Self-Realization: Church of All Religions! It's for Everyone!

Paramhansa Yogananda, author of "Autobiography of a Yogi," called his work a "Church of All Religions." It is a curious phrase because it implies a gathering of different churches under one roof, but that's not what he meant. Instead, Yogananda's teachings emphasize that the underlying goal of religion is to achieve Self-realization. When asked whether he was establishing a new religion Yogananda's reply was "It is a new expression." A new expression of that truth which is one and eternal, described in Sanskrit as sanatan dharma. 

Yogananda predicted that some day the goal of Self-realization would unite all religions. This does not suggest a new Catholic Church since the very nature of Self-realization is individual. Groups don't achieve Self-realization: individuals do. The meaning intended is that someday truth-seeking devotees would come to seek God by direct, intuitive inner perception. Jesus Christ put it well and simply: "The kingdom of heaven is within you." Meditation is the primary means for such a direct, spiritual perception. It was taught by Yogananda and is taught throughout the world by many teachers and traditions. The rapid spread of meditation in the twenty-first century more than hints at the truth of Yogananda's words.

Yogananda insisted that his was not a sect. From a historical or social point of view, organizations or groups founded to learn, share and practice Yogananda's teachings cannot but be viewed as sects. It seems obvious that he must have meant that the very nature of what he taught could not be (or should not be) sectarian! 

[A side note to the term Self-realization is found in the name of the organization he established with the addition of the word "Fellowship." In this simple fact Yogananda acknowledges the two great commandments of the Old Testament that Jesus Christ quoted when asked to summarize his teachings: love God and love thy neighbor as thyself. Thus Yogananda was suggesting that an individual seeking Self-realization would do well to share that journey with others in divine fellowship. But, I digress.]

In the July-September 1942 edition of Yogananda's magazine "Inner Culture," he writes about the newly created church in Hollywood that he called the "Self-Realization Church of All Religions."

At the time, he had a pulpit set up on the dais that symbolized all religions. It was opposite the pulpit that he and his ministers used. In the article Yogananda wrote he asks: "If our Father is One, then even though we may worship Him in different churches, why should we worship Him divided in spirit? Let us worship Him in oneness of brotherly spirit in Churches of All Religions, founded for the purpose of realizing God, not through belief, but through our Self's experience, by true devotion and meditation." He prayed that this new church of all religions "will help remove the dark shadows of ignorant division existing in many churches." Yogananda hoped that his church of all religions could inspire others to append this phrase ("Church of All Religions") to their name  to indicate unity in the worship of the one God. 

The truth in all religions to which he alludes is that each of us, individually, must return to our own inner center wherein divinity resides. Many have noted that Yogananda gave special emphasis to the teachings of Krishna and Jesus Christ. He did not expound upon other religions. One reason for his choice was that Jesus and Krishna (the latter in the reincarnated form of Babaji) are part of his spiritual lineage. But he was also emphasizing the "essence" of all religions and having shown the way for the teachings of these two great world teachers, it is not difficult to apply his insights to other great faiths. Put another way, Yogananda showed the essential oneness of truth itself, apart from its many and diverse forms, beliefs, histories, and rituals. God, the eternal Self, pervades the entire universe.

It cannot be denied, however, that the phrase "church of all religions" is too easily misunderstood. It would seem to suggest that any particular church with that in its name would be a kind of interfaith church where different faith traditions are practiced and acknowledged. Yogananda never did invite ministers of other faiths to use that pulpit in the Hollywood church. Very few ministers of other faiths during his lifetime, and even now, would use that pulpit except to declare the benefits and primacy of their own, "true" faith. Yogananda did not intend to teach syncretism for that would be skimming the surface. His goal was to identify the singular wellspring of wisdom out of which religion springs.

It strikes me that perhaps a clearer phrase could be "Church of the Eternal Religion." Unfortunately, this may not be an improvement because being in the singular suggests a specific sect and might even sound boastful.Yogananda's phrase points more directly at his intention: to suggest that all churches have something in common.

In the sanctuaries of the Blue Lotus Temple in Bothell, WA and the Temple of Light at Ananda Village near Nevada City, are symbols of the different major religions on the surrounding walls.

