Sunday, March 16, 2025

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.


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.

Saturday, March 8, 2025

On Brahman Becoming Embodied as Krishna

In the Bhagavad-Gita, the personal deity Krishna explains to Arjuna to process by which Krishna becomes embodied. This raises the question, what is Krishna unembodied? Although one candidate is Brahma, the personal god of creation, I contend that the answer is Brahman, which is being, consciousness, and bliss. Brahman is unmanifest, so how is it that being itself, even if conscious, can have a will and a creative agency, or ability, to manifest as a personal deity? The notion of Brahman is completely foreign to the Abrahamic religions, wherein a personal deity is the creator and has perfect being. So it is worth thinking about how, and even whether, a personal deity like Krishna can manifest by the will and creative force (maya) of Brahman.

“Although [I am] unborn, the immutable Self, [and] although being the Lord of [all] beings—[yet] by governing My own nature (prakriti), I come-to-be through the creative-power (maya) of Myself.”[1] (Gita 4.6) Is “come-to-be” a good translation of smbhavamy? If so, the prime facie implication is that “the immutable Self,” which is “unborn” and “the Lord of [all] beings,” has no being (i.e., existence), for it comes-to-be when it is embodied, or born. Shakara describes brahman as unmanifest and immutable being, so there seems to be a contradiction, although Lord of [all] creatures (which can perhaps be finessed as “beings”) is used in the Upanishads for Brahma.

As described by Malinar, Krishna “makes the power of creation (prakrti 4.6) act according to his will and produce an outward form for him: ‘Although I am unborn and imperishable and the Lord of creatures indeed, I transform nature who is mine and take birth through (or as) an appearance of myself. The creative process described in this verse draws on two concepts: (1) prakrti, nature, the agent of creation according to Samkhya; and (2) maya, the exceptional power and capacity of gods and other beings to produce forms and disguises for themselves.”[2] Unlike the Feuersteins, Malinar uses “creatures” rather than “beings.” Also, prakriti is “the agent of creation” and maya pertains to “gods and other beings.” All this inclines me to conclude that Brahma rather than Brahman is the unembodied referent.

In Warrier’s translation of Shakara’s commentary, the verse as: “Though unborn and though the immutable Self and the Lord of all living beings, resorting to My power of becoming, through My Maya, I take birth.”[3] The use of the word, “becoming,” rather than coming-into-being obviates problematic implication of no unembodied existence. Furthermore, the problematic notion that the unembodied Krishna is Brahma, another personal deity, can be tossed out because the unembodied Krishna is “the master of all beings from Brahma down to a tuft of grass”.[4] Also, “My power of becoming is all-pervasive,” which also fits with the nature of the unmanifest Brahman becoming manifest.[5] It is not as though unmanifest Brahman does not exist; in fact, it is being (as well as consciousness and bliss, though Shankara denies the latter attribute). But how can being and even consciousness itself have a will and “cognitive power,” which “never wanes”?[6] These attributes are more fitting for a personal deity, such as Brahma and an embodied Krishna. I would expect Shankara to have done so, and regard them as maya rather than having the reality of being.



1. Gita 4.6. Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 137.
2. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 95.
3. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya of Sri Samkaracarya. Trans. A. G. Warrier (Madras, IN: Sri Ramakrishna Math), pp. 137-38.
4. Ibid., p. 138.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.

Sunday, March 2, 2025

Electing a Pope

In the film, The Godfather, Part III (1990),  Cardinal Lamberto laments that Christianity, like water surrounding a stone that is in a water fountain, has not seeped into European culture even after centuries of being in Europe.  Watching the movie, Conclave (2024), a person could say the same thing about the Roman Catholic Church, though the ending does provide some hope that internecine fighting and pettiness for power, even aside from the sexual-abuse epidemic by clergy, need not win the day.


The full essay is at "Conclave."

Thursday, February 27, 2025

Is the Bhagavad-Gita Compromised?

