Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna Lecture 166 on 16-June-2026

Full Transcript (Not Corrected)

Opening Invocation

ॐ जननीं शारदां देवीं रामकृष्णं जगद्गुरुम् |

पादपद्मे तयोः श्रित्वा प्रणमामि मुहुर्मुहुः ||

Oṃ jananīṃ śāradāṃ devīṃ rāmakṛṣṇaṃ jagadgurum |

pādapadme tayoḥ śritvā praṇamāmi muhurmuhuḥ ||

At Surendra's House: Sunday, November 19, 1882

The Storm of Divine Passion

Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said: "After the first storm of divine passion is quelled, one gradually understands that God alone is the highest good, the eternal substance, and all else is transitory."

Every word of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa has a deep meaning. Once Swami Vivekananda had declared, "I have spoken nothing but Upaniṣads, and of the Upaniṣads, nothing but fearlessness and self-confidence" (ātmaśraddhā). So when a spiritual aspirant starts practicing spiritual disciplines, a lot of storm—what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa calls "storm"—takes place. What is the storm? A tremendous battle between the worldly impressions and the spiritual impressions. One great Russian classic, called The Spiritual Warfare, is one of the best books that I have come across. Until we realise God, it is nothing but constant, continuous warfare.

But there comes a time when a sādhaka (aspirant) understands, accepting complete self-surrender to God, that there is nothing else anybody can do. That is one of the topics Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is going to discuss, and we are going to discuss today. Only when śaraṇāgati (complete self-surrender) is understood by a sādhaka—that it is the only way—then such a person becomes like a kitten, calling only "Mā, Mā." That was one of the prayers of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa: "Mother, I do not know anything. I am a fool." All of us are fools. "Fool" means we are completely submerged in ignorance. What we are talking even about God is nothing but an expression of our ignorance. God is existing; He is there somewhere. He created this universe, and everything in this universe is created by Him, or He became Himself. He is only appearing with various dresses, like an actor. In every new cinema, he puts on a new dress. Our body is the biggest dress, and it is changing continuously—from babyhood, childhood, adolescence, youth, middle age, old age. We can observe, and we get worried also: "I see a lot of hair slowly turning grey and then white." Everything is changing. And this is all from the viewpoint of ignorance only. Is there no change? The real nature of human being can never change. Ātman can never change; Brahman can never change.

The Spiritual Warfare

But a war—literal war—what is it? The war is between our desire for God and our desire for the world. That is what has been so graphically described in the Kaṭha Upaniṣad: a battle between preyas (the pleasurable) and śreyas (the good). Preyas pulls us down, wants us to remain ignorant. Śreyas wants to get out, struggles very hard, and many times it is pulled down. Every time we think we have achieved something, our mind is suddenly brought back even lower than what it used to be. Then we are shocked, surprised. So this is the battle. That is why it is called spiritual warfare.

Is spirituality the only warfare? What about worldliness? Look at all the wars that are going on and that will go on. There was a Russian sociologist who wrote a beautiful book. Therein he has written that among all known human history, only just a few years that can be counted on our fingers are free from relative wars. Every year, either local or national or international wars have taken place. War is the norm; peacetime is very less. Study the history: how many billions of human beings have been conquered and turned into slaves? They do not have even the rights of an animal. Even animals are loved—dogs are loved, horses are loved, cows are loved. Why? Because it gives us benefit. It is our nature to express our love. So some nations outdo other nations in keeping pets. Pets are more reliable, more faithful, more lovable; they never betray us usually, but human beings can betray at any time.

So what are all these worldly wars about? It is all about what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa used to call kāma and kāñcana—that is, enjoyment and the means of enjoyment. That is called artha and kāma, and they are also considered as the goals of human life (puruṣārtha). How come? Because there are two ways of achieving: the Dharmic way and the Adharmic way, the virtuous way and the way of evil. And most people think the virtuous way does not work. That is why even on the flag it is written, Satyameva Jayati—"Truth alone triumphs." But unfortunately, we expect the results to appear immediately: "I am truthful, so I should not undergo any suffering." But for a mysterious reason—and the right reason—it does not happen that way. It does not happen anywhere to anybody. Even if they are unrighteous, they also have to suffer.

