Krishna. His cry at least carried that sincerity. Obviously, he lived to share his realizations.

Ghanashyam’s point struck me. Developing our relationship with Krishna is such serious business. Perfunctory devotional service will just not do. In everything we do we must find and give a heart to it, which means our love and relationship with Krishna. If I can’t find that now, what will I have left to hang on to when everything else is being ripped way? The same point arises again and again in my life in different ways. The time to fully surrender and awaken one’s relationship with Krishna is now, for trust no future however pleasant.[1]

[1] The phrase “Trust no future however pleasant” is from A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.