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The Science of Religion

Swami Yogananda · 1925 · Free in the US

19,201 words · about 1 h 21 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
Swami Yogananda
Language
English
Published
1925
Length
19,201 words · about 1 h 21 min
Sections
5 reader sections
Text
Digital text
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (5)
  1. Front matter about 2 min
  2. Preface about 6 min
  3. Chapter 1 about 40 min
  4. Chapter 2 about 21 min
  5. Chapter 3 about 11 min

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Front matter

BY

SWAMI YOGANANDA, A.B.

Founder of Mt. Washington Educational Center, Los Angeles Ranchi and Puri Brahmacharya Residential Schools in India Sat-Sanga (Fellowship with Truth), Boston Sat-Sanga Summer School, Waltham Vice-President: Sadhu Sabha, India Delegate from India to International Congress of Religions Boston, 1920

Preface

PREFACE

This book is intended to give, in bare outline, what we should understand by religion, in order to make it universally and pragmatically necessary. It also seeks to present that aspect of the idea of the God-head which has a direct bearing on the motives and actions of every minute of our lives. It is true that God is Infinite in His nature and aspect, and it is also true that to prepare a chart detailing, so far as is consistent with reason, what God is like is only an evidence of the limitations of the human mind in its attempt to fathom God. Still it is equally true that the human mind, in spite of all its drawbacks, can not rest perfectly satisfied with what is finite. It has a natural urge to interpret what is human and finite in the light of what is super-human and infinite,—what it feels but can not express, what within it lies implicit but under circumstances refuses to be explicit.

Our ordinary conception of God is that He is Super-human, Infinite, Omnipresent, Omniscient, and the like. In this general conception there are many variations. Some call God Personal, some Impersonal, and so forth. The point emphasized in this book is that whatever conception we have of God, if it does not influence our daily conduct, if every-day life does not find an inspiration from it, and if it is not found universally necessary, then that conception is worse than useless. If God is not conceived in such a way that we can not do without Him in the satisfaction of a want, in our dealings with people, in earning money, in reading a book, in passing an examination, in the doing of the most trifling or the highest duties, then it is better we should act discreetly, taking His useless name less into churches and temples. God may be Infinite, Omnipresent, Omniscient, Personal, Merciful, or anything, but these conceptions are not sufficiently compelling to make us try to know God. We may as well do without Him. He may be Infinite, Omnipresent, and so forth, but we have no immediate and practical use for those conceptions in our busy, rushing lives. We fall back on those conceptions only when we seek to justify, in philosophical and poetical writings, in art or in warmed-up, idealistic talks, the finite craving for something beyond; when we, with all our vaunted knowledge, are at a loss to explain some of the most common phenomena of the universe; or when we get stranded in the vicissitudes of the world. “We pray to the Ever-Merciful when we get stuck,” as the Eastern maxim has it. Except for all this, we seem to get along all right in our work-a-day world without Him. These conceptions appear to be the safety-valves of our pent-up human thought. They explain Him, but do not make us seek Him. They lack motive power. We are not necessarily seeking God when we call Him Infinite, Omnipresent, All-Merciful, and so forth. These conceptions satisfy our intellect, but do not soothe our soul. If respected and cherished at heart, they may broaden us to a certain extent—may make us moral and resigned towards Him. But they do not make God our own—they are not intimate enough. They place Him aloof from everyday concern of the world. These conceptions savor of outlandishness when we are on the street, in a factory, behind a counter, or in an office. Not because we are really dead to God and religion, but because we lack a proper conception of them—a conception that can be interwoven with the fabric of daily life. What we conceive of God should be of daily, nay hourly, guidance to us. The very conception of God should stir us to seek Him in the midst of our daily lives. This is what we mean by a pragmatic and compelling conception of God. We should take religion and God out of the sphere of belief into that of daily life. If we do not emphasize the necessity of God in every aspect of our lives and the need of religion in every minute of our existence, then God and religion drop out of our intimate daily consideration and become only a one-day-in-a-week affair. In the first chapter of this work the attempt has been made to show that in order to understand the real necessity of God and religion we must throw emphasis on that conception of both which is most relevant to the chief aim of our daily and hourly actions.

