This
is the first in a series of essays I am writing based on my thoughts
and experience as a devotee of Krishna, associated with ISKCON, in
the 21st
Century. These thoughts are mine and mine alone, resonant surely with
other devotee's thoughts, but not representative of any community,
temple president, or any other personality or spiritual master
I
have submitted this piece to such websites as ISKCON News and
Dandavats and so far it have not been published. While I hardly think
the thoughts I have here are “radical” in any way, I have noticed
a certain hesitancy to discuss some of the issues herein, like the
place of LGBTQ people within our society of devotees, or to associate
these issues in any kind of official capacity with the institution of
ISKCON. This I find frustrating, because there are many devotees like
myself who want to understand how our society can relate in a more
honest and relevant way with our fellow brothers and sisters on this
planet.
I
hope that these words add to a fruitful and healthy dialogue as to
the present and future shape of our devotional society. I intend no
offense with these words, and if I cause offense by these words, I
sincerely and humbly beg your forgiveness.
One of
the most powerful spiritual experiences I have ever had in my life
was when I had the chance to visit Srila Prabhupada's room at the
Radha-Damodara Mandir in Vrndavana. It was, as you can imagine or
may have experienced yourself, overwhelming to be so distinctly in
the presence of Srila Prabhupada. His vibrations still filled the
room so clearly, so mystically, if I may use that term with all
sincerity, so long after his presence last filled that room
physically. I immediately could sense my own place, who I was, who I
wasn't, and what I was being asked to do, now that I had come this
far, and committed as much as I could to becoming a servant of
Prabhupada's mission.
All I
could really do (all I can really do anyway) was pray, and beg. I
begged to be given the chance to be a part, to be a servant, of
carrying Prabhupada's mission forward into the 21st
Century. Contemplating this responsibility felt like a two-ton weight
on my shoulders. Everything I had considered serious in a
materialistic sense up to that point in my lfe had the buoyancy of a
riven cloud compared to the weight of this calling for Prabhupada. It
was a frightening feeling in one sense, because I had never
considered anything so serious, but it was also a liberation, a
clarity that burned away the angst I had felt as a confused American
kid in my twenties trying to find sense and belonging in the
isolating substance of the material world which surrounded me.
With as
much love and humility as I could muster, I simply asked Prabhupada
for the chance to serve his heart. I asked for the chance to share
the gift he had given me, that he had given all of us. Rarely before
or since have I been able to find such a prayerful state. I felt
embraced by Prabhupada for my efforts, trusted even to do what he
needed me to do, despite the primary fault of my existence in this
world. I've always wanted to be a revolutionary, and here the chance
was being given to me in a way I never could have imagined. Every
step I would now take, even if it was sideways, even if it was
backwards, was to be shaped by this calling. To have any hope, I
would just have to hang on to Prabhupada's lotus feet and never let
go.
**
I was
recently approached by a new friend over Facebook, a gay man who
wanted to share his story and his anguish in approaching the bhakti
tradition, and in particular ISKCON temples. He was clearly and
deeply attracted in his heart to Krishna, and he wanted to walk
forward in that resonance of his heart. Yet he had encountered
prejudice because of his sexual persuasion when he had gone to his
local temple. He was deeply affected by this, and he asked if there
was anything I could tell him to help with his spiritual anxiety. I
told him about the Bhakti Center community in New York City, where I
had lived for over three years and how it was generally more
welcoming than most Hare Krishna temples, but other than this, I had
no easy answer for this obstacle of prejudice that he was
encountering.
It
broke my own heart to hear this. I simply wondered, on the level of
common sense, how those claiming to represent the tradition of
bhakti,
those who claimed to represent the exquisitely magnanimous heart of
Prabhupada, who have the obligation, as best as they can, to
represent the pure and perfect love of Krishna, could look at someone
from the vision of their body, and turn them away from the gift they
themselves had been given.
This
exchange shook me to my core, and left me with some serious and
probing questions. What were these devotees missing or
misunderstanding in the way they had related to my friend? How does
this reflect what we may be missing or misunderstanding in our
communication as devotees to the world at large today? What could I
be missing or misunderstanding in my own conception and perception of
Krishna consciousness? If we are telling ourselves, and if we are
telling others, that “you are not the body”, how can we can judge
anyone by their body? “You are not the body” is a saying every
devotee has as an essential tool in their arsenal of spiritual
communication, but I often wonder, as many devotees do, if we really
understand what this means? Do we really understand that this saying,
as essentially true as it is, can have an alienating effect upon
others if we do not also know how to respond, comprehend, and comfort
the bodily prejudice so many people experience in this world?