Compared with Shankara’s non-dualist Advaita Vedanta theology, the Gita can be interpreted as a compromise between Shankara’s view and Vedic practices—essentially, between renunciation and ritual being done to get something. By this I do not mean to imply that the Gita is morally compromised; rather, I am using the word in the sense of reconciling different priorities and even relating seemingly disparate branches of a religion. In the Gita, Lord Krishna advises Arguna to fight in the upcoming military battle with equanimity as to the outcome, for attachment to desire and distancing pain both accrue karma, which in turn delays liberation. Prime facie, to be unconcerned with winning, or gaining economically, is morally superior to egoist pursuits. Superior to detached action may be the option not to fight or get rich at all, but instead to view the created realm as illusory and distance oneself even from being a doer or agent; earn enough to survive and otherwise try to come to know that one’s self is Brahman, which is Being itself, as conscious, bliss, and infinite. In straying from this, the Gita is not without problems.  

Firstly, Malinar describes karmayoga as “self-control through action that allows [a person] to act without experiencing any consequences.”[1] Is experiencing the right word, or is the phrase, being attached to, more accurate? In other words, does experiencing go too far? Malinar quotes from the Gita (3.7): “he who checks the senses with his mind and then practices self-control in action using his faculties of action without any attachment, he stands out.” To check or constrain one’s senses is not sufficient to sever one’s experience of external stimuli, including that which results from one’s actions; rather, the restraint both in mind and actions is enough to keep attachment at bay. Indeed, Malinar claims that the purpose of karmayoga is “acting without attachment.”[2] To be unattached is to experience without desiring precisely that which is experienced, even the consequences of one’s actions.

Secondly, Malinar claims that in chapter 3 of the Gita, “the prakrti concept of Samkhya philosophy is used to explain why ‘doing nothing’ is an illusion.”[3] In contrast, Shankara holds that action is illusory because the world is also illusory, whereas renunciation enables a person to get in touch with the reality that one’s individual atman is Brahman. Malinar appears to reject outright or relegate Shankara’s interpretation, perhaps according it breathing space only in chapter 2 of the Gita (v.s 11-38). In ch. 3, Malinar points out, Krishna demands, “’Carry out the ordained acts, since action is better than non-action,’ and he adds that ‘the journey in the body’ (sarirayatra) does not succeed without action. This extended, Samkhyistic meaning of karman remains the basis of much of the BhG.”[4] It may perhaps be countered that just because we must act while we are embodied in this world of scarcity does not mean that karmayoga is superior to jnanayoga as a means to liberation. Shankara admits that even ascetics must act that their sustenance needs are met, and, moreover, that such limited activity does not compromise the route of renunciation. Furthermore, just because the law of karma presupposes that all of us desire happiness does not mean that we all seek liberation (moksa). In fact, to the extent that seeking liberation (from suffering, karma, and even ontological illusion) is superior to seeking garden-variety happiness, it follows that the preponderance of the Gita is oriented to the inferior path simply because more readers are oriented to it. 

Thirdly, Malinar states that the verses (10-13) in chapter 3 of the Gita on the origin of the sacrifice ritual are in contrast with “the interpretation of sacrifice current among the followers of the Veda.”[5] I wonder if the dichotomy is not overdone here, for in the verses that Malinar quotes are the words, “will give you the desired enjoyments.” It is difficult to square such wording with what in the Gita is the exclusive function of religious ritualized sacrifice: “the cosmogonic function of sacrifice as being an integral part of creation.”[6] In other words, it may be difficult to fit with this function the claim that sacrifice “guarantees the prosperity of those who participate in [the ritual] through its retributive, reciprocal structure (parasparam).”[7] So too, the claim that “no mutual profit would be possible” unless “the separated spheres of gods and men meet, but are also kept apart” seems to go beyond ontology to include cattle (i.e., an increase in worldly goods, or wealth).[8] Sustaining “the order and orderliness of creation as a realm of mutual dependence and reciprocal relationships” is arguably more distinctly religious in nature than is the Vedic consequences of increased profit and wealth, for there are also non-religious ways of gaining the latter. Also, that a person should eat “the leftovers of a sacrifice”, according to ManuS as per Malinar, may imply that the intent in ritually sacrificing should not be oriented to personal gain.[9] It is not as with the ancient Greek priests who were allowed to eat the best portions of the cooked sacrificial animal rather than having to leave the best for a god or goddess, such as Zeus, Apollo, or Athena. I suspect, however, that Malinar’s choice of wealth-oriented words is merely unfortunate rather than suggestive of any such earthly consequentialism. Support for this interpretation comes from Malinar’s claim that “the performance of ritual is not primarily regarded as a way to fulfil one’s desires, but is turned into an occasion for proving one’s yogic detachment.”[10] Also, in discussing the word lokasamgraha, Malinar states that “the ultimate purpose of ritual action . . . does not serve primarily to achieve a goal or fulfil desires, but to contribute to the maintenance of cosmic order.”[11] The word primarily allows for some seepage in what otherwise would be a clear dichotomy between the sacrificial ritual as interpreted in the Gita and in the Vedic sources. In the Gita, doing one’s own (or one’s caste’s) social duty, or dharma, is not for the fruits of action, as the proper attitude is one of equanimity concerning pleasure and pain; rather, one is doing one’s part in holding the social order and primarily the cosmos together.

