Planet ISKCON

From Elephant Journal

Genius is a multifaceted jewel. It has many rough edges, and it doesn’t care for any mundane norms or compromises.

The package that genius is wrapped in doesn’t necessarily belie what is within but it is the duty of time to reveal that this genius— in whatever forms it takes—speaks to our body, mind and soul in many profound and challenging ways.

I think Steve Jobs was a genius. Of course the nature of Jobs’s character and his integrity as a person are quite complicated. History will see him as the “poster boy” for the troubled, difficult persona of the genius. History will also reveal that, as he expressed it to his biographer Walter Isaacson, his feeling that he follows in a line of innovators that includes Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein, was not mere hyperbole. His influence on our cultural expressions, on our connectivity and communication, and in the ways we define ourselves as biological beings in an increasingly technological world is already immense and will only grow more so.

Being a spiritual seeker, my obligation is to see the glass more than half-full when I examine the nature of such a complex and powerful personality.  The Bhagavad Gita tells us that the truly wise person sees everyone on a spiritual level, beyond the body-mind construct which is the general source of all our foibles and follies. While being very clear and honest about the dark side of Steve Jobs, still I can’t help but appreciate the honest sincerity of his ambition, his own spiritual leanings and his desire to create a legacy of ideas and products that speaks to the best of human creativity at the intersection of technology and aesthetics.

What particularly strikes me about him was his attitude towards design.  An early slogan of Apple was that “simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” This mirrors a saying from my own Hindu tradition, echoed by such great teachers as Mahatma Gandhi and bhakti-yoga pioneer A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, of “simple living and high thinking.” The idea is that only when we simplify, when we clear away the dust that only complicates the obvious truth, will we be able to discover the presence of enlightenment within ourselves and all around us.

In Walter Isaacson’s excellent Jobs biography, Jonny Ive—Jobs’s confidante and core designer during Apple’s incredible renaissance of the last decade— shares his take on this philosophy of simplicity:

Why do we assume simple is good?….Simplicity isn’t just a visual style. It’s not just minimalism or the absence of clutter. It involves digging through the depth of complexity. To be truly simple you have to go really deep.

We now reap the benefits of this philosophy in so many interesting ways in our lives.  Our personal computers, tablets, phones and our whole conscious existence are full of these little apps that connect us and push us and inform us in ways that deftly ride along the balance of aesthetic and technology that so inspired Jobs’s overall vision.

What exactly is an app? To put it roughly, it is a little program which shapes our daily life in a particular way.  We can just see it for what it apparently is, a bit of cutting-edge technology. But I want to go a little bit further, into the depth of complexity, to shine a different light of definition on this whole idea of the app.

Disclaimer: Reading the bio of Jobs and also being the recent purchaser of a wonderful, sturdy, fast and sleek Macbook Pro, I have the inklings of  having become an Apple cultist.  Some of the feelings are not entirely dissimilar to my spiritual practice, for both give one the sense of a particular worldview.  That is why, as I was walking through New York City recently, meditating on my prayer beads, I was struck by the idea that the mantra I was chanting was also like an app and how it was the best app I had in my life.

My spiritual practice revolves around the chanting of the maha-mantra, which is part of the Bhakti (devotional) path of Hinduism. The mantra features three names of the Divine, of God, as known in the Bhakti tradition: Krishna (the masculine aspect of the Divine), Hare (the feminine aspect of the Divine), and Rama (the pleasure reservoir of the Divine).  The whole mantra goes like this:


The maha-mantra is, in one sense, a tool in the toolbox of apps that is part of my daily existence as a spirit in the material world. But in the ultimate sense it is so much more. By chanting this mantra, we are taken through the depth of complexity of our own being, allowing us to see and transcend all the illusions that we carry in our consciousness. We come to the simple core of our being, as eternal souls in a loving relationship with God.

While my Weather Channel app can give me a grasp of my environment, and my IBooks Author app can help let loose a real dose of my productive creativity, my maha-mantra app helps me to understand who I really am, at the deepest level of my being. This is an app whose substance is entirely spiritual and which helps me to understand that the substance of my being is also entirely spiritual.  It is the ultimate app to me because it contains the essence of all divinity.