This book has also attempted to show the universality and unity of Religion. There have been different religions at different ages. There have been heated controversy, long warfare, and much bloodshed over them. One religion stood against another, one sect fought with another. Not only is there a variety in religions, but there is also a wide diversity of sects and opinions within the same religion. But the question arises, when there is one God, why there should be so many religions? It may be argued that particular stages of intellectual growth and special types of mentality belonging to certain nations, due to different geographical locations and other extraneous circumstances, determine the origin of different religions, such as Hinduism and Buddhism, for the Indians and the Asia tics, Mohammedanism for the Arabs (at least at its beginning,) Christianity for the Westerners, and so forth. If by Religion we understand only practices, particular tenets, dogmas, customs and conventions, then there may be ground for the existence of so many religions; but if Religion means, primarily, God-consciousness, or the realization of God both within and without, which it really does; secondarily, a body of beliefs, tenets, and dogmas, then, strictly speaking, there is but one Religion in the world, for there is but one God; and different customs, forms of worship, tenets, and conventions may be held to form the grounds for the origin of different denominations and sects included under that one Religion. If Religion is understood in this way, then and then only can its universality be maintained, for we can not possibly universalize particular customs or conventions. Only the element common to all the so-called religions can be universalized. We can ask every one to follow that. Then can it be truly said that Religion is not only necessary but it is universal, as well. Everyone must follow the same religion, for there is but one, its universal element being one and the same. Only its customs and conventions differ.

I have tried to show in this book that as God is one, necessary for all of us, so Religion is one, necessary and universal. Only the roads to it may differ in some respects at the beginning. As a matter of fact, it is ludicrous to say that there are two religions, when there is but one God. There may be two denominations or sects, but there is only one Religion. What we now call different religions should be known as different denominations or sects under that one universal Religion. And what we now know as different denominations or sects should be specified as different branch cults or creeds. If we once know the meaning of the word “Religion,” which we are going to discuss by and by, we shall naturally be very circumspect in the use of it. It is only the limited human point of view that overlooks the underlying universal element in the so-called different religions of the world, and this overlooking has been the cause of many evils.

This book gives a psychological definition of Religion, not an objective definition based on dogmas or tenets. In other words, it seeks to make Religion a question of our whole inward being and attitude; and not a mere observance of certains rules and precepts, nor an intellectual aquiescence, either, in certain beliefs about God, the universe, and so forth. On this psychological ground its universality has been established. I have also discussed the merits and demerits of the different methods required to be followed for the attainment of that religious consciousness which is here set forth.

In conclusion it should be remembered that when the theory and practice of Religion are poles apart, we must not stop at the theory and lose energy over comment or criticism thereon, leaving out of sight the practical aspect of it that alone can lead to its true understanding. The verification of a theory lies in practice. If a practice truly followed is found at last to militate against the theory, then, and not till then, may the theory be safely rejected.

Chapter 1

CHAPTER I

The Universality, Necessity, and Oneness of Religion: The Distinction between Pleasure, Pain, and Bliss: God

First we must know what Religion is, then only can we judge whether it is necessary for all of us to be religious.

Without necessity there is no action. Every action of ours has an end of its own for which we perform it. People of the world act variously to accomplish various ends. There is a multiplicity of ends determining the actions of men in the world.

But is there any common and universal end of all the actions of all the people of the world? Is there any common, highest necessity for all of us which prompts us to all actions? A little analysis of the motives and ends of men’s actions in the world shows that, though

there are a thousand and one proximate or immediate ends of men in regard to the particular calling or profession which they take up, the ultimate end which all other ends merely subserve comes to be the avoidance of pain and want and the attainment of permanent Bliss. Whether we can at all permanently avoid pain and want and get Bliss is a separate question, but as a matter of fact, in all our actions, we obviously try to avoid the former and get the latter. Why does a man act as a probationer? Because he wishes to become an expert in a certain business. Why does he engage in that particular business? Because money can be earned therein. Why should money be earned at all? Because it will put an end to personal and family wants. Why must wants be fulfilled? Because pain will thereby be removed and Bliss or happiness be gained. As a matter of fact, happiness and Bliss are not the same thing. We all aim at Bliss, but through a great blunder we imagine pleasure and happiness to be Bliss. How that has come to be so will be shown presently. The ultimate motive is really Bliss, which we feel inwardly; but happiness—or pleasure—has taken its place, through our great blunder, and the latter has come to be regarded as the ultimate motive. That this is a perversion will later be obvious, though for convenience these terms may sometimes be here used interchangeably.

