SLOKA 112 FROM DANCING WITH SIVA
HOW DO DEVOTEES PREPARE FOR WORSHIP?
We visit a Siva temple after bathing, dressing in clean clothes and preparing an offering, which can be as simple as a few flowers or fruits. We bring the mind to the holy feet of the Deity even as preparations begin. Aum.
BHASHYA
Visiting the home of God Siva or of a God, the temple, is not without its trepidation, protocol and proper conduct, preceded by preparation that we administrate ourselves. Our worship is only as meaningful and effective as we make it. Before we attend or conduct a puja, we should carefully bathe the body, rinse the mouth and dress in fresh clothing–saris for women and dhotis or veshtis and shawls for men where this is the custom. Throughout these preparations we may sing hymns or chant mantras or God’s holy names silently or aloud, taking care to keep the mind free from worldly matters. We then gather offerings for the Deity. If mealtime is near, we eat only after puja has been concluded. Although the outer details of our worship are important, it is our inner feelings and thoughts, our love and devotion, which are the truest offering we can make. The Vedas testify, ”The Gods, led by the spirit, honor faith in their worship. Faith is composed of the heart’s intention. Light comes through faith. Through faith men come to prayer, faith in the morning, faith at noon and at the setting of the sun. O faith, give us faith!” Aum Namah Sivaya.
LESSON 267 FROM LIVING WITH SIVA
THE HINDU WAY: TO DO NO HARM
Hindu wisdom, which inspires humans to live the ideals of compassion and nonviolence, is captured in one word, ahimsa. In Sanskrit himsa is doing harm or causing injury. The ”a” placed before the word negates it. Very simply, ahimsa is abstaining from causing harm or injury. It is gentleness and noninjury, whether physical, mental or emotional. It is good to know that nonviolence speaks only to the most extreme forms of forceful wrongdoing, while ahimsa goes much deeper to prohibit even the subtle abuse and the simple hurt.
In his commentary on the Yoga Sutras, Sage Vyasa defines ahimsa as ”the absence of injuriousness (anabhidroha) toward all living beings (sarvabhuta) in all respects (sarvatha) and for all times (sarvada).” He noted that a person who draws near one engaged in the true practice of ahimsa would be freed from all enmity. Similarly, Patanjali (ca 200 bce) regards ahimsa as the yogi’s mahavrata, the great vow and foremost spiritual discipline, which those seeking Truth must follow strictly and without fail. This was not meant merely to condemn killing, but extended to harm caused by one’s thoughts, words and deeds of all kinds–including injury to the natural environment. Even the intent to injure, even violence committed in a dream, is a violation of the principle of ahimsa.
Every belief creates certain attitudes. Those attitudes govern all of our actions. Man’s actions can thus be traced to his inmost beliefs about himself and about the world around him. If those beliefs are erroneous, his actions will not be in tune with the universal dharma. For instance, the belief in the existence of an all-pervasive Divinity throughout the universe creates an attitude of reverence, benevolence and compassion for all animate and inanimate beings. The natural consequence of this belief is ahimsa, nonhurtfulness. The belief in the duality of heaven and hell, the light forces and the dark forces, creates the attitude that we must be on our guard, and that we are justified in inflicting injury, physically and emotionally, on others whom we judge to be bad, pagan or unworthy for other reasons. Such thinking leads to rationalizing so-called righteous wars and conflicts. We can sum this up from the Hindu, Buddhist and Jain traditions: ahimsa is higher consciousness, and himsa, hurtfulness, is lower consciousness.
Devout Hindus oppose killing for several reasons. Belief in karma and reincarnation are strong forces at work in the Hindu mind. They full well know that any thought, feeling or action sent out from themself to another will return to them through yet another in equal or amplified intensity. What we have done to others will be done to us, if not in this life then in another. The Hindu is thoroughly convinced that violence which he commits will return to him by a cosmic process that is unerring. Two thousand years ago South India’s weaver saint Tiruvalluvar said it so simply, ”All suffering recoils on the wrongdoer himself. Thus, those desiring not to suffer refrain from causing others pain” (Tirukural 320). A similar view can be found in the Jain Acharanga Sutra: ”To do harm to others is to do harm to oneself. You are he whom you intend to kill. You are he whom you intend to dominate. We corrupt ourselves as soon as we intend to corrupt others. We kill ourselves as soon as we intend to kill others.”
SUTRA 267 OF THE NANDINATHA SUTRAS
AN ELITE AND STEADFAST ASSOCIATION
All within my Saiva Siddhanta Church are stalwart and dedicated. Not one is half-hearted or equivocal. Each is a jewel, important to me and to each other. Thus, strictness is necessary when accepting new members. Aum.
LESSON 267 FROM MERGING WITH SIVA
DISTINGUISHING THE TWO PATHS
There are two traditional paths for the devout Hindu of nearly every lineage. The first is the path of the renunciate. The second is the path of the householder, who guides human society and produces the next generation. The ancient rishis evolved well-defined principles for both, knowing that unmarried aspirants would most easily unfold by adhering to principles of nonownership, noninvolvement in the world and brahmacharya, while married men and women would uphold the more complex and material family dharma. Though the principles or guidelines for these two paths are different, the goal is the same–to establish a life dedicated to spiritual unfoldment, hastening the evolution of the soul through knowledge of the forces at work within us, and wise, consistent application of that knowledge.
In our Holy Orders of Sannyasa, the two lifestyles of Hindu renunciates are described as follows. ”Some among them are sadhus, anchorites living in the seclusion of distant caves and remote forests or wandering as homeless mendicants, itinerant pilgrims to the holy sanctuaries of Saivism. Others dwell as cenobites, assembled with their brothers, often in the ashram, aadheenam or matha of their satguru, but always under the guru’s aegis, serving together in fulfillment of a common mission. These devotees, when initiated into the order of sannyasa, don the saffron robes and thereby bind themselves to a universal body of Hindu renunciates, numbering today three million, whose existence has never ceased, an assembly of men inwardly linked in Sivasambandha, their mutual dedication to Siva, though not necessarily outwardly associated.”
We can thus see that in the strictest traditions, the renunciate path includes only those who have received initiation, sannyasa diksha, from a qualified preceptor, for only they have fully and irrevocably renounced the world and closed off all other options for their future. However, depending on the tradition, the renunciate path broadly includes the wandering sadhu, or homeless mendicant, and the sadhaka under vows preparing for sannyasa at some future time.
We have studied the three primary currents in the human nerve system. The aggressive-intellectual current is masculine, mental in nature and psychically seen as blue in color. This current is termed in Sanskrit pingala. The passive-physical current is feminine, material in nature. This current, which is pink or red, is known as ida. The third current is spiritual in nature and flows directly through the spine and into the head. Being yellowish-white, the sushumna, as it is called, is the channel for pure spiritual energies that flood into the body through the spine and out into the 6,000 miles of nerve currents. Depending on the nature and dharma, each individual’s energy expresses itself as predominantly physical or intellectual–passive or aggressive–or spiritual. However, in the sannyasin the two forces are so precisely balanced that neither is dominant, and he therefore lives almost totally in sushumna. The monastic, whether a monk or a nun, is in a sense neither male nor female, but a being capable of all modes of expression.
At times, the renunciate’s sadhana is austere, as he burns layer after layer of dross through severe tapas. He wears the saffron robe, studies the ancient ways and scriptures. He chants the sacred mantras. He reflects constantly on the Absolute. He lives from moment to moment, day to day. He is always available, present, open. He has neither likes nor dislikes, but clear perceptions.
