The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 4/Lectures and Discourses/The Practice of Religion
THE PRACTICE OF RELIGION
(Delivered at Alameda, California, on April 18, 1900)
We read many books, many scriptures. We get various ideas from our
childhood, and change them every now and then. We understand what is meant
by theoretical religion. We think we understand what is meant by practical
religion. Now I am going to present to you my idea of practical religion.
We hear all around us about practical religion, and analysing all that, we
find that it can be brought down to one conception — charity to our fellow
beings. Is that all of religion? Every day we hear in this country about
practical Christianity — that a man has done some good to his fellow beings.
Is that all?
What is the goal of life? Is this world the goal of life? Nothing more? Are
we to be just what we are, nothing more? Is man to be a machine which runs
smoothly without a hitch anywhere? Are all the sufferings he experiences
today all he can have, and doesn't he want anything more?
The highest dream of many religions is the world. ... The vast majority of
people are dreaming of the time when there will be no more disease,
sickness, poverty, or misery of any kind. They will have a good time all
around. Practical religion, therefore, simply means. "Clean the streets!
Make it nice!" We see how all enjoy it.
Is enjoyment the goal of life? Were it so, it would be a tremendous mistake
to become a man at all. What man can enjoy a meal with more gusto than the
dog or the cat ? Go to a menagerie and see the [wild animals] tearing the
flesh from the bone. Go back and become a bird! . . . What a mistake then to
become a man! Vain have been my years — hundreds of years — of struggle only
to become the man of sense-enjoyments.
Mark, therefore, the ordinary theory of practical religion, what it leads
to. Charity is great, but the moment you say it is all, you run the risk of
running into materialism. It is not religion. It is no better than atheism -
a little less. ... You Christians, have you found nothing else in the Bible
than working for fellow creatures, building . . . hospitals ? . . . Here
stands a shopkeeper and says how Jesus would have kept the shop! Jesus would
neither have kept a saloon, nor a shop, nor have edited a newspaper. That
sort of practical religion is good, not bad; but it is just kindergarten
religion. It leads nowhere. . . . If you believe in God, if you are
Christians and repeat everyday, "Thy will be done", just think what it
means! You say every moment, "Thy will be done", really meaning, "My will be
done by Thee, O God." The Infinite is working His own plans out. Even He has
made mistakes, and you and I are going to remedy that! The Architect of the
universe is going to be taught by the carpenters! He has left the world a
dirty hole, and you are going to make it a beautiful place!
What is the goal of it all? Can senses ever be the goal? Can enjoyment of
pleasure ever be the goal? Can this life ever be the goal of the soul? If it
is, better die this moment; do not want this life! If that is the fate of
man, that he is going to be only the perfected machine, it would just mean
that we go back to being trees and stones and things like that. Did you ever
hear a cow tell a lie or see a tree steal? They are perfect machines. They
do not make mistakes. They live in a world where everything is finished. ...
What is the ideal of religion, then, if this cannot be practical [religion]?
And it certainly cannot be. What are we here for? We are here for freedom,
for knowledge. We want to know in order to make ourselves free. That is our
life: one universal cry for freedom. What is the reason the . . . plant
grows from the seed, overturning the ground and raising itself up to the
skies? What is the offering for the earth from the sun? What is your life?
The same struggle for freedom. Nature is trying all around to suppress us,
and the soul wants to express itself. The struggle with nature is going on.
Many things will be crushed and broken in this struggle for freedom. That is
your real misery. Large masses of dust and dirt must be raised on the
battlefield. Nature says, "I will conquer." The soul says, "I must be the
conqueror." Nature says, "Wait! I will give you a little enjoyment to keep
you quiet." The soul enjoys a little, becomes deluded a moment, but the next
moment it [cries for freedom again]. Have you marked the eternal cry going
on through the ages in every breast? We are deceived by poverty. We become
wealthy and are deceived with wealth. We are ignorant. We read and learn and
are deceived with knowledge. No man is ever satisfied. That is the cause of
misery, but it is also the cause of all blessing. That is the sure sign. How
can you be satisfied with this world? . . . If tomorrow this world becomes
heaven, we will say, "Take this away. Give us something else."
The infinite human soul can never be satisfied but by the Infinite itself
.... Infinite desire can only be satisfied by infinite knowledge — nothing
short of that. Worlds will come and go. What of that? The soul lives and for
ever expands. Worlds must come into the soul. Worlds must disappear in the
soul like drops in the ocean. And this world to become the goal of the soul!