Thus we see that the fulfillment of some want, removal of some pain, physical or mental, from the slightest to the acutest, and the attainment of Bliss, form our ultimate end. We can not question further why Bliss is to be gained, for no answer can be given. That is our ultimate end, no matter what we do—enter a business, earn money, seek friends, write books, acquire knowledge, rule kingdoms, donate millions, explore countries, look for fame, help the needy, become philanthropists, or embrace martyrdom. And it will be shown that the seeking of God becomes a real fact to us when that end is kept rigorously in view. Millions may be the steps, myriads may be the intermediate acts and motives; but the ultimate motive is always the same—to attain permanent Bliss, even though it be through a long chain of actions. Man likes to and has to go along the chain to get to the final end. He commits suicide to end some pain, perpetrates murder to get rid of some form of want or pain or some cruel heart-thrust. He thinks he will thereby attain a real satisfaction or relief, which he mistakes for Bliss. But the point to notice is that here, too, is the same working (though wrongly) towards the ultimate end.

Some one may say, “I do not care anything about pleasure or happiness; I live life to accomplish something, to achieve success.” Another says: “I want to do good in the world. I do not care whether I am in pain or not.” But if you look into the minds of these people also, you will find that there is the same working towards the goal of happiness. Does the first want a success that has in its achievement no pleasure or happiness? Does the second want to do good to others, yet himself get no happiness in doing it? Obviously not. They may not mind a thousand and one physical pains or mental sufferings inflicted by others or arising out of situations incidental to the pursuit of success or the doing of good to others; but because the one finds great satisfaction in success, and the other intensely enjoys the happiness of doing good to others the former seeks success, and the latter others’ good, in spite of minor troubles.

Even the most altruistic motive, the sincerest intention of advancing the good of humanity for its own sake, have sprung from the basic urge for a chastened personal happiness, approaching Bliss. But it is not the happiness of a narrow self-seeker. It is the happiness of a broad seeker of that “pure self” that is in you and me and all. This happiness is Bliss, a little alloyed. So with Pure Bliss as a personal motive for altruistic action, the altruist is not laying himself open to the charge of narrow selfishness, for one can not himself have Pure Bliss unless he is broad enough to wish and seek it for others, too. That is the world law.

So if the motives for the actions of all men are traced further and further back, the ultimate motive will be found to be the same with all—the removal of pain and the attainment of Bliss. This end being universal, it must be looked upon as the most necessary one. And what is universal and most necessary for man is, of course, religion to him. Hence religion necessarily consists in the permanent removal of pain and the realization of Bliss or God. And the actions which we must adopt for the permanent avoidance of pain and the realization of Bliss or God are called religious. If we understand religion in this way, then its universality becomes obvious. For no one can deny that he wants to avoid pain permanently and attain permanent Bliss. This must be universally admitted, since none can gainsay its truth. Man’s very existence is bound up with it. If he says he does not want Religion, he must needs say he does not like existence, which he can not possibly do. For existence means struggle, which in ultimate analysis means satisfying of wants, that one may attain Bliss. And this is what we understand by Religion.

You want to live because you love Religion. Even if you committed suicide it would be because you love Religion, too; for by doing that you think you will attain a happier state than you find while living. At any rate, you think you will be rid of some pain that is bothering you. In this case your religion is crude—too crude to bear the name of religion. But it is Religion, just the same. Your goal is perfectly right, the same that all persons have. For both you and they want to get happiness, or Bliss. But your means are ridiculous. Because of your ignorance you do not know what will bring you to Bliss, the goal of happiness; so you think of killing yourself to get it.

So in one sense every one in the world is religious, inasmuch as every one is trying to get rid of want and pain, and gain Bliss. Every one is working for the same goal. But in a strict sense only a few in the world are religious, for only a few in the world, though they have the same goal as all others, know the most effective means for removing, for good, all pain or want—physical, mental, or spiritual—and gaining permanent Bliss.

You have to bid good-bye for a while to the rigidly narrow orthodox conception of Religion, though that conception is in a remote way connected with the conception I am bringing out. If for some time you do not go to church or temple, or attend some of its ceremonies or forms, meantime working toward religion in your daily life by being calm, poised, concentrated, charitable, squeezing happiness from the most trying situations, then ordinary people of a pronounced orthodox or narrow bent will nod their heads and declare that, though you are trying to be good, still, from the point of view of real religion, or in the eyes of God, you are “falling off,” as you did not of late enter the precinct of the holy places. While of course there can not be any valid excuse for permanently keeping away from the holy places, there can not, on the other hand, be any legitimate reason for one’s being considered more religious for attending church, while at the same time neglecting to apply in daily life the principles which the church upholds, viz., those that make ultimately for the attainment of permanent Bliss. Religion is not dove-tailed with the pews of the church, nor is it bound up with the ceremonies performed therein. If you have an attitude of reverence, if you live your daily life always with a view to how you may bring undisturbed Bliss-consciousness into it, you will be just as religious out of the church as in it. Of course this should not be understood as an argument for forsaking the church, for the church is usually a real help in many ways. The point is that you should put forth just as much effort outside of the church hours to gain eternal happiness as you forego while from the pews you are passively enjoying a good sermon. Not that listening is not a good thing, in its way, for it certainly is.

