"Hinduism: The Religion of Harmony"

"HINDUISM: THE RELIGION OF HARMONY"

A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear

March 22, 2009

All Souls Unitarian Church

Indianapolis, Indiana

Henry David Thoreau once claimed that two books shaped his mind: Emerson's Essay on Nature, and the Hindu text the Bhagavad-Gita.

It should not be too surprising that 19th century Unitarian Transcendentalists like Thoreau were attracted to Hindu literature. For both the transcendentalists and the Hindus, everything that exists is an imperfect manifestation of the perfection of the divine. Trees and plants, oceans and mountains, animals and human beings -- all things embody God and express the perfect harmony of divinity.

The Unitarian Transcendentalist heritage -- transmitted primarily through Emerson and Thoreau -- has faded somewhat from our thoughts over the years. The genius of transcendentalism, though, has much to instruct us today, and perhaps we can relearn its insights, much as the transcendentalists themselves did, by opening ourselves up to some of the Wisdom of the East, particularly to the wisdom of the "Hindoo" (as the transcendentalists charmingly spelled it).

This sermon series is presented in response to several requests to re-examine Eastern religions. While much of what I have to say is simply to explain a few of of the major religions, I want also to explore the teachings they offer to discover what may be of use to us as Unitarian Universalists. This week, we look at Hinduism.

It is somewhat ironic that the ruling vision of Hinduism is a total sense of harmony, because from the outside, Hinduism appears to be one of the most complex of religions. Though I doubt whether anyone has made an accurate count, the Hindus recognize over 300 million gods and goddesses. Hindu society in India, as we know, is informally structured into a caste system of four major castes. But there are sub-castes in the thousands, and each one has its own set of rules. To add to this complexity, the religion is transmitted through individual gurus, and each guru has his own method for practicing Hinduism.

There is nothing simple about this complex religion which preaches the ultimate harmony of all things. But then music composers can confirm, I suppose, that harmony isn't always simple.

In one sense the complexities I've described are cultural accessories, appendages to the central religion which at its heart is quite simple. The caste system, the overpopulation of gods, the diverse teachings of disparate gurus -- all these are unnecessary to the religious spirit of Hinduism. With or without them, the Hindu spirit exists in learning the truth of the essential harmony in the universe.

In its broadest sense, harmony means that all the parts are congruent with one another, and the result is usually an ultimate tranquility.

We in the West do not typically view the world as harmonious. We view life characteristically as the battle of one part against other parts. Nature is a challenge to us, something we must conquer, or more charitably, something we must control. The weather is our enemy, mountains and oceans are obstacles to be overcome. Wild animals must be destroyed, or at least tamed and put in human service.

On a cosmic level, the West sees life as a battle of good against evil. This duality is not necessarily limited to God and the devil. We see health as good; disease as evil. Rivers are good; floods are evil. Butterflies are good; spiders are evil. We are good; our enemies are bad. Wealth is good; poverty is evil. Life is good; death is evil.

To the West, the world is not a harmonious system. It resembles more a battleground. After all, it has only been in our lifetime that the notion of "ecological balance" has acquired any widespread meaning, let alone support and respect.

But for the Hindu, there is an ultimate cosmic harmony to everything that exists, and everything that happens. What we consider to be evil -- disease, floods, spiders, enemies, poverty, and death -- are accepted by the Hindus as an integral and valued part of the cosmic harmony. That may be why one of their three most important gods -- Shiva -- is the god who oversees destruction. Shiva, the destroyer, is as valuable and honored as Krishna, the preserver.

Hinduism is perhaps the world's oldest continuing world religion. There is no "founder," no individual who is seen as the "prophet" of Hinduism, no one parallel to Buddha or Jesus or Mohammed. Hinduism developed out of a tradition of folktales that had common metaphysical views. It is based on an astounding amount of scriptures, the oldest being the Vedas, the most authoritative being the Upanisads, and the most popular being the Mahabharata. The Mahabharata is an Epic tale of mythological battles, eight times as long as the Illiad and the Odyssey combined. In it is contained the Bhagavad Gita, the story of the life of the god Krishna.

