Asceticism and illumination.

The Question: The Relationship between Asceticism and Illumination

How does asceticism contribute to the experience that is denoted by such terms as illumination, enlightenment, awakening, or realization? This experience, in which the sense of self is either effaced or greatly attenuated, which is deeply joyful, and which issues both in profound personal transformation and fresh insight into the ultimate nature of reality, is central to a great variety of religious traditions.

How are ascetic practices and this experience related? Why are practices such as fasting, celibacy, and simple living held by many traditions to be helpful, and in some cases necessary, to the attainment of illuminative experience? That there is a strong relationship between asceticism and illumination is presupposed by a great many spiritual traditions, which see ascetic practices as a necessary, although not a sufficient, condition for it. For even though they are not directly productive of this experience in precisely the same way that contemplative practices, such as meditation, are held to be, they are nonetheless seen as highly beneficial, and sometimes even essential, to the process of awakening. Why is this the case?

As a scholar of religion and a practitioner of Vedanta in the tradition of Sri Ramakrishna, the question of the relationship between asceticism and illumination is one that I find to be of both intellectual interest and practical significance. (1) For I am not only seeking, as a scholar, to understand how this relationship functions in the lives of others. I am also seeking, ultimately, to experience illumination myself.

My approach to this question therefore includes both comparative scholarly and practical Vedantic dimensions. It is, in other words, a theological approach--one that does draw upon the intellectual resources of the contemporary academy, but that ultimately pursues knowledge not for its own sake, but serves a spiritual practice and the community to which that practice is vital.

More specifically, my approach could best be characterized as a Hindu process theology. Rooted in the practice and broad worldview of the Ramakrishna Vedanta tradition, I have found in the process philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead (and other thinkers in the process tradition) an excellent way of articulating the many, varied teachings of Sri Ramakrishna as a systematic and coherent metaphysic. (2)

In keeping with the eclectic orientation both of my tradition and my own varied religious background, I shall examine the relationship of ascetic practice and illumination in a comparative context, with my central focus being upon Indic traditions: Vedanta (including both its modern and traditional forms), Buddhism, and Jainism, for different traditions illuminate this relationship from a variety of perspectives and in a corresponding variety of ways. (3) I see each tradition as offering a specific insight to the issue of asceticism and illumination.

A particular focus will be upon the Indic concept of the "two truths" as expressed by Sri Ramakrishna, Shankara, Nagarjuna, and Kundakunda--representing the modern Vedanta, Advaita Vedanta, Mahayana Buddhist, and Jain traditions, respectively. A part of my thesis is that the experience of illumination involves a radical shift in consciousness from the subject-object mode of perception, typical of the mundane, relative, level of truth, to a purified mode of perception, a mode that is either free from the subject-object distinction, or in which this distinction is greatly attenuated or profoundly modified, called the ultimate or absolute level of truth. In these terms, the question of the relationship of asceticism to illumination becomes that of the role of ascetic practice in facilitating this radical shift in consciousness.

I will also address the role of bhakti (devotion) in this transformative process and the issue of what Christians would call the relationship between "works" (such as ascetic practice) and "grace" in it. One sometimes notes a tension between practitioners and traditions that emphasize ascetic practice and those that emphasize illuminating grace, which is not the direct outcome or product of a practice, but which comes either from "outside" the practitioner, as a gift from a transcendent divinity, or from a depth level "within" that is nonetheless well beyond the boundaries of the practitioner's conscious ego.

But even in those traditions in which divine grace is given primary emphasis, one finds ascetic practices encouraged, not so much as a direct means to enlightenment, in an instrumental sense, but as in some way facilitating the reception of this divine gift. The question, again, is why this is the case.

Finally, I will also draw upon my own experiences as a practitioner of Vedanta in my attempt to articulate the relationship between asceticism and awakening as I conceive of it. Briefly, the conclusion to which I find myself drawn, is that the state of awakening is, in a sense, already "there"--a claim many traditions have made. Its attainment is then not so much a matter of reaching a goal or accomplishing a task as of creating the conditions in which what is already "there" can be realized. Asceticism is a tool for doing this. In this sense, I am at one with those traditions that deploy the "two truths" doctrine. But I also see an important place for theism and bhakti in the enlightenment process. In his teachings and practices, Ramakrishna emphasized the validity of both approaches, an emphasis that is fundamental to modern Vedantic universalism.

What is Enlightenment?

It would be helpful, first of all, to define with some specificity what, precisely, we mean when we speak of illumination. As a first attempt, several things can be said about experiences of this kind, as described by practitioners from a wide array of traditions.

Experiences of enlightenment typically involve a degree of transcendence of the sense of a separate subject and object, of a self and an other, which typically characterizes the mundane waking state. The degree of this transcendence of the subject-object distinction can vary among practitioners and traditions. That it can involve a complete effacement of the subject-object distinction is affirmed in traditions such as Advaita, or non-dualistic, Vedanta, as well as most forms of Buddhism. These traditions tend to emphasize either the absorption of the practitioner into an impersonal ultimate reality (nirguna Brahman, in the case of Vedanta) or the realization that there never was anything other than this ultimate reality to begin with. (4) Such a state of realization, illustrated by metaphors such as a drop of water falling into the ocean, is affirmed as a salvific goal in these traditions.

Alternatively, illumination can also involve, rather than a non-dualistic total effacement, a radical attenuation of the subject-object distinction, as in the experiences of a mystical union that are more prevalent in theistic traditions, in which the ultimate reality is a personal deity upon whom one is wholly dependent.

When speaking of theistic mystical union in contrast with absorption into an impersonal ultimate reality, which is characteristic of non-theistic traditions, one can say, perhaps, that the subject-object distinction is not so much effaced as collapsed. To use the terms of Martin Buber, it is not that the distinction between I and Thou is eradicated so much as that the I melts into the Thou--that the Thou becomes, for the I, all that there is. There is an emptying (kenosis) of the self into the other. Of course, something similar can be said about the more impersonal absorption experiences as well. The difference rests, at least to some degree, in the impersonalist claim that the subject-object distinction was never real to begin with, whereas the theist affirms that this distinction is a basic metaphysical fact.

Which of these two is "right" is a topic to which we shall return; for it is a major concern of Sri Ramakrishna's teaching to reconcile the two. In the service of articulating the modern Vedantic reconciliation of the experience of ultimate reality as an impersonal truth and the experience of ultimate reality as a divine personality, in mystical union, I shall draw upon the process concept of multiple ultimate realities. (5) Briefly, by "multiple ultimate realities," process thinkers are referring to the three distinct but metaphysically necessary beings making up existence: its abstract nature or "ground," the actual entities that make up the universe, and the divine consciousness that coordinates all of these into a coherent reality.

