|
Listen to the audio of this discourse
Download the MP3 audio
In the process of the creation of the universe, three powerful forces emanate
from God, and these forces constitute the stuff of the whole of creation. It
is, as it were, three arms of God projecting themselves outwardly in cosmic
space and time and enacting this drama of life in all the planes of existence.
God plays the role of the actor in this drama, as well as the director and the
witness thereof. These three forces, which proceed from the Supreme Being like
rays from the sun, are known as sattva, rajas and tamas.
They are known as the gunas or the properties of that original condition
which is responsible for the entire panorama of creation. On the one hand there
is the vast world of varieties of material objects, all constituted of the
basic elements of earth, water, fire, air and ether, which constitute or are
formed of the tamas portion of this original emanation from God. One
would wonder how tamas can be in God, because it is regarded as
darkness, a screening out of the light, which cannot be reconciled with the
blaze and the glory of the light of the Creator. This is a point which requires
consideration and understanding. Another aspect rushes forth simultaneously and
divides this creation into various isolated bodies known as jivas,individuals,
you and I and everything that we see as the units of creation—this is the
work of rajas. The dividing factor in creation is called rajas,
and the material substance of creation is called tamas.
Now, life cannot go on with
merely a dividing factor and a material substance, because neither of these
have a sustaining capacity. The material object is like dead matter, almost
equated with a state of unconsciousness, such as a stone, a brick wall, or what
we call the inorganic field, and the force of division, again, cannot be
regarded as an intelligent power. Neither the energy that rushes forth into
division nor the energy that condenses or solidifies itself into matter can be
regarded as intelligent purposive organisers of creation. So God remains as the
ordainer of the law of unity even in the midst of this diversity. This function
of the prevalence of the unifying factor in the midst of this dividing activity
of rajas, together with the inert substantiality of the material cosmos,
is known as sattva.
God’s actions are simultaneous and cannot be said to proceed one after
the other. Everything happens at the same time—a miraculous instantaneity
is the characteristic of God’s activity. He does not work as we do, doing
one thing after another. “Now I am doing this and I will do another thing
later on.” There is no succession of actions or functions in the realm of
the universal creation. These universal forces are impersonal in their nature.
These terms, sattva, rajas and tamas, used here in the context of
the creation of the cosmos, are forces which are not human. That peculiar
feature we call the human element is completely absent in the level of cosmic
existence, because it has not yet originated. There is no distinction in this
classification of what we call human, subhuman, etc., though these qualities
have an individualised form or nature also. The very same sattva, rajas
and tamas begin functioning in a topsy-turvy manner when there is
isolation or the dividing of individuals, just as the reflection of the sun in
shaky, muddy water, or the reflection of one’s own body in a pool or a
mass of water looks topsy-turvily reflected.
In this isolation of the individual, which is the consequence of the dividing
work of rajas, a great calamity befalls everyone. This is the origin of
the story of the fall of the spirit from the angelic Garden of Eden in biblical
mythology and in the mythologies of all creational doctrines. A consciousness
of personality consequent upon an unconsciousness of one’s relation to
God’s universality is the beginning of the catastrophe of human
suffering. There is an unconsciousness preceding our present state of
intellectual, rational, personal consciousness. We cannot be individually
conscious unless we are at the same time unconscious of universality. There is
a veiling power operating at the base of this multitudinous variety of
creation. We are very highly evolved intellectuals and rational individuals, as
we imagine ourselves to be, but we are reflected intelligences, cut off from
the source and divested of the consciousness of our universal relevance to
God’s omnipotent and omnipresent Being.
There was a great philosopher called Schopenhauer in Germany who propounded a doctrine
which is revolting to ordinary understanding, though it has some connection
with what I am saying now. The whole universe is a drama of the devilish will,
says he, which projects or creates this intellect we call the prerogative of
the human being. The point made out here is that there is a cosmic
unconsciousness, a screening out, a clouding, an eclipsing of the reality
before the individual affirmation or assertion commences. We cannot be aware of
ourselves unless we forget God at the same time—the two things cannot go
together. For the person to know that he is Mr. John, at the same time he must
be totally oblivious of his relationship to God. So this oblivion is the
preceding factor; it conditions the very existence of the so-called
intellectual consciousness of one’s individuality. Therefore we are far
from being as great as we imagine ourselves to be.
