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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)

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #16 – A View from the Eye of a Tornado Through the Eyes of the Śāstra

April 17th, 2023

It was April 1st, but don’t let the date fool you. I swear this is true. It was the best of days. I had been away for three weeks in Colombia and had just arrived at 5:00 PM in Newark from a long flight. When I walked outside the airport to catch my ride back to my “home” in New Jersey, I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by an unseasonably pleasant 72° F soft breeze. I remember being very relaxed in my seat on the way back home, appreciating the clear sky above and basking in the balmy weather. I mostly fasted during my flight, and I was also looking forward to getting back to our place, taking some prasādam, and resting. I noted that the early evening did seem exceptionally heavenly. Suddenly, out of nowhere, almost like an ominous ākāśa-vāṇī,[1] I heard an eerie, sharp beep. It was from my phone. I grabbed the phone at my side and looked down: Emergency Alert: Tornado warnings until 8 PM. Immediately take shelter in the basement of your house or go to the nearest public shelter. “What?!” I turned to Jack driving. “It’s nothing. It’s like being warned of a lightning strike. The probability of getting hit by one is practically nil. This is not Kansas. We’ll be home shortly.” I looked up, and the skies were perfectly clear. Sounds good, then boom!

 

The Sāṁvartaka clouds appear.[2] It becomes pitch black. Columns of torrential rain pound our windshield, blinding our vision. We slow down and stop at the next intersection. The winds are ominously blowing like a wind tunnel on the highway crossing before us, kicking up debris. It doesn’t look good. Finally, we arrive. We scurry ten feet in the rain to the door, rush inside and close the door quickly behind us. Home at last! As I place my bags in my room and sit down, a realization suddenly comes to my mind based on something I had just read from the Govardhan-līlā:

 

“The word mac-charaṇam indicates not only Lord Krsna was the sole shelter for the vraja-jana, the people of Vrindavana, but also that Lord Krsna had established His home among them. Śrīla Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura quotes from the Anekārtha-varga dictionary, śaraṇaṁ gṛha-rakṣitroḥ: ‘The word śaraṇaṁ can represent either home or protector.’” (Bhag. 10.25.18, purport)

 

The concept of śaraṇaṁ, taking shelter, and the suggested translation of “home”, seemed so appropriate for what just happened. I was somewhat in danger, then immediately relief—shelter at home. The translation of śaraṇaṁ as “home” does seem to add some important insight into its meaning, which is usually translated as “surrender”, such as in the famous verse:

 

sarva-dharmān parityajya
mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja
ahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo
mokṣayiṣyāmi mā śucaḥ

Synonyms

sarvadharmān—all varieties of religion; parityajya—abandoning; mām—unto Me; ekam—only; śaraṇam—for surrender; vraja—go; aham—I; tvām—you; sarva—all; pāpebhyaḥ—from sinful reactions; mokṣayiṣyāmi—will deliver; —do not; śucaḥ—worry.

Translation

“Abandon all varieties of religion and just surrender unto Me. I shall deliver you from all sinful reactions. Do not fear.” (Bg. 18.66)

 

The English translation of śaraṇaṁ as “surrender” is certainly appropriate because śaraṇaṁ is a verb, and the word “surrender” expresses our agency in the matter of taking shelter, whereas the translation “home” is a noun and lacks action. The translation and metaphor of the word “home”, however, does add a lot to the meaning of śaraṇaṁ because the word śaraṇaṁ is never meant to conflated with a forced act of one defeated or enslaved, as the word surrender often implies, but rather seeking shelter willingly where one is protected and maintained like at home.

