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Archive for June, 2023

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #26 – I Would Only Believe in a God Who Can Dance!

June 26th, 2023

I often tell the story of how my budding conviction that Śrī Krishna was God became reinforced while going to school. In 1971, I was studying philosophy in university, and in one class the definition of God was given: “That being of which no greater can be conceived.” That stuck in my mind. Shortly after, my former roommate, who had joined the Krishna temple in California, returned to campus and gifted me the newly published Krishna Book. I believe Krishna Book was the first time in the western world, which also meant it was the first for the devotees in the Hare Krishna Movement, that the full pastimes of Krishna were being described in English. I immediately started reading it. Somewhere around the second chapter, where Krishna’s immanence and transcendence were being described, I had an epiphany: “Usually, God is described mostly as just all-pervading and all-powerful, but I now can describe a being greater than that—one who is not only omniscient and omnipotent as described here, but one who doesn’t have the defect of impersonality, who, in addition to Their supreme power, experiences perfect love in relationship with parents, friends, and lovers.” Yes, I concluded, Krishna is that being of which no greater can be conceived! I chuckled, for my reasoning also made sense of the great philosopher Nietzsche’s most famous and puzzling statement, “I would only believe in a God who can dance!”

 

This post will be about God who can dance. I will do that through the Kālīya pastime, where Śrī Krishna, who is known as the most excellent of dancers (naṭa-vara), gracefully leaps and twirls on the head of the many hooded serpent. I hope you relish the description of Krishna’s dancing, although no description can do justice to the sweetness and talent of the original guru of all dance, Śrī Krishna. That description is certainly more than charming, but I am describing it for a particular reason. I want to vividly illustrate my theme—that to deny in the Absolute, the most excellent of qualities and talents, like out of this world dancing, is to deny Their supremacy, for a being without such demonstrable talent, is certainly not one of whom no greater can be conceived.

 

To make a long story short:[1]

 

Śrī Krishna had jumped into to the water of the Yamuna to subdue the many headed Kālīya serpent, who was poisoning her waters. He eventually winds up on top of Kālīya, whose broad hoods were situated high above the river. As Kālīya repeatedly tried to bite Krishna using one of his thousand heads, Krishna would dexterously avoid the sting and jump from one broad, stage-like hood to another. As Krishna, who is ādi-guru kalatra—the original guru of all arts, including the supreme maestro of the art of movement—moved in this way, He naturally began to rhythmically bang Kālīya’s hoods with His heels like a Kuchipudi classical dancer, but even far more expertly.[2] The demigods, realizing that Krishna wanted to dance, immediately arrived on the scene with their instruments to accompany Him. First came Indra with his mridanga and then Śrī Nārada with his vina. Soon all the demigods were present offering their enthusiasm and artistic skills to assist in Krishna’s unprecedented serpent dance by carefully observing the extraordinary rhythm of His feet so that they could perfectly accompany Him. The gandharvas, the denizens of the planet of the unparalleled singers, also arrived, and from deep within their hearts they began belting out the glories of Krishna’s dance in the most melodious and sweet voices. Lord Shiva, who brought his drum known as the Damaru, was also there, as were the vidyādharas, the denizens of the planet of the great musicians, bringing flutes, trumpets, and all sorts of percussion instruments to further inspire Krishna’s dancing by a symphony of suras.[3] Only the Apsarās, the best of the heavenly dancers, stood by idly, too embarrassed to demonstrate their own skill in comparison to the extraordinary artistry of the supreme performer. Nonetheless, the whole scene became a festival for the Vrajavāsīs, who were on the shore dancing, cheering wildly, and watching with amazement, while from above the heavenly performers were doing the same.

 

Reflecting back more than fifty years ago to my faith building epiphany, I still say with the same confidence, I would only believe in a God who can dance!

 

 


[1] My description of Śrī Krishna dancing on Kālīya comes mostly from the lecture of Śrīla Radha Govinda Swami on this subject.

[2] In his commentary to Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.16.26, Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura describes that just as a dancer sometimes dances on metal plates to show his expertise, Krishna danced on the hoods of Kālīya. See https://youtu.be/ko5sKNuSLbs?t=82 and https://youtu.be/vGH1a1fs6O8?t=434

[3] Suras means demigods.

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #25 – The Challenge in Living an Ethically Tuned Life: Part II

June 19th, 2023

In last week’s post I discussed the article “Reckoning with Compassion”[1], which highlighted a very important point—that being an ethical person was more than rule following, but also having the practical wisdom that enables one to apply moral principles in new and novel situations.