In this distortion and separation of the individual by the work of rajas,
something very unfortunate has been done. Nothing can be more unfortunate than
to forget the truth and to cling to untruth. We are the untruths appearing here
as so-called individuals, having no connection of one with the other. The truth
is that we are basically united. As I mentioned originally, God in His sattva
aspect cosmically exists even now, just as we as individuals exist even in deep
sleep where we are practically unconscious of our own being. That is why, in
spite of all our self-affirmation and clinging to personalities and things of
the world, we also have a subtle impulse from within us to unite ourselves into
a body, an organisation and a friendly community of people. Even rustics and
boors and very crude intelligences that are undeveloped and are comparable to
the apish type of humanity have this group mentality. Even monkeys and cattle
have this sense to group themselves into bodies or species or types, which is a
very faint reflection of the necessity for garnering such a thing called the
unity behind the diversity, or the division worked out by rajas.
So God exists even in the world, even in this variety of the cosmos. This is
the great philosophical basis that is described in a psychological manner in
the fourteenth chapter of the Bhagavadgita—the division of the three gunas
into sattva, rajas and tamas. The universe, formed in this
manner and consisting of these varieties, is compared to a vast, widespread
tree whose roots are above and branches are below. We all are like the leaves
and the fruits, and are sometimes compared to the birds perching on this tree,
and so on. The roots of the tree are invisible, in the high heavens, because
they are the imperceptible unity that is pervading the variety we call
creation. Hence it is that we cannot see God. Not merely that—we cannot
be even aware of the existence of God due to the intellect being conditioned to
this body and our isolatedness, which asserts itself so vehemently that it will
not permit the awareness of that vast universality called God. Neither can we
see God, nor can we understand God—what could be a greater sorrow for us
then this?
But the great panacea is described in this great gospel, which speaks of this
comparison of the universe as a tree spreading forth downwards through the
branches and getting itself rooted in the supreme Absolute. We are caught up in
this variety on account of clinging to particulars—bodies, our own as
well as those connected with us through social relationship. That this has to
be severed is the great teaching. The art of detachment is the most difficult
thing to understand, because we are accustomed to see union and separation of
bodies. By the term ‘detachment’ we are likely to imagine that a
body has to be physically separated from another body, because we think only in
terms of bodies. For a small child studying in kindergarten, to be taught that
one and one make two, one object has to be placed before it in juxtaposition
with another object, physically. The teacher may put a finger on a solid object
and say, “Here is one object and there is another object, and they make
two objects.” The baby, in that condition, cannot understand abstract
thinking. Likewise an abstract, spiritual concept of detachment is outside the
reach of the mind of the individual who is accustomed only to think in terms of
solid bodies. So when we think of spiritual detachment, renunciation, we think
in particular of a cutting off of bodies, whereas the great teachings of the
spiritual adepts is the disassociation of consciousness from its association
with objectivity of every kind. It is not objects that bind us, but objectivity
of consciousness. The insistence of consciousness that things exist outside it
is the attachment and the detachment.
All these concepts are not a part and parcel of the education of the ordinary
human being. We are brought up in families and societies and atmospheres which
are given to the technique of physically counting things and associating
particulars in solid manners and not abstract, philosophical ways. But when the
Ultimate Being, God Himself, is finally equivalent to the supreme state of
consciousness, chaitanya, and His sole existence cannot permit the
externality of any object outside Him, it amounts to saying that any kind of
detachment to be practiced as a yoga for the purpose of the realisation of God
should be a tendency of consciousness to withdraw from the insistence that
objects are outside. Here is a divine element that is introduced into the
practice of yoga, apart from its physical aspects or psychological manouevers.
The sum and substance of the significance that seems to be hidden behind this
great analogy of the tree as the creation, in toto, seems to be this much.
It was mentioned that God, the Supreme Being, operates in three ways—sattva,
rajas and tamas. This point is brought up again in the fifteenth chapter
of the Gita, where it is stated that God, as purushottama, is superior
and transcendent to kshara and akshara prakritis. The
perishable and the imperishable are both like the arms, again to use the same
comparison, of the one indivisible God. He is the supreme purusha,
consciousness par excellence—purushottama.The so-called jiva,
the individual, and the world outside are both included within the
all-pervading Being of God, and at the same time God is transcendent. So we as
persons here, human beings, are therefore finally inextricable in our
relationship with the world outside, and both these are inviolably related to
God’s super-personal purushottama state. The state of purushottama
is often compared to the jivanmukta condition by many interpreters of
the Bhagavadgita, though it is difficult to say whether that is the intention
of the Gita when it speaks of the purushottama, because God’s
personality seems to be emphasised here for the purpose of contemplation and
meditation.
