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Buckland Hall
Powys, Wales
20–21 January 1996
by Kenneth
Cracknell
A chill, damp weekend in Wales: a late nineteenth century coal-owner
baronial gothic mansion looming out of the mists: doors opening
to belated travellers and then warmth, laughter, a great wood fire
in the hall and the unmistakable aromas of India from the kitchen.
We had come on a Friday evening as guests of the International Society
for Krishna Consciousness for a weekend of intense interfaith dialogue,
mingled with prayer and worship, and the indispensable informal
conversations outside the formal programme.
But who, in this context, is 'we'? 'We' were a group of eleven
Christians responding to the invitation of Shaunaka Rishi Dasa,
Director of ISKCON Communications Europe, to join with twelve preachers
and teachers from ISKCON. Why had the Christians responded? I believe
four reasons predominated.
First, there was our basic commitment. Each one of us was deeply
committed to interfaith activity and would regard any invitation
from another faith community as a pressing priority.
Second, some of them had already experienced the value of talking
to members of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness
(or, put more technically, followers of Gaudiya Vaisnavism, as expounded
by their great master, Sri A. C. Bhaktivedanta Prabhupada. They
revere the teachings of the Bengali sixteenth-century saint Caitanya,
and focus their devotion upon Krsna, seeking to enter into a love
relationship with him). A Saturday conference at Bhaktivedanta Manor
last September had left them wanting an opportunity to follow up
contacts made there.
The third reason is perhaps the most significant. With our accumulated
experience (I worked it out to being over two hundred and fifty
years' worth between us), we were more than willing to go beyond
generalised discourse and vague abstractions, so often characteristic
of interfaith dialogue in its earliest stages. The opportunity to
focus the conversation by having just one dialogue partner who
represented a very specific form of Hindu belief and devotion was
extremely attractive.
Fourth, it had long ago dawned on all of us that scholars and
sages of ISKCON were highly trained and immensely acute exponents
of Gaudiya Vaisnavism, so much so that they could represent the
highest form of that philosophy extraordinarily well to their fellow
westerners. We were to have the opportunity to discuss with these
men and women ideas and concepts with which we were more or less
familiar through our reading and study. We were eager to learn from
those who embodied these teachings in their life and practice.
I cannot, of course, speak for the devotees' reasons for inviting
us. I am sure, like all of us, they wanted to speak of their faith
and commitment, hopeful for a better understanding of why ISKCON
was their chosen path for their walk with God. In this they follow
the precept of their spiritual master Srila Prabhupada who wrote:
& we have to work very hard and with intelligence and sincerity for
this movement. It is a great movement undoubtedly but it takes a
little time to convince the higher section of society. Still, that
is one aspect of our business because unless the higher section of
society understands this movement, it will make progress slowly. If
the higher sections say yes, it is a nice movement it will progress
very quickly. (Letter, 21 August 1971)
But increasingly they go further than this because, I surmise,
of their new-found sense of vocation to enable westerners to understand
Indian philosophy. As they are for the most part westerners themselves,
they have a unique opportunity in this regard and are very aware
of their responsibility to ensure true understanding of Vaisnavism.
How did we proceed? Since the devotees are incredibly early risers
(and therefore early retirers) nothing happened on the Friday evening.
This was refreshing, and this particular veteran of many weekend
conferences offers it as a model. Because we were all up in good
time, and fortified by our vegetarian breakfast, by 9.00 a.m. we
were ready to plunge straight into the two formal keynote papers
on the 'nature of the self'.
From the Vaisnava side Ravindra Svarupa Dasa offered a paper setting
out the nature of the soul as 'a separated, minute fragment of God,
the Supersoul'. Because souls are spiritual they belong in the spiritual
kingdom, where almost all souls dwell ('the eternally liberated
souls') A tiny minority of souls ('fallen or conditioned souls')
inhabit this material world. If they turn away from God and divine
service they fall into the inhospitable realm of external material
energy. Consciousness discloses the presence of spirit within the
material world. The 'I' of the human person is spirit (aham brahmasmi,
I am soul), with the corollary 'I am not matter'. Human beings reach
their full potential when they realise I am not my body. The renovation
of real life is bhakti-yoga, re-connecting the soul with
the Supersoul by devotional service whose keynote is love (prema).
Souls in this state are fully joyful. In Ravindra Svarupa's eloquent
words:
They neither hanker nor lament. Their happiness doesn't depend upon
the course of circumstance. They see all living beings as the same.
They see the agony and hopelessness of the world is exorcised when
the illusion that has rendered us oblivious to our own identity is
dispelled, and they engage themselves in the highest welfare work
of rousing sleeping souls from their nightmare. For themselves, they
take no mind of what becomes of the future of their lives. Because
they have no material desires, there is no further birth for them
in this world. Instead they attain their original spiritual forms
in the kingdom of God, spiritual bodies suitable for pastimes of love
with the Lord.
So lucid a statement not only offered much for the Christian participants
to try to come to grips with, but reflected a single internal coherent
position. How different was the task undertaken by Keith Ward. For
there is no one single Christian understanding of the soul. In masterful
fashion Rev. Prof. Ward located the fullest exposition of the soul
/ body relationship in Aquinas' adoption of Aristotelian philosophy,
and went on to show how the collapse of the synthesis achieved by
Aquinas has left Christian theologians in not a little confusion,
some indeed doubting the existence of the soul as a separate and
distinguishable entity within the human personality. Prof. Ward
showed how some recent Protestant theology had, in fact, given upon
the ideas of immortality and the soul, using eternal life as a metaphor
for the presence of God in this present life.
