Renunciation vs. Dutiful Action in Hinduism

Hegel looked at human history as developing through dialectics resolved at a more advanced point in a trajectory of expanding human freedom. It may be in the history of religion that less superstition evinces an evolution of a different sort. The monotheism of the Abrahamic religions came out of a polytheistic context, but it is a more difficult matter to claim that monotheism represents a development of human religion historically because polytheism has continued. Even though some contemporary interpreters of Hinduism’s main text, the Bhagavad-Gita, claim erroneously that the god Krishna being the supreme deity in that text means that it is monotheist even though in that text, Krishna himself acknowledges that people pray to other gods and goddesses that exist. Rather than maintain that monotheism is an advancement on polytheism, I submit that conceptual contradictions between contending religious claims in any religion can be surmounted, as transcended, though with the caveat that in polytheism, contradictions have a firmer grounding even though they too are to be transcended if religion itself is permitted to evolve.

In chapter 5 of the Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna that dispassionate action is superior to renunciation: “the Karma-Yoga is better than (mere) renunciation of action.”[1] In the next chapter, Krishna essentially redefines renunciation as the action of a person “who performs the action to be done, regardless of action’s fruit.” Such a person is “a renouncer and a yogin.” In contrast, a person who “is inactive” is not a renouncer.[2] In short, action (which is not motivated by its consequences) rather than inaction is renunciation. This flips the concept on its head. In the Gita, Lord Krishna wants Arjuna to fight rather than to renounce fighting relatives in the civil war, so the deity simply redefines renunciation to hinge on motive or intention rather than conduct (or lack thereof). In the Christian Gospels, Jesus says something similar regarding lusting itself rather than only actually having sex outside of marriage. Such an interiorization of religion may be a step in the evolution of that domain such that intention, not only what a person does, matters.

Lord Krishna’s conceptualization of renunciation conflicts with the conception of the word in Advaita philosophy, in which renunciation means abstaining from as much action as possible; meditation, rather than performing dutiful action even in battle is Shankara’s preference. To that famous Advaitan philosopher and theologian, Brahman, which is infinite being, is more ultimate than is any deity, including Krishna in the Gita. So, Shankara advocates meditating on Brahman rather than bhukti devotionalism to Krishna. Both regarding the different conceptions of renunciation and whether ultimacy is infinite being or a Supreme Person (e.g., Krishna in the Gita), compromise is elusive and perhaps impossible. That different strains of thought and even conflicting claims exist in a religion is difficult for us to accept even if the history of a given religion shows us how the differences arose. If Brahman is one, as both Shankara and Schopenhauer affirm in their respective writings, and if the existence of several deities in a polytheistic religion is possible rather than self-contradictory, then would it not be appropriate for religious leaders to gather to select one among conflicting claims?  In Christianity, this occurred in the Council of Nicea in 325 CE.

On the other hand, the insistence on consistency may be premised on the exclusive existence of only one deity, which applies to the Abrahamic monotheist religions but not to a polytheistic religion such as Hinduism. Different perspectives, and even contradictory claims, may be consistent with the existence of several deities, even if one of them is supreme over all of the others. In the Gita, for instance, Krishna claims to be the supreme deity, which, by the way, is different than stating that among gods and goddesses that are worshipped, only Krishna exists. In the Gita, Krishna does not make this claim, even where he claims to deliver the goods when people petition other Hindu deities. In ancient Greco-Roman polytheistic religion, deities fought with each other, so even contradictory beliefs among the faithful would make sense. In polytheistic Hinduism, however, Advaitan adherents who follow Shankara’s theology, Brahman as the ultimate one over even Krishna in the Gita means that contradictions are illusionary rather than real. Even the deities are not real, according to Shankara.

Even in the Gita, Brahman itself, including the consciousness (i.e., general awareness) that being itself has (or is), transcends pairs of opposites. After Krishna asserts that a person “who does not hate or hanker after (anything) is to be known as a perpetual renouncer,” that deity states, “For, without (the influence of) the pairs-of-opposites, [such a person] is easily released from bondage.”[3] By implication, Brahman transcends pairs-of-opposites too. Indeed, yogins whose “defilements have dwindled, (whose) dualities are destroyed, (whose) selves are controlled, (and who) delight in the good of all beings” reach “extinction in the world-ground.”[4] Transcending dualities in the world ultimate results in one’s very self (atman) no longer being a distinct entity in Brahman. Therefore, contradictions even in scripture are surmountable. Moreover, as the example of the nineteenth-century Hindu mystic Ramakrishna illustrates, scripture itself can be transcended by genuine religious experience even in ritual, such as in devotion intensely directed to a deity. If so, not only cognitive contradictions, but much more could be transcended if religion on the human side develops further.

