Sunday Service Reading #20

Last week we contemplated the well-known story of Martha and Mary. This week we'll look at this story from a different perspective:

Jesus, visiting the home of Martha, was teaching while her sister Mary sat at his feet absorbing his divine love and wisdom. Martha, meanwhile, busied herself with serving her guests, and was upset with Mary for not helping her.

“Lord,”she cried,“doesn't it matter to you that my sister has left me to do all this serving alone? Please ask her to help me.”

“Martha, Martha,” Jesus answered,“thou art careful and troubled about many things.”

“But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

Traditionally, this story has been offered to show the two classic approaches to salvation: the first, through action, and the second, through prayer. The excuse of the Marthas of this world has always been, “The church needs its Marthas, too.” Treatises, moreover, have been written to justify the Martha approach to piety, praising her self-sacrifice as, perhaps, an even higher demonstration of devotion. (Thus do the unmeditative workers in religion try to justify themselves!) Yet the fact remains that Jesus rebuked Martha. Elsewhere, moreover, he spoke of the virtue of feeding the hungry, curing the sick, and housing those who were homeless. It wasn't that he disapproved of serving people.

Wrong attitude was the object of his criticism. What he was criticizing was forgetfulness of the true goal of right, spiritual action. Good deeds, outwardly, without inner communion with God, will result in good karma but will not bring final freedom from all karma.

The path to inner freedom was described by Paramhansa Yogananda in these words: “Be always calmly active, and actively calm.”
As it says in the Bhagavad Gita, the second Chapter:

He who is not shaken by anxiety during times of sorrow, nor elated during times of happiness; who is free from egoic desires and their attendant fear and anger: Such an one is of steady discrimination.

Do your duty in life—so counsels this great Scripture elsewhere—but never lose sight of Him to whom all action should be dedicated.

VIDEO of Jyotish's Service on this Subject from 5-16-10

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Jyotish's Service on this Subject from 6-16-10

VIDEO of Chidambar's Service on this Subject from 5-16-10

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Chidambar's Service on this Subject from 5-16-10

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Asha's Service on this Subject from 5-20-07

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Bharat's Service on this Subject from 5-20-07

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Catherine's Service on this Subject from 5-14-06

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

#20 Activity Vs. Inner Communion
(#19 Titled The One Thing Needful in the original book)

Bible

"The Importance of Inner Communion"

This passage is a repetition, with further commentary, of last week's reading from the Gospel of St. Luke, Chapter 10, Verses 38-42:

"Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.

"And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word.

"But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me.

"And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:

"But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

We made the point last week that Jesus' rebuke of Martha was not for her service to him, but for the fact that she had overlooked the true purpose behind spiritual service. Her mind was centered in the work she was doing; it was not centered in God. Hers was an anxious offering to Jesus, the man, not a loving offering to the Infinite Lord of Whom Jesus was a manifestation.

The Master not only reprimanded her for her work-centeredness, her restlessness; he also pointed out to her the way to overcome these worldly traits. When he said, "But one thing is needful," he was speaking of the need on the path for meditation and inner communion with God. Indeed, how easy it is to forget God even while serving Him, if one's actions are not balanced daily with meditation!

Inner communion, with divine union as its goal, is the highest teaching in every true religion. This was a point on which Jesus made no concession. He did not say, for example, "Mary hath chosen the better part." In effect, what he declared was, "She hath chosen the only part that is worthwhile in the eyes of God."

Mary was sitting silently at the feet of Jesus, deeply concentrated on his words of wisdom, and absorbing the vibrations of divine love that emanated from his presence. Worldly people have a very different view from this of life's priorities. They would consider Mary's silence non-productive, just as Martha did. They see things from the outside. God watches the heart.

It is important to understand that Jesus did not mean one should sit only in the silence of inner communion, and not also serve God outwardly. He was not confronting Martha with rigid alternatives: activity, vs. inactivity. All he was saying was that during activity one should act with the consciousness of God.

The alternative to a life of restlessness is not withdrawal into a cloister. And the alternative to a life of contemplation is not to drown oneself in restlessness. The spiritual path calls for a perfect balance between one's outward and his inner life.

No matter how active we may be, we must keep alight in our hearts the flame of love for God. This means we should set time aside also for daily meditation. For when action is not balanced with meditation, even the sincerest devotee must lose his inner attunement in time, and revert to the shallowness of ego-involvement.

