->

Archive for May, 2023

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #22 – Should a Vaiṣṇava Dress Like One?

May 29th, 2023

About twenty-five years ago, my personal secretary was working as the chief secretary for a large advertising company on Madison Avenue. I don’t know how she pulled it off, but she arranged for me to visit on the afternoon of dress down Friday [1]. She told me her coworkers were sincerely excited to meet me and, sure enough, when I arrived there was a large computer printout on the wall behind the front desk: “WELCOME HARE KRISHNA”.  I was then escorted from office to office, meeting the writers, graphic designers and marketers who were all welcoming and respectful. By the time I reached the large open space at the end of the corridor outside the Vice President’s office, about thirty people had followed me there. When the Vice President came out of her office, I gave her one of those special, otherworldly rose garlands from Radha Govinda Mandir, something that money can’t buy, even in New York. She practically melted into the floor, and then quite deferentially asked me a question: “Why do you dress that way?”

“It’s a uniform. A uniform has two functions. A person can be identified, and it gives one a particular mood to do a service, just like a policeman. By their uniform they can be identified when their service is required, and it also gives them a martial mood. There are also police officers who can do the exact same job in plainclothes. In other words, although wearing a uniform serves an important function, it is not essential. Similarly, by these robes I can be identified as a Hindu monk. Its simplicity also facilitates a spiritual mood, but the same worship of God can be done in plainclothes.”

This Monday Morning Greetings was sparked by a commentary I was reading in the Tenth Canto of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam about the reason that the land of Vrindavan never erases Krishna’s footprints.

“As the tilaka worn by a devotee signifies ‘I belong to guru and Krishna’ the footprints are worn by Earth in the devotional mood that I belong to Krishna. The earth therefore never erases the imprints of Krishna’s lotus feet.” [2]

Reading about the pride which Earth feels wearing the imprints of Krishna’s feet gave me a deeper understanding of the connection between something external, like a devotee’s dress and bodily markings, and something internal, like imbibing the mood of belonging to Śrī Guru and Śrī Krishna. After reading this, the next morning I started marking my body with tilaka with a new mindfulness, devotion, and pride. Of course, there is a distinction between adorning the body with tilaka and wearing devotional dress, as marking the body with tilaka is a devotional item, where wearing devotional clothes is not. A similar principle is there, however, in that they both can, to one degree or another, foster the devotional identity of “I am a servant of guru and Krishna”, which is the raison d’etre or intention for everything that a devotee does.

 

Of course, I am a monk, where the principle of dressing for identification takes on more of a societal relevance, especially within a devotional community. Also, I lived most of my devotional life in India where the climate and culture give extra relevancy to simple cloth robes. What about devotees who are not monks or priests and live and work in the modern world? Should they dress as Vaiṣṇavas?  

 

Yes, all things being equal, a Vaiṣṇava should dress as one, provided other factors and circumstances remain the same, like they do for me, whose robes suit his occupation and who mostly lives in India where such dress is the tradition of the country and suited to the climate. 

 

“All things being equal” certainly means while doing deity worship. The first aspect of worshiping the deity is bhūta-suddhi, purifying the material identity, so at that time of deity seva one certainly does not want to wear clothes that invoke within one a strong material identification.

 

“All things being equal” generally means while visiting India for pilgrimage, where one has a chance to immerse oneself in an environment and climate that supports a simple and devotional mood of Eastern spirituality.

 

“All things being equal” usually means when one adopts the role of a priest or spiritual leader where even in the West such dress for such people is understood and even revered. 

 

“All things being equal” means anytime one is comfortable or desires to dress in traditional Vaiṣṇava garb, even in a foreign environment, to identify as a devotee and specifically to represent that tradition to others. 

 

I have been discussing here the relative merits of a more traditional garb. A basic principle, however, is that except for the dress required for essential occupational and social interactions, a Vaiṣṇava should dress simply, functionally, and cleanly, and they should avoid excess modern fashion meant to invoke a particular material identity, except in the cases where there is a legitimate psychological need to dress themselves beautifully and reasonably fashionable, which is the case for many women.  

 

The focus of a devotee’s life is to change the subtle body–the way one thinks, wills, and feels–from “I am the enjoyer and controller” to “I am the servant of my Lord.” As what we wear can influence or fortify our internal self-conception, a devotee also gives some thought to how they dress. For me, I like my uniform and my fresh tilak after bath. It invokes in me a mood more akin to my internal aspirations. But the most important thing for a Vaiṣṇava is not what they wear, but how they behave. I thus pray to belong to Krishna from the core of my heart.




