Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda - Vol-4
Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda
Volume-4
Published by Advaita Ashrama, Kolkatta
E-Text Source: www.ramakrishnavivekananda.info
Index
Addresses on Bhakti-Yoga
* The Preparation
* The First Steps
* The Teacher of Spirituality
* The Need of Symbols
* The Chief Symbols
* The Ishta
Lectures and Discourses
* The Ramayana
* The Mahabharata
* Thoughts on the Gita
* The Story of Jada Bharata
* The Story of Prahlada
* Great Teachers of the World
* On Lord Buddha
* Christ, the Messenger
* My Master
* Indian Religious Thought
* Spiritual Research
* On Art in India
* Is India a Benighted Country?
* The Claims of Religion
* Concentration
* Meditation
* The Practice of Religion
Writings: Prose
* Is the Soul Immortal?
* Reincarnation
* On Dr. Paul Deussen
* On Professor Max Müller
* Sketch of the Life of Pavhari Baba
* Aryans and Tamilians
* The Hymn of Samadhi
* A Hymn to the Divine Mother
* A Hymn to Shiva
* The Social Conference Address
* India's Message to the World
* Stray Remarks on Theosophy
* Reply to Address of Maharaja of Khetri
* Reply to the Madras address
* A Message of Sympathy to a Friend
* What we Believe in
* Our Duty to the Masses
* Reply to the Calcutta Address
* To my Brave Boys
* A Plan of Work for India
* Fundamentals of Religion
Writings: Poems
* Kali the Mother
* Angels Unawares
* To the Awakened India
* Requiescat in Pace
* Hold on Yet a While, Brave Heart
* Nirvanashatkam
* The Song of The Sannyasin
* Peace
Translations: Prose
* Problem of Modern India and Solution
* Ramakrishna, his Life and Sayings
* Paris Congress of History of Religions
* Knowledge: Its Source & Acquirement
* Modern India
* The Education that India needs
* Our Present Social Problems
Translations: Poems
* To a Friend
* The Hymn of Creation
* Hymn to Divinity of Shri Ramakrishna
* "And let Shyama Dance there"
* A Song I Sing to Thee
Addresses on Bhakti-Yoga
THE PREPARATION
The best definition given of Bhakti-Yoga is perhaps embodied in
the verse: "May that love undying which the non-discriminating
have for the fleeting objects of the senses never leave this
heart of mine - of me who seek after Thee!" We see what a strong
love men, who do not know any better, have for sense-objects,
for money, dress, their wives, children, friends, and
possessions. What a tremendous clinging they have to all these
things! So in the above prayer the sage says, "I will have that
attachment, that tremendous clinging, only to Thee." This love,
when given to God, is called Bhakti. Bhakti is not destructive;
it teaches us that no one of the faculties we have has been
given in vain, that through them is the natural way to come to
liberation. Bhakti does not kill out our tendencies, it does not
go against nature, but only gives it a higher and more powerful
direction. How naturally we love objects of the senses! We
cannot but do so, because they are so real to us. We do not
ordinarily see anything real about higher things, but when a man
has seen something real beyond the senses, beyond the universe
of senses, the idea is that he can have a strong attachment,
only it should be transferred to the object beyond the senses,
which is God. And when the same kind of love that has before
been given to sense-objects is given to God, it is called
Bhakti. According to the sage Râmânuja, the following are the
preparations for getting that intense love.
The first is Viveka. It is a very curious thing, especially to
people of the West. It means, according to Ramanuja,
"discrimination of food". Food contains all the energies that go
to make up the forces of our body and mind; it has been
transferred, and conserved, and given new directions in my body,
but my body and mind have nothing essentially different from the
food that I ate. Just as the force and matter we find in the
material world become body and mind in us, so, essentially, the
difference between body and mind and the food we eat is only in
manifestation. It being so, that out of the material particles
of our food we construct the instrument of thought, and that
from the finer forces lodged in these particles we manufacture
thought itself, it naturally follows, that both this thought and
the instrument will be modified by the food we take. There are
certain kinds of food that produce a certain change in the mind;
we see it every day. There are other sorts which produce a
change in the body, and in the long run have a tremendous effect
on the mind. It is a great thing to learn; a good deal of the
misery we suffer is occasioned by the food we take. You find
that after a heavy and indigestible meal it is very hard to
control the mind; it is running, running all the time. There are
certain foods which are exciting; if you eat such food, you find
that you cannot control the mind. It is obvious that after
drinking a large quantity of wine, or other alcoholic beverage,
a man finds that his mind would not be controlled; it runs away
from his control.
According to Ramanuja, there are three things in food we must
avoid. First, there is Jâti, the nature, or species of the food,
that must be considered. All exciting food should be avoided, as
meat, for instance; this should not be taken because it is by
its very nature impure. We can get it only by taking the life of
another. We get pleasure for a moment, and another creature has
to give up its life to give us that pleasure. Not only so, but
we demoralise other human beings. It would be rather better if
every man who eats meat killed the animal himself; but, instead
of doing so, society gets a class of persons to do that business
for them, for doing which, it hates them. In England no butcher
can serve on a jury, the idea being that he is cruel by nature.
Who makes him cruel? Society. If we did not eat beef and mutton,
there would be no butchers. Eating meat is only allowable for
people who do very hard work, and who are not going to be
Bhaktas; but if you are going to be Bhaktas, you should avoid
meat. Also, all exciting foods, such as onions, garlic, and all
evil-smelling food, as "sauerkraut". Any food that has been
standing for days, till its condition is changed, any food whose
natural juices have been almost dried ups any food that is
malodorous, should be avoided.
The next thing that is to be considered as regards food is still
more intricate to Western minds - it is what is called Âshraya,
i.e. the person from whom it comes This is rather a mysterious
theory of the Hindus. The idea is that each man has a certain
aura round him, and whatever thing he touches, a part of his
character, as it were, his influence, is left on it. It is
supposed that a man's character emanates from him, as it were,
like a physical force, and whatever he touches is affected by
it. So we must take care who touches our food when it is cooked;
a wicked or immoral person must not touch it. One who wants to
be a Bhakta must not dine with people whom he knows to be very
wicked, because their infection will come through the food.
The other form of purity to be observed is Nimitta, or
instruments. Dirt and dust must not be in food. Food should not
be brought from the market and placed on the table unwashed. We
must be careful also about the saliva and other secretions. The
lips ought never, for instance, to be touched with the fingers.
The mucous membrane is the most delicate part of the body, and
all tendencies are conveyed very easily by the saliva. Its
contact, therefore, is to be regarded as not only offensive, but
dangerous. Again, we must not eat food, half of which has been
eaten by someone else. When these things are avoided in food, it
becomes pure; pure food brings a pure mind, and in a pure mind
is a constant memory of God.
Let me tell you the same thing as explained by another
commentator, Shankarâchârya, who takes quite another view. This
word for food, in Sanskrit, is derived from the root, meaning to
gather. Âhâra means "gathered in". What is his explanation? He
says, the passage that when food is pure the mind will become
pure really means that lest we become subject to the senses we
should avoid the following: First as to attachment; we must not
be extremely attached to anything excepting God. See everything,
do everything, but be not attached. As soon as extreme
attachment comes, a man loses himself, he is no more master of
himself, he is a slave. If a woman is tremendously attached to a
man, she becomes a slave to that man. There is no use in being a
slave. There are higher things in this world than becoming a
slave to a human being. Love and do good to everybody, but do
not become a slave. In the first place, attachment degenerates
us, individually, and in the second place, makes us extremely
selfish. Owing to this failing, we want to injure others to do
good to those we love. A good many of the wicked deeds done in
this world are really done through attachment to certain
persons. So all attachment excepting that for good works should
be avoided; but love should be given to everybody. Then as to
jealousy. There should be no jealousy in regard to objects of
the senses; jealousy is the root of all evil, and a most
difficult thing to conquer. Next, delusion. We always take one
thing for another, and act upon that, with the result that we
bring misery upon ourselves. We take the bad for the good.
Anything that titillates our nerves for a moment we think; as
the highest good, and plunge into it immediately, but find, when
it is too late, that it has given us a tremendous blow. Every
day, we run into this error, and we often continue in it all our
lives. When the senses, without being extremely attached,
without jealousy, or without delusion, work in the world, such
work or collection of impressions is called pure food, according
to Shankaracharya. When pure food is taken, the mind is able to
take in objects and think about them without attachment,
jealousy or delusion; then the mind becomes pure, and then there
is constant memory of God in that mind.
It is quite natural for one to say that Shankara's meaning is
the best, but I wish to add that one should not neglect
Ramanuja's interpretation either. It is only when you take care
of the real material food that the rest will come. It is very
true that mind is the master, but very few of us are not bound
by the senses. We are all controlled by matter; and as long as
we are so controlled, we must take material aids; and then, when
we have become strong, we can eat or drink anything we like. We
have to follow Ramanuja in taking care about food and drink; at
the same time we must also take care about our mental food. It
is very easy to take care about material food, but mental work
must go along with it; then gradually our spiritual self will
become stronger and stronger, and the physical self-less
assertive. Then will food hurt you no more. The great danger is
that every man wants to jump at the highest ideal, but jumping
is not the way. That ends only in a fall. We are bound down
here, and we have to break our chains slowly. This is called
Viveka, discrimination.
The next is called Vimoka, freedom from desires. He who wants to
love God must get rid of extreme desires, desire nothing except
God. This world is good so far as it helps one to go to the
higher world. The objects of the senses are good so far as they
help us to attain higher objects. We always forget that this
world is a means to an end, and not an end itself. If this were
the end we should be immortal here in our physical body; we
should never die. But we see people every moment dying around
us, and yet, foolishly, we think we shall never die; and from
that conviction we come to think that this life is the goal.