While these temples are dedicated to the teachings and lineage of Yogananda they yet affirm by these symbols the universality that Yogananda intended.

Yogananda's teachings are like a wheel: the hub at the center is Self-realization (union with God) through devotion, service and spiritual practice. The spokes of this wheel are the ways in which we "love thy neighbor" by bringing our ideals into creative and serviceful expression in daily life. Yogananda gave countless lectures and classes on success in business; marriage and relationships; vegetarianism; health; yoga postures; meditation for everyone; world trade and politics; future trends and predictions; and much more. 

Swami Kriyananda, founder of the worldwide work of Ananda and personally trained by Yogananda, followed in Yogananda's footsteps with some 150 books on all manner of subjects; he wrote music and chants; founded intentional communities following Yogananda's prediction of their future spread; and established schools for children and centers for meditation and yoga.

I think it is important for followers of Yogananda who seek to share his teachings to recall that he, and later, Swami Kriyananda, did not limit their teachings to disciples of Yogananda's lineage. Yogananda is a world teacher for our age and he offers practical solutions to the great challenges of our times. Even in respect to meditation, the central hub of his teachings, he taught meditation and universal spiritual teachings for all sincere seekers, not just disciples. His book of "prayer-demands," "Whispers from Eternity," contains a lifetime of inspiration for anyone who is sincere. The universality of his spiritual teachings he called Raja Yoga, following the tradition of yoga based on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali and the Bhagavad Gita. 

Ananda worldwide emphasizes Yogananda's teachings for "everyone" through portals such as the Ananda School of Yoga and Meditation (Expanding Light Retreat, CA); Yogananda Academy of Europe; and the Institute of Living Yoga (Seattle, WA). These and other Ananda centers offer to all students teacher certifications in yoga and meditation. Countless programs on a range of how-to-live subjects are offered through the various Ananda centers. Such programs are increasingly being made available in virtual form on the internet.

Yogananda taught a "mindfulness meditation" decades before mindfulness achieved the widespread acclaim it enjoys now in the twenty-first century. The practice of observing the breath in synchronization with a silent mantra or affirmation didn't come from him because it comes to us from ancient times and is found throughout the world in one form or another. 

The technique he taught is termed "Hong Sau" after the mantra that is used. In the delightful story of the Pilgrim's Way, the Jesus prayer is used in synchronization with the breath also. There are other examples in various faith traditions that tell us that watching the breath with silent prayer is both ancient and universal. It is natural and effective for internalizing one's awareness.

Yogananda created a series of thirty-nine standing exercises which are also synchronized with the breath. These can be used as a prelude to sitting for meditation or independently, as a form of exercise. These exercises came to be known as the Energization Exercises and they can be found on YouTube. The basic idea is to alternate tensing a muscle (or a group of muscles) as you inhale and then exhale as you relax the muscle. 

Meditation and yoga have long been known to benefit everyone, regardless of belief or religious affiliation: even atheists. Teachers routinely note that some students whose initial interest was only for physical or mental benefits have an awakening of higher aspirations and awareness. Swami Kriyananda used an expression that Ananda teachers find helpful: "Prana (energy) has its own intelligence." The practice of yoga and meditation allows the practitioner to become more aware of the intelligent, vibrant energy that animates the physical form. This energy, called "prana" or "chi" in the orient, communicates a sense of well-being, peace, and joy as it distributes its natural vitality throughout the body and nervous system. The first step is to become aware of this energy and that awareness, by repeated practice, comes under one's conscious control.

In teaching the Hong Sau meditation technique and the Energization Exercises, together with his writings and classes on various "how-to-live" topics, Yogananda was addressing the needs of many people. He was content to have people of all faiths or no faith benefit by these practices.

I wonder if he foresaw the swelling tide of seekers who describe themselves as "spiritual not religious?" Or the growing number of people, otherwise sincere, who are challenged by the word "God," or "church?" During his life, these trends were not so visible. The use of the term "church" was, at that time, natural and appropriate. The fact that Yogananda offered the core concepts of self-awareness and energy awareness to the public at large and not just those who were followers suggests that he saw his life's work in the broadest possible terms. Those of us who would serve that work should do so likewise.