Fourthly, in its description of the wheel of ritual sacrifice, the Gita appears to contradict Brahman being the foundation qua being and consciousness, and even bliss in the sense that Brahman cannot be dependent on anything else, and cannot even be in relation to objects as a subject. As quoted by Milinar, the relevant passage in the Gita is, “and brahman arises from the ‘indestructible’ (aksara [the syllable Om]). Therefore the ubiquitous brahman is forever founded in the sacrifice (yajna).”[12] Prime facie, it is not clear that something that is “forever founded” arises at all. Buitenen’s explanation that the words brahman and aksara both refer to brahman, but can it really be said that being itself has two senses without having to admit that brahman is a composite? Regarding sacrifice as the foundation of brahman, Malinar points to the word, pratistha as “a ‘ground’ on which something established there can unfold and function.” Brahman depends on sacrifice to become “manifest and effective.”[13] Although the dependence is not so as to exist, as being and consciousness, to say that brahman depends on anything deprives it of its bliss and its situs as a foundation that does not even depend on creation, which, according to Shankara, is illusory anyway. It is as if brahman were already the basement floor of a house, and yet somebody would prefer to refer to whatever is below that floor as the real foundation of the house. To say that a house rests on dirt and thus it is the foundation of a house is not at all what construction contractors are referring to when they refer to the house’s foundation; typically, “laying the basement” is considered to be making the foundation. If how brahman manifests is a corruption of being rather than its foundation, then sacrifice depends on brahman, rather than vice versa. In short, to point out as Malinar does that “sacrifice is the cause of brahman” seems to go against the eternal essence of brahman.[14]

Fifthly, in the presumably causal partial series, “Creatures arise from food, food arises from rain, rain arises from sacrifice, sacrifice arises from (ordained) action (karman),”[15] two distinct kinds of relations are present. Creatures do not arise from food, and food from rain, like rain arises from sacrifice. Whereas the first two causal relations are in the domain of science, the third is religious in nature. To treat the entire (partial) series as if the links were qualitatively homogenous is to ignore the sui generis quality of the two domains involved in the series. People may be misled in supposing that rain arises from sacrifice in a scientifically causal sense, and that the role of food-stuffs in the growth of a biological organism is religious in nature. Such category mistakes can be occasioned by such conflations and the over-reaching of one domain onto the turf of another. Such errors have impeded greater human understanding not only of science, but also religion.  For instance, applying an empirically causal mechanism to “rain arises from sacrifice” forestalls progress in uncovering the distinctly religious nature of the relation.

In short, to the extent that chapter 3 of the Gita contradicts the previous chapter with respect to action and knowing Brahman, and thus with Shankara’s Advaita Vedantan emphasis on coming to know that an individual’s self is really Brahman rather than even a doer, the attempt at compromising with the Vedas karmayoga, and even devotion to a deity (bhukti) contains downsides. This is assuming that internal consistency in a religion is something of value. Of course, not attempting to relate disparate aspects of a religion and compromise different priorities has its own downsides. Perhaps in final analysis, we are human, all too human, so we do the best that we can in comprehending the religions that we have been left by people who have long since died. Doing the best we can may not solve every puzzle or reconcile every strand, but demarcating the domain of religion, and thus distinguishing it from other domains, is something that I contend lies within our ken.



1. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 79.
2. Ibid., p. 81.
3. Ibid., p. 79.
4. Ibid., p. 81.
5. Ibid., p. 82.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid., p. 83.
10. Ibid., p. 84.
11. Ibid., p. 87.
12. Ibid., p. 84.
13. Ibid., p. 86.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid., p. 84.

Sunday, February 23, 2025

Christian Devotionalism in Film

Brian De Palma’s film, Obsession (1976), harkens back to Hitchcock’s film, Vertigo (1958) primarily in that resemblances between a character-contrived myth, or story, and the closely related, though different in key respects, social reality in the film (i.e., what’s really going on in the film’s story-world) trigger perplexed reactions for the character being duped by other characters in the film. I thought she died, but there she is . . . or maybe that’s another woman who looks like her—so much so that I believe I can will the woman to be her. The human mind may be such that it convinces itself of even a supernatural explanation than admit that one’s own mind has been fooled by someone else’s cleverness. At the very least, resonances between the impossible and the possible can increase the uncertainty of the beholder. Doubt as to what is really going on can be stultifying, and the human mind is all too willing to fill in the gap by either resorting to a supernatural explanation or making something so as if believing it to be so is sufficient to render it really the case.


The full essay is at "Obsession."

Thursday, February 20, 2025

Religious Vision beyond Intellect: The Case of Hinduism

Can we think our way to religion, or does religious experience transcend cognition (i.e., thought)? Closely related is the question of whether theology is just a special case of philosophy or another domain altogether. The pivotal chapter 2 of the Bhagavad-Gita saga in Hinduism can be interpreted in favor of the latter: gnostic vision of the divine, such as of Krishna showing his fullness later in the myth to Arjuna, may launch off from the intellect, but without continuing as an intellectual pursuit once the threshold of religious experience is reached. By analogy, we can see the edges of a black hole in space, but we can’t see beyond its threshold, within the hole because light cannot bounce back out given the magnitude of the intense gravity that a black hole has. Similarly, a deity can be thought of as intense being—so dense that we mere mortals can only gasp in wonder when we are presented with something so far beyond the limits of human perception, emotions, and cognitions, hence the intellect too.

A trajectory from a person being merely oriented to perceiving external objects, to having wisdom that goes beyond the subject-object dichotomy, and finally on to gnosis exists in chapter 2 of the Bhagavad-Gita in the Feuersteins’ translation. The trajectory is truncated, however, in two translations of Shankara’s commentary on the Gita. Perhaps the difference is at least in part on whether (or to what degree) prajna is distinct from, and thus “higher” than, buddhi or sattva. At least to the Feuersteins, prajna  is not only higher than sattva and buddhi, but also qualitatively different than them (i.e., different in kind, not just in degree or extent).  It is in this respect that theology enters and philosophy must give way.

To trace the epistemologically ascending slope that arguably transcends epistemology itself in ending with mystical sight, we first have to get past an apparent contradiction regarding holding onto wisdom. On the question of whether the contradiction is actual or only apparent, I go with the side that is in line with the fullness of the trajectory, rather than with truncating it so it must stop with the contradiction. Whereas the intellect has trouble getting past contradictions, religious vision beholding a beatitude of divinity does not. In the Abrahamic religions, God creates the world and thus cannot be bound by contractions, even in the intellect, that are in the world—even of abstractions in the human mind.

In terms of knowing (i.e., epistemology), the domain of religion inherently goes beyond the limits of reason (i.e., thinking). Moses doesn’t analyze the burning bush in the Bible; rather, his reaction is experiential, and in a way that renders the intellect still. Religion, grace á transcendence, is unique because its essential nature includes that it goes beyond the limits of human cognition as well as emotion and perception; Pseudo-Dionysius, a sixth-century Christian theologian, wrote as much. In a way, you might say that transcending even logical contradictions is part of the trajectory. A Zen Buddhist wrestling intellectually with a koan does so precisely because the device trips up the intellect so awareness without thinking can commence.

