Waves of Devotion

Today’s question:

If one’s essential nature is fixed, isn’t it unfair that some souls — those whose intrinsic nature resembles the gopīs of Vrindavan — are destined for a higher, more pleasurable eternal existence than others? If so, doesn’t that make God partial, or incapable (or unwilling) of giving everyone unsurpassed fulfillment in their own eternal relationship with Śrī Krishna?

The Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta provides an answer. It is found when Nārada enlightens Gopa-kumāra about Vaikuṇṭha and explains that every rasa with Krishna is unique, with each soul “experiencing uninterrupted, unceasing bliss, newer and newer at every moment.” (Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 2.4.148)

In other words, each soul, in whatever relationship the soul has with Krishna, can attain infinite bliss. Therefore, to say that one relationship with Krishna involves more bliss than another would be making the untenable claim that something that is infinite is greater than another thing that is infinite. In that sense, all relationships with Krishna are equal

Yet Gauḍīya texts deem the love of the gopīs supreme, even greater than what the goddess Lakṣmī can attain. That’s true, for how can Krishna be truly deemed the Supreme Enjoyer unless He is the embodiment of all flavors of devotion with their different levels of intimacy?

But then how to reconcile this hierarchy of tastes, which appears to be limiting the extension of Krishna’s mercy to all souls?

I think Śrī Nārada’s statement at the beginning of this post already helped reconcile these two apparently opposing conceptions. He adds more in later texts. He explains not only do all perfect devotees feel ever-expanding bliss in their rasa with Krishna, but that their respective experiences of bliss are so overwhelming that they each believe their bliss is greater than that of others. He then comes to a beautiful resolution, “This creates a hierarchy of tastes, but within it a simultaneous equality.” (Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 2.4.154)

In other words, whatever relationship a pure soul has with Krishna, that soul feels no itch for what might be “missed” — the soul’s fulfillment is measured only within each soul’s relational category, not on some shared external scale ranking the rasas.

Let me finish this Philosopher’s Corner by shedding light on the inquiry into how a hierarchy can manifest while simultaneously containing equality, by the pramāṇa (evidence) of upamāna (analogy). I will give two analogies:

Analogy one

An outsider might rank groups of people with assorted passions across different fields — those healing the sick, composing great music, crafting fine furniture, or raising a beautiful family. But each, regardless of status, nonetheless experiences complete fulfillment doing exactly what feels most deeply natural. They are all simply manifesting what they “are.”

Similarly, although a hierarchy of rasas may exist externally, in each relationship with Krishna the soul experiences that same complete fulfillment — doing exactly what it most deeply is.

Analogy two

A mother’s love for her child isn’t an inferior, smaller version of a lover’s love — it’s a different completeness, total on its own terms. So too every rasa with Krishna is complete and perfect on its own terms, each an unlimited expression of His hlādinī-śakti.

So is it unfair that certain souls are destined for a higher, more pleasurable eternal existence? The Philosopher’s Corner will end with one final, concise statement from Śrī Nārada on the destination of these different relationships with Krishna. His answer: yes, it is unfair. “For each attained the perfection of their faith.” (Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 2.4.150)

Sometimes we see very senior Vaiṣṇavas — devotees who go back to the roots of ISKCON, with decades of steady service, and sādhana — still struggling in various ways in their twilight years of Krishna consciousness. They sometimes even question their taste for the holy name, or struggle, and temporarily fall. The doubt then naturally arises: “If even such long-standing practitioners have these problems, does the process of bhakti-yoga even work?” This post is dedicated to answering that question.

First, I think it’s worth putting Śrīla Prabhupāda’s līlā in a cosmic perspective.

Sri Caitanya appears once in a day of Lord Brahma, which lasts 8.64 billion years. In terms of Brahma’s time that would be 11:29 AM. Śrīla Prabhupāda then appears less than a second later. And mystically, in that same miniscule cosmic sliver—a few milliseconds later, also within 11:29 AM — a few souls appear to assist Śrīla Prabhupāda

The universe is filled with unlimited conditioned souls, many of them spiritually evolved. So, who were these souls, chosen for Śrīla Prabhupāda’s intimate sanga and service? Was their destiny not uniquely fortunate? Was there not some goodness in them that drew this special honor?

