Lord Siva

If I should burst through cracks in the laboratory walls
And if I should find the reactor in full melt-down
Has God’s eye, the one in His brow, opened a bit?
Crack my skull against the phallic stone
Coconut milk splashes the ground and God the Son
Drinks in my thoughts, feelings, my whole personhood
This is the only sacrifice and all of Heaven.

“Is Hinduism Rational?” on People of Shambhala

The first part of a two-part article of mine is now appearing on People of Shambhala. You may find it here: http://peopleofshambhala.com/is-hinduism-rational-part-i/

Please read and let me know what you think! Part 2 should be up next weekend.

Śiva and the Gunas

Śiva, the Auspicious, simultaneously beautiful, loving, merciful, and awful, is said by His Yogis and Bhaktas to be none other than the Uncreate Reality beyond all qualities; others say of Him that He is the essence of tamoguna, the quality or tendency to crystallization, involution, and inertia. There is a clear contradiction, here, for it is not right to say of Godhead that He is characterized by anything, let alone by materiality, density, and sloth! We can say of Śiva, however, that He is certainly the resolution of all paradoxes. The contradictory attributions made of Him in Scripture and philosophy always point beyond themselves to a more essential element.

The twenty-five tattvas (ontological principles) of Sāṃkhya — ranging from the gross elements of earth, water, fire, air, and space, through the subtle bodies, to the two essentials of prakṛti (nature) and puruṣa (literally “man”, but in this context “spirit” is more direct) — describe, among other things, the codependent arising (in the Buddha’s sense) and expression of the three gunas. Those “thread-like qualities” make up the warp and woof of the entire created universe; they exist in chaotic potential within primordial prakṛti until manifestation is necessitated by her interaction with the orderly puruṣa. It is within this matrix that the so-called trimūrti of Brahmā, Viṣnu, and Śiva (in His form of Rudra, the Howler) is established as the personalities of the gunas, such that Brahmā = rajas (expansiveness), Viṣnu = sattva (peacefulness), and Rudra-Śiva = tamas (inertia and dissolution).

Reality is, however, essentially and ultimately non-dual. As such, Śaiva cosmology sees an additional eleven tattvas yet more subtle than the twenty-five. These trans-creational or supramanifest principles include the modes by which the Divine self-limits or contracts in order to “make way” for creation, and even include — in conceptual form, and only in order to provide a kind of map or diagram of sublimation and ascension — the unmanifest Godhead Itself. In short, Śaiva Sāṃkhya is a view of Sāṃkhya in its methodological, rather than speculative, aspect. It is seen equally in Kashmir Śaivism and in the Tamil Vedānta-Siddhānta of Sage Tirumūlar, in varying degrees of explicit exposition, but ultimately forms the base of all Śaivism.

At any rate, it ought to be clear that, beyond the level of prakṛti, the gunas do not obtain. Simply put, they only exist as the raw materials of the chaos from which manifestion issues; any more subtle application of the idea of the gunas is purely abstract and speculative.

An additional point bears on the present discussion: that Śiva is not (as is probably clear, by now) limited to a mere function. By His interactions with them, Śiva makes quite clear that Brahmā, Viṣnu, and Rudra are His functions, arising as graces from His more transcendent graces of Maheśvara (veiling grace) and Sadāśiva (revealing grace). So, the gunas manifest particular processes which, if we may so speak, issue from Śiva as both efficient and material cause, but in no way define Him.

There is a sense, however, in which we may discuss the gunas above prakṛti, and this sense, as previously suggested, is in the abstract — a means for the human mind to relate to Essence by way of contingency. This usage is illustrated explicitly in the well-known image of Kālī standing or dancing upon the corpse of Lord Śiva. Here, Kālī is the Mahāśakti or, more precisely, Paraśakti from Whom and by Whom even the six limiting principles, puruṣa, and prakṛti arise prior to the act of creation. As such, Hers is the entire process of creation, preservation, and destruction. Her passionate dance and violent power allow us to call Her — provisionally! — rajasic. The “corpse” of Śiva under Her feet presents to us Śiva in His mode as transcendent Ground of Being, the Self-Existent Nonexistence which forms the substract of Paraśakti’s activity. By way of conceptual exercise, then, we call Him tamasic.