Jesus recommended as the "one thing needful" a practice that has come to be all but forgotten in modern times. Inner communion is no longer emphasized even in the monasteries, where the trend is to see it as an extraordinary divine favor. Direct communion with God is no longer urged upon monks and nuns as something they ought confidently to expect, if they will seek it sincerely.

A certain abbot in the Tenth Century was asked by a member of his monastery, "What if God should uplift one of the monks into a state of ecstasy, and during that time the bell should sound the hour for communal prayer? What ought he to do?"

"He should remain in that condition to which God has called him," was the reply. "The very purpose of prayer, whether private or communal, is to bring one into closer communion with God."

In view of the answer Jesus gave Martha, that abbot's reply was obviously the right one. There has, however, been a polar shift in Christian emphasis over the centuries since then.

This same question was asked in the present century of the abbot of another monastery. The answer he gave was the diametric opposite. "What you receive from God," he replied, "is yours to enjoy in eternity. Meanwhile, here on earth your first duty is to obey our monastic rule."

In this age, great masters have declared that the time has come for religiously minded people to return to the pristine teaching of inner communion. The need in these busy times is for people to devote a portion of each day to prayer, and to listening for God's answer in their souls.

Those who truly love God should give up merely talking about Him. They should not remain satisfied even with talking to Him. They must learn to talk with Him, in deep meditation. This was the message of Jesus. It is, forever, the "one thing needful" in all religion.

In teaching us these truths, God, through the Holy Bible, has spoken to mankind.

Bhagavad Gita

"Secrets of Discrimination"

"He who is not shaken by anxiety during times of sorrow, nor elated during times of happiness; who is free from egoic desires and their attendant fear and anger: Such an one is of steady discrimination."

Worldly people are forever tossed on rising and falling waves of pleasure and pain, success and failure, fulfillment and disappointment, happiness and sorrow. Whatever understanding comes to them of life's deeper purpose is like the brief glimpses one might obtain of the broad ocean from a succession of cresting waves.

People often turn away from life's deeper issues, which, to them, seem abstract and theoretical. Preoccupied as they are with their own pleasures and pains, they have little energy left over to do much thinking at all! In the experience of pain, they cast about urgently for some pleasure to distract them. And in the experience of pleasure, they seldom pause, in their enthusiasm, to recall how consistently their past moments of emotional upliftment, like ocean waves, have sunk back to become troughs of disappointment.

Unreflective minds actually welcome emotional extremes. They imagine that it would be impossible, without them, to know intense happiness. Edna St. Vincent Millay, the American poetess, wrote:

"I burn my candle at both ends; It will not last the night. But O my foes, and ah, my friends, It gives a lovely light!"

Is the light of dissipation really as beautiful as these verses suggest? Far from it! Extremists confuse happiness with excitement, and intensity with mere tension. They imagine they have found peace, when their emotions are merely exhausted. Their very pleasures are but synonyms for confusion!

It is only when the recollection of past suffering weighs too heavily on a person's hopes for the future that he begins to dream of finding some better way of living.

In this passage of the Bhagavad Gita we learn the secret of true happiness. It is inner tranquillity — not the fleeting peace of spent emotions, but the deep sense of spiritual rest that comes when the emotions have been calmed, and when feeling has been transmuted into a steady flow of intuitive perception.

Non-attachment need not imply indifference, nor calmness, the aloofness of non-involvement. Rather, calmness and non-attachment make it possible for one's awareness to expand. An expanded state of consciousness might be compared to a large body of water, in relation to which mere ripples seem hardly worthy of notice.

So many of life's tests might prove instructive, even inspiring, if one would only broaden his self-identity! A little rowboat is threatened by every passing wave, but a large ocean liner can move calmly even through mighty waves. The broader one's spiritual base, the less affected he is by any hardship.

A steady discrimination gives one a sense of proportion in life. It reveals all things, and all experiences, in relation to infinity.

The non-attachment referred to in this passage of the Gita should not be confused with joyless stolidity. Such is the popular, but erroneous, caricature of the stoic. True non-attachment is achieved not by dulling one's sensibilities, but by deep soul-awareness. The state of Self-realization is the natural fruit of daily, deep meditation. Only with soul-expansion can a universal identity be substituted for that of petty ego-consciousness.