Their destiny was indeed unique. They also serve Śrīla Prabhupāda’s līlā as being the savior of the most fallen — and with their “hippie saṁskāras,” they were certainly eligible to be objects of his mercy.

Whatever drew them, these devotees did something remarkable. They gave themselves to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s mission and served him with their life and soul. They gave their youth, their bodies, their minds, and often sacrificed their very natures to serve at the pleasure of Śrīla Prabhupāda. As a result, now, in old age, for many of them practically little remains but Śrīla Prabhupāda. Weakened by age and carrying saṁskāras from time immemorial, is it any wonder that traces of their “Lower East Side karma” still surfaced?

I know some who cannot sit or walk comfortably to chant, others who can only rise from bed for a few hours a day, and even some whose minds have lost memory or function due to the life they gave so fully in service. Some may swim in rāga-mārga; many struggle just to chant. But what they all share is something special in their hearts: through their sacrifice and service, they earned Śrīla Prabhupāda’s trust. His mercy will never leave them.

I sometimes think of Brahmananda. Śrīla Prabhupāda was hospitalized, and the staff intended a radical treatment he didn’t want. Seeing his critical condition and hearing his pleas to leave, Brahmananda and Gargamuni wheeled him out of the hospital, past the nurses, and brought him to a seaside house in Long Branch, New Jersey, to recover. Śrīla Prabhupāda promised him, “Because you saved me from the hospital, you won’t have to die that way.”

And sure enough — when an ambulance arrived to rush Brahmananda to a modern hospital in Delhi, his body suddenly went limp, and he died. Despite being perhaps a struggling sādhaka, he received the end-of-life dream of the great souls: to leave this world in the holy dhama.

His brother, Gargamuni, reflected on the beautiful spiritual twist to the event: “He saved Śrīla Prabhupāda from the hospital, and Śrīla Prabhupāda saved him.”

Back to our question: “If even such long-standing practitioners have these problems, does the process of bhakti-yoga even work?” Yes. A soul’s biography is, in many ways, shaped by the guru. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s trusted servants are thus being directly guided by him, even when some may be plagued by the old saṁskāras that keep them from being what a classical textbook sādhakas looks like after a life of devotion. Thus, whatever obstacles have come their way have only increased their longing for Krishna and filled their heart with devotion.

In many ways our love for Guru in this world is our love for Krishna. So, like Brahmananda — by giving their youth to Śrīla Prabhupāda, and by keeping him deeply in their hearts, isn’t their destination already secured?

The title comes from an interview someone sent to me from the Easy Bhakti podcast by Chandrashekar Acharya dasa.[1] He was interviewing Yasodeva dasa, a successful preacher at Penn State University in State College, Pennsylvania. In the interview Yasodeva coined the term that I have used for the title of this post.

Yasodeva’s presentation was thoughtful. I liked some of his ideas, but the interview was brief. Perhaps he didn’t have time to fully refine his conceptions. For this week’s Greetings, I will briefly summarize and support his idea and then comment where I am not in agreement, or at least feel the presentation needs to be refined.

Yasodeva started his interview with a radical suggestion: For ISKCON to be successful, it must move the Deities out of the temple and make some practical arrangement elsewhere where the devotees can worship Them and take darśana.

The Deity attracts Indian Hindus, he argued. When the congregation of ISKCON becomes predominantly Indian, it becomes unattractive for Westerners (non-Indians). [2] And even where there is not a predominantly Indian congregation, he continued, the Deities Themselves create a cultural barrier for Westerners, making it difficult for them to consider the community of ISKCON as their home. Better the devotees worship nāma-rūpa, the Lord in the form of his holy name, he concludes, which is more universally accessible. There is no need in the West for big temples.

Disclaimer

Before I continue with my analysis of the podcast, I want to really frame the issue properly. It can too easily be misunderstood as prejudicial against Indians. The Indians joining ISKCON have been a blessing and an asset. Their growth should continue, but that calls for in many places a parallel preaching strategy to ensure that the temple also continues reaching all sections of society in the West to fulfill Śrīla Prabhupāda’s mission. Back to my examination of the podcast.

Where I concur:

Śrī Krishna is all-attractive. Success in preaching should be simple. Just remove the barriers that we self-create that impede people from having that experience of the all-attractive Śrī Krishna. One major barrier would be a minority-based ethnic congregation where others don’t identify or feel they belong.