 

A classic example would be Arjuna’s situation in the Bhagavad-gītā. He was fixed in the important principles of honoring elders, especially one’s family, and being kind to everyone, but was puzzled about how to apply those principles as a warrior when facing his elders, who, in battle, took the side of the enemy that was led by an unscrupulous king threatening to destroy him. Should he drop his weapons and adhere to such universal Vedic principles in that regard, those that we know in Judeo-Christian tradition as the fifth and sixth commandments to honor thy mother and father and thou shall not kill, or is being truly moral something deeper? Śrī Krishna thought so. He thus dissed Arjuna’s so-called compassion as sentimental and spoke the Bhagavad-gītā to hone Arjuna’s rule-based ethical world view in order to convince him that it was a higher principle to fight out of duty and devotion in a just war.

 

One practical example, which is almost a bit humorous, sticks out in my mind. It illustrates how when our moral judgements are reduced to rule following without the required wisdom to make good judgements, it can result in folly or disaster. One common principle of good behavior is cleanliness, especially in the pure ancient Brahminical tradition of India. Before entering a room, a cultured person takes off their shoes so that the dirt on their soles is not carried inside the house. Thirty years ago, it was reported to me by one devotee that a snake slithered into their room. I immediately called the chokidar (guard) to take care of the situation. He arrived at the room and before courageously entering the room with his choki (stick) to kill the snake, he politely removed his boots for the sake of cleanliness. Yes, cleanliness is next to godliness, but not when it can get you killed!

 

I am not minimizing that the foundation of morality is rules of good behavior and that too little affection for them is a detriment to bhakti, but rather just emphasizing how much—as was demonstrated in the inspiration for this post, “Reckoning with Compassion”—too much affection for rules is also a detriment to one’s spiritual development when it stifles the ability to practically apply those rules wisely according to circumstance.

 

Therefore, according to most legitimate spiritual traditions, a person interested in an ethically tuned life must strengthen their moral sense by following how the wise in the past have appropriately applied the tenets of their tradition. Let me end this post with a short discussion on how Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism attempts to create ethically tuned or wise adherents.

 

Like all traditions, Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism seeks to morally and spiritually elevate adherents by the careful study of the śāstra under the guidance of the wise. To understand how the tradition tries to accomplish this, it is helpful to understand the term sambandha-jñāna, which is the term for metaphysical knowledge or the study of the fundamental nature of reality.[2] The literal translation for sambandha-jñāna is “knowledge of relationship”. The best way, therefore, to understand the fundamental nature of reality is to understand the sambandha (relationship) or balance between various truths.[3]

 

For example, there is a truth of renunciation, or non-attachment, and there is a truth of attachment, regulating and satisfying one’s desires. If the truth of renunciation is overly accentuated in relationship to the truth of attachment, then jñāna-sannyasa, renunciation of one’s material duties, is artificially promoted, and the household ashram and the respect for women is devalued. Conversely, if attachment, engaging in one’s material duties, is overly promoted, one will adopt and recommend overly indulgent lifestyles and shun the need for the ultimate renunciation of material life. One who properly studies the śāstra, however, under the guidance of those who are realized, will learn sambandha-jñāna, an understanding of the size or relationship between renunciation and attachment, and will neither artificially inflate the importance of renunciation or live beyond what one needs to keep the body and soul together.

 

It is like that with any of the apparent dualities between different truths found in the tradition. I’ll name a few of those dualities that tend to polarize those who lack sambandha-jñāna: strī-dharmān/independence and empowerment of women, deep spiritual practice/commitment to preaching, strict adherence to tradition/adjustment for preaching, zero tolerance for abuse/api cet su-durācāro,[4] seeing everyone equally/the need for hierarchy.

 

In summary, sambandha-jñāna, the understanding of the relationship or size of one truth to another, is the basis of having a sound understanding of the fundamental basis of reality. If we don’t strengthen our moral sense by learning from the past applications of wise people, we will be cursed to embrace imbalanced conclusions based not on reality, but our material natures. My faith in this regard is strong based on my personal experience. The guidance of those who deeply study and realize śāstra can guide us to a balanced understanding and inoculate us from the kind of superficial understanding of truths that lead to distress as illustrated in “Reckoning with Compassion”.

 


[1] Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #24 – The Challenge in Living an Ethically Tuned Life: Part I

[2] The subject of sambandha-jñāna also includes epistemology.

[3] I got this definition of sambandha-jñāna from Pradyumna das, Śrīla Prabhupāda’s Sanskrit editor. He would occasionally visit me when I stayed in the Bhakti Center, and one day shared with me different ways in which we can understand sambandha-jñāna, and this was one of them.