Illumination experiences also involve a deeply felt sense of what could be called the fundamental rightness of being, as reflected in the famous phrase "All shall be well" of St. Julian of Norwich, and often described as a feeling of profound bliss or joy. In modern Vedanta, the phrase "seeing God everywhere" is used to describe this experience of all-pervasive goodness. (6) Saints of many traditions have been sustained by such a realization, or the memory of it, through times of personal trial and suffering.

One emerges from such an experience with a sense of renewal, inner peace, and insight, all of which are reflected in a deep and enduring transformation that has both psychological and moral dimensions. The presence of these transformative effects and their durability are used by many traditions as a measure of the authenticity of the illumination experience. "By their fruits shall you know them." (7)

A topic to which we shall return as we deal with the relationship between asceticism and illumination is the dynamic in which the ascetic practices and the more general moral rules that traditions tend to prescribe for those seeking illumination also reflect the spontaneous behavior patterns of those who have attained it. For example, as Christopher Chapple also explores in his article in this issue, the vows that are prescribed for practitioners of yoga in Patanjali's Yoga Sutra, and the mahavratas and anuvratas of the Jains, are moral norms that are also prerequisites for higher spiritual attainment. Is the relationship of ascetic practices to illumination such that one becomes an illumined sage by behaving like an illumined sage? Why might this be so? And how does this process work?

Enlightenment, Liberation, and the Two Truths: Some Indic Perspectives

Turning now from a general discussion of enlightenment in a global comparative context to the specifically Indic traditions, it is important to point out that enlightenment is sought in these traditions not as an end itself, but in the service of the highest goal of all: moksha, or liberation, from samsara, the begin-ningless cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. (8)

Enlightenment and liberation--bodhi and moksha (or nirvana)--are so closely connected that they are often conflated, the two terms frequently being used synonymously, even by many practitioners and scholars within the Indic traditions. Enlightenment, or realization, is the state of awareness that is a necessary--and in some traditions, a sufficient--condition for moksha, the state of freedom from rebirth, the condition of no longer having to be born in a physical body, bounded by the limitations of time and space. (9) We shall see that whether enlightenment is a sufficient condition for liberation has implications for the emphasis placed on asceticism, at least conceptually, in specific traditions.

Enlightenment and liberation are so often spoken of synonymously because--particularly in traditions where enlightenment is both a necessary and sufficient condition for liberation--an enlightened soul is also, necessarily, a liberated soul. But one does sometimes see enlightenment and liberation distinguished, as in Jain accounts, in which a being first becomes enlightened--thoroughly grasping the causes of suffering and rebirth, and understanding what is necessary to end this process--and then, in an act of will distinct from the attainment of enlightenment, cuts off the ashravas, or "inflowings" of karmic imperfection that are what actually bind one to samsara. This "cutting off" follows soon upon, but is distinct from, awakening, which itself occurs in a series of stages (gunasthanas). (10)

The distinction between enlightenment and liberation suggests a distinction between what could be called gnostic approaches to the relationship of awakening to liberation--approaches in which the state of enlightenment is a sufficient condition for liberation, perhaps even constitutive of it--and approaches that suggest that something additional needs to be done, that some act of will must occur above and beyond enlightenment, in order for it to lead to liberation. The former approach, in which enlightenment constitutes liberation, is a characteristic of Advaita Vedanta. The latter, in which nirvana precedes moksha, but is not, technically speaking, identical with it, is found in both Buddhism and Jainism--though there is a noteworthy exception to this rule in the Jain tradition, as shall see shortly.

It is in Advaita Vedanta, Mahayana Buddhism, and in the teachings attributed to the Jain master, Kundakunda (or Kundakundacharya) that one finds a strong articulation of the doctrine of the "two truths." At its most basic, the doctrine of the "two truths" is the doctrine that, with respect to liberation and samsara, reality is essentially one. In other words, one does not, upon liberation "escape" from samsara to some other realm where there is unlimited happiness and freedom, although one may certainly speak in this way metaphorically. According to the "two truths" doctrine, enlightenment is constitutive of liberation because what liberation means is liberation from ignorance, from a false view of reality. The universe in which the enlightened sage lives and the universe inhabited by regular people is the same universe.

The perception of the enlightened sage, however, is not at all clouded by the false, limiting conditions of time, space, and subjectivity. Enlightened sages perceive reality as it truly is in itself--a noumenal reality. The rest of us inhabit the same universe as the sages, but we perceive it through the lens of the illusory subject-object distinction--and so phenomenally. Liberated beings don't "go" anywhere. (11)

In the Advaita Vedanta tradition, the two truths doctrine is best exhibited in Shankara's distinction between nirguna and saguna Brahman. According to Shankara, the true nature of existence is being, consciousness, and bliss (sat-chit-anandam)--unlimited and unconditioned--and so nirguna: without any limiting qualities. In keeping with the monistic teaching of the mahavakyas, or "great utterances" of the Upanishads, Shankara affirms that, "All this is indeed Brahman" (sarvam khalvidam brahman).

Due to maya--which can be translated both as "illusion" and as "creative power"--most of us do not typically perceive the true nature of existence as Brahman--as pure and unlimited being, consciousness, and bliss. We instead perceive a universe of multiple and varied beings, such as ourselves, with limited being, consciousness, and bliss. The universe of time, space, and rebirth is Brahman perceived through the veil of maya, and so saguna--or with limiting qualities. We are liberated when we pierce through the veil of maya with a true knowledge of Brahman. Therefore knowledge, or gnosis (jnana), is constitutive of liberation, or release from the cycle of repeated and compulsory birth and death. The ego being an illusion, there is no more "I" to be reborn.

It is not that this universe of time, space, and rebirth is completely unreal. Shankara tells us that maya is neither real nor unreal. Indeed, it is ultimately not different from Brahman--since Brahman is all there is. It is not "other" than Brahman. (12) But it is also not Brahman as Brahman truly is, in its pure, nirguna state. The goal is to move from this realm of the merely relatively real--the vyavahara satya, or relative truth--to the absolute truth--the paramartha satya. It is not, again, that these are different "realms" in a real, ontological sense. The shift, rather, is internal to oneself. It is a shift from a relative and limited perception of reality to an absolute and perfect perception of that same reality.