By chanting the names of God—because these names are non-different from the substance of God—one’s being comes directly in touch with God. By being in contact with the vibration of God the dust of the heart, or all of the chains which keep us stuck in the vagaries of our ego, is removed. It is a very simple practice of meditation on sound vibration, yet what can be more sophisticated and wonderful than the presence of God?

It is the ultimate app because it is available to everyone, for free, at all times and is not at all contingent on one’s skin color, sexuality, political preference, or whether one is even spiritually qualified to practice it.  One doesn’t have to be a Hindu to chant the maha-mantra. It enhances any kind of spiritual search because it is a universal app. It connects one to the source, the powerhouse of reality, and is inclusive of everyone.

It is the ultimate app because it’s fully open-source. It can be transmitted to anyone at any time.  Whatever the technology of your being, of your personality, the maha-mantra fits into the system of your life.

It is the ultimate app because, being of eternal spiritual substance, it never breaks down, and it never needs an upgrade.  It’s always in style, and it’s always available.

There have been calls for a “spiritual Steve Jobs”  to appear, to innovate some of the rusted structures of spirituality.  I can certainly agree with this sentiment in many ways, but it is essential to remember that real change begins within our own heart.  The maha-mantra is a tool, a spiritualized lifestyle app, which allows us to come to the core of the real innovation and creativity of our true being.

In the Bhakti tradition it is said that everyone has the responsibility to become a teacher, a guide, a selfless sharer of the essence they are finding. Understanding the real tools, the real apps, of our spiritual life and seeing their immense value in our daily life can help us to become givers of the Divine, of God’s reality.  It can bring us to the simplicity of our being, and allow us to give the ultimate sophistication.

From Elephant Journal

Genius is a multifaceted jewel. It has many rough edges, and it doesn’t care for any mundane norms or compromises.

The package that genius is wrapped in doesn’t necessarily belie what is within but it is the duty of time to reveal that this genius— in whatever forms it takes—speaks to our body, mind and soul in many profound and challenging ways.

I think Steve Jobs was a genius. Of course the nature of Jobs’s character and his integrity as a person are quite complicated. History will see him as the “poster boy” for the troubled, difficult persona of the genius. History will also reveal that, as he expressed it to his biographer Walter Isaacson, his feeling that he follows in a line of innovators that includes Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein, was not mere hyperbole. His influence on our cultural expressions, on our connectivity and communication, and in the ways we define ourselves as biological beings in an increasingly technological world is already immense and will only grow more so.

Being a spiritual seeker, my obligation is to see the glass more than half-full when I examine the nature of such a complex and powerful personality.  The Bhagavad Gita tells us that the truly wise person sees everyone on a spiritual level, beyond the body-mind construct which is the general source of all our foibles and follies. While being very clear and honest about the dark side of Steve Jobs, still I can’t help but appreciate the honest sincerity of his ambition, his own spiritual leanings and his desire to create a legacy of ideas and products that speaks to the best of human creativity at the intersection of technology and aesthetics.

What particularly strikes me about him was his attitude towards design.  An early slogan of Apple was that “simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” This mirrors a saying from my own Hindu tradition, echoed by such great teachers as Mahatma Gandhi and bhakti-yoga pioneer A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, of “simple living and high thinking.” The idea is that only when we simplify, when we clear away the dust that only complicates the obvious truth, will we be able to discover the presence of enlightenment within ourselves and all around us.

In Walter Isaacson’s excellent Jobs biography, Jonny Ive—Jobs’s confidante and core designer during Apple’s incredible renaissance of the last decade— shares his take on this philosophy of simplicity:

Why do we assume simple is good?….Simplicity isn’t just a visual style. It’s not just minimalism or the absence of clutter. It involves digging through the depth of complexity. To be truly simple you have to go really deep.

We now reap the benefits of this philosophy in so many interesting ways in our lives.  Our personal computers, tablets, phones and our whole conscious existence are full of these little apps that connect us and push us and inform us in ways that deftly ride along the balance of aesthetic and technology that so inspired Jobs’s overall vision.

