Showing posts with label Ramakrishna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ramakrishna. Show all posts

Friday, December 19, 2025

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.



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.

Sunday, September 28, 2025

On Arjuna's Vision of Krishna in the Bhagavad-Gita

In chapter 11 of the Bhagavad-Gita, Krishna reveals his real form to Arjuna. The chapter seems like a departure from the surrounding chapters, which focus on bhukti (i.e., devotion to Krishna). For example, in chapter 9, Krishna gives Arjuna the following imperative: “Always think of Me and become my devotee.” Unlike seeing the deity as he really is, sincere devotion to that which is based beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and emotion is possible without being given “divine eyes.” The metaphysically, ontologically real is an attention-getter in the text, but it is the devotion, or bhukti, that is more important from a practical standpoint. Even theologically, the experience of transcendence, of which the human brain is capable, can be said to be more important than “seeing” divinity as it really is because the latter, unlike the former, lies beyond our grasp. In fact, seeing Krishna as he really exists is not necessary, for in chapter 10, Krishna says, “Here are some ways you can recognize and think of Me in the things around you [in the world].” This is yet another reason why the devotion rather than seeing Krishna as he really is, ontologically, should be the attention-getter in the Gita.

A movie focusing on chapter 11 would highlight special effects, and indeed at least one does this to gaudy excess, whereas a movie based on the compassion of Krishna and devotion of Arjuna would be a melodrama, at least if Ramakrishna, a Hindu mystic who lived in the nineteenth century, is any indication. His devotion was so intense that a guru allowed Ramakrishna to perform ritual as he intuited. I contend that this, rather than hoping to see the divine as it really is, ought to be the goal of a religious person.

Benkata Bhatta, speaking at a Bhakti Yoga Conference in 2025, asked why, given that Krishna tells Arjuna when he is seeing Krishna as the deity really is, “Now see for yourself how everything in creation is within Me,” why does Arjuna request to see Krishna as the deity really is? Bhatta’s answer was that we are visual creatures. Hence, Jesus says in the Gospels, blessed are those who do not see me yet believe. Yet even in the case of Jesus, the incarnated Logos, he is not seen by even his disciples as the Word itself, by which God created the world. In contrast, Krishna is giving Arjuna a way of accessing something that is already there in front of us, only Arjuna needs divine eyes to see Krishna as the deity really is. Just before revealing Himself, Krishna tells Arjuna, “but you cannot see Me with our present eyes. Therefore, I give you divine eyes.” Although Jesus’s disciples do not see Jesus as the Logos, they do not need divine eyes to see Jesus ascending to heaven as resurrected. The resurrected body is itself at least how the incarnated Logos really is, even if it does not show the Logos as it is before being incarnated by God’s self-emptying, or lowering, of itself. Paul’s vision of Jesus, as well as that of the disciples when they see Jesus next to Elijah and Moses, can also be said to be transcendent and thus as Jesus really is, as incarnated. Nevertheless, it can be argued that seeing the Logos as it really is, sans being incarnated, requires “divine eyes.”

In his talk, Bhatta said that vision defies enumeration, and is brighter than “hundreds of thousands of suns.” All living being. No beginning, middle or end; without limit or boundaries. How can this be encapsulated in the vision?  A person would need divine eyes, which Krishna gives to Arjuna to see Krishna as that Supreme Person is. Simultaneous unity and unending multiplicity. Innumerable arms, faces, mouths, bellies, and many terrible teeth. This is, I submit, intentionally overwhelming, and this can be treated as an indication that being provided such a vision goes too far for us mere mortals.

 In The Idea of the Holy, Rudolf Otto’s descriptors of terrifying, fancinating, mysterious pertaining to the human experience of the holy aptly describe Arjuna’s reaction to seeing Krishna. For instance, Arjuna says, “Oh great one, seeing this wondrous and terrible form. . . . Your many terrible teeth; and as they are disturbed, so am I. . . . my mind is perturbed by fear. I can no longer maintain my steadiness or equilibrium of mind.” Arjuna sees the soldiers on both sides, their heads smashed by Krishna’s teeth. He is bewildered, terrified, and humbled. “What are you?” Arjuna asks. Krishna answers, “Time (or death) I am, the great destroyer of all worlds.” This ontological basis of Krishna is the metaphysical basis of the Gita’s main ethical teaching for Arjuna, who is in a confused state ethically on whether to fight against some of his relatives on the battlefield in a civil war: death is already fated, so an instrument. Don’t worry about the ethics of killing your former teachers and even some of your relatives. Yet even as destiny exists, there is still space for free will. Arjuna can decide to walk away from the battlefield.