That is the case with ninety-nine per cent of us. This notion
should be given up at once. This world is good so far as it is a
means to perfect ourselves; and as soon as it has ceased to be
so, it is evil. So wife, husband, children, money and learning,
are good so long as they help us forward; but as soon as they
cease to do that, they are nothing but evil. If the wife help us
to attain God, she is a good wife; so with a husband or a child.
If money help a man to do good to others, it is of some value;
but if not, it is simply a mass of evil, and the sooner it is
got rid of, the better.
The next is Abhyâsa, practice. The mind should always go towards
God. No other things have any right to withhold it. It should
continuously think of God, though this is a very hard task; yet
it can be done by persistent practice. What we are now is the
result of our past practice. Again, practice makes us what we
shall be. So practice the other way; one sort of turning round
has brought us this way, turn the other way and get out of it as
soon as you can. Thinking of the senses has brought us down here
- to cry one moment, to rejoice the next, to be at the mercy of
every breeze, slave to everything. This is shameful, and yet we
call ourselves spirits. Go the other way, think of God; let the
mind not think of any physical or mental enjoyment, but of God
alone. When it tries to think of anything else, give it a good
blow, so that it may turn round and think of God. As oil poured
from one vessel to another falls in an unbroken line, as chimes
coming from a distance fall upon the ear as one continuous
sound, so should the mind flow towards God in one continuous
stream. We should not only impose this practice on the mind, but
the senses too should be employed. Instead of hearing foolish
things, we must hear about God; instead of talking foolish
words, we must talk of God. Instead of reading foolish books, we
must read good ones which tell of God.
The greatest aid to this practice of keeping God in memory is,
perhaps, music. The Lord says to Nârada, the great teacher of
Bhakti, "I do not live in heaven, nor do I live in the heart of
the Yogi, but where My devotees sing My praise, there am I".
Music has such tremendous power over the human mind; it brings
it to concentration in a moment. You will find the dull,
ignorant, low, brute-like human beings, who never steady their
mind for a moment at other times, when they hear attractive
music, immediately become charmed and concentrated. Even the
minds of animals, such as dogs, lions, cats, and serpents,
become charmed with music.
The next is Kriyâ, work - doing good to others. The memory of
God will not come to the selfish man. The more we come out and
do good to others, the more our hearts will be purified, and God
will be in them. According to our scriptures, there are five
sorts of work, called the fivefold sacrifice. First, study. A
man must study every day something holy and good. Second,
worship of God, angels, or saints, as it may be. Third, our duty
to our forefathers. Fourth, our duty to human beings. Man has no
right to live in a house himself, until he builds for the poor
also, or for anybody who needs it. The householder's house
should be open to everybody that is poor and suffering; then he
is a real householder. If he builds a house only for himself and
his wife to enjoy, he will never be a lover of God. No man has
the right to cook food only for himself; it is for others, and
he should have what remains. It is a common practice in India
that when the season's produce first comes into the market, such
as strawberries or mangoes, a man buys some of them and gives to
the poor. Then he eats of them; and it is a very good example to
follow in this country. This training will make a man unselfish,
and at the same time, be an excellent object-lesson to his wife
and children. The Hebrews in olden times used to give the first
fruits to God. The first of everything should go to the poor; we
have only a right to what remains. The poor are God's
representatives; anyone that suffers is His representative.
Without giving, he who eats and enjoys eating, enjoys sin.
Fifth, our duty to the lower animals. It is diabolical to say
that all animals are created for men to be killed and used in
any way man likes. It is the devil's gospel, not God's. Think
how diabolical it is to cut them up to see whether a nerve
quivers or not, in a certain part of the body. I am glad that in
our country such things are not countenanced by the Hindus,
whatever encouragement they may get from the foreign government
they are under. One portion of the food cooked in a household
belongs to the animals also. They should be given food every
day; there ought to be hospitals in every city in this country
for poor, lame, or blind horses, cows, dogs, and cats, where
they should be fed and taken care of.
Then there is Kalyâna, purity, which comprises the following:
Satya, truthfulness. He who is true, unto him the God of truth
comes. Thought, word, and deed should be perfectly true. Next
Ârjava, straightforwardness, rectitude. The word means, to be
simple, no crookedness in the heart, no double-dealing. Even if
it is a little harsh, go straightforward, and not crookedly.
Dayâ, pity, compassion. Ahimsâ, not injuring any being by
thought, word, or deed. Dâna, charity. There is no higher virtue
than charity. The lowest man is he whose hand draws in, in
receiving; and he is the highest man whose hand goes out in
giving. The hand was made to give always. Give the last bit of
bread you have even if you are starving. You will be free in a
moment if you starve yourself to death by giving to another.
Immediately you will be perfect, you will become God. People who
have children are bound already. They cannot give away. They
want to enjoy their children, and they must pay for it. Are
there not enough children in the world? It is only selfishness
which says, "I'll have a child for myself".
The next is Anavasâda - not desponding, cheerfulness.
Despondency is not religion, whatever else it may be. By being
pleasant always and smiling, it takes you nearer to God, nearer
than any prayer. How can those minds that are gloomy and dull
love? If they talk of love, it is false; they want to hurt
others. Think of the fanatics; they make the longest faces, and
all their religion is to fight against others in word and act.
Think of what they have done in the past, and of what they would
do now if they were given a free hand. They would deluge the
whole world in blood tomorrow if it would bring them power. By
worshipping power and making long faces, they lose every bit of
love from their hearts. So the man who always feels miserable
will never come to God. It is not religion, it is diabolism to
say, "I am so miserable." Every man has his own burden to bear.
If you are miserable, try to be happy, try to conquer it.
God is not to be reached by the weak. Never be weak. You must be
strong; you have infinite strength within you. How else will you
conquer anything? How else will you come to God? At the same
time you must avoid excessive merriment, Uddharsha, as it is
called. A mind in that state never becomes calm; it becomes
fickle. Excessive merriment will always be followed by sorrow.
Tears and laughter are near kin. People so often run from one
extreme to the other. Let the mind be cheerful, but calm. Never
let it run into excesses, because every excess will be followed
by a reaction.
These, according to Ramanuja, are the preparations for Bhakti.
THE FIRST STEPS
The philosophers who wrote on Bhakti defined it as extreme love
for God. Why a man should love God is the question to be solved;
and until we understand that, we shall not be able to grasp the
subject at all. There are two entirely different ideals of life.
A man of any country who has any religion knows that he is a
body and a spirit also. But there is a great deal of difference
as to the goal of human life.
In Western countries, as a rule, people lay more stress on the
body aspect of man; those philosophers who wrote on Bhakti in
India laid stress on the spiritual side of man; and this
difference seems to be typical of the Oriental and Occidental
nations. It is so even in common language. In England, when
speaking of death it is said, a man gave up his ghost; in India,
a man gave up his body. The one idea is that man is a body and
has a soul; the other that man is a soul and has a body. More
intricate problems arise out of this. It naturally follows that
the ideal which holds that man is a body and has a soul lays all
the stress on the body. If you ask why man lives, you will be
told it is to enjoy the senses, to enjoy possessions and wealth.
He cannot dream of anything beyond even if he is told of it; his
idea of a future life would be a continuation of this enjoyment.
He is very sorry that it cannot continue all the time here, but
he has to depart; and he thinks that somehow or other he will go
to some place where the same thing will be renewed. He will have
the same enjoyments, the same senses, only heightened and
strengthened. He wants to worship Cod, because God is the means
to attain this end. The goal of his life is enjoyment of
sense-objects, and he comes to know there is a Being who can
give him a very long lease of these enjoyments, and that is why
he worships God.
On the other hand the Indian idea is that God is the goal of
life; there is nothing beyond God, and the sense-enjoyments are
simply something through which we are passing now in the hope of
getting better things. Not only so; it would be disastrous and
terrible if man had nothing but sense-enjoyments. In our
everyday life we find that the less the sense-enjoyments, the
higher the life of the man. Look at the dog when he eats. No man
ever ate with the same satisfaction. Observe the pig giving
grunts of satisfaction as he eats; it is his heaven, and if the
greatest archangel came and looked on, the pig would not even
notice him. His whole existence is in his eating. No man was
ever born who could eat that way. Think of the power of hearing
in the lower animals, the power of seeing; all their senses are
highly developed. Their enjoyment of the senses is extreme; they
become simply mad with delight and pleasure. And the lower the
man also, the more delight he finds in the senses. As he gets
higher, the goal becomes reason and love. In proportion as these
faculties develop, he loses the power of enjoying the senses.
For illustration's sake, if we take for granted that a certain
amount of power is given to man, and that that can be spent
either on the body, or the mind, or the spirit, then all the
powers spent on any one of these leaves just so much less to be
expended on the others. The ignorant or savage races have much
stronger sensual faculties than the civilised races, and this
is, in fact, one of the lessons we learn from history that as a
nation becomes civilised the nerve organisation becomes finer,
and they become physically weaker. Civilise a savage race, and
you will find the same thing; another barbarian race comes up
and conquers it. It is nearly always the barbarian race that
conquers. We see then that if we desire only to have
sense-enjoyments all the time, we degrade ourselves to the brute
state. A man does not know what he is asking for when he says,
he wants to go to a place where his sense-enjoyments will be
intensified; that he can only have by going down to the brutes.