With these two presentations the stage was set. After a mid-morning
break the Conference sat down to plan its strategy for dealing with
this massive and complex subject. In the event it was decided that
we should work in three groups throughout the remainder of the time,
each tackling the same broad topic for one hour, and then coming
back to the plenary to report on progress and to decide what the
next issue to be taken up should be.
Happily there was no pressure to reach agreed conclusions. We
decided only that there should be this present record, indicating
some of the content which we tackled and, we hope, some of the material
which might engage us in our next dialogue.
But first, here are some of the comments about the process of
the dialogue itself, and the worthwhileness of being engaged in
it. I record them now to give some sense of the immense amicability
and freedom of the conversations that took place.
Vaisnavas have written to me saying that they were moved by the
'openness and humility of all the members of the Christian churches
present' and indeed have expressed amazement at the 'lack of false
ego' in these participants.
They expressed gratitude for the 'real willingness to understand'
the Vaisnava philosophy. Many say that they discovered a real increase
of 'respect, appreciation and esteem' for Christians and Christianity,
calling our time together 'essential and extremely productive work'.
Interestingly for more than a few, our being together was a moment
of encountering things they thought they had left behind when they
came to Krishna consciousness. One correspondent commented on the
fact that he had faced, discovered and appreciated the message of
Jesus. 'Maybe,' he writes, 'this cannot strike you in the same way
as me, but it is actually amazing to realise that after living thirty
years in a Christian society, you have to wait to receive a "divine
gift" and then get to know the religion of your country in
a broad and comprehensive perspective.'
Many others have spoken appreciatively of new insights and fresh
understanding of elements within their Catholic or Protestant upbringings
that hitherto had been meaningless or even untrue to them. For some,
the reality of Christian faith and devotion came alive as they joined
with us in the Catholic morning office and a Protestant / ecumenical
act of prayer and meditation. Perhaps it was this last aspect
that led a senior Vaisnava to say that he had left the weekend
with a 'far stronger sense of a shared path of devotion to a personal
God of grace uniting both Christian and Vaisnava. We have an important
journey to travel together and we are only at the beginning.'
For their part the Christian participants found the experience,
in the words of one of their number 'intellectually demanding, well-organised,
enjoyable and instructive'. Many commented afterwards on the sense
of fun that pervaded the intense seriousness of the discussions,
for there were outbreaks of great hilarity, not least when one Vaisnava
commented (about reincarnation), 'It does make the Odyssey a lot
less problematic'. After a moment of blank incomprehension, the
light dawned: our friend had said 'theodicy'. Ah yes, we thought,
after the laughter ceased, but was there not sense in which we were
taking about 'the odyssey' of the soul throughout our sharing together?
Christians, too, appreciated the moments when we could share in
reflection and prayerfulness with the devotees. We counted it a
profound privilege when at the very last moment, and in the closing
minutes of the conference, our friends spontaneously decided that
they would offer their kirtana to Krsna in our presence.
Such loving, joyful worship made one Methodist participant wish
that she too should have risen from her seat and joined in the singing
and the dancing before the Lord.
And now back to the content of the discussions. Ravindra Svarupa
Dasa and Keith Ward had performed their task magnificently and the
room buzzed with innumerable questions. Extraordinarily courteous
negotiations then took place as to which of these issues were the
ones most needing attention: the nature of the soul in relation
to modern conceptions of personality, the nature of eternity, the
meaning of resurrection, the concept of the Parousia, the doctrine
of karma, the Vaisnava understanding of the 'subtle body',
the relation of the Vaisnava 'liberated spirits' to the Christian
understanding of purgatory and paradise; the list is almost inexhaustible.
In any case, an order of procedure was decided upon and off we went.
Reportage fails at this point, for now the basic work was done in
our three groups, where it was possible for everyone's questions
to be addressed, even if not fully answered.
Yet some flavour of the discussions can be communicated. First,
here is a list of questions remaining in the mind of a devotee,
which gives a true sense of the scope of the discussion:
How central to Vaisnava philosophy is reincarnation? Can reincarnation
never be on the Christian agenda and can Vaisnavas do without it on
their agenda?
What do we mean by eternity? Will all souls be liberated, or is it
possible that some souls never gain liberation? What happens at the
resurrection? What is the relationship between, and nature of, the
body, the soul and the subtle body? What is the distinction between
the subtle body and the 'I' we identify with? What is it that remains
and experiences things after the liberation?
What is the kingdom of God? Is there an end of time or is time cyclical?
Does the 'new heaven / new earth' encompass a corporate liberation
or is it purely individual?
How does the concept of reincarnation and spiritual equality fit in
with our observation of the caste system? If we consider that the
soul is not separate from the body, do we not lose out on a socio-political
dimension in our dealings with others? Does that view not make us
anthropocentric? Does it not impact upon ecological implications of
stewardship?
How do Vaisnavas speak of death to others? What sort of bedside language
would we use in comforting a dying person? What is our pastoral approach
to death? And is that different if we were counselling a child or
old person?