What exactly is an app? To put it roughly, it is a little program which shapes our daily life in a particular way.  We can just see it for what it apparently is, a bit of cutting-edge technology. But I want to go a little bit further, into the depth of complexity, to shine a different light of definition on this whole idea of the app.

Disclaimer: Reading the bio of Jobs and also being the recent purchaser of a wonderful, sturdy, fast and sleek Macbook Pro, I have the inklings of  having become an Apple cultist.  Some of the feelings are not entirely dissimilar to my spiritual practice, for both give one the sense of a particular worldview.  That is why, as I was walking through New York City recently, meditating on my prayer beads, I was struck by the idea that the mantra I was chanting was also like an app and how it was the best app I had in my life.

My spiritual practice revolves around the chanting of the maha-mantra, which is part of the Bhakti (devotional) path of Hinduism. The mantra features three names of the Divine, of God, as known in the Bhakti tradition: Krishna (the masculine aspect of the Divine), Hare (the feminine aspect of the Divine), and Rama (the pleasure reservoir of the Divine).  The whole mantra goes like this:


The maha-mantra is, in one sense, a tool in the toolbox of apps that is part of my daily existence as a spirit in the material world. But in the ultimate sense it is so much more. By chanting this mantra, we are taken through the depth of complexity of our own being, allowing us to see and transcend all the illusions that we carry in our consciousness. We come to the simple core of our being, as eternal souls in a loving relationship with God.

While my Weather Channel app can give me a grasp of my environment, and my IBooks Author app can help let loose a real dose of my productive creativity, my maha-mantra app helps me to understand who I really am, at the deepest level of my being. This is an app whose substance is entirely spiritual and which helps me to understand that the substance of my being is also entirely spiritual.  It is the ultimate app to me because it contains the essence of all divinity.

By chanting the names of God—because these names are non-different from the substance of God—one’s being comes directly in touch with God. By being in contact with the vibration of God the dust of the heart, or all of the chains which keep us stuck in the vagaries of our ego, is removed. It is a very simple practice of meditation on sound vibration, yet what can be more sophisticated and wonderful than the presence of God?

It is the ultimate app because it is available to everyone, for free, at all times and is not at all contingent on one’s skin color, sexuality, political preference, or whether one is even spiritually qualified to practice it.  One doesn’t have to be a Hindu to chant the maha-mantra. It enhances any kind of spiritual search because it is a universal app. It connects one to the source, the powerhouse of reality, and is inclusive of everyone.

It is the ultimate app because it’s fully open-source. It can be transmitted to anyone at any time.  Whatever the technology of your being, of your personality, the maha-mantra fits into the system of your life.

It is the ultimate app because, being of eternal spiritual substance, it never breaks down, and it never needs an upgrade.  It’s always in style, and it’s always available.

There have been calls for a “spiritual Steve Jobs”  to appear, to innovate some of the rusted structures of spirituality.  I can certainly agree with this sentiment in many ways, but it is essential to remember that real change begins within our own heart.  The maha-mantra is a tool, a spiritualized lifestyle app, which allows us to come to the core of the real innovation and creativity of our true being.

In the Bhakti tradition it is said that everyone has the responsibility to become a teacher, a guide, a selfless sharer of the essence they are finding. Understanding the real tools, the real apps, of our spiritual life and seeing their immense value in our daily life can help us to become givers of the Divine, of God’s reality.  It can bring us to the simplicity of our being, and allow us to give the ultimate sophistication.

Question: If we cannot remember our previous lives, how are those previous experiences a learning experience?

 

Answer by Srila Hridayananda das Goswami:

I explain that Freud’s real contribution was the discovery that many of the primary forces that motivate and determine our behavior are actually subconscious or unconscious.

If you remembered the details of your past life, imagine the gender issues everyone would have! How could you establish committed relationships when you remember your previous 784 partners. How could you love your parents when you remember thousands of other parents.

In short, you would be totally dysfunctional and psychotic. The deep memory of our past, not the details but the tendencies, the attitudes, the good and evil, is still there in our deep psychology. So-called ‘phobias’, ie irrational fears, are actually reactions to previous experiences.

