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Universalist Radha-Krishnaism: The Way of Natural Devotion; A Practitioner’s Handbook

TABLE OF CONTENTS

EXCERPT:

ABOUT THE BOOK

A REVIEW OF THE NEW EDITION

Steve Bohlert has dared to break the shackles of fundamentalism to deliver a much-needed re-visioning of an ancient religion of India, giving it new life for those of us in a multicultural 21st Century world. He has extracted the essence of Bengali Vaishnavism, and while staying true to its person-ality, has planted the seed back into the human body, so we may again receive the Original Blessing. I do not hesitate to call Steve Bohlert a prophet, not only as one gifted with spiritual insight, but also as one who foretells the future — of a path that must be something like he sees it or not be at all. That is, without such a re-birthing of Vaishnavism, its soul will never plant roots in the world at large. The orthodox will of course decry it and condemn him. “The dogs may bark, but the caravan will pass.” — Daniel Cooper Clark, longtime Radha-Krishna devotee

FROM REVIEWS OF THE FIRST EDITION:

Many Westerners are attracted to diverse aspects of Hinduism and, in particular, devotion to Radha-Krishna, but soon find themselves alienated by two factors: an inescapable emphasis on ‘Indian-ness’ and the uncompromising literalism of the movement as it has come to the West.  Steve Bohlert’s approach to spirituality merges Western and Eastern thought by de-emphasizing cultural trappings and literalism, while maintaining a passionate emotional bond with the Supreme Being in this especially effective form of the Divine Couple, Radha-Krishna. — Dr. M. Valle, who teaches philosophy of religion

Hundreds of years ago, Radha-Krishna, the archetypal goddess and god of love, were little-known outside of India, and worshiped only within the Hindu faith. Eighteenth and nineteenth century archaeologists and scholars made us aware of Hindu gods, but prior to the twentieth century, nobody in the West had any actual experience of Radha and Krishna. Even today, god and goddess remain concealed behind a brick wall of fundamentalism, which most of us from a Judeo-Christian background are powerless to navigate. On one hand, we may sense truth there, but until Bohlert’s interpretation, there was no way to pierce the fundamentalist views and practices that keep these deities off limits. — Author Nori Muster

This book is sufficiently important that its wide dissemination amongst devotees is a desideratum.… old beliefs are given apparently radical new interpretations that widen their scope and potential for meaning.… Subal [Steve Bohlert] has done a great service by introducing or naming the Vaishnava concept of deity as panentheism.… I favor rāgānugā [natural devotion], as it seems does Subal, precisely because it … is about reforming the id-controlled ego into a love-permeated ego.… There is no doubt that Subal’s is an important brick in the wall of religious discourse … His great contribution … is that he has gone out on a limb and attempted to make a coherent and systematic presentation of Radha-Krishna according to his vision. This means of course that he has set himself up for criticism, but that kind of courage is what is needed to push the discourse further. — Jagadananda Das/Jan Brzezinski, translator and scholar.

I was the first westerner of my generation to receive these teachings. I practiced and developed them on my own. Now, I passed them on, and it is the task of succeeding generations to develop and adapt them further. I hope you feel up to the task.

Universalist Radha-Krishnaism: The Way of Natural Devotion; A Practitioner’s Handbook clearly and concisely reveals the esoteric meditative process of participating in Radha-Krishna’s transcendental world. It includes solid historical and theological grounding for this sublime devotional yoga practice of creating an eternal individual identity. Lifelong spiritual practitioner and teacher, Steve Bohlert, M.Div. (Subal Das Goswami) draws upon his interfaith background and presents everything seekers need to know to become full practitioners. He adapted these teachings for contemporary western readers who need no prior knowledge of the subject to begin.

EXCERPT:

Amorous spirituality may seem revolutionary, but it has a long and varied history. Universalist Radha-Krishnaism reintroduces it to enrich people’s lives. Those repressed by centuries of sex-negativity may think it a huge leap, but it is well worth the effort to become whole.