In the silence of inner communion one finds himself rising above the turbulent passions of human nature. In divine ecstasy, the soul soars through skies of radiant light into God's infinite freedom and bliss.

Discrimination is that inner clarity of soul which guides one's footsteps unerringly on the upward path to union with the Lord.

Longest Reading from the Book
The Promise of Immortality

#20 Activity Vs. Inner Communion (The One Thing Needful)

“The deeper the self-realization of a man, the more he influences the whole universe by his subtle spiritual vibrations, and the less he himself is affected by the phenomenal flux.”

In the last chapter we saw that Jesus scolded Martha for being too much centered in her work rather than in God. Her sister Mary had been sitting quietly at his feet. “But one thing is needful,” he said, “and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

For one who is sincerely seeking God, the important thing is to develop an ever-deepening awareness of God’s presence—not during meditation only, but in every activity. Work engaged in for God’s sake, but without the thought of God, is good karma, but it cannot lift the soul out of karmic involvement altogether into cosmic freedom.

What counts most is the intention behind a deed. In the story of Martha and Mary, it wasn’t what Martha was doing that Jesus criticized, but her consciousness while doing it. Mary’s “better part” lay in her silent attunement to Christ, not in the fact that she was seated before him instead of working in the kitchen.

There is an anecdote from the lives of three shepherd children in Fatima, Portugal, who in 1917 were blessed with visions of the Virgin Mary. In one of the visitations the Madonna showed them a vision of hell which affected them deeply. The reactions of the two younger children, Jacinta and her older brother Francesco, were particularly noteworthy. Jacinta expressed deep compassion for the suffering of sinners. Francesco’s love expressed itself as a deep desire to console God for the suffering that people’s sins caused Him, and by their indifference to His love.

In these responses we see “in a nutshell” two of the attitudes of a true devotee: a longing to bring souls out of darkness and sin into the light of God, and an all-absorbing love for God alone. Both attitudes are dear to Him. Many great masters, however, including Krishna, Jesus, and Yogananda have said that most pleasing of all to God is a combination of these attitudes. For outer service to God is above all blessed when the inspiration for it is centered in silent communion with Him in the heart.

Mary’s worship combined both of these ways. Her outer service was evident in the fact that she was participating actively in Christ’s mission. And her inner communion was clear from the fact of her sitting quietly at his feet, and from the praise Jesus bestowed on her for doing so.

Mary’s soul was attuned to the vibrations of his divine love. Martha, though serving him outwardly, differed greatly from Jacinta in her mental restlessness and lack of focus.

The important point here is that, while it is right and good to work for God and to offer up to Him all that we do, the more divinely attuned we are during our activity the more closely we are drawn, by means of it, to God. Meditation is necessary also. Mental botheration while working for God brings us no inner peace, which alone can lift the soul up to higher consciousness.

Action performed from a center of deep inner stillness is more beneficial, even outwardly, than action performed for its own sake. This point is of immense practical value. For people imagine, as Martha did, that to do anything well requires total immersion in one’s work. Few realize that everything they do is an outward expression of their consciousness.

Consider music. No matter what music it is, its full effect goes deeper than sound. Figuratively speaking, it is a crystallization of thought and awareness: first of all, of the composer’s consciousness, then that of the conductor standing before his orchestra, and finally that of the musicians as they play. Subtly conveyed to the audience are conscious attitudes, whether affirmative or life-negating, expansive or contractive, kindly or self-involved. We are in contact, as we listen, with the consciousness of all who bring the music to us.

Can anyone feel peaceful under the frenzied beat of “rock ’n’ roll” music? Surely not—unless he is able to detach himself from sound altogether! And can anyone honestly claim that peaceful music—Handel’s “Largo,” for example—makes him seethe with restlessness? Only if his emotions are so violent that he cannot tolerate calmness! The most gloriously uplifting music, moreover, always conveys something of a lower consciousness also, if the musicians who play it are weighed down by worldly concerns.

A composition containing no overtly spiritual theme may for all that be inspiring, if the composer’s feelings were uplifted as he wrote it. Music written to express human love, for example, sometimes affects people on a soul level also, if the composer felt inspired by pure love.

On the other hand, if a composer tries to express exalted love but has never experienced anything like it himself, his work will be bombastic and uninspiring.