You read the mythologies, especially Indian mythologies, even Greek mythologies. You will see the gods get angry and try to destroy. If you study the Greek mythologies, you will find how much war is going on between the gods. They have their own favourite people, favourite children, and if something happens to their children, they take up war and try to destroy the other god. After all, we are reflections of the gods only; we are manifestations of gods only, and therefore we are not separate. Our nature is not separate, all because of ignorance. What is ignorance? "I am completely different from everything else"—that is the acme of ignorance. Out of this comes what is called dvitīyād vai bhayam bhavati. That word bhaya directly translated will be "fear." But truly it means my jealousy, my lust, my anger, my pride, my arrogance. If there is no second one, in front of whom am I going to show my pride, my arrogance, my jealousy? Even these negative feelings require somebody as a target. "I am angry with you. I am jealous of you," etc. Dvitīyād vai bhayam bhavati.

Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's Own Storm

So this is what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is referring to, and he was very fond of using this word "storm" describing his earlier ways of spiritual practice. He said, "I took up the post of worship of the Divine Mother, and without my either knowledge or desire, something possessed my head and it took me through a storm for nearly twelve years. I was not aware of the world at all." A storm indicates the highest force, either for good or evil.

And then what is the result of this storm? A worldly warrior fighting for worldly goods—to own, to possess worldly goods—after a long time, he gets tired. He understands, "Vain, all is vain; everything is vain." And then one day he wakes up, and the inner war starts. At the end, he understands: a crystal-clear understanding comes. Every time he fights, he becomes a little more wiser, more understanding. At the end, he realises that "I cannot do anything." Sarvadharmān parityajya—"I have not achieved anything by faithfully following most of these dharmas" (pathways). But there is only one way left—not that there is no other way: "I surrender myself." Whether he is a jñānī, he has to surrender. At the end, when he reaches the highest peak of Savikalpa Samādhi, he understands, "This is not the end, but I can go no further up." And then he surrenders to what he calls either his Guru or the Parabrahman, pure Brahman. Whatever, the idea is the same: surrender.

When that surrender comes, there comes tremendous peace of mind. Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is expressing that "passion is quelled"—divine passion. Passions are of two types: worldly and divine. Through spiritual struggles, when the divine passion is quelled—when is it quelled? When one comes to a crystal-clear understanding that "accepting God, I cannot do anything." So then he understands: God alone is the highest good. What is struggle? Struggle is to think there is something, some other good other than God, besides God. Most devotees are like that: "I want dharma, I want artha, I want kāma—of course, I want God also." But in the bucket list, God will be at the very bottom. But a time will come when all other desires will be left out. There will be only one item in the bucket, and that is called God. Then he understands, he realises: God alone is the highest good, the eternal substance, and all else is transitory.

Nothing is what is called śūnya (non-existence). No, everything is nothing but manifestation of God, but it is transitory. So when someone is asked to renounce the world—jagat mithyā—it is an indirect way of saying "mithyā is based upon satyam (truth). Therefore, hold on to that truth." That is what is meant, because whatever is transitory, changing, dependent—that is called mithyā.

Tapasya and the Company of Holy Men

How to understand this? Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa himself is repeating it a number of times; we have no option but to repeat because our purpose is not to complete a book but to try to understand what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is trying to teach us. So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues: "One cannot grasp this without tapasyā and the company of holy men."

One of the greatest tapasyās is the company of holy men. In the very Gospel, at the very beginning—probably on his third visit, M had come to see Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa at Dakṣiṇeśvara—Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was giving the example. Once a man had fed a peacock with a small dose of opium at three o'clock in the afternoon, and the next day, exactly at three o'clock, the peacock had come again for another dose. What Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa did not elaborate was that only after twenty-four hours, until the peacock dies, it will come. No. For a few days it comes at three o'clock. After that, the effect of the dosage becomes less, so it will start coming at twelve o'clock, then at nine o'clock. That means the more we cultivate the company of holy men, then the effect becomes—we feel the effect, we want it more and more. That is called intoxication: "I want it more."

Parasparaṃ bhāvayantaḥ—in the Bhagavad Gītā also it is said that when two devotees meet, they go on embracing each other, talking to each other only about God. You speak, I listen; I speak, you listen. So parasparaṃ bhāvayantaḥ—they go on tuṣyanti ca ramanti ca—yet each word of God gives joy, intoxication. Intoxication means "I cannot live without it."

Here I just wanted to make a little bit of light version. So when we enjoy something very happiness-giving—a sweet, or watching a beautiful movie, or reading a book which gives us real joy—that is it. But the word "intoxication" is something else: we forget the whole world, and our craving increases. Until we get to that craving, we cannot really progress towards God.