Arjuna calls Krishna the god of gods. Arjuna begs forgiveness for having been so informally friendly with the supreme deity. “You are my dear friend, but simultaneously you are so much greater than I am,” Arjuna now realizes. Krishna forgives Arjuna, and thus treats the latter as a friend. Arjuna says, “I am gladdened, but at the same time my mind is disturbed with fear . . .” According to Bhatta, Arjuna is grateful for being shown the divine vision, but is also afraid—too much so, in fact. The fear is making it difficult for Arjuna to love Krishna. So, Arjuna asks to see the four-armed Narayana form of Krishna. The four-arms reminds him that Krishna is the Supreme Person and yet is less terrifying. Krishna grants this wish. To encourage Arjuna, Krishna further withdraws to a two-armed human-like form. This is divinity seen as human-like, just as Jesus is the Logos in human form. Just as seeing the Logos as it is may be too terrifying for mere mortls, Arjuna tells Krishna, “Seeing this beautiful human-like form, now I am myself . . .” Krishna sympathizes with the confused warrior, saying during the vision, “this form of Mine you are now seeing is very difficult to behold. The form you are seeing you’re your transcendental eyes cannot be understood simply by studying the Vedas, or by undergoing serious penances, nor by charity, nor by worship.” Lest this line be construed as privileging the ontological vision over bhukti, Krishna goes on to say, “only by undivided devotional service can I be understood as I am, standing before you, and thus be seen directly. Only in this way can you enter into the mysteries of My understanding . . .”  Krishna appears to be saying that only by bhukti can He not only be understood as he is, but also seen, thus in a way that does not require divine eyes. To be sure, Arjuna is able to see Krishna in human form (i.e., with only two arms) differently after having seen the deity as He really is, but, according to Bhatta, the source of divine power is coming down to a loving relationship with Arjuna. Even though there is admittedly a power to having a healthy kind of fear if it facilitates a fuller, personal, intimate relationship, for otherwise such a relationship may be taken for granted, seeing Krishna as He really exists is not necessary to be even intensely devoted to the deity and even understanding and seeing the deity as it really is.

Therefore, reading the Gita as if the vision in chapter 11 is the most important part may be a mistake borne in part from the sensationalism of how the vision is described in the text. The descriptors theorized by Otto, especially that of tremendum, can and should be tempered, and this can be done by focusing on loving devotion instead of a vision of a deity as it really is. It is not as if we have divine eyes, whereas devotion to a transcendent entity or object is within our purview.


Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Comparative Devotionalism: Hinduism and Christianity

I suspect that many people would feel very uncomfortable watching a religious person express devotional love to that person’s chosen deity in a very emotional and effusive manner. The sheer emotional intensity amid the dancing and chanting in a Hare Krishna temple can be daunting to a visitor. The phenomenon of what in Hinduism is called bhukti is hardly rare, and this begs the question of whether there is a human instinctual urge to feel and express even lifelong loving devotion to an entity that is not based in the created realm and thus cannot be realized and instantiated as another human being can be and is. Whether there is a phenomenon that is human, thus beyond the manifestations in various religions can go a long way in answering the question of whether an innate instinctual urge exists, even if it is more pressing in some people than in others. Some people, for instance, work their whole life in business, while other business practitioners reach a certain point in years when they “check out,” and head to a divinity school or seminary. Still other people assume religious vocations as young adults and spend the rest of their life ministering to people and officiating at religious rituals. Some people spend their entire life without feeling devotional love directed to a deity, while other people, such as the Hindu mystic, Ramakrishna, are utterly consumed by the inward fire of religious devotion. Was Ramakrishna’s devotion different in kind from a Christian’s intense love of Jesus, or is there what can be termed a human bhakti phenomenon, and if so, is it capable of breaking down religious barriers that can excite animosity and even hatred?

Jess Navarette, speaking at Harvard’s Bhakti Yoga conference in March, 2025, discussed comparative Bhakti by looking at Hindu and Christian parallels. Bhakti yoga is the practice of loving devotion. There is a coherent thread back to the Vedas, and devotion to Krishna is salient in several of the chapters of the Bhagavad-Gita. In chapter 7 alone, Krishna tells Arjuna, “Here (now), O son-of-Pritha, how, [with] the mind attached to Me, engaged in Yoga, [with] Me as refuge, you may know Me fully, without doubt.”[1] Taking refuge is other than epistemological (i.e., knowing), as dependence is involved. Furthermore, Krishna says that people who act meritoriously and for “whom evil has come to an end” are those who “worship” Krishna rather than the other deities.[2] Because the early-medieval Hindu theologian and philosopher Shankara claims that even in the Gita, achieving the realization that one’s self (atman) is identical to brahman, which is being itself and is conscious or aware, it is important to stress that Bhakti devotion to a deity involves more than just knowing the deity’s higher nature; loving devotion, such as is evinced in worshipping a deity, is the essence of bhakti.