Second, some thoughts from a Roman Catholic participant. Commenting
that the Hindus knew their Sanskrit texts well and quoted from them
freely, he notes that it was a puzzle to them that Christians should
depend upon scriptures which were written in different languages,
and indeed in different cultural and linguistic genres. It was hard,
he thought, for them to understand why Christians should have developed
a discourse about the soul which originated in Aristotle and which
was developed by St. Thomas Aquinas. He responds to the basic question
What is wrong with the Bible? by reflecting that Christians
undertake their theology, not by explicating a text within the framework
of a defined cosmology but in terms of a narrative. His reflection
on the dialogue is that like so many interfaith encounters, it is
not possible for Christians to match text against text, concept
against concept.
Using the image of the Odyssey, he suggests that for Hindus the
narrative is a journey which leads back eventually to 'the original
state of relationship which is constantly called to mind in the
bliss of devotion'. Odysseus is therefore one model, for in all
his endless journeying he is always on the way home. Abrahamic faith,
on the other hand, is on a different journey, always looking for
another city. Perhaps, suggests this correspondent, Christianity
has ways of combining both Odysseus and Abraham.
Another comment in this area came from a Vaisnava, who wrote that
he was impressed by the way in which Christian teaching and practice
has emphasised discovering divine purpose in this world, not simply
postponing it to the next. Some Vaisnavas, he thought, could 'fail
to act purposefully in their lives and their society in the name
of detachment from the physical.'
The same correspondent took up some of the pastoral issues that
were raised in the conference. He writes:
I agree that the philosophy of karma can be applied heartlessly when
responding to the suffering of others in this world. If a child is
abused or a people persecuted, it is not enough simply to say that
it was their karma. Vaisnavas should respond to others with genuine
sympathy and be ready to help them in body and soul.
Last, there were some critical reflections from one of the two
Swamis present. He noted on the Christian side a lack of willingness
to explore the issues through the realms of reason and logic (is
this not how our previous writer's assessment that Christians undertake
their theology through narrative, is bound to be perceived?). While
noting that reason and logic are not the ultimate parameters, the
Swami suggests that they are very useful in understanding things
as they are, and highlights what he sees as the insufficiently focused
nature of the discussions during the weekend. 'I would,' he writes,
'like to have seen an in-depth study of one point and some resolution
of that.' He also comments that certain major points went unchallenged
in the discussion. One significant one was Keith Ward's acceptance
of Darwinian evolution as being harmonious with his Christian beliefs.
In these comments was seen the disparity between Christian faith
and Vaisnava philosophy, for here conversation was not just Christians
with Vaisnavas but Vaisnavas with evolutionists. Thus he raises
one important issue for the Vaisnavas. He comments, 'Part of my
thinking process was questioning whether what I was hearing was
Christianity ... what Jesus taught and what is written or originally
written in the Bible.'
Those last comments lead to some closing reflections from this
rapporteur:
1. Throughout all the conversations nothing was more clear than that
a major Indian philosophic tradition, complete with its internal logical
coherence, was encountering a form of religious faith which has no
such basis. From its beginning, Christian faith has been in search
of a philosophical foundation, and over the centuries has tried many,
such as Platonism, neo-Platonism, Aristotelianism, Existentialism,
Personalism, Idealism and (more recently and very much the case in
America) Whiteheadian Process thought. The devotees frequently expressed
their puzzlement about this and asked for what is impossible in the
nature of the case, a clear exposition of Christianity based either
upon Jesus' own teaching or the Bible. Would it be helpful to them
if they were to plan future dialogues with this in mind? It could
be very useful to ask for a conversation with Christians belonging
to particular philosophical traditions, for example with those in
the tradition of Thomas Aquinas or with Process theologians.
2. Christians have not perhaps recognised yet the deeply conservative
nature of Gaudiya Vaisnavism, as an exposition of Vedic tradition.
Hence some mutual incomprehension and the surprise expressed in several
letters afterwards that some Christians seem so readily and easily
to have accepted evolution. Future dialogues need a certain preparation
on the part of Christians if they are to understand this feature of
ISKCON (an ISKCON publication: The Hidden History of the Human
Race, by Michael A. Cremo and Richard L. Thompson, Badger CA:
Govardhan Hill, 1994, could be required reading).
3. As I have noted, sharing in each other's devotional life at times
of worship, prayer and meditation, was a vitally important part of
this conference, and raised many questions for each participant. Some
of these were properly and fruitfully answered in private conversations
and in the life of the groups, and many members of the conference
have expressed great appreciation for the insights freely imparted
by dialogue partners. Future dialogue conferences might profitably
focus upon issues of devotional life. But here again it would be profitable
to recognise distinctive traditions within Christianity. Participants
from the Christian side who belonged to what might be called loosely
the Pietist-Methodist-Charismatic tradition resonated with many elements
of the bhakti marga, described by Ravindra Svarupa as 'pastimes
of love with the Lord'. They appreciated particularly the kirtana
as a demonstration of this. They wished they had been numerous enough
in the conference to sing full-throatedly the praises of Jesus in
the hymnody of John and Charles Wesley, and perhaps of later revivalist
and charismatic songwriters, and dancing before the Lord is not unknown
in this tradition. At the same time the 'monastic-contemplative' side
of Gaudiya Vaisnavism obviously resonated with the more structured
devotional patterns represented by the Divine Office and the ecumenical
acts of meditation. So again, I suggest that future conferences should
take note of these different possibilities in order that a greater
coherence within the discussion might be achieved.