Thus acrophobia, fear of heights, arises because in a past life one fell from a high place. The real benefit of karmic reactions is that our subtle body is purified, refined, corrected. After all, the specific external behavior was simply a manifestation of our mental propensities. Thus we need not, should not, recuperate the external details. But we can access our deep mental states, and also benefit from the cure in the form of karmic reactions.

With best wishes,

Hridayananda das Goswami

From the "Occupy Wall Street" section at The Huffington Post

As a spiritual person, I have felt aloof from the Occupy Wall Street movement. I have thought about this aloofness a great deal, spoken and dialogued about it, and written about it, but I still struggle to put my head and heart together over how I can serve and contribute to Occupy and within the realm of social justice as a whole.

At a recent panel discussion at Union Theological Seminary, entitled "Being Mad And What To Do About It: What Occupiers And The Occupied Can Learn From Interfaith Dialogue," my frustration was crystallized to a certain extent. As my friend Samir Selmanovic spoke eloquently about the need to deepen our compassionate spirit in our dialogue with the "other," i.e the people who run the machine of Wall Street, and as I heard the responses from Occupiers in the audience who refused to acknowledge the need for any such kind of dialogue, the nature of my own disconnection from the Occupy movement became more clear.

I felt that, as natural and acceptable as it is in one sense to feel anger at some of the entities on Wall Street. the "vampire squids" and "evil bankers," and as natural as it is to respond to being dehumanized by such entities by dehumanizing them in return, as a spiritual person my engagement with this immense problem must go deeper. It must include yet transcend the rage, exasperation, and frustration all of us feel.

One can say that these "evil bankers" don't deserve a compassionate dialogue, yet compassion is multifaceted. It is not just good vibes, but the strength of providing what is truly needed for someone to give up their selfishness and illusion, even if that means the strong arm of justice and the clear light of truth.

One can say that because of the power dynamics at hand, because of the immense wealth and influence that Wall Street has in this discussion, that to engage with them is fruitless. Yet there is nothing more powerful than a spiritual response to injustice and inequality. If you doubt what I am saying, just look at the lives of Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi, among many others. The divinity behind their voice was what gave them the power to make such immense change.

I can relate to the struggle Thomas Merton went through in the 1960s, as he lived his life as a Christian monk yet was deeply drawn into the monumental struggles of civil rights and nuclear war. As a committed spiritualist, his response to these issues required an incredible amount of depth and clarity. One passage, from his book "Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander," elucidates my feelings towards how we should view the "Other" or our "enemy" much better that I could ever say:

The tactic of nonviolence is a tactic of love that seeks the salvation and redemption of the opponent, not his castigation, humiliation and defeat. A pretended nonviolence that seeks to defeat and humiliate the adversary by spiritual instead of physical attack is little more than a confession of weakness. This may be easy to talk about in theory. It is not easy to practice, especially when the adversary is aroused to a bitter and violent defense of an injustice which he believes to be just. We must therefore be careful how we talk about our opponents, and still more careful how we regulate our differences with our collaborators.

I was particularly impressed by what author/Wall Street veteran Monika Mitchell said during the panel at Union. She made it very clear (and also does so through the powerful book, Conversations With Wall Street, that she and her husband Peter Ressler wrote) that Wall Street is full of living, breathing, even ethical human beings who are deeply affected by the transgressions that have happened, and who deeply desire to bring the integral and the personal back into the culture of Wall Street.
I was also moved by a comment Samir made, in which he wondered and called out for people to minister and counsel to the people within the crypt of Wall Street itself. I told him of my friend Rasanath, whom I have lived with as a monk for the past three years, and whose remarkable experience of giving up a lucrative career with Bank of America to live as a monk has given him the perspective and calling to become a spiritual guide for many people on the Street.

The only response to any injustice I can give, as a spiritual person, is a humane response. It is a response which doesn't ignore the injustice at hand but which transmutes into something that actually moves and heals. I ask our fellow Occupiers to consider the language, tone, and motivation of their response, so that we can deepen our ability to affect the change we seek.

From the "Occupy Wall Street" section at The Huffington Post

As a spiritual person, I have felt aloof from the Occupy Wall Street movement. I have thought about this aloofness a great deal, spoken and dialogued about it, and written about it, but I still struggle to put my head and heart together over how I can serve and contribute to Occupy and within the realm of social justice as a whole.