Therefore, why should ISKCON build or promote Indian temples in the West, and thus de facto advertise us as a Hindu religion, rather than a center of Eastern or spiritual thought?

The first temple I ever visited was on Watseka Avenue in Los Angeles in 1970. Śrīla Prabhupāda was staying there at the time. The temple room was just a podium with church pews. After a lecture and prasādam, we were invited to the room behind the main hall for an arati to the Deities if we wanted to continue our visit.

Yasodeva’s point should be obvious. ISKCON temples in the West are not attracting many Western devotees (non-Indians) to join their temple congregations. And one of the major reasons is that our temple congregations have become predominantly Indian.

I find that being a monk, and presenting myself as such, is an asset in my outreach activities. But when the “lay people” of ISKCON dress that way in outreach events, I don’t find it helpful. It creates a barrier for people coming to Krishna by suggesting that to become a devotee one must undergo a radical external change. That is not our core message.

Where I don’t concur:

My experience of preaching in over fifty years in the West is that neither the Deities nor the culture Śrīla Prabhupāda brought to the West is the problem. The problem emerges when these are used exclusively to target Indians as a “low hanging fruit” for building a congregation and financial base. That can distract an ISKCON center from the more difficult work of attracting Western devotees (non-Indians). Unlike Indians, Western devotees won’t come simply because it is their religion and traditional culture, as it is not.

When I used to visit the Bhakti Center five years ago, the temple was packed to the rafters with Westerners on special occasions for festivals worshipping the Deity. [3] They never saw the Deities as a distraction. The temple was just never employed as its main preaching strategy, as it is in many ISKCON temples. Conversely, they developed many quality outreach programs besides the temple to attract Western people. The temple, however, still served to nourish those wanting to go further in their devotional life. In New York it proved to be an attractive aspect of what we represent, not a barrier. Our connection to India was used thoughtfully, especially in bringing people there, which proved to be a very important element in helping people fully commit to a life of devotion. And it is not the only place in the West where this strategy has proven successful.[4]

I think therefore the real issue in impeding the preaching in the West occurs when those representing Śrīla Prabhupāda lack realization. I am using the term realization in the way Śrīla Prabhupāda has defined it — as the ability to communicate our philosophy and traditions effectively by changing the language (the way people understand things) to suit the frame of reference of the audience, but without losing its original meaning. [5]

In other words, there is not one language for everyone. The realized preachers gear their presentation according to the audience, both how they present the philosophy and the culture in which it is couched. Even in North America, I don’t think you can prescribe one language for everyone. The expert preachers will communicate in a way to get the message across. They will gauge to what extent the use of the Indian culture supports their mission.

I can say from my own experience in New York that aspects of the Indian culture, more accurately Vaiṣṇava culture, that Śrīla Prabhupāda brought, is welcomed by most people, both in attracting them to Krishna consciousness and in helping them cultivate it. But I also respect realized preachers who feel they need to use less or more of it for the audience they are targeting.

I think the greater challenge today for realized preachers is speaking the language of the newest generation, but that is another story.

It is clear, however, that what is not successful for attracting Westerners to Krishna consciousness is projecting ourselves as a Hindu religion. That by no means excludes the thoughtful use of the Vaiṣṇava culture that Śrīla Prabhupāda brought us, especially the Deities.

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKAfMtpQpy8

[2] This doesn’t discount the fact that Indian-based temples are an effective way to bring many qualified Indian devotees to Krishna consciousness who can and do effectively serve Śrī Caitanya’s mission in many key ways. As mentioned, it just must be accompanied with effective preaching outposts that can reach the rest of the population.

[3] In their podcast, to prove the point that Indian culture is a barrier to people becoming part of ISKCON, they used the example of the Bhakti Center. They argue that the temple and the Deities have now attracted a prominently Indian congregation and thus the formerly burgeoning Western community there has significantly declined. I have been away from the Bhakti Center for many years, but I have some connections there. I therefore question to what extent this is fully accurate. What I do know is that the Deities have never been an obstacle in their preaching, and that whatever decline is there in the Bhakti Center is more due to a leadership crisis than anything else. Many of the key leaders with their families have moved away from New York to places more conducive to raising their families. It seems it has taken time to develop the proper leadership team to replace them and consequently some of the preaching momentum has stalled.

