Valentine's Day: what is Love?

In the English language, the word "love" bears a great burden for it has to shoulder multiple meanings. We don't have the nuanced words of the Greek language such as Eros (sexual), Philia (friendship), Ludus (playful love), Agape (universal love), Pragma (committed), Philautia (love of self).

 In human life, we have the love of toddlers and children for their parents and siblings; teenage infatuation; romantic relationships; marriage; partnership; friendships based upon shared interests; the love of uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents and so much more. In recent years I see articles on what is narcissism (love of oneself) and we have twisted forms as in co-dependent, addicted, sadistic and so on. We have the term "making love" which as often as not, is, at best, a euphemism that generally describes passing passion than lasting love.

In religion, we have the love of and for God as Father, Mother, Beloved or Friend. I recently read that the Church of England was struggling with the patriarchy of God as Father. (Someone should suggest to them the oriental solution of the mantra "both-and!)

In Catholicism, the veneration of the mother of Jesus has steadily grown. Reported apparitions of Mary have occurred around the globe. St. Joseph of Cupertino (17th century Italy) had a special devotion to Mary as an infant! In India, devotees have a similar devotion to Krishna as an infant just as Christians have a devotion to the infant Jesus. Love of the beloved appears in medieval courtly love and in traditions such as the Sufi tradition (as illustrated in the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam or the popular poet, Rumi).

But here we are in the 21st century. In America, especially, debates rage around transcending binary labels of male of female. Yet for the relatively small contingent that wants to transcend labels there are far more cohorts exulting in their differences as attested to in the popularity of pornography, OnlyFans, "Free the Nipple," and a fashion industry employing less and less cloth. This culture here in America has weathered waves of rising gay pride, same-sex marriage, and changing gender identities and controversies over the lowly pronoun.

Do we dare "celebrate" Valentine's Day in this cacophony of confusion? Valentine's Day is celebrated by children sharing heart-shaped candies, and by adults giving gifts to friends and co-workers, and not just lovers and partners.

Love certainly deserves a celebration but what is it we are celebrating? 

Paramhansa Yogananda came from India to live and teach in America in the year 1920. Though at first careful, he gradually permitted himself to express his love for God in the form he called "Divine Mother." With his upbringing as a Bengali, the particular form of divine mother to which his devotion was directed was the goddess, Kali. Of all the Hindu goddesses, Kali is perhaps the most confusing and even frightening. Yogananda took care to explain the somewhat shocking symbolism seen in depictions of goddess Kali. But he tuned into and early-on expressed and affirmed a devotion to God in the feminine form.

It is no coincidence that not long after Yogananda's passing the quietly rising tide of feminism broke into a large wave recognizing the need for change and equality among men and women. Ananda's founder, Swami Kriyananda--trained by Yogananda--taught that the time has arrived when God can and should be approached in the feminine form. This teaching can help elevate the social and psychological movement towards a higher, divine expression. In the masculine form, God tends to be distant and expresses more naturally justice and wisdom. God is closer to us in the feminine form, especially as mother.

And here, then, we have a budding solution to our cacophony. God is neither male nor female and neither are we, made as we are, in the image of God. In India the traditional counsel given newlyweds is for each to see God enshrined in one another's forms: God as Father, and God as Mother. Whether we are comfortable in our body's gender or not comfortable, either way we are not our body, nor even yet our personality. We are the immortal soul. 

But neither need we deny our body and its influence upon our consciousness. The gender of our bodies, the customs of our culture and our own personal karma may influence us to behave in certain ways considered masculine or feminine but we can also choose our influences and aspire to transcend binary self-definitions or at least not reinforce them. 

Best then it is to relate to one another as souls rather than bodies. We can consciously aspire to live more in our center wherein is found a balance of each gender. To be a soul and a human first and only secondarily have a male or female body (just as secondarily we may be American, Indian, Chinese, black, white or red) is the invitation God is gently offering to humanity at this time. This is part of what is meant by Self-realization. 

This feeling of freedom was what I encountered when I came to Ananda Village in 1977. We were mostly young then: in our twenties and thirties but the example of Swami Kriyananda and the influence of the yoga teachings we practiced suggested a "non-binary" lifestyle and attitude. It was refreshingly clean and freeing. We were friends and souls first. Little notice was given to our gender differences. When we relate in this way, we find that men and women working together can re-direct their naturally occurring animal magnetism into forms that are creative and serviceful. Most of the leaders of the various Ananda communities worldwide are couples. Relationships and marriage came naturally and so did also, from time to time, divorce, for we were not immune to the consciousness of our times. But the elation of the one and the pain of the other were mitigated by the simple fact that first and foremost we were friends in God.

