Swami Vivekananda is an Universal Being and so also stands his Universal Messages. He is regarded as an incarnation of Lord Shiva and called as Modern Prophet,Patriotic-Saint,Seer etc. He declared: "MY IDEAL IS TO PREACH MANKIND THEIR DIVINITY AND HOW TO MAKE IT MANIFEST IN EVERY MOMENT OF LIFE." His 150th Birth Anniversary Celebrations are observed from 2010 to 2014. Let us rekindle our aspirations and draw inspiration from his Life, Writings, Speeches,Stories etc. May He bless all .
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SWAMI VIVEKANANDA LITERATURE
31.10.13
17.10.13
VIVEKANANDA RATHA IN WEST BENGAL
10.10.13
VEDIC RELIGIOUS IDEALS
MAY MOTHER AND SWAMIJI BLESS YOU ON THIS OCCASION OF SRI DURGA PUJA.
What concerns us most is the religious thought — on soul and God and all that
appertains to religion. We will take the Samhitâs. These are collections of hymns forming, as it were, the oldest Aryan literature, properly speaking, the oldest literature in the world. There may have been some scraps of literature of older date here and there, older than that even, but not books, or literature properly so called. As a collected book, this is the oldest the world has, and herein is portrayed the earliest feeling of the Aryans, their aspirations, the questions that arose about their manners and methods, and so on. At the very outset we find a very curious idea. These hymns are sung in praise of different gods, Devas as they are called, the bright ones. There is quite a number of them. One is called Indra, another Varuna, another Mitra, Parjanya, and so on. Various mythological and allegorical figures come before us one after the other — for instance, Indra the thunderer, striking the serpent who has withheld the rains from mankind. Then he lets fly his thunderbolt, the serpent is killed, and rain comes down in showers. The people are pleased, and they worship Indra with oblations. They make a sacrificial pyre, kill some animals, roast their flesh upon spits, and offer that meat to Indra. And they had a popular plant called Soma. What plant it was nobody knows now; it has entirely disappeared, but from the books we gather that, when crushed, it produced a sort of milky juice, and that was fermented; and it can also be gathered that this fermented Soma juice was intoxicating. This also they offered to Indra and the other gods, and they also drank it themselves. Sometimes they drank a little too much, and so did the gods. Indra on occasions got drunk. There are passages to show that Indra at one time drank so much of this Soma juice that he talked irrelevant words. So with Varuna. He is another god, very powerful, and is in the same way protecting his votaries, and they are praising him with their libations of Soma. So is the god of war, and so on. But the popular idea that strikes one as making the mythologies of the Samhitas entirely different from the other mythologies is, that along with every one of these gods is the idea of an infinity. This infinite is abstracted, and sometimes described as Âditya. At other times it is affixed, as it were, to all the other gods. Take, for example, Indra. In some of the books you will find that Indra has a body, is very strong, sometimes is wearing golden armour, and comes down, lives and eats with his votaries, fights the demons, fights the snakes, and so on. Again, in one hymn we find that Indra has been given a very high position; he is omnipresent and omnipotent, and Indra sees the heart of every being. So with Varuna. This Varuna is god of the air and is in charge of the water, just as Indra was previously; and then, all of a sudden, we find him raised up and said to be omnipresent, omnipotent, and so on. I will read one passage about this Varuna in his highest form, and you will understand what I mean. It has been translated into English poetry, so it is better that I read it in that form.