At a recent panel discussion at Union Theological Seminary, entitled "Being Mad And What To Do About It: What Occupiers And The Occupied Can Learn From Interfaith Dialogue," my frustration was crystallized to a certain extent. As my friend Samir Selmanovic spoke eloquently about the need to deepen our compassionate spirit in our dialogue with the "other," i.e the people who run the machine of Wall Street, and as I heard the responses from Occupiers in the audience who refused to acknowledge the need for any such kind of dialogue, the nature of my own disconnection from the Occupy movement became more clear.

I felt that, as natural and acceptable as it is in one sense to feel anger at some of the entities on Wall Street. the "vampire squids" and "evil bankers," and as natural as it is to respond to being dehumanized by such entities by dehumanizing them in return, as a spiritual person my engagement with this immense problem must go deeper. It must include yet transcend the rage, exasperation, and frustration all of us feel.

One can say that these "evil bankers" don't deserve a compassionate dialogue, yet compassion is multifaceted. It is not just good vibes, but the strength of providing what is truly needed for someone to give up their selfishness and illusion, even if that means the strong arm of justice and the clear light of truth.

One can say that because of the power dynamics at hand, because of the immense wealth and influence that Wall Street has in this discussion, that to engage with them is fruitless. Yet there is nothing more powerful than a spiritual response to injustice and inequality. If you doubt what I am saying, just look at the lives of Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi, among many others. The divinity behind their voice was what gave them the power to make such immense change.

I can relate to the struggle Thomas Merton went through in the 1960s, as he lived his life as a Christian monk yet was deeply drawn into the monumental struggles of civil rights and nuclear war. As a committed spiritualist, his response to these issues required an incredible amount of depth and clarity. One passage, from his book "Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander," elucidates my feelings towards how we should view the "Other" or our "enemy" much better that I could ever say:

The tactic of nonviolence is a tactic of love that seeks the salvation and redemption of the opponent, not his castigation, humiliation and defeat. A pretended nonviolence that seeks to defeat and humiliate the adversary by spiritual instead of physical attack is little more than a confession of weakness. This may be easy to talk about in theory. It is not easy to practice, especially when the adversary is aroused to a bitter and violent defense of an injustice which he believes to be just. We must therefore be careful how we talk about our opponents, and still more careful how we regulate our differences with our collaborators.

I was particularly impressed by what author/Wall Street veteran Monika Mitchell said during the panel at Union. She made it very clear (and also does so through the powerful book, Conversations With Wall Street, that she and her husband Peter Ressler wrote) that Wall Street is full of living, breathing, even ethical human beings who are deeply affected by the transgressions that have happened, and who deeply desire to bring the integral and the personal back into the culture of Wall Street.
I was also moved by a comment Samir made, in which he wondered and called out for people to minister and counsel to the people within the crypt of Wall Street itself. I told him of my friend Rasanath, whom I have lived with as a monk for the past three years, and whose remarkable experience of giving up a lucrative career with Bank of America to live as a monk has given him the perspective and calling to become a spiritual guide for many people on the Street.

The only response to any injustice I can give, as a spiritual person, is a humane response. It is a response which doesn't ignore the injustice at hand but which transmutes into something that actually moves and heals. I ask our fellow Occupiers to consider the language, tone, and motivation of their response, so that we can deepen our ability to affect the change we seek.

Questions: What does it mean when the Vedas state that men should protect women?

 

Answer by Srila Hridayananda das Goswami:

Prabhupada and Shastras do teach the protection of women. Krishna also says in the Gita: yad yad acarati sresthas… “people follow the leader’s example.” Thus a man who sets the right Krishna conscious example will be able to guide and inspire a woman.

Men must also realize that to protect does not mean to subjugate, humiliate or dominate. It means to protect. Shastra gives many examples of husbands who protected their wives by occasionally accepting that in a particular case, the wife had a better understanding of a situation. Examples:

1. The brahmana wives fed Krishna’s friends, when their husbands refused and forbade them to do so.

2. The wives of Kaliya surrendered to Krishna before their husband.

3. The great Pandu gave up his determination that Kunti have more sons with demigods and accepted her argument.

Power corrupts and in this age, we have seen many instances not only of women becoming corrupted by seizing power, but of the same happening to men. In the name of Vedic culture, we have seen too many cases of domestic violence and other forms of marital abuse.

