From the very dawn of creation, mankind has striven to answer a single question: Who is God? The question of God's existence and non-existence has been examined more thoroughly in India than anywhere else in the world. As civilization has advanced, the meditation upon God has spread beyond India's borders, yet it was here that this great inquiry first took root. The world's greatest scholars continue to present their various arguments on the nature of divinity, and yet the darkness seems not to lift. The very profundity and complexity of the subject has only multiplied the disagreements among researchers.
Human knowledge grows, our understanding of the mind's capacities deepens, reasoning becomes ever more refined and polished, and yet humanity's contemplation of God continues to give birth to new doctrines and new paths. Let us turn our gaze to the past. Among all the forms of knowledge concerning God that have emerged and developed thus far, Brahma-knowledge—understood in all its dimensions—stands as the most complete and most worthy of acceptance. Why do I make such a claim? As our discussion unfolds, this matter shall become clear.
To be human, two faculties are indispensable: thought and feeling. A person who cannot think, who cannot harness thought to arrive at any conclusion, differs little from the other creatures of this world. Knowledge arises from the union of two things: the capacity to feel and imagine, on the one hand, and thought on the other. This knowledge itself is of two kinds: direct or concrete, and indirect or abstract.
Brahma-knowledge and all spiritual knowledge of this order awaken and develop within the mind alone; they have no visible manifestation in the external world, and so all of them are indirect or abstract in nature. Knowledge that arises from objects we can perceive is direct or concrete knowledge—such as our understanding of trees, the human body, various instruments, and the like. The knowledge of God is abstract in every respect. Brahma-knowledge is wholly distinct from the knowledge derived from objects perceptible to the senses. It is for this reason that countless different doctrines concerning the nature of divinity have come into being.
Let me put it simply. If we grant that God may exist or may not exist, then it becomes easier to speak of God. In other words, whether the answer to the question of God's existence is "yes" or "no," if we wish to contemplate the true nature of reality, we must position ourselves midway between the two and think from that neutral ground. By explaining how God might exist or how He might not exist, we shall find our path easier.
The history of Brahma-knowledge is ancient indeed. From the age of the Rishis down through Plato and Aristotle and their contemporaries among philosophers, this knowledge served as the foundation for all philosophical inquiry. The will of God was the fundamental principle of their thought. Warriors would enter battle remembering God; the faithful would lay down their lives in God's name; countless people would find courage and solace in times of sorrow and peril through their faith in God. All of them believed that God was a single, almighty great Being—the creator of this world, the controller of human destiny.
I have spoken before of two kinds of knowledge. The first kind is perceptible to the senses; the second kind is not. Knowledge of whiteness, courage, goodness, the manifold virtues, power, generosity, and all such things as these—these are indirect knowledge. All knowledge whatsoever is the fruit of a combined influence between the knower and the known. What, then, is the role of the knower? The awakened power that emanates from the various dimensions of an object, or an idea, or a belief, or an experience—howsoever it stirs the knower's own faculty of understanding, in precisely that manner does he come to know something. Even if this knowledge concerns the externality of an object, the manifestation of the object's true nature or qualities is bound to the knower's comprehension. Thus, though there may be many objects of white color in various shapes and forms, the quality of whiteness itself remains immutable and beyond the senses. Just so, there are people of virtuous character in many varieties, yet virtue itself is a harmonized configuration of certain characteristics that remains identical for all virtuous persons. By whiteness or virtue, we do not comprehend any entity—any person or thing—but rather the indirect quality of that entity. And we experience no difficulty whatsoever with this comprehensibility.
Both intellect and conscious awareness create images or knowledge of external objects in their own manner. In the first stage, the intellect or mind, with the aid of the senses, creates an image or knowledge of the object. In the subsequent stage, the image or knowledge created by the mind or intellect becomes an object for consciousness, and entering the dwelling place of consciousness, this object—which is mind or intellect—awakens consciousness itself. Finally, the external object persists within consciousness as a kind of ultimate image or supreme knowledge.