To the “Marthas” of this world, Mary’s silent absorption in the vibrations emanated by Jesus may seem useless and non-productive. In fact, however, spiritual silence is the key to the highest creativity. As a line from a song of the author’s puts it: “Without silence, what is song?” And a stanza of another one says:

The vibrations of music are conveyed primarily through melody, rhythm, and harmony, of which the most effective for evoking specific feelings is melody. Music itself, even when it is meant only to be danced to or to entertain, is one of the best means of transmitting consciousness. Everything one does, however, communicates vibrations, and does so to a greater or lesser degree depending on the energy with which one does it. The colors, lines, shading, and texture an artist uses are all vehicles for his consciousness, even if he is only reproducing a street scene. If his heart is disturbed, however, his most delicate shading will in some way be disturbed also. And if he is inwardly at peace, his every shading will convey a sense of harmony. One senses these vibrations intuitively, when the heart’s feelings are concentrated and calm.

Probably it would not be possible to analyze all the reasons why a work evokes feeling, for apart from outer signs everything in the universe is composed of vibrations of energy. Matter expresses them, but can never define them. An exact replica of a great painting never conveys the full impact of the original. Certain works evoke deep feeling; others awaken some feeling at least, and still others—the majority—convey little more than a sort of mental fuzziness, reminiscent of the saying of Jesus, “Let the dead bury their dead.” A sensitive person may enjoy music on a record player in his home, but if he hears that same music played by live musicians he is almost sure to recognize in it a greater vibrancy and power, even if the musicians are less gifted than the recording artists.

Many people have had the experience of being in a “happy” house. This feeling may be experienced there even before the house is lived in. The consciousness of the architect, of the workmen, and the anticipations of the prospective residents cannot but affect the whole outcome. Human beings live, far more than most of them realize, in an electro-magnetic universe, not in a solid, material one. We are constantly surrounded by vibrations of energy and consciousness: a known fact now, since the discoveries of modern science, though the vibrations being discussed here are subtler than the radio and television waves with which we are all familiar.

We are also influenced by beings in the astral universe. Disorder and confusion on the material plane appeal to lower astral entities. Material beauty and serenity attract the blessings of saints and angels.

Mary then, in this account, anticipated not only the devotion demonstrated centuries later by Francesco of Fatima, whose one desire was to comfort God, but also the devotion of Jacinta, whose greatest desire was to serve God through others.

Martha’s service, it must be understood, was by no means wrong in itself. It was merely, considering her spiritual potential, inadequate. Jesus reprimanded her because she had that potential. She might have received greater blessings had she served him with inner peace. Even if she lost touch with inner peace as she worked, if she’d continued thinking about God Jesus would have been able gradually to draw her closer to divine consciousness. He was saying, “Be more God-conscious; see His presence in everything you do.” His praise of Mary was for her God-centeredness.

In the third chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna says, “By the path of right action alone, Janaka and others attained perfection.”

Janaka was a royal sage in ancient India who achieved divine union by his inward spiritual focus in the midst of intense outer activity. He would not have achieved that exalted state had his consciousness been extroverted also. Instead, he demonstrated a perfect balance between inwardness and outwardness, and showed thereby that work done for God is soul-liberating when performed both diligently and with love for God.

Janaka was born spiritually great. A lesser person could not have attained perfection by work alone. Meditation is necessary for most people as a means of centering themselves in the Self. But so also is outward activity for God necessary. One who only meditates, unless he does so superconsciously, is in danger of sinking into a mire of indolence, which to him may seem a peaceful lake, but which is more likely to be, or to become in time, a stagnant pond. Outer activity helps by lifting one’s meditative peace to a state of dynamic inner calmness.

Jesus was saying, however, that, of the two activities, inner communion—that “good part” played by Mary—is the more important. It is sad how far in this respect the followers of Jesus have departed from his teaching. His recommendation of the “one thing needful” has been all but forgotten, even in monasteries, where most monks and nuns think of ecstatic meditation as a blessing that God may bestow by special favor, but that no one can attract by his own efforts. Present-day spiritual directors don’t urge their charges to consider communion with God as a state to be sought and confidently expected.

A certain abbot in the Tenth Century was once asked, “What should one do if he is lifted into an ecstatic state, and the bell sounds the hour of communal worship? Should he remain where he is, or go join the others?”