Although it is problematic to apply the Hindu term bhakti to other religions, such as Christianity, just as applying the word “God” to brahman is also problematic, devotion to a deity is in other religions besides Hinduism, and by looking at the similarities, the phenomenon of religious devotion can be better understood because the artifacts of particular religions can be distinguished from the trans-religious phenomenon itself. This, by the way, is an excellent reason for studying comparative religion or theology, though such an orientation comes with the opportunity cost of the foregone benefits of specializing in one religion.

One such bhukti parallel pertains to Jesus washing the disciples’ feet[3] and Krishna washing Sudama’s feet.[4] Both Lord Jesus and Lord Krishna commend service by leading by example. Also, both highlight the closeness of God and the intimacy that is possible in loving devotion.  Finally, both passages imply the personal care and attention that the Son of God and Lord Krishna give to humans, who should thus be humble (and grateful) in return, for such care and attention is voluntary.

Another parallel of devotion to God pertains to Judaism and Christianity, and this similarity will lead us to back to making Hindu-Christian comparisons. Deuteronomy 6:5 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength” and Matthew 22:37-40 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” Although the latter extends love to interpersonal relations, both passages are very direct in issuing the imperative that devotional love is to be directed to God. Of the thought of Gregory of Nyssa (4th century), Navarette wrote, “The perfection of human nature consists in being united with God by a kind of devotion which leads the soul to love Him above all things.”  Furthermore, Francis of Assisi’s prayer includes “to be loved as to love.”

It may that in the Hindu Gita, love itself is not so explicitly mentioned by Krishna, whereas taking refuge in and worshiping Krishna are more explicitly demanded, yet this does not mean that devotional love is not much desired by Krishna in the Gita as by the Christian God. Rather, it may be the case that Christianity builds on the passage in Deuteronomy to be known as the religion of love, hence both Paul and Augustine wrote that God is love. Devotion is to be directed to pure (agape) love itself. Is this the epitome of bhukti, or is the Hindu articulation really all that different from being devoted to love personified (or as an entity, rather than impersonal), especially considering the example of Ramakrishna in the nineteenth century?  After all, as a Hindu devotee of Kali the goddess of death, Ramakrishna was so authentically and lovingly devoted to her that a brahmin priest let Ramakrishna speak extemporaneously during a ritual. His devotion to Kali was certainly no less than that of Thérèse of Lisieux and that of Gertrud of Helfta to the Christian Lord Jesus. Both women were cloistered Christian nuns; at the very least they had few distractions, so they could devote themselves entirely to being devoted in love to Jesus.

Taking refuge in Krishna is not so far off, and, as stated above, it is more emotional than knowing Krishna’s higher nature epistemologically. It may be that the intimacy itself (e.g., high trust) that is inherent in taking refuge in a deity is none other than love, as in the old expression, where there’s smoke, there’s fire; or, taking refuge could be in terms of ontological dependence that is a micro reflection of the fact that creation is dependent on Krishna’s creative force. Perhaps in teasing out the relationship between love and radical dependence, taking refuge in Krishna can be compared with the bridal imagery that has been so often appropriated by Christian mystics—nuns being known as brides of Christ. Certainly historically, there has been much interpersonal and societally-structured dependence in the marriage relationship between a husband and a wife; presumably love has existed in at least some of those relationships in spite of the dependence of (especially pregnant) wives on their respective “bread winners.”

Origen of Alexandria (185-254 CE) wrote on the Song of Songs of the Old Testament, treating the religious poem as an allegory of the relationship between the soul and God. According to Navarette, for Origin “the bride symbolizes the soul, while the bridegroom represents Christ”, and the objective is to “cultivate an intimate relationship with the Divine.”  In his presentation, Navarette also cited Bernard of Clairvaux, who, in his book, On Loving God, advances the idea that, according to Navarette, “besides reverence, there is the intimacy such that a bride has with her bridegroom.”  For Bonaventure too, “to attain God includes the imagery of a bride and bridegroom.” Similarly, Ramakrishna thought of himself as married to Kali, and to be married to the goddess of death is no small commitment. Moreover, how could any loving devotion of a creature such as Man not involve radical dependence, for neither in Hinduism nor in Christianity does a divinity need to create a world out of some kind of lack in the divine itself.