The ancients understood knowledge primarily as indirect knowledge. The Greeks, through words such as "virtue" and "excellence," perceived the beautiful, virtuous woman. It is precisely because the word possesses this generative power that it is called the Word-Absolute. Knowledge of the Absolute is therefore indirect knowledge—that which cannot be grasped, seen, heard, tasted, or smelled; yet it requires no extra effort to perceive it through clear understanding.
In the early stages of knowledge's development, humanity conceived of God in manifest form—as the creator of the world, the lawgiver of the cosmos, the sustainer, the judge of sin and merit. Their conviction was that knowledge of God in manifest form alone was true, for that which exists beyond the senses possesses no reality whatsoever. Such thinking persists even today. Rather than inquire whether this is right or wrong, what matters more is this: through the manifest itself, humanity awakens the devotion dwelling in its own inner being—that is, consciousness itself—which is nothing but another path toward knowledge of the Absolute. If someone, seeking to enter the secret chamber of one's own heart, takes refuge in some external form, I see no harm in that. The essential work is being done. Yet if a worshipper of the formless lags behind the worshipper of the manifest in knowledge and intellect, can we truly say that the practice of one who believes in the formless conception is proceeding along an entirely correct path? Can we say that with any certainty?
For the practice of spirituality, faith and devotion are indispensable—and no matter from which path they come, they place no obstacle in this pursuit. Spirituality, or the awakening of consciousness, will not dawn so long as the feeling of faith has not stirred in the devotee's heart. As far as one's sentiment reaches, so far reaches one's attainment. When people sit before the images of gods and goddesses and speak, they are essentially engaged in intimate communion with the God dwelling within their own soul. Some accomplish this work through worship of the manifest form, while others, in doing so, place their trust in the formless. The goal is one; the paths, however, are many.
Must what comes to imagination necessarily be a visible object, or can it also be the name of a conception? Many believe that imagination surely has its object of aim, that it possesses true reality as well. They endeavor to free imagined knowledge from all manner of objectivity. But can such a thing truly be done? Human beings will have their own opinions, paths, reasoning, beliefs, convictions, and preferences. Why should a person endowed with knowledge and understanding silently accept something imposed upon them? The incompetent imagine all others to be equally incompetent; therein lies the root of the problem.
Our knowledge is merely a reflection of some doctrine, idea, or thing; our imagination is simply a mental stance. The true form of matter and the form born of our imagination are not one. Yet it is through imagination that the awakening of knowledge occurs. Without passing through this mental process, true principle cannot be apprehended. One awakening gives birth to many awakenings. One imagination gives birth to many truths. Thus are born conviction and civilization. The advent of awakening springs from the repeated unfolding of knowledge, and its spread is brought about through continuous practice. The importance of such discipline in determining the nature and movement of knowledge is infinite.
Can God's nature be understood by placing faith in many philosophies? Or is the concept of God such a principle whose nature is beyond human comprehension? In truth, God is the name of a spiritual knowledge or conception, and by this reckoning, God is the fruit of deep thought or a mental state. The ancient sages named God thus for this very reason: 'the jewel of thought'. Hinduism declares God's spiritual nature: composed of mind, composed of knowledge. Stated more plainly, God is knowledge born of or arising in the mind. Therefore, God is none other than Brahman dwelling within the self.
Is God then without being? How are we to understand one who has no existence? I answer thus: God comes forth as the fruit of pure thought. God is the awakening of our consciousness; we can feel His existence or influence in daily life. Though God's existence cannot be demonstrated by tangible proof, through practical experience the truth of Brahmic knowledge becomes abundantly clear to us. From external matter to the senses, from the senses to the mind, from the mind to consciousness—when this threefold journey reaches completion, what emerges from it is called Brahmic knowledge. There is no disagreement here, for this understanding is the essence or quintessence of all religious paths.
When does the trouble begin? When the idol-worshipper and the idol-breaker fail to recognize that their destination, their aim, is one and the same—the knowledge of Brahman—then they take their stand in two opposing camps. The purpose of this war is not the awakening of knowledge, but the establishment of ignorance. These two factions, caught up in the quarrel of words, forget the meaning of the sentence itself. The curious thing is, these people are not the devout; they are the religion-maddened. And they do not even know this truth about themselves. The understanding and feeling of religion both occur in solitude, in the silent awakening of consciousness. The awakening of consciousness does not happen with noise or for show. This is why people who make a clamor about religion have always been fools.