In its practice, Hinduism represents more a federation of loosely-knit traditions. There are many different ways that Hindus practice their religion, but they all share a common vision of the supreme harmony of life, and they all share the same goal of coming to understand that harmony, which is called Brahman, the supreme cosmic deity.

Like Buddhism, Hinduism begins with a psychological understanding of the human condition. There are three things, they say, that everyone wants. First, we want to have infinite being. We want to live forever, to be part of the infinite story of creation. Second, we want infinite knowledge (or awareness). We want to know everything about the universe, its particularities, its generalities, and its purposes. And third, we want infinite joy. We want happiness uninterrupted by pain and suffering.

These are what we want, but life teaches us that these desires are elusive. But they do exist! That is the starting point of Hinduism. The universe itself is unified, is held together, by infinite being, infinite knowledge, and infinite joy. That unifying force is the source of infinite cosmic harmony, and its name is Brahman.

Hinduism is, curiously, monotheistic (that is, it has only one God); it is polytheistic (that is, it has many gods and goddesses); and it is pantheistic (that is, God doesn't exist separate from nature, but fills nature and in fact is nature). How can it be all of these? It works this way, as I understand it.

Brahman is the supreme God of Hinduism, so in that sense, Hinduism is monotheistic. There is only the one overall God, but that God is not a person or a personality. Brahman is the creator of all. But there is also no distinction between the creator and creation. Brahman is not separate from creation. Brahman became the world itself, which also means Brahman became you and me, too. Its spirit fills all that exists. In this sense, Hinduism is pantheistic, the prefix "pan" meaning "everything" and "everywhere." So Brahman is everywhere.

But what of the millions of lesser gods and goddesses? How can Hinduism also be polytheistic? To answer that brings us to the heart of Hindu philosophy and practice, and particularly its view of the human condition. The infinite being, infinite knowledge, and infinite joy that we seek is Brahman. And yet I also say that we are Brahman. So why don't we have the infinite being, knowledge and joy that we seek? The answer is quite simple. We don't know that we are Brahman. That is the human condition: we are ignorant of our own divinity.

When I say that we don't know that we are Brahman, I'm not talking about intellectual knowledge; rather I'm speaking of experiential knowledge. There is a vital, important distinction. For example, on an intellectual level, I know what it means to be a Roman Catholic. I've learned a great deal about Catholic theology, maybe even more than the average practicing Catholic. I've observed Catholic Mass and ritual in several different countries of the world. I have learned most of the basic rules and heard most of the catechisms. And yet on the most basic level, I will never really know what it means to be a Roman Catholic unless I actually become one. Only then would I genuinely have experiential knowledge (as distinct from intellectual knowledge) of being Catholic.

According to the Hindus, it is this kind of ignorance -- experiential ignorance -- that afflicts us. We do not know (experientially) that we are Brahman. We do not know that animals and plants and rivers and mountains are Brahman. Instead, we are fooled into thinking that they are animals and plants and rivers and mountains. And we are fooled into thinking that we are something other than Brahman. As long as we believe that there is anything other than Brahman, we are ignorant.

All of the diverse forms of Hinduism share a single goal: to be liberated from our ignorance of Brahman, and to come to know in a profound sense that we are Brahman, and that everything is Brahman. The paths to this liberating knowledge are many, but all paths lead to the goal of liberating us from the ignorance of our own divinity. To discover, to experience, that we are Brahman is Enlightenment. It is Nirvana. This discovery of Brahman does not come through study of the world, it comes through experience of the world. It is an intuitional knowledge rather than an analytical knowledge.

Fortunately, we are given an infinite number of chances for discovering that we are Brahman. These opportunities are offered through the process of reincarnation.

Reincarnation is probably the most exotic aspect of Eastern religions: that when we die we are reborn in another body or another form. At death our soul is transmitted into a new body. Karma determines the form we are to take in our next life, and this is governed by an elaborate system of rewards and punishments. If we have lived this life well, we are destined to return as a person in a higher caste, with a higher lot in life. If we really blew it in this life, we’ll come back in a lower life, or perhaps even as an animal, or an insect.

What measures the success or failure of our life is our progress toward the liberating knowledge that we are Brahman. Belief in reincarnation is an ingenious method for motivating us in life, and giving us hope that there can be a better tomorrow for us.

