Sunday Service Reading #13

JESUS CHRIST emphasized repeatedly the spirit, not the letter, of the law. In Chapter 5 of the Gospel of St. Matthew he speaks of the sin of killing, and of the legal punishment attendant on that sin, but says that more important than the act is the desire to kill, or to do harm. He shows that the sin of harmful desire goes beyond merely wanting to kill.

“My message to you,” he said, “is this: Whoever is angry with his brother without cause already stands condemned; whoever contemptuously calls his brother a fool shall answer for it to the Supreme Council; and whoever calls his brother an outcast of God shall be in danger of hellfire.”

“Brother,” here, means any other human being. For all of us in the highest sense are brothers and sisters—children of our one Father-Mother, God. The true self of one is the Self of all. To hurt another is, even if one doesn't realize it, to hurt oneself.

Swami Kriyananda in The Path recalls an episode in which the Master, Paramhansa Yogananda, revealed his sense of identity even with the plants. “One day,” Kriyananda wrote, “we were moving a delicate but rather heavy tropical plant into position on the hillside. Our handling evidently was too rough, for Master cried out, ‘Be careful what you are doing. Can't you feel? It's alive!'”

To wish death to anyone—to wish even harm to another creature—is to deny in oneself the reality of that divine life of which all of us are manifestations. It is, in short, to deny the eternal truth, proclaimed by the Bhagavad Gita in the second Chapter:

This Self is never born, nor does it perish. Once existing, it cannot ever cease to be. It is birthless, eternal, changeless, ever itself. It is not slain when the body is slain.

VIDEO of Jyotish and Devi's Service on this Subject from 4-11-10

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Jyotish and Devi's Service on this Subject from 4-11-10

VIDEO of Ananta's Service on this Subject from 4-11-10

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Ananta's Service on this Subject from 4-11-10 (not available)

VIDEO of Asha's Service on this Subject from 3-29-09

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Asha Praver's Service on this Subject from 3-29-09

VIDEO of Bharat's Service on this Subject from 3-29-09

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Bharat's Service on this Subject from 3-29-09

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Jyotish's Service on this Subject from 4-13-08

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Asha's Service on this Subject from 4-13-08

Long Readings from the 3 Volume Set:
Rays of the Same Light

#13 Deeds Vs Intentions
("Imperfection Is of the Ego; Perfection, of the Soul" in the original book)

Bible

Living in God's Love

This passage is from the Gospel of St. Matthew, Chapter 5, the 21st and 22nd Verses:

"You have heard that our forefathers were told, 'Thou shalt not kill'; and again, ÈWhoever kills shall be subject to condemnation.' But my message to you is this: Whoever is angry with his brother without cause already stands condemned; whoever contemptuously calls his brother a fool shall answer for it to the Supreme Council; and whoever calls his brother an outcast of God shall be in danger of hellfire."

There are many forms of murder. Killing the body is only the most visible form. But to kill a person's belief in himself, or — even worse — to destroy his faith in God: This is a much more insidious form of murder, and one far more hateful in the eyes of God.

Many self-proclaimed believers imagine that the Lord is pleased with them when they self-righteously condemn others as sinners and spiritual outcasts. Jesus, however, forever offered hope even to the worst of sinners. He emphasized not the darkness of their sin, but their eternal potential, as children of God, to return to the light.

In the famous story of the woman taken in adultery, he told her simply, "Go, and sin no more."

Worse than physical murder, which denies another person's right to live, is the sin of suicide, which denies life itself. Worse, again, than the condemnation of others as sinful is to condemn oneself as a sinner. For by condemning oneself, one denies the very saving power of grace. As Paramhansa Yogananda used to say, "The worst sin is to call yourself a sinner!"

There is the story of an occasion when Yogananda attended a Gospel "revival" meeting. At a certain point in the proceedings, the preacher shouted at his congregation, "You are all sinners: Get down on your knees!" Yogananda remarked later, "I looked around me, and found I was the only one who wasn't kneeling! I wouldn't join them, because I wouldn't accept that I was a sinner."

It is an irony of human nature that, in our judgment of others, we judge ourselves. If we hate weakness in others, it is because there exists in ourselves, too, some weakness of which we are ashamed. If we hate others for their pride, it is because on some level our own pride gives us discomfort. And if we condemn others as sinners, it is because, somewhere deep within us, we fear that we, too, may not be living in God's grace.

From love for God, faith is born. Charity towards others nurtures love for God. If we judge others kindly, we will feel God's kindliness and grace in our own hearts. Jesus put it beautifully in the beatitude: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."

To live close to God, we must see Him as our loving Father, never as a wrathful Judge. He is our very own. The approach to Him is, for everyone who awakens in Him, an act of recognition. The prodigal son returns at last to his divine home, where alone he has ever belonged.