All that comes to our imagination, everything that is born when belief mingles with it—not all of this is true, not all of it corresponds to the actual nature of things. Many imaginings give rise to delusion, and from that spring forth various evils. Our deeds, our words, our thoughts—all of these produce both good and evil fruits. In the end, the good endures, the evil passes away. This is nature's judgment. Yet before the evil departs, it inflicts much harm upon mankind. The body's diseases are cured by medicine, but the mind's delusions—a person clings to them even unto death. There is no tyrant more formidable than the deluded mind. The deluded mind does not believe in the power of human nature; it believes in the supremacy of its own opinion.
Now the question arises: what is Brahman-knowledge, after all? Is it truth, or merely delusion and illusion?
Each person has their own understanding and feeling. According to their own capacity and station, each person holds a conception of God within themselves in their own way. None of these can be forcibly negated. What sustains a person without harming anyone—the heart cannot simply decree it false merely on a whim.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna says: "Among my devotees, whosoever thinks of me in whatever way, or whosoever offers their deeds to me in whatever manner, I become the very subject of their meditation or prayer in that very form." God is almighty. Therefore, however the devotee imagines and believes in Him, finding solace in that conception, God manifests Himself in that very form upon the devotee's mental canvas. The lion's God is mighty like a lion; humanity's God is sublime like a human being. Standing at this place, we may say: God is a synthesis of certain ideal qualities, qualities that differ from one person to another.
Knowledge of God is indirect; God's existence is fashioned by the mind. Yet during his lifetime, man sustains himself by manifesting within his own being the attributes of the divine. It must be said that every imagination and belief of man sits enthroned in his own consciousness as absolute truth. One imagination calls forth another within the mind, and thus it continues. Like the knowledge of Brahman, all knowledge that precedes it keeps our life engaged in action and develops it in full measure. The path toward knowledge of Brahman goes by many names—the worship of many gods or one god in tangible form, prayer that beholds all things on earth as Brahman, monotheism, Brahminism, non-dualism, even atheism or disbelief—yet traversing these various paths, consciousness at last awakens to the soul. This awakening is the supreme purpose of human life.
The curious thing is, an atheist too, unknowingly, harbors the qualities of the divine within himself and, by properly cultivating them, can ascend to the very pinnacle of excellence—whereas a deeply religious man, failing to kindle the awakening of consciousness, may strive his whole life yet never taste success. The most civilized people of the earth were, and still are, worshippers of many gods and goddesses. So no broad conclusion can be drawn that the worship of gods and goddesses is erroneous. Look to ancient times. The Greek and Hindu peoples reached the apex of knowledge and learning when they were engaged in the worship of many gods in concrete form. What then becomes clear? Whether one seeks the divine in form or formless, the real work is this: to awaken oneself, to kindle the power of the mind. If this work is not done, prayer undertaken day and night will bear no fruit.
The fundamental faith of polytheistic worship is this: the gods and goddesses, as representatives and embodiments of the divine, possess natures like those of men, and their idols are fashioned accordingly; in the idol, the worshipper finds the eternal within the material and is fulfilled. Here it may be noted that the gods and goddesses whom Hindus worship bore the marks of such beings in ages past, appearing in various parts of the world, and through devotion they attained divinity. Shiva, Krishna, Rama, Durga, Kali, Ganesha and others are conceived and worshipped as embodiments of certain specific qualities or virtues. Thus, through their worship, Hindus fundamentally engage themselves in the cultivation of divinity within their own souls. Naturally, this brings self-elevation, beautifies life, and brings well-being to all humanity regardless of creed or nation.
