Waves of Devotion

In my progressive study and teaching of śāstra, I am finishing up Rāmānanda-saṁvāda, the discussion between Śrī Rāmānanda Rāya and Śrī Caitanya—some very high stuff. In fact, after their discussion is concluded, Śrī Caitanya tells Rāmānanda Rāya to keep their discussion secret and to not talk about it anywhere.[1] And here I am talking about those discussions. What audacity! Yes, these teachings are very esoteric, but I think within the limits of my realization I can still extract something of relevance about the essence of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism[2] for us practitioners to appreciate.

First, I’ll share the first of the four verses that I feel helps express the essence of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, a verse that Śrī Caitanya deemed the limit of perfection.[3] I will then briefly comment on the others. Read the verse below carefully, but just enough to get the gist of what is being talked about. Its full understanding comes only by the depth of our realization and not just the power of our intellect.

“O my Lord, You live in the forest of Govardhan Hill, and, like the king of elephants, You are expert in the art of conjugal love. O master of the universe, your heart and Śrīmatī Radharani’s heart are just like shellac and are now melted in spiritual perspiration. Therefore no one can no longer distinguish between you and Radharani. Now you have mixed your newly invoked affection, which is like vermillion, with your melted hearts, and for the benefit of the whole world You have painted both Your hearts red within this great palace of the universe.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.195)

According to Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, the ultimate reality is comprised of śaktimān, the possessor of energy (Śrī Krishna), and śakti, the energy of Krishna (Śrī Radha). The function of energy or śakti is to serve or please its source. As love is the essence of all pleasure, Śrī Radha, the complete energy or śakti of the Lord, is also the full manifestation of love. The height of that love is described here in this verse as the mutual absorption of Śrī Radha and Śrī Krishna intensified to the point where Their hearts melt in devotion, and They become totally lost in Their mutual love. The takeaway I get from this verse is that as the height of devotion is the complete absorption in Śrī Krishna, to achieve that goal we must practice absorbing ourselves in devotion by reserving a time of the day where we can fully concentrate our minds on Krishna to the best of our ability over a prolonged period of time, without interruption, and in a loving mood. And we should, year by year, gradually increase our commitment to our sadhana to move towards the attainment of our goal.

“Lord Śrī Krishna is the reservoir of all pleasure, and Śrīmatī Radharani is the personification of ecstatic love of Godhead. These two forms had combined as one in Śrī Caitanya Mahaprabhu. This being the case, Lord Śrī Caitanya revealed His real form to Rāmānanda Rāya.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.282)

Śrī Caitanya then reveals to Rāmānanda Rāya that He is Śrī Krishna and Śrī Radha merged in the ecstasy of love, and thus the manifestation of the verse that Rāmānanda Rāya recited is the limit of perfection. The verse above (8.282) is therefore significant to Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism for it visibly demonstrates the exalted position of Śrī Caitanya and thus provides an inspiration for His worship for those wanting to attain the highest devotion.

“Śrī Caitanya Mahaprabhu confirmed, ‘All the truths about my pastimes and mellows (mora tattva rasa līlā) are within your knowledge. Therefore I have showed this form to you.’” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.286)

A basic principle in any spiritual path is that we advance by following those who are further on the path than us, and especially those who have attained perfection. In this verse, Śrī Caitanya specifically describes why Rāmānanda Rāya is worthy of such emulation. He had the proper understanding of all the truths (tattvas) of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism as demonstrated in his erudite exchange with Śrī Caitanya. I think the relevant point for us here is that to advance to the next step in Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, we always need further education in the tattvas (subjects) that are suitable for that next level in our attainment, which is why the tradition of Caitanya has a hierarchy of teachings with accordant books and a requisite qualification to study them. By no means does this mean one has to be a scholar. One just needs to faithfully hear the teachings appropriate to our level of advancement from a qualified devotee to properly understand the subject and to get our doubts cleared. If we don’t, we will inevitably filter what we hear through our misconceptions and misapply the teachings of Krishna consciousness.