The abbot responded: “He should remain in that state to which God has called him. The purpose of worship, whether private or communal, is to bring one to inner communion with God.” To paraphrase his response, the abbot was saying, “If by some miracle a banquet should appear before you, don’t wait instead to be served your daily gruel!”

Considering the answer Jesus gave to Martha, that abbot’s reply was in perfect keeping with the scriptures. Since that time, however, there has been a polar shift in orthodox thinking. The same question was posed relatively recently by another monk, and the answer he received was a direct contradiction of that earlier one. “The blessings God gives you,” his abbot replied, “will be yours to enjoy in heaven. As long, however, as you still live here on earth, your first duty is to obey the rule of our monastic order.” This reply has been cited frequently as representing the Church’s position on this and on all similar matters.

This attitude calls to mind a story about Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, who complimented a soldier for delaying his obedience to a direct imperial command until he’d first checked with his superior officer. The Church, similarly, views its prelates and ministers as captains and lieutenants in God’s army. According to its attitude, God’s will is passed down through church “officers” to mankind. This is the world’s way of thinking. It suggests a reason why Paramhansa Yogananda used the term Self-Realization in naming his organization.

Paramhansa Yogananda was sent to the West to remind Christians of what Christ originally taught them, just as Jesus was sent, according to his own words, “to fulfill the law and the prophets” of Judaism. The essence of Jesus Christ’s teachings included meditation practice. Yogananda declared that it was by the will of Jesus himself that he was sent to the West, to revitalize Christianity by re-emphasizing the importance of meditation. Inner communion with God is the essence of both these religions, and was recognized as such by spiritually minded Jews and early Christians alike.

Inner communion was central especially to the teachings of the Gnostics. The Gnostic emphasis on inwardness gave the Church ample reason to discredit their teachings, though its leaders were not lax in searching out other reasons as well, for the Gnostics’ emphasis on inner guidance went against the Church’s efforts to centralize its authority. In the estimation of Church officials, the Gnostics posed a serious threat to their hegemony.

That was a time in history when most people had little or no intellectual training, and lacked the mental refinement necessary for recognizing potholes on the pathway of theology. Intellectual definitions can help to clear a way through the jungle of human ideation, but they limit human thought by encouraging a tendency to consider concepts more important than experience. A carefully phrased dogma may, in fact, make a superconscious experience intellectually acceptable, but it cannot replace the experience itself.

The Church considered it necessary to control the dissemination of Christ’s teachings lest false doctrines dilute biblical revelation as defined by its theologians. Even today, the Church claims that the time of revelation is past, and that any teaching since the New Testament must fit into the structure theology has erected since then. In effect, dogmatists have placed the teachings of Jesus Christ in mothballs.

There is an urgent need today for a spiritual renaissance. The spirit of Christianity, not merely the form, needs revitalizing. This rebirth could not emerge from a tradition that for two thousand years has committed itself to defining Truth intellectually. Patterns of belief are the hardest of all habits to change. Rebirth had to come from outside established tradition, and free of the hypnosis of Church influence. The natural source for this renaissance was India, where religious freedom has always been cherished—even as political freedoms have come to be cherished in the West. It is not that Truth ever changes: People simply need to learn to perceive it more broadly, now that they are faced with new self-awareness and increasing knowledge of the universe.

A notable feature of the teachings of both Paramhansa Yogananda and Jesus Christ, apart from the fresh insights they brought to the world, was their unswerving loyalty to their own traditions—a loyalty Yogananda expressed equally to the teachings of Christ. Jesus Christ was by no means the firebrand revolutionary certain writers have claimed. His statement, “I came not to send peace, but a sword,” (Matthew 10:34) was not an inflammatory call to arms, but a reference to the “sword” of discrimination, essential for slicing through the chains of outward attachment.

It is the saints who have always been the true custodians of religion. They alone are qualified to declare Truth authoritatively, on the basis of personal experience. Needless to say, there are gradations of spiritual experience even among saints, until full enlightenment is attained. For wisdom is not static; it is ever-expansive.

“No end,” the Master replied. “You go on until you achieve endlessness.”