A similar conception is articulated some centuries before Shankara by Nagarjuna in the tradition of Mahayana Buddhism. (13) Critiquing trends in earlier Buddhist thought that he takes to be overly reifying, Nagarjuna asserts the shunyata--the emptiness or relativity--of all verbal formulations of truth. The ultimate truth realized in nirvana, is, according to Nagarjuna, beyond the reifying grasp of words and conceptual formulations. This even includes fundamental concepts and distinctions, like the distinction between nirvana and samsara. Because nirvana and samsara are both of the nature of shunyata, there really is no properly ontological distinction to be made between them. In the words of Nagarjuna:

    There is no distinction whatsoever between samsara and nirvana; and
    there is no distinction whatsoever between nirvana and samsara. The
    limit of nirvana and the limit of samsara: one cannot find even the
    slightest difference between them. (14)

There is no separate "realm of nirvana" distinct from the "realm of samsara." The apparent distinction between these two arises as a function of whether reality is seen from the perspective of the ultimate truth (paramarthasatya) or that of conventional truth (samvritisatya). The shift from samsara to nirvana entails a shift from engagement with the limitations of the conventional truth--with words and concepts, or, to use Nagarjuna's terminology, with "views"--to the "middle way" (madhyamamarga), in which one avoids grasping at either of the alternatives presented by our conventional, dualistic modes of thought and perceives reality as it is--free or "empty" (shunya) of such conceptualizations.

As mentioned previously, the weight of the Jain tradition appears to favor the idea of a distinction between enlightenment and liberation, in the sense that liberation requires a further act of will, of cutting off the intake of karmic energies into the soul, beyond the experience of illumination or awakening. But like Shankara for Advaita and Nagarjuna for Buddhism, Jainism, too, has a champion of the "two truths" doctrine in Kundakunda, who makes a distinction between what he calls the vyavaharanaya or "mundane perspective," and the nishcayanaya or "absolute perspective," which he also calls "ultimate" (paramartha) and "pure" (shuddha). (15) For Kundakunda, liberation consists of a shift from the mundane perspective to the ultimate. Such a shift is constitutive of liberation, rather than being a prerequisite for it.

In order to understand Kundakunda's distinction between these two perspectives, one must attend to the Jain doctrine of the complex nature of the jiva, or soul. On a Jain account, souls have a substantial, unchanging aspect (dravya), characterized by intrinsic qualities (gunas), such as infinite bliss, energy, and consciousness, as well as a constantly changing, karmically determined aspect, which includes their embodiment in physical forms of various kinds and their experiences, from moment to moment, of emotive and cognitive states (paryayas), release from which is the ultimate goal of the Jain spiritual path. Souls, though many in number (there being as many souls as there are living beings in the universe), are of one fundamental nature, not unlike the nature of Brahman in the Vedanta tradition. Beyond their numerical distinctiveness, the souls are distinguished by their karma, which is understood in the Jain tradition to be an actual physical substance. Kundakunda takes the distinction between the soul's essential nature and its accidental karmic distortions as his point of departure.

As understood by Kundakunda, the mundane perspective is the less reliable of the two perspectives, it being the karmically determined lens through which one perceives reality as characterized by emergence, perishing, and duration. (16) It is the perspective, in other words, of us normal, non-enlightened persons who are still trapped in samsara and have not yet experienced the eternal bliss and omniscience that is the true, substantial nature of the soul. If we experience the soul in its true nature, we perceive all things as they really are--the soul being omniscient. Otherwise, karmic matter distorts our vision.

On the other hand, the ultimate perspective, according to Kundakunda--the true or certain (nishcaya) perspective--is the nishcayanaya, which perceives the soul in its intrinsic, unchanging nature: as eternally blissful, energetic, and omniscient. This, according to Kundakunda, is the perspective the aspirant on the Jain path must try to cultivate. The vyavaharanaya, on the other hand, is deluded and must be finally be superseded, the understandings of reality it yields being relative and uncertain. But the nishcayanaya reveals things as they truly are. The understanding of reality this ultimate perspective yields, in contrast with that derived from the mundane perspective, is true and authentic.

Kundakunda's approach resembles Buddhist and Vedantic models of salvation, which locate the roots of spiritual bondage in ignorance, or avidya, a false consciousness of the true nature of reality, rather than in a state of affairs external to consciousness that causes such ignorance, as the Jain tradition affirms with its doctrine of material karmas obscuring the true, omni-conscious nature of the soul; for he seems, sometimes, to be saying it is not the bondage of the soul by karmic matter, but rather, the perception of it as being so bound, that is the real problem. As W.J. Johnson elaborates, for Kundakunda:

    ... [L]iberation is seen to be attained not by the destruction of
    that karman which (very tenuously) has been said to bring about moha
    [delusion], but by the destruction of moha itself through meditation
    on the essential purity and complete separateness of the soul. In
    other words, it is lack of knowledge of the true nature of the self
    which really constitutes moha; consequently, it is the knowledge
    (gnosis) and realisation of the self's true nature which banishes
    moha (ashuddhopayoga) and, by revealing and realising the inherent
    purity of the soul, accomplishes liberation. The role of material
    karman in this mechanism of bondage and liberation has thus for all
    significant purposes been forgotten. And it can be forgotten because
    the logic of the system no longer requires it. (17)

With regard to liberation, then, Kundakunda seems to take a position--like that of Buddhism and Vedanta--which holds that it is the transcendence of the realm of action--of karma--through gnosis which leads to liberation, rather than ascetic practice.

The Jain tradition, however, at least in its early form, seems to have leaned quite radically in the other direction. (18) From this perspective then, Kundakunda's views could be seen as constituting a major departure from mainstream Jain teaching. Instead resembling the 'two truths' theories of both Nagarjuna and Shankara, this approach seems to embrace a Buddhistic or Vedantic illusionism--or mayavada--in its account of the character of reality as perceived by ordinary, non-enlightened persons--for ordinary perception is ultimately delusory, and indeed a hindrance to liberation. As we have already seen, by conceiving of such deluded perception, or moha, as definitive of spiritual bondage rather than as an effect of such bondage, Kundakunda could be seen to embrace a similarly Buddhistic or Vedantic gnosticism regarding soteriology, in contrast with what could be called the 'karmic realism' of mainstream Jain thought.

Regarding the question of the relationship of asceticism to enlightenment, the important point here is that the Indic schools of thought which have adopted the doctrine of the two truths have, albeit to varying degrees, tended to downplay the importance of ascetic practice. This is especially true of Mahayana Buddhism, in which, in texts such as the Vimalakirtinirdesha Sutra, the possibility of householders attaining enlightenment--that is, persons who do not take ascetic vows as monks and nuns do--is strongly affirmed. In this particular, and highly influential, text, the householder Vimalakirti actually takes on the role of teacher to a group of Buddhist ascetics. While the superiority of monastic life continues to be upheld in Mahayana Buddhist practice, it is no longer regarded as an essential condition for enlightenment.

Similarly, although Shankara's Advaita tradition retained a strongly monastic orientation in practice, Shankara does claim that it is the inner attitude of renunciation, rather than formal asceticism, that is most important. (19) One of the texts most valorized by the Advaita tradition, and conspicuously so by modern Vedanta--the Bhagavadgita--is directed primarily to householders still actively involved in the affairs of the world.