In Hinduism, Jiva Gosvami, in his text, the Bhagavat-sandarbha, insists that the contradiction of identity and difference renders the relation between Brahman and its powers (saktis) incomprehensible (acrintya) to us. Even so, the relation “is of the very nature of the Supreme.”[1] In other words, in Caitanya Vaisnava theology, the “mystery of simultaneous difference and nondifference is embedded in every aspect of divinity.”[2] Rather than short-circuiting and thus invalidating religion, and thus faith that is distinctly religious, contradiction and incomprehensibility (as well as the sheer inexpressibility (anirvacaniya) of the world as neither real nor not real in Advaita Vedantism) distinguish the domain of religion from others and in fact are inherent to that domain.

In chapter 2 of the Gita, the trajectory begins with one of the “Traigunya, or ‘triad of primary-qualities,’ [which] refers to the three fundamental qualities (guna) of cosmic existence (prakriti): the principle of lucidity (sattva), the principle of dynamism (rajas), and the principle of inertia (tamas). Through endless combinations, these three qualities—guna means ‘strand’—make up the myriad of phenomena in the manifest world.”[3] In the Gita, Krishna says, “Become free of the triple primary-qualities, free of the pairs-of-opposites, and, O Arjuna, abide always in sattva, without (trying to) gain or keep (anything). (Be) Self-possessed!”[4] In Warrier’s translation of Shankara’s commentary on the Gita, Shankara omits any mention of abiding in sattva; instead, Krishna’s advice is to have “mastered the self,” which is identical with Brahman as this relationship is “beyond all dualities.”[5] In making the omission, Shankara may have been oriented to upholding the logical integrity of the verse.

That sattva is one of the three primary qualities and Arjuna should be free of all three renders it contradictory for Krishna to then tell Arjuna, “abide always in sattva.” To obviate the contradiction, the Feuersteins suggest that the word sattva in the phrase, “abide always in sattva,” may “in this particular context be translated as ‘truth’ or ‘reality,’ since it can hardly refer to the guna called sattva, given that Arjuna was told to step beyond the gunas, if only by implication.”[6] So, liberation (moksa), being oriented to truth or reality, transcends not only pairs-of-opposites (dvandva), “like heat/cold, dry/wet, which are apt to cause distress,”[7] but also even clear-mindedness (sattva), as no one can grasp Brahman intellectually, for according to the Gita, “no one, verily (really) knows this (Self),” which “is called unmanifest (avyakta), unthinkable, unchangeable.”[8]

Lest it be thought such a matter can so easily be settled, Krishna goes on to advise Arjuna, according to the Feuersteins’ translation: “Seek refuge in the wisdom-faculty!”[9] The word “wisdom” is a translation of the Sanskrit buddhi, which in turn is synonymous with our old friend, sattva (as a guna).[10] Shankara, as per Warrier’s translation, has “the evenness of intelligence,” and, “evenness of mind” in that of Aiyar, as alternatives to the Feuersteins’ “wisdom-faculty.”[11] The effect of these alternatives is to emphasize the cognitive aspect, which is not faculty that is distinctly religious.

In fact, Krishna goes on to say, “The wise (who are) buddhi yoked, who have renounced action-born fruit, who are liberated from the bondage of birth (and death)—they go to the region (that is) free from ill.”[12] Warrier’s Shankara again substitutes “intelligence of evenness,” this time for buddhi (which is synonymous with sattva).[13] Aiyar uses “evenness of mind” again, and adds “possessed of knowledge.”[14] Those who “are liberated” from samsara are curiously not freed from the confines of human wisdom and even knowledge. Even though a person’s wisdom-faculty is understandably capable of traversing “the thicket of delusion,” resulting in “disinterest in what will be heard and what has been heard (i.e., mundane knowledge,”[15] it is difficult to reconcile becoming free of sattva with being liberated and yet still seeking refuge in the wisdom faculty and being buddhi yoked. Something simply has to give way.

That the wisdom-faculty is to be transcended before a person reaches liberation finds support in the next verse of the Gita. Only after having been diverted by “revealed tradition,” such as in how to perform the Vedic sacrifice ritual so as to gain something (i.e., attachment, desire, fruits of actions), a person’s wisdom faculty “will stand motionless and still in ecstasy,” at which time the person “will attain to (the sublime state of) Yoga.”[16] This is tricky: sattva or buddhi is being referred to, but not in the sense of either being actively engaged. In fact, standing motionless and in ecstasy may be thought of in terms of reacting to something akin to the sacred, as in how Moses reacts to Yahweh at the burning bush or how Arjuna reacts to Krishna’s display fullness later in the Gita.