Vedic culture is sophisticated, nuanced and subtle. Ignoring those subtle, deep qualities, we are at times left with crude male chauvinism or mundane feminism, rather than true Vedic culture.

With best wishes,

Hridayananda das Goswami

Let’s get ready for Sri Prahlada’s Kirtan at Qi Yoga. This is going to be his first Kirtan after a long break. 27th of May at Freshwater. Bookings at www.qiyoga.net

A few days ago Ganda slipped trying to get up one of the two ramps leading to the barn. The ramp is two feet from the ground due to erosion and when it rains there is boot sucking mud at the end of the ramp. It is just too much for Ganda due to his arthritic back legs to get through the mud and step up two feet. In this photo Ganda is getting some loving attention from the ISCOWP staff and one of his favorite treas.

To get more details and help Ganda go to Ganda Needs Your Help!

Thank you so much!

A few days ago Ganda slipped trying to get up one of the two ramps leading to the barn. The ramp is two feet from the ground due to erosion and when it rains there is boot sucking mud at the end of the ramp. It is just too much for Ganda due to his arthritic back legs to get through the mud and step up two feet. In this photo Ganda is getting some loving attention from the ISCOWP staff and one of his favorite treas.

To get more details and help Ganda go to Ganda Needs Your Help!

Thank you so much!

Download: 2011-08-13 - Toronto 24hr Kirtan - 20 - Gopi Gita dasi.mp3

My debut piece at the Huffington Post

I recently took a pilgrimage to Corpus Christi Church on 121st Street off of Broadway, here in New York City. This is where Thomas Merton, the great Catholic monk/mystic/author, was baptized, formally beginning a spiritual journey which has captivated and inspired millions of truth-seekers over the past few generations, myself included.

It was a special enough moment to be there, but a certain deeper resonance came as I stepped back out into the street, as I suddenly saw my past, present and future all before me. My past, raised in the Catholic tradition by my family in Detroit, as represented by Corpus Christi Church and Merton, faced me in my present situation, as an aspiring Hindu minister in New York City. I turned to my left to see the potentiality of my future, as represented by Union Theological Seminary, where I am currently applying, and where I hope to find an experience to harmonize my spiritual aspirations with my concern to be a servant to create justice in the world.

I was reminded that we owe a tremendous debt to that which has shaped us, to those who have helped to form us. We can forget this so easily, when the cult of our own individuality oversteps its boundaries. I was once again reminded that what I appreciate most of all in my own spiritual journey is gaining a greater and more loving acceptance of where I have come from, from the sacred roots of my family.

The Catholic faith of my youth planted within me the seeds to seek the truth. Now the tables have turned, as my experience of the incredible vistas of Hindu theology and practice has turned a shining light back to where I was before. In fact, I see that where I was before is very much the same as I am now. My Hindu faith has made me a better Christian.

Even as a child, the stories and wisdom I received in church and in catechism spoke to me of a profound yet simple reality: God is a person who knows and loves me dearly and deeply, and that I am also a person who can return that love in a very personal and unique way.

As I began to study the great Bhagavad-Gita, I found out that my seemingly childish impression of a personal and loving God was not actually so. It was steeped in the deepest truth. The theology of the Gita is immense and all-inclusive. The reality of the Divine is explained in three ways: God is His all-pervasive, transpersonal essence, the guide or conscience within our heart, and also a distinct individual. It is His unique personal feature which the Gita describes as being the preeminent of these three aspects.

The Gita climaxes with this passage, in which Krishna, the original Personality of God as described in Hinduism, tells his friend Arjuna that:

Always think of Me, become My devotee, worship Me and offer your homage unto Me. Thus you will come to Me without fail. I promise you this because you are My very dear friend.