The divine power pervades the entire world; rather than attempt to embrace its totality, it is far easier to transform the partial power manifest in the idol before one's eyes into the power of one's own soul. To keep oneself far from the many allurements that cause harm, to achieve mental liberation, to strengthen good tendencies and suppress ill desires, man needs the aid of divine power. Yet not all possess equal capacity to understand and grasp it. Therefore, at the outset of practice, one may embrace the partial power within oneself and gradually advance toward the whole. Through this, the mind is elevated, mental strength increases, various doubts dissolve. Most importantly, this path is simple; and because it is simple, its acceptance among common folk is all the greater.
We cannot reasonably expect that ordinary people, in the very beginning of their spiritual practice, will fix their minds on the transcendent truth beyond the senses—on that consciousness-existence-bliss absolute, the knowledge of the supreme self, the wisdom of Brahman. Even those capable of elevating consciousness have not achieved it in a single day; this work demands infinite patience and disciplined effort. One must begin from nothing. Through repeated struggle, a person eventually arrives at the truth of the self. Those who have reached such heights no longer need image worship. Yet we must not forget: through the image, awakening their own consciousness, people gradually come to experience the unified power of the soul, the divine consciousness. Image worship, then, is a most fruitful science of consciousness.
Before image worship, people were worshippers of nature. Humans, rivers, oceans, sun, mountains, waterfalls, fire, trees and other natural entities were revered as deities. Such worship was entirely natural to society. People believed that everything around us was alive like ourselves; and more—that like us, they too possessed a soul, and through that soul they held power. The Gita says that all created things are expressions of God's power. Yet among created things, those in which power manifests abundantly should be recognized as God's primary aspect. (To illustrate: we might speak of those things and creatures and beings whose qualities people wish to embody in their own lives. For instance, people wish to be creative like Rabindranath Tagore or bright like the stars. Thus Rabindranath Tagore and the stars may be considered as God's primary aspect. Countless such examples could be given.)
Notice how beautifully the Gita teaches us to cast aside weakness and embody within ourselves the manifold signs of power as God's strength! Strength is good, weakness is sin—whoever has not been initiated into this mantra has not truly heard the fundamental note of dharma. And what greater sin exists than this: to consider yourself strong and infallible while deeming another weak and mistaken? To pass judgment on someone as weak and misguided without knowing them—this is undoubtedly irreligion.
We have seen that those who worship many deities actually awaken the knowledge of Brahman itself. Everything that happens in this world is God's play; monotheism teaches precisely this—the various deities are created from the different qualities of the one God. This very belief has inspired people to fashion images and worship them. And it is blindness, dogmatism, and ignorance that have taught people to break them.
Monotheism originated in the consciousness of the Aryan seers. Nearly four thousand five hundred years before Christ's birth, it echoed in the voice of the Vedic sage: "Eka eva advitiyam"—God is one and without a second. The Jewish and Christian faiths later adopted this very declaration from the Chandogya Upanishad. In those times, it was entirely natural to dedicate all actions to God; through this, consciousness would blossom, and through the arising of the highest devotional sentiment in the heart, the practice of worship would reach its completion.
Since the emergence of monotheism, the human urge to know itself has made God the principal subject of all philosophy. As humanity thought more deeply about God, the matter grew increasingly complex and impenetrable. Inevitably, amidst such thickening mystery, many doctrines and paths arose. The monotheism enshrined in Christianity and the theology of God propounded by the Aryan seers eventually converged into one.
Beyond doubt, monotheism itself emerged and evolved from the conception of many gods. As time passed, a question arose: what, fundamentally, is God—that very principle at the heart of monotheism? Then came the philosophers. They proposed that God is not a man with a body like us; rather, the entire universe itself is God, and God is this world and all its existence. All creation and God are one and the same being—this doctrine is known as cosmism or pantheism.
Pantheism is the foundational principle of monotheism. It is far easier to understand than the doctrine that posits someone existing beyond nature, creating and governing all things—and consequently, it has been the subject of extensive inquiry. When humanity realized that it could awaken the qualities of God within itself and establish His presence there, it became conscious and deliberate about its own power and sense of responsibility.
Interest in ancient Brahminism began to grow anew. Most wise people were reluctant to accept the doctrine that some other being exists beyond nature, observing and controlling all things. Instead, they centered on the purpose and outcome of the embodied God—the awakening of individual consciousness—from which two doctrines established themselves: Brahminism and Non-dualism. In the advanced Western nations—France, England, and Germany—Non-dualism began to triumph.
