by Sesa Dasa, Vol. 10

Rasamandala Dasa

I was happy to read Sesa’s article in ICJ (Vol. 10), specifically for its potential to initiate constructive debate on a topic that has received scant attention within ISKCON. In discussing the subject of values and virtues, Sesa moves through a broad range of issues. Drawing from his own experience in the US army, he usefully alludes to the dangers of elitism, particularly within an institution that is insulated from mainstream society. Reflecting on the aftermath of 9/11, he intuitively rejects any sense of loyalty, and sentiments such as unity, purpose, and certainty, that are grounded in enmity; an enemy who resides ‘out there’, who is forever the outsider, one of ‘them’ rather than one of ‘us’. His comments reminded me of the attitudes reflected in many contemporary religions (or, more accurately, individuals and factions within them). He identifies his disquiet as being underpinned by his own conviction that a genuine religious or spiritual path is introspective, addressing, ‘the need to become a better person’. Subsequently he explores some of the virtues recommended in texts such as Bhagavad-gita. However, his main theme targets the tensions between material and spiritual duties. Exploring the story of the brahmana called Kausika, he specifically identifies within ISKCON a tendency towards its own brand of elitism, dubbed ‘premature transcendence syndrome’, which may have led members into believing that the process of self-realisation exempted them from acting morally or from focusing on character formation. He proposes that ISKCON now makes it a priority to endorse and strengthen its family values, suggesting that these, for most of us, are not at odds with the path of spiritual life, but essential to it. He concludes that the practice of virtue is essential in developing not just theoretical knowledge (jnana) but wisdom (vijnana).

The issues raised by Sesa’s essay are diverse. In trying to identify a common theme, I recall a colleague’s observation: ‘We should no longer try to squeeze the world into ISKCON, but ensure that ISKCON appropriately enters the world’. Sesa’s emphasis on the grhastha asrama (household life) alludes to that process whereby an individual, having imbibed spiritual responsibility, leaves the protective confines of the guru’s hermitage to adopt broader social duties. This subject is relevant to some social phenomena within ISKCON: the lack of systematic education within the brahmacari (celibate student) asrama; the questionable attitudes developed therein, such as the misconception that brahmacarya is more elevated than grhastha life; and the inordinate esteem given to external renunciation at the expense of personal integrity. Hence the dialectic between worldly and spiritual duties, as Sesa explores, is often paralleled by tensions between renunciates and householders. Evidence is found in Sri Caitanya-caritamrta of how Caitanya showed deep affection for both sannyasis and grhasthas. His discrimination was different. As illustrated in the story of Chota Haridasa (Antya-lila, Chapter 2), he was ruthless in condemning hypocrisy, the antithesis of integrity.

Sesa builds on his theme by explaining how personal integrity is enshrined within the practice of dharma, religiously ordained duties. He usefully disabuses the widespread notion that the Vedic (Hindu) concept of dharma is blind and non-reflective. He points to scriptural evidence supporting the need for careful consideration of consequences, implying that the Vedic tradition interweaves strong elements of utilitarianism within a deontological approach. The reflective and anecdotal nature of his essay models the need for ISKCON members to develop the skills of relating life-experiences to sastra, of establishing a reflexive dialogue between personal perceptions and scriptural views; and, indeed, of evaluating one’s own conduct against expected values. This dialogical approach may well be part of the process of developing what Sesa calls vijnana (wisdom, or realised knowledge). He also implies that personal authority (and the system of varnasrama) should be based on actual qualities rather than position or birthright, thus contesting the misplaced idea (within much academia) that varnasrama and current caste practice are synonymous. ISKCON follows in the footsteps of Caitanya, who unequivocally opposed the (hereditary) caste-system. Significantly, his rejection is based on a theology of transcendence. In the light of Sesa’s analysis, it might be rewarding to examine whether ISKCON has developed its own forms of caste-ism, by which status and authority are inordinately determined by gender, asrama, or spiritual ‘parentage’.

It is only too easy, however, to discuss ISKCON in a mood of negative criticism. Sesa admirably avoids this, as his endorsement of personal integrity demands. In any spiritual tradition, it is natural that there is difference between the ideal and the real; this itself does not constitute hypocrisy. Rather, the real question is whether members, individually and socially, are striving to reduce any such disparities. Sesa’s article thus encourages the ISKCON leadership (using the term broadly) to ask pertinent questions, such as, ‘What values have we factually encouraged in our members? Are they congruent with our teachings? What are the social and educational processes by which values are developed?’ Furthermore, we might ask, ‘In any society, who is responsible for the predominant values and organisational culture?’ Although Sesa implies that we ourselves become agents of change, he does not sufficiently explore the roles of ‘key players’, such as teachers, parents, and administrative leaders.

Sesa’s study thus raises more questions than it answers. That, I suspect, was his intention. However, there are some questions that remain conspicuously unanswered. Sesa rightly proposes that values and virtues can be found in all societies. However, we might legitimately ask, ‘Do common values exist?’ For example, there are tensions between traditional, faith-based virtues and more popular values (one reason, not necessarily valid, why a spiritual society may resist contact with ‘the outside world’). Chastity, though important to Sesa, is not popular these days.

Another passage from Sesa’s article that requires further exploration is the butcher’s statement: ‘One whose heart is naturally inclined towards truthfulness, charity, and non-violence, is actually a virtuous person’. This idea that we can be virtuous in attitude despite our behaviour could easily be misconstrued. Thus, the causal inter-relationship between values and conduct requires further elaboration. Although, on one hand, Sesa explores ‘premature transcendence’, he neglects (perhaps through lack of space) to explore the opposite pole: spiritual complacency standing on the moral high ground of worldly duties.

What Sesa’s article admirably highlights is that these issues, tensions, and (apparent) ambiguities are not easy to resolve; certainly not through dichotomous thinking. Sesa refers to ‘the divisive us and them mentality’. Ironically, such sectarianism might be a feature not only of over-identification with the body, family, country, etc., but also of aversion to interacting with the mundane, often in the name of transcendence.

In dealing with these dialectics, Sesa implicitly refers to another subject pertinent to ISKCON’s future: the whole issue of continuity and change. What ensures the authentic perpetuation of any tradition? What can we legitimately change? What must be preserved at all costs? Sesa suggests the centrality of core values as expressed through narrative. Of his chosen story, he writes: ‘Although set in ancient times [it is] adaptable to the modern world’. Whether emphasis on values and virtues alone can ensure effective continuity requires further dialogue.

Sesa’s article thus prompts a further query: ‘What are the qualities and virtues required of those engaged in such debate?’ A certain intellectual integrity—and personal integrity—is certainly required. Unfortunately the level of much debate within ISKCON, particularly by e-mail, appears to reflect a culture of dichotomous thinking, of polemic and blame. I personally welcome forums such as that offered by the ICJ, and hope that Sesa’s study serves as an impetus for further contributions—articles that are not only academic but share insights born of a reflective and reflexive commitment, and which help ISKCON constructively address the issues of values, virtues, and morality. Furthermore, I do feel that the ‘Vedic’ model has much to contribute to the wider discussions on values; for example, the notion that different sections of society may have—should have—somewhat different values. If ISKCON embraces such debate, within and without, it can be benefited and can also contribute to the wider good. Sesa’s article is therefore to be applauded and certainly deserves a more thorough response than this brief review.