Some thoughts on discussions of polygamy

Recent events in Texas have some Hare Krishna devotees blogging about polygamy. I engaged in a brief discussion of how devotees discuss this sensitive issue a few years ago, and put together a synthesis of those articles for another devotee friend's blog a year or two ago. I thought this might be a way to revive this blog. I'm not sure how relevant anyone who happens on this page will find this. We'll see . .

Regarding the topic itself, I think that thorough study of Srila Prabhupada’s discussion of polygamy will show that, although he felt it was an important part of ideal Vedic culture, his consideration of time, place, and circumstance led to the conclusion that it was undesirable in the modern Krishna consciousness movement. My own opinion of polygamy in our time is very close to what Srila Bhaktivinoda Thakura wrote in 1857: “Polygamy is the bane of native [Indian] society—a curse that enslaves many of the softer sex. The Kulina Brahmins are inseparable companions of polygamy. In their society it is as firmly advocated as is American slavery in the Southern States. The Kulina women are no better off than the African blacks. But an African black has many advocates around: he has a voice in the ‘Anti-Slavery League,’ whilst a Kulina Brahmini has no zealous friend to tell of her sorrows and relieve them. The legislature ought to hear the cries of the people as far as their interest is concerned. Reform in everything is sought for and as the first movement we desire the removal of polygamy by an enactment.”

Some years ago one of my Godbrothers, who has made a name for himself as an advocate of polygamy, wrote a critique of a Godsister’s complaints about the practice of polygamy among devotees. I wrote a very short response, called “Lord Ramachandra’s Example,” noting that his article, like most advocacy of this practice, seemed to miss one important source: a verse and purport in the Ninth Canto of Srimad-Bhagavatam. Chapter 10, verse 54 says, “Lord Ramacandra took a vow to accept only one wife and have no connection with any other women. He was a saintly king, and everything in His life was good, untinged by qualities like anger. He taught good behavior for everyone, especially for the householders, in terms of varnasrama-dharma. Thus He taught the general public by His personal activities.”

In his purport, Srila Prabhupada explains this further: “Eka-patni-vrata, accepting only one wife, was the glorious example set by Lord Ramacandra. One should not accept more than one wife. In those days, of course, people did marry more than one wife. Even Lord Ramacandra’s father accepted more wives than one. But Lord Ramacandra, as an ideal king, accepted only one wife, mother Sita. When Mother Sita was kidnapped by Ravana and the Raksasas, Lord Ramacandra, as the Supreme Personality of Godhead, could have married hundreds and thousands of Sitas, but to teach us how to be faithful He was to His wife, He fought with Ravana and finally killed him. The Lord punished Ravana and rescued His wife to instruct men to have only one wife. Lord Ramacandra accepted only one wife and manifested sublime character, thus setting an example for householders. A householder should live according to the ideal of Lord Ramacandra, who showed how to be a perfect person.”

I pointed out that this purport makes abundantly clear Srila Prabhupada’s desire that we establish daivi-varnasrama-dharma by marrying only one wife and remaining faithful to her throughout our lives. Since My Godbrother invests much in dates, let’s note that this volume was published in 1977. My Godbrother’s research shows that, in the abstract, we should have little objection to the kind of polygamy practiced by men with qualifications similar to King Dasarath. We should also note, however, that even Dasarath’s household was not perfectly peaceful. If men less qualified than he try to care for more than one wife, we can expect just the sorts of problems we have experienced over the years.

In fact, our godbrothers’ attempts at “polygamy” were really meant for increasing their sense gratification, regardless of their attempts to rationalize their behavior. I know of no such arrangements in which the “wives” were all equally satisfied with the results over the long run. In the conversation my Godbrother cites as Srila Prabhupada’s “last and final instruction on the matter,” Srila Prabhupada says another wife would be allowed “[i]f the woman allows husband.” He imposed the same restriction on acceptance of the sannyasa ashram by his married disciples. This shows the wife’s importance in the family and underscores Srila Prabhupada’s assertion that both husband and wife should be faithful.

In trying to introduce spiritual culture to the world, we need to be bold, as Srila Prabhupada showed by his own example. We must also be humble and honest enough to acknowledge the limits of our actual understanding of varanasrama’s cultural manifestations, as well as the limits of our understanding of Srila Prabhupada’s desires. Otherwise, we risk minimizing his significance and missing the richness of genuine spiritual culture.

