Definition of a Devotee # 11

11

"There are three categories of bhaktas," replied Vishvarupe. "The highest among them demonstrates exceptional proficiency in the study and dissemination of essential Scriptures. Such a devotee is skilled at presenting conclusive truths with consummate wisdom and at insightfully exploring the paths of devotion. With full awareness and understanding, he realizes that the ultimate purpose of life is to attain the sublime loving service offered to Krishna.

This first-class bhakta, in their early stages, adhered rigorously to the various regulatory principles prescribed by the Scriptures under the guidance of a bona fide spiritual master, to whom they displayed unwavering loyalty. They are regarded as first-class bhakta because, having received perfect training, they are capable of teaching others and becoming a spiritual master themselves.

Without ever deviating from the standards established by spiritual authorities, and through various deductions and reasonings —always grounded in the Scriptures— such a person develops unwavering faith in them. They have no interest in the barren and futile paths of speculation. In short, a first-class bhakta is one who has cultivated an unshakable determination in the practice of loving service to God.

A second-class bhakta is characterized by the following traits: although lacking particular skill in convincing others based on scriptural precepts, they nonetheless possess firm faith in the ultimate goal. Or, to put it another way, despite the strength of their faith, they are not always able to translate it into decisive arguments that would establish the truth of the Scriptures when facing a potential opponent. Nevertheless, they hold an inner certainty that Krishna is the Supreme Object of worship.

The third-class bhakta, the neophyte, possesses neither firm conviction nor significant knowledge of the Scriptures, and their wavering faith can easily be shaken by opposing arguments. Like the second-class devotees, they lack skill in employing the truths and arguments found in the Scriptures, but they also lack resolute faith in the ultimate goal.

The Bhagavad-gita goes further in its description of the neophyte, categorizing them into four types: the distressed, the curious, the seeker of wealth, and the wise person who desires to know the Absolute. These four engage in the practice of devotional service and approach the Lord with the aim of satisfying their personal interests. They visit places of worship and pray to God either to alleviate their material sufferings, to increase their wealth, or simply to satisfy their curiosity.

Among the neophytes, one also finds the person who possesses the initial wisdom to recognize the greatness of God. However, any neophyte can rise to the second and even the first level if they come into contact with pure bhaktas.

An example of a neophyte bhakta is offered in the person of Maharaja Dhruva, who initially undertook the practice of devotion to obtain his father’s kingdom. Yet, once completely purified, he refused to accept any material blessings from the Lord.

Similarly, Gajendra, who prayed to Krishna for protection in his time of distress, later became a pure bhakta. We can also mention Sanaka, Sanatana, Sananda, and Sanat-kumara, all virtuous sages, who too developed an attraction for devotional service. Likewise, the sages of the Naimisharanya forest, led by Saunaka Rishi, sought to learn continuously about Krishna from Suta Goswami. Through their association with Suta, a pure bhakta, they were able to benefit from his presence and themselves become pure devotees of the Lord.

Such is the path of spiritual progress. Regardless of one’s current condition, if one has the good fortune to come into contact with pure bhaktas, one quickly ascends to higher realms of love for God.”

The devotees sitting there rejoice, shouting cries of ecstasy: "Haribol! Haribol!" Hours pass, but no one wishes to return home, nor does anyone want to leave the group. When Vishvarupe speaks, even Advaita Acharya sets aside his worship and rituals.

Meanwhile, Mother Sachidevi, noticing that her eldest son has not returned for supper, sends Nimai to fetch him. Nimai doesn’t need much convincing; he loves visiting Shrivas’ house. He knows he will meet Mukunda, the renowned singer; Advaita Acharya; his friend, the merchant Kolavesha Sridhar; Murari Gupta, the Ayurvedic doctor he always enjoys teasing with his arguments; and others who are dear to him. The gathering of these pure souls fills him with delight. Nothing pleases him more. But he will not let it show —his time has not yet come.

In return, the sight of this extraordinary boy, covered in dust, bare-chested, and radiant like a summer full moon, always brings a sense of joy to this group thirsting for transcendence.

Breaking the silence he unknowingly created, he makes his way to his brother through the cross-legged audience members, paying no heed to the affectionate remarks directed at him. He stops in front of his brother and declares, "Mother sent me to fetch you for dinner."

But, as always, Vishvarupe makes him wait: "Just give me a minute, let me finish my point, and then we'll head home," he replies, focused on his topic. "Krishna is described as akhila-rasamrita-sindhu," he continues. "Indeed, there are different rasas.* This term refers to the emotion or flavor evoked within us by each of our activities, for we act based on taste. Truly, everything we do must bring us some degree of pleasure.

Thus, we have the example of Bhismadeva. We know that Duryodhana once criticized Bhismadeva on the battlefield of Kurukshetra: ‘My dear grandfather, in the opposing camp are your grandsons, for whom you naturally have great affection. I believe, therefore, that you are not exerting all your strength against Arjuna; otherwise, he and his brothers would have already been annihilated.’ Bhismadeva then understood the meaning of his reproach and immediately made a promise to him: ‘Know that from tomorrow I will kill these five brothers. I am reserving five arrows specifically for this purpose. Will you finally be satisfied?’