Even though Christianity’s core is that God itself is (selfless) love, love devoted to Krishna is certainly salient in the devotionalism. Even so, devotional love being directed to love itself (agape) does seem to be a good candidate to be known as the epitome of bhakti. This is not to say that Christian devotionalism is superior to Hindu bhakti; rather, it is to raise the thought, what if Krishna’s higher nature were exclusively love itself? Would that change how devotion to Krishna is to be interpreted in the Gita and practiced by bhukti practitioners?

In his presentation, Navarette discussed the work the scholar, Francis Clooney, who pioneered the field of comparative theology. Navarette cited Clooney’s contention that “even partial common ground can strengthen our own religious convictions.” Perhaps Krishna’s description of devotion to Him can be useful to a Christian who is trying to love Jesus better. Moreover, in Hindu God, Christian God, Clooney, according to Navarette, predicts that the “fixed boundaries separating religions become all the less plausible . . . because the theological insights arising in comparative study will push those boundaries.” For example, Clooney claims that a Christian could accept the virtues of Narayana, who is the protector of all who has supreme mercy.[5] Sounds a lot like Jesus, doesn’t it? Preaching God’s mercy instead of drumming divine wrath into everyone’s heads in the Gospel stories, Jesus can be seen as a reformer in Judaism. To be sure, unrepentant sinners, such as “Christian” clergy who rape children, deserve divine wrath, but this should not prevent other people from realizing that divine mercy opens up the possibility of love, which presumably includes that which a religious devotee directs to a deity. Given the ontological chasm between deities and the created realm, which includes us, mercy opening up a space for love can create the sort of intimacy that collapses distance, and this can apply not only vertically, but also as benevolentia universalis.



1. Gita 7.1 in Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 171.
2. Gita 7.28 in Ibid., p. 177.
3. John 13:1-17 (in The New Testament).
4. Bhagavata Purana, tenth canto 80:20-26.
5. Vedanta Desika, Rahasya Traya Saram (14th century).

Friday, March 14, 2025

Renunciation in Hinduism

The concept of renunciation in Hinduism has been subject to astonishingly different interpretations. Renunciation has been thought to necessitate meditation that one’s self is essentially the same as brahman, which is being itself, which can be realized by focusing on being conscious, or aware, without distracting thoughts and desires. This is Shankara’s position, whereas Ramanuja, who emphasized Bhukti devotion to the god Krishna, saw renunciation as detachment from desires without giving up action. Detached action or meditation. Which is preferred. In the Bhagavad-Gita, the former has the upper hand, but that does not mean that the text does not contain contradicting passages. It may that transcending contradiction lies above knowledge as well as renunciation in either of its meanings.

In chapter 5 of the Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna that dispassionate action is superior to renunciation. Regarding renunciation and Karma-Yoga, “the Karma-Yoga is better than (mere) renunciation of action.”[1] In the next chapter, Krishna essentially redefines renunciation as pertaining to 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.[2] In short, not only is karma-yoga better than renunciation of action, the latter but not the former is actually renunciation. This is antithetical to Advaita philosophy, so it is difficult for me to conceive of how it and Gita 6.1 can be reconciled, but why must everything be reconciled in a religious text, a faith-narrative, if it contains different paths that lead to the same end even though they jostle for supremacy over the other means? Historical and form criticism pale in comparison to resisting the temptation to eclipse the distinctly religious meaning in a faith-narrative. Hans Frei, in Eclipse of the Biblical Narrative, advocates focusing on the meaning while reading and studying a religious text. This approach was arguably the Yale hermeneutical theology, Brevard Child’s canonical method notwithstanding, during at least the last few decades of the twentieth century.

Even though Frei’s hermeneutic is applicable even to Hinduism, positing one, consistent religious meaning onto the Gita may actually be but a gloss imported from the Abrahamic religions in place of what are actually several distinct, even contradictory religious meanings. Wittgenstein’s notion of family resemblances may be apt in describing the relations thereof, but even that notion does not account for contradictions. Foisting one consistent religious meaning on a text may also be a projection of the rationalist reader rather than being in the text itself. Lest such a reader be disappointed, liberation (moksa) can be said to be a Hegelian synthesis at a higher level than either interpretation of renunciation. Brahman itself, including the consciousness (raw awareness) that being itself has (or is), transcends pairs of opposites, whereas the Gita itself does not.

To be sure, that text does point beyond its internal contradictions, and thus itself. After having Krishna assert that a person “who does not hate or hanker after (anything) is to be known as a perpetual renouncer,” the author has that deity state: “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, a person’s atman (self) being in reality the same as Brahman. 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, which is being itself. Even the apparent contradiction in that which has been extinguished being in being is transcended by a yogin.