Live, therefore, in God's love. He will guide you on the path of righteousness, until you achieve final union with Him.

Bhagavad Gita

Live at Your Divine Center

"This Self is never born, nor does it perish. Once existing, it cannot ever cease to be. It is birthless, eternal, changeless, ever itself. It is not slain when the body is killed."

The Self here referred to, obviously, is not that self which one sees every morning in the mirror while combing his hair! Man tends to confuse his human body and personality with deeper realities of his being. Immortality, for many believers, means living through all eternity as essentially the same person: holier than now, perhaps, but with the ego and personality, and even the body, more or less intact. Joe Green exalted in heavenly glory is imagined as Joe Green wearing a big smile, as he wanders endlessly through green pastures playing a harp of gold.

In the Bible we find an instructive episode: "Then there arose a dispute among [the disciples] as to which of them was the greatest. Jesus, knowing what was passing in their minds, took a child and stood him at his side. ÈWhoever receives this child in my name,' he said, Èreceives me. And whoever receives me receives the One who sent me. For whoever is least among all of you is the greatest.'" (Luke 9:46-48)

In another Bible passage, St. John the Baptist says of Christ: "He must increase, but I must decrease." (John 3:30) Understood in its deepest sense, as St. John's Gospel always needs to be understood, the meaning here, clearly, is this: "To live in spiritual perfection, the Christ consciousness in us must increase; but it can do so only to the extent that the ego decreases in importance for us."

When we read in the Scriptures of the soul's divine potential as a child of God, we must understand that this high promise altogether excludes the ego. The ego is a role assumed only temporarily by the soul. It is the soul, as Paramhansa Yogananda defined it, attached to the body.

To know God, we must abandon the last vestiges of ego-consciousness. As Jesus put it in Luke 17:33, "Whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life shall save it, and live." The eternal life promised to mankind in the Scriptures is that of eternal joy in God. This divine life he cannot have so long as he clings to his little ego, like a drowning man to a straw.

To achieve the greater, he must be willing to relinquish the lesser. Such, indeed, is the prerequisite for even normal, worldly success.

The body undergoes life's normal changes; and yet, inwardly, one remains the same person. One acquires new attributes of personality, yet there remains within him a center of self-awareness that doesn't change with the personality. We define ourselves in terms of appearances, yet on analysis, we see that these definitions are false, because fleeting. Like peeling an onion, if one by one we strip away such definitions, what do we have left in the end? Nothing! That is to say, no thing: nothing solid; nothing definable in any limiting terms.

What is left is that Self which is never born, which never perishes, which remains forever changeless, forever itself. Weapons cannot destroy it, though they destroy the body. Death cannot destroy it, though it destroy the brain. The Self is behind the brain, using it as one uses a computer. The Self cannot ever be affected.

Know that that, eternally, is what you are. Sri Krishna, in this passage of the Bhagavad Gita, is telling us to live ever more deeply at our divine center within, and not to define ourselves superficially, which is to say, in any outward context. We are not sinners. We are not the greater for any human virtue. Again and again in the Scriptures we find the admonition to attribute all glory to God, and to realize that in Him alone can we have our own glory.

Longest Reading from the Book
The Promise of Immortality

#13 Deeds vs. Intentions
("Imperfection Is of the Ego; Perfection, is of the Soul" in the original book)

IN THIS FINAL CHAPTER OF THE SECTION, “The Instruments of Recognition,” that instrument should be considered which is most central to human understanding: the ego. Paramhansa Yogananda defined the ego as “the soul attached to the body.” We’ve been persuaded by ancient habit, through this ego attachment of the soul, that this ego is our very self. Yet some instinct never ceases to hint to us that the ego is as much of a hindrance to us as an incentive in our spiritual development.

Here, for example, is the kind of hint the soul gives: Most people consider boastfulness distasteful, at least when others are doing the boasting! Why? Doesn’t almost everybody want to excel at something? Is it only envy, then, that arouses a negative reaction in people when others brag, “I’m the greatest!”? Envy may be some people’s motivation, particularly if the distaste they feel is strong, but envy is not everyone’s motivation. For the offense is not only to the ego. Often, indeed, it is when one’s own ego is least involved that he notices the disparity between what a braggart reveals of himself and what he might be, were he less involved in himself. To observe a flaw in someone else is not necessarily a judgment on him. Rather than increasing a person’s importance in others’ eyes, boastfulness only diminishes it. Thus, the distaste one feels for bragging may be more particularly a sense of embarrassment for the braggart.

But, again, why even embarrassment? Because, even granting that the ego likes occasionally to preen itself, if one tries too persistently to draw attention to himself he only betrays how narrow his own horizons are. Boastfulness is not only self-limiting: It is self-suffocating.