It bears noting that there is no “sattvic” element to this image; for that, we must turn to Ardhanārīsvara, the “half-female Lord.” This is the re-unification of Śiva and Śakti at the level of the act of giving-forth the creation and reabsorbing the pure souls who climb back to their Source. It is in the sense of gracious mildness and benevolence that we may call this Form sattvic.

Of course, all of the observations of the last two paragraphs are symbolic in the lesser sense: they use the language of the dependent to point toward — for they are not capable of pointing immediately “to” — the essential. It can be very helpful to relate the processes of our immediate experience, of our own minds and bodies, to Transcendence, or temporal things to Eternity, but fanaticism and fundamentalism arise when we draw absolute conclusions from relative things.

Sattva, rajas, and tamas are the most basic processes — or, more precisely, tendencies — of Nature. None is either good or evil of itself. Yoga teachings, however, that only sattva tends toward openness, spontaneity, and peace. It is thus that we are taught to cultivate sattva in our individual economies. But Nature is, properly speaking, limited. She is the creation itself, and not the Creator. As the Scholastics, Hermeticists, and alchemists of the West know well, Nature is a living book; we may read her literally, morally, figuratively, or metaphysically, just like any true Scripture. But we must not mix up those senses; to do so is to stumble, and to persist is to fall into the abyss of reductionism, of solipsism, or of nihilism.

Joining the Hindu Community: Names

I’m at the stage of trying to decide upon my Saivite name. I will then start using it, “feeling it out”, as it were, and will eventually have my name legally changed leading up to a formal name-giving ceremony with a priest. This will surely be an interesting process. I know some very open-minded people, and have a loving family, so I know I’ll get through this, but I also feel like I’ll lose a few along the way.

Joining the Hindu Community: Some Early Observations

It has been nearly two months, now, since I began trying to discover and interact with the local Hindu community. I live in the area of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, so the Hindu community is fairly large and diverse. The Sri Venkaeswara Temple, the Hindu Jain Temple, and Chinmaya Mission Pittsburgh, among others, mostly in the suburban Monroeville and Penn Hills area, serve the community as religious and cultural centers in many capacities. For example, I recently took a seven-week workshop in spoken Sanskrit generously hosted by Chinmaya Mission Pittsburgh.My immediate impression is not that of an insular community trying hard to keep the tide of filthy Western influence out, as I had been taught in high school cultural geography class, but rather of an extended family who recognize earnest efforts to learn their ways when they see them and welcome, with open hearts and warm smiles, anybody who truly loves God and Gods regardless of ethnic, cultural, or religious background. Hinduism is neither closed to dedicated seekers, nor even to those just innocently curious. I’m not positive where the myth of Hinduism being “closed” came from, but I have read it in even the most scholarly of books on the topic from authors whom I respect deeply for their otherwise broad and deep religious knowledge. Great authorities within Hinduism itself, however, make clear that Hinduism is not only just now open to newcomers, but always has been throughout its history; otherwise, how could people as diverse as Sri Lankans, Nepalese, and Alexander’s Greeks have made their way into Sanātana Dharma long before me?

I don’t mean to make this sound like a dispassionate study in anthropology. My interest is direct and specific: to gain entry to the mysteries of Dharma. And, to do so, I must also learn to integrate this same multifarious dharma into all the many areas and aspects of life. And I have some truly wonderful individual human beings to thank for what little progress I have made in this process. I have been recognized, without any prompting on my part, as a Śiva-bhakta by  temple priests and teachers of Vedanta, welcomed to kirtans, and brought in to participate in the Diwali Lakshmi puja and stotara. No, this isn’t because I am special and they can see it; it is because they are special. In a world so often characterized by walls and “No Trespassing” signs, Hindus have been those to open doors, smile, and pass me a plate of hot food.

Aum Shantiḥ Shantiḥ Shantiḥ