Because the "church" word can be problematic to the growing numbers of yoga students, Ananda has experimented in the past with alternate terms, the most popular of which was, for a time, "mandir." Mandir is a Sanskrit term for a building that is essentially a church or, more precisely, the place of the dwelling of God. (One's body might also be termed a "mandir.") But unfamiliarity with the term made it clumsy so, instead, the term "temple" has been used more often in recent years.

Might we consider the use of the term "Temple of All Religions" or "Temple of the Eternal Religion?" One term that has come into use is the "Temple of Light." This is the name of two of the three eight-sided, blue-tiled domes (hemisphere) that now exist: the first in Italy; the second, near Seattle, and the third at Ananda Village in northern California. (Near Seattle the dome is called the Blue Lotus Temple.) This is a intriguing alternative to "church of all religions" because "Light" is itself universally a symbol used by all religions. However, the word "temple" refers only to a building while "church" can be both a building and a congregation or fellowship.

As an aside, another experiment at Ananda worldwide has been to call the fellowship of members, students or supporters the "Sangha:" a Sanskrit term used by Hindus and Buddhists. But, like the word "mandir," it is less familiar to the public at large and we have too often felt to default to the term "church" because it is more familiar in the West and to the various government agencies we have to deal with.

It is the sectarian consciousness associated with "church" that is the issue. Yogananda railed against what he called "churchianity" -- the process by which organizational consciousness eventually eclipses the inspiration of its founder and true devotees. In the West we remain suffused in corporate and organizational consciousness. But both organization and inspiration are needed. Yogananda called the organization the "hive" and the inspiration and God-contact the "honey." The devotees bees create the hive wherein they can come together to sip and share the the nectar of inner peace. Unfortunately, the history of religion shows us the temptation we have to succumb to the former and lose touch with the latter.

But it's not just organizational consciousness: it's sectarianism. Even yogis can be fundamentalists because rigidity and dogmatism can manifest in the consciousness of anyone. I've heard that one international group of Krishna devotees insisted that because the Bhagavad Gita says one's meditation seat should have kusha grass then one cannot meditate unless you can get some kusha grass!

Historically, clergy, monks, nuns, Swami's and Abbots have been given power, prestige, status and even wealth. What arises all too easily is pride of position; in short, egotism. And then there's what I call the holier-than-thou-syndrome. We see it in the running baiting of Jesus Christ by the those rascal Pharisees. In the case of the Pharisees, their "holiness" consisted of nothing more profound than a hypocritical obedience to minor purity and ritual laws at the expense of true devotion. But even sincerely devotional people can fall into narrowness, insisting that their Jesus or Krishna is the only way, or, that any other aspect of the spiritual path beyond devotion is somehow "less than." Spiritual growth cannot be defined outwardly but surely it includes a growing expansiveness of awareness: one that includes the reality of others as manifestations of God.

The words we use are important but more important than these is the degree to which we sincerely strive to be channels for the inspiration to which we have been drawn. The real temple, ultimately, is our soul, surrounded by our physical form, and our feeling and perceptive bodies. In the far distant future, when perhaps a golden age of higher awareness dawns, the need for temples will vanish but for now and, until then, we need places and symbols for that higher state of consciousness. We also need one another in service, fellowship and devotion. Let our body-temples be churches of all religions seeking the One Father-Mother, Friend, Beloved God. Let this temple embrace all humanity, all Life.

Blessings of light and freedom to all,

Swami Hrimananda

St. Francis Walks On Ahead....

In the last article we left off visiting the little chapel, the Porziuncula, near the town of Assisi. The two other primary sacred places we visited where the hillside caves of Eremo delle Carceri, sometimes pronounced L'Eremo, and, the church of Santa Chiara.

I went twice to L'Eremo. It's up the steep hillside of Mt. Subasio, accessed quite near the north gate of the town of Assisi (the gate whose road leads uphill towards the Ananda Center and Community). It's so high up that you look down on La Rocca, the stronghold and fort that towers over Assisi.

L'Eremo was one of the places for prayer and retreat that St. Francis and his brothers used. There are rock formations and mini-caves that the brothers used. The still existing dens are marked with signs showing which of the famous brothers used which cave. Now there's a complex of stone buildings, of course, but the whole area is saturated with vibrations of peace and light. It's heavily wooded but over time there are paths, but once off the mostly level main boulevard walking path, the paths down into the canyon and to the stone huts and caves are very real hiking paths.