I thought, after hearing this example of the peacock, how apt it was. M was thinking, "How soon can I go?" He could not come because he was a family man; he had to earn his livelihood, he had to work as a teacher in Vidyāsāgar's school. But whenever he got the least bit of leisure, immediately he ran to Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa—and with what joy he experienced. And Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was a master of parables; he narrates several parables. One of the parables, as you remember, is "Dādā Madhusūdana" (elder brother Madhusūdana). This story was told for the first time; M heard it from Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's mouth, and it produced such an impression that the whole time, that whole night, he was only thinking of it.

The next morning, he had to go to answer calls of nature and perform his ablutions. So he went there and was sitting. M was in the habit of getting up very early in the morning, so he went there and sat after finishing all that. The thought "Dādā Madhusūdana" came to him, so he started recollecting that parable and shedding tears. It produced an effect upon somebody else—I am not remembering correctly. Either M was crying, or he heard some devotee crying in the Pañcavaṭī jungle: "Dādā Madhusūdana, Dādā Madhusūdana." At that time, M had what is called a "thousand eyes"—he had that nature of observing everything, because he was divinely appointed to become the writer of the Gospel, like Gaṇeśa with tremendous memory power. So M was shedding tears. Suddenly he noticed that Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa had also come on his way to answer calls of nature, and he heard this cry of "Dādā Madhusūdana." He was standing and must have been very close—even in the dim light, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's eyes had become wet.

So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's every word used to intoxicate because it is coming from the Divine Mother; it is Veda-vāṇī (the voice of the Vedas), not a mere paṇḍit's utterance. So you understand that one realises gradually that God alone is the highest good, the eternal substance, and all else is transitory. But one cannot grasp this without tapasyā—just by hearing, one cannot grasp it. How many people had heard Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa? How many people even now are reading and hearing Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's words? Whenever you read a book, somebody's book, you are hearing. Even if you are reading your own book, you are hearing your own words.

What is Tapasyā?

So what is this tapasyā? This is what we have been studying in the Taittirīya Upaniṣad beautifully. What was it?

तपसा ब्रह्म विजिज्ञासस्व, तपो ब्रह्मेति.

tapasā brahma vijijñāsasva, tapo brahmeti.

Tapasyā is another form of Brahman. What does this tapasyā do? It washes away all the unspiritual tendencies, brings out all the divine qualities, and reveals the truth to the aspirant. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "For twelve years I did not know what was day, what was night; a storm as it were had passed." Just as a big storm, especially if you are travelling on a ship—then what is day, what is night? That thunder, that rain—when it lasts for several hours, is it night? Is it morning? Nobody can see. The boat is tossed up and down. How many boats had sunk also, especially in the Triangle of Bermuda.

One cannot grasp this without tapasyā. And tapasyā, part of that tapasyā, is the company of holy men. Holy men does not mean only persons—actually Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa means satsaṅga (company of the holy), and it can be spiritual books, spiritual talks, meditation, going to places of pilgrimage, etc.

Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues: "What is the use of merely deciding the written parts for the drum? It is very difficult to put them into practice on the instrument. What can be accomplished by a mere lecture?" How fortunate we are! Let Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, out of infinite compassion—why do I say infinite compassion?—He has been teaching all of us. Why? Because are we really adhikārīs (qualified recipients)? In the Advaita system, unless a person becomes endowed with the fourfold qualities, it is not possible even to grasp the words of the Guru. He will not be a fit person to enter. This is the truth. So austerity is very necessary. By that alone, one can comprehend: tapasā brahma vijijñāsasva.

Caste Distinctions and Divine Love

Then somebody asked Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa about caste distinctions. We may think, after reading about caste in the Gospel, that we are in the twenty-first century. Have we been able to remove the caste system? Absolutely no. What is the caste system? We belong to a particular class—either it can be called class. In India it is called caste; in Western countries it is called class. We belong to the millionaire club, the billionaire club. Naturally, only few billionaires are entitled; the first qualification is one must become a billionaire. I don't know whether a trillionaire club exists, but they want to be exclusive. That is why even in aeroplane, first class, business class, economy class—classes are there. So all these classes we have to understand as class distinction. But in the eyes of a genuine spiritual aspirant, there is neither class distinction nor caste distinction. Even a caṇḍāla—Śaṅkarācārya had learned from a caṇḍāla. Even today, his followers have not learned the lesson. Just imagine: one of these Śaṅkarācāryas is passing by, and a caṇḍāla with a chunk of meat happens to pass by. What do you think? The Śaṅkarācāryas will be there, and if several such people are passing by, what would be their reaction? They have not learned; they are still leading that kind of life which is called orthodox brāhmaṇa's life.