Hence, a scripture itself can imply that the pairs-of-opposites within it can be, and in fact actually are, transcended by enlightened readers. Moreover, as the example of the nineteenth-century Hindu mystic Ramakrishna illustrates, scripture itself can be transcended by genuine religious experience, such as in devotion to a deity. It is a pity that literalist religionists hold such people back in what Nietzsche calls the ressentiment of the weak who foist, “Thou shalt not!” to beguile the strong, free-spirits from confidently exercising their innate strength. Breathing in bad air can compromise a person’s vitality. Whether or not to apply philosophical texts in interpreting religious texts is just one instance of the tension, the strong being bold in drawing on what is for others exogenous material.

In Gita 6.8, Krishna lauds the yogin whose “self is satisfied with knowledge and worldly knowledge.”[5] Is he referring respectively to scripture and secular book-knowledge? If so, then the earlier verse in which Krishna states that certain “ascetics of severe vows” offer “material-objects as sacrifice, austerity (tapas) as sacrifice, Yoga as sacrifice, and knowledge (gained from) study as sacrifice” seems to be contradicted.[6] But not everything listed is exogenous to religion, as yoga is included. Furthermore, Feuerstein claims that the compound svadhyaya-jnana “could possibly be translated as ‘book knowledge,’ but the phrase could also mean ‘knowledge and study.”[7] Especially the latter translation does not in itself exclude the study of a scriptural text, such as the Upanishads or the Gita. I may have projected the contradiction that exists in historical Christianity, wherein Paul eschewed the knowledge of Athens and yet Augustine and Aquinas drew copiously on Plato and Aristotle, respectively (though not completely respectively). Drawing on Eliade and Geertz, it may be said that knowing the otherness of the other requires bracketing (époché) one’s own background.  Adding Nietzsche, it can be said that a sufficient strength of will-power is necessary to master the seemingly intractable instinctual (innate) urges of egotism.


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.
5. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 159.
6. Gita 4.28 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 143.
7. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 143n29.

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Hindu Mysticism: Transcending Deities

In his religiosity, Ramakrishna (1836-1885), a Hindu mystic and priest at a temple of the goddess Kali, the goddess of death, drew on the Bhakti (devotee), (Advaita) Vedanta, and Tantra aspects of Hinduism, as well as on Islam and Christianity to a much lesser extent, toward his goal of realizing God, which can also be put in terms of achieving self-knowledge of one’s true nature (atman). In the Bhavagad-Gita, Arjuna demands to see the god Krishna as he really is, but Krishna has to hold himself back, showing himself in (human) bodily form, albeit with a myriad of heads. Even a distended form such as this is too much for Arjuna. Moreover, ignorance cannot take in reality or awareness itself without it being adorned in anthropomorphic (i.e., having human characteristics) ornaments that Hume discusses in his Natural History of Religion. Krishna’s promise in the Gita is relevant, in “that, through His Maya, He will assume a human body and manifest His powers whenever religion declines, and will help [people] to obtain peace.”[1] It is through illusion that a deity assumes the likeness of a human form because seeing a deity’s essence in Brahman is simply too much for mere mortals.

Being corporeal, the human body resonates with the selfish, greed-instigating materialism that Swami Vivekananda, Ramakrishna’s closest disciple, claims, albeit with more than a tinge of resentment, is associated with modern (i.e., twentieth-century) Western civilization. The secularity in the West, especially with the epistemological reduction to empiricism further narrowed to natural science, “could not lead [people] to the knowledge of Atman,” or, I might add, to Brahman (and that Atman is really of Brahman).[2] In other words, “knowledge obtained through the senses will not enable [people in the West] to discover the reality beyond time and space,” especially in a decadent culture “founded on self-love, desire for worldly possessions and absence of faith in religion.”[3] Instead, knowledge of a person's own soul "is through self-control [of the mind as by meditation or renunciation], selflessness, and introspection."[4] 

Seeing the “face” of the divine as embodied in personified forms only gets a person so far if the goal of realizing the divine lies inherently beyond the limits of human resemblance, or, as Dionysius wrote, beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and sensibility (i.e., emotions). Because Ramakrishna went beyond empirical representations of Kali in worshipping the divine “Mother,” such transcendence was very much a part of his mature religious belief-structure and practice.