Being motionless and still, the wisdom faculty can be thought of as being transparent, like an unstained window, so refuge is then being taken deeper, to something else, in the Self qua Self, rather than as understood or filtered through the artificiality of human cognition or reasoning. In his Critique of Pure Reason, Kant postulates the impact of reason itself on how we perceive space and time. With sattva or buddhi rendered still, something else is needed to close the deal for liberation to occur.

Pivoting subtly off sattva and buddhi to prajna, the next verse in Feuerstein’s translation of the Gita has Arjuna asking Krishna, what “is the definition of the (yogin who is) steadied in gnosis, abiding in ecstasy?”[17] Whereas in previous verse it is the person’s wisdom faculty (buddhi or sattva) that is in ecstasy, here it is a person who is steadied in prajna, which the Feuersteins translate as the Greek work gnosis, which “is a higher kind of (‘mystical’) knowledge” than is sattva or buddhi.[18] He explains that to “use the Greek equivalent seemed more appropriate here than to repeat ‘wisdom,’ which goes well with buddhi,” and therefore with sattva too.[19] Krishna’s answer is that when a person “relinquishes all desires (that) enter the mind . . . and is content with the Self in the Self, then is he called steadied in gnosis.”[20] That prajna should not be thought of in terms of human knowledge or even wisdom is made very evident in the next verse that ends with “steadied in vision.”[21] Vision here is not of sight literally, for, according to the Gita, when a person “withdraws from every side his senses from the objects of the senses as a tortoise (draws its limbs), his gnosis is well established. For the non-eating embodied (dehin) (Self) the objects disappear, except for the relish. (Upon) seeing the Supreme, the relish also disappears for him.”[22] Seeing the Supreme—which can mean Krishna in full, thus transcending as a deity—is not like the seeing of objects. In fact, it is from the latter that a person’s wisdom faculty is destroyed.[23] Prajna, or gnosis, transcends rather than destroys a person’s faculty for wisdom, for “complete inner stillness” (prasada) is a condition of that faculty, and in fact that condition renders a person “qualified for the grace (prasada) of the Divine.”[24] With that facility still, hence sattva or buddhi being transcended, the experiential realization of Self as it really is (i.e. reality) can be said to be more mystical than epistemological in nature.

Shankara does not make the leap from wisdom to gnosis. For in Warrier’s translation of 2.54 the Gita, “stable wisdom” and “steadfast intelligence” are anchored in concentration, and Aiyar’s translation of the verse has “established wisdom,” all of which are a far cry from “gnosis” that is “abiding in ecstasy” and “steadied in vision.”[25] In fact, the next verse, 2.55, in the Warrier translation is: “When one wholly discards desires of the heart and becomes exclusively content with the Self, one is called a sage of stable wisdom. O Arjuna!”[26] Aiyar uses “established wisdom.”[27] In effect, prajna is just sattva or buddhi that is stable or established—neither of which sounds very vision-oriented to me.

I contend that gnosis, ecstasy, and vision are qualitatively different than wisdom and intelligence. In fact, only the former can be said to be distinctly religious, as is evident from the applicability to devotion (bhakti) to a personal deity, which Shankara eschews in favor of “the sage of stable wisdom who concerns himself with the discipline of knowledge” being applied to impersonal being that is conscious.[28] Stable wisdom here is essentially “right knowledge” as in knowing the difference between right and wrong.[29] Wisdom and understanding are both predicated on the subject-object dichotomy, which falls away, according to Feuerstein’s translation, prior to liberation: “For the non-eating embodied (dehin) [Self] the objects disappear, except for the relish. (Upon) seeing the Supreme, the relish also disappears for him.”[30] For such an ascetic, even the mind’s basic subject-object structure or paradigm dissolves. Hence when Krishna then refers to a person being “yoked (and) intent on Me,” one’s “gnosis is well established,” which in turn connotes vision, as in “seeing the Supreme,” rather than intelligence.[31] Warrier’s translation Gita 2.61 substitutes the more cognitive “deeming Me supreme” in stable wisdom.[32] Even though Krishna, a personal deity, is speaking, Shankara claims that “Deeming Me supreme” means that “Vasudeva, the inner Self of all, is supreme.”[33] Although Aiyar’s translation of Gita 2.61 has “exclusively devoted to Me,” the comment beneath the verse in the commentary describe Vasudeva as “the Innermost Self of all.”[34] Innermost renders the Self even more in terms of the impersonal Brahman, and that Vasudeva is Krishna’s father rather than Krishna himself further distances Shankara from interpreting the Gita in terms of devotion to Krishna. In chapter two of the Gita, the absolute is depicted both as Krishna (whose fullness Arjuna will eventually “see”) and the Self, as in: Be “Self-possessed!”[35]