**
I
am now a student at Union Theological Seminary in New York City,
which is one of the oldest and most prestigious independent and
progressive Christian seminaries in America. It is a place where I
have the great fortune of having my spirituality shaped through many
different sophisticated, outrageous, and radical lenses. It is a
place where I am able to see and experience the beauty, pain, and
struggle of how so many others outside of the “traditional ISKCON”
universe understand the nature of God and reality. It is a place
where I can develop my identity as a progressive devotee. What does
this mean to be a progressive devotee? For me, it is a conscious
choice to live one's devotional calling by examining how the purport
of Prabhupada's mission, and the culture and tradition of bhakti
which
comes from that mission, can communicate in the most relevant concert
and concern with the contemporary time, place, and circumstances of
the 21st
Century. To be a progressive devotee is not to abandon the
fundamental principles that Prabhupada has given us, but it is to
consider, as Prabhupada himself did, how to make these principles
realistic and relevant for the people of this age.
To
be a progressive devotee is a precarious position. It brings upon the
serious concern and even condemnation of those devotees who are
deeply suspicious of anything labeled as such, who feel that to label
oneself progressive is to commit the offense of abandoning
Prabhupada's core teachings. It creates the opportunity to respond in
a very offensive manner to the sincere concerns of these devotees. I
know I myself must be careful to use this label, for the reality is
that all sincere devotees of Krishna are truly the most progressive
people on this planet. We have been given a revolutionary process
which questions the very status quo of material existence itself. To
label one set of devotees as progressive and another as conservative
is a dangerous political game, yet for the nature of these essays, I
want to highlight certain distinctions, perspectives, and
proclivities that devotees share and don't share, as a way of
highlighting serious issues and arguments which are shaping, and will
shape, the future of Prabhupada's mission in the 21st
Century.
There
is nothing I can do in preventing devotees who are concerned with my
position from expressing their concern. This is their sacred and
natural right to do so, and I welcome any conversation that does not
come from or lead to offensive attitudes and expressions. My
response to their concern and their criticism must stand on the solid
ground of the wisdom that Prabhupada has given us. I write this essay
in that spirit, standing on the bedrock of the gift of Prabhupada's
wisdom as much as I can, and in that spirit, I hope to contribute to
a fruitful and much needed dialogue in ISKCON. In that spirit, I hope
that my own misconceptions can be corrected, that our mutual
unhealthy assumptions can be confronted and transcended, and that the
practice and art of our spiritual communication can be brought to a
more profound and relevant level.
***
The
heart of my concern as a progressive devotee is a question of the
engagement, and the relevance of that engagement, of our movement to
society at large. There are two levels of relevance to be considered
here: the ultimate relevance of bhakti
and
of Krishna consciousness to the existential situation of being in the
material world, a relevance that is beyond reproach and even the
vagaries of human reason itself. Then there is the theological and
sociological relevance of Prabhupada's movement to the concerns of
our contemporary society, concerns which include social justice,
civil rights, poverty, ecological collapse, amongst so many other
connected issues. Here is where I, and many other devotees, feel that
our movement suffers in its communication and in its relevance. I was
particularly struck by something that Yogesvara Dasa (Joshua Greene),
an esteemed and long-standing disciple of Srila Prabhupada, said in
an interview with an academic publication on “Being a Krishna
Devotee”
“The
most candid comment I can give about public perception of Hare
Krishna in North
America
is that I don’t think there is one anymore. The worst possible
thing has happened,
namely
indifference. There was a time going back 20 years perhaps when there
was a public
perception
of the Hare Krishna movement in the sense that people felt accosted
in airports or
read
reports of abuses or saw devotees chanting in public. Devotees were a
more visible part
of
the landscape of American culture previously.
Maybe
then one could say there was a public perception because Hare Krishna
was in the news, it was on television, it was in the papers for good
or for bad...I believe that Vaishnavism as it has been historically
will not be the same in the future for the simple reason that the
world it lives in is not the same. There is a compulsion within
Vaishnava faith to move into the larger society and to become
relevant, and the Vaishnava community has yet to demonstrate its
relevance. For 99.99 percent of the world we don’t matter. Krishna
Consciousness is irrelevant to most of the world.”
To
be relevant, and to find relevance, is to always be considering how
the prophetic voice of our movement is responding to the concerns of
our fellow living entities on this planet. It is to be open to having
a historicist
approach
to how we express our faith in the world. We are not raw
historicists, in that we believe in an Absolute Truth that is beyond
the relativism of history, yet our prophetic voice is best expressed
with an intelligent application of our principles to the time,
places, and circumstances which we are intimately connected to.
To
find our relevance means to understand that we should not frame our
communication to others in such a way that we ignore who they are and
where they are coming from. We also have to prove our worth and pull
our weight. We may not be of this world, but we are in this world.
This we cannot ignore. We have to learn to give the gift that
Prabhupada has given us in such a way that it makes sense in people's
lives and to the concerns in their life. We may tell someone that
they are not the
body,
and yet by doing so, we may completely ignore how we can relate our
transcendental message to their particular situation of bodily
marginalization, pain, and oppression. We may completely ignore the
questions they have for us, as to how the heart of bhakti,
of Krishna's love, speaks to the body they live in and the ground
they stand on.
