He Who Thought He Had Won # 32

32

All the disciples of exegesis, as well as the influential figures of the city, had come to benefit from the discourse. By contrast, Chaitanya’s associates were frustrated: the seminar was a constraint imposed upon their master.

During the long lectures, Chaitanya showed no sign of weariness. He was always punctual in the early morning and never in a hurry to withdraw when evening came. Sitting cross-legged, his posture upright, he was all eyes and ears, fully attentive to the teachings of the sacred book.

However, after seven consecutive days, Sarvabhauma could no longer remain indifferent to his student’s silence. In the composure he displayed, he thought he detected a lack of interest in his teaching. Or was it an intellectual incapacity? In any case, he interrupted his discourse and asked:

“Tell me, you have been here for several days listening to my interpretation of the Vedanta without ever asking a single question. I would gladly continue to teach you, but since you never express yourself, I cannot know whether you understand or not. I have addressed complex subjects that are the cause of so many disputes among philosophers, and you remain there, silent, without indicating whether you are assimilating my words.

—I am a fool, which is why, in fact, I do not study the Vedas. I am doing so on this occasion only because you ordered me to. You insisted that it is the duty of a sannyasi to sit and listen to the Scriptures. However, I must admit,” he added hesitantly, “uh… to be frank, I understood nothing of your presentation. I’m sorry.”

Sarvabhauma shook his head in disapproval. He closed his eyes, took a long breath of air, and slowly exhaled. Then he said in a dejected tone:

“Listen, without wishing to offend you, I believe you should be more perceptive. I have been lecturing for an entire week, and only now do you confess that you understand nothing?!”

With difficulty, he restrained his anger. In the audience, people were scandalized by the attitude of this profane sannyasi, who had motivated this gathering and was not even worthy of grasping the teachings of such a prestigious master.

“Besides your difficulty in assimilating my explanations—which is forgivable, given the complexity of the subject—you announce with nonchalance that you have understood nothing! Explain yourself, I beg you, for you are undoubtedly capable of reasoning. On many occasions, I have received complaints from the city authorities concerning your way of conceiving society, a so-called philosophy that… But come on, speak, explain yourself!

— In fact, Master, I understand very well the meaning of these verses: they are explicit in themselves.”

Chaitanya had grown more serious; his voice had shed the modest tone he usually adopted before his superiors. Still respectful, he revealed the depth of his thoughts:

“It is your paraphrase… Please forgive me if I speak this way: it obscures the Scriptures like a cloud of obscurantism. The Vedānta-sūtra is a summary of the Upanishads; one can therefore find in it all the necessary explanations without resorting to indirect and imaginary interpretations.

Although other sources of knowledge exist to support our claims—such as hypothesis, history, direct perception, or experience—all these paths remain doubtful, for they may be altered by the innate imperfections of man: his imperfect senses, his tendency toward illusion, to commit errors, and to deceive others.

Because of these four imperfections, one must be wary of a philosopher’s assertions, even when, at first glance, they appear well founded. An interpretation cannot be considered evidence in itself, but rather a confirmation of that evidence.”

“For this reason, man must recognize the authority of the Scriptures as incontrovertible, even when their meaning sometimes escapes our understanding. For example, excrement and bones are unquestionably impure substances, yet the Vedas state that the conch shell, although it is the skeleton of an animal, as well as cow dung, are pure. Whatever the Scriptures declare must be accepted as such.

On the other hand, if one questions their authority by surrendering their meaning to one’s imagination, one risks losing everything.”

Sarvabhauma could barely restrain himself. He was on the verge of bursting out and denouncing this blasphemer, yet an indefinable feeling compelled him to listen. He knew these arguments, but he was troubled by the way Chaitanya had chosen to express his disagreement:

“For seven days,” he thought, “he let me speak, pretending to be a student! Now he has revealed himself… Let us see how far he will push his audacity and what he truly has in his mind. I am facing a completely different person from the humble sannyasi I met in the temple. Still, I must admit that his conduct has been impeccable. If he challenges me now, he must have his reasons.”

Chaitanya continued:

“The writings compiled by Vyasa are as brilliant as the sun, and whoever interprets them covers them with dark speculations. The Vedas present two aspects of the Absolute Truth: sometimes they describe it as impersonal, sometimes as personal. Only by considering both aspects can one truly understand it.

But in your exposition, you have described only its impersonal aspect, which would repel any genuine theist. One who does not accept the spiritual form of the Lord is an agnostic and should be avoided. Buddhists, who do not recognize the authority of the Vedas, are also agnostics.

As for those who profess allegiance to the Vedic Scriptures while preaching empiricism according to the philosophy of māyāvāda, they are even more dangerous than the Buddhists. Vyasadeva compiled the Scriptures for the benefit of conditioned souls. Yet, judging from your commentaries, based on the teachings of Adi Shankara, every chance of realizing our true identity is destroyed.”