If we have common sense, we cannot be satisfied, though this has been the
theme of the poets in all the ages, always telling us to be satisfied. And
nobody has been satisfied yet! Millions of prophets have told us, "Be
satisfied with
your lot"; poets sing. We have told ourselves to be quiet and satisfied, yet
we are not. It is the design of the Eternal that there is nothing in this
world to satisfy my soul, nothing in the heavens above, and nothing beneath.
Before the desire of my soul, the stars and the worlds, upper and lower, the
whole universe, is but a hateful disease, nothing but that. That is the
meaning. Everything is an evil unless that is the meaning. Every desire is
evil unless that is the meaning, unless you understand its true importance,
its goal. All nature is crying through all the atoms for one thing — its
perfect freedom.
What is practical religion, then? To get to that state — freedom, the
attainment of freedom. And this world, if it helps us on to that goal, [is]
all right; if not — if it begins to bind one more layer on the thousands
already there, it becomes an evil. Possessions, learning, beauty, everything
else — as long as they help us to that goal, they are of practical value.
When they have ceased helping us on to that goal of freedom, they are a
positive danger. What is practical religion, then? Utilise the things of
this world and the next just for one goal — the attainment of freedom. Every
enjoyment, every ounce of pleasure is to be bought by the expenditure of the
infinite heart and mind combined.
Look at the sum total of good and evil in this world. Has it changed? Ages
have passed, and practical religion has worked for ages. The world thought
that each time the problem would be solved. It is always the same problem.
At best it changes its form. ... It trades consumption and nerve disease for
twenty thousand shops. . . . It is like old rheumatism: Drive it from one
place, it goes to another. A hundred years ago man walked on foot or bought
horses. Now he is happy because he rides the railroad; but he is unhappy
because he has to work more and earn more. Every machine that saves labour
puts more stress upon labour.
This universe, nature, or whatever you call it, must be limited; it can
never be unlimited. The Absolute, to become nature, must be limited by time,
space, and causation. The energy [at our disposal] is limited. You can spend
it in one place, losing it in another. The sum total is always the same.
Wherever there is a wave in one place, there is a hollow in another. If one
nation becomes rich, others become poor. Good balances evil. The person for
the moment on top of the wave thinks all is good; the person at the bottom
says the world is [all evil]. But the man who stands aside sees the divine
play going on. Some weep and others laugh. The latter will weep in their
turn and the others laugh. What can we do ? We know we cannot do anything.
...
Which of us do anything because we want to do good? How few! They can be
counted on the fingers. The rest of us also do good, but because we are
forced to do so. ... We cannot stop. Onward we go, knocked about from place
to place. What can we do? The world will be the same world, the earth the
same. It will be changed from blue to brown and from brown to blue. One
language translated into another, one set of evils changed into another set
of evils — that is what is going on. ... Six of one, half a dozen of the
other. The American Indian in the forest cannot attend a lecture on
metaphysics as you can, but he can digest his meal. You cut him to pieces,
and the next moment he is all right. You and I, if we get scratched, we have
to go to the hospital for six months. ...
The lower the organism, the greater is its pleasure in the senses. Think of
the lowest animals and the power of touch. Everything is touch. ... When you
come to man, you will see that the lower the civilization of the man, the
greater is the power of the senses. ... The higher the organism, the lesser
is the pleasure of the senses. A dog can eat a meal, but cannot understand
the exquisite pleasure of thinking about metaphysics. He is deprived of the
wonderful pleasure which you get through the intellect. The pleasures of the
senses are great. Greater than those is the pleasure of the intellect. When
you attend the fine fifty-course dinner in Paris, that is pleasure indeed.
But in the observatory, looking at the stars, seeing . . . worlds coming and
developing — think of that! It must be greater, for I know you forget all
about eating. That pleasure must be greater than what you get from worldly
things. You forget all about wives, children, husbands, and everything; you
forget all about the sense-plane. That is intellectual pleasure. It is
common sense that it must be greater than sense pleasure. It is always for
greater joy that you give up the lesser. This is practical religion — the
attainment of freedom, renunciation. Renounce!
Renounce the lower so that you may get the higher. What is the foundation of
society? Morality, ethics, laws. Renounce. Renounce all temptation to take
your neighbour's property, to put hands upon your neighbour, all the
pleasure of tyrannising over the weak, all the pleasure of cheating others
by telling lies. Is not morality the foundation of society? What is marriage
but the renunciation of unchastity? The savage does not marry. Man marries
because he renounces. So on and on. Renounce! Renounce! Sacrifice! Give up!