When this Godbrother wrote a nine-page reply entitled, Lord Krishna’s Example: Giving Shelter to 16,108 Wives,” I wrote what follows:

I have no intention of becoming embroiled in a tit-for-tat argument with my Godbrother about the propriety of polygamy; however, I do want to respond to a few problems I found in his reply to my article, “Lord Ramachandra’s Example.”

First, it should be clear to anyone who reads my article carefully that it does not disparage polygamy, either as a principle or in its correct practice. It argues for nothing other than careful consideration in argument. That’s all. In the article to which I responded, my Godbrother simply ignored any views other than his own. As I have taught over 6,000 college students, any successful argument must take into consideration other sides of an issue, including any questions or objections that may be raised. My Godbrother’s didn’t, and I simply wanted to point out that if we intend to include polygamy in our understanding of establishing varnashrama-dharma, we should do so carefully. “We must also be humble enough to acknowledge the limits of our actual understanding,” is what I actually said. I stand fast by my advocacy of humility.

Further, anyone who reads my article can also see that nowhere in it do I attack my Godbrother’s character or his motives for repeating Srila Prabhupada’s words. I met my Godbrother when he lived in Los Angeles and Three Rivers, and never had any impression of him except that he is a serious, sincere devotee. And since an interlocutor’s character is an important element of classical rhetoric, maybe I should mention my own track record: I have been a faithful disciple since early 1970 and a faithful husband to my wife for 33 years. Ask anyone who knows me.

Since my Godbrother finds it appropriate, however, to question my motives, let me deal with that section of his recent article first. He asks, “Are you trying to create a generation of young prostitutes so you can enjoy them?” Not at all. I’m strictly monogamous, and at 58 I’m done with sex and headed in the other direction. I’m probably more upset than my Godbrother is that so many of our devotees’ daughters aren’t properly situated; many of them were my students. Moreover, as far as I know, no one has ever before suggested such a flaw in my character. I find it insulting to Srila Prabhupada, to my vaishnavi wife, and to my godbrothers’ daughters. More to my point, though, such character attack, although it’s certainly his prerogative to indulge in it, weakens my Godbrother’s argument.

Early in his second article, my Godbrother misstated my comments. Regarding the June 28, 1977 conversation, my Godbrother wrote I’m “reading things that just aren’t there and putting words in SP’s mouth that he didn’t say.” This is simply not true. Even in his quotation in this most recent article, right where he tries to prove I’m making things up, Srila Prabhupada says, “If the woman allows husband, ‘He likes.’ . . .” I didn’t say this; Srila Prabhupada did. His main point here is, as My Godbrother points out, that a chaste wife who is properly protected ought not to object. But Srila Prabhupada does say that a second wife would be permitted “If the woman allows.” My Godbrother says, “I only read that SP says the wife must not mind very much if her husband takes more than one wife.” Then read it again, more carefully this time, prabhu, because you seem to have missed a sentence. “If woman allows.” One more time—those are not my words, but Srila Prabhupada’s own. My Godbrother should read his own article more carefully, or at least be careful enough to edit out what he doesn’t want us to see.

He says I claim the Ninth Canto purport says “that Srila Prabhupada does NOT want us to take more than one wife.” That is just not what I write there. What I do say is that it expresses his desire that his male disciples accept only one wife and remain faithful to her.

He claims that I see this verse “as some sort of absolute dictum that is so strong and powerful that it totally overpowers and over shadows [sic]” all instructions that favor polygamy. But that’s not what I say, either. Nowhere do I even imply that it nullifies any other instruction. One could make a case that instructions in Srila Prabhupada’s books should carry more weight than comments made in his room, on a walk, or even in a letter. I read a letter to a godbrother named Sadhanananda in which Srila Prabhupada wrote that devotees say, “Srila Prabhupada has said this, or said that.” This is another form of cheating, he said. “If it is not in my books,” he wrote, “I did not say it.” I won’t make such a case. I will, however, present some of Srila Prabhupada’s instructions in the matter, from his books and other sources, to show that this is not an isolated statement that runs counter to his real desire.

