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Archive for the 'Monday Morning Greetings' Category

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.

 

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?

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #17 – Deep Faith, Deep Space, Deep Time, Deep Work, Deep Taste

April 24th, 2023

Deep Faith, Deep Space, Deep Time, Deep Work, Deep Taste[1]

Since Covid, I have shifted more internally in my devotional life. What else is there to do when you are stuck in New Jersey for almost two years? As I am approaching 73, it is also age appropriate to move somewhat more in that direction. I decided to share my realizations in an informal online japa and prayer school. Isn’t that what a teacher of Krishna consciousness is supposed to do, or one of their main duties? Anyway, let me share with you what I think my outline for the course will be.

 

Deep Faith

 

No one willingly puts effort into any activity without faith, which arises from the experience and understanding of the worth of our objective or goal. Therefore, if our chanting is lax, likely so is our faith. The first part of japa reform is therefore nāma-tattva, learning the truth or glories of the holy name. I find that if we chant even a few times select verses on the holy name composed by pure devotees who have strong faith, very slowly hearing each word, absorbing those verses will naturally spark within us the faith of their composer and inspire our chanting.

 

Deep Space

 

Every object has a potency to influence one to use it for its purpose—a bed will invite sleep, an iPhone will invite chatter, and so on. Chanting thus requires a sacred space, an area at least physically free from any competition for one’s attention. For that reason, I have put more focus into my deities and altar. I strictly sit before them while I chant, at least for the first sixteen rounds. My experience is that if I step outside that sacred space, the objects that I use for other purposes, like my computer, for example, will allure my attention. The powerful effect of environment on our consciousness is a science. It is all clearly outlined in the fourteenth chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā.

 

Deep Time

 

As you need a sacred space for chanting, you also need a sacred time for chanting, which means our chanting needs to be regulated as much as possible. Regulation means reserving a certain time for a specific activity that facilitates offering one’s exclusive attention to that activity. When you are not regulated in your chanting, so many obligations and allurements will compete for your time, and they are often more attractive in one’s mind at the time than chanting. The Sanskrit word for worship is upāsana, which literally means “to sit near” (upa: near, āsana: seat). When sitting down, unless there is resolve that this time is only for God, it is never real upāsana—sitting near or absorbing oneself in the holy name.

 

Deep Mercy[2]

 

Bhakti is the path of grace. As the object of our meditation in japa is not just a prop for steadying the mind, but mantra, or God in sound, our success or endeavor on the path of bhakti is not limited to our own abilities, but also enhanced by the grace of God. One way to attract such mercy is to glorify of God and His devotees. A few prayers said meditatively to Śrī Śrī Guru-Gaurāṅga, and the Vaiṣṇavas before chanting is essential in my practice to put myself in the proper mood for chanting and to invoke the mercy I need for success in chanting. I absolutely cannot be a successful meditator on my own power.

 

Deep Work

 

Scientific studies have shown that after some initial effort in an activity, even if we are sincere, our accomplishments tend to plateau unless we push ourselves somewhat beyond what we perceive as our present level of capability. If we want success in japa meditation, we need to be prepared for some tapasya, which simply means to sincerely put in the required work for chanting despite the irrational impulses of the mind and senses that dictate otherwise.

 

Deep Taste

 

Taste in chanting comes from the realization that the holy name is non-different from Śrī Krishna. Such realization comes with practice, which means concentration without interruption, over a period of time, in the right understanding and mood. Whether for just fifteen minutes or four rounds at a time, or completing our vows in one sitting, unless we endeavor to sincerely practice in this manner, there will be no taste in chanting. Unfortunately, without taste we may develop negative feelings for meditation, and our japa will wane or remain mechanical.

 

Spiritual success means to become deeper in our practice and devotion These are some suggestions how.

 


[1] I got the basic idea for this organization of how to worship Krishna from a class by Jaya Jagannath where he divided meditation into “deep space, deep time, and deep work”. I am just expanding upon it.

[2] The commentators on the Yoga-sūtras all describe that the benefit of worshipping Īśvara (God) as the object of meditation is the mercy that God can bestow on the meditator: “Devotion to God, according to Vyāsa, involves a particular type of devotion, bhakti-viśeṣa; simply by the yogī’s longing, God bestows his grace upon the yogī. When this happens, the fruits of samādhi become quickly available. As Rāmānanda Sarasvatī puts it, God turns toward the yogī as a result of such devotion and says, ‘Let this that he desires be his!’” (The Yoga-sūtras of Patañjali, translation and commentary by Edwin F. Bryant, p.82)

 

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