To return, then, to Church dogmas and to Mary’s “good part”: If a shopkeeper whose one ambition in life is to grow rich says to you, “Well, we ‘Marthas’ of the world are needed also,” ask him, “Who taught you that?” If he replies, “Why, the Bible, of course,” then ask, “What makes you think you’ve understood that teaching?” He will have to answer either (with staunch ignorance), “Jesus spoke clearly for all people to understand,”—in which case you might ask him why Jesus so often said, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear”?—or he will answer, “The Church is my instructor in these matters,” in which case ask him, “Who in your church, specifically, is your instructor?” He will probably answer, vaguely, “I read it in some publication,” or, “Everyone is in agreement.”

Can wisdom be institutionalized? We have seen that it cannot. If, on the other hand, a true sage tells you something you’ve never heard before, ponder his statement for its possible truth; don’t analyze it for its inherent fallacies—if, that is to say, you want to grow in understanding. A spiritual truth is more easily recognized by the heart than by the intellect. The intellect is more inclined to spurn any new idea that hasn’t been formatted for its mental “filing system.” No matter what your intellect tells you, trust the calm, impersonal feeling of your heart. For such feeling is the secret of intuitive understanding. Be at least open to what the sage tells you, and don’t depend proudly on your intellect as the supreme arbiter.

The Church protects its back by making people saints only after they are dead. But since it is God who actually makes people saints, the safest course, if you want true spiritual guidance, is to go to a wise, and living, teacher. Intuitive soul-guidance will lead you to such a person.

In India, as we have already seen, the problem of true guidance is usually resolved not by scholarly committees, but by saints. The Indian scriptures themselves encourage people to seek personal contact with God, and not to rely on teachers who speak from books or from hearsay instead of from direct experience. Needless to say, not all the “guidance” one receives even in meditation is based on true insight. Subconscious “inspiration” may masquerade as superconscious experience. The difference between these two lies largely in the intensity of awareness that accompanies them. Indian tradition acknowledges that imperfection is endemic in this world, and that it will never be eradicated by suppression. Instead, in recognition of the fact that the Truth is beyond most people’s comprehension, India’s teaching is that Truth must be given the freedom to express itself in its own way. For no one can force Truth to “behave itself,” like a household pet! The sages of India have always considered it their primary task to inspire people to seek God. In divine contact alone, they say, can wisdom be attained. No “board of elders” can ensure against an upsurge of ignorance, especially since the elders themselves are often ignorant also.

In India, in fact, teachings that are not compatible with proved reality generally end up being disregarded without recourse to flurries of “crisis management” or to emotional calls for religious war. For it is not definitions that matter, but only direct experience. Modern science, comparably, has managed to discipline itself fairly well without bureaucratic control. In India, an occasional word of caution from a saint usually suffices, when correction is needed. Self-proclaimed prophets may rave about hierarchies of angels and archangels as though these were what religion is all about, but the public usually manages eventually to separate the outrageous from the reasonable for the simple reason that God resides in all hearts.

The Apostles, including St. Paul (whom fundamentalists erroneously enlist in their support), were true Gnostics, for they believed in verification by personal experience. Other teachers came after them who, while claiming “gnosis” (personal insight) as their authority, made statements that would be unacceptable to any true saint. Some of those teachers stated, for example, that all worldly enjoyment is evil. The Church quite rightly rejected this and similarly absurd statements, as any discriminating man or woman would even without prompting from the clergy. Unfortunately, the errors of the false Gnostics stiffened the Church in its denunciation of Gnosticism as a whole.

Thus, the Gnostics ended up being anathematized. The theologians denouncing them, however, based their “wisdom” on a perceived need for institutional control. “Universal truth,” as they understood it, meant virtually any statement that strengthened the Church’s authority. Often they overlooked deeper teachings, or else twisted them to support their premise of hierarchic centralization. And the Christians in their charge were told to seek spiritual guidance only from Church representatives.

Truth, however, has no obligation to endorse official policies, no matter who formulated them. Truth simply IS. Thus, error entered the official teachings, including a diminishing emphasis on meditation, or inner communion. Instead of personal contact with God, congregational worship and Eucharistic communion were given increasing importance. It is of course true that many people have found outer worship inspiring. The question is, to what depth have they been inspired? People can only receive to the extent that they are receptive. If their minds are not calm, divine insights will fly over their heads like migrating birds. For grace never descends by divine whim, touching the good and the bad indiscriminately. A hoodlum might attend Church regularly, but if he hasn’t renounced violence his attendance will bring him few benefits.