Not for zero. Not for nothing. But to get the higher. But who can do this?
You cannot, until you have got the higher. You may talk. You may struggle.
You may try to do many things. But renunciation comes by itself when you
have got the higher. Then the lesser falls away by itself.
This is practical religion. What else? Cleaning streets and building
hospitals? Their value consists only in this renunciation. And there is no
end to renunciation. The difficulty is they try to put a limit to it — thus
far and no farther. But there is no limit to this renunciation.
Where God is, there is no other. Where the world is, there is no God. These
two will never unite. [Like] light and darkness. That is what I have
understood from Christianity and the life of the Teacher. Is not that
Buddhism? Is not that Hinduism? Is not that Mohammedanism? Is not that the
teaching of all the great sages and teachers? What is the world that is to
be given up? It is here. I am carrying it all with me. My own body. It is
all for this body that I put my hand voluntarily upon my fellow man, just to
keep it nice and give it a little pleasure; [all for this body] that I
injure others and make mistakes. ...
Great men have died. Weak men have died. Gods have died. Death — death
everywhere. This world is a graveyard of the infinite past, yet we cling to
this [body]: "I am never going to die". Knowing for sure [that the body must
die] and yet clinging to it. There is meaning in that too [because in a
sense we do not die]. The mistake is that we cling to the body when it is
the spirit that is really immortal.
You are all materialists, because you believe that you are the body. If a
man gives me a hard punch, I would say I am punched. If he strikes me, I
would say I am struck. If I am not the body, why should I say so? It makes
no difference if I say I am the spirit. I am the body just now. I have
converted myself into matter. That is why I am to renounce the body, to go
back to what I really am. I am the spirit — the soul no instrument can
pierce, no sword can cut asunder, no fire can burn, no air can dry. Unborn
and uncreated, without beginning and without end, deathless, birthless and
omnipresent — that is what I am; and all misery comes just because I think
this little lump of clay is myself. I am identifying myself with matter and
taking all the consequences.
Practical religion is identifying myself with my Self. Stop this wrong
identification! How far are you advanced in that? You may have built two
thousand hospitals, built fifty thousand roads, and yet what of that, if
you, have not realised that you are the spirit? You die a dog's; death, with
the same feelings that the dog does. The dog howls and weeps because he
knows that he is only matter and he is going to be dissolved.
There is death, you know, inevitable death, in water, in air, in the palace,
in the prison - death everywhere. What makes you fearless? When you have
realised what you are — that infinite spirit, deathless, birthless. Him no
fire can burn, no instrument kill, no poison hurt. Not theory, mind you. Not
reading books. . . . [Not parroting.] My old Master used to say, "It is all
very good to teach the parrot to say, 'Lord, Lord, Lord' all the time; but
let the cat come and take hold of its neck, it forgets all about it" [You
may] pray all the time, read all the scriptures in the world, and worship
all the gods there are, [but] unless you realise the soul there is no
freedom. Not talking, theorising, argumentation, but realisation. That I
call practical religion.
This truth about the soul is first to be heard. If you have heard it, think
about it. Once you have done that, meditate upon it. No more vain arguments!
Satisfy yourself once that you are the infinite spirit. If that is true, it
must be nonsense that you are the body. You are the Self, and that must be
realised. Spirit must see itself as spirit. Now the spirit is seeing itself
as body. That must stop. The moment you begin to realise that, you are
released.
You see this glass, and you know it is simply an illusion. Some scientists
tell you it is light and vibration. ... Seeing the spirit must be infinitely
more real: than that, must be the only true state, the only true sensation,
the only true vision. All these [objects you see], are but dreams. You know
that now. Not the old idealists alone, but modern physicists also tell you
that light is there. A little more vibration makes all the difference. ...
You must see God. The spirit must be realised, and that is practical
religion. It is not what Christ preached that you call practical religion:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Was it
a joke? What is the practical religion you are thinking, of? Lord help us!
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." That means
street-cleaning, hospital-building, and all that? Good works, when you do
them with a pure mind. Don't give the man twenty dollars and buy all the
papers in San Francisco to see your name! Don't you read in your own books
how no man will help you? Serve as worship of the Lord Himself in the poor,
the miserable, the weak. That done, the result is secondary. That sort of
work, done without any thought of gain, benefits the soul. And even of such
is the Kingdom of Heaven.