But even an orthodox brāhmaṇa like Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa has not observed these rules and regulations. Everybody was welcome to come. Holy Mother, belonging to such high caste, once she invited one Amjad—a Muslim, but a person who was very fortunate to have the greatest blessings. Holy Mother knew about his habits of robbing. Why was he robbing? We have to understand that his nature was not robbery. Holy Mother understood that this happened because of the British policy. They wanted to deprive millions of Indians. Indians used to grow indigo, from which blue colour is obtained, and that was used to colour the cloths they used to make. Growing indigo was probably specialized by these Muslims. Muslims have been poor in India because only poor people have been neglected by Hindus for centuries together, and out of desperation they have turned into Muslims, and some of them have turned into terrible enemies. So in Bengal there was a person called Kālā Jāyara or something like that, and he killed thousands and thousands of Hindus. Naturally, the sins that we Hindus have committed have to be paid according to our Karma Siddhānta. It does not matter whether a person believes in it or not; the effect of any action is inevitable.

Holy Mother knew very well, better than anybody, that he was not a robber by nature. Amjad was forced—many other Muslims were forced to become thieves, highway robbers. Why? Because they have families; they love their families, they love their children, but they have to feed them and they themselves have to eat. So there was no legal option open for them. Therefore, they have to go and do it. Many times we see that one of the reasons people turn to thievery and stealing is because of their need, and society is responsible for them. Very few people are there because stealing gives them joy. We have to understand the psychology very well. Holy Mother knew he is a good person, he is a spiritual person, and he was extraordinarily fortunate to come into contact with Amjad. He used to bring offerings lovingly.

So one day he was invited to sit, and then Nalini—one of the nieces of Holy Mother—was throwing food from a distance. Holy Mother had one look at it, snatched the serving vessel from Nalini, and started lovingly feeding Amjad. Nalini screeched, "Aunt, you lost your caste by even coming near." Holy Mother might not have touched, but that is called caste system. We read about it in stories, especially Śaraccandra Chatterjee had depicted these atrocities that had taken place—how widows were raped by their own relatives, and when they were with child, they were kicked out of their homes, and society hated them. Come to think of it, there was Mary Magdalene; Jesus Christ went to her. She was caught as an adulteress. Can somebody become an adulteress without a man by the side? And what punishment are you giving for the male? In these Judaic religions, women are looked down upon for a long, long time—even today. I feel like laughing when I hear what is the role of Mother Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. She is only an intercessor. You pray to her: "Mother, you tell (your son)."

There is a beautiful parallel. Once, a king was about to be killed by Rāma. He went to mother of Āñjaneya (Hanumān) and prayed, "You please save me; tell your son is about to kill me." This is beautifully depicted in a beautiful cinema called Rāma-Āñjaneya Yuddha. Then Āñjanā Devī, out of pure innocence, gave shelter without thinking. Now she remembered her son; immediately he came because he is Vāyu-putra (son of the wind). Like a wind he came: "Mother, what is your command?" She said, "Protect this one; this is my wish." And the wish of mother is a command for Rāma and for Āñjaneya, for Lakṣmaṇa, for everybody. So immediately, because of the mother, Āñjaneya decided to kill this fellow, but now Āñjaneya became the protector. There was a battle between Rāma and this king, and the king was being shielded; in front was standing Hanumān. Rāma warned, "I want to kill because my guru Viśvāmitra commanded me that I should kill this king"—for a peculiar, horrible reason, not that the king had done anything wrong. A great lesson has to be learned—many lessons have to be learned by studying these Purāṇic stories. Later on they say, "Oh, we were testing, testing you; we did not really mean it." How much suffering! So somebody had said, "The whole world is nothing but a cat-and-mouse play." Somebody remarked, "For the cat, it is okay; what about the mouse?"