It is incredibly peaceful there and much easier to meditate for long periods, uninterruptedly, than anywhere else. There are surprisingly many people who stroll the grounds as the place is famous but if you don't mind a few people walking past you while you are meditating (and you stay off the main, wide walking path), it's really worth it. Here, for this article, words fail to convey the intensity in meditation and the joy I felt there. I have some pictures, but they, too, fall rather short of the mark.

Let's simply say that for those who are serious about prayer and meditation, L'Eremo is a MUST.

This blog system is not picture friendly, so I'll just plop some down right here:

   

The other spiritual hotspot is the church, Santa Chiara. It has two distinct features: St. Clare's body lies "in state" there, and, the cross (originally from San Damiano) that "spoke" to Francis is displayed there. This church is normally crowded but if you're lucky you can hit a quiet moment. The line down to the tomb can long, hot, and slow and you get a few seconds to look at the body on display. If you step back out of the line you can stand there a few minutes to pray if you like, but you're likely to get bumped.

Upstairs in a side chapel hangs the special cross and it's easier to sit in a pew there and pray and meditate, though there's plenty of movement all around you. I enjoyed going there twice but I didn't stay very long though I certainly felt uplifted. I lucked out on my second visit and the place was virtually empty. I rushed downstairs and prayer before the body without being hassled. I prayed for the strength and purity of intention and resolution that Clare so obviously radiated and felt very uplifted.

Across the main plaza tourists frequently visit the ancient Minerva Temple from Roman times. It was long since converted into a church. I can't say there's any super-special vibration there but it certainly is beautiful, artistically-wise. I did sit and meditate for a few minutes and it is very peaceful in there. It was, of course, there during Francis' life and so I assume he prayed there, too.

Wandering the streets of Assisi is a trip in time and space itself. Enjoying a meal, a coffee, or a gelato along the ancient narrow cobblestone streets is well worth it. A few photos to share which include the Minerva Temple/Church inside and out.

    

I want now to share with you the inspiration felt at Ananda itself: high above the town of Assisi. When members of Ananda visit another Ananda community outside America (say, Italy or India) one discovers that even if we don't speak the same language, you feel instantly at home. The Temple of Light is where most meditations take place and we participated in various ones, plus a Sunday Service, plus Padma and I "officiated" at a marriage vow renewal ceremony for two of our pilgrim friends. Here one can meditate without the cross-currents of tourists and the vibrations of others, even in prayer, for the vibration of Catholicism is very strong in Italy. So here, at Ananda, we were truly at home and uplifted in the vibration of kriya yoga, Self-realization and our guru, Paramhansa Yogananda.

The absolute highlight, meditation-wise, however is the former home of Swami Kriyananda. It's about a kilometer from the main Ananda Il Refugio complex and just off the road along a tiny tree-lined lane. This is where he lived, sometimes many months at a time, and, where he died, April 21, 2013. In his bedroom and on his bed is the robe he was wearing the morning he left his body. His tiny meditation room is just off the bedroom, as is, of course the adjacent living room and dining room. It is all lovingly preserved the way it was on that day in April. He named his home, "Seva Kutir." This is Sanskrit and means roughly "A Home Dedicated to Divine Service."

I believe we had four meditations there. We'd take turns being in the bedroom or in the living room. It is here that the unique and heartfelt vibrations of our chosen spiritual path and line of preceptors can be felt most strongly and purely, especially in the form of calm, clear joy. Some pictures below:

   Next stop: the hilltop retreat of St. Francis: La Verna!

St. Francis - Ahead of His Time, and Still Here!

Wednesday, October 8, we arrived by train from Florence to Bastia, one train stop short of the town of Assisi, Italy. Rented vans took us "up the hill:" around the outer periphery of the charming and beautiful town of Assisi, and out the "north gate" at the top of the town. The road, SS 444, winds its way up the hills that coalesce into a mountain, around and behind Mt. Subasio upon whose western flank the town of Assisi clings.