So with men desiring a heaven full of sense-pleasures. They are
like swine wallowing in the mire of the senses, unable to see
anything beyond. This sense-enjoyment is what they want, and the
loss of it is the loss of heaven to them. These can never be
Bhaktas in the highest sense of the word; they can never be true
lovers of God. At the same time, though this lower ideal be
followed for a time, it will also in course of time change, each
man will find that there is something higher, of which he did
not know, and so this clinging to life and to things of the
senses will gradually die away. When I was a little boy at
school, I had a fight with another schoolfellow about some
sweetmeats, and he being the stronger boy snatched them from my
hand. I remember the feeling I had; I thought that boy was the
most wicked boy ever born, and that as soon as I grew strong
enough I would punish him; there was no punishment sufficient
for his wickedness. We have both grown up now, and we are fast
friends. This world is full of babies to whom eating and
drinking, and all these little cakes are everything. They will
dream of these cakes, and their idea of future life is where
these cakes will be plentiful. Think of the American Indian who
believes that his future life will be in a place which is a very
good hunting ground. Each one of us has an idea of a heaven just
as we want it to be; but in course of time, as we grow older and
see higher things, we catch higher glimpses beyond. But let us
not dispense with our ideas of future life in the ordinary way
of modern times, by not believing in anything - that is
destruction. The agnostic who thus destroys everything is
mistaken, the Bhakta sees higher. The agnostic does not want to
go to heaven, because he has none; while the Bhakta does not
want to go to heaven, because he thinks it is child's play. What
he wants is God.
What can be a higher end than God? God Himself is the highest
goal of man; see Him, enjoy Him. We can never conceive anything
higher, because God is perfection. We cannot conceive of any
higher enjoyment than that of love, but this word love has
different meanings. It does not mean the ordinary selfish love
of the world; it is blasphemy to call that love. The love for
our children and our wives is mere animal love; that love which
is perfectly unselfish is the only love, and that is of God. It
is a very difficult thing to attain to. We are passing through
all these different loves - love of children, father, mother,
and so forth. We slowly exercise the faculty of love; but in the
majority of cases we never learn anything from it, we become
bound to one step, to one person. In some cases men come out of
this bondage. Men are ever running after wives and wealth and
fame in this world; sometimes they are hit very hard on the
head, and they find out what this world really is. No one in
this world can really love anything but God. Man finds out that
human love is all hollow. Men cannot love though they talk of
it. The wife says she loves her husband and kisses him; but as
soon as he dies, the first thing she thinks about is the bank
account, and what she shall do the next day. The husband loves
the wife; but when she becomes sick and loses her beauty, or
becomes haggard, or makes a mistake, he ceases to care for her.
All the love of the world is hypocrisy and hollowness.
A finite subject cannot love, nor a finite object be loved. When
the object of the love of a man is dying every moment, and his
mind also is constantly changing as he grows, what eternal love
can you expect to find in the world? There cannot be any real
love but in God: why then all these loves? These are mere
stages. There is a power behind impelling us forward, we do not
know where to seek for the real object, but this love is sending
us forward in search of it. Again and again we find out our
mistake. We grasp something, and find it slips through our
fingers, and then we grasp something else. Thus on and on we go,
till at last comes light; we come to God, the only One who
loves. His love knows no change and is ever ready to take us in.
How long would any of you bear with me if I injured you? He in
whose mind is no anger, hatred, or envy, who never loses his
balance, dies, or is born, who is he but God? But the path to
God is long and difficult, and very few people attain Him. We
are all babies struggling. Millions of people make a trade of
religion. A few men in a century attain to that love of God, and
the whole country becomes blessed and hallowed. When a son of
God appears, a whole country becomes blessed. It is true that
few such are born in any one century in the whole world, but all
should strive to attain that love of God. Who knows but you or I
may be the next to attain? Let us struggle therefore.
We say that a wife loves her husband. She thinks that her whole
soul is absorbed in him: a baby comes and half of it goes out to
the baby, or more. She herself will feel that the same love of
husband does not exist now. So with the father. We always find
that when more intense objects of love come to us, the previous
love slowly vanishes. Children at school think that some of
their schoolfellows are the dearest beings that they have in
life, or their fathers or mothers are so; then comes the husband
or wife, and immediately the old feeling disappears, and the new
love becomes uppermost. One star arises, another bigger one
comes, and then a still bigger one, and at last the sun comes,
and all the lesser lights vanish. That sun is God. The stars are
the smaller loves. When that Sun bursts upon him, a man becomes
mad what Emerson calls "a God-intoxicated man". Man becomes
transfigured into God, everything is merged in that one ocean of
love. Ordinary love is mere animal attraction. Otherwise why is
the distinction between the sexes? If one kneels before an
image, it is dreadful idolatry; but if one kneels before husband
or wife, it is quite permissible!
The world presents to us manifold stages of love. We have first
to clear the ground. Upon our view of life the whole theory of
love will rest. To think that this world is the aim and end of
life is brutal and degenerating. Any man who starts in life with
that idea degenerates himself He will never rise higher, he will
never catch this glimpse from behind, he will always be a slave
to the senses. He will struggle for the dollar that will get him
a few cakes to eat. Better die than live that life. Slaves of
this world, slaves of the senses, let us rouse ourselves; there
is something higher than this sense-life. Do you think that man,
the Infinite Spirit was born to be a slave to his eyes, his
nose, and his ears? There is an Infinite, Omniscient Spirit
behind that can do everything, break every bond; and that Spirit
we are, and we get that power through love. This is the ideal we
must remember. We cannot, of course, get it in a day. We may
fancy that we have it, but it is a fancy after all; it is a
long, long way off. We must take man where he stands, and help
him upwards. Man stands in materialism; you and I are
materialists. Our talking about God and Spirit is good; but it
is simply the vogue in our society to talk thus: we have learnt
it parrot-like and repeat it. So we have to take ourselves where
we are as materialists, and must take the help of matter and go
on slowly until we become real spiritualists, and feel ourselves
spirits, understand the spirit, and find that this world which
we call the infinite is but a gross external form of that world
which is behind.
But something besides that is necessary. You read in the Sermon
on the Mount, "Ask, and it shall be given (to) you; seek, and ye
shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." The
difficulty is, who seeks, who wants? We all say we know God. One
man writes a book to disprove God, another to prove Him. One man
thinks it his duty to prove Him all his life; another, to
disprove Him, and he goes about to teach man there is no God.
What is the use of writing a book either to prove or disprove
God? What does it matter to most people whether there is a God
or not? The majority of men work just like a machine with no
thought of God and feeling no need of Him. Then one day comes
Death and says, "Come." The man says, "Wait a little, I want a
little more time. I want to see my son grow a little bigger."
But Death says, "Come at once." So it goes on. So goes poor
John. What shall we say to poor John? He never found anything in
which God was the highest; perhaps he was a pig in the past, and
he is much better as a man. But there are some who get a little
awakening. Some misery comes, someone whom we love most dies,
that upon which we had bent our whole soul, that for which we
had cheated the whole world and perhaps our own brother, that
vanishes, and a blow comes to us. Perhaps a voice comes in our
soul and asks, "What after this?" Sometimes death comes without
a blow, but such cases are few. Most of us, when anything slips
through our fingers, say, "What next?" How we cling to the
senses! You have heard of a drowning man clutching at a straw; a
man will clutch at a straw first, and when it fails, he will say
someone must help him. Still people must, as the English phrase
goes, "sow their wild oats", before they can rise to higher
things.
Bhakti is a religion. Religion is not for the many that is
impossible. A sort of knee-drill, standing up and sitting down,
may be suited for the many; but religion is for the few. There
are in every country only a few hundreds who can be, and will be
religious. The others cannot be religious, because they will not
be awakened, and they do not want to be. The chief thing is to
want God. We want everything except God, because our ordinary
wants are supplied by the external world; it is only when our
necessities have gone beyond the external world that we want a
supply from the internal, from God. So long as our needs are
confined within the narrow limits of this physical universe, we
cannot have any need for God; it is only when we have become
satiated with everything here that we look beyond for a supply.
It is only when the need is there that the demand will come.
Have done with this child's play of the world as soon as you
can, and then you will feel the necessity of something beyond
the world, and the first step in religion will come.
There is a form of religion which is fashionable. My friend has
much furniture in her parlour; it is the fashion to have a
Japanese vase, so she must have one even if it costs a thousand
dollars. In the same way she will have a little religion and
join a church. Bhakti is not for such. That is not want. Want is
that without which we cannot live. We want breath, we want food,
we want clothes; without them we cannot live. When a man loves a
woman in this world, there are times when he feels that without
her he cannot live, although that is a mistake. When a husband
dies, the wife thinks she cannot live without him; but she lives
all the same. This is the secret of necessity: it is that
without which we cannot live; either it must come to us or we
die. When the time comes that we feel the same about God, or in
other words, we want something beyond this world, something
above all material forces, then we may become Bhaktas. What are
our little lives when for a moment the cloud passes away, and we
get one glimpse from beyond, and for that moment all these lower
desires seem like a drop in the ocean? Then the soul grows, and
feels the want of God, and must have Him.
The first step is: What do we want? Let us ask ourselves this
question every day, do we want God? You may read all the books
in the universe, but this love is not to be had by the power of
speech, not by the highest intellect, not by the study of
various sciences. He who desires God will get Love, unto him God
gives Himself. Love is always mutual, reflective. You may hate
me, and if I want to love you, you repulse me. But if I persist,
in a month or a year you are bound to love me. It is a wellknown
psychological phenomenon. As the loving wife thinks of her
departed husband, with the same love we must desire the Lord,
and then we will find God, and all books and the various
sciences would not be able to teach us anything. By reading
books we become parrots; no one becomes learned by reading
books. If a man reads but one word of love, he indeed becomes
learned. So we want first to get that desire.