[1] I don’t know if it’s a common practice in other places besides New York. But twenty-five years ago, there was still a formal dress code for businesses, even advertising, but on Friday one could dress casually.

[2] I am hundred percent sure of this commentary, but I was able to locate the exact reference.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #21 – ‘Tis a Gift to be Simple, ‘Tis a Gift to be Free

May 22nd, 2023

Did you ever arrive in a new place and discover it was completely different from the image you had in your mind before you arrived? When I first stopped at the Hancock Shaker Village, I was expecting a building or two housing a museum. I found a sprawling fourteen-hundred-acre village replete with twenty buildings that were externally and internally pristinely preserved just as when the Shakers thrived there years before.[1] The Shakers are famous for their efficient and functional crafts, mostly furniture and equally fine crafted and constructed buildings. I was humbled by the simplicity and functionality of what the Shakers created, surprisingly as much as I was moved by the grandeur of the Vatican when I visited Rome thirty years before. Both, in their own way, are awe-inspiring edifices of devotion. I loved the Shaker motto: Hands to work, heart to God. My main inspiration for today’s post was the power of simple life, but first a little something about the Shakers.

 

The Shakers were a Christian, communal, charismatic society of strict celibates born in the late seventeen hundreds that accepted both men and women. To this day they stand as the most successful and long-standing utopian community in United States history. They were famous for their simple life and craftsmanship, their gender equality, and especially their ecstatic singing[2] and dancing during worship. While there, a guide gave us a short lecture and a chance to ask questions. I was intrigued by their celibate lifestyle, especially as both men and women were living in the same community, so I naturally asked the guide if they had any history of scandal in that regard. Her answer was interesting:

 

“People who studied the Shaker history in Hancock over their many years of existence could not find any records of children being born at that time to anyone connected with the Shakers and no report of scandal has ever been reported in the news, so the consensus was that there weren’t scandals of note, if any. It may have something to do with the fact that women had equal footing in their community and a lot of the scandals in religious institutions occur when authority is placed in the hands of a single male spiritual leader with unilateral power. They also had a very strong work ethic that kept everyone in the community engaged.”

 

Her answer gave me food for thought.

 

It is not that the men and women weren’t allowed to converse. They just could not talk alone with each other; but they did share testimony to Christ in small mixed groups. In the paintings of their religious services, you could also see the groups of men and women enthusiastically singing and dancing in proximity but separated by gender. Although their official name was the United Society of Believers in the Second Coming of Christ, it was by their wild dancing after becoming overwhelmed in ecstasy that they got the name “Shakers” by those visiting from the outside. Obviously, the name stuck.

 

I was also intrigued by the proactive way in which they resolved internal conflicts:

 

“There was a team of two men and two women who would travel to the various Shaker communities. A special room was set aside where people could come to air their grievances or for those in conflict to settle their disputes.”

 

I only had time to see a few of their impressive buildings, replete with all the artifacts of their life just as they were when the Shakers lived there, but in my short stay the environment had a powerful effect on me. When things are made with devotion, they represent the spirit of those who create it, and you can feel it. In finely made things, there is also a beauty to their rightness that points to a cosmic order and therefore God. I felt humbled.

 

By nature, I am an alien, not an earthman.[3] You know how there are people who are just so in touch with the land and all that comes with it, such as the animals. That’s what I call earthmen. I am by contrast a city guy who rarely leaves his room and gets bored by country walks. Yes, I am an alien. But, despite my nature, I deeply admire those who live simply and with integrity, especially when the things they use are substantially created by them. Walking around here, I could sense and envision the transforming power of living in such a community. I also felt exposed by my lack of simplicity, at least to the level I think I should be. I am just too wired and conditioned by the ugra-uber-technological society.[4] Sure, I am a preacher and can make so many excuses in the name of yukta-vairāgya,[5] but there is an ideal here that Śrīla Prabhupāda stressed for everyone—simple living and high thinking—and I have fallen too far from the mark. Yes, ‘tis a gift to be simple. It is the message of the Shakers and Śrīla Prabhupāda too.