What concerns us most is the religious thought — on soul and God and all that
appertains to religion. We will take the Samhitâs. These are collections of hymns forming, as it were, the oldest Aryan literature, properly speaking, the oldest literature in the world. There may have been some scraps of literature of older date here and there, older than that even, but not books, or literature properly so called. As a collected book, this is the oldest the world has, and herein is portrayed the earliest feeling of the Aryans, their aspirations, the questions that arose about their manners and methods, and so on. At the very outset we find a very curious idea. These hymns are sung in praise of different gods, Devas as they are called, the bright ones. There is quite a number of them. One is called Indra, another Varuna, another Mitra, Parjanya, and so on. Various mythological and allegorical figures come before us one after the other — for instance, Indra the thunderer, striking the serpent who has withheld the rains from mankind. Then he lets fly his thunderbolt, the serpent is killed, and rain comes down in showers. The people are pleased, and they worship Indra with oblations. They make a sacrificial pyre, kill some animals, roast their flesh upon spits, and offer that meat to Indra. And they had a popular plant called Soma. What plant it was nobody knows now; it has entirely disappeared, but from the books we gather that, when crushed, it produced a sort of milky juice, and that was fermented; and it can also be gathered that this fermented Soma juice was intoxicating. This also they offered to Indra and the other gods, and they also drank it themselves. Sometimes they drank a little too much, and so did the gods. Indra on occasions got drunk. There are passages to show that Indra at one time drank so much of this Soma juice that he talked irrelevant words. So with Varuna. He is another god, very powerful, and is in the same way protecting his votaries, and they are praising him with their libations of Soma. So is the god of war, and so on. But the popular idea that strikes one as making the mythologies of the Samhitas entirely different from the other mythologies is, that along with every one of these gods is the idea of an infinity. This infinite is abstracted, and sometimes described as Âditya. At other times it is affixed, as it were, to all the other gods. Take, for example, Indra. In some of the books you will find that Indra has a body, is very strong, sometimes is wearing golden armour, and comes down, lives and eats with his votaries, fights the demons, fights the snakes, and so on. Again, in one hymn we find that Indra has been given a very high position; he is omnipresent and omnipotent, and Indra sees the heart of every being. So with Varuna. This Varuna is god of the air and is in charge of the water, just as Indra was previously; and then, all of a sudden, we find him raised up and said to be omnipresent, omnipotent, and so on. I will read one passage about this Varuna in his highest form, and you will understand what I mean. It has been translated into English poetry, so it is better that I read it in that form.
The mighty Lord on high
our deeds, as if at hand, espies; The gods know all men do, though men would
fain their acts disguise; Whoever stands, whoever moves, or steals from place
to place, Or hides him in his secret cell — the gods his movements trace.
Wherever two together plot, and deem they are alone, King Varuna is there, a
third, and all their schemes are known. This earth is his, to him belong those
vast and boundless skies; Both seas within him rest, and yet in that small pool
he lies, Whoever far beyond the sky should think his way to wing. He could not
there elude the grasp of Varuna the King. His spies, descending from the skies,
glide all this world around; Their thousand eyes all-scanning sweep to earth's
remotest bound.
So we can multiply
examples about the other gods; they all come, one after the other, to share the
same fate — they first begin as gods, and then they are raised to this
conception as the Being in whom the whole universe exists, who sees every
heart, who is the ruler of the universe. And in the case of Varuna, there is
another idea, just the germ of one idea which came, but was immediately
suppressed by the Aryan mind, and that was the idea of fear. In another place
we read they are afraid they have sinned and ask Varuna for pardon. These ideas
were never allowed, for reasons you will come to understand later on, to grow
on Indian soil, but the germs were there sprouting, the idea of fear, and the
idea of sin. This is the idea, as you all know, of what is called monotheism.