The word religion is derived from the Latin religare, to bind (see p. 58). What binds, whom does it bind, and why? Leaving aside any orthodox explanation, it stands to reason that it is “we” who are bound. What binds us? Not chains or shackles, of course. We are talking of Religion, not of a slave dealer, so can not be bound that way. Religion may be said to bind us by rules, laws, or injunctions only. And why? To make us slaves? To disallow us the birthright of free thinking or free action? That is unreasonable. Religion must have a sufficient motive, its motive in “binding” us must also be good. The very fact of binding, then, is not enough; there must be a purpose or motive for binding us, which is the chief thing. What is that motive? The only rational answer we can give is that Religion binds us by rules, laws, injunctions, in order that we may not degenerate, that we may not have pain, misery, suffering—bodily, mentally, or Spiritually. (Bodily and mental suffering we know. But what is Spiritual suffering? To be in ignorance of the Spirit is Spiritual suffering. The latter is present, always, though often unnoticed, in every limited creature, while bodily and mental suffering come and go.) What other motive of the word “binding” than the above can we ascribe to religion that is not either nonsensical or repelling? Obviously other motives, if any, must be subservient to the one given.

Is not the definition already given of Religion consistent with the above-mentioned motive of the word “binding,” the root meaning of Religion? We said that Religion, in part, consists in the permanent avoidance of pain, misery, suffering. Now Religion can not lie merely in getting rid of something, such as pain, but it must also lie in getting hold of something else. It can not be purely negative, but must be positive, too. How can we permanently get away from pain without holding to its opposite—Bliss? Though Bliss is not exactly opposite to pain, it is, at any rate, a positive consciousness to which we can cling in order to get away from pain. We can not, of course, forever hang in the air of a neutral feeling—that is neither pain nor the reverse. I repeat that Religion consists not only in the avoidance of pain, suffering, etc., but also in the attainment of Bliss, or God (that Bliss and God in one sense mean the same thing will be discussed later).

By looking, then, into the motive of the root meaning of Religion (“binding’’) we arrive at the same definition of Religion as we reached by the analysis of man’s motive for action.

Religion is a question of fundamentals. If our fundamental motive is the seeking of Bliss, or happiness, if there is not a single act we do, not a single moment we live, that is not determined ultimately by that final motive, should we not call this craving a deep-seated one in human nature? And what can Religion be if it is not somehow intertwined with the deep-rooted craving of human nature? Religion, if it is to be anything that has life value, must base itself on a life instinct or craving. This is an a priori plea for the conception of Religion set forth in this book.

If you say there are many other human instincts (social, self-preserving, etc.) besides a craving for happiness, and ask why we should not interpret Religion in the light of those instincts, too, the answer is that those instincts are either subservient to the instinct of seeking happiness or are too indissolubly connected with the latter to affect substantially our interpretation of Religion.

To revert once more to the former argument (page 6), that which is universal and most necessary to man is Religion to him. If what is most necessary and universal is not Religion to him, what then can it be? That which is most accidental and variable can not be it, of course. If we try to make money the one and only thing requiring attention in our life, then money becomes Religion to us—‘‘the Dollar is our God.” The predominant life motive, whatever it may be, is Religion to us. Leave aside here the orthodox interpretation, for principles of action, and not intellectual profession of dogmas, or observance of ceremonies, determine, without the need of our personal advertisement, what religion we have. We need not wait for either the theologian or the minister to name our sect or Religion for us—our principles and actions have a million tongues to tell it to us and others. But the amusing part of it all is that back of whatsoever thing we worship with blind exclusiveness is always one fundamental motive. That is, if we make money, business, or obtaining the necessities or luxuries of life the be-all and end-all of our existence, still back of our action lies a deeper motive: we seek these things because they banish pain and bring happiness. This fundamental motive is humanity’s real Religion; other secondary motives form pseudo-religions. Because Religion is not conceived in a universal way it is relegated to the region of clouds, or thought to be a fashionable diversion for women, the aged, or the feeble.