So Āñjaneya stood with folded hands. He cannot fight his Iṣṭa Devatā (Rāma). Rāma warned, "Get out of the way; I want to kill that king." Āñjaneya said, "First you have to kill me, then only you can kill." And then Rāma discharged the invincible arrow. That arrow came with tremendous power to cut off the head of Hanumān. Simply Hanumān stood and started chanting, "Rāma, Rāma, Rāma." And that arrow—how can it kill Rāma? Hanumān became Rāma, so it became a beautiful garland. I wish I could learn that mantra because every day we can have beautiful garlands. So the lesson learned by Viśvāmitra was: don't hurt any one of my devotees, because hurting my devotees is like hurting me. Viśvāmitra learned, and Rāma knew the devotion of that king towards himself. But this is the way he wanted indirectly: Nārada created this drama to teach Viśvāmitra, "Don't be arrogant. You may be a great ṛṣi, but you are not equal in devotion to this king"—whether it is Ambarīṣa or this king who is greatly devoted to Rāma. Such beautiful stories are there.

Only Surrender Makes One God's Own

What I am trying to tell you is that only surrender—become a kitten and let God do whatever He wants to do. If a person surrenders to God, then he becomes God's. That means whatever the master's way of looking at the world, that is the way the devotee also acquires. That is the insight, that is the outlook. Brahmavit Brahmaiva bhavati—"The knower of Brahman becomes Brahman." Sarvaṃ khalvidaṃ Brahma—"All this is indeed Brahman." He can look only at his Iṣṭadevatā, like Prahlāda used to see his own father as a manifestation of Nārāyaṇa.

So why am I quoting all these things? Our caste distinctions, our class distinctions have become less now. Have they vanished? Have we become greater now? No. How do we know? Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling that there is only one way to remove them—caste distinctions—and that is by love of God. If one does not have love of God, these distinctions—dvitīyād vai bhayam bhavati—bhaya means desire, bhaya means anger, bhaya means greediness. "I want to possess you, your family, your property, your country." Whoever has got the power, they want to do that, and it will not disappear until one is imbued by the love of God. That is what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling.

Nowadays, Indian politics have become caste politics. "This man is from my caste"—whether he is selfish, he is not doing anything for myself. People are fools; they do not understand what these leaders are doing. They are not having any love, any goodwill towards anybody else—"me and, if possible, my family alone." Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa crystal-clearly tells: lovers of God have no caste.

Let us recall the saying of Rābiya, the greatest lover of God. Once, somebody was castigating her, criticizing her, and somebody asked Rābiya, "Such and such persons are criticizing you severely. What do you think about it?" You know what Rābiya said? "I have no time to think what one thinks of me—whether I am a great saint or a great sinner. I am so much intoxicated by the love of God, absorbed in the meditation on God, that I do not hear what others are thinking of me." She also told on one occasion, "People—I have to be careful. If somebody hates me, they are hating God, they are hating themselves; they will come to the greatest grief." And it was she who declared this marvellous statement: "If, O God, I love You because I want to enter into Your paradise—the kingdom of heaven—then exclude me from paradise. If I am loving You because of fear of hell, burn me in hell. But if I am loving You for Your own sake, keep me not away from You; do not exclude me from You." That was Rābiya, one of the greatest Sufi saints.

Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says, "There is only one way, and that is: lovers of God have no caste. Through this divine love, the untouchable becomes pure; the pariah no longer remains a pariah." That is why Caitanya embraced all, including the pariahs.

The members of the Brāhma Samāj sing the name of Hari—that is very good. But Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa perhaps did not want to expand or expound more on the subject. Then he is trying to encourage; see the positive side: "The members of the Brāhma Samāj, they are very good; they sing the name of God." Why is he telling? Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "Singing the name of God is very good." He appreciated our singing of God's name. Everybody requires some kudos, some applause. So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is appreciating: "Let us think more about God." But not only that—there is a secret we have to understand. If anybody sings the name of God in the presence of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, even the other persons will be carried away by the intoxication that Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa used to feel on those occasions. The very remembrance of God used to throw Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa and Caitanya Mahāprabhu into ecstasy. Not to speak of that, it is said Swami Vivekananda was the aṃśa (a part) of Śiva. Śiva is supposed to be Rudra. The very name Rudra means rodhayati iti Rudraḥ—"one who makes you weep," because he is equivalent to death. He is called saṃhāra-kāraka—sṛṣṭi and sthiti are done by Brahmā and Viṣṇu; laya is done by Paramāśiva. So rodhayati iti Rudraḥ. But one has to be careful: that very Rudra will be dancing in ecstasy, singing, uttering the name of Rāma, called Tāraka Mantra; he loses himself in tremendous intoxication.