Natural devotees integrate the needs of body, mind, and spirit. They realize the interconnectedness of all existence. Practitioners bridge the gap between sacred and profane, thus healing themselves and potentially healing society as more people become whole. By transforming themselves, people transform society.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

I’ve been quite busy managing various stages of constructing my home, and it’s coming together even better than I imagined–thanks to my wife’s imagination. Our vision of how we want to spend our elder years is manifesting, and I feel more optimistic, hopeful, and at home than ever before. At this traditional time of thanksgiving, I truly feel thankful, fortunate, and blessed.

SOME EXCERPTS AND COMMENTS

In her 1989 foreword, Wendy Doniger says:

This is the most reliable and indeed altogether the best book I know on all of the many Indological subjects with which it deals, some of them major topics in Indian religion: the life of the saint Chaitanya, the tradition of the mad Baul singers, the aesthetic theory of rasa, the bhakti tradition of the love of God, the doctrines of Tantrism, the origins of the figure of Radha, and the worship of Krishna. But the elegance and humor are there too, and these are the qualities that make this book the best book I know on spiritual and carnal love (or sacred and profane love) in general, on love in union and love in separation, on the difference between poetic and doctrinal attitudes  to sexual love, and between European and Indian attitudes to sexual love, spiritual love, and the love of God.

Edward Dimock explains:

As Elder Olson says, symbols ‘cause us to entertain ideas remote from, or totally outside of, ordinary experience, by the extension of ideas we already possess.’ The image of human love is, in Olson’s terms, a ‘natural symbol’; for what more apt image could there be in all human experience to express transcendent joy and the silent, unknown place of St. John? Or what more apt image could there be to express the longing of the soul for God than that of the longing of the human lover for the beloved? Or what more apt image to express religious rapture than that of sexual pleasure? (4)

This is the beauty of the symbolism of Radha-Krishna, the Divine Couple, being the highest, purest representation of God-dess. They represent the perfection of erotic love based on classical Indian aesthetics. These aesthetic principles aid the Indian mind’s entrance into Radha-Krishna’s eternal dalliance. However, many of these principles become stumbling blocks for the Western mind. Besides the foreign language, costumes, customs and mannerisms, the acceptance of adulterous love as better than married love is repugnant, even to most modern Indians. It also leads to unwanted social consequences when devotees try to act out this model in their own lives.

The idea of entering into an erotic loving relationship with God-dess is most appealing. The followers of Chaitanya created a compelling mythos in this regard. I humbly rework that mythos so that Radha-Krishna may be seen and accepted as a universal symbol for God-dess in the 21st century.

In Bernard’s image, the soul “desires” to be united with the Christ, and this statement emphasizes that the two are separate. It is this aspect of the image which is most usual to Christian, and I might add to orthodox Vaishnava, poets, although the pain of separation always suggests the joy of union. For love in separation is pure love, spiritual love. How this view came to prevail in Christian poetry is of considerable interest and relevance.

It is De Rougemont’s opinion that, “the condemnation of the flesh, which is now viewed by some as characteristically Christian, is in fact of Manichaean and heretical origin.” (5)

To the orthodox Vaishnavas, as to the troubadours, it is the very longing, the intense desire itself, that is the end; the longing is an act of worship, pleasurable in itself, and giving pleasure to Krishna.…

But the sexual image is double edged. It may also be read as suggesting that the ultimate experience of the divine is not in longing for union, but in union itself, that this ultimate experience is the pleasure, raised to the nth degree, of human sexual union. (14)

This longing for union with God-dess is also common to Christian and Sufi mystics. So long as we are in this world, our primary relationship to God-dess is mostly one of separation based on our existential situation. But, the longing for union is almost as sweet and intense as the union itself, and it is what propels us to that union.

According to some texts, man and woman have in them both the divine Krishna and Radha: a woman is female because she has in her a preponderance of Radha; a man is man because he is mostly Krishna. Love between man and woman thus reduplicates in microcosm the love of Radha and Krishna, a love that had both phases, separation and union. (15)

This makes sense from a number of perspectives–spiritual, psychological, social, familial, personal. When a loving couple unites in love, it manifests the love of God-dess and is a foretaste of spiritual bliss. God-dess is within us and indeed is our very self. When we unite the male and female parts of our psyche, we become whole and holy, another taste of bliss. Granting equal status to men and women as partial manifestations of God-dess could help alleviate gender discrimination and dominance. Seeing everyone as a manifestation of God-dess, whom we are in a loving relationship with, could go a long way toward increasing peace and justice in the world.