The terrain is eerily reminiscent of the Sierra Nevada foothills around Nevada City/Grass Valley, CA where the first Ananda community was established. Night was falling as we climbed higher and higher up the mountain. At the top, the road levels off, though still curving around, before descending the other side into another valley. Along the ridge, then, sits Ananda Assisi: a retreat center and intentional community, with affiliated businesses (both community and personal) and private homes strung along SS444 in both directions.

The central feature and gathering place for Ananda Assisi is the former hotel building, Il Refugio. Here guest registration takes place; a book and gift store exists, guest rooms on several floors, an outdoor cafe and gazebo, ancillary administration bungalows, and the main feature, though hidden from the road, is the Temple of Light where meditations and classes are held.

We arrived for a late dinner which is taken in silence until about half way through. Announcements are made in Italian, with some concessions made for groups our size for English speakers, and other languages (Russian and German, esp.) as required. Peruse, if you like, www.Ananda.it.

After dinner, our vans took us further along the road (what, less than one mile?), to our accommodations: a rented facility called Il Ritero ("the retreat"). On both sides of the main two story rock building, are strip-like hotel bungalows (four or five simple units in one "strip"). These housed most of us. They are clean and simple. Bathrooms there are curious: when you shower it wets the entire bathroom, toilet, bidet, sink, your stuff.....everything! Not sure why this cultural nuance, but it seems pervasive and tenacious, all reason and convenience aside.

Padma and I were housed in a lovely little duplex a few hundred yards from the main center and across the street. Two or three others were even closer in a large 3-story building named "Brindaban" (the name of the town in India where Krishna lived).

The next morning, Thursday, a weekly 3-hour meditation took place (and every week) beginning at 6 a.m. It's followed by breakfast in silence. Bread, toast, fruit, oatmeal, butter, peanut butter, and jam, with tea and coffee and milk, comprise the typical fare. We got pancakes that morning, as I recall, in addition!

The rolling hills of Umbria alternate forested areas with areas of cultivation and pasture. In the Fall, hunters emerge from towns in the region to hunt. Thing is, they bring their own birds in cages; let them loose, and then, in manly fashion, shoot them. Retrieved by their ever faithful hounds, they, no doubt, return home proudly displaying their courage and skills.

With or without seasonal hunters, the hills are alive with beauty and serenity. There can be no doubt that St. Francis and his band of brothers walked these hills chanting God's name. There is no doubt that this land is blessed by the descent of grace into human form. It lingers in the soft breezes, in the warm sunshine, in the flashes of lightening and the crashing of  thunder, in the powder blue and happy yellow flowers that spring up on their own all around, and in the deep silence of the still night air.

In May, red poppies appear and populate fields throughout the region. Quaint farmhouses dot the hills, with pretty little gardens and stately trees in attendance. Broad panoramas of hills and distant mountains leap out at you as you round a turn in the country road that hugs the hillsides lovingly.

Our first outing was to the giant Basilica of St. Francis which dominates the western end of the small town. A sharp contrast to Francis' simplicity and lifestyle, it nonetheless is a focal point of devotion for millions.

Three stories beneath its frescoed ceiling is Francis' tomb, and that of several of his closest brothers. It's been called into question whether his body is there, but I find that kind of doubting unhelpful. If for no other reason than the devotion of millions, I found meditating there in the pews very peaceful and uplifting.

We had an official tour given by a Franciscan priest from New Jersey. We used the headsets that tourists and their guides use. His humor was extremely irreverent but even he could not obfuscate the spiritual vibration of the relics, art, and sanctity of the place. It was interesting that he wove his theology into his patter but used phrases like "making good decisions" in life (ergo, going to heaven) and "finding happiness!"

By pre-arrangement, he took us outside the public areas and into the rooms of St. Joseph of Cupertino. Joseph was a simple, humble and, I believe, all but illiterate priest who lived about a century after Francis. His story is quite remarkable and his claim to fame is the fact that he often was seen, publicly and by crowds, to levitate in ecstasy while attempting to "say" Mass. But with our intellectual tour guide, our stay there was rather limited. We sang a song together and had a few moments of silence. [Many years ago, Padma and I were able to go into those rooms with Shivani Lucki and meditate there on our own for a much longer period of time. A few days later, our pilgrims traveled by van to Joseph's home town where his incorrupt body remains on display.]