We all know intuitively that the ego is not something one should revel in. Growing emotional maturity tells us that there are other enjoyments in life: radiant sunsets, beautiful gardens, expansive vistas, and wonderful adventures into the unknown. There are people to whom we can relate meaningfully, learn from, perhaps, and love. The ego is not even our entire reality; it is only, so to speak, our point of departure in understanding, our point of reference. Life takes on more meaning for us if that reference is outward, and away from, rather than perennially back to, ourselves. We find fulfillment by serving others and by serving a worthy cause. We find very little fulfillment, relatively speaking, in thinking of what we might get in return, or of what others think of us, or of how they have misunderstood us. Happiness comes when we simply forget ourselves.

All things belong to a whole. All things are therefore related to us—even as islands are connected together by the earth, which projects them. At our center, as John Donne rightly said, “No man is an island.” Our separateness is an illusion, for our divine Self—not the ego—knows only unity.

The desire for infinite bliss is our hidden motivation in everything we do. We seek pleasure because, deep inside us, we long for the bliss of our true nature. Pleasure is the distorted reflection of bliss in the mirror of our worldly expectations. Our consciousness of separation from that nature, and from one another, arises only because our attention is superficial. We are spiritually myopic, the consequence of concentrating too exclusively on this one body, these particular feelings, the thoughts in our little brains. But the brain itself can do no more than express consciousness; it cannot create it. Any attempt to define consciousness can only take one in a circle: “Consciousness is thought, which in its turn is conscious.” This is no definition! Nor does thought make us aware of our existence, as Descartes declared, for without awareness one cannot think at all. And in order even to think we must be aware that we exist. “I think, therefore I am,” is a fallacy. What Descartes might have stated was, “I am aware of my existence; therefore I find it possible to think.” But of course, even this would not be a definition. Neither existence nor consciousness can be defined, for definitions are lower functions of them both.

The fact is, awareness is a soul-intuition. It cannot be either proved or disproved: It simply is. Our certainty of this fact is utter; it wells up from the depths of our very being. Assuming we are not so “out of it” that we couldn’t think if we wanted to, we are, if anything, more clearly aware when not thinking than we are when our brains are busy with a thousand thoughts.

I exist. You exist. Together we share this eternal reality. There is unity, moreover, in that existence, for the consciousness of existence is universal, rather than particular to any ego. In giving joy to others we give joy to ourselves. They and we are one. In loving others we ourselves discover love. Love too is conscious: an aspect of universal consciousness. When we experience universal love, it no longer matters much to us whether we are loved in return. Love’s own greatest reward is itself.

If, on the other hand, we cause suffering to others, the pain we inflict on them is inflicted above all on ourselves. A flow of energy is always strongest at its source.

Jesus Christ often emphasized these truths. The Christ consciousness, he stated, dwells in every heart. “Verily,” he once remarked, “inasmuch as ye have done it [that is, rendered or denied service] unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” In whatsoever way we treat others, we treat also the Christ presence in ourselves.

“You have heard that our forefathers were told, ‘Thou shalt not kill’; and again, ‘Whoever kills shall be subject to condemnation.’ But my message to you is this: Whoever is angry with his brother without cause already stands condemned; whoever contemptuously calls his brother a fool shall answer for it to the Supreme Council; and whoever calls his brother an outcast of God[1] shall be in danger of hellfire.”

There are many forms of murder, of which killing the body is only the most evident. To kill a person’s belief in himself, however, or—worse still—his faith in God and in his own hope of finding God, is an even more heinous crime. It, too, is murder, of a spiritual nature, and is far more blameworthy in God’s sight.

Many who proclaim their belief in God imagine that He is pleased with them if they condemn sinners self-righteously as outcasts from heaven. Jesus, however, offered hope to the greatest sinners. He emphasized not the darkness of their sins, but their potential as children of God. Even the worst sinner must return eventually, as a purified soul, to His light.

In the famous story of the woman taken in adultery, Jesus told her simply, “Go, and sin no more.”

Worse also than physical murder, which denies another person’s right to live, is the sin of suicide, which is a denial of life itself. Worse, again, than the condemnation of others as sinful is to condemn oneself as a sinner. Self-condemnation is a denial of the very saving power of grace.

As we judge others, so we judge ourselves. If we hate weakness in another, it only means we are ashamed of weakness in ourselves: if not the same weakness, then some other. We hate faults in others only if we have them, too, and want to conceal them—not only from others, but, if possible, from ourselves. If we scorn pride in others, it is because we too are proud, and want to divert people’s scorn to them. And if we condemn anyone as a sinner, it is because we know that we, too, have failed to live in God’s grace. Perhaps we hope to atone for our sinfulness by standing on the side of the angels, hurling stones of judgment (as we imagine them doing) and thinking thereby to align ourselves with divine grace.