Let us ask ourselves each day, "Do we want Gods" When we begin
to talk religion, and especially when we take a high position
and begin to teach others, we must ask ourselves the same
question. I find many times that I don't want God, I want bread
more. I may go mad if I don't get a piece of bread; many ladies
will go mad if they don't get a diamond pin, but they do not
have the same desire for God; they do not know the only Reality
that is in the universe. There is a proverb in our language - If
I want to be a hunter, I'll hunt the rhinoceros; if I want to be
a robber, I'll rob the king's treasury. What is the use of
robbing beggars or hunting ants? So if you want to love, love
God. Who cares for these things of the world? This world is
utterly false; all the great teachers of the world found that
out; there is no way out of it but through God. He is the goal
of our life; all ideas that the world is the goal of life are
pernicious. This world and this body have their own value, a
secondary value, as a means to an end; but the world should not
be the end. Unfortunately, too often we make the world the end
and God the means. We find people going to church and saying,
"God, give me such and such; God, heal my disease." They want
nice healthy bodies; and because they hear that someone will do
this work for them, they go and pray to Him. It is better to be
an atheist than to have such an idea of religion. As I have told
you, this Bhakti is the highest ideal; I don't know whether we
shall reach it or not in millions of years to come, but we must
make it our highest ideal, make our senses aim at the highest.
If we cannot get to the end, we shall at least come nearer to
it. We have slowly to work through the world and the senses to
reach God.
THE TEACHER OF SPIRITUALITY
Every soul is destined to be perfect, and every being, in the
end, will attain to that state. Whatever we are now is the
result of whatever we have been or thought in the past; and
whatever we shall be in the future will be the result of what we
do or think now. But this does not preclude our receiving help
from outside; the possibilities of the soul are always quickened
by some help from outside, so much so that in the vast majority
of cases in the world, help from outside is almost absolutely
necessary. Quickening influence comes from outside, and that
works upon our own potentialities; and then the growth begins,
spiritual life comes, and man becomes holy and perfect in the
end. This quickening impulse which comes from outside cannot be
received from books; the soul can receive impulse only from
another soul, and from nothing else. We may study books all our
lives, we may become very intellectual, but in the end we find
we have not developed at all spiritually. It does not follow
that a high order of intellectual development always shows an
equivalent development of the spiritual side of man; on the
other hand, we find cases almost every day where the intellect
has become very highly developed at the expense of the spirit.
Now in intellectual development we can get much help from books,
but in spiritual development, almost nothing. In studying books,
sometimes we are deluded into thinking that we are being
spiritually helped; but if we analyse ourselves, we shall find
that only our intellect has been helped, and not the spirit.
That is the reason why almost every one of us can speak most
wonderfully on spiritual subjects, but when the time of action
comes, we find ourselves so woefully deficient. It is because
books cannot give us that impulse from outside. To quicken the
spirit, that impulse must come from another soul.
That soul from which this impulse comes is called the Guru, the
teacher; and the soul to which the impulse is conveyed is called
the disciple, the student. In order to convey this impulse, in
the first place, the soul from which it comes must possess the
power of transmitting it, as it were, to another; and in the
second place, the object to which it is transmitted must be fit
to receive it. The seed must be a living seed, and the field
must be ready ploughed; and when both these conditions are
fulfilled, a wonderful growth of religion takes place. "The
speaker of religion must be wonderful, so must the hearer be";
and when both of these are really wonderful, extraordinary, then
alone will splendid spiritual growth come, and not otherwise.
These are the real teachers, and these are the real students.
Besides these, the others are playing with spirituality - just
having a little intellectual struggle, just satisfying a little
curiosity - but are standing only on the outward fringe of the
horizon of religion. There is some value in that; real thirst
for religion may thus be awakened; all comes in course of time.
It is a mysterious law of nature that as soon as the field is
ready the seed must come, as soon as the soul wants religion,
the transmitter of religious force must come. "The seeking
sinner meeteth the seeking Saviour." When the power that
attracts in the receiving soul is full and ripe, the power which
answers to that attraction must come.
But there are great dangers in the way. There is the danger to
the receiving soul of mistaking its momentary emotion for real
religious yearning. We find that in ourselves. Many times in our
lives, somebody dies whom we loved; we receive a blow; for a
moment we think that this world is slipping between our fingers,
and that we want something higher, and that we are going to be
religious. In a few days that wave passes away, and we are left
stranded where we were. We ofttimes mistake such impulses for
real thirst after religion, but so long as these momentary
emotions are thus mistaken, that continuous, real want of the
soul will not come, and we shall not find the "transmitter".
So when we complain that we have not got the truth, and that we
want it so much, instead of complaining, our first duty ought to
be to look into our own souls and find whether we really want
it. In the vast majority of cases we shall find that we are not
fit; we do not want; there was no thirst after the spiritual.
There are still more difficulties for the "transmitter". There
are many who, though immersed in ignorance, yet, in the pride of
their hearts, think they know everything, and not only do not
stop there, but offer to take others on their shoulders, and
thus "the blind leading the blind, they both fall into the
ditch". The world is full of these; everyone wants to be a
teacher, every beggar wants to make a gift of a million dollars.
Just as the latter is ridiculous, so are these teachers.
How are we to know a teacher then? In the first place, the sun
requires no torch to make it visible. We do not light a candle
to see the sun. When the sun rises, we instinctively become
aware of its rising; and when a teacher of men comes to help us,
the soul will instinctively know that it has found the truth.
Truth stands on its own evidences; it does not require any other
testimony to attest it; it is self-effulgent. It penetrates into
the inmost recesses of our nature, and the whole universe stands
up and says, "This is Truth." These are the very great teachers,
but we can get help from the lesser ones also; and as we
ourselves are not always sufficiently intuitive to be certain of
our judgment of the man from whom we receive, there ought to be
certain tests. There are certain conditions necessary in the
taught, and also in the teacher.
The conditions necessary in the taught are purity, a real thirst
after knowledge, and perseverance. No impure soul can be
religious; that is the one great condition; purity in every way
is absolutely necessary. The other condition is a real thirst
after knowledge. Who wants? That is the question. We get
whatever we want - that is an old, old law. He who wants, gets.
To want religion is a very difficult thing, not so easy as we
generally think. Then we always forget that religion does not
consist in hearing talks, or in reading books, but it is a
continuous struggle, a grappling with our own nature, a
continuous fight till the victory is achieved. It is not a
question of one or two days, of years, or of lives, but it may
be hundreds of lifetimes, and we must be ready for that. It may
come immediately, or it may not come in hundreds of lifetimes;
and we must be ready for that. The student who sets out with
such a spirit finds success.
In the teacher we must first see that he knows the secret of the
scriptures. The whole world reads scriptures - Bibles, Vedas,
Korans, and others; but they are only words, external
arrangement, syntax, the etymology, the philology, the dry bones
of religion. The teacher may be able to find what is the age of
any book, but words are only the external forms in which things
come. Those who deal too much in words and let the mind run
always in the force of words lose the spirit. So the teacher
must be able to know the spirit of the scriptures. The network
of words is like a huge forest in which the human mind loses
itself and finds no way out. The various methods of joining
words, the various methods of speaking a beautiful language, the
various methods of explaining the dicta of the scriptures, are
only for the enjoyment of the learned. They do not attain
perfection; they are simply desirous to show their learning, so
that the world may praise them and see that they are learned
men. You will find that no one of the great teachers of the
world went into these various explanations of texts; on their
part there is no attempt at "text-torturing", no saying, "This
word means this, and this is the philological connection between
this and that word." You study all the great teachers the world
has produced, and you will see that no one of them goes that
way. Yet they taught, while others, who have nothing to teach,
will take up a word and write a three-volume book on its origin
and use. As my Master used to say, what would you think of men
who went into a mango orchard and busied themselves in counting
the leaves and examining the colour of the leaves, the size of
the twigs, the number of branches, and so forth, while only one
of them had the sense to begin to eat the mangoes? So leave this
counting of leaves and twigs and this note-taking to others.
That work has its own value in its proper place, but not here in
the spiritual realm. Men never become spiritual through such
work; you have never once seen a strong spiritual man among
these "leaf-counters". Religion is the highest aim of man, the
highest glory, but it does not require "leaf-counting". If you
want to be a Christian, it is not necessary to know whether
Christ was born in Jerusalem or Bethlehem or just the exact date
on which he pronounced the Sermon on the Mount; you only require
to feel the Sermon on the Mount. It is not necessary to read two
thousand words on when it was delivered. All that is for the
enjoyment of the learned. Let them have it; say amen to that.
Let us eat the mangoes.
The second condition necessary in the teacher is that he must be
sinless. The question was once asked me in England by a friend,
"Why should we look to the personality of a teacher? We have
only to judge of what he says, and take that up." Not so. If a
man wants to teach me something of dynamics or chemistry or any
other physical science, he may be of any character; he can still
teach dynamics or any other science. For the knowledge that the
physical sciences require is simply intellectual and depends on
intellectual strength; a man can have in such a case a gigantic
intellectual power without the least development of his soul.