As for Jainism, while the Jain community has maintained a strong ascetic orientation, it is perhaps not coincidental that Kundakunda's vyavaharanaya/nishcayanaya distinction has not played a very large role in the subsequent development of the Jain intellectual tradition, despite the great regard in which Kundakunda and his writings are held. (20) And Theravada Buddhism, in which one does not find the "two truths" concept articulated explicitly, is similarly marked by a continued commitment to the ascetic ideal of its founder. (21)

Clearly, the two truths doctrine, if one adopts it, problematizes asceticism; for if what is at issue in the pursuit of enlightenment is not so much a matter of action as one of knowledge or gnosis, then it is possible, at least in principle, for such gnosis to emerge without the practice of asceticism--not as a monk or nun, but as a householder, such as the famous king Janaka, who receives prominent mention in the Upanishads and is renowned in the later Vedantic tradition as a jivanmukta--one who has attained liberation while still alive, and while still retaining his role and responsibilities as a king, at that.

Even in the earlier Buddhist tradition, prior to Nagarjuna's articulation of the two truths, one finds the assertion that enlightenment is not a product of action. Despite the strong emphasis on ascetic practice that one finds in early Buddhism (at least relative to, for example, Japanese Mahayana Buddhism), it is never claimed that asceticism produces enlightenment. Otherwise nirvana would be a product of action, or karma, and so subject to the very impermanence from which it is an escape. Enlightenment simply is the way reality really is, once we perceive it without the distorting lens of desire. As the monk Nagasena explains to the inquisitive king Milinda, "Your majesty, nirvana cannot be made to arise, and no cause for its appearance has been proclaimed." (22)

The two truths doctrine therefore seems to suggest something almost like an idea of divine grace, albeit without a divine agent to bestow it. It seems to suggest, in other words, that enlightenment just happens. There is no action that can make it occur. It is not a product of karma. It is the mind, rather, reflecting the actual nature of reality.

In fact, in the Katha Upanishad, there is a most intriguing verse which suggests that enlightenment is not the product of any action on one's own part, but is a spontaneous gift from the self, a result of something very much like divine grace: "The self cannot be won by speaking, nor by intelligence or much learning. It can be won by the one whom it chooses. To him the self reveals its own form." (23) Of course--to anticipate the answer to this issue that I will suggest below--one can argue that, although one cannot make enlightenment happen, one can train the mind through asceticism to make it a worthy instrument of its reception.

However, it is important to note that the downplaying of asceticism that is made logically possible in a two truths model of enlightenment can be overemphasized. While one can argue that Jainism, which claims awakening is a necessary but not sufficient condition for liberation, has also placed a stronger emphasis on asceticism, asceticism does remain a strong emphasis in practice even in traditions that accept a two truths model, that hold that once one is awakened, one has accomplished what needs to be accomplished, the state of liberation not being different from the state of awakening, and the universe itself being fundamentally of the nature of mind.

Put simply, the adoption of the two truths model does not so much undermine asceticism in practice as give rise to the question, "Why do it?" This does not mean that answers to this question are not available. It simply means we have more thinking to do before we can say precisely what the connection between asceticism and enlightenment is.

Enlightenment and Grace

In terms of the typology of enlightenment experiences discussed earlier, all three of the traditions explored in the preceding section can be classified as traditions in which the dissolution of the subject-object distinction in enlightenment is held to be complete. These are not, in other words, traditions of loving mystical union with a personal divinity, but rather, traditions of realization of the nature of a reality that was already the case. In Advaita Vedanta, enlightenment is the liberating realization of the illusory character of all but the fundamental, nirguna nature of Brahman. In Mahayana Buddhism, it is the realization on an experiential--rather than merely cognitive--level that nirvana and samsara are empty (shunya). In Jainism, as interpreted by Kundakunda, it is the realization of the pure nature of the jiva as the ultimate truth, rather than its karmically bound and conditioned states. (24) We have also seen that two truths models of enlightenment operate from what could be called a broadly idealist ontology, in which reality is of the nature of mind or consciousness.

We have also seen, however, the verse from the Katha Upanishad that suggests that the mystical union is realized through the grace of a loving God, the distinction between oneself and whom is a basic ontological fact. Unlike the two-truths model of enlightenment, mystical union presupposes a dualist ontology in which real distinctions exist, and are indeed necessary to the experience of the union itself. A mystical union, as conceived by at least the mainstream of the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions, as well as the theistic traditions of Hinduism--especially the Vaishnava tradition--requires a duality between the practitioner and the divine reality. Such a union is not an effacement through realization of a unity that was actually always already the case, duality being an illusion. It is a real coming together of metaphysically distinct entities. An ontological distinction between God and world is affirmed throughout.

This has been one of the strongest objections that theistic practitioners have consistently made to attempts by practitioners of traditions like Advaita Vedanta to assert an ultimate unity of mystical experience. The two types of mystical experience have a basic metaphysical difference. They operate from logically incompatible ontologies. (25)

This has not only been an issue, as one might think, between Western theistic traditions such as Christianity on the one hand and Hinduism and Buddhism on the other. It has also been the major source of theological controversy within Hinduism, amongst the various systems of Vedanta. Lesser known in the West than Shankara's Advaita Vedanta are the Vishishtadvaita Vedanta of Ramanuja and the Dvaita Vedanta of Madhva. Reacting to the potential undermining of bhakti, or religious devotion, which they perceived in Advaita, Ramanuja and Madhva each develop interpretations of Vedanta that assert the reality of duality. Ramanuja's Vishishtadvaita, or "Qualified Non-Dualism," affirms the ultimate unity of all beings with Brahman, much as Advaita also does. But the unity that Ramanuja affirms is an organic unity, a unity into which a real diversity is integrated. Madhva's Dvaita, or Dualism, goes even further, making difference a fundamental category of existence. (26) Both of these systems have acted as theological supports for Vaishnava devotional practice, in which the cultivation of a loving union with the divine rather than an impersonal realization is the ultimate goal.

However, if the two truths model can actually be said to problematize ascetic practice, this seems even truer of the affirmation of the necessity of divine grace that characterizes theistic systems. If the experience of the divine can only "be won by the one whom it chooses," then how can any practice on one's own part--including ascetic practice--be effective in its realization? Significantly, ascetic practice has not been a primary emphasis in Vaishnava traditions, in which it is not the path of action (karma yoga) that is emphasized, but rather the path of loving devotion (bhakti yoga). (27) Though, as Ramdas Lamb emphasizes in his essay in this issue, ascetic practice is certainly not unknown in Vaishnava traditions, such as that of the Ramanandi sadhus. Nor is such practice incompatible with the cultivation of bhakti, but may in fact be pursued precisely for this purpose. (28)

Again, as with the two truths, this question is not a rhetorical one. But it is one that needs answering, and that returns us to our central issue: What is the relationship between ascetic practice and the experience of enlightenment?