Separation of lovers and the longing involved in it are called viraha in both Sahajiya and orthodox traditions, and to both, viraha is the way of salvation. For the more intense is viraha, the greater is prema. (17)

Though Radha was a symbol, the poets found in her a real woman also, and their poetry about her love is warm and personal. On the basis of the simple stories of the Bhagavata, the poets built the story of a complicated affair, with all the jealousies and pain, the pique and joy, the angers and satisfactions of human love. (p 20)

The character of Radha was developed according to the aesthetic principles of medieval drama and poetry. They did an excellent job; however, today it is a bit dated and culturally bound. I hate to say it, but much of it seems overly melodramatic and not the kind of relationship I want to be in with God-dess. Just as Shakespeare wrote wonderful plays, still I often prefer a contemporary movie. I present Radha-Krishna in a contemporary Western manner because this mythos has so much to offer, just as Shakespeare’s plays have been adapted as wonderful contemporary movies to reach today’s audience.

That Chaitanya was a religious leader of no ordinary power is quite clear. The revival he inspired encompassed the greater part of the populations of those areas now known as Bengal (both East Pakistan and West Bengal), Orissa, Assam, and Bihar. But the greatest and most inspiring of leaders is perhaps doomed to failure in a climate hostile or indifferent to his ideas and qualities. The time in which Chaitanya lived was ripe. (26)

Very little can be learned of Chaitanya’s early childhood from the writings of the time; stories about him are so interwoven with those of Krishna’s childhood that it is impossible to separate fact from fancy.… It is claimed by his biographers that he was a brilliant scholar. Whether or not this is pious exaggeration will probably never be known, for he has left us no writings … (30)

He [Chaitanya] died in 1533. The manner of his death is not known. Some say that he was absorbed into the great image of Jagannath, others that he walked into the sea. The least orthodox biography, and probably the most factual one, says that he injured his foot during his frenzied dancing and died from an infection. (31)

The term sahaja literally means ‘easy’ or ‘natural’ and in this meaning the term is applied to a system of worship and belief in which the natural qualities of the senses should be used, not denied or suppressed. (35)

This is what attracts me to the philosophy, these general principles. Universalist Radha-Krishnaism is both easy and natural. Why not model our life here on the eternal life we envision for ourselves, and why not envision an eternal life that can be a model for the life we live here and now. As Joseph Campbell said, eternity is a dimension of here and now. Why not sacramentalize our life here in a holistic, life affirming manner?

Both Tantrics and Sahajiyas believe that man is a microcosm, a miniature universe, both believe in Unity as the guiding principle of this universe, that all duality, even that of the sexes, is falsehood and delusion and that cosmic unity is regained, or represented, by man and woman in sexual union. Both believe in certain types of mental and physical control as the means by which man can know his true nature and relate the human and the divine within himself; both believe that there should be no caste division among worshippers; both are humanistic, and begin with the analysis of the nature of man, and see as the end of man the gaining of the “natural state,” the sahaja, the state of ultimate and blissful unity. (35–36)

Krishna the supreme God of the Vaishnavas is indwelling in man as the divine principle. The nature of Krishna is love and the giving of joy; it is this in man’s nature that is to be realized and experienced. (37)

This reasoning offers a simple and elegant theological rationale. I would reword it as: Radha-Krishna the supreme God-dess indwells in all as the divine principle. The nature of God-dess is love and the giving of joy; it is this in our nature that is to be realized and experienced.

