Every passage of scripture possesses
intrinsic instructive value and yet I’ve always found that there are certain
sections or particular verses of scripture that resonate with me more
powerfully than other verses or sections. Now and then I intend to dedicate some of my blog
posts to certain scriptural passages, which I find particularly compelling and
inspiring. I am going to get this process underway today by focusing on a
particular verse of the Bhagavad Gita that captured my attention the first time
I studied the text almost four to five years ago; I hope that my analysis of
the verse here will serve some value in my readers’ lives by either enhancing
your understanding of the text or by provoking in you greater interest in the
subject matter.
The verse that I'm focusing on is verse
number 26 from the ninth chapter of the Bhagavad Gita:
patram puspam phalam
toyam
yo me bhaktya prayacchati
tad aham
bhakty-upahrtam
asnami prayatatmanah
‘If one offers me with love and devotion a
leaf, a flower, a fruit or some water, I will accept it’.
Theologically, this verse is
deceptively simple. At first sight, it appears as if Krishna’s stipulation
entails no more than the simple instruction to offer him four items, patram (a
leaf), puspam (a flower), phalam (a fruit) and toyam (some water). Bhagavan
promises to accept the offering of such items and that seems to be it with the
verse. There is nothing extra that is going on, or so it seems. The salient
word in this verse, however, is ‘bhakti’ which literally means ‘devotion’.
Clearly then, to appreciate, to the fullest extent, the significance of this
text we’ve got to say something about what it means to offer something in
devotion.
Devotion in this context, it should
be stressed, means more than piety or ordinary religiosity. In fact, Krishna
attempts to clarify this point in the verse by referring to the word bhakti twice in the
same text; he begins with the phrase bhaktya prayacchati, which literally means
to 'offer in devotion', and then proceeds in the second sentence of the verse to
use the phrase 'bhakti upahrtam', which again literally means ‘offered by the
process of bhakti’. If we define 'bhakti upahrtam' in the context of this passage
to mean ‘offered by the process of bhakti’ then the verse suddenly becomes
tautologous: the verse would then read: ‘ I accept that which is offered by
devotion from whoever offers by devotion’.
Viswanath Chakravarti Thakur, in his
commentary on this verse, points out that the word bhaktya in this context
should be taken to mean ‘a person endowed with genuine devotion’. If we adopt
the Thakur’s suggestion, and understand the word bhaktya to be referring to a
pure or real devotee then the verse acquires fresh meaning and a coherence that
it previously lacked. This notion of a real devotee or of pure devotion is
central to a proper and full understanding of this text and so I want to examine
this issue in some detail.
So to recap very quickly, in the
verse quoted above, Krishna promises that if a pure devotee offers him, with
devotion, a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or some water, he will accept that
offering of devotion. According to the Gita, Krishna is Bhagavan or the
personal Absolute and part of his supremacy entails not requiring anything from
anybody. In other words, this verse under inspection should not be interpreted
as a qualification of Krishna’s self-sufficiency; if in this verse Krishna is
requesting anything, it’s a request for love and devotion. Clearly, in terms of
the objects of this world, there is nothing that we can offer him that he
doesn’t already possess. Therefore, if there is anything that we can truly
offer him (if offering means more than simply returning to God what was
properly his in the first place) then we have to offer that which is central to our very being: our love and
devotion.
In whom we choose to repose our love
and devotion in is a decision that Bhagavan himself doesn’t interfere with.
Therefore, in this beautiful verse, Krishna invites us to reconsider our
objects of devotion in this world and by promising to accept our offerings of
love, puts himself forward as the ideal object of devotion. In true egalitarian
spirit, the verse also appears to indicate that the preeminent position of
devotion renders utterly irrelevant the background or status of the devotee
doing the offering. It may not seem like it, but this is an extraordinary
affirmation of the potency of devotion; the idea that devotion supersedes
everything else including birth, status, gender, caste and so on constitutes, in many ways, a radical departure from the more caste-conscious and gender
specific mentality that prevails around India today and which finds religious expression
in a number of ritually oriented literatures.
I’ve written a lot about the need
for devotion but I haven’t really explained what genuine devotion is or who a
genuine devotee is. I said earlier that the idea of devotion, as articulated in
this context, transcends the more limited and less spiritual notion of piety or
religiosity. Devotion or bhakti, in my tradition (Chaitanya Vaishnavism), is
understood as constituting passionate attachment to the unmotivated and
uninterrupted service of the Lord. This sentence is packed with meaning and
there are a number of themes that we need to unpack.
By adopting the phrase ‘passionate
attachment’, I am trying to articulate the idea that genuine devotion to
Krishna properly entails adopting a course of conduct wherein one actively and
physically serves God according to their capacity. Srila Prabhupada quite
intentionally avoided translating the word bhakti as simply devotion; instead
he opted for the expression ‘devotional service’. Prabhupada’s selection of
words here was not arbitrary; he was revealing something quite profound about
his understanding of what bhakti involves. Bhakti for Prabhupada and other
Vaishnava teachers is not just about an emotive disposition towards
Krishna; rather it involves actually engaging in his service by, for instance,
reciting his name, serving his murti, remembering his divine activities (as
they are narrated in the scriptures) and so on and so forth.
A proper devotee, then, engages in
the service of Krishna by engaging in some form of devotional expression. Again,
however, we can advance our understanding further by highlighting other
prominent characteristics of pure devotion. Two characteristics of such
devotion involve, in my view, the need for devotional service to be unmotivated
and uninterrupted. The two terms appear to be self-explanatory but I still
think its important to elucidate their exact relevance here.
More often than not, on the rare
occasion that we do engage in some form of devotional expression, we do so with
ulterior motives in mind. We’ll sit down with a rosary in our hands as we
progress in our recitation of God’s name, we silently petition God, imploring
him to assist us in myriad ways (for students, the most common is exam
success). I don’t want to sound overly dismissive and unduly harsh but such
devotional expression, as if it needed to be said, does not constitute proper
devotional practice. Of course, we all experience problems and the fact that we
even turn to God during such times is at least evidence of our belief and trust
in God; in an age of growing disbelief, that is, in and of itself, commendable.
But we must strive to improve the quality of our devotion by disentangling our
devotional practice from any consideration bar attachment to the service of
God. Unmotivated bhakti, therefore, means bhakti that is not performed with the
view of achieving a certain material outcome.
Bhakti must also be uninterrupted.
My decision to write about unmotivated bhakti first was purely intentional; in
one sense, motivated bhakti can never be uninterrupted. The problem is, if we
make our practice of devotion conditional on the attainment of a particular
(material) goal then inevitably our practice will suffer in the long term; if
we do attain our goal, we cease to practice our devotion with the same level of
enthusiasm and fervor and if our devotional efforts appear unsuccessful, out of
frustration we decide to retire our bhakti. Either way, our bhakti suffers.
Coming to think of it, uninterrupted
bhakti can also mean something else. There are some traditions in Hinduism
which view bhakti as a useful meditative exercise that can assist in the
participant’s journey of self-discovery. According to these largely non-theistic
traditions, upon self-realization, bhakti has no further utility in the life of
the participant. This understanding of bhakti as a utility-enhancing tool that
can be dispensed with as one chooses is anathema to the Vaishnava understanding
of and emphasis on the enduring status of love and devotion in religious
experience. This issue, of course, admits of a much greater degree of
complexity and I intend to revisit this area in a future post.
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