In
our relation as devotees to the material world, to our own bodies,
and the bodies of others, we must learn to be transcendent,
and we must learn to acknowledge.
To be transcendent is to truly understand that we are eternal spirit
souls, lovers and friends of Krishna, whose true home is the
spiritual world, and that our ultimate destiny is the liberation of
pure devotional service. This is the goal and perfection of our
existence, and all that we do should direct us and all others towards
this goal. This is the gift that Prabhupada has given us.
One
of the most powerful and eternally relevant verses Krishna speaks in
the Bhagavad-Gita
is this:
The
humble sages, by virtue of true knowledge, see with equal vision a
learned and gentle brāhmaṇa, a cow, an elephant, a dog and a
dog-eater [outcaste]. (5.18)
This
verse calls all devotees, all living entities, to a spiritual vision
and lifestyle which has no room for bodily discrimination. For me,
this verse gives us the foundation of equality and justice which
underlies all movements for the same within the material realm. The
vision of the sage is the essential and pristine vision which must be
at the core of all movements for equality and justice in the material
world, from the fight for civil rights for those who are marginalized
because of their race, gender, or sexuality, all the way to the
consideration of the right to life, decency, and sustainable health
for the wide diversity of plant and animal life that this planet
holds. As Srila Prabhupada writes in his purport to this verse:
A
Kṛṣṇa conscious person does not make any distinction between
species or castes. The brāhmaṇa and
the outcaste may be different from the social point of view, or a
dog, a cow and an elephant may be different from the point of view of
species, but these differences of body are meaningless from the
viewpoint of a learned transcendentalist. This is due to their
relationship to the Supreme, for the Supreme Lord, by His plenary
portion as Paramātmā, is present in everyone’s heart. Such an
understanding of the Supreme is real knowledge.
The
vision of the sage sees reality as it actually is, but this doesn't
mean that the sage ignores the reality that is right in front of
him/her. When Prabhupada says that the “differences of body are
meaningless”, he is not saying that those who claim to be a sage
should treat everyone the same regardless of their bodily situation.
The real sage does not discriminate according to the body. He/she
gives the same grace of spiritual knowledge to everyone regardless of
the color of their skin, the shape of their caste, or whatever their
sexual preference is. The humble sage is able to use his/her
intelligence to shape their message in such a way so that the mercy
of Guru and Gauranga speaks specifically and intimately to each
person's bodily/mental/existential situation.
The
humble sage is able that to understand that to merely say “you are
not the body” and not acknowledge the person's specific
psycho-physical makeup is not enough. This acknowledgement is the
supremely compassionate and intelligent awareness of the bodily,
social, political, and sexual contexts that people come from,
allowing the principles of bhakti
to speak to them in such a way that it doesn't add to the injustice
and oppression that they may face because of their body. To be able
to acknowledge in this way is to give the gift Krishna consciousness
so that it confronts this oppression and injustice and gives the
ways, means, and inspiration to transcend it.
Frankly,
in the general history of ISKCON, I feel that we not effectively
learned how to transcend and how to acknowledge. I kneel and beg to
be corrected, but I don't just base this statement on my own
speculation, but on the experience and sincere feelings of many other
devotees that I have encountered. Because we struggle so much to
transcend and acknowledge our own bodies and our own standing in this
world, we are left with a number of psychological and psychosocial
hang-ups which have crippled much of our outreach. It has tended to
harden our hearts, and with our hearts encased in the stone of our
guilt, envy, and shame, how can we truly acknowledge and answer to
those who approach us wanting to transcend their own pain and walk
towards the loving embrace of Krishna?
As
we try to mature in treating the subject of our transcendence with
more compassion, patience, and common sense than has been the history
of our movement, as we try not to “storm the gates of heaven”, as
we understand that to purify our hearts is something that is the
journey of a lifetime, or lifetimes, that must be done hand-in-hand
and heart-to-heart with each other, we must learn to acknowledge our
own bodies, our own material natures, and how these aspects of our
existential situation can lead us further on to transcendence.
To
be able to acknowledge means to not see our bodily and material
situations as obstacles which should be smashed, but as aspects of
our being which must be seen in the light of compassion and the
wisdom of sastra, and
also in the light of our common sense and natural experience of our
lives in this world. We have to reach people at the point of how
they live their own lives,
in the reality of their social
location,
and not through any oppressive assumptions of meaning that we may
have of what their lives and bodies represent. In the same way we
have to meet our own experience as devotees in terms of who
we actually are,
and not through the frameworks of assumption others may place upon
us.
In
the next essay I hope to further develop these points, to acknowledge
my own discomfort with identifying with ISKCON, and to ask a serious
question of devotees: do we really understand how bad the Kali-Yuga
is in the manifestations which presently surround us and which
oppress so many of us.