But in the spiritual sciences it is impossible from first to
last that there can be any spiritual light in that soul which is
impure. What can such a soul teach? It knows nothing. Spiritual
truth is purity. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall
see God". In that one sentence is the gist of all religions. If
you have learnt that, all that has been said in the past and all
that it is possible to say in the future, you have known; you
need not look into anything else, for you have all that is
necessary in that one sentence; it could save the world, were
all the other scriptures lost. A vision of God, a glimpse of the
beyond never comes until the soul is pure. Therefore in the
teacher of spirituality, purity is the one thing indispensable;
we must see first what he is, and then what he says. Not so with
intellectual teachers; there we care more for what he says than
what he is. With the teacher of religion we must first and
foremost see what he is, and then alone comes the value of the
words, because he is the transmitter. What will he transmit, if
he has not flat spiritual power in him? To give a simile: If a
heater is hot, it can convey heat vibrations, but if not, it is
impossible to do so. Even so is the case with the mental
vibrations of the religious teacher which he conveys to the mind
of the taught. It is a question of transference, and not of
stimulating only our intellectual faculties. Some power, real
and tangible, goes out from the teacher and begins to grow in
the mind of the taught. Therefore the necessary condition is
that the teacher must be true.
The third condition is motive. We should see that he does not
teach with any ulterior motive, for name, or fame, or anything
else, but simply for love, pure love for you. When spiritual
forces are transmitted from the teacher to the taught, they can
only be conveyed through the medium of love; there is no other
medium that can convey them. Any other motive, such as gain or
name, would immediately destroy the conveying medium; therefore
all must be done through love. One who has known God can alone
be a teacher. When you see that in the teacher these conditions
are fulfilled, you are safe; if they are not fulfilled, it is
unwise to accept him. There is a great risk, if he cannot convey
goodness, of his conveying wickedness sometimes. This must be
guarded against; therefore it naturally follows that we cannot
be taught by anybody and everybody.
The preaching of sermons by brooks and stones may be true as a
poetical figure but no one can preach a single grain of truth
until he has it in himself. To whom do the brooks preach
sermons? To that human soul only whose lotus of life has already
opened. When the heart has been opened, it can receive teaching
from the brooks or the stones - it can get some religious
teaching from all these; but the unopened heart will see nothing
but brooks and rolling stones. A blind man may come to a museum,
but he comes and goes only; if he is to see, his eyes must first
be opened. This eye-opener of religion is the teacher. With the
teacher, therefore, our relationship is that of ancestor and
descendant; the teacher is the spiritual ancestor, and the
disciple is the spiritual descendant. It is all very well to
talk of liberty and independence, but without humility,
submission, veneration, and faith, there will not be any
religion. It is a significant fact that where this relation
still exists between the teacher and the taught, there alone
gigantic spiritual souls grow; but in those who have thrown it
off religion is made into a diversion. In nations and churches
where this relation between teacher and taught is not maintained
spirituality is almost an unknown quantity. It never comes
without that feeling; there is no one to transmit and no one to
be transmitted to, because they are all independent. Of whom can
they learn? And if they come to learn, they come to buy
learning. Give me a dollar's worth of religion; cannot I pay a
dollar for it? Religion cannot be got that way!
There is nothing higher and holier than the knowledge which
comes to the soul transmitted by a spiritual teacher. If a man
has become a perfect Yogi it comes by itself, but it cannot be
got in books. You may go and knock your head against the four
corners of the world, seek in the Himalayas, the Alps, the
Caucasus, the Desert of Gobi or Sahara, or the bottom of the
sea, but it will not come until you find a teacher. Find the
teacher, serve him as a child, open your heart to his influence,
see in him God manifested. Our attention should be fixed on the
teacher as the highest manifestation of God; and as the power of
attention concentrates there, the picture of the teacher as man
will melt away; the frame will vanish, and the real God will be
left there. Those that come to truth with such a spirit of
veneration and love - for them the Lord of truth speaks the most
wonderful words. "Take thy shoes from off thy feet, for the
place whereon thou standest is holy ground". Wherever His name
is spoken, that place is holy. How much more so is a man who
speaks His name, and with what veneration ought we to approach a
man out of whom come spiritual truths! This is the spirit in
which we are to be taught. Such teachers are few in number, no
doubt, in this world, but the world is never altogether without
them. The moment it is absolutely bereft of these, it will cease
to be, it will become a hideous hell and will just drop. These
teachers are the fair flowers of human life and keep the world
going; it is the strength that is manifested from these hearts
of life that keeps the bounds of society intact.
Beyond these is another set of teachers, the Christs of the
world. These Teachers of all teachers represent God Himself in
the form of man. They are much higher; they can transmit
spirituality with a touch, with a wish, which makes even the
lowest and most degraded characters saints in one second. Do you
not read of how they used to do these things? They are not the
teachers about whom I was speaking; they are the Teachers of all
teachers, the greatest manifestations of God to man; we cannot
see God except through them. We cannot help worshipping them,
and they are the only beings we are bound to worship.
No man bath "seen" God but as He is manifested in the Son. We
cannot see God. If we try to see Him, we make a hideous
caricature of God. There is an Indian story that an ignorant man
was asked to make an image of the God Shiva, and after days of
struggle he made an image of a monkey. So whenever we attempt to
make an image of God, we make a caricature of Him, because we
cannot understand Him as anything higher than man so long as we
are men. The time will come when we transcend our human nature
and know Him as He is; but so long as we are men we must worship
Him in man. Talk as we may, try as we may, we cannot see God
except as a man. We may deliver great intellectual speeches,
become very great rationalists, and prove that these tales of
God as all nonsense, but let us come to practical common sense.
What is behind this remarkable intellect? Zero, nothing, simply
so much froth. When next you hear a man delivering great
intellectual lectures against this worship of God, get hold of
him and ask him what is his idea of God, what he means by
"omnipotence", and "omniscience", and "omnipresent love", and so
forth, beyond the spelling of the words. He means nothing, he
cannot formulate an idea, he is no better than the man in the
street who has not read a single book. That man in the street,
however, is quiet and does not disturb the world, while the
other man's arguments cause disturbance. He has no actual
perception, and both are on the same plane.
Religion is realisation, and you must make the sharpest
distinction between talk and realisation. What you perceive in
your soul is realisation. Man has no idea of the Spirit, he has
to think of it with the forms he has before him. He has to think
of the blue skies, or the expansive fields, or the sea, or
something huge. How else can you think of God? So what are you
doing in reality? You are talking of omnipresence, and thinking
of the sea. Is God the sea? A little more common sense is
required. Nothing is so uncommon as common sense, the world is
too full of talk. A truce to all this frothy argument of the
world. We are by our present constitution limited and bound to
see God as man. If the buffaloes want to worship God, they will
see Him as a huge buffalo. If a fish wants to worship God, it
will have to think of Him as a big fish. You and I, the buffalo,
the fish, each represents so many different vessels. All these
go to the sea to be filled with water according to the shape of
each vessel. In each of these vessels is nothing but water. So
with God. When men see Him, they see Him as man, and the animals
as animal - each according to his ideal. That is the only way
you can see Him; you have to worship Him as man, because there
is no other way out of it. Two classes of men do not worship God
as man - the human brute who has no religion, and the
Paramahamsa (highest Yogi) who has gone beyond humanity, who has
thrown off his mind and body and gone beyond the limits of
nature. All nature has become his Self. He has neither mind nor
body, and can worship God as God, as can a Jesus or a Buddha.
They did not worship God as man. The other extreme is the human
brute. You know how two extremes look alike. Similar is the case
with the extreme of ignorance and the other extreme of
knowledge; neither of these worships anybody. The extremely
ignorant do not worship God, not being developed enough to feel
the need for so doing. Those that have attained the highest
knowledge also do not worship God - having realised and become
one with God. God never worships God. Between these two poles of
existence, if anyone tells you he is not going to worship God as
man, take care of him. He is an irresponsible talker, he is
mistaken; his religion is for frothy thinkers, it is
intellectual nonsense.
Therefore it is absolutely necessary to worship God as man, and
blessed are those races which have such a "God-man" to worship.
Christians have such a God-man in Christ; therefore cling close
to Christ; never give up Christ. That is the natural way to see
God; see God in man. All our ideas of God are concentrated
there. The great limitation Christians have is that they do not
heed other manifestations of God besides Christ. He was a
manifestation of God; so was Buddha; so were some others, and
there will be hundreds of others. Do not limit God anywhere. Pay
all the reverence that you think is due to God, to Christ; that
is the only worship we can have. God cannot be worshipped; He is
the immanent Being of the universe. It is only to His
manifestation as man that we can pray. It would be a very good
plan, when Christians pray, to say, "in the name of Christ". It
would be wise to stop praying to God, and only pray to Christ.
God understands human failings and becomes a man to do good to
humanity. "Whenever virtue subsides and immorality prevails,
then I come to help mankind", says Krishna. He also says,
"Fools, not knowing that I, the Omnipotent and Omnipresent God
of the universe, have taken this human form, deride Me and think
that cannot be." Their minds have been clouded with demoniacal
ignorance, so they cannot see in Him the Lord of the universe.
These great Incarnations of God are to be worshipped. Not only
so, they alone can be worshipped; and on the days of their
birth, and on the days when they went out of this world, we
ought to pay more particular reverence to them. In worshipping
Christ I would rather worship Him just as He desires; on the day
of His birth I would rather worship Him by fasting than by
feasting - by praying. When these are thought of, these great
ones, they manifest themselves in our souls, and they make us
like unto them. Our whole nature changes, and we become like
them.
But you must not mix up Christ or Buddha with hobgoblins flying
through the air and all that sort of nonsense. Sacrilege! Christ
coming into a spiritualistic seance to dance! I have seen that
presence in this country. It is not in that way that these
manifestations of God come. The very touch of one of them will
be manifest upon a man; when Christ touches, the whole soul of
man will change, that man will be transfigured just as He was.
His whole life will be spiritualised; from every pore of his
body spiritual power will emanate. What were the great powers of
Christ in miracles and healing, in one of his character? They
were low, vulgar things that He could not help doing because He
was among vulgar beings. Where was this miracle-making done?