The Intoxication of God's Presence

So in the presence of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, everybody—anybody, even the most sceptical atheist—used to be caught in the net of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's ecstatic joy. He cannot but be joyous. This is the phenomenon in the life of everybody. That is why Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: when Śrī Rāma entered into the Daṇḍakāraṇya, sixty-four thousand ṛṣis who were only meditating on God, knowing nothing but God, did not get that much intoxication. But as soon as they were in the presence of Śrī Rāma, they enjoyed so much, they were intoxicated. What is the nature of intoxication? "I want this drug again." So they all said to Rāma, "We don't know—Śrīmad Rāmāyaṇa or the books only give us very brief mention, but we have to exercise our imagination. They must have fallen to tremendous intoxication and then requested, falling at the feet of Rāma: 'We never want again to leave your presence.'" That means your intoxicating joy—that is what we want. If Rāma did not give them that joy, they would never have requested. But they felt it, and they never felt it before, and they understood: all this intoxication is because of Rāma; He is the root cause, and if He goes away, we will be back to square one. Therefore, they all begged, "We want to be with you all the time."

What a nuisance—sixty-four thousand fellows surrounding, not allowing Śrī Rāma to take a bit of rest, to take a leisurely bath, to enjoy water sports and all those things. So very adroitly He said, "Not in this life, but you be born as gopīs. I am going to reincarnate especially for you, and at that time I will show you—this is nothing but what I am going to show you—that Madhura Bhakti, that is the highest peak of intoxication. It is a foreign-made drug, pure drug, heroin—I will give it to you. But in this life, my mission is different; I have to do something else." And then He escaped.

So in the company of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, nobody can escape that intoxication, and then slowly they associate, even if they do not understand. Ultimately, perhaps they understand: it is the presence of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa that gives the intoxication, not because we were chanting God's name. We are chanting God's name now in the presence of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, and because of Him, all this intoxication is coming to us. But then they also associate that this intoxication is eternally associated with the name of God. That is why Sadāśiva Brahmendra had composed Rāmanāmarasa Vibhāre, Rāmarasam—what a beautiful song, a Sanskrit kīrtana.

So until we realise this rasa, what happens? Such a devotee—let him be passing, and suddenly he may be hearing his Iṣṭadevatā's bhajan sung by a low-caste person somewhere. "Low-caste" does not mean they cannot be devotees of God; many low-caste people are more moral and more devoted to God and good character than perhaps anybody else. When a devotee hears it, he does not discriminate who is singing it—"Is it a low-caste person?" No—he is singing God's name.

There is a beautiful incident. Caitanya Mahāprabhu took his mother's permission to live in Purī. He wanted to go away, but his love for his mother Śacī Devī prevented him. He said, "Mother, if you do not give me permission, I will run away and never again appear in your life. But if you give permission, I will stay in Purī, and sometimes you can come and see me." Navadvīpa and Purī are not that far away—a few days' journey. It was a kind of spiritual blackmail. Śacī Devī had no option but to accept.

Then he was living as Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: Caitanya Deva used to be in three states in Purī. When he is completely conscious of the body, he used to sing the name of God and dance. When he is in a semi-conscious state, he could not utter a word; he used only to sing the name of God. But when he is in the third higher stage—

यतो वाचो निवर्तन्ते अप्राप्य मनसा सह.

yato vāco nivartante aprāpya manasā saha.

—thought and speech cannot exist in that state; they are far below that intoxicated state. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is often compared to Caitanya by M. "Is he another Caitanya?" Caitanya Mahāprabhu had come to teach people what is joy. So that was Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa.

The Power of God's Name

When any real devotee hears God's name, from whichever source it comes, he will be intoxicated. Caitanya Mahāprabhu, whenever he hears Hari's name, used to go into ecstasy. One day, evening, he was walking towards his place called Gāmbhirā—a small cottage. Suddenly he heard the most melodious singing of God's name. Caitanya Mahāprabhu's habit was that he would unconsciously rush towards that person and embrace that person. But he took a vow strictly: he would never allow any woman to come anywhere near him, including his own wife. The only woman whom he allowed to come was only his own mother Śacīdevī.