 

The word “śaraṇāgati”, is also usually translated as “surrender” but its literally meaning—śaraṇa (for shelter or protection) gati (to go)—is also very much enhanced by the image of going home, because the image of home suitably conveys what surrender looks like—putting ourselves under that place where our needs are finally maintained from an environment where those needs are threatened, and certainly not to a place of capitulation. I love how Śrīla Narottama beautifully expresses this concept of śaraṇaṁ as going from danger to relief in the song “Gaurāṅga karuna koro”, which also parallels my initial inspiration of finding shelter from a storm:

 

“I am plunged amidst the violent hurricane-stricken waves in the ocean of this material world, from which there is no escape. Kindly give me the gift of Your divine lotus feet, which are compared to a boat in which Your servant may cross over the ocean of birth and death.” (Verse 4)

 

One more important point must be stressed. Our greatest need is love. Ideally, home is a place where we also find fulfilling relationships in a world of strife and disappointment. The idea that home is where we find the shelter of love also enhances the metaphor between home and the ultimate shelter with God, because more than anything else our relationship with God is the place where our hearts can be fully satisfied. And that was my ultimate realization from the eye of a tornado!

 

“This temporary material world is full of suffering, take shelter of the holy name of Krishna as your only business.” (Arunodaya kirtan Song 1 verse 6 Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura)

 

 

 


[1] An ākāśa-vāṇī is an unembodied voice from the sky often described in the traditional literature of India, such as in the description of Krishna’s birth, when during the marriage procession of Devakī, his mother, a voice comes from the sky to predict that her eighth child will cause the death of her brother Kaṁsa. The emergency alert invoked that image for me as it came out of nowhere.

[2] The Sāṁvartaka clouds are the clouds of universal destruction. We see their effect in the story of Govardhan-līlā where they are summoned by Indra to destroy Vrindavan. The sky becomes black and there are unprecedented torrents of rain. The storm I was in reminded me of that.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #15 – The Universal Form and Rāgānugā-bhakti

April 10th, 2023

One of my passions is to empower people. I define empowerment as recognizing, encouraging, and facilitating the abilities of others, especially those who are junior to one. I will be giving classes for the next few months in the New Jersey area and inviting others to speak at my programs in this spirit. Yesterday, after my short introduction, I asked Jaya Jagannath to do kirtan and share a realization. He didn’t disappoint us. I would like to outline his points from memory. Obviously, as it was his realization, and I am recounting it from memory, I can’t do it full justice, and therefore there might be slight gaps in logic between the points in my presentation that were not there between the points in his lecture. Still, it was so well conceptualized and expressed that I am sure that whatever ideas of his that I can recount will be appreciated. I will list what I remember point-by-point. It’s a shame we didn’t tape it.

 

  1. Jaya Jagannath was always somewhat bored with reading the description of the universal form that is repeatedly described in several of the initial cantos of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

 

  1. Gradually, with his studies of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and deep prayer, he began to appreciate these topics as he realized more and more that those things that manifest from God, such as the universe, are in many ways a microcosm of God and when approached in the proper way and attitude reveal the Divine.

 

  1. He also realized how important those studies are in molding one’s psyche, for if one doesn’t see design and order in the world and thus just sees the universe as chaos and random, that chaotic or relative conception will naturally be reflected in one’s values or thoughts. As a result, one will tend to embrace post-modern conceptions, where there are no objective truths or values. For example, even the simple distinctions of what is a woman will be blurred.[1]

 

  1. One important order of the manifest world as described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is that it is generally divided into three divisions: the underworld (the world of the demons), the middle earth or terrestrial realm (humans), and the celestial world (the Gods).

 

  1. We are also a reflection of God, and thus these three divisions are also reflected in our psyche. Therefore, as within the universe there is both conflicts and cooperation between these three worlds, in the same way these conflicted and cooperative relationships between these different worlds manifest in our psyche in our day-to-day thoughts.

 

  1. For example, if we are not aware of our underworld and don’t sufficiently recognize it, our lower side will remain as a shadow, and only break out later into our everyday plane with more force.

 

  1. Also, people who want to develop spiritually must also pay more attention to the pure spiritual self in the upper or celestial world by hearing about and imbibing the consciousness of the residents there and then bring that consciousness into their daily lives.