This monotheism, we see, came to India at a very early period. Throughout the
Samhitas, in the first and oldest part, this monotheistic idea prevails, but we
shall find that it did not prove sufficient for the Aryans; they threw it
aside, as it were, as a very primitive sort of idea and went further on, as we
Hindus think. Of course in reading books and criticisms on the Vedas written by
Europeans, the Hindu cannot help smiling when he reads, that the writings of
our authors are saturated with this previous education alone. Persons who have
sucked in as their mother's milk the idea that the highest ideal of God is the
idea of a Personal God, naturally dare not think on the lines of these ancient
thinkers of India, when they find that just after the Samhitas, the
monotheistic idea with which the Samhita portion is replete was thought by the
Aryans to be useless and not worthy of philosophers and thinkers, and that they
struggled hard for a more philosophical and transcendental idea. The
monotheistic idea was much too human for them, although they gave it such
descriptions as "The whole universe rests in Him," and "Thou art
the keeper of all hearts." The Hindus were bold, to their great credit be
it said, bold thinkers in all their ideas, so bold that one spark of their
thought frightens the so-called bold thinkers of the West. Well has it been
said by Prof. Max Müller about these thinkers that they climbed up to heights
where their lungs only could breathe, and where those of other beings would
have burst. These brave people followed reason wherever it led them, no matter
at what cost, never caring if all their best superstitions were smashed to
pieces, never caring what society would think about them, or talk about them;
but what they thought was right and true, they preached and they talked.
Before going into all
these speculations of the ancient Vedic sages, we will first refer to one or
two very curious instances in the Vedas. The peculiar fact — that these gods
are taken up, as it were, one after the other, raised and sublimated, till each
has assumed the proportions of the infinite Personal God of the Universe —
calls for an explanation. Prof. Max Müller creates for it a new name, as he
thinks it peculiar to the Hindus: he calls it "Henotheism". We need
not go far for the explanation. It is within the book. A few steps from the
very place where we find those gods being raised and sublimated, we find the explanation
also. The question arises how the Hindu mythologies should be so unique, so
different from all others. In Babylonian or Greek mythologies we find one god
struggling upwards, and he assumes a position and remains there, while the
other gods die out. Of all the Molochs, Jehovah becomes supreme, and the other
Molochs are forgotten, lost for ever; he is the God of gods. So, too, of all
the Greek gods, Zeus comes to the front and assumes big proportions, becomes
the God of the Universe, and all the other gods become degraded into minor
angels. This fact was repeated in later times. The Buddhists and the Jains
raised one of their prophets to the Godhead, and all the other gods they made
subservient to Buddha, or to Jina. This is the world-wide process, but there we
find an exception, as it were. One god is praised, and for the time being it is
said that all the other gods obey his commands, and the very one who is said to
be raised up by Varuna, is himself raised up, in the next book, to the highest position.
They occupy the position of the Personal God in turns. But the explanation is
there in the book, and it is a grand explanation, one that has given the theme
to all subsequent thought in India, and one that will be the theme of the whole
world of religions: "Ekam Sat Viprâ Bahudhâ Vadanti — That which exists is
One; sages call It by various names." In all these cases where hymns were
written about all these gods, the Being perceived was one and the same; it was
the perceiver who made the difference. It was the hymnist, the sage, the poet,
who sang in different languages and different words, the praise of one and the
same Being. "That which exists is One; sages call It by various
names." Tremendous results have followed from that one verse. Some of you,
perhaps, are surprised to think that India is the only country where there
never has been a religious persecution, where never was any man disturbed for
his religious faith. Theists or atheists, monists, dualists, monotheists are
there and always live unmolested. Materialists were allowed to preach from the
steps of Brahminical temples, against the gods, and against God Himself; they
went preaching all over the land that the idea of God was a mere superstition,
and that gods, and Vedas, and religion were simply superstitions invented by
the priests for their own benefit, and they were allowed to do this unmolested.
And so, wherever he went, Buddha tried to pull down every old thing sacred to
the Hindus to the dust, and Buddha died of ripe old age. So did the Jains, who
laughed at the idea of God. "How can it be that there is a God?" they
asked; "it must be a mere superstition." So on, endless examples
there are. Before the Mohammedan wave came into India, it was never known what
religious persecution was; the Hindus had only experienced it as made by
foreigners on themselves. And even now it is a patent fact how much Hindus have
helped to build Christian churches, and how much readiness there is to help
them. There never has been bloodshed. Even heterodox religions that have come
out of India have been likewise affected; for instance, Buddhism. Buddhism is a
great religion in some respects, but to confuse.