In the purport to SB 4.26.4, Srila Prabhupada writes, “One should be satisfied with his married wife, for even a slight deviation will create havoc.” Then he continues, “A Krishna conscious grihastha should always remember this. He should always be satisfied with one wife and be peaceful simply by chanting the Hare Krishna mantra.” In a 1972 Bhagavatam lecture in Los Angeles, he said, “So to become Krishna conscious means immediately--that is the test--immediately he will become free from lust and greediness. If he's not free from lust and greediness, he is making a show; he's not Krishna conscious. This is the test. If one is actually advanced in Krishna consciousness, then these two symptoms will be visible in his character: no more lusty, no more greediness. He should be satisfied with one wife or one husband. Why hankering after others? That is lusty. That means it is not on the stage of Krishna consciousness; it is in the material platform.” In a 1974 Bhagavatam class, he said, “a person should be so nicely trained up that the one wife with religious, by performing religious ceremony, is given to him, he should be satisfied with her, not to see other women, adulteration. This is Kali-yuga.” In 1975 he told us, “If anyone can maintain a family--family means one wife and one or two children--then he is to be considered very expert, successful,” and in 1976 he said, “Tapasya begins with brahmacarya, life of celibacy, or accepting one wife only. That's all.” Years before, in 1971 he said, “We recommend our students not to have illicit sex. We don't stop sex, but regulate. . . . What is the difficulty? No illicit sex means don't be cats and dogs. Be married man and have one wife, one husband, and be satisfied.”

In 1974, he wrote Sukadeva prabhu, “No, devotees are not allowed more than one wife. Devotees should have no wife if possible, but those who cannot maintain celibacy, they can marry one wife. At the present moment people are so unfortunate they cannot maintain even one wife. First of all at the present moment they are not married and remain mostly unmarried. So for such persons even one wife is a great burden. Under the circumstances how one can think of more than one wife? This is stupidity.” There are more, but this just shows that, although I don’t claim this one purport supersedes all others, it is also not an isolated instruction.

My Godbrother objects to my saying that his research shows that, “in the abstract, we should have little objection” polygamy practiced by men as qualified as Dasharath. He’s particularly upset by “little objection” and suggests we should have “NO” objection. He also doesn’t like “in the abstract.” I agree. I’m happy to change it to “In principle, we should have no objection to the kind of polygamy practiced by men with qualifications similar to King Dasharath’s.” Despite my Godbrother’s cleverness, I have no desire to obstruct our understanding of varnashrama-dharma, but to encourage careful understanding and even more careful application.

At one point, my Godbrother concedes that, so far, experiments with polygamy have failed. Then he suggests that “most” monogamous marriages have failed as well, so perhaps we should give up on marriage altogether and just couple like animals. I’m sorry he wasted any of his time energy, and space on this unfortunate point. This is a clear case of the logical fallacy called argumentum ad absurdum.

Although my Godbrother claims that polygamy is not meant for increasing sex life, Srila Prabhupada seems to have another opinion. In a 1973 letter to Rupanuga, he wrote, “After conferring with my various GBC representatives I have concluded that polygamy must be strictly prohibited in our society. Although it is a Vedic institution still there are so many legal implications. Neither are many of our men fixed up enough to tend for more than one wife. Polygamy will simply increase the sex life and our philosophy is to gradually decrease the sex life till eventually there is no sex life.” Of course polygamy is ideally meant for protecting women. But that’s not its only purpose, as we see in a Srimad-Bhagavatam purport: “A man is allowed to keep more than one wife because he cannot enjoy sex when the wife is pregnant. If he wants to enjoy sex at such a time, he may go to another wife who is not pregnant. These are laws mentioned in the Manu-samhita and other scriptures” (SB4.26.4, purport). And in a Bhagavatam class, he said, “According to Vedic civilization, because man is very aggressive, so he's allowed to accept more than one wife.”

Finally, my Godbrother invokes examples different from Lord Ramachandra’s that he seems to think Srila Prabhupada wanted us to follow. Bhima, Arjuna, and other devotees, he points out, had more than one wife. Of course, they were rich kings and perfect devotees. Lord Nityananda had more than one wife, my Godbrother says. Maybe, but the example of Nityananda Prabhu’s Srila Prabhupada wants us to follow is his compassion and tireless preaching of the holy names, not his disregard for social conventions. Even Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu, he says, ignored Lord Rama’s example by remarrying after his first wife’s passing. In fact, He did, but only at the insistence of his widowed mother. He also left that wife at age 24 to go preach all over India.