Among the Jews; and the Jews did not take Him. Where was it not
done? In Europe. The miracle-making went to the Jews, who
rejected Christ, and the Sermon on the Mount to Europe, which
accepted Him. The human spirit took on what was true and
rejected what was spurious. The great strength of Christ is not
in His miracles or His healing. Any fool could do those things.
Fools can heal others, devils can heal others. I have seen
horrible demoniacal men do wonderful miracles. They seem to
manufacture fruits out of the earth. I have known fools and
diabolical men tell the past, present, and future. I have seen
fools heal at a glance, by the will, the most horrible diseases.
These are powers, truly, but often demoniacal powers. The other
is the spiritual power of Christ which will live and always has
lived - an almighty, gigantic love, and the words of truth which
He preached. The action of healing men at a glance is forgotten,
but His saying, "Blessed are the pure in heart", that lives
today. These words are a gigantic magazine of power -
inexhaustible. So long as the human mind lasts, so long as the
name of God is not forgotten, these words will roll on and on
and never cease to be. These are the powers Jesus taught, and
the powers He had. The power of purity; it is a definite power.
So in worshipping Christ, in praying to Him, we must always
remember what we are seeking. Not those foolish things of
miraculous display, but the wonderful powers of the Spirit,
which make man free, give him control over the whole of nature,
take from him the badge of slavery, and show God unto him.
THE NEED OF SYMBOLS
Bhakti is divided into two portions. One is called Vaidhi,
formal or ceremonial; the other portion is called Mukhyâ,
supreme. The word Bhakti covers all the ground between the
lowest form of worship and the highest form of life. All the
worship that you have seen in any country in the world, or in
any religion, is regulated by love. There is a good deal that is
simple ceremony; there is also a good deal which, though not
ceremony, is still not love, but a lower state. Yet these
ceremonies are necessary. The external part of Bhakti is
absolutely necessary to help the soul onward. Man makes a great
mistake when he thinks that he can at once jump to the highest
state. If a baby thinks he is going to be an old man in a day,
he is mistaken; and I hope you will always bear in mind this one
ideal, that religion is neither in books, nor in intellectual
consent, nor in reasoning. Reason, theories, documents,
doctrines, books, religious ceremonies, are all helps to
religion: religion itself consists in realisation. We all say,
"There is a God." Have you seen God? That is the question. You
hear a man say, "There is God in heaven." You ask him if he has
seen Him, and if he says he has, you would laugh at him and say
he is a maniac. With most people religion is a sort of
intellectual assent and goes no further than a document. I would
not call it religion. It is better to be an atheist than to have
that sort of religion. Religion does not depend on our
intellectual assent or dissent. You say there is a soul. Have
you seen the soul? How is it we all have souls and do not see
them? You have to answer the question and find out the way to
see the soul. If not, it is useless to talk of religion. If any
religion is true, it must be able to show us the soul and show
us God and the truth in ourselves. If you and I fight for all
eternity about one of these doctrines or documents, we shall
never come to any conclusion. People have been fighting for
ages, and what is the outcome? Intellect cannot reach there at
all. We have to go beyond the intellect; the proof of religion
is in direct perception. The proof of the existence of this wall
is that we see it; if you sat down and argued about its
existence or non-existence for ages, you could never come to any
conclusion; but directly you see it, it is enough. If all the
men in the world told you it did not exist, you would not
believe them, because you know that the evidence of your own
eyes is superior to that of all the doctrines and documents in
the world.
To be religious, you have first to throw books overboard. The
less you read of books, the better for you; do one thing at a
time. It is a tendency in Western countries, in these modern
times, to make a hotchpotch of the brain; all sorts of
unassimilated ideas run riot in the brain and form a chaos
without ever obtaining a chance to settle down and crystallise
into a definite shape. In many cases it becomes a sort of
disease, but this is not religion. Then some want a sensation.
Tell them about ghosts and people coming from the North Pole or
any other remote place, with wings or in any other form, and
that they are invisibly present and watching over them, and make
them feel uncanny, then they are satisfied and go home; but
within twenty-four hours they are ready for a fresh sensation.
This is what some call religion. This is the way to the lunatic
asylum, and not to religion. The Lord is not to be reached by
the weak, and all these weird things tend to weakness. Therefore
go not near them; they only make people weak, bring disorder to
the brain, weaken the mind, demoralise the soul, and a hopeless
muddle is the result. You must bear in mind that religion does
not consist in talk, or doctrines, or books, but in realisation;
it is not learning, but being. Everybody knows, "Do not steal",
but what of it? That man has really known who has not stolen.
Everybody knows, "Do not injure others", but of what value is
it? Those who have not done so have realised it, they know it
and have built their character on it. Religion is realising; and
I will call you a worshipper of God when you have become able to
realise the Idea. Before that it is the spelling of the weird,
and no more. It is this power of realisation that makes
religion. No amount of doctrines or philosophies or ethical
books, that you may have stuffed into your brain, will matter
much, only what you are and what you have realised. So we have
to realise religion, and this realisation of religion is a long
process. When men hear of something very high and wonderful,
they all think they will get that, and never stop for a moment
to consider that they will have to work their way up to it; they
all want to jump there. If it is the highest, we are for it. We
never stop to consider whether we have the power, and the result
is that we do not do anything. You cannot take a man with a
pitchfork and push him up there; we all have to work up
gradually. Therefore the first part of religion is Vaidhi
Bhakti, the lower phase of worship.
What are these lower phases of worship? They are various. In
order to attain to the state where we can realise, we must pass
through the concrete - just as you see children learn through
the concrete first - and gradually come to the abstract. If you
tell a baby that five times two is ten, it will not understand;
but if you bring ten things and show how five times two is ten,
it will understand. Religion is a long, slow process. We are all
of us babies here; we may be old, and have studied all the books
in the universe, but we are all spiritual babies. We have learnt
the doctrines and dogmas, but realised nothing in our lives. We
shall have to begin now in the concrete, through forms and
words, prayers and ceremonies; and of these concrete forms there
will be thousands; one form need not be for everybody. Some may
be helped by images, some may not. Some require an image
outside, others one inside the brain. The man who puts it inside
says, "I am a superior man. When it is inside it is all right;
when it is outside, it is idolatry, I will fight it." When a man
puts an image in the form of a church or a temple, he thinks it
is holy; but when it is in a human form, he objects to it!
So there are various forms through which the mind will take this
concrete exercise; and then, step by step, we shall come to the
abstract understanding, abstract realisation. Again, the same
form is not for everyone; there is one form that will suit you,
and another will suit somebody else, and so on. All forms,
though leading to the same goal, may not be for all of us. Here
is another mistake we generally make. My ideal does not suit
you; and why should I force it on you? My fashion of building
churches or reading hymns does not suit you; why should I force
it on you? Go into the world and every fool will tell you that
his form is the only right one, that every other form is
diabolical, and he is the only chosen man ever born in the
universe. But in fact, all these forms are good and helpful.
Just as there are certain varieties in human nature, so it is
necessary that there should be an equal number of forms in
religion; and the more there are, the better for the world. If
there are twenty forms of religion in the world, it is very
good; if there are four hundred, so much the better - there will
be the more to choose from. So we should rather be glad when the
number of religions and religious ideas increase and multiply,
because they will then include every man and help mankind more.
Would to God that religions multiplied until every man had his
own religion, quite separate from that of any other! This is the
idea of the Bhakti-Yogi.
The final idea is that my religion cannot be yours, or yours
mine. Although the goal and the aim are the same, yet each one
has to take a different road, according to the tendencies of his
mind; and although these roads are various, they must all be
true, because they lead to the same goal. It cannot be that one
is true and the rest not. The choosing of one's own road is
called in the language of Bhakti, Ishta, the chosen way.
Then there are words. All of you have heard of the power of
words, how wonderful they are! Every book - the Bible, the
Koran, and the Vedas - is full of the power of words. Certain
words have wonderful power over mankind. Again, there are other
forms, known as symbols. Symbols have great influence on the
human mind. But great symbols in religion were not created
indefinitely. We find that they are the natural expressions of
thought. We think symbolically. All our words are but symbols of
the thought behind, and different people have come to use
different symbols without knowing the reason why. It was all
behind, and these symbols are associated with the thoughts; and
as the thought brings the symbol outside, so the symbol, on the
contrary, can bring the thought inside. So one portion of Bhakti
tells about these various subjects of symbols and words and
prayers. Every religion has prayers, but one thing you must bear
in mind - praying for health or wealth is not Bhakti, it is all
Karma or meritorious action. Praying for any physical gain is
simply Karma, such as a prayer for going to heaven and so forth.
One that wants to love God, to be a Bhakta, must discard all
such prayers. He who wants to enter the realms of light must
first give up this buying and selling this "shop keeping"
religion, and then enter the gates. It is not that you do not
get what you pray for; you get everything, but such praying is a
beggar's religion. "Foolish indeed is he who, living on the
banks of the Ganga, digs a little well for water. A fool indeed
is the man who, coming to a mine of diamonds, seeks for glass
beads." This body will die some time, so what is the use of
praying for its health again and again? What is there in health
and wealth? The wealthiest man can use and enjoy only a little
portion of his wealth. We can never get all the things of this
world; and if not, who cares? This body will go, who cares for
these things? If good things come, welcome; if they go away, let
them go. Blessed are they when they come, and blessed are they
when they go. We are striving to come into the presence of the
King of kings. We cannot get there in a beggar's dress. Even if
we wanted to enter the presence of an emperor, should we be
admitted? Certainly not. We should be driven out. This is the
Emperor of emperors, and in these beggar's rags we cannot enter.