Finally, let me stress once again the importance of this conference.
There have been other kinds of gatherings sponsored by ISKCON ―
meetings of scholars of religion (see for example a fine volume
of essays edited by David G. Bromley and Larry D. Shinn, Krishna
Consciousness in the West: Bucknell University Press, 1989),
but to my knowledge our coming together in Wales was the first
where there was appropriate interfaith dialogue at this theological
level, in which leading ISKCON scholars and Christian theologians
were engaged in mutual challenge and response.
From our side I can only say that many other Christian scholars
and thinkers need to experience the enormous benefits such dialogue
brings. To them I can only say, 'If you are ever invited by our
ISKCON friends, do not hesitate to respond ― previous knowledge
of Gaudiya Vaisnavism is not required, only openness and commitment.'
To my Krishna Consciousness friends, I say simply, 'Thank you'.
Participants from the Christian side: Michael Barnes (Cambridge),
Marcus Braybrooke (Oxford), Kenneth Cracknell (Cambridge and Texas),
Gavin D'Costa (Bristol), Elizabeth Harris (Oxford), Penelope Johnstone
(Oxford), Christopher Lamb (London), Peggy Morgan (Oxford), Brian
Pearce (London), Kathleen Richardson (London), Keith Ward (Oxford).
Participants from the Vaisnavaite side: Akhandadhi Dasa
(Bhaktivedanta Manor and Bengal), Anuradha Devi Dasi (Bhaktivedanta
Manor), Kripamoya Dasa (London), Premanarva Dasa (Sweden), Ranchor
Prime (London), Ravindra Svarupa Dasa (USA), Sacinandana Swami (Germany),
Sarvamangala Devi Dasi (London), Shaunaka Rishi Dasa (Belfast),
Sita Devi Dasi (London), Sivarama Swami (Bhaktivedanta Manor and
Hungary), Virabhadra Dasa (Italy).
_______________________________________________
The Nature of the Self: A Christian Understanding
by Keith Ward
The background to Christian thought about the self
Christian thought about the self builds on the foundations laid
by Biblical Judaism. Genesis 2,7, part of the second creation account
in the Book of Genesis, states that 'the Lord God formed man of
dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath
of life; and man became a living being.' Humans are formed of dust,
of material energy, and they will return to dust. They are given
life by the breath of God, which can be given and can be taken away
by God. The Hebrew word for breath is 'Neshemah', but in Genesis
6,17 the same thought, 'breath of life', is expressed by the word
'Ruach', which can be translated as 'air' or 'spirit'. So humans
are pieces of matter formed and given life by the spirit of God,
or by spirit which emanates from God, as breath emanates from a
living being.
Another important element in the Biblical creation stories is
given in the first creation account, which states that 'God said,
Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.' (Genesis 1,26)
Humans image God, like reflections in a mirror or sparks from a
fire. They are given 'dominion' over the natural world. Just as
God creates and cares for all creatures, so humans are to share
in this Lordship, by caring for the natural world and ordering it
to the glory and service of God.
The Genesis creation stories express their belief that the material
universe is created for the sake of the forms of goodness it makes
possible. Humans do not exist eternally, but originate as parts
of the material universe. They have a special role in the universe,
which is to shape it to express the glory of God. They also share
in the Spirit of God, and so are able to relate in friendship and
love to God. They can be seen as mediators between the material
and spiritual realms, ordering matter to become a manifestation
of spirit, and offering the material realm, through their consciousness
and actions, as a sacrifice of praise to God.
Early Hebrew thought does not make a great distinction between
humans and other animals. Presumably every living thing, not just
humanity, is filled with the 'breath of life'. If humans are uniquely
in the image of God, this uniqueness lies in their role as stewards
of the created world and as the 'priests of creation', who offer
it in worship to the Creator. It does not lie in any ontological
uniqueness (in being a soul-substance, for example), except insofar
as responsible stewardship and worship of God both require reflective
thought and fully intentional action. One might fairly say that,
on the Biblical view, humans are complex structures of matter which
have become capable of self-consciousness, reflection and purposively
self-directed action. They lie at one end, on earth, of a continuum
of living things, with a responsibility for the well-being of the
material order of which they are part.
It is not surprising, then, that there is little sign of a belief
in the immortality of the soul in the thought of the Hebrew Bible.
But there are factors pulling in another direction. The Creator
is pure Spirit, with consciousness and will. Thus materialism, the
theory that there cannot exist consciousness without a material
brain, must be false. According to the prophets, God has a desire
for relationship with created personal beings. This cannot be a
relationship between material beings, so again the possibility,
and indeed the fact, of an immaterial, spiritual, personal relationship,
is asserted by the Bible. The Creator is a Lord of justice and of
mercy, taking vengeance on evil and bringing good to those who love
Him. But it became increasingly obvious that those who love God
do not always flourish.
So the idea developed of a further life in which the personal
consciousness that had developed on earth could experience a fullness
of personal relationship with God, and in which justice could in
some way be done. At first a shadowy afterlife in Sheol, a grey
half-life, was postulated. Later, possibly under Zoroastrian influence,
the idea of resurrection became widely held. The dead would rise
to their bodies to Judgement, and according to the lives they had
led, enter into an eternal love of God, or an eternal exclusion
from the Divine presence. At the time of Jesus, this belief was
widespread, but by no means universal among Jews, and even today
belief in a life to come is not binding on Jews. That is the background
against which Christian belief developed.