In Swami Kriyananda's book of counsel to the yogi, "Sadhu Beware," he counsels men and women not to gaze into the eyes of the opposite sex. However, even without gazing and basking, it is uncomfortable to avert one's eyes in ordinary conversation. Looking into the spiritual eye (point between the eyebrows) is helpful but most important is one's own intention and consciousness. Otherwise we might appear nervous or shifty-eyed and that's almost as unhelpful.

I once complimented a young woman on her singing and said, "Thank you, Mother!" Perplexed she said, "Huh? Mother?" Realizing that didn't make any sense to her, I just laughed and said, "Well, it's safer that way" (safer, that is, to see her as "mother" or "sister" rather than to view her as an attractive young woman). St. Francis was reported to have warned a woman who was constantly wanting to serve him, "Be careful, I can still father children." Age, you see, unfortunately, has little to do with imagination and desire. (That's why we have reincarnation!)

Let us be children, or brothers and sisters, again, mixing as circumstances and culture may require, but happily relating to one another as souls, as Spirit incarnate. We can do our part, also, not to act out our gender roles when circumstances tempt us to do so. Our words, dress, and comportment can be calm, modest and respectful, free as much as language allows, from an emphasis on gender. And even with one who is our partner or spouse, calm respect and courtesy go further than the ever-oscillating waves of romance idealized at weddings or on Valentine's Day! 

May our beloved Friend, Father-Mother-God, be our Valentine!

Swami Hrimananda

Practicing the Presence of God on the Inner Path

A good friend of mine recently endowed me with a copy of Brother Lawrence's classic, "Practicing the Presence of God". This little book is a favorite among Christians. In the last century, this practice was energized further by the missionary, Frank Laubach, as expressed in his book, "Letters by a Modern Mystic." My friend also reminded me of an essential editorial passage from Paramhansa Yogananda's commentary on the "Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Explained." The editorial was written by the editor, Swami Kriyananda.

In the editorial, Swami Kriyananda pointed out a distinction that has been very meaningful to me in my inner, spiritual life: the distinction between my practice of the presence of God and my realization of the presence of God. These are two, distinct experiences just as the practice of meditation is not necessarily the same thing AS meditation. Meditation begins, Yogananda taught, when motion ceases (meaning physical movement, emotions and thoughts).

My inner spiritual conflict or confusion has long been between my efforts to visualize or affirm spiritual states (such as peace, love, etc.) or the presence of God in the form of the guru versus being uplifted into such states (called by Yogananda: "superconsciousness"). My conflict centered on whether to drop my efforts in favor of being open to the descent of these states into my consciousness. 

Was I, I would wonder, preventing my own upliftment by grace by the static of my mental efforts to pray? Does prayer more or less, despite its seeming intention, keep me separate from God? Even worse, is prayer a clever way by which the ego guarantees that my separateness remains firmly intact? Shouldn't I be perfectly still, awaiting the Spirit? Like St. Teresa of Avila before the angel, shouldn't I await the piercing sword of divine love without expectation?

The traditional forms of practicing the presence of God as illuminated by Brother Laurence, Frank Laubach and even the delightful and inspired book, "The Way of the Pilgrim.," are similar to the Hindu practice called "japa." As the Russian pilgrim recited the so-called Jesus prayer: "Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me," so Hindus and yogis will silently chant a mantra throughout the day. 

Though slightly different, Brother Lawrence and Frank Laubach "talk to God" throughout the day, sharing their thoughts silently and mentally with God or Christ.

There's no question that all of these practices are life-transforming. Though they are simple, that doesn't make them easy to practice. In the Way of the Pilgrim and in a manner that is both obvious and traditional, one begins where you are: a few seconds; a few minutes; and on and on increasingly until the silent, mental prayer literally overtakes one's mental awareness and subconscious. The chant or prayer becomes the backdrop to one's consciousness. 