So there was a sevaka following him; he was specially commissioned to protect Caitanya Mahāprabhu in such situations, because he could jump into the ocean and drown, or he could be pelted by stones by worldly people—many things can happen. As he was going in Purī, suddenly he heard this most melodious, intoxicating singing of God's name. The moment he heard it, he went into an unconscious state and then started running. His sevaka understood where he is going—he understood that a woman, a public woman, was singing God's name. Then he went and forcefully held Caitanya Mahāprabhu, not allowing him to go. Later on, he must have explained to Mahāprabhu, "You are rushing towards this singer; she happens to be a public woman. When people see you embracing this woman, what would be their opinion of you?" Caitanya Mahāprabhu appreciated it so much, immediately rewarded. I forget the sevaka's name, but he said, "I am so pleased with you. I will take another person to protect me, but there is nobody who is to protect Viṣṇupriyā"—who was spending her days in the greatest intoxication of meditating upon God.

Caitanya Mahāprabhu left his own wooden sandals for her to worship, and from that day onwards, she went on only getting absorbed. I will tell you a little bit very shortly. And then he sent this person who saved him: "You be with Viṣṇupriyā; such a pure person like you alone can protect." And so, as long as Viṣṇupriyā was alive for many years, he served her.

As soon as her husband left, how did Viṣṇupriyā spend her time? She would get up early in the morning at three o'clock. She would take two small bowls—one filled with rice, another empty. With each Mahā Mantra—

हरे राम हरे राम राम राम हरे हरे | हरे कृष्ण हरे कृष्ण कृष्ण कृष्ण हरे हरे ||

hare rāma hare rāma rāma rāma hare hare | hare kṛṣṇa hare kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa hare hare ||

—one chanting, one repetition, one grain, she puts into the other bowl. By about one o'clock or so, that small bowl would be filled. So many times she had chanted the name of God. That she would cook, offer to her Lord, and then give prasāda to devotees who came there at that time. The remaining she used to eat only once a day. You can imagine how much food is left out for her. Her whole life she spent like that. What a great example!

Similarly, Buddha's wife Yaśodharā, she also did exactly the same thing. We don't know how Rukmiṇī Devī had spent her time, or other incarnations, how they spent their time. Sītā definitely we know—accepting Rāma. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa himself remarks that she was not aware of her body; continuous chanting of Rāmanāma alone was her mainstay for living alive. At that time only Hanumān goes in the form of a small black monkey sitting. She—that story is beautiful; I leave it for another day.

Prayer and Grace

So prayer is a tapasyā. Through earnest prayer, one receives the grace of God and slowly realises Him. But Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa gives here what very few scriptures give us: "God can be realised by means of all paths. The same God is invoked by different names. But above all, God can be realised only by the grace of God."

Then at the Surendra house, this satsaṅga was going on. Surendra had a brother who was asking a question: "Sir, what do you think of Theosophy, Master? I have heard that man can acquire superhuman powers through it and perform miracles. I saw a man who had brought a ghost under control; a ghost used it to procure various things for his master."

Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "What shall I do with superhuman powers? Can one realise God through them? If God is not realised, then everything becomes false."

Superhuman Powers and Their Use

Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "I have acquired these, but I am not using them myself." I don't know why he was not using them. Had I been present at that time, I would have definitely given him a strong advice: "Use your power to bring this Dvārikā, this Mādhur Bābū—Śāntirilokyanātha Viśvās—and see that your disciples, your devotees, will have greater entry into the Dakṣiṇeśvara temple, and then they will be looking after their own good." So much of tapasyā is done, but Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says, "I have no use for it at all."

Why should he use it? He used to say, "Mother, do what You like—śakali tomāri cā—You do; You know better. I don't need to waste my time in thinking and doing. You do it for me; I am Your child." So these powers often bring tremendous amount of pride. When Narendra was offered, he was equally great like Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa; he said, "Since you are not using them, it is a hint that I should also not use. But what am I going to do with these powers? Will they help me to realise God?" Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "No, but they will help you when you are doing my Mother's mission; then they will help you." Of course, Swamiji also showed certain miracles. In course of time, we will talk about them. But at that time, he firmly rejected and said, "Let me first realise God; afterwards, I will think about that."

Closing Prayer

Om Jānānāṃ Śāradāṃ Devīṃ Rāmakṛṣṇaṃ Jagadgurum

Pada Padme Tayo Śṛtvā Praṇamāmi Muhur Muhuh

May Sri Ramakrishna, Holy Mother, and Swami Vivekananda bless us all with bhakti.

Jai Ramakrishna!