 

  1. For people on the path of Krishna consciousness, the celestial world is described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, especially in the Tenth Canto, where the perfection of consciousness is described as the relationship or mood of devotion between the residents of Vrindavan and Krishna.

 

  1. Rāgānugā-bhakti is the practice of emulating the perfected souls of Vrindavan (the celestial world), which is outlined in three verses in Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī’s magnum opus, Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu. An understanding of the inter-relation between these three divisions in the psyche can also clarify the practice of rāgānugā-bhakti.

 

  1. The first verse that Rūpa Gosvāmī cites about rāgānugā-bhakti says that one who has reached the platform of spontaneous devotion and becomes attracted to the devotion of a particular resident of Vrindavan should cultivate that mood of devotion by regularly hearing about that devotee and his loving relationship with Sri Krishna.[2] In other words, as we advance, we should increasingly develop our consciousness in relation to the celestial or spiritual world by hearing about that realm and appropriately emulating it, and not, as most people do, keep our thoughts just in the day-to-day karmic terrestrial plane.

 

  1. The second verse says that we should follow that devotee whose devotion we covet both in their siddha-rūpa (their forms as a resident of the upper celestial world, as a resident of Goloka (celestial) Vrindavan) and in their sādhaka-rūpa (their corresponding form as a practitioner in the middle or earthly realm such as the Six Gosvāmīs of Gokula (terrestrial) Vrindavan.[3]

 

  1. One way to follow the devotion of the devotee we emulate when they are in their sādhaka-rūpa on the earth plane is not just by emulating their spiritual practices, which is the main thing we should follow, but also by observing and following their bhāvanām (mood of devotion) as it plays out in their dealings with others and in their view of the cosmos in this world.

 

I am not sure I did justice to Jaya Jagannath’s presentation, but I would just like to elaborate on his last point, which ended his presentation. Remember his class was a response to my request for him to just share a philosophical realization he was a having. If I summed it up, his realization is that the world is a manifestation of the divine, and as one advances in devotion, one increasingly sees it and responds to it in that way. Therefore, when one enters deeper into a life of prayer and starts to increasingly dwell on the celestial or higher realms of existence, the bhāvanām, or mood of devotion one aspires for, increasingly comes into one’s daily life to the extent that rather than reject the material realm as separate from God, one will look at and relate to the cosmos as divine and in relation to one’s relationship with Krishna. Again, it was his personal realization, and I may have fallen short in personally expressing it, but his talk really hit me at the end when he brought his own aspirations in prayer for spontaneous devotion to where he began his presentation: the relevance of the universal form in terms of relating to the world as divine and in a devotional consciousness. In all, a somewhat unique, but substantial realization connecting the universal form, or how we even view the cosmos in a divine way, and spontaneous devotion or rāgānugā-bhakti. It was certainly well done and thought provoking.

 

 


[1] It was clear that this example wasn’t denying that people should be identified, treated, and respected by a gender they choose, even if is different than the gender of their birth. The confusion referred to is when the distinction between adult females and adult males is blurred on the biological level.

[2] “The devotee should always think of Kṛṣṇa within himself and should choose a very dear devotee who is a servitor of Kṛṣṇa in Vṛndāvana. One should constantly engage in topics about that servitor and his loving relationship with Kṛṣṇa, and one should live in Vṛndāvana. If one is physically unable to go to Vṛndāvana, he should mentally live there.” (Brs. 1.2.295)

[3] “The advanced devotee who is inclined to spontaneous loving service should follow the activities of a particular associate of Kṛṣṇa’s in Vṛndāvana. He should execute service externally as a regulative devotee as well as internally from his self-realized position. Thus he should perform devotional service both externally and internally.” (Brs. 1.2. 295)

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #14 – Seeing, But Not Seeing, Sri Sri Radha and Krishna

April 3rd, 2023

In the history of the world, everyone has died. We don’t have to look far to see that our eldest relatives are gone, and that eventually we are next. Still, the most amazing thing, according to the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, is that we act as if somehow we will not die. Yes, we may acknowledge the fact that one day we will leave this body, and we may also be very fearful of death, but still, we are mostly oblivious to the stark reality of our mortality in how we look at, react to, and plan our lives. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam calls this paśyann (seeing) api na paśyati (but not seeing).[1] When I again chanced upon this phrase this week, I was intrigued and began to meditate on its meaning. What became obvious was the myriad of reasons why we don’t see that which is right before our eyes. What struck me most in my musings is how relevant it is to recognize this phenomenon to fully understand Radha and Krishna in truth.