Life being what it is in the effort to "stay tuned," it just so happened that three "coincidences" occurred in my life that set the stage for this reflection. First, my friend sent me the book by Brother Lawrence. Second, I was assigned to give a brief talk on "Making Room for God in your Mind." Thirdly, that very morning I was asked to respond in writing to the question "Did Yogananda teach the practice of japa?" 

Returning to the editorial comment in the Rubaiyat, the comment appears as part of Quatrain 31: one of the deepest stanzas referring to the inner path of spiritual awakening. I'll copy that quatrain here:

Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate

I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,

And many Knots unravel’d by the Road;

But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.

Yogananda's commentary on this quatrain launches into a lengthy exposition on the system of the energy centers in the subtle body which are known as the chakras." Most readers of this blog will require no further description of the chakras. 

A profound explanation follows: 

The nerves are channels through which the life-force enables the mind and body to interact. As the life-force moves down the spine and out to the body and its senses, the mind is drawn outward also. Sense-stimulation from within impels one to seek fulfillment in sense-pleasures.

This same nervous system, however, constitutes the one and only path to spiritual enlightenment, regardless of a person’s formal religious affiliation. When the energy can be coaxed to reverse its flow from the senses to the brain, it reveals to our consciousness another world. This stimulation of the nerves at their inner source awakens the desire for self-fulfillment and for Self-realization. With progressive interiorization, through daily meditation, one develops subtle, inner perceptions vastly more satisfying than their muted echoes from the senses. The knotty problems of life and death are resolved, and the heart’s feelings are extricated at last from the need for further incarnations of material involvement.

It continues with this paragraph:

Stimulation of the nerves at their inner source promotes divine consciousness. It helps also to think of God, certainly, but it is not strictly necessary. If atheists experiment with this teaching, they too will get results. Indeed, to think of God is to define Him, and to define Him is, in a sense, to limit Him. The steady expansion of consciousness surpasses all definitions of Him who is undefinable. Let your devotion to God, and your thoughts of Him, proceed as much as possible from your experience of the Divine, in the silence.

Meditation is the supreme way to internalize the flow of energy and consciousness. In daily life, too, one can transform “absent-mindedness,” and the fancied need for “fillers,” by concentrating on the life source within.

Yogananda's commentary on the Rubaiyat and especially this stanza, so rich with meaning, is well worth the read.

What I take from this reminder of the inner path, then, is to "pray, praise, and glorify God" through inner communion with the indwelling grace, power and presence of God in the form of the Life Force (or prana). Even belief is secondary. As Swami Kriyananda's beautiful choral piece called Life Mantra reminds us: God is life; life is God. Jesus spoke plainly in this regard: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life." The advanced technique of Kriya Yoga is a form of communion with the river of life in the subtle spine of the astral body. In that river, we are bathed and transformed by grace. Yoga practice has come to free us from dogmas and rituals, which while they too can have a place at humanity's table, are no substitute for the living experience of God's presence where it alone can be found: again, in the words of Jesus Christ, "The kingdom of heaven is within you."

May the Light of the universal Christ/Krishna shine upon you!

Swami Hrimananda!

Why Celebrate Christmas? What is the Avatara?

In the beloved Song of God, the Bhagavad Gita, God promises that "whenever virtue declines and vice predominates, I incarnate on earth. Taking visible form, I combat evil and uphold dharma (virtue)."

The story of the three Wise Men (or Magi) appears only in the gospel of Matthew. Matthew was a tax collector and when Jesus saw him and said to Matthew, "Come, follow me," Matthew immediately left his collection booth to follow Jesus. As a much-hated tax collector, Matthew was obviously unorthodox but he could read, write, and do accounts. Of the four evangelists, Matthew seems to have had a particular interest in showing his Jewish compatriots that Jesus' life was foretold in the scriptures of the Old Testament.

But where would Matthew have learned of this story? If from Jesus, then Jesus would have presumably been told the story by his father or mother. But how would his parents have known the details of the Magi's visit to King Herod in Jerusalem before coming to Bethlehem? How would they have known that the Magi were warned in a dream not to tell King Herod that they had found the Christ-child? Whatever the source, you can be sure that the visit by the Magic must have had a special significance, one presumably to those with Jewish ears to hear. Or, perhaps it is for our ears that Matthew recounted this story?