The traditional Christian understanding of the self
Jesus taught the resurrection of the dead, and appeared after his
own bodily death to the apostles. So Christians are committed to
belief in resurrection. As Christianity moved into the disintegrating
Roman Empire, it adopted the philosophy of the Greeks to express
religious beliefs. After a thousand years of a rather uneasy alliance
with Platonism, it was the philosophy of Aristotle which got taken
into Western Christian thought by the thirteenth century theologian
Thomas Aquinas. His view of the soul was based on Aristotle's 'De
Anima', and has become what may be called the traditional Western
Christian view.
In Aristotle's view, Forms are universals or defining natures
which are given actualisation and individuated by matter. The soul
is the Form of the body, a particular instantiation of a defining
nature. However, Aristotle seems to think of a soul, not merely
as an abstract definition, but as an actual power which enables
a body to act in a certain way. Nutritive souls cause plants to
grow and multiply. Animal souls cause animals to perceive and move.
Rational souls cause humans to think and intend. Humans are distinctive
in having rational souls, which are those properties of bodies which
enable them to think and intend.
In the case of plants and animals, such souls are material properties,
and are not separable from the bodies which manifest their activity.
This may be true of humans as well, but Aristotle canvasses the
possibility of the organ of thought being immaterial, since understanding
is not a material activity, and thus possibly has some sort of existence
without the body. Aquinas amplifies this view, and asserts that
the rational soul is a spiritual principle of thinking and intending
which can exist without a body, but whose proper function is to
animate a particular material body, to which it is intrinsically
fitted.
Thinking, after all, is closely dependent on a sense-activity
to provide objects of thought. Intending is dependent on a body
which can act in the world. So the soul is that which gives a particular
complex material body the capacity for reflection and rational agency.
It is the subject of the experiences and actions of a particular
body. This view can be developed in two ways. One gives a quasi-materialist
interpretation (which was probably Aristotle's own), so that talking
about the soul is simply a way of talking about the properties of
a material body which enable it to think. To say that humans are
rational souls is just to say that they are animals which can think.
The thinking cannot exist without the body, the matter, which makes
the activity possible. But one can also give a quasi-dualist interpretation
(which was certainly Aquinas'), so that the thinking subject can
exist substantially. If it does, however, it exists 'unnaturally'
or 'improperly', since each soul or substantial intellective form
is meant to be the active principle of a material body, and indeed
of a particular material body.
Aquinas was able to develop a view of the soul, the subject of
thinking and willing, as able to exist after death in a disembodied
state, by the grace of God. In that state, development or purification
of the soul is possible (in Purgatory), preparing it for eventual
resurrection. But it will not form a complete person until the resurrection
of the body, when it will once again have its proper organ of perception
and action in a public, communal world. The resurrection was to
be of this earthly physical body, with all its physical attributes,
though in a perfected form. At the Last Judgement, when earthly
history has come to an end, all souls will receive their own bodies,
and will enter into their eternal destiny, for final union with
or exclusion from the presence of God.
Disagreements on this subject between Catholic and some Protestant
theologians are fairly minor. They mainly arise from the fact that
some Protestants insist that the soul never exists in a disembodied
state, and so 'sleeps' between death and the General Resurrection.
This makes any thought of development of the person after death,
or of possible repentance after earthly death, virtually impossible
to conceive. The traditional Catholic view, however, also denies
the possibility of repentance after death, and the doctrine of Purgatory,
as officially formulated, seem more like a time of punishment than
of positive development. So many theologians, probably most, feel
that the traditional views need to be restated in some way.
A contemporary interpretation using a more Biblical basis
Strangely, the main New Testament passage dealing with resurrection,
1 Corinthians 15, 35–50, did not play a large part in developing
the classical Christian tradition. There, Paul makes it clear that
the physical body (soma psychikon; literally, the mind-body)
dies, and what is resurrected is a spiritual body (soma pneumatikon),
as different from the physical as wheat is from the seed from which
it springs. He explains that it is impossible to envisage what this
body will be like. But it will be incorruptible and glorious, and
thus not subject to the laws of space-time. It will be fully part
of the 'body of Christ', and thus be a part of God, wholly devoted
to the Divine will and expressive of the Divine action. It will
not be in this material realm, but in a 'new creation', which has
no need of any sun or light and heat. It will live with other resurrected
bodies in a community of creative understanding and love.
One might think of the 'mind-body' as the body which is immersed
in this physical world, its attention focused on physical realities
and its actions directed to the mastery of nature and the gratification
of feelings. The 'spirit-body' will be a body constituted by its
intimate relation with God. Its attention is focused solely on the
Supreme Lord and its actions will shape nature to endless forms
of beauty and happiness, under the direction of the Supreme Lord.
It is useless to ask about its form or shape. Nevertheless, it will
be perfectly suited to enable the soul to actualise those sorts
of capacity which had a largely frustrated expression in the material
world.