Dimock clearly explains,

the Sahajiyas did not adopt the Vaishnava theology until after it had been developed by the Gosvamins of Vrindavana under the inspiration of Chaitanya. The possibility remains of pre-Chaitanya Sahajiya doctrine influencing both the thought of the Gosvamins and Bengali thought about Chaitanya himself.…

Those who have no particular religious ax to grind can hold to a theory of mutual influence: that some of the ideas and concepts, like that of the dual incarnation of Chaitanya, were probably shaped by the already long-existing Sahajiya and re-adopted by the later Vaishnava-sahajiyas after their implications had been worked out by the orthodox theologians; and that, on the other hand, Vaishnavism lent to the Sahajiya the whole of its theological structure … (38–39)

The works of the great and irreproachable pillars of Vaishnava orthodoxy, the Gosvamins of Vrindavana, are full of allusions to and quotations from the Tantras and Agamas. In short, there is ample evidence of contact between the Tantric and Vaishnava schools before and during the time of Chaitanya. (43)

That Nityananda was an Avadhuta is unquestionable; he is called so in many places throughout the biographical literature. The Avadhutas (the “pure ones”), says Bagchi were a branch growing from the trunk of Mahayana Buddhism, others being the Natha, Sahajiya, and Baul sects. (47)

Whether because he had affiliation with left-hand Tantric or Sahajiya schools or for some other reason, Nityananda was looked upon a little askance by his companions and contemporaries in Chaitanya’s movement. (50)

What is clear is that historical circumstances were right for Chaitanya to have been influenced by the Sahajiya movement, though he himself was not a Sahajiya. Secondly and more important, two of his companions [Nityanand and Ramanand] were Sahajiyas and were in a position to bring together, both socially and doctrinally, the Sahajiya stream with that of Chaitanya’s Vaishnavism. (67)

Dimock quotes S.K. De,

Each of Chaitanya’s associates and devotees appears to have developed a considerable community of disciples of his own, and taught the cult of bhakti according to the light which each had received in his own way from the Master. (71)

In the early days of the movement, there was a diversity of views and styles of devotion among the various groups with no real coordination between them. The Chaitanya Charitamrita is the text that unified the various groups, but not as an organized religion. It is unfortunate that Chaitanyaism was introduced to the West as an organized religion with rigid beliefs and regimented practices which discouraged personal innovation and interpretation. Universalist Radha-Krishnaism offers an alternative which encourages personalization.

Dimock offers many other informative insights, but I will leave it to the reader to pursue in the book itself. Some of his assertions are controversial, and we may never know just what the historical truth is. Meanwhile, Place of the Hidden Moon certainly helps broaden our understanding of Radha-Krishna devotion.

Oftentimes I’ve been asked to describe what a natural devotion is compared to practice found in institutionalised forms of Chaitanya Vaishnavism and their branches. Many things are in common between the two philosophies of life, and yet, they are so much different. It seems it’s hard to put all in words because we lack a reference point, or a tangible mirror of allegory already familiar to people. In other words, I needed a good story people can imagine, take the role and identify with.

A week ago my son asked me to join him watch the movie he adores, and I happily sat next to him, drinking my tea. The movie was Karate Kid, the first one of three. Young lad Daniel LaRusso (played by Ralph Macchio) moves with his mother from New Jersey to California and is confronted with a culture he doesn’t fit into. After being beaten up several times by students from a local karate school, Daniel finds a mentor, and a future friend Mr. Miyagi (played by Pat Morita), the humble maintenance man for Daniel’s apartment building. Miyagi agrees to help Daniel and teach him karate, although his methods are unconventional. Or many were thought so. However, they’re quite unlike those practiced by boys from the karate club.

As a film critic says, it’s a rare movie that manages to be both entertaining and enlightening. Daniel learns about Miyagi’s painful past and his deep generosity, lessons that are as valuable to him as how to avoid and block punches. Young Daniel learns about the many different kinds of balance that it takes to become a man and practice what you love unpretentiously, without showing off. The audience learns along with him and it’s all done with a light, sincere touch. No preachy speeches but a gentle unfolding of experience and understanding, coming from Mr Miyagi who lives a simple life and true spirit of karate.

As I was watching it, I’ve realised I finally got my reference point. Let me share it with you. I’ll transcribe some short and memorable excerpts from the movie and reflect upon.