For example, Tantric ritual centers around the worship of shakti, which literally means “energy, ability, strength, effort, power, might, and capability.”[5] In Hinduism, shakti is the universal power that underlies and sustains everything that exists. Shakti connotes femininity, and is synonymous with Devi, the goddess consort of Shiva, who furnishes the power (or energy) of the male deity. In Tantric Shaktism, Shakti is the principal deity, hence being akin to Brahman.[6] The goal of tantric practice is to transcend the tall hedge that separates the holy and unholy and thus achieve moksha, or liberation by seeing everything in the world as manifestations of shakti.[7]

In Christian terms, Gertrud of Helfta’s visions of Jesus as her divine spouse included one vision of Jesus lifting over the divide between the sacred and the profane, where she sees the wounds on his resurrected body, but this empirical representation may belie Gertrud’s claim of being transported to the divine side. To be sure, Gertrud’s goal of being in God, whose essence is (agape) love, which Calvin, unlike Augustine, thought people could have in this world, transcends being married to Jesus, and thus marital union, but her worship and visions did not go so far. Her image of Christ, as a “mask of eternity,”[8] became her final obstruction to even deeper, immersive union with God qua divine rather than erotic love. From his Confessions, it can be concluded that Augustine may have been held back in from achieving further transcendence by the same obstacle.

In contrast, Ramakrishna’s worship in nineteenth-century India went beyond the bodily representation of Kali to the goddess being essentially Brahman, which transcends the very notion of a deity (i.e., an entity that encapsulates the divine as personified). When asked about Kali worship, Ramakrishna said, “I do not worship Kali made of clay and straw. My Mother is the conscious principle. My Mother is pure Satchidananda—Existence-Knowledge-Bliss-Absolute. That which is infinite and deep is always dark-coloured. The extensive sky is dark-coloured and so it the deep sea. My Kali is infinite, all-pervading, and consciousness itself.”[9] Darkness represents mystery, as in being ineffable (i.e., the unknown). In Hinduism, Brahman, and any god or goddess deemed to be supreme and thus sharing Brahman-qualities, is the darkness within the stone idol of Kali that, being inside the statue, knows no form.

Regarding his vision of Kali, Ramakrishna said, “in my heart of hearts, there was flowing a current of intense bliss, never experienced before, and I had the immediate knowledge of the Light that was Mother.”[10] On another occasion, Ramakrishna described the vision as follows: “(I)n whatever direction I looked, I found a continuous succession of effulgent waves coming forward, raging and storming from all sides with a great speed. Very soon they fell on me and made me sink to the unknown bottom.”[11] He “saw a conscious sea of light. But what about the divine Mother’s form consisting of pure consciousness only”?[12] Did Ramakrishna see that form? Saradananda assumes so because Ramakrishna “uttered repeatedly the word ‘Mother’ in a plaintive voice.”[13] I find it spurious reasoning to conclude that such an utterance means that Ramakrishna’s vision was limited Kali’s female form—such a form would detract from seeing pure consciousness as a sea of light. Saradananda’s notion that the divine Mother’s form consists “of consciousness only” suggests that form is not being used here to refer to that of the human body. Indeed, immediately after the vision, Ramakrishna was still begging the goddess to show herself to him.[14] But, then, as Ramakrishna would later report, after he lost consciousness under the weight of such “unbearable anguish,” he “saw that form of the Mother with hands that give boons and freedom from fear—the form that smiled, spoke and consoled and taught me in endless ways!”[15] I contend that the vision of a “conscious sea - light”—consisting of “pure consciousness”—can be distinguished as more transcendent, and more wholly other (than us), than the female form of the Goddess that he saw while he was unconscious. His vision went beyond the goddess as an embodied entity to grasp the goddess’s essence as Brahman.

The shift in transcendence can be seen in Ramakrishna’s realization when he was “having the divine vision of the child Rama constantly,” being “(a)bsorbed in the meditation of that divine form in the mood of maternal affection towards Him, that, as Ramakrishna put it, “’Rama, who is the son of Dasaratha, is in every being; the same Rama is immanent in the universe and yet transcends it.’”[16] The “divine form” of the child Rama cannot hold Rama “entering the universe and eternally manifesting Himself as it” and being “ever existent in His own attributeless nature devoid of Maya [illusion] and beyond everything in the universe.”[17] Once Ramakrishna had reached the point of his life when he was engaged in his religious exercises, he would stay in a mood until “it experienced its ultimate limit, getting at last a glimpse of the non-dual consciousness beyond.”[18] To put it plainly, “seeing” the face of God in such rawness blows away not just the form of a child, whether in Hinduism or Christianity, but form itself. As Dionysius points out in his text, even the notion of an entity is taken from our experience of the world in which we live, rather than being necessarily applicable to a deity’s essence as Brahman, or, in Christianity, divine love (agape).