In one passage, Paul writes that as the physical body decays,
the spirit body begins to take shape, even during this mortal life
(2 Corinthians 4, 16–5,5). 'Eternal life', for Christians,
is not just something which begins after death. It is the quality
of life seen in relation to the eternal God. So the spirit-body
exists even during life. Paul typically speaks of humans as made
up of body, soul and spirit (1 Thessalonians 5,23). In this context,
one can interpret the soul as the mind oriented solely towards the
material world (the 'false ego'), and the spirit as the personal
subject interpenetrated and empowered by the Spirit of God (the
true self). For those who are 'in Christ', the Kingdom in a sense
exists on earth. Yet it does not exist fully, since it still confronts
and is not free from the evil and conflict which mark all human
affairs. As long as freedom, conflict and suffering exist, the Kingdom
cannot exist in its fullness. This material world, even if it once
could, cannot now fully actualise the Kingdom of God.
On this view, the material world comes to have the function of
generating souls, subjects of thinking and willing. In a 'fallen'
material realm of conflict and suffering, they have responsibility
for fighting evil and striving for justice and the flourishing of
the natural order, for the coming of the Kingdom of God. However,
the Kingdom can only be fully established in the spiritual realm,
in which evil is eradicated and all created life shares in the Divine
life. In that Kingdom, the Bible supposes, the natural order will
be beautiful and pleasing, animals will take their proper place
in the community of sentient beings without conflict, persons will
live in creative communion, and God will be present in and through
all things.
After death, there may be various sorts of 'embodiment' for the
soul, various modes of interaction with an environment in which
development in understanding can take place, or in which, perhaps,
evil souls can repent and turn back to God (Cf. I Hebrew 3, 18–20).
This would correspond with the 'Sheol' of the Hebrew Bible, or the
'Paradise' of which Jesus spoke on the cross (Luke 23, 43), seen
now as a place of purification and preparation for the final Kingdom,
when all humanity would be united in love for a present and unhidden
God. There is no need to speak of wholly disembodied souls. One
can rather see the possibility of different sorts of embodiment
for the same subjects of action and enjoyment, culminating in the
pure spiritual Kingdom of God.
Thus the Christian view of the self is that it emerges from the
material order, but it is destined for a spiritual order. It is
born in a 'body of death', oriented to the desires of the senses
and the pride of the mind, doomed to frustration and the ultimate
failure of its earthly hopes. But it is destined to receive a 'resurrection'
of body of spirit, and for Christians that is the teaching Christ
comes to inaugurate. The apostles saw Jesus after the death of his
material body in his spirit-body. They believed that they received
the Spirit in a new and powerfully transforming way through loving
devotion to him. The Divine Spirit began to shape their spirit-bodies,
so that they would become 'like Christ', and would eventually be
wholly united to God through and in Him. At the end of historical
time, they believed, Christ would return and transform the whole
material realm into its true spiritual form, wherein all humans,
living and dead, could achieve their true destiny.
The traditional view of the soul uses Aristotle's philosophy in
an imaginative way to show how the soul is both essentially embodied
and yet not irrevocably tied to a specific material body. The traditional
view of resurrection arguably remains too materialistic, however,
and a return to the Pauline teaching of a spiritual body points
the way to an interpretation, at once newer and yet more Biblical,
of how the spiritual realm can be seen as the reality of which this
material realm is a shadow and corruption. Existence in that spiritual
Kingdom, ruled by a clearly known and worshipped God, beginning
even now in this material life, is the proper object of Christian
hope.
_______________________________________________
The Nature of the Self: A Gaudiya Vaisnava
Understanding
By Ravindra Svarupa dasa
The sparks of God
The soul, or self (atma), is described as a separated, minute
fragment of God, the Supersoul (paramatma). God is like a
fire; the individual souls, sparks of the fire. As the analogy suggests,
the self and the Superself are simultaneously one with and different
from each other. They are the same in quality, for both the soul
and the Supersoul are brahman, spirit. Yet they differ in
quantity, since the Superself (param brahman ― supreme
brahman ― in Bhagavad-gita 10.12) is infinitely
great while the individual selves are infinitesimally small.
In the Upanisads some texts assert the identity between
the individual soul and the Supreme Soul, while others speak of
the difference between them. The way the Vaisnava Vedanta resolves
this apparent contradiction recognises identity and difference as
equally real.
Such a reconciliation is conveyed in the Katha Upanisad
(2.2.13) in the words nityo nityanam cetannas cetananam eko bahunam
yo vidadhati kaman. ('There is one eternal being out of many
eternals, one conscious being out of many conscious beings. It is
the one who provides for the needs of the many.') This text states,
in effect, that there is a class division in transcendence. It says
that there are two categorically different types of eternal, conscious-hence,
spiritual-beings. One category is singular in number (nityo),
a set with only one member. This, then, is the category of God,
who is one without a second. The other class is plural (nityanam),
containing innumerable members. This is the category of the souls.
The members of both classes are brahman, spirit. Yet one
of them is unique, peerless, in a class by Himself, for He is the
singular independent self-sustaining sustainer of all others. Each
of the others possesses a multitude of peers, and all of them alike
are intrinsically dependent upon the one. The one is the absolute,
the many are relative.
The energies of the Absolute
Fundamental to the Vaisnava Vedanta is the doctrine that the Absolute
Truth possesses energies. (The impersonalistic Advaita Vedanta,
in contrast, denies the reality of the energies.) The energies are
divided into different categories; one of them is comprised of the
innumerable individual souls.
