Dr. Julius Lipner

This piece by Dr.Lipner presents a frank and personal accountof his impressions of an ISKCON gathering in Radhadesh,,Belgium.We are poised here with sincere questions, sympathetic perspectives,philosophical observations and challenge. How are we to receivesuch a piece? We invite our readers to respond to Dr. Lipner's observationsand to frankly address the important issues he has raised. 

I must begin this short essay with an apology to Saunaka Rsi Dasa and to my readers. I was honoured to be invited and privileged to attend the Third European Communications Seminar of ISKCON at Radhadesh, ISKCON's main centre in Belgium, in June 1992.  I understand that I was the first 'outsider' or non-ISKCON member, to attend such a meeting as an observer and speaker.  Saunaka had asked me to record my impressions briefly, but - as is the way of the world - one thing or another seemed to conspire to get in the way of my doing so. This should have been written long ago; it is a tribute to Saunaka's persistence that it has finally appeared in print. You must judge whether it is worth the effort or not; in any case, I apologise for the delay.  Perhaps the delay has brought one positive advantage.  Inevitably, I have had longer to ponder my experiences at Radhadesh and to write from a more mature perspective. What I say, I say out of sincerity and empathy; I trust I will not be misconstrued.

I begin with a vivid impression: my first morning's waking experience at Radhadesh. The half-light of dawn was filtering through the thin curtain of my room; as I looked around groggily I seemed to be conscious of the heaving, gentle resonance of an immense swarm of bees throughout the building. Suddenly realisation dawned; this was the devotees muttering the maha mantra under their breath as they walked up and down the corridors. The days began early during that conference, with the devotees of Madhusudana, drawn from virtually every corner of Europe, flocking to offer him the honey (madhu) of their thoughts.

As a religious person myself, I think I understand the demands of total commitment to God.  However, such commitment must not be oppressive; it can bear fruit only in a personal and communal environment of growth and peace. On a number of occasions - while strolling in the ample grounds, or wandering about between sessions of the conference - I passed devotees as they recited the maha mantra.  Invariably their faces were tense and introspective.  They rarely had the time to exchange a friendly glance or smile; they seemed to be engaged not in a labour of love, but in a chore that closed them off from human contact and that weighed them down.  These impressions were confirmed in a remarkable session of the conference during which, in what I understand was an unparalleled display of frankness for such a public forum, a number of householder-devotees, both male and female, expressed how difficult they found it to fulfil their daily obligations to the maha mantra and also run a home or raise a family. I was deeply impressed, not only by their courage, but by the great sincerity of their struggles. Similar problems have been encountered by the fully committed in other religious traditions.  But how will the issue be resolved in ISKCON?  It seemed that the monks in the gathering, to whom ordinary devotees might look for guidance and who did not have the same family commitments, found it difficult to offer realistic advice. Again, this is a familiar problem in other religious traditions.  How can the recitation of the maha mantra, the fulfilling of one's religious obligations, be a liberating, leavening force in one's life? Should the daily recitation of the maha mantra be, not abrogated, but re-interpreted so as to express Krsna's and Prabhupada's unbounded graciousness and compassion for one's circumstances in life? In Bhagavad-gita, 18.66, the carama-sloka or highest teaching for many Vaisnava theologians, Krsna declares: 'Having forsaken (parityajya) all rulings (sarva-dharman), come to Me as your sole refuge. I will deliver you from all sins; don't worry'.  How to take Krsna at his word?

I remember being increasingly delighted to discover that the salient feature of that international conference was its genuine openness - even in the presence of an outsider.  I was taken in friendly trust and I rejoiced in that honour.  I was free to go where I wished, to converse with whomsoever I desired, to say what I wanted. As I have already intimated, the devotee-participants themselves seemed to shake off all constraints, as if realising the significance of the opportunity. In a communications seminar, it was vital to communicate, to reach out to one another, to grasp the moment and shape the future. In that gathering, ISKCON had come of age.

