Passage 5

¹When Bhagavān declares, 'Whenever Dharma is harmed, I—though formless—take form, incarnate, raise Dharma again, and protect the sādhus,' a question may arise. Ordinary people may then imagine that Dharma itself is something that can truly perish and therefore is neither eternal nor true. ²Readers, consider carefully: from where has this sacred Dharma come, and for what purpose does it exist? Then the importance of protecting it becomes clear. Bhagavān created this world by His saṅkalpa, established many orders within it, and spread Dharmic laws so that those orders would remain in harmony. The word Dharma comes from the Sanskrit root dhṛ, 'to uphold, sustain, bear.' Dharma is that which upholds. The garment called Dharma is like a sacred pītāmbara given by Bhagavān to Bhārata: it protects the country and the embodied person, preserves dignity, gives protection, and also lends beauty. A garment does not merely cover modesty; it protects from cold and gives grace. In the same way Dharma preserves the dignity of the human being and the honour of a nation. Nor is Dharma only collective. Every created thing has been clothed with its own Dharma. Thus Dharma has both samaṣṭi, collective, and vyaṣṭi, individual, dimensions. ³Consider the pañca-bhūtas that support creation. Movement and coolness are natural Dharmas of water; heat and the power to burn are Dharmas of fire. Each thing has its own Dharma. Humanity is the Dharma of man; the nature of an animal is the Dharma of the animal. These function like protective armour that keeps each being from losing its characteristic power. If fire had neither heat nor the power to burn, who would call it fire? Its svarūpa and svabhāva reveal its Dharma. When those are lost, fire, as fire, is gone. Coal is what remains when that living fiery power is no longer manifest. ⁴In the same way, man has certain natural qualities as vital as life itself. These may also be called his powers. Only while they live in him does he deserve the name human. If he loses them, he has lost his humanity. Certain disciplines, reflections and ways of conduct are therefore essential for nourishing these life-giving powers. To preserve them is to preserve Dharma. Dharma has not come from somewhere else and it does not depart somewhere else. One's true svabhāva is Dharma. If a person feels that preserving his own natural divine qualities is a burden, it only shows that he has forgotten his own nature. Dharmic conduct means protecting the natural power present in each being and living in harmony with it. To violate its bounds and act merely as whim dictates is adharma. In the course of time, when those who cherish, practise and transmit Bhagavān's natural law become few, we say Dharma has 'declined.' But Dharma itself has not ceased to exist. It is like a true crop smothered by wild grass: artificial customs and useless growth can cover over the crop of natural Dharma until the real thing is hidden. Dharma-rakṣaṇa is the clearing away of those weeds so the true crop can rise again. In this Kali age Dharma remains much in speech but has become hidden in practice. Dharma is for living, not for verbal magic. Truth is to be spoken; Dharma is to be practised. ⁵From ancient times the Upaniṣads have cried out, 'satyaṁ vada—speak truth; dharmaṁ cara—live Dharma.' Today the essence of these sacred words is often forgotten, and people have begun merely talking about Dharma. That is the first fall. What should be done is neglected and what remains is discussion; that itself may be called adharma. What is not embodied in action has little strength. Just as certain creatures have strength only in their natural element, Dharma has strength in practice, not in speech alone. Satya expresses its strength through truthful speech; Dharma through right living. Here there are two kinds of power: paśu-bala, brute strength, and Dharma-bala, the strength of righteousness. For man, Dharma-bala is true strength; brute strength alone is not. Bhīma possessed immense bodily power. By itself it would be paśu-bala. But because Dharmaja stood at the centre of the Pāṇḍavas, Bhīma's strength became Dharma-bala. Dharma-bala protected the Pāṇḍavas. Had they possessed only brute force, they would have been defeated at the very beginning. What would the Pāṇḍavas be without Dharmaja? The Kauravas possessed every worldly kind of strength; why then were they destroyed? Dharma-bala was absent, so all their powers became merely brute powers. When Dharmaja and the Pāṇḍavas were driven into the forests, adharma entered the Kaurava kingdom. Therefore the Dharma-strength now hidden in the forests must return to villages and human society. Only then can peace, abundance and prosperity grow. We must move from the rule of adharma into the rule of Dharma. Effort is required to protect the crop by removing weeds; no effort is needed for useless weeds to grow by themselves. Likewise, every effort is now required to bring the natural crop of Dharma back into living practice. ⁶When Dharmic practice grows, adharma disappears by itself; no separate campaign against it is necessary. Therefore establishing the practice of Dharma is Dharma-sthāpana. To say 'the Sun has set' and to say 'Dharma has perished' are alike. The Sun does not truly cease to exist; it is only no longer visible from one place. Dharma too does not perish. How could what truly perishes be Satya? Dharma is joined to Satya and therefore cannot be destroyed. Dharma-sthāpana means bringing back into visibility and practice the true Dharma that has become concealed. This is precisely what Kṛṣṇa Paramātma is doing. Using Arjuna as nimitta, the occasion and instrument, He restores the ancient Dharmic actions that had become hidden. This is Dharma-uddharaṇa, the raising up of Dharma. One cannot raise what does not exist; one raises what is already there but obscured. Such work is not possible for ordinary capacity. Sarveśvara Himself therefore takes it up, placing the mighty Arjuna in His hands and teaching the world through him. If Arjuna were merely ordinary, he could not carry this sacred Dharma so effectively to the world. He had conquered both outer and inner enemies. Only one endowed with such divine strength can embody a Dharma of such power; merely preaching it to the