The 'Absolute Truth' denotes that from which everything emanates,
by which it is sustained, and to which it finally returns. The products
of the Absolute are thought of as its sakti, its energy or
potency. Heat and light, for example, are considered the energies
of fire. Just as the sun projects itself everywhere by its radiation
yet remains apart, so the Absolute expands its own energies to produce
(and, in a fashion, to become) the world while remaining separate
from it. Unlike the sun, the Absolute can emanate unlimited energy
and remain undiminished. (The arithmetic of the Absolute: One minus
one equals one.) In short, while nothing is different from God,
God is different from everything.
The host of souls makes up the category of divine energy called
the tatastha-sakti. Tata means 'bank', as of a river
or lake. Tatastha means 'situated on the bank'. The souls
are characterised as marginal or borderline energy because they
are, as it were, between two worlds. They can dwell within either
of the two major energies, the internal (antaranga-sakti)
and the external (bahiranga-sakti). The internal potency
is also known as the spiritual energy (cit-sakti), and the
external potency is also called the material energy (maya-sakti).
The internal potency expands as the transcendental realm, the eternal
kingdom of God. The external potency expands as the material world,
which is sometimes manifest and sometimes unmanifest.
Because souls are spiritual, their original home is the spiritual
kingdom. Almost all souls dwell there. These are called eternally
liberated souls. Only a tiny minority of souls inhabit this material
world. These are called fallen, or conditioned, souls.
Souls are small samples of God. Hence they possess a minute quantity
of that freedom which God possesses in full. Although they are eternal,
full of knowledge and bliss, and although their dharma, or essential
nature, is to serve God, they may still, in the exercise of that
freedom, wilfully turn away from divine service. Thereupon these
souls fall into the inhospitable realm of the external, material
energy.
Because souls are constitutionally servants, even the rebellious
souls remain under God's control, but that control is now exercised
indirectly and unfavourably through the agency of material nature.
Souls do not have the freedom not to be controlled by God, but they
do choose freely how they wish to be controlled. Those who will
not voluntarily be controlled by the Lord are controlled involuntarily
by material nature. For this reason, spiritual souls become incarcerated
within matter. Under the superintendence of the Lord, there is a
confluence of the marginal and the external energies, and the creation
arises.
Spirits in the material world
The presence of spirit within the material world is disclosed immediately
to us by consciousness. Consciousness is the symptom of the soul.
It is the current or the energy of the soul. Consciousness does
not arise as a by-product of the material energy. A material object
like a table or chair is entirely an object and in no way a subject.
It does not undergo experiences. It has no significance for itself.
An embodied soul, a living being, on the other hand, is a subject;
it has significance for itself as well as for others; it undergoes
experiences. The claim that the soul is an unknowable 'metaphysical
entity' beyond all possible experience is simply false. Not only
do we experience the soul; the soul is the very condition for our
having any experiences at all.
Thus, souls are fundamental, irreducible entities in the world.
Each living, conscious being is of a different category from the
material energy which embodies and surrounds it. The Upanisads
declare: aham brahmasmi, I am not this body. Human beings
achieve their full potential when they realise this.
The material elements, of which living bodies are made, are traditionally
given as eight: earth, water, fire, ether, mind, intelligence and
false ego. They are arranged in sequence from the grossest to the
subtlest, that is, from the most apparent to our senses to the least.
The first five are the gross elements (maha-bhuta-s); the
last three, the subtle elements (suksma-bhuta-s). The gross
elements become more intelligible to us when translated as: solids,
liquids, gases, radiant energy and space. The subtle elements, taken
together, make up what we in the West generally call the 'mind'.
The subtle element manas, or mind, is the locus of habit,
of normal thinking, feeling and willing according to one's established
mind-set. Buddhi, or intelligence, is the higher faculty
of discrimination and judgement; it determines mind-sets and comes
to the fore when we undergo conversions or paradigm shifts. Ahamkara,
or the sense of self, is the faculty by which the embodied soul
assumes a false or illusory identity in the material world.
Conditioned souls attain human form after transmigrating upward
through the scale of beings; thereupon they become capable of self-realisation
and liberation. Liberation means giving up false identification
of the self with the gross and subtle material coils and regaining
one's original spiritual form as a servant of God.
Even in the conditioned state, the soul always remains a spiritual
being. Like a dreamer who projects his identity onto an illusory,
dream-self, the conditioned soul acquires a false self of matter.
Although the self is by nature eternal, full of knowledge and full
of bliss, this nature becomes covered by illusion. Identifying with
the material body, the soul is plunged into the nightmare of history,
trapped in the whirlpool of repeated birth and death (mrtyu-samsara).
This false identification by the embodied souls with their psychophysical
coverings is the cause of all their suffering.
The quest by conditioned souls for happiness in this world inevitably
fails. The eternal souls naturally seek eternal happiness, yet they
seek it where all happiness is temporary. The fulfilment of the
most common and basic desire, that of self-preservation, has not
once met with success. Indeed, the deluded souls do not know that
matters are just the opposite of the way they seem. Gratification
of the senses is in fact the generator of suffering, not happiness.