Miyagi: First, wash all car. Then wax. Wax on…
Daniel: Hey, why do I have to…?
Miyagi: Ah ah! Remember deal! No questions!
Daniel: Yeah, but…
Miyagi: Hai!
[makes circular gestures with each hand]
Miyagi: Wax on, right hand. Wax off, left hand. Wax on, wax off. Breathe in through nose, out the mouth. Wax on, wax off. Don’t forget to breathe, very important.
[walks away, still making circular motions with hands]
Miyagi: Wax on, wax off. Wax on, wax off.

Mr Miyagi’s methods of teaching karate are quite different. He asks Daniel to paint his house, fence, sand the floor in the backyard, wax the cars. Daniel is confused, of course, because he was expecting a formal training wearing karate outfit, in the dojo (temple) before an almighty sensei (guru). However, he was given everyday tasks by a humble, simple man in maintenance clothes. However, through those simple exercises and housework he indeed practiced and thought karate, without realising it in the beginning. Mr Miyagi taught him how to weave karate (in our case devotional) practices and thinking into everyday duties and lifestyle, without breaking a sweat in the karate dojo (temple).

This episode alone is a shining example of the core differences between the natural Radha-Krishna devotion and the formalised, institutionalised devotion. The latter puts so much emphasis on life in and around the temples, neglecting everybody and everything else for the sake of devotion that leads to salvation, suitable robes and appearance (Indian dhotis, saris, sticks, etc.), hard training, breaking serious sweat to please a guru and earn some mercy. However, there’s much more I’d like to share.

Miyagi: Karate come from China, 16th century, called te, “hand.” Hundred year later, Miyagi ancestor bring to Okinawa, call kara-te, “empty hand.“
Daniel: I thought it came from Buddhist temples and stuff like that.
Miyagi: You, too much TV.

Quite funnily, this is so similar to what all involved with Chaitanyaism learn after some time. People believe that devotion as taught in temples of the institutions and their branches is all what’s there to know about devotion to Radha-Krishna. But what they were taught is not true, of course, and is much more like a TV commercial. Many don’t know that there is a non-institutionalised, non-formalised but rather spontaneous and naturally expressed form of devotion followed by simple family men and women generation after generation, long before institutions came and set the new stage. Similarly to residents of Okinawa, as we learn from the movie, where the knowledge and philosophy of karate was passed down from father to son.

Institution has its own mind, identity and a holy reason to live. Often is that reason in contradiction with people’s interest and uses all force and influence available — fear especially — to keep the flock from running and to express its own worldviews. We notice that nicely from the following scene in the movie:

[just before Johnny fights Daniel in the tournament]
Sensei Kreese: Sweep the leg.
[Johnny stares at him in shock]
Sensei Kreese: Do you have a problem with that?
Johnny Lawrence: No, Sensei.
Sensei Kreese: No mercy.

Like young Johnny Lawrence, many devotees involved with institutions have gone through similar painful experiences. The unquestionable authority of the guru (sensei Kreese here played by Martin Kove) was so overwhelming that it demanded ultimate obedience, often crushing boundaries of morality, freedom of choice and humanity. Even though every cell inside their bodies was screaming that what guru says was profoundly wrong, they followed it because of the immense fear — that they would be otherwise rejected and devoid of God’s mercy, without any hope for salvation. If God sees you’re not obeying your guru, you’re doomed.

In Caitanyism this is particularly sad but true. Institutions were always in war with everyone else. To quote Sensei Kreese from the beginning of the movie, ‘Here in the street, in competition, a man confronts you, he is the enemy, and enemy deserves no mercy’. Although it sounds a bit off balance and exaggerated for a comparison, the consequences of any unbalanced and exaggerated behaviour are similar. In India the institution was in war with family men and women and almost everyone else representing the tradition of spontaneous devotion, as opposed to priestly caste of renunciates inside the institution who proclaimed a war against the material nature. In the west we had the same, and more: institutions of Chaitanyism transplanted in the west considered western society and its people to represent a lowly culture of cats and dogs. The whole society needs to be evangelised, changed and live up to ancient Indian standards or purity, caste system and cultural views which were considered to be the best and desirable.

Again we are faced with the mentality of “us and them”, no much different from one illustrated through the demonstration and understanding of karate of the Kobra Kai dojo, and the overall philosophy of life they represent in this movie.