[4] The phrase api cet su-durācāro is from verse 9.30 in Bhagavad-gītā where Krishna explains that even one who commits the most abominable action is considered saintly if he is generally fixed in devotion, and his sin was accidental. Obviously, that requires a careful balance between that conception, the exalted position of one practicing devotion, and the need to protect a society by laws.

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #24 – The Challenge in Living an Ethically Tuned Life: Part I

June 12th, 2023

A message from Krishna Ksetra Swami:

 

“On another note, I thought you may find this article interesting (maybe food for thought leading to a Monday Morning Greetings).”[1]

 

I did.

 

The article he sent me was called “Reckoning with Compassion”. It was written by Jessica Locke, a follower of prominent Buddhist guru/leader Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche who was credibly accused of sexual and other abuses going back decades. She was devastated but faced a dilemma. She could neither follow her teacher and redefine her personal standards of basic moral behavior, nor deny how the teachings helped her to see the world around her more perceptively and with greater compassion. I found her resolution intriguing. Rather than reject what she received, she validated her positive experiences embracing Buddhism while also critically examining her tradition by questioning what she saw as some of the “unskilled aspects” within its lineage. What I would like to do in this post is just give a short summary of her analysis, which I found astute, as a template for how a tradition is susceptible to the unskilled application of its principles, and then discuss how a spiritual tradition, using the path of bhakti as an example, attempts to keep its teachings from being misapplied.

 

The main point in her article was to philosophically and historically address how her Buddhistic lineage dealt in an unskilled way with the problem of what they call “self-cherishing”: “the tendency most of us have to see the world through a self-other binary that polarizes our experience into ‘us and them’, ‘me vs the world’.”

 

The method taught in her tradition to accomplish this was to uproot what they see as the illusory conception of the self[2] based on this us/them duality by what they call “radical compassion”, a mindset that exclusively focuses on the well-being of others, even enemies and strangers, before their own. In other words, the most powerful way to counteract the illusory conception of the self and one’s consequent tendency towards selfishness and a lack of compassion is to not blame others, but to own the problem by thinking, “This is due to my own self-cherishing, my investment in my own selfhood as intrinsically real.” Sounds good on the surface. A doubt, however, arose in her when observing how some of her colleagues, due to their training in radical compassion, wouldn’t even acknowledge their guru’s faults. That anomaly awakened in her a past discussion she had with a friend who forewarned her of the misapplication of such a philosophy, especially in the modern world.

 

The problem her friend, who was a therapist, saw was that while radical compassion trained one to own the problem and never hold others accountable, the trauma of those who survived sexual violence is often manifest in self-blame, and to overcome that trauma they must acknowledge exactly the opposite and say, “They were wrong. This was not my fault.”[3] In other words, in radical compassion she saw the problem of “spiritual bypassing”, [4] the misapplication of valid spiritual practices to sidestep necessary emotional or psychological development.

 

This post has already far exceeded my desired word count for a Monday Morning Greetings post. I will finish the article in Part II, where I will specifically discuss how the path of bhakti is meant to deal with these issues. I thus finish here today with a template for what will be further discussed by just briefly outlining how spiritual and philosophical traditions couch this issue:

 

The problem: True morality or ethics is not just a list of moral virtues or rules. It’s the skilled application in applying those rules. Without such wisdom, moral rules often lead to folly such as the philosophy of radical compassion, a virtue which within itself is noble, but poisonous when improperly applied.

 

Solution: Legitimate spiritual traditions point to the sages of the past who have already carefully and skillfully negotiated the application of moral rules and thus can guide their adherents in not just knowledge, but practical wisdom. The path of bhakti has a specific recommendation to do this which will be discussed in the next post.

 

Stay tuned for Part II next week.

 


[1] https://aeon.co/essays/medicine-or-poison-when-buddhist-compassion-goes-too-far

[2] My tradition does not see the self as illusory, only its self-identification with the body as illusion.

[3] This doesn’t discount the power of forgiveness, just the harm of artificially and often pathologically assuming self-blame when one is abused.

[4] The author referred to a concept deemed by transpersonal psychologist John Welwood https://www.atpweb.org/jtparchive/trps-16-84-01-063.pdf

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #23 – Is Jagannath the Highest Manifestation of God? II

June 5th, 2023

The form of the Lord worshiped in the temple is called arcā-vigraha, the deity manifestation of God. Each deity manifests or represents a different incarnation. Occasionally the deity represents not only a particular deity incarnation, but also is the form of a particular pastime of that incarnation, such as Sri Nathaji, who is the form of Sri Krishna lifting Govardhan Hill. The deity of Sri Jagannath is particularly unique. It is not only the form of the Lord representing a particular pastime of the Lord, but also a deity who visibly performs that pastime. For the followers of Sri Chaitanya, Sri Jagannath is the deity of Sri Krishna who is returning to Vrindavan in ecstasy after many years in response to the separation of Sri Radha, and who re-enacts that pastime by inspiring His devotees to mount Him on a large chariot and parade Him.