I remember hearing, as a child, that God was always with me, seeing what I was doing, understanding my heart. There was never a moment where I felt threatened by this. Instead, I simply felt like I had a dear friend who would always be with me, and who would always help me, and whom I felt I could love in return. As I entered into the Bhakti faith I began to experience this simple reality in all its depth.
The path of Bhakti which I follow is a system of connection, or yoga, with God, based on the idea of loving, devotional service. Real devotional service is the giving of one's body, mind, and words to the service of God. In the Bhakti-rasamrta-sindhu, a classical 16th century devotional treatise, we read that:

"When first-class devotional service develops, one must be devoid of all material desires, knowledge obtained by monistic philosophy, and fruitive action. The devotee must constantly serve Kṛṣṇa favorably, as Kṛṣṇa desires."

The Hindu diaspora is filled with examples of such fidelity, including A.C Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, who braved the rigors of old age to bring the Bhakti tradition to the West at the age of 70 in 1965. In my exploration of my Christian roots, I come across the same mood in St. Francis of Assisi, who understood very deeply that to truly serve means to be an instrument of God. St. Francis wrote that:

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive

It is in St. Francis's particular example that I understand that Bhakti is not exclusive to any one path or faith. Bhakti means devotion, love, surrender to the will of God. My own understanding of it as a practicing Hindu helps me to see its reality as the foundation of my Christian heritage as well.
As I pray and meditate and call God's names, it takes me into the memory of the examples before me, of my great-aunt chanting the rosary with daily and deep devotion in the living room of my childhood home, and of my grandfather taking to the Detroit airwaves in his youth to say the rosary as well.

These connections, sacred and sustaining to me, is where I really feel I have become a better Christian through my Hindu practice. It has allowed me to honor a desire in my family to carry forward a torch of devotion to God that transcends any cultural boundaries or differences.

Without the grace and knowledge I have received in my practice and life as a Hindu minister, I would not be able to approach my heritage as a Christian in such a meaningful way. This reality leaves me with a grateful heart, and a desire to go deeper into this harmony, to honor where I have come from, where I am now, and where I am meant to go.

My debut piece at the Huffington Post

I recently took a pilgrimage to Corpus Christi Church on 121st Street off of Broadway, here in New York City. This is where Thomas Merton, the great Catholic monk/mystic/author, was baptized, formally beginning a spiritual journey which has captivated and inspired millions of truth-seekers over the past few generations, myself included.

It was a special enough moment to be there, but a certain deeper resonance came as I stepped back out into the street, as I suddenly saw my past, present and future all before me. My past, raised in the Catholic tradition by my family in Detroit, as represented by Corpus Christi Church and Merton, faced me in my present situation, as an aspiring Hindu minister in New York City. I turned to my left to see the potentiality of my future, as represented by Union Theological Seminary, where I am currently applying, and where I hope to find an experience to harmonize my spiritual aspirations with my concern to be a servant to create justice in the world.

I was reminded that we owe a tremendous debt to that which has shaped us, to those who have helped to form us. We can forget this so easily, when the cult of our own individuality oversteps its boundaries. I was once again reminded that what I appreciate most of all in my own spiritual journey is gaining a greater and more loving acceptance of where I have come from, from the sacred roots of my family.

The Catholic faith of my youth planted within me the seeds to seek the truth. Now the tables have turned, as my experience of the incredible vistas of Hindu theology and practice has turned a shining light back to where I was before. In fact, I see that where I was before is very much the same as I am now. My Hindu faith has made me a better Christian.

Even as a child, the stories and wisdom I received in church and in catechism spoke to me of a profound yet simple reality: God is a person who knows and loves me dearly and deeply, and that I am also a person who can return that love in a very personal and unique way.

As I began to study the great Bhagavad-Gita, I found out that my seemingly childish impression of a personal and loving God was not actually so. It was steeped in the deepest truth. The theology of the Gita is immense and all-inclusive. The reality of the Divine is explained in three ways: God is His all-pervasive, transpersonal essence, the guide or conscience within our heart, and also a distinct individual. It is His unique personal feature which the Gita describes as being the preeminent of these three aspects.

The Gita climaxes with this passage, in which Krishna, the original Personality of God as described in Hinduism, tells his friend Arjuna that:

Always think of Me, become My devotee, worship Me and offer your homage unto Me. Thus you will come to Me without fail. I promise you this because you are My very dear friend.