The end of this process of Enlightenment and liberation is nirvana. When we fully realize that we, and everything, is Brahman, when cosmic ignorance is overcome, we break out of the cycle of reincarnation, and unite for eternity with Brahman itself.

But what about the gods and goddesses? Well, I beg you to understand that hundreds of millions of minor gods and goddesses aren't easily understood in our culture, and I will get to them, but I invite your patience a bit longer while I talk a bit about "the paths."

I mentioned earlier that there are many paths one can follow to reach this liberating knowledge. The metaphor of "paths" is crucial in Hinduism. There is no Hindu word which corresponds to the English word "religion;" the closest word is "paths" or "approaches." There are probably many thousands of different paths to liberating knowledge, but usually they are grouped into four separate types, and the path you choose depends on the kind of personality you have. In the West we would call these "personality types," and in fact Carl Jung built his famous personality typology as adaptations of the Hindu typology.

The four paths are sometimes known as "yogas." The word "yoga" is related to the English word "Yoke," and it means "to be joined with." These four paths identify four different ways to become joined with Brahman, and they correspond to four different personality "types."

The first path is jnana yoga, the "path of knowledge." This path is used by those whose personality is primarily intellectual. This is the path used by scholars, scientists, and analytical types -- philosophers, if you will -- but one must remember that the focus is not factual knowledge per se, but intellectual discipline.

The second path is known as bhakti yoga, and is called the "path of love." Bhakti yoga is intended to be used by those with personalities which are primarily emotional or ruled by feelings. The love expressed in bhakti yoga can have many different forms, such as service to others, but the ultimate love is love of God.

The third path to liberation is karma yoga which is the "path of work." This is a path for personalities of an active type, who express their devotion in the form of vocation, good deeds, and social responsibility. Perhaps we might call this the "A" type personality.

The fourth path, known as raja yoga, is largely a form of psychological exercise, and is used by those who are essentially introspective. This path demands very difficult meditational disciplines and trains one to focus inward and to understand the nature of the true self.

These different paths are not mutually exclusive, and most people are expected to use them all in varying degrees, though it is understood that each person specializes in one rather than on all.

I must confess that I am quite attracted to the implications behind the Hindu recognition that people are very different from one another, and require different methods for seeking truth. This is both psychologically and religiously sound.

The principle of religious pluralism and diversity is supported by the very foundation of the religion itself. The Vedas say, "Truth is One, they call him by different names."

I myself am not convinced that Truth is One, but I'm open to the idea. I am convinced, however, that each of us responds very differently to truth. We are attracted to different religions, or different denominations, not so much because we think they may be true, but because a certain style speaks to our own personal needs and personality. We do choose our own path.

As illustration, let me continue my comments on Roman Catholicism. One reason I am not attracted to Catholicism is because it is hierarchical and authoritarian. Hierarchical authoritarianism is at odds with my value system. But that fact is a mere by-product of a far deeper feeling: that hierarchical authoritarianism is at odds with my personality. It is the personality issue, not the value system, that is key here. That is why I am not attracted to Catholicism. Not so much because it is "wrong," but because it does not appeal to my personality needs. That says more about me than it does about Catholicism. Obviously, there are many people whose needs it does address well, and it occurs to me that my religious style would probably be quite ineffective and inappropriate for them.

More than most religions, Hinduism recognizes and allows for this diversity of religious sensitivities. This fact has made Hinduism one of the world's more tolerant religions -- at least in theory. While there are some fundamentalist sects within Hinduism, in general it is a religion that recognizes and honors other religions as acceptable paths to liberation, each one appropriate to its own country and culture.

A nineteenth century Hindu scholar, Ramakrishna, wrote the following on this topic of religious tolerance:

"God has made different religions to suit different aspirants, times, and countries. All doctrines are only so many paths; but a path is by no means God Himself. Indeed, one can reach God if one follows any of the paths with whole-hearted devotion. One may eat a cake with icing either straight or sidewise. It will taste sweet either way.

As one and the same material, water, is called by different names by different peoples, one calling it water, another eau, a third aqua, and another pani, so the one Everlasting-Intelligent-Bliss is invoked by some as God, by some as Allah, by some as Jehova, and by others as Brahman....