Non-dualism declares that God's abode is in the consciousness of the seeker. To behold Him, one must first establish Him in the soul. He is the creator of this world. Though the God of monotheism may perform miraculous acts, the God of Non-dualism never interferes with the laws of nature. Brahminism largely aligns with the doctrine introduced by Non-dualism. The goal of Brahminism is to purify God-consciousness by refining the various externalities of embodied divinity. The Brahmin philosopher says that God is the witness to all matters of the world, yet God Himself does not entangle in any affair. As wind passes by both a refuse heap and a flower garden without acquiring foul or fragrant odors, so too does God remain a witness to all events, untainted. All the laws of nature and miraculous occurrences are merely God's will; in them, He has no direct participation.
One matter merits particular notice here—when all essential characteristics are considered, the God of the monotheist, the Non-dualist, and the Brahmin are one and identical. God completes Himself; He is the supreme being; and God is distinct from external nature—these three attributes are accepted by all three doctrines mentioned. Yet in reaching conclusions through diverse methods of interpretation aided by philosophy, science, and reason, Non-dualism proves relatively simple, clear, and substantive. When one clearly understands the three stages of the journey between the seen and the seer, all objects, experiences, events, beliefs, sorrows, and knowledge in the world can be understood as the awakening of consciousness within the seer—the arousal of God Himself.
Standing apart from all these doctrines is atheism or godlessness. The shift from theism to atheism is the very essence of this philosophy. This doctrine proclaims that all things in the world originate and develop from whatever exists within nature—whether known or unknown. Nothing that happens occurs by divine will; rather, everything unfolds through some natural cause or other. This view is modern, though not final. The chief aim of atheism is to oppose prevailing orthodoxies. The followers of atheism do not subscribe to any fixed doctrine; their purpose is to disbelieve all religious systems.
Atheism emerges from pantheism, yet the doctrine that "the world itself is God"—does not receive atheism's approval. The world comprises only humans, creatures of lower order than humans, and inanimate matter, none of which can be fit objects of worship. This doctrine further argues that pantheism guides its followers down an obscure path and frequently leads them astray. When everything is left to the soul's judgment, lacking discernment and knowledge, the soul creates illusions, thereby rendering destruction inevitable. Just as monotheism, polytheism, and theism are erroneous and questionable, so too is pantheism baseless. In this manner, atheism seeks to establish its position.
Before humans attain knowledge of the Absolute, whatever doctrines and paths they follow deserve to be questioned—atheism supports this. On the surface, it appears that atheism does rightly here, but can we readily accept this doctrine merely by being content with this single aspect? Let us reflect more carefully.
Is what theism proclaims truly valid? On the other hand, atheism claims that belief in God is the work of fools, that devotion to God is nothing but a mirage; how much truth lies in such assertions?
God is not a visible entity; though not as manifest and direct as the objects scattered about us, it is hardly difficult to perceive God's grace or indifference through our sensibility. When we know what God's attributes are and contemplate them deeply, we can discern whether God dwells within us or not. When before our eyes we behold a compassionate man or a beautiful woman, their qualities speak volumes about them, and if the countless impressions these beings awaken in our consciousness are true, then there is no way to deny the existence of compassion and beauty—these invisible entities. There is no illusion here, no obscurity here. Compassion dwells within the compassionate heart; beauty manifests in the features of the beautiful. Thus both compassion and beauty are living, true, and existent.
Is knowledge of Brahman not something akin to this? Can this supreme knowledge be dismissed merely because it stands beyond the reach of the senses? There exists no more manifest reality in nature than man himself. Though the inclinations within man—compassion, beauty, courage, virtue, cowardice, ugliness, cruelty, sin—are imperceptible, they announce their existence with remarkable clarity; needless to say, the proof of God's existence is established in precisely the same manner. Yet so long as our consciousness remains bound by the chain of fragmentary, sensory knowledge fashioned and awakened within idols, the knowledge of the indivisible God will remain incomprehensible, unknowable, and arduous for us—of this there is no doubt. Of course, it is impossible to taste the liberation spoken of here by relying upon knowledge of a lower order.