The Two Truths, Grace, and Works: Ramakrishna's Integral Approach

As a practitioner in the Vedanta tradition of Sri Ramakrishna, I see the various issues we have raised thus far as converging in our Master's life and teaching. With my eclectic religious background and disposition, and a tendency to see profound truths in a variety of systems of practice and belief, one of the main characteristics that has drawn me to this tradition is its integral perspective, as illustrated in the life and teaching of its founder.

In Sri Ramakrishna's teaching, based upon his many years of practice and his multiple experiences of enlightenment, through various modes of practice and corresponding worldviews, one finds a convergence of the impersonalist systems of realization, with their two truths model of existence, and theistic systems, with their very strong emphases on loving devotion as not only the key to achieving enlightenment, but as its very essence.

As a process theologian in this tradition, I have also found that if one applies the system of process thought developed by Alfred North Whitehead as lens to interpret the teachings of Ramakrishna, one is able to discern an ontology in which both impersonalist and theistic models of enlightenment can coherently co-exist. The conflicts between their respective ontologies prove, in the end, to be merely apparent.

Finally, and most pertinently to the topic under consideration here, one also finds an answer to the question of the relationship of ascetic practice to spiritual awakening.

Ramakrishna, like Shankara, Nagarjuna, and Kundakunda before him, also teaches a doctrine of two truths. Amongst these three, the thinker whose system Ramakrishna's resembles most closely is Shankara, in that Ramakrishna is explicitly theistic. Buddhism and Jainism are not theistic traditions, at least in the conventional sense, and Nagarjuna and Kundakunda do not concern themselves a great deal with the question of God. (29)

But for Shankara, the universe of time and space, viewed through the veil of maya--the saguna dimension of Brahman--is a straightforwardly theistic one. God (Ishvara) does exist and, like the God of process metaphysics, co-exists with the myriad beings that make up the cosmos, guiding them on their path to liberation.

On Shankara's account, God guides beings to liberation pre-eminently by proclaiming the Veda at the outset of each cosmic epoch, which contains the teaching that the spiritual aspirant must internalize in order to transcend the saguna realm and realize Brahman as the Self within (atman). Bhakti, or total devotion to Ishvara in a personal form, is, according to Shankara, an effective device for purifying the mind of egotism, thereby leading it beyond the saguna realm, beyond name and form (and thereby, by implication, beyond theistic devotion) to the realization of nirguna Brahman. The personal forms which Shankara endorses are the five prominent deities of the Hindu tradition of his time: Ganesha, Shiva, Shakti, Vishnu, and Surya (the Sun).

As we have already seen, the primary complaint of subsequent Vedantic teachers against Shankara's Advaita system is not that it is atheistic (though this charge is sometimes leveled by very hard-core Hindu theists). It is that it finally subordinates bhakti to jnana, or gnosis, and the personal deity to the ultimately impersonal nirguna Brahman.

The great debate within Vedanta is thus joined between Advaita--with its two truths model of reality, which subordinates the personal to the impersonal and regards the ontological split between the human and the divine as a function of maya--and the various bhakti schools of Vedanta, like Vishishtadvaita and Dvaita--which, like Western forms of theism, emphasize the divide between the human and the divine as fundamental, and which uphold not enlightenment, in a gnostic sense, but devotion, and the grace of God, as ultimately desirable. The aim of bhakti is mystical union, not gnosis.

As we have seen, both approaches raise the question of the role of asceticism. At the same time, however, it must be emphasized that the renouncer--the sannyasi--is widely esteemed in the traditions represented by both approaches, and remains a highly respected ideal, even if ascetic practice is less central in dualistic forms of Vedanta than in Advaita.

Sri Ramakrishna retains Shankara's basic two truths model of reality--with God and the world on one side of the boundary of maya and nirguna Brahman on the other. However, in a move reminiscent of Nagarjuna, he equates these two. In other words, he does not privilege the enlightenment experience of the Advaitic sage over the bhakti experience of the theistic devotee.

The personal God and the impersonal Brahman are, for Sri Ramakrishna, simply different modes of the existence of the same being. "Kali," Ramakrishna's ishtadevata, or preferred form of divinity, "is verily Brahman, and Brahman is verily Kali. It is one and the same Reality. When we think of It as inactive ... we call It Brahman." (30) In a major departure from the Advaita tradition of Shankara, Swami Vivekananda, when articulating the kind of spiritual practice that Ramakrishna's integral approach entails, claims that rather than there being a single supreme yoga, or spiritual discipline, all of the yogas presented by the Hindu tradition are valid ways of achieving the goal of realization. Rather than subordinating jnana to bhakti or bhakti to jnana, Vivekananda affirms both as appropriate to different kinds of people. The yogas, he claims, correspond to different personality types. One is not superior to another. Each is appropriate to its respective practitioners. (31)

This, of course, raises a host of metaphysical questions, which I have attempted to address in my larger Hindu process theological project. How can the seemingly ontologically incompatible paths oriented, respectively, around the two truths and dualistic theism co-exist in a single, metaphysically coherent worldview? I shall simply say here by way of summary that if one views Sri Ramakrishna's teaching through the lens of process thought, one can see a way of articulating this teaching coherently by identifying the different modes of the reality of Brahman with different ultimate realities--or aspects of reality as a whole--that are seen as metaphysically necessary to process thought. The impersonal absolute of the two truths model and the personal deity of theism are both real features of existence. The traditional Vedantic system to which this view bears the strongest resemblance is Ramanuja's Vishishtadvaita, which sees Brahman as the Whole--an organic unity underlying the totality of an internally varied actual existence.

The nirguna Brahman of Advaita Vedanta, on this interpretation, corresponds to process philosophy's unmanifest principle of creativity, the eternal, abstract creative principle underlying all actual, temporal existence--the Ground of Being. The personal God is the Supreme Being--the pre-eminent manifestation of the eternal and unchanging creative principle in time and space, and guarantor of the smooth running of the cosmos. (32)

As it relates to the question at hand, the relevance of Ramakrishna's integral view of the various types of spiritual path (and my process interpretation thereof) is that it means the two main types of enlightenment experience in the world's religions--the impersonal enlightenment of the sage and the mystical union of the saint--are both metaphysically possible and mutually comprehensible without either one being reduced to the other. They are equally valid ways of experiencing different dimensions of ultimate reality at a depth level which, depending upon which dimension is the focus, either wholly effaces or radically attenuates the subject-object dichotomy upon which our conventional, non-mystical experience is based.

What does Ramakrishna have to say about the role of asceticism in reaching such an experience of awareness? As we have already seen, whether one is experiencing a state of being that was always already the case, as in the uncaused state of nirvana, or an intimate nearness to God, there is a sense in which any action that we take is irrelevant. If nirvana was always, in some sense, there, and is not produced by action, and if God reveals Himself or Herself to whom She or He wills, what role do we have to play?