[some drunks were drinking and setting their beer bottles on Mr. Miyagi’s truck]
Miyagi: Excuse me, please. Boy cold. Must leave. Kindly remove bottles.
Yahoo at beach: Kindly do it yourself, Mr. Moto.
[Miyagi karate-chops the tops off three beer bottles]
Daniel: How did you do that? How did you do that?
Miyagi: Don’t know. First time.

This one is another gem. My Miyagi chops the tops of beer bottles to scare away some troublemakers, and yet it was the first time he’s done such a thing. This is the dynamics of living the faith. He was able to utilise his skills, quick thinking and experience into a new expression of the moment and elegantly solved a problem. Quite unlike formal forms of devotion, where every action and thought must be justified, prescribed and adjusted to fit within the official set of rules of the scripture written long time ago. No fluidity, or freedom to experience and bring new insights and new solutions into the philosophy, new circumstances and life.

In the world of karate, that would mean walking around with a secret manual of moves and defences prescribed long ago in some province where your sensei lived. If someone attacks you, you should follow the steps and procedures described in the manual exactly, or otherwise you’re not allowed to proceed. Even if the new solution can come to you in the form of instant new inspiration and can be quite ingenious, you must first confirm it within the manual and then apply. Otherwise, you cannot. Of course, all this would mean you’re dead already.

Daniel: Hey, what kind of belt do you have?
Miyagi: Canvas. JC Penney, $3.98. You like?
Daniel: [laughs] No, I meant…
Miyagi: In Okinawa, belt mean no need rope to hold up pants.
[laughs; then, seriously]
Miyagi: Daniel-san…
Daniel: What? [comes closer]
Miyagi: [taps his head] Karate .. here.
Miyagi: [taps his heart] Karate .. here.
Miyagi: [points to his belt] Karate never here. Understand?
Daniel: [after a short pause] I think so …
Miyagi: Good night Daniel-san [nods humbly]

What would you think of a friend of yours that likes karate, but goes around in karate outfit all day, screams samurai’s kiai battle cry at every innocent passer-by, and perhaps twirls his nunchaku at the bus station, when in the line to pick-up movie tickets and in doctor’s waiting room?

Similarly, what would you think of a friend who constantly walks around in saffron robes and touts you about rules and regulations that lead to salvation from this world, all through the steps and stages that resemble walking through the legendary chambers of challenges of Shaolin, that you need to live a life of deep austerity, earn God’s mercy, that constantly notices, counts and points out mistakes you’ve just done (i.e. held a spoon or scratched your back with a wrong hand, uttered a mantra in a wrong way, that you’ve just yawned, looked the wrong way, contemplated a meal or going to a concert, asked a wrong question, offered your opinion, etc.) and anything that happened to you for that person had a higher meaning which (always) points out your bad karma and need for repentance?

Natural devotion is an antithesis of all that. Being devotional has nothing to do with robes, sticks, leading life of penance and the levels of spiritual achievement measured with an imaginary yardstick of detachment from the material world. Natural devotion only has to do with our inner vision, inspiration that helps us transcend all those traps of formalism and makes us loving friends with all creature and God-dess Radha-Krishna.

— Zvonimir Tosic

So how should I summon myself before you in this humble column, my dear friend? How should I quantify myself? Perhaps it’s best if I tell a story that points to my intention.

I was practising watercolour painting in a class with lots of young students around. The motif was a quite interesting twiggy vine tree and its different intricate textures and colours – a perfect Mediterranean-flavoured image to exercise flow of colour and develop our brush skills. A teacher was supervising and helping those in need.

A little fellow came to him and complained about the tools he used – “Mister teacher, my brush is completely broken. It doesn’t want to paint nicely. This here is all wrong.” His brush was fine, of course, but my teacher took young fellow’s watercolour sheet, dipped his finger into the jar of water and fixed the problem with a slow twist of a thumb in a wet paint.

“This is the best brush you can get”, teacher answered and smiled to us. I’ve embraced and engraved that prescient advice deep in my heart. What’s the better way to explain natural expression of devotion anyway?

– Zvonimir