The term purusha is used in a highly philosophical sense, and not in the
sense of any gender. It is intended to express the characteristic of the ruling
consciousness, and not of the ruled object. Thus it is that wherever two people
sit together, there is a third person between them. Purushottama is
between kshara and akshara. When one whispers into the ear of
another, there is a third one seeing what is going on and listening to what is
spoken, and there is no chance of two people existing without a third being
there at the same time. These two persons do not necessarily mean two human
beings. It is only a way of indicating the presence of a supreme principle
operating between the subjective individual and the objective atmosphere,
whatever be its nature. It may be a person, it may be things, and it may be
mere space and time—whatever it is. So we cannot escape God’s
hands. Wherever we go—even if we fly to heaven or descend to the nether
regions—there we find the great Being Himself greeting us. The glory of
God and the omnipresence of His Being are such that we cannot go outside the
boundary of His existence. Whatever be the power of our wings and the speed
with which we fly, even before we reach our destination He is already there to
greet us.
This purushottama is not a person, like a judge in the court or a head
of a country governing subjects, but is a pervasive power, an omnipresent
reality, and is inescapably present in every little nook and cranny of the
world. The implication of this is not visible in the words of the verses of the
Bhagavadgita, but if we read between the lines we will find the glorious
message that is embedded within these verses, in the midst of these words, as a
string passing through various pearls or gems.
This Supreme Master of the cosmos, the Soul of the universe, rules and operates
through these properties of sattva, rajas and tamas; yet
the Bhagavadgita wants to awaken us to another fact—that God is not
actually threefold. This threefold activity can be boiled down or reduced to a
twofold activity of the positive and the negative powers. We need not call them
by the terms sattva, rajas and tamas. They are only, to
put it in the language of the Gita itself, the divine and undivine forces,
which is another way of saying consciousness which moves us towards unity of
comprehension, and that which moves us towards diversity, dissention and
separation of one from the other.
Both these tendencies are present in everyone, and we as human beings are
particularly concerned with our own state of affairs. We are urged in two
ways—inwardly and outwardly. We have a loving, sympathetic, affectionate
core within us, and also a devilish, separating nature. Both are working within
us at different times—we are good people and bad people at the same time.
Any one particular characteristic can be evoked from us by the operating of a
particular pattern in our personalities. Thus it is that we are god and devil
at the same time, as it were, and any person can behave either way under
different conditions. There is no absolutely good person in the world, and also
no absolutely bad person. Both these characteristics are mixed up in human
individuals in certain proportions, and they are evoked by certain
circumstances that take place outside.
Thus, finally, it can be said that there are two forces—daiva and asura.
These are only theological terms representing the highly incomprehensible
activity of the cosmos by which it evolves and involves itself in the process
of creation, preservation and transformation, sometimes called destruction.
This cyclic movement of all things stands before us as a mighty mystery that we
cannot understand. Thus, to put it concisely before you, it may be said that
the whole universe is a drama, an interesting enactment of various dramatic
personae coming in, and leaving when the curtain drops and the scene is over.
No dramatic persona is indispensable throughout the play, while everyone is
necessary at the particular time when that personality is to be projected in
the scene. So nothing is necessary, and nothing is totally unnecessary in this
universe. This puts the characteristic of impersonality and universality of
operation in the hands of God.
All things in the world are divinely ordained. This is the great message that
comes forth from these mighty verses of the Bhagavadgita. God plays the drama
within Himself—He does not create a world outside, as if there is matter
external to Him. It is a scene and a performance that is going on eternally, as
it were, within His Being, and He Himself is the witness thereof, while it can
be said that He Himself is the actor in the drama. Mystery is the name of this
creation, and wonder is the way in which things operate, even in the least of
circumstances. The mystery that is hidden within a little grain of sand on the
shore of the ocean is cosmically significant. The great mystery that throbs
through the orb of the sun in that resplendent supernatural transcendence that
we see in the sky can also be seen in the little, insignificant sand particle.
In the little ant that crawls in one’s kitchen, one can see the great
glory of Brahma, the Creator Himself. Such is the prevalence and the pervasive
character of the universal in all the little particulars—purushottama
operating through kshara and akshara. The more we contemplate
these mysteries, the more our sins will be discharged and burned up.
The fire of knowledge burns ignorance, burns all impressions of past karmas,
and blazes forth into a luminance of awakening where we do not any more exist
as persons, but move in this world as citizens of the universe, belonging to
all and living as if all things also belong to us. Such is the mighty superman
demonstrated in the personality of Bhagavan Sri Krishna, the citizen of all the
worlds at the same time, and a friend and well-wisher of all beings in this
world—belonging to all and yet belonging to nobody. So, in these few
remarks I cited from one or two chapters of the Bhagavadgita, we have a great
message before us which is worthwhile for us to contemplate every day for our
own welfare. God bless you.
|