“I have now converted My body and mind into the ecstasy of Śrīmatī Radharani; thus I am tasting My own personal sweetness in that form.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.288)

Here Śrī Caitanya gives another verse that explains, from a slightly different angle, His position as the merging of the hearts of Śrī Radha and Krishna. The internal cause of Śrī Krishna appearing as Śrī Caitanya was to relish three experiences exclusive to His devotees: to enjoy His own beauty from the perspective of His devotee, to feel the love that the devotee experiences in relationship to Him, and to relish the happiness a devotee feels when he experiences Krishna’s love. In this verse, Krishna in the form of Śrī Caitanya explains how He attains that experience. He assumes the luster (body) and mind (devotion) of Śrī Radha so within the form of Śrī Caitanya He can experience the fullest love of His devotee and fulfill the internal reason for His descent as described above.

Reading this I had a thought that inspired me: “Isn’t Krishna tasting of His own personal sweetness in the form of Śrī Caitanya the same experience that He is giving to the world?” Śrī Rūpa Gosvāmī certainly seems to confirm this. In his drama Vidagdha-mādhava, he describes that what Śrī Caitanya is bestowing (samarpayitum) to the world by His causeless mercy (karuṇayā), which is the most elevated mellow of devotion service, the mellow of conjugal love (unnatojjvala-rasāṁ), is in fact the treasure of His own experience of devotion (sva-bhakti-śriyam).[4]

I have really enjoyed this study of Rāmānanda-saṁvāda. In summary, here is my takeaway from these four verses in Rāmānanda-saṁvāda that struck me as the essence of His teachings:

The same highest devotion, which is the love of Śrī Śrī Radha Krishna and personified in Śrī Caitanya, has been given by Śrī Caitanya to the world and can be attained by the concentrated practice of devotion guided by the study and application of the spiritual truths taught by Śrī Caitanya as found in the Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta.

[1] The Lord then requested Rāmānanda Rāya: “Keep all these talks secret. Please do not expose them anywhere and everywhere. Since my activities appear to be like those of a madman, people may take them light and laugh.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.290)

[2] Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism means Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism. I used the term Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism because not all readers may understand what the more insider term Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism refers to.

[3] Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.196

[4] anarpita-carīṁ cirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau
samarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam
hariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ
sadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ śacī-nandanaḥ

“May that Lord who is known as the son of Śrīmatī Śacīdevī be transcendentally situated in the innermost core of your heart. Resplendent with the radiance of molten gold, He has descended in the Age of Kali by His causeless mercy to bestow what no incarnation has ever offered before: the most elevated mellow of devotional service, the mellow of conjugal love.” (Cc. Adi-līlā 1.4 from Vidagdha-mādhava by Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī)

There used to be a framed photograph on the wall on the temple side of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s house just to the right of his bed that I always found intriguing. It was an arranged portrait of Śrīla Prabhupāda standing in front of the Krishna-Balarama Mandir with most of his sannyāsis, a couple of dozen or more at the time. I seem to remember the picture had been there during Śrīla Prabhupāda’s time.[1] One day in the early eighties I walked into his room, and it was gone. I was a bit disturbed. Who has the right to take down a picture that was there during the life of Śrīla Prabhupāda? Then I realized why. If you study that picture carefully almost every one of those sannyāsis couldn’t maintain their vows of celibacy and left. Perhaps it was taken down out of personal embarrassment by one of those fallen sannyāsis who was still around, or maybe a loyal disciple just felt it didn’t look good for Śrīla Prabhupāda’s legacy. Even Śrīla Prabhupāda admitted that his experiment of giving young men sannyāsa did not fare well.

“My godbrothers criticized me for many things, but one thing they were right about, that I gave young men sannyāsa.” He then described in terms of a Bengali proverb his dilemma of needing to establish the sannyāsa āśrama but having a paucity of candidates who were qualified: “But what could I do? When there are no trees in the forest, the castor oil tree looks big.”[2]

Śrīla Prabhupāda needed to form an institution to carry out his mission and to maintain his legacy, which required a hierarchical corporate structure. For managing and guiding ISKCON he formed a governing body commission, more well-known by its acronym “GBC”. In order to help inspire the preaching mission and to maintain the spiritual standards of his society, following in the footsteps of his own guru maharaja, he also gave sannyāsa to his leading preachers, an order in society meant to serve as the spiritual authority of all other āśramas. And as he started his mission at the age of seventy, there was also an intense urgency in everything he did, including creating the organizational structure of his mission. What choice did he have but to appoint young and inexperienced men as its leaders?