Ultimately, as evidenced by my Godbrother’s title, he suggests we follow the example of Lord Krishna, who had 16,108 wives. However, when Srila Prabhupada discusses the Lord’s household, he doesn’t suggest it as a model for ours, except that, despite lying comfortably next to our wives, we should rise early in the morning, bathe and meditate on Krishna. Instead, Srila Prabhupada points out that Krishna accepted 16,108 wives to demonstrate His opulence as the full-fledged Personality of Godhead. This is one way Krishna shows He is not one of us!

Once more, in case it’s not clear to some, I’m not writing specifically to oppose polygamy. I’m really suggesting that we discuss the issue fully and apply it carefully. In fact, I expect this to be my last article on the subject. I’m much more interested in how we discuss it than in whether anyone has more wives than I. Neither do I suggest that anyone with an opinion different from mine is an atheist or infected with sinful desires of some sort. I only advocate careful and civil discourse among devotees, especially in public.

Perhaps we should follow Srila Prabhupada’s example. If necessary, marry one wife or husband, conduct our home lives according to the instructions of our spiritual master, gradually give up all material endeavor and sense gratification, and immerse ourselves in distributing prasadam, protecting cows, and chanting and broadcasting the glories of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu’s sankirtan movement. After all, Narada Muni testifies that “those who are always full of cares and anxieties due to desiring contact of the senses with their objects can cross the ocean of nescience on a most suitable boat—the constant chanting of the transcendental activities of the Personality of Godhead.”

The Path is the Goal

My main project now is çaraëägati, the way of taking shelter of the Lord. I mean this in (at least) two senses: I'm engaged in a writing project focused on çaraëägati,and my prime task in life is putting çaraëägati into action. In the introductory song to his Çaraëägati, Srila Bhaktivinoda Thakura calls taking full shelter of Krishna, also sometimes called surrender, çaraëägati or prapatti, the life of the devotees. He writes,

çré-kåñëa-caitanya prabhu jéve doyä kori
swa-pärñada swéya dhäma saha avatari

Çré Kåñëa Caitanya Prabhu descended from the eternal spiritual world along with His personal associates and divine abode, incarnating in this temporary material world out of compassion for the fallen souls.

atyanta durlabha prema koribäre däna
çikhäya çaraëägati bhakatera präna

In order to freely distribute the gift of ecstatic love of God, which is very difficult to obtain, He taught the path of çaraëägati, devotional surrender to the Supreme Lord. This çaraëägati is the very life of the true devotees.

dainya, ätma-nivedana, goptåtve varaëa
'avaçya rakñébe kåñëa'-viçväsa, pälana

bhakti-anuküla-mätra käryera svékara
bhakti-pratiküla-bhäva varjanäìgikära

The six ways of surrender through çaraëägati are (1) dainya-humility, (2) ätma-nivedana-dedication of the self, (3) goptåtve varaëa-acceptance of the Lord as one's only maintainer, (4) the consciousness of 'avaçya rakñibe kåñëa'-'Kåñëa will surely protect me'-which is viçväsa (faith) in Kåñëa's pälana (protection), (5) bhakti-anuküla-mätra käryera svékara-execution of only those acts favorable to pure devotion, and (6) bhakti-pratiküla-bhäva varjanäìgikära-renunciation of conduct adverse to pure devotion.

ñaò-aìga çaraëägati hoibe jähära
tähära prärthanä çune çré-nanda-kumära

Çré Nanda-Kumära, the youthful son of Nanda Mahäräja, hears the prayers of anyone who takes refuge in Him by this six-fold practice of surrender.

rüpa-sanätana-pade dante tåëa kori
bhakativinoda poòe duhuì pada dhori

Bhaktivinoda prostrates himself at the feet of Çré Rüpa and Çré Sanätana Goswämé, places a straw between his teeth, and clasps their lotus feet with his hands.

käìdiyä käìdiyä bole ämi to' adhama
çikhäye çaraëägati koro he uttama

Weeping and weeping, he tells them, "I am certainly the lowest of men! Oh please make me the worthiest by teaching me the ways of çaraëägati!"

It's likely that the writing will appear here and other places as it develops. The life work is manifesting now.

Due to a confluence of events that seems providential, my wife and I are leaving our home here in Puna on the Big Island of Hawaii. Satyaki has accepted a post teaching at the devotional school in ISKCON community in Alachua, Florida. I will go with her; however, my own surrender will soon take me other places, to a life of what Srila Sridhar Maharaja calls "deep engagement in responsible service." I'll post more about that later.

How Krishna Consciousness Came into My Life, Pt. 2

Here's a draft of the rest of my story.