Buddhism with Vedanta
is without meaning; anyone may mark just the difference that exists between
Christianity and the Salvation Army. There are great and good points in
Buddhism, but these great points fell into hands which were not able to keep
them safe. The jewels which came from philosophers fell into the hands of mobs,
and the mobs took up their ideas. They had a great deal of enthusiasm, some
marvellous ideas, great and humanitarian ideas, but, after all, there is
something else that is necessary — thought and intellect — to keep everything
safe. Wherever you see the most humanitarian ideas fall into the hands of the
multitude, the first result, you may notice, is degradation. It is learning and
intellect that keep things sure. Now this Buddhism went as the first missionary
religion to the world, penetrated the whole of the civilised world as it existed
at that time, and never was a drop of blood shed for that religion. We read how
in China the Buddhist missionaries were persecuted, and thousands were
massacred by two or three successive emperors, but after that, fortune favoured
the Buddhists, and one of the emperors offered to take vengeance on the
persecutors, but the missionaries refused. All that we owe to this one verse.
That is why I want you to remember it: "Whom they call Indra, Mitra,
Varuna — That which exists is One; sages call It by various names."
It was written, nobody
knows at what date, it may be 8,000 years ago, in spite of all modern scholars
may say, it may be 9,000 years ago. Not one of these religious speculations is
of modern date, but they are as fresh today as they were when they were
written, or rather, fresher, for at that distant date man was not so civilised
as we know him now. He had not learnt to cut his brother's throat because he
differed a little in thought from himself; he had not deluged the world in
blood, he did not become demon to his own brother. In the name of humanity he
did not massacre whole lots of mankind then. Therefore these words come to us
today very fresh, as great stimulating, life-giving words, much fresher than
they were when they were written: "That which exists is One; sages call It
by various names." We have to learn yet that all religions, under whatever
name they may be called, either Hindu, Buddhist, Mohammedan, or Christian, have
the same God, and he who derides any one of these derides his own God.
That was the solution
they arrived at. But, as I have said, this ancient monotheistic idea did not
satisfy the Hindu mind. It did not go far enough, it did not explain the
visible world: a ruler of the world does not explain the world — certainly not.
A ruler of the universe does not explain the universe, and much less an
external ruler, one outside of it. He may be a moral guide, the greatest power
in the universe, but that is no explanation of the universe; and the first
question that we find now arising, assuming proportions, is the question about
the universe: "Whence did it come?" "How did it come?"
"How does it exist?" Various hymns are to be found on this question
struggling forward to assume form, and nowhere do we find it so poetically, so
wonderfully expressed as in the following hymn:
"Then there was
neither aught nor naught, nor air, nor sky, nor anything. What covered all?
Where rested all? Then death was not, nor deathlessness, nor change to night
and day." The translation loses a good deal of the poetical beauty.
"Then death was not, nor deathlessness, nor change to night and day;"
the very sound of the Sanskrit is musical. "That existed, that breath,
covering as it were, that God's existence; but it did not begin to move."
It is good to remember this one idea that it existed motionless, because we
shall find how this idea sprouts up afterwards in the cosmology, how according
to the Hindu metaphysics and philosophy, this whole universe is a mass of
vibrations, as it were, motions; and there are periods when this whole mass of
motions subsides and becomes finer and finer, remaining in that state for some
time. That is the state described in this hymn. It existed unmoved, without
vibration, and when this creation began, this began to vibrate and all this
creation came out of it, that one breath, calm, self-sustained, naught else
beyond it.
"Gloom existed
first." Those of you who have ever been in India or any tropical country,
and have seen the bursting of the monsoon, will understand the majesty of these
words. I remember three poets' attempts to picture this. Milton says, "No
light, but rather darkness visible." Kalidasa says, "Darkness which
can be penetrated with a needle," but none comes near this Vedic
description, "Gloom hidden in gloom." Everything is parching and
sizzling, the whole creation seems to be burning away, and for days it has been
so, when one afternoon there is in one corner of the horizon a speck of cloud,
and in less than half an hour it has extended unto the whole earth, until, as
it were, it is covered with cloud, cloud over cloud, and then it bursts into a
tremendous deluge of rain. The cause of creation was described as will. That
which existed at first became changed into will, and this will began to
manifest itself as desire. This also we ought to remember, because we find that
this idea of desire is said to be the cause of all we have. This idea of will
has been the corner- stone of both the Buddhist and the Vedantic system, and
later on, has penetrated into German philosophy and forms the basis of
Schopenhauer's system of philosophy. It is here we first hear of it.