But Duryodhana had doubts and asked Bhismadeva to hand over the five arrows to him so that he could keep them safe until the next day, to which the grandfather agreed. Krishna, on his part, could understand that Bhismadeva had made a promise to Duryodhana and that he possessed five arrows intended to kill the Pandavas. Wanting to protect his devotees, he said to Arjuna: 'Duryodhana once promised you that he would grant you anything you asked for; go see him. I know he has five arrows in his possession which he guards very carefully, and I want you to ask for them.’

Arjuna thus made his way to Duryodhana. For after each day of battle, warriors gathered as brothers; each could wander into the enemy's camp and spend the evening in the company of fellow combatants, with no trace of hostility. So, when Arjuna appeared, Duryodhana welcomed him according to Vedic etiquette: ‘Arjuna! What brings you here? Ask what you will, for I am ready to grant it. If it's the kingdom without bloodshed that you seek, if that's why you've come, then so be it.’ But Arjuna replied: ‘No, my brother, that is not the purpose of my visit. Perhaps you recall offering me a boon; it's that which I've come to claim.’ ‘Very well,’ said Duryodhana. It was then that Arjuna asked for the five arrows Duryodhana guarded so fiercely: Duryodhana handed them over without delay.

The tale tells us that the next morning, when Bhismadeva asked for his five arrows, Duryodhana had to confess they had been taken by Arjuna. The grandfather then realized it was a trick of Krishna's, and in accordance with his devotional bond to the Lord, he was filled with anger. For devotional service can also be performed with feelings of anger, not just with offerings of flowers. Thus, a bhakta can serve Krishna through wrath.

Bhismadeva, in that very moment, vowed to force Krishna to break his promise of not fighting that day. Krishna indeed had pledged not to engage in combat himself on the battlefield but only to drive Arjuna's chariot. Bhismadeva thought that since Krishna had compelled him to break his vow, he would fight with such fervor that Krishna would be forced to break his own or witness the death of his friend Arjuna. This was the choice he left him.

During the next battle, Bhismadeva unleashed such might in combat that Arjuna's chariot shattered, casting him to the ground. It was then that Krishna seized one of the chariot wheels to hurl at Bhisma. But as he charged, Bhisma pierced him with arrows, and Krishna received these strikes with more joy than if they had been flowers. This is one of the rasas, known as the emotion of horror.

One might find it violent to pierce the Lord's body with arrows in such a manner, but Krishna derived pleasure from it. A learned sage has aptly explained this episode with the analogy of a kiss. For in a kiss, the teeth sometimes apply great pressure on the skin, yet it remains a source of pleasure. Likewise, though pierced by Bhismadeva's arrows, Krishna felt immense satisfaction. A satisfaction shared by Bhisma. As he lay on his deathbed, he longed to see once more that form of Krishna, filled with great anger, who had rushed towards him to kill him.

It turns out, then, that one can experience the loving service offered to Krishna in myriad ways, not only through the embraces of the gopis but also in the battle between Bhisma and the Lord. Thus, Krishna is called akhila-rassamrta because He is capable of responding to any rasa we wish to share with Him. Such is the position of the Lord.

Even a witch like Putana, who intended to poison Krishna, was elevated to the status of the Lord's mother when he suckled at her breast, drawing out both her milk and her life force. Krishna thought: 'Regardless of her intentions, she came to me as a mother and allowed me to nurse; therefore, she is my mother.' In truth, she had presented herself as an enemy, but Krishna overlooked that aspect of her being, seeing only her maternal side, the favorable aspect.

Similarly, the gopis came to Krishna driven by lust, but through this lust, they were purified. Krishna acts like the sun that evaporates water, even if it is urine, without being defiled; on the contrary, it is the urine that is thus sterilized. Therefore, one should approach Krishna in some way or another to perfect one's existence, regardless of the means used.

And what can be said of those united to the Lord by constant love! Everything becomes love from the moment one turns towards Krishna. That is the definition of love. But this love can be perverted, as was the case with Kamsa. He was always thinking of Krishna, certainly, and in that sense, one could say he was Krishna conscious; but he only thought of killing Krishna, seeing Him as his enemy. Therefore, this was not bhakti, as his sentiment was not favorable. However, Krishna is so benevolent that He granted liberation even to him. This illustrates Krishna's unique kindness.” **

Vishvarupa could continue in this manner all night, and Nimai would then have to grab him by his garment, repeat the order received from their mother, and drag him out until they were alone in the night. He is accustomed to this. However, tonight, the task will be easier. Before leaving the house, he noticed a sage who had just arrived and wished to see his father. He uses this as a pretext: "A man of God, whose aura commands veneration, is a guest in our home. By his attire, I saw he is not from around here."

Then, emerging from a powerful enchantment, Vishvarupa delights in returning with his younger brother, a source of ineffable joy.

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* Not to be confused with the rasa dance.
** From a lecture on "The Nectar of Devotion" given by Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada in 1972, in India. The author has put these words into Vishvarupa's mouth.

Preceding chapter: Vishvarupa, Nimai's Brother # 10
Next chapter: The Call of Sannyasa # 12