The next day, I went to the place where I had recently quit working to collect a paycheck I had coming, so I could buy my own copy of Bhagavad-gita As It Is. I also started attending the Bhagavad-gita classes held three nights a week at the temple. I remember still having difficulty dealing with the fact that this spiritual treatise was spoken on a battlefield, with the Lord exhorting His friend to fight—against his relatives, friends, and teachers! I asked about it three meetings in a row. The temple president, Gaurasundar das, was very patient with me, explaining painstakingly the difference between spirit and matter, the body and the soul, and apparent nonviolence and real nonviolence. After three times, the concepts began to sink in, and I was hooked.

On the alternate nights, I found myself in Waikiki, a member of the temple’s sankirtan party. During the day, I would walk from my apartment near Diamond Head up to the temple to help with the gardening duties. In particular, I was eager to help with the mango trees. The devotees had told me that their spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada, had declared the mango king of fruits and promised to visit Honolulu when mango season came. After a couple of weeks, it became clear that I was spending more time with the devotees than with my other friends. My interests had changed drastically in a very short time: less surfing, more serving. I began discussing the possibility of moving into the temple for more intense study and spiritual practice with my friends. Some were adamantly opposed, convinced that, although I was one of them, I was becoming brainwashed by all the chanting. Others suggested that, although it could be a big adventure, monastic life wasn’t for everyone. After some vacillation, I went down to the beach one day to sell my surfboard so I could pay my share of the rent for the month at my old apartment. Then I packed my few belongings and walked up to Manoa Valley to begin this adventure.

At the time, I didn’t think of myself as a devotee, or as a disciple of Srila Prabhupada’s. For some time, even after moving into the temple, I referred to Srila Prabhupada as “your spiritual master” in my conversations with the seven devotees that comprised ISKCON Hawaii at the time. My idea was that I would try to develop an understanding of Krishna consciousness and share it with those with whom I associated. However, as I chanted regularly, spent anywhere from four to eight hours a day chanting on the streets of Honolulu, and studied Bhagavad-gita and Srimad-Bhagavatam, my relationship with Krishna consciousness began to change in ways that even I could recognize. I began to see that it was much more than just a very appealing personal philosophy. I can still remember a few particular passages from the first canto of Srimad-Bhagavatam that initiated drastic changes in my appreciation for the Bhagavatam’s ideals. One is in the purport, or commentary, on the second verse. The verse explains that Srimad-Bhagavatam has nothing at all to do with any religious concept less than pure love of God:

Completely rejecting all religious activities which are materially motivated, this Bhagavata Purana propounds the highest truth, which is understandable by those devotees who are fully pure in heart. The highest truth is reality distinguished from illusion for the welfare of all. Such truth uproots the threefold miseries. This beautiful Bhagavatam, compiled by the great sage Vyasadeva [in his maturity], is sufficient in itself for God realization. What is the need of any other scripture? As soon as one attentively and submissively hears the message of Bhagavatam, by this culture of knowledge the Supreme Lord is established within his heart.

In his purport, or commentary, Srila Prabhupada discusses how all beings in the material world are engaged in a competitive struggle for dominance over others. Then he contrasts with this the attitude of pure devotees of Godhead:

But the devotees of the Lord rise above such competitions. They do not compete with the materialist because they are on the path back to Godhead where life is eternal and blissful. Such transcendentalists are nonenvious and pure in heart. In the material world, everyone is envious of everyone else, and therefore there is competition. But the transcendental devotees of the Lord are not only free from material envy, but are well-wishers to everyone, and they strive to establish a competitionless society with God in the center.

This was the most radical idea I think I had encountered at the time, in the real sense of the word: it went right to the root of all our problems, and it offered the perfect solution. This, it seemed to me, was everything!

As I got further into the first canto of Srimad-Bhagavatam, I found more statements in the verses and purports that showed me the profundity of Srila Prabhupada’s mission. In one such passage, Narada Muni, a great sage, explains the difference between mundane literature and transcendental literature to his disciple, Vyasadeva, the divine compiler of the Vedic literatures:

Those words which do not describe the glories of the Lord, who alone can sanctify the atmosphere of the whole universe, are considered by saintly persons to be like unto a place of pilgrimage for crows. Since the all-perfect persons are inhabitants of the transcendental abode, they do not derive any pleasure there.