Chaitanya grounded his arguments in scriptures such as the Upanishads, the Puranas, and the Mahabharata, especially the chapter of the Bhagavad-gita. He insisted that all of them tend to prove that God possesses a form and unlimited attributes, and that the only way to attain complete understanding of this Absolute Truth is to engage in practical loving service, not through austerities, empiricism, or knowledge for its own sake.

Sarvabhauma naturally attempted to counter Chaitanya’s reasoning, but he did nothing more than collide with his relentless logic. Clearing his throat, he said:

“By criticizing my teaching, you are slandering that of the illustrious Adi Shankara, for I merely rely upon his doctrine. You should not stigmatize him in this way unless you can surpass him, and I do not…”

— “Oh no!” Chaitanya interrupted. “You misunderstand me. On the contrary, I respect Sankara Acharya as an exemplary devotee of the Lord. He cannot be blamed, for he merely followed God’s command, which instructed him to formulate an atheistic version of the Scriptures while infusing them with their essence.

There is a verse in the Padma Purana in which the Supreme Person addresses Shiva: ‘Please turn the people against Me through your interpretation of the Vedas and lead them to be more interested in material progress than in the search for their true identity.’

In that same section, Shiva tells his wife Durga that he will appear in the Age of Kali in the form of a brahmana and give the Scriptures an atheistic explanation, resembling Buddhist philosophy upon superficial examination. That same Shiva is none other than Sankara himself…”

Sarvabhauma was astonished to hear all this. He stood speechless. Seeing him in that state, Chaitanya reassured him:

“Please, there is no cause for concern, for devotional service is the most sublime activity one can offer to the Lord; it represents the perfection of human life. This is confirmed by a famous verse from the Srimad Bhagavatam:

‘Great souls who take pleasure in contemplation, and especially those who are fully realized, though beyond dualities and material bondage, experience unlimited joy in serving the Supreme Person with devotion. This is because the Lord’s beauty, opulence, power, knowledge, renunciation, and fame captivate beings of all backgrounds and all levels, even those who are liberated.’”

Sarvabhauma, who knew this verse well, having commented on it many times, then asked Chaitanya to present his own interpretation.

“I will silence him,” he thought.

Sanskrit is a complex language. Only the most determined and most qualified succeed in completing the rigorous training that lasts a good dozen years. They may become capable of mastering its extraordinary grammatical complexity, yet it is another feat altogether to penetrate its inner mysteries. For in this ancient language—divine language, language of the gods—a single word can take on multiple meanings depending on its declension, its context, or its position in the sentence.

In this particular verse, the word ātma, the soul, may refer equally to the Absolute Truth, the body, the mind, endurance, intelligence, or the intrinsic nature of the being, which is to serve. Munayaḥ, for its part, may designate thinkers, grave or silent men, ascetics, persevering souls, mendicants, sages, or even humanity in general. In short, this verse of eleven words, with its complex combinatory potential, takes on a distinct meaning with each analysis.

Out of humility, Chaitanya asked Sarvabhauma to present his interpretations first, in view of his seniority. Eager to take the upper hand, the distinguished master complied with great skill: he knew nine different versions. It would be too long to reproduce his entire thesis here, but given his reputation in the field of dialectics and his position as chief priest of the Jagannath Temple, one could be certain that his exegesis was rich in meaning.

Yet Chaitanya was not impressed. The faint smile that appeared on his face at the end of the imposing exposition made the pandit shudder. From that moment on, he realized that he could no longer take him for a fool. He understood what this implied, and his heart began to race with apprehension. Though he had always been confident, paradoxical impressions—mingling uncertainty, provocation, fear, and curiosity—now disturbed him.

Only Chaitanya and his companions sensed his anxiety, while the audience attributed his pallor to excessive tolerance and to his astonishment at the audacity of his interlocutor, who, not content with disturbing public order, had set out to challenge the greatest teacher of grammar and logic.

After listening patiently, Chaitanya thanked him:

“There is no doubt, you are the equal of Brihaspati, the priest of the celestial planets. No one in this world can speak on the Scriptures with such ease. You certainly enjoy the blessings of the goddess of knowledge, for you are able to present so many philosophical versions and grammatical combinations.

Nevertheless, with your permission, I would like to add a few more interpretations. But I will not alter yours,” he added.

Having said this, Chaitanya analyzed each word in relation to the main term of the verse in eighteen different ways and concluded that there is no end to such elucidations, for the qualities and attributes of the Lord are unlimited.

Preceding chapter : Will Sarvabhauma Be Taken to Task? # 31