Such transcendence would translate into Gertrud of Helfta, a Medieval Christian nun, transcending her experience and vision of loving marital union with Christ to go on to experience indwelling in divine love itself, being in God rather than merely in relation to God. Similarly, such transcendence goes beyond Ramakrishna’s own practice of the Madhura-bhava, the “sweet mood as of the spouse of God.”[19] With Ramakrishna being “ever desirous to have the love of Krishna,” as Gertrud was in regard to the love of Jesus, that Ramakrishna “was a male person disappeared altogether and every thought, word or movement of his became womanly”—even wearing women’s dresses for six months—“in the faith that he was the spiritual consort of God.”[20] Gertrud didn’t have to change genders mentally and spiritually because she was a woman and Jesus is incarnated as a man, but she too viewed herself as a spiritual consort of a deity. But unlike Gertrud’s spiritual transcendence to spiritual matrimonial love, Ramakrishna’s religious experience and vision of the goddess being a “wonderful state of complete absorption in” the goddess transcends marital union and even a vision of the goddess’s hands and smile.[21] Put another way, Ramakrishna’s practice wherein his will perfectly reflects that of Kali as though being in the goddess compares to Gertrud’s unrealized goal of being in God, which is a more perfect union than is her liturgical marital union with Jesus and Ramakrishna’s “unbounded yearning for the complete”—only it is not complete even as an ideal!—"union for all times without a break with one’s darling of the heart.”[22] Even though “cruelly obstructed by manifold barriers,” the marital union sought may seem to be complete without such barriers, but this is not so relative to the deeper union as is evinced in dwelling in the divine.[23]

In short, Ramakrishna went further—transcended deeper—than Gertrud had because he surpassed even Kali manifesting as a deity ironically through intense devotion to that goddess. Gertrud had achieved only so much in her marital visions and experience of Jesus as her spiritual spouse, just as Ramakrishna could not hope to achieve a complete union as Krishna’s consort even if there were not a hedge between us and the gods.

That Ramakrishna went deeper in experiencing Kali than he could as Krishna’s consort, even with the efficacy of the method-acting bringing forth genuine female spirituality, is not to say that Ramakrishna ceased to have visions of the goddess in anthropomorphic terms. Before his vision, while worshipping and meditating, he “used to see a hand of the divine Mother or a foot, bright and delicate, or Her sweet, affectionate and smiling face, supremely beautiful. Now he saw, even at times other than those of worship and meditation, the full figure of the effulgent Mother, smiling and speaking, guiding and accompanying him and saying, ‘Do this, don’t do that.’”[24] In the years when Ramakrishna was practicing Tantric rituals (Sadhana), he had visions of “the divine Mother Herself dwelling in the female form.”[25]

Although used by one of Ramakrishna’s disciples to argue that Ramakrishna’s love as a devotee for the divine Mother and as a woman-attired consort of Lord Krishna was qualitatively different than the love that we mere humans who are not incarnations of a god (i.e., avatars) have, differentiations of kinds of love having differing relations to body can be used to understand how seeing the face of divinity beyond the particular deity’s form is more transcendent, and thus richer in terms of religious experience and insight, than devotional love that is oriented to an embodied deity. Swami Saradananda distinguishes love as “the attraction of one body for another” from “the attraction towards the aggregate of the noble qualities manifested in a particular body”—the latter being “so-called transcendental love” rather than love whose reference point is “free from the consciousness of the gross body and subtle desires for enjoyment.”[26] Both of these degrees or kinds of love are less than the best from a religious standpoint because they can be had by people who identify with their body “and conscious of being that alone.”[27] Ramakrishna did not identify with his embodied form, and certainly not with that alone, so he was able to have “true transcendental love.”[28] Because such love is greater than love of abstract qualities of an embodied person, I contend that the truly transcendent love transcends that of devotion or matrimony to a deity that is viewed as having a body, and thus a form. Even subjecting the divine to a form lessens it, as, for instance in Christianity God voluntarily lowers itself in selfless, or self-emptying love (agape) by becoming incarnated in a human body (i.e., Jesus).

David Hume’s theory of the human mind that it cannot hold onto or envision divine simplicity for long without retreating back to imagery that is familiar can explain the human preference for embodied gods (i.e., subjecting divinity to form). To be sure, Hume overlooked how the experience of transcending the divine clothed in familiar garb can transform the ornaments. Ramakrishna, for example, could “see an extraordinary ray of light coming out beaming from Her eyes, touching all the offered articles, taking their essential parts and withdrawing itself into Her eyes.”[29] The light transforms Her eyes, such that they become less familiar and more “other.” Similarly, as if the stone image of Kali were but training wheels on a small child’s bicycle, Ramakrishna reached the point of no longer needing to see the idol to see “the living Mother Herself, all consciousness, and with hands that offered boons and freedom from fear.”[30] When he was practicing Tantric rituals (Sadhana) from 1861-1863, “there was no limit to the number of the [goddess’] forms, ranging from the two-armed to the ten-armed.”[31] Ramakrishna’s visions of the goddess’ presence came to no longer reflect the engraved stone renditions of Kali, and that enabled the arms to differ from the two that human bodies have.