Ramakrishna does not spend a great deal of time talking about specific ascetic practices, such as fasting. In keeping with the mainstream of Vedantic thought, both Advaitic and Dualist, he emphasizes, instead, an ascetic attitude--the renunciation of desire for anything less than God. The greatest obstacles to enlightenment, according to Ramakrishna, are lust and greed (kamini-kanchana). These must be renounced if either gnostic awakening or true bhakti is to arise. For his disciples who are capable of it, he recommends renunciation--the life of the sannyasi. But his dialogues reveal that he realizes this path is not suitable for all of his followers, advising his lay disciples to fulfill their worldly responsibilities, but with the minimum possible attachment.

What is the role of renunciation, both internal and external, for Ramakrishna? He gives an image, which is suggestive of the role that asceticism plays in the impersonal absolute and the personal deity revealing themselves. He says, "The breeze of grace is always blowing. Set your sail to catch that breeze." In other words, there is nothing we can do to cause enlightenment. But we can create conditions within ourselves that facilitate its occurrence.

Conclusion: Asceticism and the Spiritual Path

My own experiences of practicing in the tradition of Ramakrishna have repeatedly confirmed for me the fundamental truth of this tradition's broad and open approach to the spiritual path. The central practice of the Ramakrishna tradition is meditation. As an initiate, I cannot go into detail about what, precisely, is involved in Vedantic meditation. It does incorporate elements of jnana and bhakti--of Advaitic non-dualism and theistic dualism--to produce an experience that affirms both the impersonal and the personal character of ultimate reality.

Meditation, in all traditions, involves both active and passive dimensions. One engages in certain deliberate actions, such as sitting in a particular posture and breathing in a specific way. But what unites all of this is the quality of receptivity that these actions cultivate, when they are engaged in rigorously and systematically. In meditative states, one sets one's sail, to use Ramakrishna's metaphor, which is one's mind, to catch the breeze of either the divine grace or the divine essence of existence. To use another, contemporary metaphor, meditation is like tuning a radio or television to catch a frequency. As with nirvana and divine grace, one is not making the radio frequency happen. It is already there. It is being broadcast from beyond. It is already in the atmosphere. But one tunes one's mind in order to catch that frequency and be transformed by it.

Asceticism, for me, is part of tuning the radio, or setting the sail. One does not, in engaging in ascetic practice, make anything happen. But one prepares oneself for what is to come, making oneself receptive to the divine reality that one knows is there, but that one longs to experience as a lived reality, rather than a mere abstract doctrine or inspiring idea. By denying oneself simple pleasures--that extra bit of sleep in which one is tempted to indulge when it is time to get up and meditate, that snack which one would like to have prior to doing puja after a day of fasting, that idle and meaningless conversation which really does no one any good--one reminds oneself of the purpose of one's existence. One creates an inner environment characterized by an eagerness not for personal pleasure, but for the dawning of enlightenment. One thus cultivates an attitude of quiet expectation, which is the essence of meditation.

How does this work? The illumination experience involves an effacement or attenuation of the subject-object distinction, the sense of difference between one's bounded and limiting ego and the totality of Being or the Supreme Being (depending upon the type of practice in which one is engaged). (33) If the goal one wishes to attain involves the eradication of the ego, then a very useful and effective way to ready oneself for that experience is to begin working on the ego here and now. This, of course, involves self-denial: getting the ego used to being told "No." Moral virtues in general do in fact prepare us for enlightenment. In the words of Pravrajika Vrajaprana:

    All moral codes are based upon the ideal of unselfishness: placing
    others before ourselves, forcing the ego to play second fiddle.
    Following selfish desires is always a detriment to our spiritual
    life. Whether the action is great or small, any selfishness will
    make the veil of ignorance thicker and darker. Conversely, any act
    of unselfishness, however great or small, will have the opposite
    effect. (34)

Truly enlightened mystics--those who have experienced the transforming power of the ground of Being, or of intimacy with the Supreme Being--are generally free from ego. Or they wear their egos lightly, as Ramakrishna is said to have done. By imitating people of this kind, we can cultivate the insight that enables them to live this way spontaneously.

This of course raises an important critical question that is often posed by adherents of the Western theistic traditions toward gnostic spiritual paths such as Buddhism and Vedanta. If we cultivate the moral virtues and practice self-denial for the sake of our own enlightenment, are we not, paradoxically, being selfish? Should we not love others and do good works for their sake rather than for our own personal spiritual benefit?

I would suggest that posing the question in this way posits a false dichotomy between self and other. The dawning of spiritual consciousness, either in its impersonal forms or as mystical union, involves the undercutting of precisely this dichotomy. Do I do good for others or do I do good for myself? Why can it not be both? True compassion, in a Buddhist and Vedantic sense, is the realization that the division between "self" and "other" is an illusion. Even from theistic perspectives where this is not literally, ontologically true, it is nevertheless a division undercut by the realization of the organic interdependence of all beings--and pre-eminently, of all beings and God. True compassion involves perceiving the suffering of others as one's own.

By denying self, even in small ways, we undercut the foundation of ignorance: the ever-grasping, ever-desiring ego. This is where the paths of jnana and bhakti coincide, as well as the karma yoga of selfless service to others. It is also, arguably, the reason that ascetic practice is so widespread in the world's religious traditions, whether they be theistic, devotional traditions, or gnostic wisdom traditions. True gnosis issues in the realization that the separate self--the ego--is a delusion that cuts us off from the deeper underlying unity of existence. True devotion issues in the surrender of the individual self to the universal, divine self--to God, the "self" of the universe--such that we can say, "Not my will, but thy will be done." And one performs service in the purest sense when the thought of benefit to oneself, even spiritual benefit, is absent, and one sees only suffering that one seeks to eradicate as surely as if it were one's own.

Ascetic practice facilitates all three of these yogas, as well as the fourth yoga, the raja yoga, of meditation. For it is a training of the ego in the habit of denying itself, of letting go of its desire to constantly be indulged. The more the ego is indulged, the more difficult it is to overcome. But if it is already attenuated through the practice of renunciation--whether complete, as in the life of the full--time ascetic, the monk or the nun, or partial, as when laypersons, such as myself, deny ourselves in various small ways--then the divine breeze can catch our sails all the more easily, and carry us all to the other shore of liberation.

Works Cited

David Ray Griffin, ed., Deep Religious Pluralism (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005)

Brian Hatcher, Eclecticism and Modern Hindu Discourse (Oxford University Press, 1999)

W.J. Johnson, Harmless Souls: Karmic Bondage and Religious Change in Early Jainism with Special Reference to Umasvati and Kundakunda (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers Pvt. Ltd., 1995

Jeffery D. Long, Plurality and Relativity: Whitehead, Jainism, and the Reconstruction of Religious Pluralism (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Chicago, 2000)

Jeffery D. Long, A Vision for Hinduism: Beyond Hindu Nationalism (London: I.B. Tauris Pvt. Ltd., 2007)

Jeffery D. Long, Jainism: An Introduction (London: I.B. Tauris Pvt. Ltd., 2008)

Roger Marcaurelle, Freedom Through Inner Renunciation: Shankara's Philosophy in a New Light (Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 2000).