 

First, my thoughts on what the various obstacles to perception are:

 

Inattention

 

Perception is not just a matter of the senses. It depends on the focus of the mind. Have you ever daydreamed while chanting your japa or reciting a prayer and didn’t hear anything although you were chanting the mantra or prayer and vibrating the eardrum with its sound? The reason you didn’t hear anything was because in order for something to register in our awareness it requires not only the activation of the external senses, but the focus of the internal sense—the mind. Real chanting is thus done with the mind—although for most people, without activating the external senses, the mind will not be focused on our meditation, and there will not be a willful impression of the holy name in the consciousness. Conclusion: Unless one is attentive, even though we may be hearing and seeing, we in fact are not seeing (paśyann api na paśyati).

 

Ignorance

 

Can you perceive something if you do not know what it is? Imagine going back 2,000 years in time and showing your iPhone to a person of that era. Although seeing it, they would not be able to perceive it as a phone because of ignorance of what it is. Therefore, to see and respond to the world properly, a cultured and intelligent person consciously sees the world through the lens or eyes of knowledge or śāstra (jñāna-cakṣus). Conclusion: Unless we have knowledge, although seeing and hearing, we in fact are not seeing (paśyann api na paśyati).

 

Attitude

 

Our attitude also effects our perception. Go back to the last presidential election in the United States and choose a candidate that you dislike the most. Probably half the country who is seeing and hearing the exact same person is perceiving him in exactly the opposite way as you. Our attitude, especially in terms of the dualities of desire and hate, very much affect our ability to accurately perceive the world, especially its people. For example, when we hate or envy someone, we tend to see them as less than they are. Conclusion: Unless one is beyond prejudice, although seeing and hearing something, we in fact are not seeing (paśyann api na paśyati).

 

Strong Material Attachment

 

Have you ever entered a monetary transaction with a narcissist? A narcissist sees the world through their own desires, so in all likelihood at some time in the transaction they saw your money as theirs and were either reluctant to give it back to you or they outright kept it. Our nature is to color the world by our attachments only seeing what we desire as true and not hearing as valid what we don’t like. Conclusion: Unless we become detached, although seeing or hearing something, we in fact are not seeing (paśyann api na paśyati).

 

Seeing and Hearing Radha and Krishna

 

The goal of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is to hear and realize the Tenth Canto, specifically the love of Radha and Krishna. But are we hearing about Radha and Krishna in truth if we are not sufficiently attentive, knowledgeable, free from envy and pure in heart? Śrīla Vyāsa, the author, didn’t think so. He therefore organized the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam so that before we hear about Sri Krishna’s pastimes in the Tenth Canto, we need to study the preceding nine cantos first, which are written to purify us of the obstacles to perception so that when we finally hear about Radha and Krishna in the Tenth Canto, we hear the highest spiritual reality and not something mundane or fantastical.

 

I am foolishly convinced that the reality I see is what is there, including that my temporary body is my true, lasting identity, but if I am seeing the truth then why when I hear the holy name and the pastimes of Radha and Krishna, the ultimate reality and the truest source of love and beauty, does my heart not melt in ecstasy?

 

“Certainly that heart is steel-framed which, in spite of one’s chanting the holy name of the Lord with concentration, does not change when ecstasy takes place, tears fill the eyes and the hairs stand on end.” (Bhag. 2.3.24) Paśyann api na paśyati.

 

 


[1] Bhag. 2.1.4

 

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