 

‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free

‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be

And when we find ourselves in the place just right

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight

When true simplicity is gained

To bow and bend we shan’t be ashamed

To turn, turn will be our delight

Turning, turning we come round right

 

– Shaker dance song: Elder Joseph Bracket, Alfred, Maine, 1848[6]

 

 


[1] As the Shakers were a strictly celibate community, they did not birth a next generation and eventually died out, except for two Shakers who still inhabit the Sabbathday Shaker community. https://www.maineshakers.com

[2] The Shakers have a canon of 10,000 original songs that they could choose from for their worship, most very simple expressions of devotion and humility, often repeated again and again like mantras.

[3] I got these designations many years ago from my god-brother and friend, Varsana Swami, who is renowned for his service in New Vrindavan for taking care of the land and communing with nature and the animals there. He observed that certain devotees were not comfortable with rural life, and he called them aliens. Those who are naturally enlivened to be in the countryside and work with the land and animals, he called earthmen. I should mention that this was many years ago, at a time where the male pronouns were used when you wanted to indicate people in general. Earthmen in today’s English would be earth people, referring to people in general.

[4] Ugra literally means ugly or horrible, and Śrīla Prabhupāda especially used the word as an adjective for material civilization.

[5] Yukta-vairāgya means balanced detachment—that a Vaiṣṇava only gives up what he cannot use in God’s service. The concept and term are often abused to justify keeping and using more opulent things that one would normally renounce as a devotee.

[6] Judy Collins singing this Shaker song in the original melody composed Elder Joseph Bracket. The song starts at 49 seconds https://youtu.be/kWTDgc96bg8?t=49

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #20 – Why Pray? How Does It Work? What is Its Power?

May 15th, 2023

These intriguing questions were inspired by my study of the introduction to Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta.[1] This is how I understood the introduction in my own words:

 

Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī had been petitioned by Lord Caitanya to write a book about what He came to give to the world. Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī admits that he has a difficult task at hand—to describe parama-daśāntaṁ[2]—the extreme limit of transcendence, which is the love of the gopīs for Krishna. How can he ascend to the realization needed to ably express a love so great that even Śrī Krishna can’t fathom its limits?[3] As a humble devotee, however, he realizes that with the order of the Lord comes the ability to fulfill it by His mercy. With faith in the power of prayer and seeking to invoke the Lord’s mercy, he begins the task of writing the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta by incessantly glorifying Śrī Krishna, His holy places, prema-bhakti, the holy name, and especially His full and merciful manifestation as Śrī Caitanya. He then confidently begins his narration of Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta inspired by the realizations he has gained by the shelter of Śrī Caitanya, and the inspiration he has realized internally from the Lord in his heart.[4]

 

Here is what I garnered in answer to my questions about the power of prayer and how it works from contemplating the example of Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī:

 

Prayer helps one to become humble

Prayer is a glorification and a petition. The object of one’s prayer is therefore acknowledged as superior. Thus, by its very nature, prayer means willingly embracing the humble position. As actions born of an emotion generally enhance that emotion, becoming prayerful and reciting prayers enhances humility.

 

Prayer gives one a taste for humility

Respect is the form of love that one offers to one in a superior position. As prayer is a manifestation of respect or reverential love, in prayer one naturally tastes love. It also gives one joy in the heart, for love is the highest pleasure. Prayer thus gives one a taste for the humble position.

 

Prayer makes one receptive to mercy and affection

Mercy or affection is the love from one in a superior position to one in a subordinate position.[5] The experience of that mercy or affection, however, is not just what one has been given, but also one’s capability to receive or feel it. For example, the parents may shower a child with gifts out of love, but if the child is spoiled and feels entitled, they will never feel the kindness or mercy of their parents. As prayer is willingly embracing the humble position, prayer allows one to fully feel God’s mercy or affection.

 

Prayer helps one to invoke God’s mercy

As a river flows downward, mercy naturally flows to one who is humble. The Lord wants to help everyone but is naturally inspired to give His mercy to those who are humble and receptive to His mercy. In other words, God doesn’t have the defect of impersonality and naturally responds to those who sincerely express their need for mercy in prayer.

 

Prayer embodies and invokes devotion

The nature of poetry is that rather than just explaining something it makes you feel it. Vaiṣṇava prayer, which is in the form of poetry, embodies the devotional sentiments of the pure devotees who compose them. By reciting them thoughtfully those same emotions are transferred to one’s heart.