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1. Gita 5.2 in Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 149.
2. Gita 6.1. in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 157.
3. Gita 5.3 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 149. I have changed Feuerstein’s use of brackets to parentheses because in quoting Feuerstein’s text, I use brackets to add words to those which Feuerstein has written. This is consistent with Feuerstein having used brackets to add words to the text he was translating. I submit that this is a legitimate exception to the general rule that that which is quoted should be quoted as is, including the punctuation marks in the text.
4. Gita 5.25 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 155. Italics added to certain English words.

Transcendence in Hindu Bhakti

Edwin Byrant, a scholar of Hinduism who spoke at the Bhakti Yoga conference based at Harvard in March 2025, discussed the transcendence that is in bhukti devotion to a Hindu deity, such as Krishna. Such transcendence can end a person’s transactional approach in trying to please a deity in exchange from beneficial grace from the deity’s love. Both the steps and definitions of bhakti reveal the salience of transcendence in loving devotion to a deity.

The steps of Bhakti Yoga begin with a person recognizing one’s own suffering. We want to put an end to our own suffering. The first step is to recognize that there is a higher power: a power higher than oneself. There is order in the cosmos, so there must be a higher power that is ordering the universe. We are naturally self-centric, but we should be able to recognize that we are not the cause of the order of the universe. Therefore, the recognition of a higher power—an intelligence that is omnipotent—includes an acknowledgement that none of us is that higher power. The next stage is surrendering to it. Then, a person can look to the higher power manifesting in one’s life. Ultimately, love is the gift that comes from the outside. When it is given, then the transactional element is ended; the person forgets oneself in loving a deity. The focus is on trying to attract the deity’s grace. As such grace is transcendent, and thus beyond our power and knowledge, and thus our efforts to please, we can only attempt to attract a deity’s attention and get lost in the loving itself.

Transcendence can be gleamed too from definitions of Bhakti. The Sanskrit word, bhakti, is a verbal noun (i.e., something you do): an action that connects. In the Bhakti Sutras, several definitions are given. They boil down to seva, which loosely translates as service. It is to try to please. It is not selfish.  So, bhakti includes engaging in acts to please the other. To purify the selfishness and please the beloved. Minds can only manifest thoughts, and this is not sufficient to know how to please an entity that is transcendent. Part of surrendering is acknowledging our limitations.  So, we look to religious experts, such as gurus, and religious texts, such as the Puranas and the Bhagavad-Gita, on which a guru should be based, for even gurus are human, all too human.

By its very nature, transcendence goes beyond the limits of human cognition and perception, so even a succinct, well-organized explanation or account of transcendence itself or that which is posited as transcendent should be recognized as limited. For example, it may not be clear how surrender to a higher power implies or even is compatible with devotional love, at least from the perspective of the world in which we live. Such utter dependence as a creature such as Man can recognize in one’s relation to the Creator, which is the basis even of existence itself, may involve or admit a distinctly theological love that is qualitatively different than interpersonal love, which is based in social psychology. This is not to claim that the former kind of love cannot relate to the latter—only that the former cannot be derived from the latter. We may be so used to projecting the love we feel in our own realm onto the love that a deity has and that we may direct to a deity that we could scarcely recognize or even conceptualize of distinctly theological love. It would follow that any definition of bhakti can only be provisional, and yet any given definition is improvable. Transcending transactionalism, for example, is just part of the process in coming to terms with what Hindu bhakti really is, as sui generis rather than projected devotional love.

Hinduism Applied to Business

Applying a religion such as Hinduism to business is laudatory. Undercutting any benefits of doing so, however, is the advocation of religious principles that are so unrealistic in the business world that they undercut the credibility of the project itself. John D. Rockefeller was a Baptist who taught Sunday school at his church even as he pushed competitors out of business who refused to be bought out by Rockefeller’s refining monopoly, Standard Oil Company. To be sure, after retiring, he gave away about half of his $800 million (1913 dollars), but he did not claim that his personal generosity justified his earlier restraint of trade as a monopolist. Rather, he claimed to be more of a “Christ figure” as a monopolist than he was next as a philanthropist. In my study on Rockefeller, I concluded that he was delusional, yet to some extent well-intended, given the destructive competition that was ravaging small businesses in the refining industry during the 1860s. Rockefeller thought of his giant as saving the otherwise presumably drowning competitors, but Jesus in the Gospels does not drown people who are unwilling to be converted. Clearly, the application of religion to business can be abused, including in being much too idealistic, even utopian, and in being used to justify egregious economic tactics and even greed itself.