[4] I see several successful programs today that effectively communicate Krishna-consciousness to Western (non-Indian) people by expertly removing the philosophical and cultural barriers that impede people from coming to Krishna consciousness, while at the same time not shying away from the careful use of Vaiṣṇava culture to attract and train people. I am most familiar with Wisdom of the Sages and the Bhagavad-gītā University. I think my audience is familiar with the style and success of Wisdom of the Sages, so let me mention something about the Bhagavad-gītā University, which is taught primarily in the Russian language, but also with groups in German, English, Latvian, Lithuanian, and Italian. So far more than 30,000 people have come through the Bhagavad-gītā University and have been moved by its teachings. Hundreds have become fully committed devotees. Every year they also bring several hundred people from the Bhagavad-gītā University to Vrindavan and train them there in Gauḍīyā Vaiṣṇava philosophy and culture. It’s a great example of introducing others to Krishna consciousness in a way to which others can relate, while still carefully introducing people to the culture Śrīla Prabhupāda brought from India. Here is a video of their most recent outreach. It’s impressive: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zqZ785VzVw

[5] Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 1.3.44

It was Thursday. I didn’t have a clue what I could write about for this Monday. I then saw a clip of fans cheering wildly when their team scored and won a World Cup game. They then broke out in song and danced wildly. They seemed to be so euphoric, but were they?

I then naturally looked at the phenomenon through the eyes of śāstra, and that’s this week’s Greetings. I naturally didn’t glean much support for this world obsession from the śāstra, but let me start with the opposite, something I saw that was positive.

Community

The World Cup creates a strong sense of community around one’s team. Anything that helps one transcend the limited or self-centered concept of “I,” such as a sense of community, gives one a temporary relief from the source of all pain, the false ego. I saw that especially in the shared bliss the fans were experiencing when cheering in victory. Of course, you could look at that from many perspectives that would dispel the idea of such a sense of joy as real happiness, and I will. But at the least there is something uplifting about putting something higher than oneself, whether it is family, community or nation.

Ego

The concept of the body as the self is ultimately a mental conception. One can therefore expand one’s concept of the self to one’s family, community or nation. Therefore, a sports community based on enjoying one’s team’s victory is not about putting something higher than oneself, it is rather trying to serve one’s ego by putting oneself, now extended, above others. Rooting for a sports team is therefore material consciousness.

Bhakti is above material designation

Intensely rooting for the team from one’s birthplace strongly fortifies our material designation in terms of the country we have been born in. Bhakti, however, is defined as transcending, not fortifying, such material designations and developing instead one’s identity as the servant of God[1]. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam therefore criticizes embracing such bodily destinations, going so far as describing one who assumes the body as the self and the land of birth as worshipable as no better than an ass.[2]

Duality

Suffering is when one’s attachments are frustrated. Being a fan of sports is therefore mostly suffering because of the many teams that vie for a championship, only one wins. The rest suffers. But even the joy of winning, like any material pleasure, is filled with duality, because the more you become attached to something, the more you suffer when you lose it. And eventually, like any championship team, you will soon inevitably join the ranks of the defeated.

Exemplars

Voltaire said that which one appreciates in others gradually belongs to one. Therefore, a society advances by promoting the right exemplars for its citizens to admire. How unfortunate when those exemplars become the heroes of sport, who are rarely good role models, rather than spiritual luminaries, who inspire one to elevate one’s consciousness.

Impedes spontaneous devotion

Spontaneous devotion is called rāgānuga-bhakti. Rāga literally translates to “color,” or “hue.” Rāga-bhakti is that that spiritual practice which colors the mind with deep devotion. A passion for sports powerfully colors the heart with attachment to one’s team, instead of God. It’s an impediment to devotion.

Conclusion through the eyes of the śāstra

World Cup fever has absolutely no value for the serious practitioners of bhakti.[3]

[1] Caitanya-caritāmṛta Madhya-līlā 19.170

[2] Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.84.13

[3] I played Division I sports in university. I therefore personally recognize the value of sports for young people in channeling their passions into something relatively healthy while learning teamwork, sacrifice, and discipline. I am commenting here on its value for serious practitioners of bhakti.