"Now first arose
desire, the primal seed of mind. Sages, searching in their hearts by wisdom,
found the bond, Between existence and non-existence."
It is a very peculiar
expression; the poet ends by saying that "perhaps He even does not
know." We find in this hymn, apart from its poetical merits, that this
questioning about the universe has assumed quite definite proportions, and that
the minds of these sages must have advanced to such a state, when all sorts of
common answers would not satisfy them. We find that they were not even
satisfied with this Governor above. There are various other hymns where the
same idea, comes in, about how this all came, and just as we have seen, when
they were trying to find a Governor of the universe, a Personal God, they were
taking up one Deva after another, raising him up to that position, so now we
shall find that in various hymns one or other idea is taken up, and expanded
infinitely and made responsible for everything in the universe. One particular
idea is taken as the support, in which everything rests and exists, and that
support has become all this. So on with various ideas. They tried this method
with Prâna, the life principle. They expanded the idea of the life principle
until it became universal and infinite. It is the life principle that is
supporting everything; not only the human body, but it is the light of the sun
and the moon, it is the power moving everything, the universal motive energy.
Some of these attempts are very beautiful, very poetical. Some of them as,
"He ushers the beautiful morning," are marvellously lyrical in the
way they picture things. Then this very desire, which, as we have just read,
arose as the first primal germ of creation, began to be stretched out, until it
became the universal God. But none of these ideas satisfied.
Here the idea is
sublimated and finally abstracted into a personality. "He alone existed in
the beginning; He is the one Lord of all that exists; He supports this
universe; He who is the author of souls, He who is the author of strength, whom
all the gods worship, whose shadow is life, whose shadow is death; whom else
shall we worship? Whose glory the snow-tops of the Himalayas declare, whose
glory the oceans with all their waters proclaim." So on it goes, but, as I
told you just now, this idea did not satisfy them.
At last we find a very
peculiar position. The Aryan mind had so long been seeking an answer to the
question from outside. They questioned everything they could find, the sun, the
moon, and stars, and they found all they could in this way. The whole of nature
at best could teach them only of a personal Being who is the Ruler of the
universe; it could teach nothing further. In short, out of the external world
we can only get the idea of an architect, that which is called the Design
Theory. It is not a very logical argument, as we all know; there is something
childish about it, yet it is the only little bit of anything we can know about
God from the external world, that this world required a builder. But this is no
explanation of the universe. The materials of this world were before Him, and
this God wanted all these materials, and the worst objection is that He must be
limited by the materials. The builder could not have made a house without the
materials of which it is composed. Therefore he was limited by the materials;
he could only do what the materials enabled him to. Therefore the God that the
Design Theory gives is at best only an architect, and a limited architect of
the universe; He is bound and restricted by the materials; He is not
independent at all. That much they had found out already, and many other minds
would have rested at that. In other countries the same thing happened; the
human mind could not rest there; the thinking, grasping minds wanted to go
further, but those that were backward got hold of them and did not allow them
to grow. But fortunately these Hindu sages were not the people to be knocked on
the head; they wanted to get a solution, and now we find that they were leaving
the external for the internal. The first thing that struck them was, that it is
not with the eyes and the senses that we perceive that external world, and know
anything about religion; the first idea, therefore, was to find the deficiency,
and that deficiency was both physical and moral, as we shall see. You do not
know, says one of these sages, the cause of this universe; there has arisen a
tremendous difference between you and me — why? Because you have been talking
sense things and are satisfied with sense-objects and with the mere ceremonials
of religion, while I have known the Purusha beyond.