Although G.D. Birla, a Hindu industrialist when India was trying to achieve political and economic independence from Britain, sought to integrate religious principles both in the establishment and running of his steel company and his later philanthropy, whereas most Christian titans at the time in the West saw their religious principles as pertaining only to charitable giving after having become rich, the application of Vedic knowledge to business is not without its own drawbacks. Specifically, I contend that lofty sounding principles such as bhakti and dharma can sail right over the real world of business, the former being too high to make a dent in the latter. It does the profane no good if the sacred treats the profane as “fly-over territory” between two coasts.

Speaking at a Bhakti Yoga conference hosted by Harvard University in March, 2025, Rajeev Srivastava, a Hindu entrepreneur, advocated applying the Vedic teachings of being a custodian of wealth and giving back as a form of service, including in making donations to charities. That is, he was asserting that the Vedic teaching of trusteeship includes giving back to society as an integral part of business.  Doing business with a purpose that includes profit, but without greed, is key. Srivastava stressed having a spiritual teacher who can teach a business practitioner how to serve. Presumably serving enables a practitioner to include profitability in one’s business purposes and yet without being motivated by greed.

It is ironic, therefore, that business practitioners who can control pride and greed and are motivated by service to God and humanity and seek mentoring by spiritual teachers are, according to Srivastava, more likely to succeed in work tasks and to have profitable businesses. For example, demonstrating integrity and character facilitates raising capital from investors because it is important to them to be able to trust the people who manage their investments through business strategy and operations.  The following terms are relevant: loka-sangraham means having profit as an outcome but not as the purpose; loka-saudhnyam is wealth as entrusted (trustee-oriented); loka-saumitram is the establishment of relationships of love with all stakeholders; sakhya-priti is caring for stakeholders; and jaget-priti is caring for the planet (i.e., accepting the limits of finite natural resources). Admittedly, the notion that managers of a business would come to love stakeholders, which includes employee union heads and government regulators, as well as the media, is far-fetched.

Once in a business seminar on theory construction, I proposed a theory that includes love. Looking back on the assignment and my presentation years later, I felt utterly embarrassed for having come up with such a ridiculous theory of business; the marketing professor had been very charitable towards me in not checking me into a psyche ward so anti-psychotic medication could be applied. I doubt it would have helped. So, I have some “skin in the game” in being critical when religion applied to business goes too far, for I have committed that very sin.

In applying Hinduism, even jaget-priti seems utterly unrealistic. At the very least, even ethical managers of a business naturally are oriented to profitability; even those who are not greedy are oriented, or compartmentalized, to the practice of management, and thus to its mind-frame.  In fact, being oriented to a firm’s profitability is part of the fiduciary responsibility of a management. Of course, if a majority of the ownership of a business, whether private or publicly-owned, wants to use its wealth to care for, and even love stakeholders, fiduciary duty (assuming the rights of minority stockholders are not impaired) can include diverting resources, attention, and even profits to stakeholder groups. In short, applying religion to the business world should not be so unrealistic that the only real application is for marketing purposes. The term, servant leadership, is commonly bandied about for just such a purpose, as is corporate “social responsibility.”

Also speaking at the Bhakti Yoga conference, Prakash Govindan discussed the application of the business jargon, servant leadership, to Hinduism. He said that three terms apply. Dama is the finding inner balance (emotional mastery, inner resources are infinite); daya refers to the mood of compassion (ontological humility); and dana is the joy of giving. Finding inner balance is more realistic than loving and caring for stakeholders, and finding inner peace may actually result in greater compassion if inner security and stability naturally enable a person to feel compassion deeper and more often. Applying Bhakti Yoga to business practitioners, including CEOs, Govindan said that because “the material world and material life [which includes business] is like banging your head against the wall,” he tried silent meditation focused on his heartbeat. Out of that came an orientation to serve, in part to stay humble and not get entitled. It’s not about how much is given; rather, it is the intention that counts.

In Spiritual Leadership in Business (2017), I argue that by engaging in a regime of regular religious experience, whether in prayer, liturgy, or meditation, a manager may be more inclined to be compassionate at work, even in leading an organization. I reason that the enhanced sensitivity to the world, including suffering, happens naturally from engaging in prayer or meditation because yearning experientially in transcendence beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and emotionality (sensibility) involves enhanced sensitivity. Even just the residue of it can stay with a person back in the world, meaning that one’s sensitivity generally, and including to other living beings, is greater than without having experienced religious transcendence. This application of spirituality (being practiced regularly) to business is much preferable to dogmatic preaching of religious tenets. In fact, regular religious experience may naturally result in that which the tenets intentionally prescribe. What happens automatically is, I submit, more reliable than what depends on intention. This is not to say, however, that regular religious practice will cause business managers to love stakeholders, but relations could improve by being naturally more sensitive to the other. Smoothing the rough edges rather than turning things upside-down in attempting to instill a utopian dream may be how religion can be relevant in the world of business. For to simply whitewash the profane with the sacred would make heaven a tautology.