From love for God, faith is born. Charity towards others nurtures love in our hearts. Forgiveness towards others draws an awareness of God’s forgiveness. Jesus stated it perfectly in the Beatitude: “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” John Donne put it well also in the line we’ve already quoted: “No man is an island.” Separate from one another though we appear to be, we are all one.

The way to live closer to God, and to perceive more of truth and overcome our own error, is to view Him as our own. He is our loving Father and Mother. Never is He our wrathful Judge. That is the meaning of the well-known Parable of the Prodigal Son: The son was welcomed home by his father instantly and lovingly. Such, indeed, is Patanjali’s definition of enlightenment. The soul remembers what it has always been: the truth we’ve forgotten during eons that we roamed in delusion, attached to our petty egos.

“This Self is never born, nor does it die. Once existing, it can never cease to be. Birthless, eternal, changeless, it is ever simply itself. Nor is it slain when the body is killed.”

Obviously, the Self referred to here is not the one we see in the mirror as we comb our hair in the morning! The senses thrust upon us our awareness of the world around us, making us forget the world within. Thus, we confuse our bodies and personalities with our deeper reality. Even immortality, to the average person, means existence through eternity encased in the ego. That person doesn’t think of it that way, of course; to him, this isn’t imprisonment. The concept of eternity, however, is too staggering for him to contemplate seriously. He can only think of it in terms of earth-years. Perhaps he visualizes himself over the centuries as becoming increasingly beatific. Otherwise, he can only imagine himself as ever the same: Joe Green with a big smile, strolling through heavenly pastures and plucking a golden harp.

Boring? Well, yes! Orthodox images do incline to be a bit static. Activate this image, however, by the concentrated power of the imagination; bring it mentally to life, and might it not easily pass for a description of hell?

“Then there arose a dispute among [the disciples] as to which of them was the greatest. Jesus, knowing what was passing in their minds, took a child and stood him at his side. ‘Whoever receives this child in my name,’ he said, ‘receives me. And whoever receives me receives the One who sent me. For whoever is least among all of you is the greatest.’” Our spiritual greatness, he was saying, depends first on renouncing our little egos. For in this respect we are insignificant, no matter how hard we try to make ourselves important in our own eyes and in the eyes of others.

In another Bible passage, John the Baptist says of Jesus Christ: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30) His statement applies in the deepest sense to all of us. If we would attain perfection, the Christ within us must increase. It can only do so if we eliminate gradually from our own minds the importance we give to our egos.

Thus, when in scripture we read of our divine potential as children of God, we must understand that this high promise excludes the ego altogether. This is a role which the soul has assumed temporarily.

To know God, we must abandon every vestige of thought that we are apart from Him. Jesus said: “Whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake [that is, merge his life in God] shall find it.” (Matthew 16:25) The eternal life that the scriptures promise is one of eternal joy in God. The astral heavens, though blissful in comparison to ordinary earthly existence, are ephemeral also. Though one abide there for centuries, time passes, and all time must end. Eternity can be experienced as a reality only in conscious union with God. We shall not find life in Him so long as we cling to this ego with the desperation of a drowning man. In any undertaking, nothing great can be achieved unless we are willing to relinquish our lesser interests.

Though the human body undergoes countless changes—not only in one lifetime, but over many incarnations—we remain inwardly ever the same. Though we acquire new traits of personality, we yet retain at the center of our being a Self-awareness that never changes. From this center we gaze outward at the universe around us. Yet we are forever untouched by it.

The world conditions us to a self-definition based on appearances. Such definitions are false, however, because fleeting. Strip away the skins of an onion and what is left? Nothing! The same may be said of our personalities. Strip them away, and nothing—no thing, that is to say—is left: only the indefinable reality that is our existence. No thing remains but that Self which is never born, never dies, is infinite and eternal. Weapons cannot destroy it though they destroy the body. Calumny cannot bring it to ruin though it destroy a reputation. Death cannot kill it even when the brain itself ceases to be. That, eternally, is what you are.

Sri Krishna in the above passage tells us to live deeply at our own divine center, and not at our periphery.

Give to God the credit, therefore, for anything you do well. And for whatever you do ill, think of Him even so as the Doer, for thus you will free yourself eventually from every compulsion. In Him alone glory awaits you—God’s glory, not yours, which is to say, not that “glory” which people may attach to your little ego!

Meanwhile, strive daily to know Him. Live in His love. God will guide you on the path, until you achieve union with Him, who is the final goal of all striving.

[1]This phrase is found in some texts, but not in all. From some of them it is omitted. Jesus, however, had a good reason for including it. It strengthens, and by no means weakens or alters, the meaning of the whole passage as it appears in all translations.