Along with this
progress of spiritual ideas that I am trying to trace for you, I can only hint
to you a little about the other factor in the growth, for that has nothing to
do with our subject, therefore I need not enlarge upon it — the growth of
rituals. As those spiritual ideas progressed in arithmetical progression, so
the ritualistic ideas progressed in geometrical progression. The old
superstitions had by this time developed into a tremendous mass of rituals,
which grew and grew till it almost killed the Hindu life And it is still there,
it has got hold of and permeated every portion of our life and made us born
slaves. Yet, at the same time, we find a fight against this advance of ritual
from the very earliest days. The one objection raised there is this, that love
for ceremonials, dressing at certain times, eating in a certain way, and shows
and mummeries of religion like these are only external religion, because you
are satisfied with the senses and do not want to go beyond them. This is a
tremendous difficulty with us, with every human being. At best when we want to
hear of spiritual things our standard is the senses; or a man hears things
about philosophy, and God, and transcendental things, and after hearing about
them for days, he asks: After all, how much money will they bring, how much
sense-enjoyment will they bring? For his enjoyment is only in the senses, quite
naturally. But that satisfaction in the senses, says our sage, is one of the
causes which have spread the veil between truth and ourselves. Devotion to
ceremonials, satisfaction in the senses, and forming various theories, have
drawn a veil between ourselves and truth. This is another great landmark, and
we shall have to trace this ideal to the end, and see how it developed later on
into that wonderful theory of Mâyâ of the Vedanta, how this veil will be the
real explanation of the Vedanta, how the truth was there all the time, it was
only this veil that had covered it.
Thus we find that the
minds of these ancient Aryan thinkers had begun a new theme. They found out
that in the external world no search would give an answer to their question.
They might seek in the external world for ages, but there would be no answer to
their questions. So they fell back upon this other method; and according to
this, they were taught that these desires of the senses, desires for ceremonials
and externalities have caused a veil to come between themselves and the truth,
and that this cannot be removed by any ceremonial. They had to fall back on
their own minds, and analyse the mind to find the truth in themselves. The
outside world failed and they turned back upon the inside world, and then it
became the real philosophy of the Vedanta; from here the Vedanta philosophy
begins. It is the foundation-stone of Vedanta philosophy. As we go on, we find
that all its inquiries are inside. From the very outset they seemed to declare
— look not for the truth in any religion; it is here in the human soul, the
miracle of all miracles in the human soul, the emporium of all knowledge, the
mine of all existence — seek here. What is not here cannot be there. And they
found out step by step that that which is external is but a dull reflection at
best of that which is inside. We shall see how they took, as it were, this old
idea of God, the Governor of the universe, who is external to the universe, and
first put Him inside the universe. He is not a God outside, but He is inside;
and they took Him from there into their own hearts. Here He is in the heart of
man, the Soul of our souls, the Reality in us.
Several great ideas
have to be understood, in order to grasp properly the workings of the Vedanta
philosophy. In the first place it is not philosophy in the sense we speak of
the philosophy of Kant and Hegel. It is not one book, or the work of one man.
Vedanta is the name of a series of books written at different times. Sometimes
in one of these productions there will be fifty different things. Neither are
they properly arranged; the thoughts, as it were, have been jotted down.
Sometimes in the midst of other extraneous things, we find some wonderful idea.
But one fact is remarkable, that these ideas in the Upanishads would be always
progressing. In that crude old language, the working of the mind of every one
of the sages has been, as it were, painted just as it went; how the ideas are
at first very crude, and they become finer and finer till they reach the goal
of the Vedanta, and this goal assumes a philosophical name. Just at first it
was a search after the Devas, the bright ones, and then it was the origin of
the universe, and the very same search is getting another name, more
philosophical, clearer — the unity of all things — "Knowing which
everything else becomes known."
SOURCE: The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda; Volume-1
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