Jay McDaniel and Donna Bowman (eds.), Handbook of Process Theology (St. Louis, MO: Chalice Press, 2006)

Vasudha Narayanan, "Renunciation and Gender Issues in the Sri Vaisnava Community," in Vincent L. Wimbush and Richard Valantasis, eds., Asceticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002)

Swami Nikhilananda, The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (New York: Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center, 1942)

Anantanand Rambachan, The Limits of Scripture: Vivekananda's Reinterpretation of the Vedas (Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press, 1994)

Deepak Sarma, An Introduction to Madhva Vedanta (Ashgate Publishing, 2003)

Swami Shraddhananda, Seeing God Everywhere (Hollywood, CA: Vedanta Press, 1996)

John S. Strong, The Experience of Buddhism: Sources and Interpretations (Third Edition) (Belmont, CA: Thomson Higher Education, 2008)

Umasvati (Nathmal Tatia, trans.), Tattvartha Sutra: That Which Is (New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 1994)

The Upanishads (Valerie J. Roebuck, trans.) (Penguin Classics, 2003)

Swami Vivekananda, Complete Works (Kolkata, India: Advaita Ashrama, 1989)

Pravrajika Vrajaprana, Vedanta: A Simple Introduction (Hollywood, CA: Vedanta Press, 1999

Paul Williams, Mahayana Buddhism: The Doctrinal Foundations, London and New York: Routledge, 1989

Notes

1. Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa (1836-1886) is a renowned Hindu saint of nineteenth century Bengal. The spiritual master of Swami Vivekananda (who, after Ramakrishna's death went on to establish the Ramakrishna Mission in India and its Western branch, the Vedanta Society, in America and Europe), Ramakrishna, along with Vivekananda and Mahatma Gandhi, is probably the most influential figure of the modern Hindu tradition. Known for spontaneously going into a deep trance state, or samadhi, and for his teaching of the transcendent unity of all religions, Ramakrishna incorporated into his practice and teaching both the impersonal ideal of Advaita Vedanta--absorption in the eternal, formless or nirguna Brahman--and intense devotion to the personal, saguna forms of God.

2. In drawing upon process thought my approach is similar to that of Christian process theologians like Jay McDaniel, who is also a contributor to this issue. When I say process thought has given me a way to articulate Ramakrishna's varied teachings as a coherent and systematic metaphysics, this is not in any way to denigrate his teachings. But he did not teach a systematic metaphysics. He taught in a spontaneous fashion, delivered with the particular needs of his interlocutors in mind. My understanding is that an implicit system of thought does indeed underlie his teachings--one that is particularly conducive to an explication in process philosophical terms.

3. On the eclectic character of modern Vedantic discourse, see Brian Hatcher, Eclecticism and Modern Hindu Discourse (Oxford University Press, 1999). While my approach may appear like that of a secular, comparative scholar of religion in that I draw upon a variety of traditions and sources in exploring the question of the relationship between asceticism and illumination, such a pluralistic approach is characteristic of the constructive theological method employed in modern Vedanta, with its claim that there are many valid paths to God-realization. For my own eclectic religious background, see the autobiographical introduction to my book, A Vision for Hinduism: Beyond Hindu Nationalism (London, I.B. Tauris Pvt. Ltd., 2007). Briefly, before identifying myself as a Hindu in the Ramakrishna tradition, I was raised Roman Catholic, and have had, in the course of my journey, varying degrees of involvement with Buddhism, New Age thought, and the Baha'i Faith, as well as engaging in some amount of study of all the major traditions. I was drawn to Hinduism from an early age by its ability to assimilate the insights of many faiths.

4. One must be cautious to avoid conflating Buddhism and Advaita Vedanta as essentially "saying the same thing." Although the modern, universalist Vedantic tradition sees the Advaitic goal of Brahmanirvana and the Buddhist goal of nirvana as being not fundamentally different, one must respect the choices of practitioners to express their goals and their experiences in their own ways. Nirvana literally means "absorption" of a flame from an actual to a potential state, but implies no particular view about into what the flame is absorbed. The Vedantic term Brahmanirvana, as found in the Bhagavadgita, means, quite explicitly, "absorption in Brahman." Vedanta is quite clear that even if that into which one is ultimately absorbed is nirguna--without qualities--it is nevertheless an "it"--a reality (albeit not an "object" in the conventional sense). Buddhist traditions, on the other hand, tend to be non-committal on this topic--or even to take the contrary position, that there is no absorption "into" anything. As a Vedantin, I naturally tend to interpret the Buddhist experience through the matrix of a Vedantic worldview. So when I hear Buddhists speaking of nirvana, I typically take them to be speaking about absorption into the same reality which I call nirguna Brahman, but to be refraining from speaking about it as a "reality" or an object for principled reasons that are fully in harmony with my Vedantic worldview. But if, as a scholar, I am interpreting the Buddhist experience to others, I have a duty to add that seeing Buddhism and Vedanta as finally converging upon the same type of unitive mystical state is a function of my own perception, and is not an interpretation of their experience with which all Buddhists would agree (though I know a great many who do).

5. The implications of the idea of multiple ultimate realities for religious pluralism have been explored by the Christian process theologians John Cobb and David Ray Griffin in a number of their respective writings, culminating with Griffin's edited volume, Deep Religious Pluralism (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), to which I contributed the article entitled "Anekanta Vedanta: Toward a Deep Hindu Religious Pluralism" (130-157). I expand upon this idea further in A Vision for Hinduism, mentioned in endnote 3, above.

6. This is also the title of a book by a deeply respected monk of the Ramakrishna Order, Swami Shraddhananda (Hollywood, CA: Vedanta Press, 1996).