Ramakrishna could even transcend even the dichotomy that I have used as paradigm of sorts of the divine in a familiar form versus love (the Christian God) or pure consciousness (Brahman). Ramakrishna had a vision, for instance, of “the divine mother’s form, consisting of consciousness only.” The transformation of form itself by having transcended it can be regarded as the epitome of how transcending deified form can transform how a devotee sees form.

The implications should not be ignored, for from reflecting on them our own perspective of liturgy and worship itself can be radically changed. Even the scripture as guidelines for Ramakrishna’s liturgy could be seen as training wheels, for Ramakrishna’s worship as the priest of a Kali temple “passed beyond the prescribed limit of the devotion enjoined by the scriptures and took a speedy course along the exalted path of pure devotional love.”[32] Imagine a Roman Catholic priest putting the written Eucharistic prayer aside to speak spontaneously in devotional love for Jesus even in consecrating the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, and the superordinate bishop telling the laity to let the priest be led so by the love. Imagine Gertrud of Helfta taking off her wedding band and dress to walk naked into a sea of divine love that transcends even the Incarnation, and thus marital union with Christ. The established rituals in religious liturgies can be seen from this mature religiosity as but firm guardrails for spiritual that to spiritual adults no longer look solid. The examples of Ramakrishna and mystics of other religions are worth our study lest it be only garden-variety eros and ego rather than spiritual maturity that relegate the hedges that spiritual children need. Fortunately, Mathur at Janbazar had the spiritual insight to recognize that Ramakrishna’s intense devotional love for the goddess had filled the temple “with an intense manifestation of palpable divine presence,” which certainly justified him having taken off the liturgical training wheels to act by the faith of his devotional love.

It can be argued antithetically, however, that transcending the goddess as a deity-entity to be engulfed in pure consciousness, or Brahman (i.e., Kali is essentially Brahman), may be considered to be devoid of distinctly religious content. Losing even the anthropomorphic garb of the goddess could mean leaving the religious domain for the tautology of consciousness of the whole. If this is a valid argument, then Ramakrishna’s holding onto to some visually-human attributes, such as having a hand and a smile, after ironically seeing (i.e., transcending) Kali’s “face” as pure consciousness itself, is necessary. That is to say, transcending a familiar mask of eternity to dwell in an absolute union with the divine may not obviate human (or familiar) images of a beloved deity. In this case, that such images are transformed, as, for example, Christ’s resurrected body is transformed and not the same as his earthly body, is crucial.



1.  Swami Saradananda, Sri Ramakrishna: The Great Master, Jagadananda, trans. (Madras, IN: Sri Ramakrishna Math Mylapore, 1952), p. 16.
2. Ibid. p. 13.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Monier Williams, Monier-Williams Sanskrit-English Dictionary.
6. Vanamali, Shakti: Realm of the Divine Mother (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2008).
7. Carl T. Jackson, Vedanta for the West (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1994).
8. This term was coined by Joseph Campbell, a mid-twentieth century scholar of religion who, like Ramakrishna, emphasized what religions have in common, as per his “gracious message: As many faiths, so many paths and You will realize the divine Lord through any spiritual practice performed with a sincere heart.” Saradananda, The Great Master, p. 16.
9. Swami Chetanananda, Ramakrishna as We Saw Him (St. Louis: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1990), p. 404.
10. Saradananda, The Great Master, p. 140.
11. Ibid., p. 141.
12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid., p. 215.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid., p. 231.
19. Ibid., p. 149, 143.
20. Ibid., p. 233.
21. Ibid., p. 149, 143.
22. Ibid., p. 235.
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid., p. 143.
25. Ibid. p. 201.
26. Ibid., p. 235.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid., p. 143.
30. Ibid., p. 144.
31. Ibid., p. 202.
32. Ibid., p. 147. See also p. 149: “The Master had then gone beyond the limits of devotion enjoined by the scriptures and became engaged in the worship and other services of the divine Mother with Ragatmika devotion.” The use of the word, “enjoined,” can, I submit, be taken as a euphemism for what in more practical terms is more akin to “prescribed” or even “mandated.” That love in devotion to an entity that is but stone or wood in form within the boundaries of our earthly domain can be sufficient for a devotee to walk through the wall of encrusted requirements backed up by religious authorities tells us something about the sheer intensity that such love can reach in the human mind/soul (animus).