 

I am very much moved by the prayers of Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī that invoke the Lord’s mercy and enable him to write his masterpiece Śrī Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta:

 

“All glories to that inconceivable Lord who descended to bestow the gift of perfect love for His own lotus feet. He is an ocean filled with many kinds of sweetness and He always bears the fragrance of fresh youth. In His form of Śrī Caitanya He has realized the last limit of extreme transcendence, the love residing eternally in the gopīs.” (BB 1.1.1)

 

Prayer embodies and invokes devotion

The nature of poetry is that rather than just explaining something it makes you feel it. Vaiṣṇava prayer, which is in the form of poetry, embodies the devotional sentiments of the pure devotees who compose them. By reciting them thoughtfully those same emotions are transferred to one’s heart.

 

 


[1] This post was inspired by the purport of the third verse where a doubt was raised about how one can possibly describe the love of the gopīs mentioned in the first two verses and explains that this third verse describing Śrī Caitanya is an answer to that question. There the correlation between invoking mercy by the power of prayer is described: “Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī wants the mercy of Lord Caitanya and therefore glorifies Him in this verse.”

[2] Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 1.1.1

[3] Bhag. 10.32.22

[4] In Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 1.1.11 he explains which (essence) was realized (anubhūtasya) under the auspices of Lord Caitanya (caitanya-deve). In the purport to this verse, it also mentioned that caitanya-deve also means the Lord of Consciousness, or Krishna’s expansion as the Supersoul.

[5] The love of a parent or superior in rasa theory is called anugrahaḥ or affection.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #19 – Community and Krishna Consciousness

May 8th, 2023

One way of defining love is the natural energy of affection between two persons that have a relationship. When that energy is between a living entity and God, it is called prema, which is universal love and the essence of all happiness or pleasure. A question arises: if God is both a person and advayam jñāna, all pervading consciousness, which nothing rests outside of, then why don’t we feel that pleasure? After all, God’s energy is infinitely powerful, and we are infinitesimal and helpless. Let me state the quandary as a simple paradox begging a resolution: “God’s love everywhere, but not a drop to relish.”[1] I pondered that seeming contradiction for a while, and an original analogy came to my mind to help me resolve it. Just as the sun has unlimited heat, and we can cover ourselves from its effect by a small umbrella, we can cover ourselves from the rays of spiritual pleasure emanating from God by the covering of false ego.

 

Our existential problem in this world is therefore false ego, and the focus in removing it is a common factor on all spiritual paths. For example, the import or theme of the Vedas, the point that connects its apparently varied teachings, is that all its teachings are connected to removing the false ego,[2] which can be defined as the subtle element that fosters the illusion that we are the material body, symptomized by the desire to enjoy, control, and feel superior. Spiritual life therefore begins when you try to realize the world is “not just about me”, which is why Vedic prayers often begin with the word namaḥ, literally meaning “not me”.

 

All institutions that are ideally based on altruistic teachings, such as a proper congregation or community, which is the focus of today’s post, share at their root these ideals of fostering ego-lessness. The transformative dynamic in community that helps one achieve this is that community is a place where one puts a common interest above self-interest, which is especially true in communities on the path of devotion where people join together to support each other in their service to God. Of course, not all institutions purely live up to their ideals, but the foundational transformative dynamic of community is clear.

 

One way to understand the spiritual dynamic of community in bhakti is to understand the concept of saṅkīrtana, where people join to glorify God. Śrī Jīva Gosvāmī deemed saṅkīrtana, community kirtan, better than kirtan, individual chanting, because it gives special feelings of bliss.[3] Just exactly how does that work—that it gives special feelings of bliss? When one is intensely united with others in a shared experience, it creates, in a sense, a shared mind that helps to overcome the limited or selfish sense of “I” that is at the root of the false ego.[4] Being absorbed in community kirtan, where the ego is slackened and the power of the holy name is more easily received and powerfully felt, naturally gives rise to special feelings of bliss, a state more difficult to attain by oneself.

 

Just in general, a saṅga (devotee community) is uplifting, provided the members are mature, at least to the extent that they are enough united towards serving each other that they can leave their separate interests at the door. In the modern world we especially need Vaiṣṇava saṅga because the world has become extremely exploitative, and we need to be always focused on ourselves just to avoid exploitation. A Vaiṣṇava saṅga, in contrast, ideally serves as a place where we can be vulnerable, confident that in terms of our own spiritual needs and happiness we are in a place that serves our needs better than we can do by ourselves. Again, because true saṅga is a welcoming place with shared spiritual experience, it gives us a special facility to open our heart to the chanting and hearing of the Lord’s glories in a way that in a solitary place we usually cannot.