It was, as we’ve stated already, to remind Christians of their forgotten heritage that Paramhansa Yogananda was sent to the West. His mission was initiated by Christ’s will, “to inspire a return,” Yogananda used to say, “to the original Christianity of Christ in the Bible and the original teachings of Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita.”

In the Gospel of St. John, Chapter 4, the woman of Samaria said to Jesus, “Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshiped in this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where man ought to worship.”

Jesus answered her, “Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. . . . [T]he hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”

Later in the same chapter he said: “Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh the harvest? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.”

He was telling the woman,[1] “Don’t look to outward observances for your salvation. And don’t look for salvation in the distant future: Seek it here and now, in yourself.”

Interestingly also, his advice to “lift up your eyes” has an entirely yogic significance, for gazing upward in concentration at the point between the eyebrows is an ancient practice for attaining ecstasy.

Christ’s statement concerning Mary has broad implications. For the more we are calm and at rest in our own center, the more we succeed at anything we attempt. The contrast between outer restlessness and inner calmness has been emphasized repeatedly in this book, and needs frequent reiteration. The Bhagavad Gita, in the 56th stanza of Chapter Two, states:

“He who is not shaken by anxiety during times of sorrow, nor elated during times of happiness; who is free from egoic desires and their attendant fear and anger: Such an one is of steady discrimination.”

Worldly people are tossed up and down endlessly on rising and falling waves of pleasure and pain, success and failure, happiness and sorrow, fulfillment and disappointment. Whatever understanding they gain of life’s deeper purpose is like brief glimpses of the ocean’s surface from a succession of cresting waves.

People tend to avoid deeper issues, considering them abstract and theoretical. Preoccupation with pleasures and with subsequent pain leaves them little energy to do much thinking at all! When experiencing pain, they surrender to it, or cast about urgently for some pleasure to distract them. And when experiencing pleasure, they forget how invariably their past pleasures have crashed like waves and become troughs of disappointment.

Unreflective minds actually welcome emotional extremes. They imagine it would be impossible, without these, to experience intense happiness. The American poetess Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote:

Is the light of dissipation really as beautiful as her lines suggest? Far from it! Extremists confuse happiness with excitement, and intensity with mere tension. They imagine they’ve found peace, when all they’ve done is become emotionally exhausted. Even their pleasures are simply synonyms for confusion!

Only when the recollection of past suffering weighs too heavily upon their hopes for the future do they begin to long for a better way of life.

The Bhagavad Gita teaches that the secret of true happiness is inner tranquillity: not the delusive peace of spent emotions, but the deep calmness attained when one has transcended his emotions.

Non-attachment does not imply indifference; nor does calmness imply aloofness. Rather, both enable people to expand their awareness. This expansion may be compared to a river opening out onto a vast ocean, whose depths are not affected by the activity at its surface.

Life’s tests would prove instructive, not painful—they might even prove inspiring!—if we could only broaden our self-identity! The stability of a rowboat is threatened by relatively small waves, but an ocean liner moves unperturbed through high seas. The broader our spiritual base, the less affected we are by outer hardships. Steady discrimination gives us a sense of proportion, and reveals all things in relation to a universal reality.

The non-attachment referred to by the Gita in this passage, and the calm inwardness which Jesus praised in Mary, should not be confused with apathy. Such is the popular, but erroneous, caricature of stoicism. True non-attachment is achieved not by dulling one’s sensibilities, but only by deepening one’s Self-awareness. Perfect Self-realization is the fruit of daily, deep meditation. With self-expansion comes a universal identity, which replaces the all-separating delusion of ego-consciousness.

In the silence of inner communion, the soul rises above its identification with petty human nature and its turbulent passions, to soar through radiant light into infinite freedom and eternal bliss.

[1]Paramhansa Yogananda explained that this account, which begins, “And he must needs go to Samaria,” contains a hidden meaning. The woman was a fallen disciple of his from past incarnations. It was in the hope of rescuing her that he was inspired to pass by way of Samaria. First, however, she needed to show herself spiritually ready. Thus, to test her, he said, “Go, call your husband.” She passed the test by answering truthfully, “I have no husband,” thus confessing her sexual weakness in the fact that she’d had several, and that she wasn’t married to the man she was living with now. Her truthfulness showed that she was mentally ready to be guided by him.