Thus we see that the Universal Religion (or Religion conceived in this universal way) is practically or pragmatically necessary. Its necessity is not artificial or forced. Though in the heart its necessity is perceived, yet un- fortunately we are not always fully alive to it. Had we been so, pain would long since have disappeared from the world. For ordinarily what a man thinks to be really necessary he will seek at all hazards. If the earning of money is thought by a man to be really necessary for the support of his family, he will not shrink from running into dangers to secure it. It is a pity we do not consider Religion to be necessary in the same way. Instead, we regard it as an ornament, a decoration, and not a component part of man’s life.

It is also a great pity that though the aim of every man in this world is necessarily religious, inasmuch as he is working always to remove want and attain Eternal Bliss, yet due to certain grave errors he has been misdirected and led to consider the true Religion, the definition of which we have just given, as a thing of minor importance. What is the cause of this! Why do we not perceive its real necessity in place of its apparent necessity? The answer is—society, and our inherent tendencies in an indirect way. It is the company we keep that determines for us the necessity we feel for different things. To do good to people is what has been taught from our childhood as necessary and edifying, and so we now believe it. Consider the influence of persons and circumstances. If you wish to orientalize an occidental, place him in the midst of the Asiatics; or if you want to occidentalize an oriental, plant him among Europeans—and mark the results. It is obvious—inevitable. The man of the West learns to love the customs, habits, dress, modes of living and thought and manner of viewing things of the East, and the man of the East comes to like those of the West. The very standard of truth seems to them to vary. However, most people will agree that the worldly life, with its cares and pleasures, weal and woe, is worth living.

But of the necessity of the Universal Religion few or none will ever remind us, and so we are not quite alive to it. It is a truism that man can not look beyond the circle in which he is placed. Whatever falls within his own circle he justifies, follows, imitates, emulates, and feels to be the standard of thought and conduct. What is beyond his own sphere he overlooks or lessens the importance of. A lawyer will praise and be most attentive to what concerns law. Other things will, as a rule, have less importance for him.

The pragmatical or practical necessity of the Universal Religion is often understood as merely a theoretical necessity, Religion being considered an object of intellectual concern. If we know the religious ideal merely through our intellect, we think we have reached this ideal and that it is not required to live it or realize it. It is a great mistake on our part to confuse pragmatical necessity with theoretical necessity. Many would perhaps admit, on a little reflection, that Universal Religion is surely the permanent avoidance of pain and the conscious realization of Bliss, but few, due to their inertness, understand the importance and practical necessity that this religion carries with it.

Now it is necessary for us to investigate the ultimate cause of pain and suffering, mental and physical, in the avoidance of which the Universal Religion partly consists.

First of all we should assert, from our common universal experience, that we are always conscious of ourselves as the active power performing all of our mental and bodily acts. Many different functions are we performing, indeed—perceiving, apperceiving, thinking, remembering, feeling, acting, etc. Yet underlying these functions we can perceive that there is an “Ego,” or “Self,” which governs them and thinks of itself as substantially the same through all its past and present existence. The Bible says, “Know ye not that ye are Gods and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in thee?” All of us as individuals are so many reflected spiritual selves of the universal Blissful Spirit—God. Just as there appear many images of the one sun, when reflected in a number of vessels full of water, so are we apparently divided into many souls, occupying this bodily and mental vehicle, and thus outwardly separated from the One Universal Spirit. In reality, God and man are one, and this separation is only apparent.

Now, being blessed and reflected Spiritual selves, why is it that we are utterly unmindful of our Blissful state and are instead subject to physical and mental pain and suffering? The answer is, that the Spiritual self has brought on itself this present state (by whatever process it may be) by identifying itself with a transitory bodily vehicle and a restless mind. The Spiritual self being thus identified, feels itself sorry for or delighted at a corresponding unhealthy and unpleasant or healthy and pleasant state of the body and mind. Because of this identification, the Spiritual self is being continually disturbed by their transitory states. To take even the figurative sense of identification: a mother who is in deep identification with her only child suffers and feels intense pain merely by the very hearing of her child’s probable or real death, whereas she may feel no such pain if she hears of the death of a neighboring mother’s child with whom she has not identified herself. Now we can imagine the consciousness when the identification is real and not figurative. Thus the sense of identification with the transitory body and restless mind is the source or root-cause of our Spiritual self’s misery.

Identification of the Spiritual self with the body and mind being the primary cause of pain, we should now turn to a psychological analysis of the immediate or proximate causes of pain and to the distinction between pain, pleasure, and Bliss.

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