powerless is of little use. Kṛṣṇa Paramātma chose His point of light well: He chose Arjuna as the lamp of Prajñā. The very flood of grace Bhagavān poured upon Arjuna tells us that Arjuna was no ordinary man. ⁷Once, speaking playfully with Arjuna—and the reader may taste the tenderness in this exchange—Kṛṣṇa Paramātma said, 'Dear one! You are My supreme bhakta; more than that, you are My life-friend. I have no other friend like you. That is why I have taught you this sacred and highest secret.' Reflect on the depth of this. Many in the world give themselves the title 'devotee.' But Bhagavān does not casually bestow the title, 'You are My bhakta.' The true bhakta is one who receives that recognition from Bhagavān's own heart. However loudly one calls oneself a devotee, if one's love does not move the heart of Bhagavān, it is merely self-satisfaction, not Ātma-tṛpti. Arjuna alone here receives the direct word, 'You are My bhakta.' From this we may understand the purity of his heart and his fitness for grace. Empty claims—'we are devotees, we are devotees'—are just words carried by the wind unless there is answering recognition from the Divine. Bhakti removes disobedience and separation. Kṛṣṇa also calls Arjuna His friend, because friendship removes fear. Bhakti and maitri—devotion and intimate friendship—together make one fit to receive this highest Vidyā and Bhagavān's grace. ⁸Now consider Arjuna's next movement. Taking Kṛṣṇa's words seriously, a great doubt arose in him—so heavy that he could hardly carry it. Such doubts can arise in any human heart, especially concerning spiritual truths where the inner meaning differs from the surface meaning. Ordinary minds seize the outer sense. To penetrate within, one needs either direct experience or the strength of grace; without either, spiritual statements can create still greater confusion. Doubt is no small thing. As a speck in the eye, a buzzing insect in the ear, a stone in the shoe, or a thorn in the foot destroys peace, so doubt within can torment a person like conflict in his own home. Since Arjuna stands as the representative of humanity, his doubt is the doubt of humanity. Only Mādhava, who is beyond the human limitation, can fully resolve it. Kṛṣṇa Paramātma is already there, ready to remove it and restore joy. What, then, is the doubt? ⁹Kṛṣṇa was born, as it appeared, near the end of Dvāpara Yuga; Sūrya belongs to an age far before Manu. How can the two be brought together? What relation could exist between the ancient Sun and Kṛṣṇa, who appears now? If we take only bodily chronology, the statement seems impossible. Then how could Kṛṣṇa have taught this Yoga to Sūrya? To hear something one does not understand or believe and simply remain silent would itself be foolishness. This troubled Arjuna more and more. Sarvavyāpī Parameśvara saw the unease within him and, gently stroking his back with a smile, asked, 'Dear one, something seems to be troubling you. Tell Me.' ¹⁰Given the opening, Arjuna held Kṛṣṇa's hands and prayed: 'Mādhava! I cannot understand Your words. Instead of making things clearer, they are drawing me into strange ideas and may even shake the little faith I have. Please forgive my doubt with love and resolve it. Otherwise I cannot stand steady.' ¹¹Gopāla happily asked him to state the doubt. Arjuna said: 'Kṛṣṇa! You said that long ago You taught this Yoga to the Sun and that the Sun later taught Manu. But in what age did Sūrya and Manu live, and in what age do You live? Did You teach it in this very body, or in another body? If You say in this body, I cannot believe it. This body is only a few years older than mine. When could You have taught Sūrya without my knowing? Sūrya is unimaginably older. And if You say, "Not this body, not this age—another birth, another body," the statement seems still harder to join together. How are deeds of an earlier birth remembered in this birth? Even if I accept that You remember them, should I not, like You, remember my own former births? Śāstra says that certain divine beings may remember earlier births, but ordinary people do not. Suppose I accept that You are a divine person—Sūrya himself is divine. If you are equals, why should one teach the other? If You taught him, You would be Guru and Sūrya disciple, which means You must be greater than Sūrya. And if I accept that You are indeed greater, even Bhagavān, another doubt appears: why should Bhagavān become dependent upon Karma like ordinary men, subject Himself to birth and death, and move in a five-foot human body? Does appearing in human form not contradict Your formless, all-pervading nature?' ¹²'Why should the Infinite, all-pervading One descend into such a small locus? Kṛṣṇa, however I think about it, I cannot understand. Your words may be clear to You, but my head is spinning. Give me a true answer and bless me.' ¹³Then the sage-like Gopāla smiled softly, pleased that the awaited moment had come. 'Dear one, listen. What do people mean when they say "sunrise" and "sunset"? Those expressions exist from the viewpoint of observers on earth, not from the Sun's own standpoint. The Sun does not really rise or set. Is that not so? I am the same. I have no birth. To ordinary human sight I appear to assume many bodies and take many births. Whenever the uplift of the world requires it, I assume a form and become visible through name and form. Yet I remember every such manifestation, for I am Sarvajña and Sarvaśakta. Not only I—you too, in truth, have passed through all this. But your power of knowledge is covered by ajñāna, and so you do not remember. I am of the nature of Jñāna; therefore all times are clear to Me. Dear one, if the Sun appears reflected in a mirror, does he thereby leave his place or lose his power? He remains exactly where he is and merely appears in the mirror. In the same way, when I am reflected in the mirror called Prakṛti, My omniscience and omnipotence are not diminished. I am birthless. Human birth comes because of puṇya and pāpa from previous Karma. Do not think Avatāra births arise from the same cause. Human birth is Karma-janma; My birth is Līlā-janma. The prayers and noble deeds of sādhus call Me; the evil actions of the wicked and the righteous actions of the good become the occasion for My manifestation.' Thus Kṛṣṇa taught.