On the other hand, that literature which is full of descriptions of the transcendental glories of the name, fame, forms, pastimes, etc., of the unlimited Supreme Lord is a different creation, full of transcendental words directed toward bringing about a revolution in the impious lives of this world's misdirected civilization. Such transcendental literatures, even though imperfectly composed, are heard, sung and accepted by purified men who are thoroughly honest.

I began to see that the Hare Krishna movement was not simply an exotic religion but a revolutionary movement. But this wasn’t the kind of revolution we had become accustomed to discussing in those days of social and political ferment. This, I was beginning to understand, was a revolution of the heart. I was interested in finding ways to change our culture. At the time, the most profound political influence in my life was Mohandas Gandhi. I had read pretty much every thing by and about him that I had been able to get my hands on. While I was still in the Navy, one of my friends had drawn a charcoal portrait of Gandhi that I displayed in my room in the barracks, and later in my apartment in Honolulu. I liked his idea of revolution based on nonviolent non-cooperation with evil. I found his search for Absolute Truth inspiring. I found his practice of observing celibacy, or brahmacharya, to re-channel his energy to effecting social change intriguing, if impossible for me. And I had been inspired by his faith in Bhagavad-gita to explore it myself. His approach to revolution, it seemed to me, was almost spiritual.

But this approach was completely spiritual. And the more I read, the more clearly I could see this, the more firmly I became convinced.

Later in the first canto, I read of Emperor Parikshit’s encounter with an abused bull. In the vision of the Vedic sages, the bull is Dharma, the personification of religious principles. At one point King Parikshit exclaims, “In the age of Satya [truthfulness] your four legs were established by the four principles of austerity, cleanliness, mercy and truthfulness. But it appears that three of your legs are broken due to rampant irreligion in the form of pride, lust for women, and intoxication.” In his purport Srila Prabhupada explains that the Dharma, religion, had been abused by Kali, the personification of the age in which we live, characterized by hypocrisy and quarrel. The pillars on which this age is built are destructive habits such as gambling, intoxication, unrestricted pursuit of sexual gratification, and meat eating. The antidote suggested here is a culture based on simplicity, cleanliness, mercy, and truthfulness. Now that was truly revolutionary, at least in my experience! And a little earlier, I had found the essential antidote for the influence of this age of discord. If we can make arrangements, Srila Prabhupada says, “for the constant chanting of the holy names, qualities, etc., of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, there is no chance at all” for Kali’s influence to increase the downward spiral of modern society. And Srila Prabhupada recommends using even modern technology for widely broadcasting the holy names of Krishna, as well as Krishna’s teachings. That was it. I was convinced that I had found the real revolution and that I had to dedicate my life to helping effect that revolution. I would somehow become Srila Prabhupada’s disciple and an instrument in his life’s work.

That determination was further solidified when Srila Prabhupada visited Honolulu in August of 1970. When I first saw him, my heart leapt, and I knew without any doubt that I had found my eternal teacher and that I could approach him without any reservation. When I did physically approach him to offer a flower lei and offer the common gesture of obeisance by bowing down to the ground, I inexplicably found myself so overwhelmed with spiritual emotion that I sobbed uncontrollably, unable to offer the prayers of dedication a disciple likes to make. Later, as we walked from the airport lobby to the car that awaited him, I held an umbrella over his head (yes, even inside the airport), he stopped for a moment and smiled broadly as he looked into my eyes. I felt as though he had accepted me as I had accepted him. I felt irrevocably committed to the spiritual revolution that is Lord Chaitanya Mahaprabhu’s sankirtana movement and have never looked back.

Thinking about Srila Prabhupada

I heard a disturbing--but not surprising--story about an offering written by one of my Godbrothers for this year's Vyasa-puja book, which commemorates the appearance of our spritual master, His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. This got me thinking about my own offering for this year, which in turn made me think about posting some of my past offerings here. This one was written on behalf of the San Diego, California ISKCON center in 1994.

nama oṁ viṣṇu-pādāya kṛṣṇa-preṣṭhāya bhū-tale
śrīmate bhaktivedānta-svāmin iti nāmine

namas te sārasvate deve gaura-vāṇī-pracāriṇe
nirviśeṣa-śūnyavādi-pāścātya-deśa-tāriṇe

śrīla prabhupāda dayā karaha vicāra
vicāra karile citte pābe camatkāra

Anyone interested in logic and argument should apply them to the mercy of His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda! If they do so they will find it strikingly wonderful.