Shopkeepers never have admission there; buying and selling have
no place there. As you read in the Bible, Jesus drove the buyers
and sellers out of the Temple. Do not pray for little things. If
you seek only bodily comforts, where is the difference between
men and animals? Think yourselves a little higher than that.
So it goes without saying that the first task in becoming a
Bhakta is to give up all desires of heaven and other things. The
question is how to get rid of these desires. What makes men
miserable? Because they are slaves, bound by laws, puppets in
the hand of nature, tumbled about like playthings. We are
continually taking care of this body that anything can knock
down; and so we are living in a constant state of fear. I have
read that a deer has to run on the average sixty or seventy
miles every day, because it is frightened. We ought to know that
we are in a worse plight than the deer. The deer has some rest,
but we have none. If the deer gets grass enough it is satisfied,
but we are always multiplying our wants. It is a morbid desire
with us to multiply our wants. We have become so unhinged and
unnatural that nothing natural will satisfy us. We are always
grasping after morbid things, must have unnatural excitement -
unnatural food, drink, surroundings, and life. As to fear, what
are our lives but bundles of fear? The deer has only one class
of fear, such as that from tigers, wolves, etc. Man has the
whole universe to fear.
How are we to free ourselves from this is the question.
Utilitarians say, "Don't talk of God and hereafter; we don't
know anything of these things, let us live happily in this
world." I would be the first to do so if we could, but the world
will not allow us. As long as you are a slave of nature, how can
you? The more you struggle, the more enveloped you become. You
have been devising plans to make you happy, I do not know for
how many years, but each year things seem to grow worse. Two
hundred years ago in the old world people had few wants; but if
their knowledge increased in arithmetical progression, their
wants increased in geometrical progression. We think that in
salvation at least our desires will be fulfilled, so we desire
to go to heaven. This eternal, unquenchable thirst! Always
wanting something! When a man is a beggar, he wants money. When
he has money, he wants other things, society; and after that,
something else. Never at rest. How are we to quench this? If we
get to heaven, it will only increase desire. If a poor man gets
rich, it does not quench his desires, it is only like throwing
butter on the fire, increasing its bright flames. Going to
heaven means becoming intensely richer, and then desire comes
more and more. We read of many human things in heaven in the
different Bibles of the world; they are not always very good
there; and after all, this desire to go to heaven is a desire
after enjoyment. This has to be given up. It is too little, too
vulgar a thing for you to think of going to heaven. It is just
the same as thinking, I will become a millionaire and lord it
over people. There are many of these heavens, but through them
you cannot gain the right to enter the gates of religion and
love.
THE CHIEF SYMBOLS
There are two Sanskrit words, Pratika and Pratimâ. Pratika means
coming towards, nearing. In all countries you find various
grades of worship. In this country, for instance, there are
people who worship images of saints, there are people who
worship certain forms and symbols. Then there are people who
worship different beings who are higher than men, and their
number is increasing very rapidly - worshippers of departed
spirits. I read that there are something like eight millions of
them here. Then there are other people who worship certain
beings of higher grade - the angels, the gods, and so forth.
Bhakti-Yoga does not condemn any one of these various grades,
but they are all classed under one name, Pratika. These people
are not worshipping God, but Pratika, something which is near, a
step towards God. This Pratika worship cannot lead us to
salvation and freedom; it can only give us certain particular
things for which we worship them. For instance, if a man
worships his departed ancestors or departed friends, he may get
certain powers or certain information from them. Any particular
gift that is got from these objects of worship is called Vidyâ,
particular knowledge; but freedom, the highest aim, comes only
by worship of God Himself. Some Orientalists think, in
expounding the Vedas, that even the Personal God Himself is a
Pratika. The Personal God may be a Pratika, but the Pratikas are
neither the Personal nor Impersonal God. They cannot be
worshipped as God. So it would be a great mistake if people
thought that by worshipping these different Pratikas, either as
angels, or ancestors, or Mahâtmâs (holy men, saints), etc., or
departed spirits, they could ever reach to freedom. At best they
can only reach to certain powers, but God alone can make us
free. But because of that they are not to be condemned, their
worship produces some result. The man who does not understand
anything higher may get some power, some enjoyment, by the
worship of these Pratikas; and after a long course of
experience, when he will be ready to come to freedom, he will of
his own accord give up the Pratikas.
Of these various Pratikas the most prevalent form is the worship
of departed friends. Human nature - personal love, love for our
friends - is so strong in us that when they die, we wish to see
them once more - clinging on to their forms. We forget that
these forms while living were constantly changing, and when they
die, we think they become constant, and that we shall see them
so. Not only so, but if I have a friend or a son who has been a
scoundrel, as soon as he dies, I begin to think he is the
saintliest person in existence; he becomes a god. There are
people in India who, if a baby dies, do not burn it, but bury it
and build a temple over it; and that little baby becomes the god
of that temple. This is a very prevalent form of religion in
many countries, and there are not wanting philosophers who think
this has been the origin of all religions. Of course they cannot
prove it. We must remember, however, that this worship of
Pratikas can never bring us to salvation or to freedom.
Secondly, it is very dangerous. The danger is that these
Pratikas, "nearing-stages", so far as they lead us on to a
further stage, are all right; but the chances are ninety-nine to
one that we shall stick to the Pratikas all our lives. It is
very good to be born in a church, but it is very bad to die
there. To make it clearer, it is very good to be born in a
certain sect and have its training - it brings out our higher
qualities; but in the vast majority of cases we die in that
little sect, we never come out or grow. That is the great danger
of all these worships of Pratikas. One says that these are all
stages which one has to pass, but one never gets out of them;
and when one becomes old, one still sticks to them. If a young
man does not go to church, he ought to be condemned. But if an
old man goes to church, he also ought to be condemned; he has no
business with this child's play anymore; the church should have
been merely a preparation for something higher. What business
has he any more with forms and Pratikas and all these
preliminaries?
Book worship is another strong form of this Pratika, the
strongest form. You find in every country that the book becomes
the God. There are sects in my country who believe that God
incarnates and becomes man, but even God incarnate as man must
conform to the Vedas, and if His teachings do not so conform,
they will not take Him. Buddha is worshipped by the Hindus, but
if you say to them, "If you worship Buddha, why don't you take
His teachings?" they will say, because they, the Buddhists, deny
the Vedas. Such is the meaning of book worship. Any number of
lies in the name of a religious book are all right. In India if
I want to teach anything new, and simply state it on my own
authority, as what I think, nobody will come to listen to me;
but if I take some passage from the Vedas, and juggle with it,
and give it the most impossible meaning, murder everything that
is reasonable in it, and bring out my own ideas as the ideas
that were meant by the Vedas, all the fools will follow me in a
crowd. Then there are men preaching a sort of Christianity that
would frighten the ordinary Christian out of his wits; but they
say, "This is what Jesus Christ meant", and many come round
them. People do not want anything new, if it is not in the Vedas
or the Bible It is a case of nerves: when you hear a new and
striking thing, you are startled; or when you see a new thing,
you are startled; it is constitutional. It is much more so with
thoughts. The mind has been running in ruts, and to take up a
new idea is too much of a strain; so the idea has to be put near
the ruts, and then we slowly take it. It is a good policy, but
bad morality. Think of the mass of incongruities that reformers,
and what you call the liberal preachers, pour into society
today. According to Christian Scientists, Jesus was a great
healer; according to the Spiritualists, He was a great psychic;
according to the Theosophists, He was a Mahâtmâ. All these have
to be deduced from the same text. There is a text in the Vedas
which says, "Existence (Sat) alone existed, O beloved, nothing
else existed in the beginning". Many different meanings are
given to the word Sat in this text. The Atomists say the word
meant "atoms", and out of these atoms the world has been
produced. The Naturalists say it meant "nature", and out of
nature everything has come. The Shunyavâdins (maintainers of the
Void) say it meant "nothing", "zero", and out of nothing
everything has been produced. The Theists say it meant "God",
and the Advaitists say it was "Absolute Existence", and all
refer to the same text as their authority.
These are the defects of book worship. But there is, on the
other hand, a great advantage in it: it gives strength. All
religious sects have disappeared excepting those that have a
book. Nothing seems to kill them. Some of you have heard of the
Parsees. They were the ancient Persians, and at one time there
were about a hundred millions of them. The majority of them were
conquered by the Arabs, and converted to Mohammedanism. A
handful fled from their persecutors with their book, which is
still preserving them. A book is the most tangible form of God.
Think of the Jews; if they had not had a book, they would have
simply melted into the world. But that keeps them up; the Talmud
keeps them together, in spite of the most horrible persecution.
One of the great advantages of a book is that it crystallises
everything in tangible and convenient form, and is the handiest
of all idols. Just put a book on an altar and everyone sees it;
a good book everyone reads. I am afraid I may be considered
partial. But, in my opinion books have produced more evil than
good. They are accountable for many mischievous doctrines.
Creeds all come from books, and books are alone responsible for
the persecution and fanaticism in the world. Books in modern
times are making liars everywhere. I am astonished at the number
of liars abroad in every country.
The next thing to be considered is the Pratima, or image, the
use of images. All over the world you will find images in some
form or other. With some, it is in the form of a man, which is
the best form. If I wanted to worship an image I would rather
have it in the form of a man than of an animal, or building, or
any other form. One sect thinks a certain form is the right sort
of image, and another thinks it is bad. The Christian thinks
that when God came in the form of a dove it was all right, but
if He comes in the form of a fish, as the Hindus say, it is very
wrong and superstitious. The Jews think if an idol be made in
the form of a chest with two angels sitting on it, and a book on
it, it is all right, but if it is in the form of a man or a
woman, it is awful. The Mohammedans think that when they pray,
if they try to form a mental image of the temple with the Caaba,
the black stone in it, and turn towards the west, it is all
right, but if you form the image in the shape of a church it is
idolatry. This is the defect of image-worship. Yet all these
seem to be necessary stages.
