In plain words
Volunteers, embodiments of the sacred Ātma!
‘Īśāvāsyamidaṃ sarvaṃ’: its meaning is that this world is fit for Īśvara to dwell in. For the infinite Īśvara to dwell in, this very world is the right place. Īśvara, whose form is infinite, dwells in this infinite world. The world is infinite. Time is transcendent. Humanness is very small. If man is to recognise the Satya that lies in this, the chief thing is to recognise God, whose form is the whole universe. This itself is the true religion of the people of Bhārata. We must make an effort worthy of the attempt to recognise the divinity within humanness. To think that we are serving some others is merely a mark of Ajñāna. When we recognise the Satya that Īśvara, whose form is infinite, is present even in every atom, how can our service be service to others? It turns into service of the Paramātma itself.
So every human being must recognise the Satya that whatever service he does, whatever word he speaks, whatever look he casts, whatever thought he thinks, comes about by the prompting of God alone. This is the inner meaning of service. Service does not mean merely going to hospitals, thinking you have done something or other for all the patients, or helping the lowly and those who have no one; that alone is not service. Service is not only a matter of receiving from you; you too must be ready to receive from others. The members of our Seva Dal must recognise the principle of give and take: Prema for Prema, heart for heart. A few minutes ago Kasturi told a story. He told how his grandson was living in Poona, how meanwhile his father-in-law died, and how even the people next door seemed to know nothing of it. And the reason for this? We keep to our own household, so do we ever ask after the people next door? So the people next door did not ask after us. If we had built up some ties of friendship and kinship with our neighbours and asked after their welfare, they too would have asked after ours. So the fault is our own. When we ask after the welfare of our neighbours, our companions and those close to us, and pay some attention to their good and bad fortunes, others will pay attention to ours. Even if others do not know, does Īśvara not know! Īśvara, at least, takes care to look into one's good and bad fortunes. So it is not right merely to grieve that someone did not ask after us.
The whole fault lies within us. It is because of the divided notions, ‘my people’ and ‘his people’, that duality of so many kinds grows in us. This alone opens the way for us to fall into suffering of many kinds, into quarrels and into unrest. So when we hold oneness as our principle and think of the Godhead as one, as a single collective form, we come to experience true service.
In this service some doubts may arise. Is there God or not? These, ‘He is not’ and ‘He is’, are the notions of the unbeliever and the believer. From time without beginning they have come along together, pursuing each other like a pair of birds. But neither those who say He is nor those who say He is not give a clear and convincing proof. Here is a small example of this. When someone is asked, ‘Who is your father?’, he says, ‘So-and-so is my father.’ What witness have you for saying that he, so-and-so, is your father? What proof have you? What ground have you? You have no divine eyes that saw your father at the moment of your birth. Nor have you the discernment to know by your own wits, ‘This is my father.’ Nor have you the discernment to know by your own wits, ‘This is my father.’ Since when have you believed that this man is your father? Because your mother taught you, ‘This is your father’, and showed it to you in many ways by her example, from that day on you have called so-and-so ‘my father’. Before that you did not know your father. You have no witness that he is your father. You have no direct proof that he is your father. What is the proof? Your mother alone is your proof.
In the same way, for the question whether God is or is not, today the mother called Prakṛti is our proof. In this Prakṛti many kinds of change keep coming to us. Many kinds of combinations keep taking place for us. We are coming to know some things we did not know. But what lies beyond, we cannot recognise.
In the world many are dying. Many are being born. What is the cause of this birth and this death? Man cannot make out what the paths are that lie between death and birth, who decides this, who rules over it. He sees birth; he sees death. But who it is, between death and birth, that decides and makes it all: that Satya no one can come to know.
We have built a building: if this hall stands here, there must surely be someone who built it. Whether you know him or not, there is such a person. Without that person's will, his power and his skill, this building would never have been built. In the same way, Prakṛti is visible to us.