But the more pressing question is about the present necessity of maintaining a sannyāsa āśrama, especially as its integrity seems more under question than ever before. Still, cases seem to arise almost yearly of a sannyāsi either not being able to follow his vows of celibacy or setting an inappropriate example of renunciation. When leaders falter, the discussions of a spiritual society tend to veer from the beauty of God to the people who misrepresent Him, and what follows is a significant social disturbance as predicted.[3] It is no wonder that the legitimacy of an āśrama of committed life-long celibates in today’s world is questioned.

Besides these obvious challenges to the viability of maintaining the purity of the sannyāsa order, and the devastating result when one of its members falters, there is another doubt that arises about its relevance today. The influence of the sannyāsa āśrama is predicated on the fact that the society it serves understands and respects its role. When Śrīla Prabhupāda was here that was not a problem. The Hare Krishna movement was directly under the jurisdiction of ISKCON through its local centers, so the order of sannyāsa was within a society where people were trained to honor it. In contrast today, the Hare Krishna community, at least in the first world,[4] is increasingly outside the jurisdiction of the temples, where sannyāsa, in and of itself, has little societal relevance or influence.[5] And as the devotee community and the greater community for outreach is composed mostly of people, who by their culture, practice little restraint in the social interaction between men and women, and a majority in fact seem to be women, one must question if a spiritually advanced married person[6] is better suited for the service of preaching and intimately guiding those people.

Kripamoya das, in his book The Guru and Disciple Book,[7] coined the phrase “saffron cardinals” to invoke some discussion concerning sannyāsis in ISKCON taking up the position of guru. It is not difficult to see why. As sannyāsis were the natural leaders of ISKCON during the time of Śrīla Prabhupāda, they naturally also took up the leading roles in managing his society, and when Śrīla Prabhupāda left the world, they also took up the service of initiating disciples. With those responsibilities naturally came a substantial number of followers and resources, which makes it challenging to lead a renounced life. Although it is understandable that when a sannyāsi assumes that level of responsibility he needs more material facility than a traditional sannyāsi, he still runs the risk of living more like a Prince of the Church,[8] than a simple monk who inspires renunciation. And that’s where the problem lies.

In varṇāśrama, the recommended social structure of India described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, the purpose of the sannyāsa āśrama was to inspire the populace in the direction of a simple and spiritual life by the power of their example as renunciates. If they fail to set that example, however, the spiritual growth of society will be stunted. Even worse, anyone who veers from their duty, and especially a sannyāsi, will impede their own spiritual development. Although a man who enters household life has allowance to enjoy material facility, he also had the austerity of a wife and family to become purified, but if a sannyāsi lives excessively, then what means do they have to be further cleansed of attachments?

My post here is not a definitive thesis of this subject. It is just meant as a part of the discussion of an obvious problem[9]—the serious disturbance in society suffered when those with the responsibility of setting the example of renunciation either falter or set a bad example. Because of the limited scope of my weekly posts, certain points must be briefly clarified about sannyāsa before I end this particular post.

I am not discounting that, whether renunciation is adopted in a formal manner or not, there is an obvious time in life where one needs to become completely detached from family life. My article also doesn’t discount that despite the risk of taking sannyāsa, it affords one a great facility to dedicate oneself to God unencumbered by social and economic restraints. I am also not minimizing the very substantial things accomplished in Śrīla Prabhupāda’s mission by those who have made a commitment to the renounced order of life, even the ones who have later faltered in their vows. Likewise, I can’t help but honor the honest renunciates who, at tremendous sacrifice, continue to push on in the mission of Śrī Caitanya today, even if some by dint of their service, nature, health, or age they may require a little more facility than is traditionally prescribed.[10] Finally, it is my opinion that those souls who are exemplars of a simple and renounced life are still a much-needed inspiration in society.

I was inspired by remembrance of a picture in Śrīla Prabhupāda’s room with his sannyāsa disciples to write something on the status of the sannyāsa āśrama today, especially as it is an issue that seems to be on people’s minds. I have far from exhausted the discussion on this subject. I have shared my thoughts, and I welcome yours.[11]

[1] I really can’t exactly remember the time frame of when I saw the picture. To the best of my memory, it was there during the time of Śrīla Prabhupāda, especially since they try to preserve the room as it was during his presence, and people don’t add pictures whimsically or take them down.