'To shape the future' in the light of the past. To reiterate the theme of my own address, ISKCON was - I believe still is - at the crossroads.  The movement has had a history of about twenty-five years; as we approach the end of the millennium, the future beckons.  Will ISKCON last through the twenty-first century? As a Christian, or more precisely, if also more controversially, as a Hindu-Catholic, I have forged a theology of goodwill, which acknowledges and celebrates God's gracious action in all people, in all movements. This includes ISKCON.  God works wondrously - through His maya - to accomplish the divine purpose in human affairs.  Ultimately, this purpose desires the fulfilment, the salvation of the whole world (lokasamgraha), living and non-living.  We are invited to co-operate with this wondrous plan.  We cannot do so by drawing a magic circle of light, in which we include our own Church or movement and consigning those in the darkness outside to perdition. This form of retreat from the world, I believe, is based on a failure to understand a basic teaching of both Christian and Vaisnava scripture. There is no magic circle of light: the whole world lies under the sovereignty of God's grace in patches of both light and shadow; it is the battleground -Kuruksetra - of God's saving action. We must fight the good fight by striving to understand God's purpose in the world, even in apparently the most unpromising and deceptive situations. In this way we can turn shadows into shafts of light, manifest evils into blessings in disguise. There will be many failures;  that is only to be expected.  But ultimate victory is assured.  Has not Christ, the divine word made flesh, become one of us, rising through death and evil as the firstborn from the dead.  Has not the Lord Krsna declared His redeeming solidarity with the very stuff out of which the worlds are made?:  'Though I remain unborn and essentially changeless, the very Lord of all beings, having interacted with Nature which belongs to me (prakrtim svam adhisthaya) I manifest myself by my wondrous power (sambhavamy atma-mayaya;).' (Bg. 4.6). These words found a theology of outreach to the world in hope, not a theology of the drawbridge. The world belongs to God and there are a great many who may not know the divine name, but who work for God's cause.  Fortress ISKCON will not see the next century through; it will crumble behind its drawbridge.  Survival, on the other hand, and even growth, will depend on a theology of judicious affirmation of and openness to the world based on a non-utilitarian ethic (niskama karma).  This calls for engagement, for adaptation to the world - in dress, in occupation, in education.  It is this way of life, not withdrawal, that will confound the asuric powers of consumerism, militarism, and materialism.

I saw signs of this theology of hope during the Conference, in the very fact that I was present, in the spontaneity and joyousness of the worship, in the discussions I had, in the tone and content of the other addresses. Are there ISKCON theologians busy in the construction of such a theology?  Is there an authoritative policy to spread this encouraging word among the devotees?

Finally, let me comment upon two potential sources of trouble with two of the most powerful potential resources of ISKCON as it faces the future - the status and role of the female devotees, and the position of the children.

There were a number of female devotees at the Conference, and I was heartened to see that one or two gave addresses. The standard of these addresses was as high as any other; they made enriching and distinctive contributions (i.e. contributions that could not have been made by the men). But they were numerically in a tiny minority; most of the female devotees were called upon only to cook, serve and listen. ISKCON needs all the help it can get in the years ahead.  Unless it succeeds in convincing the female devotees that they have an equally important role to play - not only physically, but also intellectually and spiritually if they so desire - an immense resource will be wasted. More importantly, ISKCON's prospects for the future will be seriously undermined. It seems to me, from what I heard and saw, that the role of women must be reconstructed in ISKCON.

One of the most poignant experiences I had during my short stay was a brief discussion with some of the ISKCON teenagers. They spoke with simple but painful sincerity: it seemed they did not know who they were. They were caught in an identity-crisis.  They found it difficult to relate to their own community of elders and impossible to relate to non-devotees. They sensed that the traditional forms of education, of upbringing, of dress, were alienating them, not only from the world outside, but also from themselves. What seemed to me to be non-essentials obstructed their ability to commit themselves to the essentials of ISKCON.  As such, were they a source of strength and growth for the future? This takes me back to the theology of change and openness that I spoke of earlier. Every other religious tradition that seeks to survive in a changing world needs to construct such a theology, based on a careful study of the authoritative texts and traditions. ISKCON has the scriptural and intellectual resources to attempt this urgently, for its own survival, for the sake of the children.

These are condensed thoughts, but I hope they point helpfully in the right direction.  Let me conclude by expressing my gratitude for the opportunity to attend the Conference, for its generous hospitality to me and for being able to write this essay. I came away having made new friends and having learned many things, not least about the ways of the divine presence in the world and among all persons of goodwill.