In conclusion, whereas the Feuersteins’ translation of the Gita gets past the inherent limitations of sattva and buddhi with respect to distinctly religious transcendence by shifting to gnosis, with its distinctly religious mystical and ecstasy/visionary qualities, the two translations of Shankara’s commentary hold onto the more cognitive faculties of intelligence and wisdom through the entire process of liberation, which entails knowing not only “the whole sphere of objects to be nothing but nescience,” but also “the Self” and thus reality.[36] Although Shankara’s epistemology is arguably more conducive to philosophy than theology, the transcendence of Brahman and the identity of atman with Brahman as being not just being but conscious being is arguably distinctly religious. Even though faith can indeed seek understanding, there are problems with the claim that understanding is sufficient for faith. Ramanuja’s emphasis on devotion to Krishna (bhakti) can be interpreted as a way to bridge this gap.

If all this has your head spinning, then perhaps it is best to return to the basic difference between intellectual thinking and gnostic vision. Even though faith seeking understanding can make use of human reasoning, and thus reason itself, religion is such that it must go beyond the limits of reason alone. This does not mean that a religious congregation should dismiss its more intellectually-inclined members; rather, the point is that even they need to let go of that of themselves that is human, all too human, and in fact even themselves (and definitely their egos!) before they can jump off the diving-board and go in the pool wherein visionary experience of the sacred lives. Going on with this analogy, a person can’t experience being in water, and thus knowing what that is like, if one doesn’t jump off the diving board.  Shankara doesn’t jump off the board, and thus he will be at a loss to explain Arjuna’s experience when Krishna displays his fullness later in the Gita.



1. Ravi M. Gupta, Caitanya Vaisnava Philosophy: Tradition, Reason and Devotion (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2014), p. 56.
2. Ibid.
3. Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 107n44.
4. Gita 2.45. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 107.
5. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya of Sri Samkaracarya, Trans. A.G. Warrier (Madras, India: Sri Ramakrishna Math), p. 66.
6. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 107n46.
7. Ibid., p. 97n19.
8. Gita 2.29, 25. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 101.
9. Ibid., 2.49. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 109.
10. The word wisdom “goes well with buddhi,” and sattva “is a common synonym for buddhi.” Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, pp. 111n53 and 107n46. Completing this syllogism, wisdom is synonymous with sattva.
11. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 70; Shankara, Sri Sankara’s Gita Bhashya, trans. C.V. Ramachandra Aiyar (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1988), p. 78.
12. Gita 2.51. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 109.
13. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 72.
14. Shankara, Sri Sankara’s Gita Bhashya (Aiyar), p. 80.
15. Gita 2.52. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 109.
16. Ibid., 2.53. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 109.
17. Ibid., 2.54. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 111.
18. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 111n53.
19. Ibid.
20. Gita 2.55. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 111.
21. Ibid., 2.56. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 111.
22. Ibid., 2.58-9. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 113.
23. Ibid., 2.63. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 113.
24. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 113n59.
25. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 75; Shankara, Sri Sankara’s Gita Bhashya (Aiyar), p. 82.
26. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 76. Italics added.
27. Shankara, Sri Sankara’s Gita Bhashya (Aiyar), p. 83.
28. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 76.
29. Ibid., p. 80.
30. Gita 2.59. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 113.
31. Ibid., 2.61. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 113.
32. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 81.
33. Ibid.
34. Shankara, Sri Sankara’s Gita Bhashya (Aiyar), p. 88.
35. Gita., 2.45. In Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 107.
36. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya (Warrier), p. 88.