[2] https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/Castor_tree_and_oil

[3] śruti-smṛti-purāṇādi-
pañcarātra-vidhiṁ vinā
aikāntikī harer bhaktir
utpātāyaiva kalpate

“Devotional service of the Lord that ignores the authorized Vedic literatures like the Upaniṣads, Puranas and Nārada-pañcarātra is simply an unnecessary disturbance in society.” (Brs. 1.2.101, from Brahma-yāmala)

[4] I am well aware that I am writing mostly from my experience preaching in North America and that the relevance of sannyāsa in the today’s world may vary from country to country, or even from institution to institution.

[5] When we grew up in ISKCON we understood the traditional system to be that at age fifty a person takes sannyāsa. I think that is very much a thing of the past. I think many mature devotees have analyzed the situation for themselves and no longer see the benefit in terms of their practice of Krishna consciousness and their service as preachers to take sannyāsa, even if they are qualified in terms of renunciation, and that includes even some older and renounced brahmacārīs (celibate students).

[6] Older married couples can also be in the vānaprastha āśrama where they preach together but detached from family life. Another reason why staying married rather than taking sannyāsa may be preferred for the preacher is that people outside can identify more with people who are in a similar āśrama to themselves, and often the woman is a powerful preacher herself.

[7] https://www.amazon.com/Guru-Disciple-Book-Kripamoya-Das-ebook/dp/B08G9ZZ114/

[8] “Cardinals in the Catholic Church” also are referred to as “Prince of the Church” because of their almost royal status. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_of_the_Church

[9] In all fairness this has been an ongoing discussion in ISKCON, and sannyāsis are now carefully vetted, and especially young men are not given sannyāsa.

[10]I can’t locate the particular verse and purport as of this writing, but I had read a long time ago in one of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s purports where he comments that we can’t be sannyāsis like days of yore, but we should avoid social intercourse. I took it to mean we can’t perform the rigid austerities of the days of yore, but we must be vigilant to remain aloof in ordinary mundane social dealings. I can’t find that verse now. I think the bottom line now, however, and I am thinking for myself as I am writing this, that those who are sannyāsis need to be more vigilant and set a better example.

[11] I welcome hearing your thoughts on the matter if you have anything that can add to the discussion. You can write me here.

Goal![1] was one of my favorite movies. I must have seen it in the late 60s when I was co-captain of my university soccer team, and our coach organized a showing for us. I was enthralled. It was the story of the 1966 World Cup where England beat Germany in the final. Yes, young men love to hear about sports and war. It is now fourteen World Cups later, and there is another World Cup going on. I never really thought about this topic before through the eyes of śāstra, but when I came to understand that another World Cup was on, due to my past I did give team sports tattva[2] some thought, at least enough for it to become my inspiration for writing this week.

The first thing that came to mind on the subject was a story involving Śrīla Prabhupāda. In 1975 Śrīla Prabhupāda suggested a team sport called kabaddi for the children in the gurukula and explained how it was played. I was there. The beauty of kabaddi[3] is that it is so simple that you don’t need any equipment to play it. I don’t have time to go into all its rules, but a person can attack the other side as long as he can repeat over and over again the word kabaddi until his breath runs out. Śrīla Prabhupāda just spiritualized the game by changing the word kabaddi to Krishna, but I think even within itself there is something of value in team sports, especially for young boys today when there is an ever-increasing number of accessible and unhealthy excitements widely propagated as an alternative to capture and degrade their minds.

From my personal experience, if guided properly, one can learn important life skills from team sports like discipline, resilience, courage, patience, and the subordination of short-term comfort for long-term success. It also gives young people a somewhat low stakes chance in a relatively safe environment to confront and overcome the fear and apprehension of failure, a needed skill to help one successfully negotiate the higher stakes challenges of the world as one grows up. It can also teach one to integrate and subordinate one’s individual identity into a larger whole, which is sort of low-level spiritual, and if the coach is of the right character, teach respect for proper authority, an important attitude for learning and self-development that seems marginalized in the modern world.

Of course, I am also not blind to the fact that sports are not a spiritual activity and that there are many things about it that can be detrimental to one’s spiritual growth, or that there are many other perhaps healthier passions that a youth can absorb themselves in. It is certainly not an activity for serious sādhakas, but something best left to boys who need it to channel their testosterone properly away from destructive urges. Looking back on playing sports, what I remember most, despite the quasi-spiritual aspect of having to forge with others for a common interest, are those feelings of total self-absorption and pride during the game as I pranced around the field in my uniform and the absurd ritual after an important victory of joining with teammates pointing our index fingers to the sky yelling again and again, “We’re number one, we’re number one!”