People should follow their own religion. A Christian should follow Christianity, a Mohammedan should follow Islam, and so on. For the Hindus, the ancient path, the path of the Aryan sages, is the best."

How does the Hindu follow the path? First of all, one needs to find a guru. Having a guru as a spiritual director is a fundamental part of most Hindu paths. This guru is your teacher, giving your life its ultimate direction. Your learning begins at about age 10 and continues until you get married. At that time, you are expected to direct your attention primarily to family, job, and community. Though spiritual issues are not forgotten, these family concerns come first.

Then, at about the time your first grandchild is born, you re-focus back to spiritual matters. Following your guru's direction, you concentrate on the path you have chosen. You become again a spiritual adventurer, devoting your time to religious study. The more serious people at this time leave home and family behind, become what is called a "forest dweller," a "sanyassin," and live some time in isolation in the countryside.

"But what about those gods and goddesses," I still hear some of you asking. "O.K., so we understand Hindu monotheism, and we understand Hindu pantheism, and we understand the paths and the yogas, but what explains those millions of pesky little deities?"

As I understand it, it works like this. As I said before, it is the human condition that we do not know Brahman. Try as we might, we cannot fully understand the cosmic harmony in all its fullness without a great deal of discipline, and the accumulated work of many thousands, maybe millions, of lifetimes.

In the meantime, we must be content to focus our attention on those minor gods and goddesses that we can know. There are gods who represent the various forms of the weather, gods who represent different emotions, gods of the land, of the air, of the night, gods of every conceivable aspect of existence. These are mythical gods; only Brahman is real. But since we cannot approach the reality of Brahman, we turn these myths, these partial manifestations of Brahman, into objects of worship and adoration. It is the best we can do.

These lesser gods are worshipped because of our human limitations. Since we are imperfect, we cannot worship Brahman, which is perfect, so we must content ourselves to worship imperfect gods and goddesses. We can only worship imperfect manifestations, or forms, of Brahman. One Hindu prayer goes like this:

Oh Lord, forgive three sins that are due to my human limitations:

Thou art everywhere, but I worship you here;

Thou art without form, but I worship you in this form;

Thou needest no praise, yet I offer you these prayers and salutations.

Oh Lord, forgive three sins that are due to my human limitations.

There is a certain humility to the worship of these many minor gods and goddesses. But there is also an interesting flexibility. Each person, depending upon what path they have chosen, can in fact choose the gods they wish to worship. There is something impressively honest about that system, it seems to me. We all do this anyway, don't we? Few of us admit it, but some of us worship our jobs, some of us worship our families, many of us worship wealth, others worship self-discipline. Some worship their own bodies, and some worship other peoples' bodies. Some worship knowledge and others worship experience. There are sun-worshippers, nature-worshippers, and sea-worshippers. We are all continually choosing our own gods. The Hindus, at least, have the advantage of realizing that is what we are doing, and go so far as to depict those gods in icon form.

I have so far praised a great deal of the Hindu ways of thinking. But I would be remiss not to acknowledge that there are parts of the tradition and practice that are of deeply questionable ethical value. I speak primarily of the caste system, and the associated social anguish it carries.

The caste system has no basis in Hindu scriptures, but developed over many hundreds of years. It is known that Hinduism became formed in about 1500 BC when Aryan invaders from Europe, carrying Greek and Latin traditions, conquered India.

Under the Aryans, rules emerged to govern the relations of different groups, and this gradually became hierarchical and hereditary, giving rise to the caste system. This system corresponded to the underlying Hindu philosophy that through our reincarnated existence, we can rise from one level of enlightenment to the next. The Hindu tradition valued each person doing well with his or her own station in life, and the word "dharma" is used to identify that value. And we all know that those on the lowest level, called the "untouchables," are treated as less than human.

Most of the world has come to recognize the hideous inhumanity of the caste system. Mahatma Gandhi spent a good deal of time opposing the caste system, and succeeded in having it officially outlawed. He insisted on referring to the untouchables as "Harijans," or "Children of God," so as to elevate their status as genuine and worthy human beings. Though it is still outlawed, the caste system is far too deeply imbedded in the Hindu system to disappear quickly.