I remember hearing, as a child, that God was always with me, seeing what I was doing, understanding my heart. There was never a moment where I felt threatened by this. Instead, I simply felt like I had a dear friend who would always be with me, and who would always help me, and whom I felt I could love in return. As I entered into the Bhakti faith I began to experience this simple reality in all its depth.
The path of Bhakti which I follow is a system of connection, or yoga, with God, based on the idea of loving, devotional service. Real devotional service is the giving of one's body, mind, and words to the service of God. In the Bhakti-rasamrta-sindhu, a classical 16th century devotional treatise, we read that:

"When first-class devotional service develops, one must be devoid of all material desires, knowledge obtained by monistic philosophy, and fruitive action. The devotee must constantly serve Kṛṣṇa favorably, as Kṛṣṇa desires."

The Hindu diaspora is filled with examples of such fidelity, including A.C Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, who braved the rigors of old age to bring the Bhakti tradition to the West at the age of 70 in 1965. In my exploration of my Christian roots, I come across the same mood in St. Francis of Assisi, who understood very deeply that to truly serve means to be an instrument of God. St. Francis wrote that:

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive

It is in St. Francis's particular example that I understand that Bhakti is not exclusive to any one path or faith. Bhakti means devotion, love, surrender to the will of God. My own understanding of it as a practicing Hindu helps me to see its reality as the foundation of my Christian heritage as well.
As I pray and meditate and call God's names, it takes me into the memory of the examples before me, of my great-aunt chanting the rosary with daily and deep devotion in the living room of my childhood home, and of my grandfather taking to the Detroit airwaves in his youth to say the rosary as well.

These connections, sacred and sustaining to me, is where I really feel I have become a better Christian through my Hindu practice. It has allowed me to honor a desire in my family to carry forward a torch of devotion to God that transcends any cultural boundaries or differences.

Without the grace and knowledge I have received in my practice and life as a Hindu minister, I would not be able to approach my heritage as a Christian in such a meaningful way. This reality leaves me with a grateful heart, and a desire to go deeper into this harmony, to honor where I have come from, where I am now, and where I am meant to go.

Madhava is practicing his commands with the help of ox teamster in training Dhananjaya.

Madhava is practicing his commands with the help of ox teamster in training Dhananjaya.

Download: 2011-08-13 - Toronto 24hr Kirtan - 19 - Gopal Krishna das.mp3

I couldn’t stop myself from snapping these yoginis in Topshop’s Regent Street store today. The music was thumping over the sound system and throngs of girls with rainbow nails and Navajo leggings milled around, marvelling at mountains of costume jewelry, vintage hats and cupcakes. These meditating mannequins looked so strikingly peaceful in the midst of it all – and I couldn’t help but wonder what thought lay behind the choice of their unusual pose.

Yoga and meditation are certainly more commonplace than ever these days – anyone that buys into the commercial hype surrounding yoga in the West is still likely to be exposed to some level of authentic tradition. Then again, maybe this was just a pretty pose – or could it be a sign of imminent spiritual revolution?

I couldn’t stop myself from snapping these yoginis in Topshop’s Regent Street store today. The music was thumping over the sound system and throngs of girls with rainbow nails and Navajo leggings milled around, marvelling at mountains of costume jewelry, vintage hats and cupcakes. These meditating mannequins looked so strikingly peaceful in the midst of it all – and I couldn’t help but wonder what thought lay behind the choice of their unusual pose.

Yoga and meditation are certainly more commonplace than ever these days – anyone that buys into the commercial hype surrounding yoga in the West is still likely to be exposed to some level of authentic tradition. Then again, maybe this was just a pretty pose – or could it be a sign of imminent spiritual revolution?

A quiet moment with Madhava, a 2000 pound ox.

A quiet moment with Madhava, a 2000 pound ox.

Download: 2011-08-13 - Toronto 24hr Kirtan - 18 - Jagannath das.mp3

The first day the cows at ISCOWP farm were let out on pasture. What Joy!

The first day the cows at ISCOWP farm were let out on pasture. What Joy!

Download: 2011-08-13 - Toronto 24hr Kirtan - 17 - Vijay Krishna das.mp3