That’s my take on participation, but what about being just a fan? The main and serious spiritual detriment of becoming a sports fan is the way we strongly latch on to a desired outcome and then surf the waves of elation and anger/frustration based on the outcome, which is pretty much what it means to be attached to the fruits—the foundation of karma and bondage. It is just hard to be a serious sādhaka and a loyal sports fan at the same time. They seem to pull the consciousness in opposite directions.

Today I turned on some clips of the World Cup just to watch the fans. Even I was shocked by the level of intense emotion. Watching, I realized how much this transient goal of winning—that only one country will achieve—has actually become the spectator’s goal of life. With so much at stake, no wonder that the fans of a team in unison contort their faces in tears, anger, elation, and disappointment as they drop their heads in despair or raise their hands in jubilation seemingly with every pass. Then I had a fantasy: What if the world developed love of God in place of love of team and country and the people were joined together there for the congregational chanting of the holy name in glorification of God, rather than a silly game? I would still be watching the same congregational scene, with the same exact feelings, but instead the emotions I witnessed would be components of rasa, heightened devotion, and instead of fleeting joy, and mostly the agony of defeat, the result would be the eternal joy of devotion. All that would need to be changed is the goal!

[1] https://www.fifa.com/fifaplus/en/watch/N8ia1vxVfJYyzgqX3anRT

[2] Tattva means the thorough body of knowledge and analysis of subject. It is usually used for spiritual subjects like guru-tattva, dhama-tattva (the science or study of a holy place), nāma-tattva, and so on. I have used it in a unique and creative way to announce that I would try to thoroughly analyze team sports.

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabaddi

From the title one may assume what follows may be sectarian. The faith I belong to, however, is anything but sectarian. Its core teaching is that true religion is not a particular faith, but the nature of the soul to love God. The gradation of religion is therefore not so much between one faith and another, but within the different levels of practice within paths of faith themselves. This type of gradation within my own tradition, Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism, is clearly delineated in the discussion between Lord Caitanya and Śrī Rāmānanda Rāya, a discussion initiated by Lord Caitanya’s simple request:

“Recite a verse from the revealed scriptures concerning the ultimate goal of life.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.57)

In response, Rāmānanda Rāya cites verse after verse highlighting deeper and deeper levels of devotion but ultimately fails to satisfy Śrī Caitanya’s specific inquiry concerning an expression of the ultimate goal of life until the end of almost twenty-five verses. To discuss them all here is far beyond the scope of what I do weekly, but I will discuss the first few verses Rāmānanda Rāya suggests as a template for the principle of how to gradate religious practices and then broadly summarize the rest of the verses to further elucidate this same principle. Ramananda’s initial response from the Viṣṇu Purāṇa (3.8.9):

“The Supreme Personality of Godhead, Lord Viṣṇu, is worshipped by the proper execution of prescribed duties in the system of varna and asrama. There is no other way to satisfy the Supreme Personality of Godhead.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.58)

What it declaratively says here is that there are laws of God that dictate how we behave socially and occupationally and to adhere to them is pleasing to Viṣṇu, or God. Let me suggest an exercise to help one understand the crux of what is being said here. Just think of a modern-day political leader that you detest—it seems everyone has one—and visualize what it would be like if they came to the point where they began to execute their occupational and social duties according to dharmic principles. Śāstra here states that it would be wonderful, and that for people in general there is no other way to satisfy the Lord: nānyat tat-toṣa-kāraṇam.

Śrī Caitanya’s response to Rāmānanda Rāya’s initial response here about varṇāśrama is thought provoking. He responds, “This is external. You had better tell me of some other means.[1] External? How can a practice that is so pleasing to the Lord be external? The soul is consciousness that reaches fruition in service. Although doing one’s prescribed duties is pleasing to the Lord, such duties are impelled by the bodily concept of life and involve one’s material conditioning, which is certainly external to the essence of the real self. In other words, although it may be essential for a conditioned soul to purify oneself of material consciousness by their prescribed duties, the impetus to be engaged in one’s duty has elements that are external to our essence and are therefore not the ultimate goal of life.