 

Next Saturday is New York Ratha-yātrā. It is amazing that almost forty years ago, when the Hare Krishna movement was still very much considered a new religious movement and a cult, the devotees were able to get permission to parade Lord Jagannath down 5th Avenue, arguably the most important and influential street in the world. How was that possible? What is not possible for Jagannath, literally the Lord of the universe!

 

Jagannatha Ratha-yātrā is a wonderful gathering of Vaiṣṇavas, but for the Vaiṣṇava it is much more than just a social gathering. They follow in the footsteps of Sri Chaitanya, who participated in Ratha-yātrā to relish deep sentiments of devotion. They thus prepare for the festival by hearing about the Lord’s Ratha-yātrā pastime so they can approach the festival in the right understanding and mood.[1] I offer this short explanation every year of the exalted position of Sri Jagannatha among all deity forms of Sri Krishna to especially serve the devotees who may be fortunate, by Srila Prabhupada’s mercy, to attend a Ratha-yātrā festival.

 

Is Jagannatha the Highest Manifestation of God?

January 23, 2017

Jagannatha is the highest form of God. That’s the realization I had today here in Puri. My reasoning goes like this:

 

God is a person. I am starting from this proposition because I assume my readership mostly accepts it. Also, I have already argued this point extensively in Monday Morning Greetings #26.[2] Assuming that God doesn’t have the defect of impersonality, my argument proceeds as follows:

 

The fullest manifestation of any person is not in their position or power, but in their personality, or inner self, as a friend, parent, or lover. For example, we may meet a very powerful person, but if we don’t have a familial relationship with them—if they are a stranger or even a reverential superior—very little of that person’s fullest or most intimate self will be revealed. Position therefore covers personality, or the fullest manifestation of being.

 

The example of a high court judge is often given to demonstrate this. We may have studied the judge’s background or history or even know him as kind or sober, but his full self is not manifest while holding court. It is only manifest when he comes home and his parental, fraternal, or romantic side is not checked by the formality and majesty that judgeship demands.

 

In the same way, God is not fully manifest when He displays His full grandeur as Narayaṇa, or the creator and controller of existence. His personality is only fully visible when He sheds His position of grandeur and appears as Krishna, a beautiful cowherd, so His intimate side is not restrained by the opulence (aiśvarya) and formality of Godhead. Krishna is thus aptly described by Sri Rupa, the great Vaishnava teacher, as akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the personification of the combined bliss of all rasas—in other words, the fullest manifestation or personhood.

 

Certainly, there can be nothing higher than Krishna, but a question still remains. What is the fullest manifestation of Krishna? Here’s where we come to Jagannatha.

 

Krishna, like any person, gives His heart in proportion to the force of one’s love. As the most intense love is mādhurya-rasa, the mellow of conjugal love, Krishna gives Himself most fully to the gopīs. And as Sri Radha stands supreme even amongst the gopīs, Krishna opens His heart most fully to Her.

 

Therefore, the fullest manifestation of Krishna is in response to Radha’s love, specifically the height of that love, the peak of Her separation from Krishna. This is a love so powerful that even Krishna’s body transforms in overwhelming ecstasy, a condition where His eyes become highly dilated and His limbs withdraw into His body, a form known as Jagannatha.[3]

 

And if there is still any doubt that Jagannatha is the fullest manifestation of Krishna, please consider the following:

 

One of the main practices of spontaneous devotional service (rāgānugā-bhakti) is the worship of the form of Krishna corresponding to the love one aspires to attain. Sri Chaitanya was seeking to taste the love of His best devotee, Sri Radha, at the height of Her love. He therefore accepted Jagannatha as His worshipful Lord and spent the last eighteen years of His life in Jagannatha Puri, and even one year when Sri Chaitanya stayed in Sri Rangam for the four months of the rainy season, where the deity of Viṣṇu presides, and there is no Jagannatha temple, He personally carved His own Jagannatha deity to nourish His devotion.

 

Can there be any doubt that Jagannatha is the highest form of God?

 


[1] For those want to go deeper in the subject of Lord Jagannatha I have included an article by Madhavananda das of Gopal Jui Publications. See here: https://archive.org/details/kk-12-the-hidden-identity-of-lord-jagannath-b

[2] See Is God a Person? https://wavesofdevotion.com/2016/06/27/is-god-a-person/

[3] For an elaborate explanation of how Krishna became Jagannatha, see Three Logs of Wood from Gopal Jiu Publications.