For more lives than anyone can count, we have
worked hard at becoming the most fallen of souls,
Our hallmarks, our pride: ignorance, misfortune, and sin.
We have majored in forgetting Kṛṣṇa, doing extra coursework
in denying our eternal relationship with the Lord.
Our own bodies, born and bred in Kali-yuga,
serve as our diplomas: Fool Number One,
devoid of any grace.

But Lord Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Thief;
He has stolen our misfortune by
sending Your Divine Grace, His personal envoy,
to show the folly of our self-imposed exile.
You have changed our lives by demonstrating
pure devotional service to Kṛṣṇa, conceivable to us only
by Your Divine Grace.

The matchless gift, which
immediately relieves all material distress,
opens the way to the best of fortune,
bestows transcendental happiness,
is rarely achieved,
transcends even liberation,
and is the only way to attract Kṛṣṇa,
is available only at the lotus feet
of the pure spiritual master.
Anyone who wants any happiness must learn
bhakti from a bona fide guru,
making his word one’s life and soul.
Lord Caitanya shows this as the root
of the devotional creeper.
We can attain love for Kṛṣṇa
only by the spiritual master’s
divine grace.

Śrīla Prabhupāda, you are the supreme professor
of the science of devotional service.
Anyone who claims to know anything about Kṛṣṇa
must have heard it from you.
Any goodness found in the word in this age of anxiety and discord
is strictly due to your taking the word of your spiritual master
as life and soul, and showering us with
your causeless mercy.

The task of preaching is our legacy;
you left you mission incomplete
so we could spend our lives pursuing its fulfillment.
We are your limbs in this dark world, and
apart from you, our lives have no meaning;
apart from Your Divine Grace –
your causeless mercy – we have no life.

As we approach the Śrīla Prabhupāda Centennial year,
your helpless children – your “boys and girls”
(though boys and girls, perhaps, only in your eyes anymore),
those who came in the years of struggle,
the new counterculture kids who remind us
of ourselves not so long ago,
and the world’s great hope, the gurukula alumni,
who show us all how to remember Kṛṣṇa
everywhere and when –
pray to dedicate our work, words, and thoughts
to establishing your reputation as the universal teacher of pure devotion
so all may be attracted to your lotus feet
and receive your causeless mercy.

Just as we get water from the earth by digging,
we hope to get one more drop of your mercy
by our service to your great mission.
That drop of mercy, we hope, will yield
humility, forbearance, compassion,
and freedom from personal ambition.
Only then will be fit to free
all fallen souls of Kali-yuga
from the ignorance and misfortune they so prize
and share the great treasure of
Your Divine Grace.

Another Haiku

Here's another haiku I wrote years ago, with a different mood from the poem I previously posted:

Hoof dust in the air,
The flute’s song is floating there;
Krishna’s coming home.

A Little Haiku

Once in a while I fiddle with different forms of poetry. I've written a few haiku, and I thought I'd share them here occasionally. Although haiku generally include a season word, I often use reference to other time, such as time of day. I thought I'd start with this one in the wake of the recent passing of my sister and four of my Godbrothers, all of whom were probably younger than I.

Orange and blue koi
Gliding under lily pads
Can't see the heron's near.

How Krishna Consciousness Came into My Life, Pt. 1

I have worked, off and on, on writing an account of the events that brought Krishna consciousness into my life. I'd like to offer here a draft of the first part of that article.

It was certainly not what anyone expected to happen that weekend. I had been in the Navy for almost three years and served as an intelligence analyst at the Pacific Fleet Intelligence Center at Pearl Harbor. Because of the security clearances necessary for my work, I generally avoided going to concerts such as this one. It seemed that attending a Grateful Dead concert, or a Jefferson Airplane concert at Honolulu’s Civic Auditorium during the late ‘60s would draw unwanted attention. But here it was, a full-moon night in May of 1969, and I couldn’t resist seeing the Jimi Hendrix Experience live at the Waikiki Shell. After the warm-up band played, Jimi came out and played a couple of numbers. Then he mumbled something about the sound system not being powerful enough for his music and said he’d be back in fifteen minutes.