On our way up the hill back to our vans, we stopped at a very sweet, pleasant, shaded and wholly genuine outdoor cafe for capucchino. Then back to the Ananda Center for lunch and a tour of Ananda. The tour took us to the Inner Life offices and warehouse a few kilometers past the center and down the mountain in a tiny village; to the offices of the publishing house for our books in Italian, to the art gallery and workshop for several resident artists, to a member-owned organic farm (just like ours on Camano Island), and more. As much as I am tempted to speak of the Ananda community and center there and their years of dedication and the growth of it against all odds, I think I'll stick to my subject (yes, for a change!).

That evening after dinner, we were treated to a concert of music by their choir and some musicians. Many key resident members were away at the time of our visit, being just after the intensely busy summer retreat season, but they rousted enough voices to charm and inspire us. Music, like Italian cuisine, art, and countryside, has a mellifluous, light and harmonious quality that is its very own. I liken it to what happens when you buy the excellent Italian coffee and bring it home to America. It's good, but can never quite taste as good as it does in Italy. So, too, the songs they sang were familiar to us all (composed by Ananda's founder, Swami Kriyananda) and our choral groups do a wonderful job here, too, but somehow........it's not the same.....

The next day we went back to the town of Assisi to the convent of St. (Sister) Clare, called San Damiano. In St. Francis' time, it was a run down church where he prayed and where the crucifix came alive and Jesus spoke to Francis saying, "Rebuild my church!" (Now that same crucifix is to be seen in the town of Assisi at the church there dedicated to St. Claire, called, surprisingly, Santa Chiara!)

I may be speculating here but to me, and I'm sure to others, Claire was to Francis as Teresa (of Avila) was to John of the Cross: each a reflector to the other in a relationship as pure and as inspired as any such could ever be. The poignant and touching story of Clare, a beautiful teenage girl born of a prominent and wealthy family in Assisi (like Francis himself), being inspired by Francis' conversion and total dedication to Lady Poverty and his guru, Jesus Christ, secretly leaves her life of luxury and pleasure to follow Francis. They were obviously, in a sense, "spoiled rich kids" of the town and of course knew each other. Francis, formerly, the party guy in the town, was naturally well liked and well known. But, as is true in the life of many saints, both east and west, these two souls, born by past spiritual karma into position and opportunity, were but disguised saints whose "coming out" had to wait for the right moment.

The famous scene where Francis, surrounded by the very few brothers who had at that early stage come to follow him (also, upper class "boys" like himself), cuts Clare's beautiful hair in a symbolic but very real act of renunciation that is like no other. Artists down through the centuries have been inspired to depict this life-changing and archetypal event which touches us on a deep level. Her sanctity and her spiritualized love for St. Francis is one of the all time greatest stories ever told. Francis rarely permitted himself to express his feelings to her outwardly but there is no doubt of their mutual feeling, depth and purity. (I'm not here to tell their story, so I must move on).

But I say this because the spiritual power of the old convent and its utterly stark and intense simplicity, expressive of the seemingly harsh life the sisters lived there, is like pure light and crystal clear water, untainted by anything merely mortal or mundane, even if all that is tangibly left speaks of their life of material lack. The vibration of God, unseen but powerfully felt, pulses from the very stones.

Another spiritual power spot is the Porciuncula, the second little chapel that Francis and friends helped restore. As is well known, a large Basilica was built over the top of it and while not commenting on the incongruity of it all, it does protect the chapel from the weather. It's hard to get a seat in the "toy" chapel but it is well worth whatever wait is required. Swami Kriyananda, Ananda's founder, praying there many years ago, felt intense sweetness. In prayer he asked St. Francis, "How is such sweetness possible?" The answer he received was "by never judging." Whew! It is also the place where Francis died and a place where many events of his life took place. It, too, is not to be missed. And after an hour or two of prayer and upliftment, you can reward your efforts and share a gelato across the street with St. Francis looking over your shoulder -- sweetly.



Well, let's take a break, shall we? We'll return to Ananda and to Assisi in our next installment.

The blessings continue and the main reason I write these is so I can "go back!"

Swami Hrimananda