The next verse offered by Rāmānanda Rāya suggests a more elevated practice, not only doing one’s duty, but consciously offering all the results of one’s activities to God.[2] Again, Śrī Caitanya rejects what Rāmānanda Rāya suggests as external for the same reason. Although offering the results of one’s activities to God is certainly wonderful, the activity we are offering is impelled by and mixed with the bodily concept of life, which is external to the pure consciousness of the soul.

Seeing that any verse dealing with prescribed duties will be rejected, Rāmānanda Rāya therefore offers a verse promoting karma-sannyāsa, the renunciation of all one’s duties. However, to practice karma-sannyāsa, to detach oneself from work, one must deliberate on that which one is to renounce. From the viewpoint of the nature of the soul, therefore, which is dedication and not renunciation, karma-sannyāsa is still a practice that is external to our essence and thus not an expression of the ultimate goal of life.

In this way, Śrī Caitanya rejects verse after verse until Rāmānanda Rāya offers a verse instructing one to give up the endeavor to analyze the world for the purpose of renouncing it, but to exclusively focus on dedicating oneself to God by sitting at the feet of a pure devotee and hearing about the Lord and His pastimes while being properly situated in one’s material position.[3] Although such devotional service is the pure expression of the soul and Śrī Caitanya finally expresses His approval—eho haya (that is OK)—He still asks Rāmānanda Rāya to say something more, for as long as one worships the Supreme in majesty, even in a pure manner, three things—one’s sense of obligation to a superior, the fear of not following the etiquette in doing so, and one’s sense of reverential distance from the Lord—technically temper one’s intensity of devotion.[4] Only when Rāmānanda Rāya finally quotes a verse on fraternal devotion where one can, as an equal in their relationship to the Lord, spontaneously serve the Lord without obligation and free from apprehension does Śrī Caitanya view the verse as excellent (eho uttama). Śrī Caitanya, however, still requests something more, for even when devotion rises to the level of spontaneous devotion, such as in fraternal or paternal love, the limit of devotion has not been attained.

As this post has already gone beyond what I consider desirable for my writing genre of a weekly post, I will quickly summarize the rest. As Śrī Caitanya requests an expression of an even higher level of devotion, Rāmānanda Rāya cites verses expressing the super-excellent love of the gopīs and then verses describing the even more intense devotion of the topmost gopī, Śrī Radha. Śrī Caitanya is eventually fully satisfied when a verse is cited describing the height of that devotion itself where the union between Radha and Krishna intensifies to such a level that Their hearts melt in devotion and They become so lost in thoughts of anything but Their beloved, that They even lose a sense of who They are.[5] This, Śrī Caitanya blissfully accedes, is the limit of the goal of human life (sādhya-vastura avadhi).[6]

I should mention here that these topics of Radha and Krishna in union are so elevated that at one point in the discussion even Śrī Caitanya lovingly puts His hands over the mouth of Rāmānanda Rāya as if to say these things should not be put into the air. I have thus only cursorily described them. But there is an important basic principle that we can glean from a summary of these verses that establishes a gradation between various devotional practices that has a practical application in our lives. Elevation in spiritual life is based on the degree of our absorption in the divine and therefore our focus should be how to increase our immersion in thoughts of Krishna and how to simultaneously reduce our occupation and absorption in those things that are external to the nature of the soul, which is to serve God. And even more importantly, especially for those of us who have spent years practicing devotional service, we must ardently pray to understand our personal relationship with Krishna, for as this discussion demonstrates as much as anything else, absorption in Śrī Krishna naturally increases to the degree one has developed a natural loving relationship with Him.

[1] Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.59

[2] “My dear son of Kunti, whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer in sacrifice, whatever you give in charity, and whatever austerities you perform, all the results of such activities should be offered to me, Krsna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead.” (Bg. 9.27 quoted in Cc. Madhya-līlā 6.60)

[3] “Lord Brahma said, ‘My dear Lord, those devotees who have thrown away the impersonal conception of the Absolute Truth and have therefore abandoned discussing empiric truth should hear from self-realized devotees about your holy name, form, qualities and pastimes…” (Bhag. 10.14.3 as quoted in Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.67)

[4] Although there is technically a gradation of relationships with Krishna, they are all at the same time perfect. After a long purport where Śrīla Prabhupada describes the gradation of relationships with Krishna, he concludes, “However, these are all spiritually situated on the same platform because all these relationships of perfection in love are based on a central point—Krsna.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.83, Purport)

[5] Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.195

[6] Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.196