After much more than fifteen minutes, one of the announcers from the local underground FM radio station, which promoted the concerts this weekend, announced that Jimi wouldn’t be able to play that night, but if we brought our ticket stubs on Sunday night, he’d perform for free. In the meantime, which might have been an hour or so, I heard a persistent sound from just outside the Shell: ching-ching-chiiiing, ching-ching-chiiiing, ching-ching-chiiiing, on and on. Sometimes it went faster, sometimes slower, but it never stopped during the entire break. As we left the Shell, what we found were perhaps the most exotic folks I had ever seen. There, under a large, rainbow-colored banner with the Hare Krishna mantra, were Govinda dasi, Sudama, Turiya das, and another young woman, playing karatals, a guitar, a rather exotic-looking drum, and chanting, “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.” As the crowd streamed out of the Shell, it gathered around the devotees, young people clapping, swaying, and chanting along. As I heard the mantra, I found it oddly familiar. Sure, I had heard the song from the tribal rock musical Hair on the radio, but this was different.

After some time, the crowd had grown so large that it blocked the exit, and the police asked everyone to move away. So Sudama and Turiya das led the crowd across the grass into Kapiolani Park as the full moon seemed to smile on the now-enormous sankirtan party of several thousand chanting, dancing people. The kirtan’s energy seemed to build, and I found myself completely carried away, even though I was a shy guy in the Navy, short hair and all. Unfortunately, the police eventually broke the crowd up and ordered everyone to disperse. But the experience had left an indelible impression on me. When we went to the concerts the next two nights, the devotees were there again, and I found myself chanting with much of the time.

A couple of months later I got out of the Navy, and I returned to Hawaii early in the fall of ’69, with the intention of taking some time for surfing and “finding myself” before returning to college. I would sometimes go to concerts at the Waikiki Shell, and sometimes we would go for a walk in the evening down Kalakaua Avenue, hoping to meet interesting people. Wherever I went, it seemed the devotees were there. I couldn’t deny my attraction to the chanting, but I actually saw that as somewhat dangerous. After having been in the Navy, I was wary of ever joining anything again. So I would stand just out of sight, or on the other side of the street, and chant along. One Saturday night, however, I had a surprise. As I left the center of Waikiki, I encountered a Hare Krishna monk on the other side of the street. It was Turiya das, one of the men I had chanted with the previous spring. We spoke for a few minutes, and when I left him he asked me to come to their Love Feast the next day at Queen’s Surf Park. I agreed, and we parted.

The next morning I remembered that I had promised the Krishna monk that I’d go to their feast. I thought I had better not break a promise made to a monk, so I decided I would indeed go. I had seen the devotees distributing food in the park on Sunday afternoons, but I kept my distance because I was worried about how strongly I felt drawn to the chanting. Besides, their food, although vegetarian, appeared cooked, and I was trying to get into a raw-foods diet. But this Sunday I had determined that I would go and that I would open myself entirely to the chanting to see what it does. I even thought I should forego all my bad late-‘60s indulgences that day so I could experience the chanting with a clear head.

So there I found myself on a warm, sunny, early-winter’s afternoon, sitting on the grass near the ocean in my Levi’s and t-shirt, my eyes closed, chanting the maha-mantra over and over. Later, as prasadam was being distributed, Turiya das sat down with me and started a conversation. When he asked if I had ever read Bhagavad-gita, I found I had an admission to make. While in the Navy I developed a strong interest in the politics and philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi. I had read every book by and about him I could find in Honolulu. I had also tried reading several editions of Bhagavad-gita because of Gandhi’s interest in that ancient scripture. But I had a hard time making any sense of Krishna’s philosophy, perhaps because it was being spoken on a battlefield, and I had left the Navy very inclined to a nonviolent life, after three years of analyzing aerial photography of the Vietnam war. However, I soon found there may have been a more profound reason for my trouble with Bhagavad-gita.

When I tried to explain my difficulty with the text, Turiya das handed me a copy of the blue, paperback Bhagavad-gita As It Is and asked if I had read this particular edition. Admitting I hadn’t, I spent several minutes leafing through, stopping to read a page here and there. As I read, I found the meaning quite clear and compelling. After a few minutes, I looked up at Turiya das and exclaimed, “This is not only easy to understand, but what I’ve read so far makes more sense to me than anything I’ve ever read!”

Turiya das smiled and replied, “If someone actually understands it, he can make it understandable to others, right?”

When I walked back to my apartment later that afternoon, I seemed to see the world differently than the day before. It’s not that I had a clearly defined new world view; things just seemed different, and I sensed a change shaping up in my life.

(To be continued)