7. Matthew 7:16

8. One could argue that Mahayana Buddhism is an exception to the claim that the goal of all Indic traditions is moksha, or liberation from rebirth; for Mahayana Buddhism values the path of the Bodhisattva, who remains in samsara in order to show the way to nirvana to other beings, over what it regards as the inferior goal of the Arhat, which is personal nirvana, entailing liberation. But despite the existence of Mahayana texts that can certainly lend themselves to the view that moksha is not the ultimate goal of the Bodhisattva, a closer examination reveals that the situation is actually far more complex than this. The aim of the Bodhisattva, ultimately, is Buddhahood, which involves, according to Mahayana thought, a form of nirvana superior to that of the Arhat; for it is a nirvana the attainment of which involves drawing many, many more beings to the state of liberation than oneself alone. It is, one could say, a collective rather than an individual nirvana. But it is not true that Bodhisattvas will never enter the state of nirvana, perpetually remaining in samsara to rescue more beings. In the words of a Tibetan Lama, if this were the case, "all those who had become Bodhisattvas would not become enlightened, while those who had not become Bodhisattvas would!" (cited in Paul Williams, Mahayana Buddhism: The Doctrinal Foundations, London and New York: Routledge, 1989, pp. 52-53) The Bodhisattva does, ultimately, enter a state of nirvana. But it is the superior nirvana of a Buddha, a nirvana that entails first remaining in samsara longer than she or he must (although not, strictly speaking, forever) in order to help other beings reach nirvana as well, and finally reaching the 'non-abiding' nirvana of a Buddha, which in a sense transcends the categories of nirvana and samsara. For a Buddha is, in a sense, "in" samsara, in being available to help suffering beings, but she or he has also gone beyond it, in the sense of not suffering or being bound by karma (as a Bodhisattva is, albeit residually, tenuously, and, most importantly, voluntarily). And freedom from karma and rebirth is the definition of moksha. So the proper qualification would be not that all Indic traditions except Mahayana Buddhism have moksha as their goal, but that, whereas most Indic traditions focus on the personal attainment of moksha, Mahayana emphasizes the universal attainment of moksha, and incorporates into its path as an essential element a willingness to sacrifice, for quite a long period of time (billions upon billions of eons in some cases), the former goal for the sake of the latter.

9. Again, with reference to the discussion of the Bodhisattva in the preceding footnote, the key words here are "having to be born." A Bodhisattva chooses to remain in samsara longer than he or she has to in pursuit of the superior nirvana of a Buddha. Inasmuch as this is a voluntary act, the Bodhisattva has, in fact, attained moksha, though she or he has chosen not to actualize it.

10. The duration between the attainment of the final stage of enlightenment and liberation is a few seconds.

11. Swami Vivekananda summarizes the idea thus: "The Vedanta never contended that there was a noumenal and a phenomenal world. There is one. Seen through the senses it is phenomenal, but it is really the noumenal all the time." (Swami Vivekananda, Complete Works V, 279).

12. Brahman being "One alone, without a second." (ekam evadvitiyam).

13. Most scholars agree that Shankara lived in the 8th century CE. Nagarjuna is generally located around the 1st or 2nd centuries CE.

14. Nagarjuna, Mulamadhyamakakarika_ [Root Verses on the Middle Way], 25:19-20, as translated by John S. Strong, The Experience of Buddhism: Sources and Interpretations (Third Edition) (Belmont, CA: Thomson Higher Education, 2008), 162.

15. The dating of Kundakunda's life is controversial. He is likely to have lived some time between Nagarjuna and Shankara. All three figures, interestingly, are believed to have lived in the southernmost portion of India, and it is tempting to speculate that all three are tapping into a common south Indian intellectual tradition that emphasizes the notion of two levels of truth--absolute and relative.

16. Umasvati, Tattvartha Sutra 5:29. For the mainstream Jain philosophical tradition, this is the definitive statement of the nature of existence, though for Kundakunda this is only true of the relative, vyavahara level of reality.

17. W.J. Johnson, Harmless Souls: Karmic Bondage and Religious Change in Early Jainism with Special Reference to Umasvati and Kundakunda (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers Pvt. Ltd., 1995), 141

18. Ibid, 4-45

19. This, at least, is the argument of Roger Marcaurelle, which I find quite compelling; for he has meticulously examined the corpus of Shankara's Sanskrit writings. See Roger Marcaurelle, Freedom Through Inner Renunciation: Shankara's Philosophy in a New Light (Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 2000).

20. See my forthcoming Jainism: An Introduction (I.B. Tauris Pvt. Ltd.) as well as my unpublished doctoral dissertation, Plurality and Relativity: Whitehead, Jainism, and the Reconstruction of Religious Pluralism (University of Chicago, 2000).

21. It is not articulated in Theravada Buddhism to my knowledge, though it is of course possible that my knowledge is lacking in this regard.

22. From the Milindapanho [Questions of Milinda], translated by John S. Strong in Strong 2008, 118.

23. Katha Upanishad, 2:23, translated by Valerie J. Roebuck, The Upanishads (Penguin Classics, 2003), 280. Emphasis mine.

24. Recent scholarship suggests that rather than speaking of "Kundakunda" in the singular, we should, rather, make reference to a Kundakunda tradition, the writings attributed to this sage being perhaps the product of a series of teachers continuing a particular Jain school of thought. This historical point, however, is not especially pertinent to the point of this paper.

25. Though, as we shall see, this logical incompatibility is not insurmountable if both are qualified not as total worldviews, but as valid frames of reference within a larger, more comprehensive system--which is what I take Ramakrishna's Vedanta to entail.

26. See Deepak Sarma, An Introduction to Madhva Vedanta (Ashgate Publishing, 2003).

27. See Vasudha Narayanan, "Renunciation and Gender Issues in the Sri Vaisnava Community," in Vincent L. Wimbush and Richard Valantasis, eds., Asceticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002).

28. Ramdas Lamb, "Devotion, Renunciation, and Rebirth in the Ramananda Sampraday," in this issue of CrossCurrents.

29. Though if one extends the meaning of "theism" to encompass the idea of a supremely sacred reality, these traditions, and these thinkers, would be, in that broad sense, theistic. They are certainly not atheistic in the contemporary sense, which involves commitments to materialism and nihilism as well as the denial of a creator deity. While these traditions have no place for a creator deity, Kundakunda dedicates considerable discussion to the "Supreme Self" (paramatman). And the dharmakaya, the cosmic "Truth Body" of the Buddha--discussed in one of Nagarjuna's texts and elaborated upon considerably by later Buddhist thinkers--certainly bears strong resemblances to Vedantic concepts of Brahman as the Unmanifest, which appears as the many deities of Hinduism (as well as all other beings and the world itself).

30. Swami Nikhilananda, The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (New York: Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center, 1942), 134.

31. See Anantanand Rambachan, The Limits of Scripture: Vivekananda's Reinterpretation of the Vedas (Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press, 1994).

32. For a more detailed and adequate account of this process interpretation of Ramakrishna see A Vision for Hinduism, particularly the second chapter, entitled "Ramakrishna Meets Whitehead" (Long 2007, 59-100) and my article in Jay McDaniel and Donna Bowman's Handbook of Process Theology (St. Louis, MO: Chalice Press, 2006), 262-273.

33. Or in some cases, both, where one senses the intimate presence of the Beloved, but also the eternal vastness of the Beyond. This has been my experience in my practice in the Ramakrishna tradition.

34. Pravrajika Vrajaprana, Vedanta: A Simple Introduction (Hollywood, CA: Vedanta Press, 1999), 38-39.