This is because each act of sense gratification intensifies the
soul's false identification with the body. Consequently, when the
body undergoes disease, senescence and death, the materially absorbed
living beings experience all these as happening to themselves. Death
is an illusion they have imposed upon themselves owing to their
desire to enjoy in this world. So enjoying, their agony continues
unabated. A mind brimming with unfulfilled yearnings propels them,
at the time of death, into new material bodies, to begin another
round.
Recovering the authentic self
Fallen souls have been granted a false material identity because
they reject their authentic spiritual identity. The traces of that
rejection are found everywhere. We see that all organisms, from
microbes on up, are driven by the mechanism of desire and hate,
by 'approach' and 'avoidance'. This duality is the reverberation
of the original sinful will that propelled them into this world.
The original sinful desire is: 'Why can't I be God?' And the original
sinful hate, 'Why should Krsna be God?'
When souls evince the desire to become the Lord, the Lord responds
by granting them the illusion of independent lordship. They enter
the material kingdom, to be provided with a sequence of false identities
― costumes fabricated out of the material energy ― along
with an inventory of objects which they think they can dominate
and enjoy. Even so, the Lord accompanies them in their wanderings,
dwelling in their hearts as He works to bring about their eventual
rectification and return from exile. When the soul in the depth
of his being, again turns to God, the Lord makes all arrangements
for his inauthentic, illusory life to end.
The renovation of real life is called bhakti-yoga ―
reconnecting the souls with the Supersoul (yoga) by loving
devotional service (bhakti). Bhakti rests upon the
principle that desire and activity are not in themselves bad. The
soul itself is the source of desire and activity. The original,
pure desire of the soul is to satisfy the senses of the Lord. This
is called prema, or love. When souls contact matter, their
love becomes transformed into lust (kama), which is the desire
to satisfy one's own senses. The practice of bhakti-yoga
reconverts lust into love. Desire is not suppressed or repressed;
it is purified. One may call this 'sublimation', but it should be
understood that when desire is thus sublimated it rests in its natural
and aboriginal state.
The world, the body with its senses and the sense objects are
not to be enjoyed, but neither are they to be renounced. The world
is God's energy, and it should not be decried as false or evil.
Rather, the elements of this world are to be engaged in divine service.
When that is done, the veil of illusion is lifted, and everything
and everyone are seen in their true identity: in relationship to
God. The way to see divinity everywhere and in everything is to
utilise everything in the Lord's service. God is the first of fact,
but our materially contaminated senses cannot perceive Him. When,
however, the senses become purified by being engaged in the Lord's
service, they regain their capacity to perceive God directly.
Such purified souls are fully joyful. They neither hanker nor
lament. Their happiness does not depend upon the course of circumstance.
They see all living beings as the same. They see that all the agony
and hopelessness of the world is exorcised when the illusion that
has rendered us oblivious to our own identity is dispelled, and
they engage themselves in the highest welfare work of rousing sleeping
souls from their nightmare. For themselves, they take no mind of
what becomes of the future of their lives.
Because they have no material desires, there is no further birth
for them in this world. Instead, they attain their original spiritual
forms in the kingdom of God, spiritual bodies suitable for pastimes
of love with the Lord.
The Absolute Truth has both an impersonal and a personal feature,
but the personal feature is the last word of Godhead. To say the
Absolute is a person is to say that it has senses (indriya-s).
Traditionally, the senses are ten: those through which the world
acts upon us (instruments of hearing, touching, seeing, tasting
and smelling), and those through which we act upon the world (instruments
of manipulation, locomotion, sound production, reproduction and
evacuation). The mind is often considered the eleventh sense. A
body, accordingly, may be thought of as an array of senses organised
around a centre of consciousness. Thus, to say that the Absolute
is a person is to say that the Absolute has body or form.
The body of God is not material. It is a spiritual or transcendental
form ― sat-cit-ananda-vigraha, an eternal form of bliss
and knowledge. Though differentiated by limbs or parts, a spiritual
body is nevertheless completely unified and identical with its own
possessor. Therefore, in God, there is no difference between body
and soul, mind and body, soul and mind. Every limb or part of that
body can perform all functions of every other limb.
Because the Absolute is a person, the souls, the offspring of
God, are also persons, and they fully manifest their authentic identity
only in relationship with the Supreme Person. When conditioned souls
act under the impetus of sense gratification, their bodies evolve
materially. But when the souls act in their constitutional position,
their love toward God displays itself as the soul's proper spiritual
bodies. Thus, the selves achieve their full personal identity and
self-expression as lovers of God.
All relationships in this world are dim and perverted reflections
of their real prototypes in the kingdom of God. The taste or flavour
of a relationship is called rasa (literally, 'juice'). It
is said that there are five primary rasas a soul can have
toward the Lord. In order of increasing intimacy, they are passive,
adoration, servitorship, fraternal, paternal and conjugal.
God and His devotees engage in eternal pastimes of loving exchanges
in spiritual forms that are sheer embodiments of rasa. Such
bodies are the unmediated concrete expressions of spiritual ecstasies.
These unceasing, uninterrupted, ever-increasing variegated ecstasies
are non-different from the souls and from the spiritual bodies that
bear them. The forms and activities of the Lord and His devotees
all possess transcendental specificity and variegatedness. The forms
of love are not abstractions and their relations are not allegories.
In the kingdom of God life is infinitely more full, vivid, and real
than anything of the thin shadows that flicker here, on and off.
Here, we are not what we are. There, we are truly ourselves again
because we are truly God's.
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