God is a name, an aggregate of certain qualities, a kind of intense perception, a sensible awakening of consciousness. God is such a power as gives birth to good; it infuses such life into our imperceptible qualities that their results become apparent and manifest with striking clarity. Through the power of the name God, both man and the entire nature of the world are awakened with marvelous wonder.
When nature maintains harmony in all things, God's grace becomes plainly visible before our eyes. The natural laws that maintain all things in order—all must proceed according to these laws; their violation is sin, and as punishment for sin we must endure nature's grotesque and terrible countenance. God is inherent within nature itself; therefore the laws of nature are God's laws, and their transgression is a breaking of God's law.
God is the repository of infinite power, the source of ultimate knowledge, the vast abode of both form and formlessness. The path of God is the way to the spiritual manifestation of matter-dominated nature. As much truth as natural intellect can grasp—within that very measure lies God's true nature, and there is nothing obscure or mysterious about it; yet the discovery of that truth depends upon spiritual practice. God is the growth of life and the fulfillment of humanity. Both these aspects are rooted in the fundamental chord of ancient Brahminism. This doctrine teaches us to regard man as man, not as a member of any religion; and for this very reason, its place stands high in the judgment of humanity. God does not keep man occupied in the search for various philosophies; rather, as the essence of all philosophy, He manifests Himself in the human mind.
When the perfection of knowledge unfolds within the mind, its essence is born. This essence is vital for our reaching the highest aim, so it must be drawn forth from the shell of lifelessness and released into the realm of life. The more we discuss and investigate the entire process, the purer will be the path to our goal.
Much of what I have said about God will perhaps displease many. Their own beliefs and convictions will not permit them to step out from their familiar comfort-zones in the least. Again, some of those who find joy in quarreling about God's existence and the superiority of their own faith will judge me an atheist. Some too may find offense in my assertion that certain aspects of ancient religious doctrine are flawed.
In my writings, I have called for disregarding idol worship and its attendant excesses on the path to integral knowledge of Brahman; I have urged turning away from the baseless belief that God possesses a body like man and is enslaved by desire. Yet nowhere have I presented God's Brahmic nature, His greatness, beauty, might, purity—none of these qualities as opposed to what is divine. If the purity of knowledge is to be called atheism, then to live as an atheist would be the matter of greatest pride. Those who oppose idol worship through sheer force of will carry no steadiness in heart or speech, lack the patience to labor with reason in arranging their thoughts. Those who wish to dismiss knowledge of Brahman as mere imagination should then discard all their other imaginings and indirect knowledge as well. When people love—this love too is a form of indirect knowledge; so by clear reasoning, it is scarcely something worthy of the name. Compassion, honesty, humanity, hope, dreams, all manner of ideals, the arts and such—these too have no direct existence, so surely they should be cast aside as well. If I say that only the directly perceived living being and material body are real, and all else false, then the world's every intimacy, fellowship, affection, goodness, love, tenderness—everything crumbles to dust. Is this possible? If it is impossible, then to deny God's existence is practically impossible too. It is evident that for mankind, belief in God's existence brings much benefit. The welfare of the world, the cultivation of noble character, the strengthening of energy in work, the awakening of devotion in the heart—all these arise from knowledge of God. Honesty in commerce, courage in life's struggle, concentration in the scientific sacrifice of work, reverence and compassion toward others, and such other necessary virtues as there are—as essential as these virtues themselves are, so equally necessary is the awakening of knowledge of God, of Brahman, for their fulfillment. God is fundamentally the name of a spiritual way of life composed of nature's manifold elements. God's dwelling is in the devotee's heart; there is no logic or reason to regard Him as a being of form, miraculous, endowed with supreme power. This simple truth was established thousands of years ago. God is neither woman nor man, neither nature itself. Yet at the root of all a man's manhood lies He, and at the root of all a woman's womanhood lies He as well. Whatever qualities characterize God are humanity's noblest virtues. Jesus Christ spoke a remarkable truth. When asked, "Where is your father? How have you come to know him?" he answered, "I and my Father are one." Since God is nature's spiritual life, man's true birth comes only when he can awaken the God within his consciousness. In the awakening of God begins mankind's journey. In this light, another name for humanity is divine power.