 

How tragic it is when a Vaiṣṇava saṅga is ruined by those who enter with separate interests, and what a blessing it is when we have a saṅga of like-minded devotees fully united in the service of Śrī Śrī Guru and Gauranga. Let us all find our saṅga and congregate with the sole purpose of serving our spiritual community!

 

 


[1] This is a spiritual take on arguably the most famous paradox, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.”

[2] About thirty years ago when Satyanarayana dasa Babaji was the Sanskrit teacher in the Gurukula, he would also teach the Sandarbhas. I remember him quoting a commentary on the following verse from the Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad to support that the import of the Vedas was to remove the false ego: “Only unto those great souls who have implicit faith in both the Lord and the spiritual master are all the imports of the Vedic knowledge automatically revealed.” (Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad 6.23)

[3] This is stated directly in Śrī Jīva Gosvāmī’s Śrī Bhakti-sandarbha

[4] A basic principle of the rasa theory as explained in the Nāṭaka-śāstra is that for the experience of rasa to take place in the audience of a classical drama, the audience must be united in its experience of the rasa being communicated. We see this same principle demonstrated in the kirtans at Śrīvasangam when Śrī Caitanya experience of the kirtan began to wane because someone had joined the kirtan who did not share the mood of the devotees there.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #18 – An Original Argument for God Revisited

May 1st, 2023

It was already Tuesday. I still had nothing to write about. Rather than continue to stare at a blank page, I shifted gears and started taking notes on what I was lecturing on at the time. I was teaching the Śrī Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta by Sanātana Gosvāmī, with translation and commentary by Gopīparāṇadhana Dāsa. In the back of my mind, however, I was still searching and praying for a realization to write about.

 

Gopīparāṇadhana Dāsa lived in Vrindavan at the time I resided there, and we were friends. Therefore, while taking notes today, I naturally remembered the difficulty he was having finding a suitable place to live with his family in Vrindavan when he began writing his translation. He was finally offered a place by a god-brother who had become the mahant of an ashram next to Caklesvara Mahādeva in Govardhana, which is where Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī resided and wrote the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta. What are the chances that the translator of arguably one of the most significant books in his spiritual tradition winds up in the very place where the author wrote the book? An idea suddenly came in mind! For this week’s post I would expand on something I had written before on the phenomenon of synchronicity as an argument for the existence of God.

 

Basically, in that article I argued that when there is an impossibly high improbability of two events coming together, it is far more likely that those events synchronized by forces outside the laws of nature than randomly, which points to the existence of God.

 

As I began meditating on what I was to write, I remembered that my friend was also the person who got me thinking about this argument. Over twenty-five years ago, when I was visiting the Radha Damodara Temple with a pilgrimage group, we unexpectedly ran into him. I naturally asked him to address our group:

 

“The Radha Damodara Temple is in Seva-kuṅjā, the forest (kuṅjā) to expand the intimate service (seva) of Radha and Krishna. In holy places, there is often a synchronicity between the place and what later happens there. For example, the Six Gosvāmīs of Vrindavan had many different residences and temples in Vrindavan, but this is the place, the forest of seva, where they would all meet to discuss their mission to increase the seva of Śrī Śrī Radha Krishna. It was also the place, five hundred years later, where Śrīla Prabhupāda stayed for the same purpose, although he chose to live here mostly because he was in need, and it was available. We can also see this same phenomenon when Śrīla Bhaktivinoda retired to the island of Godrumadvīpa to revive the Nāma-haṭṭa, his organization to spread the holy name to every own and village. It just so happened to be the same island in Śrī Navadvīpa that specifically represents and inspires kirtan and, where hundreds of years before, Śrī Nityānanda originally started the Nāma-haṭṭa.”

 

There are many arguments for the existence of God, but I think the phenomenon of synchronicity is particularly strong and can be developed in many ways. Most importantly, it can be a faith builder, especially when we become just a little mindful and repeatedly observe how what has come to us by destiny was mystically synchronized with the exact lessons needed at the time in order to help us come closer to God.

 

Think deeply. Is there anyone reading this who has not had that experience? And can there be any other answer than God?