In this matter it is of supreme importance to think what we
ourselves believe. What we have realised, is the question. What
Jesus, or Buddha, or Moses did is nothing to us, unless we too
do it for ourselves. It would not satisfy our hunger to shut
ourselves up in a room and think of what Moses ate, nor would
what Moses thought save us. My ideas are very radical on these
points. Sometimes I think that I am right when I agree with all
the ancient teachers, at other times I think they are right when
they agree with me. I believe in thinking independently. I
believe in becoming entirely free from the holy teachers; pay
all reverence to them, but look at religion as an independent
research. I have to find my light, just as they found theirs.
Their finding the light will not satisfy us at all. You have to
become the Bible, and not to follow it, excepting as paying
reverence to it as a light on the way, as a guide-post, a mark:
that is all the value it has. But these images and other things
are quite necessary. You may try to concentrate your mind, or
even to project any thought. You will find that you naturally
form images in your mind. You cannot help it. Two sorts of
persons never require any image - the human animal who never
thinks of any religion, and the perfected being who has passed
through these stages. Between these two points all of us require
some sort of ideal, outside and inside. It may be in the form of
a departed human being, or of a living man or woman. This is
clinging to personality and bodies, and is quite natural. We are
prone to concretise. How could we be here if we did not
concretise? We are concreted spirits, and so we find ourselves
here on this earth. Concretisation has brought us here, and it
will take us out. Going after things of the senses has made us
human beings, and we are bound to worship personal beings,
whatever we may say to the contrary. It is very easy to say
"Don't be personal"; but the same man who says so is generally
most personal. His attachment for particular men and women is
very strong; it does not leave him when they die, he wants to
follow them beyond death. That is idolatry; it is the seed, the
very cause of idolatry; and the cause being there it will come
out in some form. Is it not better to have a personal attachment
to an image of Christ or Buddha than to an ordinary man or
woman? In the West, people say that it is bad to kneel before
images, but they can kneel before a woman and say, "You are my
life, the light of my eyes, my soul." That is worse idolatry.
What ifs this talk about my soul my life? It will soon go away.
It is only sense-attachment. It is selfish love covered by a
mass of flowers. Poets give it a good name and throw
lavender-water and all sorts of attractive things over it. Is it
not better to kneel before a statue of Buddha or the Jina
conqueror and say, "Thou art my life"? I would rather do that.
There is another sort of Pratika which is not recognised in
Western countries, bout is taught in our books. This teaches the
worship of mind as God. Anything that is worshipped as God is a
stage, a nearing, as it were. An example of this is the method
of showing the fine star known as Arundhati, near the group
Pleiades. One is shown a big star near to it, and when he has
fixed his attention on this and has come to know it, he is shown
a finer and still nearer star; and when he has fixed his
attention on that, he is led up to Arundhati. So all these
various Pratikas and Pratimas lead to God. The worship of Buddha
and of Christ constitute a Pratika. a drawing near to the
worship of God. But this worship of Buddha and of Christ will
not save a man, he must go beyond them to Him who manifested
Himself as Jesus Christ, for God alone can give us freedom.
There are even some philosophers who say these should he
regarded as God; they are not Pratikas, but God Himself.
However, we can take all these different Pratikas, these
different stages of approach, and not be hurt by them: but if we
think while we are worshipping them that we are worshipping God,
we are mistaken. If a man worships Jesus Christ, and thinks he
will be saved by that, he is mistaken entirely. If a man thinks
that by worshipping an idol or the ghosts or spirits of the
departed he will be saved, he is entirely mistaken. We may
worship anything by seeing God in it, if we can forget the idol
and see God there. We must not project any image upon God. But
we may fill any image with that Life which is God. Only forget
the image, and you are right enough - for "Out of Him comes
everything". He is everything. We may worship a picture as God,
but not God as the picture. God in the picture is right, but the
picture as God is wrong. God in the image is perfectly right.
There is no danger there. This is the real worship of God. But
the image-God is a mere Pratika.
The next great thing to consider in Bhakti is the "word", the
Nâmashakti, the power of the name. The whole universe is
composed of name and form. Whatever we see is either a compound
of name and form, or simply name with form which is a mental
image. So, after all, there is nothing that is not name and
form. We all believe God to be without form or shape, but as
soon as we begin to think of Him, He acquires both name and form
The Chitta is like the calm lake, thoughts being like waves upon
this Chitta - and name and form are the normal ways in which
these waves arise; no wave can rise without name and form. The
uniform cannot be thought of; it is beyond thought; as soon as
it becomes thought and matter, it must have name and form. We
cannot separate these. It is said in many books that God created
the universe out of the Word. Shabda Brahman, in Sanskrit, is
the Christian theory of the Word. An old Indian theory, it was
taken to Alexandria by Indian preachers and was planted there.
Thus the idea of the Word and the Incarnation became fixed
there.
There is deep meaning in the thought that God created everything
out of the Word. God Himself being formless, this is the best
way to describe the projection of forms, or the creation. The
Sanskrit word for creation is Srishti, projection. What is meant
by "God created things out of nothing"? The universe is
projected out of God. He becomes the universe, and it all
returns to Him, and again it proceeds forth, and again returns.
Through all eternity it will go on in that way. We have seen
that the projection of anything in the mind cannot be without
name and form. Suppose the mind to be perfectly calm, entirely
without thought; nevertheless, as soon as thought begins to rise
it will immediately take name and form. Every thought has a
certain name and a certain form. In the same way the very fact
of creation, the very fact of projection is eternally connected
with name and form. Thus we find that every idea that man has,
or can have, must be connected with a certain name or word as
its counterpart. This being so, it is quite natural to suppose
that this universe is the outcome of mind, just as your body is
the outcome of your idea - your idea, as it were, made concrete
and externalised. If it be true, moreover, that the whole
universe is built on the same plan, then, if you know the manner
in which one atom is built, you can understand how the whole
universe is built. If it is true that in you, the body forms the
gross part outside and the mind forms the fine part inside, and
both are eternally inseparable, then, when you cease to have the
body, you will cease to have the mind also. When a man's brain
is disturbed, his ideas also get disturbed, because they are but
one, the finer and the grosser parts. There are not two such
things as matter and mind. As in a high column of air there are
dense and rarefied strata of one and the same element air, so it
is with the body; it is one thing throughout, layer on layer,
from grosser to finer. Again, the body is like the finger nails.
As these continue growing even when they are cut, so from our
subtle ideas grows body after body. The finer a thing the more
persistent it is; we find that always. The grosser it is the
less persistent. Thus, form is the grosser and name the finer
state of a single manifesting power called thought. But these
three are one; it is the Unity and the Trinity, the three
degrees of existence of the same thing. Finer, more condensed,
and most condensed. Wherever the one is, the others are there
also. Wherever name is, there is form and thought.
It naturally follows that if the universe is built upon the same
plan as the body, the universe also must have the same divisions
of form, name, and thought. The "thought" is the finest part of
the universe, the real motive power. The thought behind our body
is called soul, and the thought behind the universe is called
God. Then after that is the name, and last of all is the form
which we see and feel. For instance, you are a particular
person, a little universe in this universe, a body with a
particular form; then behind that a name, John or Jane, and
behind that again a thought; similarly there is this whole
universe, and behind that is the name, what is called the "Word"
in all religions, and behind that is God. The universal thought
is Mahat, as the Sânkhyas call it, universal consciousness. What
is that name? There must be some name. The world is homogeneous,
and modern science shows beyond doubt that each atom is composed
of the same material as the whole universe. If you know one lump
of clay you know the whole universe. Man is the most
representative being in the universe, the microcosm, a small
universe in himself. So in man we find there is the form, behind
that the name, and behind that the thought, the thinking being.
So this universe must be on exactly the same plan. The question
is: What is that name? According to the Hindus that word is Om.
The old Egyptians also believed that. The Katha Upanishad says,
"That, seeking which a man practices Brahmacharya, I will tell
you in short what that is, that is Om. ... This is Brahman, the
Immutable One, and is the highest; knowing this Immutable One,
whatever one desires one gets."
This Om stands for the name of the whole universe, or God.
Standing midway between the external world and God, it
represents both. But then we can take the universe piecemeal,
according to the different senses, as touch, as colour, as
taste, and in various other ways. In each case we can make of
this universe millions of universes from different standpoints,
each of which will be a complete universe by itself, and each
one will have a name, and a form, and a thought behind. These
thoughts behind are Pratikas. Each of them has a name. These
names of sacred symbols are used in Bhakti-Yoga. They have
almost infinite power. Simply by repetition of these words we
can get anything we desire, we can come to perfection. But two
things are necessary. "The teacher must be wonderful, so also
must be the taught", says the Katha Upanishad. Such a name must
come from a person to whom it has descended through right
succession. From master to disciple, the spiritual current has
been coming; from ancient times, bearing its power. The person
from whom such a word comes is called a Guru, and the person to
whom it goes is called Shishya, the disciple. When the word has
been received in the regular way, and when it has been repeated,
much advance has been made in Bhakti-Yoga. Simply by the
repetition of that word will come even the highest state of
Bhakti. "Thou hast so many names. Thou understandest what is
meant by them all these names are Thine, and in each is Thine
infinite power; there is neither time nor place for repeating
these names, for all times and places are holy. Thou art so
easy, Thou art so merciful, how unfortunate am I, that I have no
love for Thee!"