Matthew, being unorthodox, was not only attracted to the equally unorthodox Jesus but may have also been knowledgeable regarding and curious about other cultures and traditions. The significance of this story is hinted at by Paramhansa Yogananda in the twentieth century when Yogananda declared that the Magi were none other than his own lineage (in past lives): Babaji, Lahiri Mahasaya, and Sri Yukteswar. Regardless of the facts, the story points to a significant connection between the Orient and the birth, life and mission of Jesus Christ. The Magi, who themselves are viewed as kings, came a great distance to present precious gifts to yet another king, albeit newborn and lying in a manger. How can this event not be fraught with meaning? The obvious significance is the recognition of Jesus' birth as the birth of a spiritual being. But why from "the East?"

"Whenever virtue declines....I incarnate on earth." Though Christians quite understandably admit of no other divine incarnation than Jesus, that dogma is questionable in the light of our exposure and knowledge of other religions. There's no reason that God should have but one son, is there? Does not the Old Testament make repeated mention of the "sons of God?" Does not the first chapter of John the Evangelist state that "as many as received Him (Christ) to them gave He the power to become the sons of God"? Taking our cue from the quote above from the Bhagavad Gita, is not obvious that down through history there have been times where the need for a savior was great? Consider the brutality of Jesus' times; the flagging power of the classical, so-called "pagan," religions; the inflexibility of caste and the oppression of so many people under Roman occupation.

Is this time in human history not such a moment? Orthodox religions are losing their appeal and at odds with one another; economic, racial, cultural and gender inequalities are rampant; threats of both war and the use of nuclear weapons are on the rise; climate change threatens all species of life on the planet; cooperation among nations is on the wane; and legislatures are polarized. Perhaps the avatara has already happened in the form of Paramhansa Yogananda and the lineage that sent him to the West.

Christmas, however is the celebration of the divine descent, or avatara, of Jesus Christ. Paramhansa Yogananda described the avatara, whether Jesus or others such as Krishna, Buddha, as being souls who, in a past life, achieved their son-ship with the Father and were sent back by God to uplift and redeem souls from the snares of delusion.

We not only celebrate the avatara of Jesus Christ in the Christmas season but we also celebrate the redeemer role of Jesus and other avatars. What is this redeemer role? Did Jesus (and others) come to redeem our sins? Well, yes, in a sense. But not in the passively sentimental sense that is implied by orthodox Christians. Un-redeemed souls do indeed require the spiritual help of a divine being, a savior. In India, this is expressed in the teaching that to achieve enlightenment the soul needs a guru. Though freely offered by the avatar, it is not cheaply won. The pearl of great price takes great spiritual effort. But why can we not redeem ourselves through self-effort alone: through penance, virtue, and devotion?

Christian dogma speaks of original sin, the fall of Adam and Eve, as the reason we need a Christ to reconcile us back to God--to make the perfect sacrifice necessary to atone for our sins. But a yogi would say we are equally burdened by our karma. Either way, we need something more than our own effort because we are imprisoned in a cocoon and blinded by a hypnosis of our separation from God.

An outside spiritual force or magnetism is needed for the soul to break through. The savior, or guru, appears when the disciple is ready (as the saying goes). That readiness is echoed in the parable of the prodigal son, when, in the midst of his self-inflicted deprivation, the son remembers and longs to return to his father's home. It is the first step. The role of the guru is to awaken our soul's memory of its home in God-consciousness--the home from which we were created. But the guru does more than just jog our memory. The guru has the spiritual power to give to those who "receive Him" the ability to be come  sons of God. Nor is such power based upon a ritual, an incantation or priestly position.

Life on earth would be a paradise if everyone followed the Golden Rule to "do unto others we would want others to do to us." But it is not enough. More than mere reason is needed. The very fact of our inability to bootstrap our way to inner communion with God puts us on notice that we need a spiritual power outside of ourselves.

At the Last Supper, Jesus rendered aloud an accounting to God the Father for the souls that were sent to him to be taught and uplifted. Except for Judas Iscariot, they were all accounted for. This reflects the yogic teaching that at the dawn of creation, that Being who will be our soul's redeemer is already known. But it is we who must consciously call upon God to send to us our savior. Isn't that a beautiful teaching?

In celebrating Christmas we celebrate the birth of an avatar, a redeemer of souls, in the human form of the Son of Man whom we call Jesus (the) Christ. 

A blessed and joyful Christmas to all,

Swami Hrimananda