Divine power does not lie hidden in some mysterious, secret, inaccessible, unknown, darkened place. Rather, the human heart is the vessel of divine power; the spirituality of nature is its source; the highest reaches of human knowledge are its dwelling. We have but one task: to engage ourselves in spiritual practice—in the search for this divine power, this God and his attributes. From the very day we begin to live under the influence of that power, our journey toward our true goal genuinely commences. Therefore, it can be said beyond all doubt: man is the child of God. Yet to become the true heir to the father's legacy, man must undertake profound spiritual discipline. Should one succeed in this practice, then afterward man and God, child and father, merge into a single consciousness. God dwells in human consciousness; God dwells in human consciousness. When man and God blend together into one undivided awareness, all the ultimate dimensions of life reveal themselves.
Non-dualism, polytheism, monotheism, cosmic Brahminism, atheism—none of these can fully explain God. From each there is something to learn, something to gain, something to receive. If one approaches with an open mind, the journey through life becomes far more peaceful. Yet one can also bind oneself in the shackles of blind adherence to a single doctrine—setting reason aside—and still live without much discomfort. It is the blind man who finds the light unsettling.
God dwells within; he is complete, yet we do not discover that completeness all at once—we must uncover it gradually; though he is apart from nature, by the grace of human consciousness he equally pervades all parts of nature; though engaged in all things, he remains forever a detached, eternal being.
Among all the powers that exist in nature, those that bring welfare to the world—their unified form is God. Everything in nature is bound by law. Even divine misfortunes occur by the force of law. Because suffering exists, man yearns to draw near to God's benevolence. In this sense, we may say: calamity too is an infallible path to the reception of divine power.
The question now arises: is God the object of worship, or is he the means? If worship is understood as an external act, then weeping and clasping hands in supplication, acknowledging oneself as infinitely small, pouring heart and soul into rituals—none of this will avail if the inner self does not awaken. Rather, true worship of God is this: to hold within the mind some virtue or quality of a being or person, and to work toward one's goal inspired by that very quality. Even an atheist, if unknowingly performs this deed, has in truth engaged in genuine worship. To unite the soul with truth—that is prayer, that is worship. Anyone can achieve this union, whether they are outwardly religious or not. Worship that does not foster humanity's growth, that brings no welfare to the people of the world—that is not worship at all, but at best the hollow externality of religion devoid of essence. Can there be any awakening of the soul in worship performed for show?
How is one to pray? To pray with tears forced from the eyes, palms pressed together in false humility like a beggar—this is nothing but hollow performance, unless prayer afterwards purifies the soul. To commit sin and then proceed to pray is mere hypocrisy. When prayer is woven from self-restraint, self-surrender, atonement, firmness of heart, and concentrated attention—these qualities of mind in concert—then we may become one with God, awaken the consciousness that dwells within our own spirit, and such prayer alone shows us the path to true good. A spiritual life awakened by God's consciousness is the highest source of welfare in this world.
It is true that some rise to the summit of success by breaking God's law and harming others. Good people fall into trouble; the wicked prosper day after day. Even when the virtuous suffer briefly, the wicked pay their debts in full—by becoming hollow. Those who live by God's law find that the sorrows which visit them in time only deepen their patience and strengthen their inner resolve. The wicked, meanwhile, falter step by step, growing weak—a truth plain for all to see. He whose life is driven by injustice and cruelty cannot taste the riches of righteousness. Falsehood endures for a season; truth endures forever. What is true needs no changing; but lies must be constantly remade to survive. The wicked build their house of sand; the good build theirs of stone. At first, the difference is not felt. But when the time comes, you see: whatever storm and rain may come, the good person's house stands firm, bearing all, while the wicked person's sand-built dwelling crumbles to dust in the blink of an eye. This is karma—God's judgment. This judgment is slow, but it is inevitable.