Though there is nothing too positive to recommend the caste system, two humbling observations come to mind which might caution us not to throw the first stone. The first comment is on the concept of "dharma," which says that one must live according to one's station in life. It occurs to me that this is not substantially different from those in this society who claim that a woman's rightful place is in the kitchen. It should also be remembered that it has been only in our lifetime that the American apartheid system, of legally discriminating against Black Americans, has been dismantled.

The second observation is this: that in spite of the oppressive caste system, the Hindus have never had a system of slavery. The West can claim that dubious honor.

This sermon series on Eastern religions is not intended to be a critique, but rather to uncover what we can learn of value from the East -- and in the Hindu tradition I believe there is a great deal of wisdom that is compatible with our own Unitarian and Universalist traditions.

I began by noting the direct connection between our Unitarian transcendentalist heritage and the "Hindoo" tradition. The insights of the transcendentalists seem to be enjoying a renewed interest among Unitarians today, and the Hindu perspective is as instructive to those insights now as it was 150 years ago.

There are two insights in particular that come to my mind: First, the transcendentalists stressed the importance of trusting intuitional knowledge. The whole notion of "transcendental" wisdom is that we have within us the capacity of knowing through insight what can't be known through analytical study. Just as the human conscience knows right from wrong, our intuition can discern true from false. The Hindu tradition teaches a similar reliance on inner wisdom: that we have sufficient capacity to know all that is needed to be known, and that life's purpose is to hone and develop that inner wisdom.

Second, the transcendentalists were, like Hindus, essentially pantheistic, though they would probably not use that term. It was the transcendentalist view that nature is sacred, infused with the divine presence. No one can read Thoreau for very long without coming to understand the reverence which he held for nature. The Hindu pantheistic view -- the idea that Brahman the Creator is identical to Brahman, the Creation, or that all nature is a manifestation of Brahman -- displays essentially the same spirit as found in the transcendentalist worship of nature. This spirit has become increasingly popular recently in Unitarian circles, I think, corresponding with our rise of consciousness about ecological and environmental concerns.

There are other insights from Hinduism that can inform Unitarian thinking today. The notion of "many paths" to enlightenment is at the heart of the Unitarian and Universalist traditions, for example. Or, to imagine it somewhat more playfully, we ultimately choose our own gods or goddesses. The Hindu concept of everyone adopting a different god to fit his or her personal needs is to me not only reasonable, but fundamentally realistic about how religions work anyway.

There is some amusement in our own cultural folklore about how people own pets who look like themselves, or if they own the pets long enough, the pets and their owners begin to resemble each other. In a way, it seems to me this is true of the gods we choose. Even in our own society, people who are fundamentally judgmental and harsh in their treatment of others tend to worship a God who is judgmental and harsh. People who are caring and compassionate, tolerant and generative, tend to worship a God who is caring, compassionate, tolerant and generative.

The Hindu practice of choosing our own gods to worship seems to me to be simply a realistic description of human nature.

Another principle central to our Unitarian tradition is the idea of divinity "within" humanity. William Ellery Channing, the founder of American Unitarianism, spoke about a "divine spark" that is in every person. This is the source of our principle concerning the worth and dignity of every person. This insight seems to me substantially no different from the Hindu idea that we are Brahman, that the supreme God is in us, and that life's purpose is to discover God within.

And then finally, I would point to one other parallel in our traditions. Within our statement of Unitarian Universalist principles is the affirmation of our "respect for the interdependent web of all existence, of which we are a part." What is this affirmation if it is not recognition that all that is, is Brahman. All that is, is connected to everything else, and is interdependent. My understanding of the interdependent web metaphor is the recognition that I am connected with the furthest parts of the universe. That which is in me is also in each blade of grass that grows, in each mountain that towers over the horizon, and each star that brightens the dark of night. That which connects me to each part of existence supports the ultimate harmony that undergirds the Hindu faith. Whether there is an ultimate harmony or not, none of us can deny or ignore the ultimate interdependence of existence, and the Hindu sees this truth better than most of us, and has done so for longer than any of us.