The Kingdom of Heaven is within us. He is there. He is the soul of all
souls. See Him in your own soul. That is practical religion. That is
freedom. Let us ask each other how much we are advanced in that: how much we
are worshippers of the body, or real believers in God, the spirit; how much
we believe ourselves to be spirit. That is selfless. That is freedom. That
is real worship. Realise yourself. That is all there is to do. Know yourself
as you are — infinite spirit. That is practical religion. Everything else is
impractical, for everything else will vanish. That alone will never vanish.
It Is eternal. Hospitals will tumble down. Railroad givers will all die.
This earth will be blown to pieces, suns wiped out. The soul endureth for
ever.
Which is higher, running after these things which perish or. . . .
worshipping that which never changes? Which is more practical, spending all
the energies of life in getting things, and before you have got them death
comes and you have to leave them all? — like the great [ruler] who conquered
all, [who when] death came, said, "Spread out all the jars of things before
me." He said "Bring me that big diamond." And he placed it on his breast and
wept. Thus weeping, he died the same as the dog dies.
Man says, "I live." He knows not that it is [the fear of] death that makes
him cling slavishly to life. He says "I enjoy." He never dreams that nature
has enslaved him.
Nature grinds all of us. Keep count of the ounce of pleasure you get. In the
long run, nature did her work through you, and when you die your body will
make other plants grow. Yet we think all the time that we are getting
pleasure ourselves. Thus the wheel goes round.
Therefore to realise the spirit as spirit is practical religion. Everything
else is good so far as it leads to this one grand idea. That [realization]
is to be attained by renunciation, by meditation — renunciation of all the
senses, cutting the knots, the chains that bind us down to matter. "I do not
want to get material life, do not want the sense-life, but something
higher." That is renunciation. Then, by the power of meditation, undo the
mischief that has been done.
We are at the beck and call of nature. If there is sound outside, I have to
hear it. If something is going on, I have to see it. Like monkeys. We are
two thousand monkeys concentrated, each one of us. Monkeys are very curious.
So we cannot help ourselves, and call this "enjoying". Wonderful this
language! We are enjoying the world! We cannot help enjoying it. Nature
wants us to do it. A beautiful sound: I am hearing it. As if I could choose
to hear it or not! Nature says, "Go down to the depths of misery." I become
miserable in a moment. ... We talk about pleasures [of the senses] and
possessions. One man thinks me very learned. Another thinks, "He is a fool."
This degradation, this slavery, without knowing anything! In the dark room
we are knocking our heads against each other.
What is meditation? Meditation is the power which enables us to resist all
this. Nature may call us, "Look there is a beautiful thing!" I do not look.
Now she says, "There is a beautiful smell; smell it! " I say to my nose, "Do
not smell it", and the nose doesn't. "Eyes, do not see!" Nature does such an
awful thing - kills one of my children, and says, "Now, rascal, sit down and
weep! Go to the depths!" I say, "I don't have to." I jump up. I must be
free. Try it sometimes. ... [In meditation], for a moment, you can change
this nature. Now, if you had that power in yourself, would not that be
heaven, freedom? That is the power of meditation.
How is it to be attained? In a dozen different ways. Each temperament has
its own way. But this is the general principle: get hold of the mind. The
mind is like a lake, and every stone that drops into it raises waves. These
waves do not let us see what we are. The full moon is reflected in the water
of the lake, but the surface is so disturbed that we do not see the
reflection clearly. Let it be calm. Do not let nature raise the wave. Keep
quiet, and then after a little while she will give you up. Then we know what
we are. God is there already, but the mind is so agitated, always running
after the senses. You close the senses and [yet] you whirl and whirl about.
Just this moment I think I am all right and I will meditate upon God, and
then my mind goes to London in one minute. And if I pull it away from there,
it goes to New York to think about the things I have done there in the past.
These [waves] are to be stopped by the power of meditation.
Slowly and gradually we are to train ourselves. It is no joke — not a
question of a day, or years, or maybe of births. Never mind! The pull must
go on. Knowingly, voluntarily, the pull must go on. Inch by inch we will
gain ground. We will begin to feel and get real possessions, which no one
can take away from us — the wealth that no man can take, the wealth that
nobody can destroy, the joy that no misery can hurt any more. ...
All these years we have depended upon others. If I have a little pleasure
and that person goes away, my pleasure is gone. ... See the folly of man: he
depends for happiness upon men! All separations are misery. Naturally.
Depending upon wealth for happiness? There is fluctuation of wealth.
Depending upon health or upon anything except the unchangeable spirit must
bring misery today or tomorrow.
Excepting the infinite spirit, everything else is changing. There is the
whirl of change. Permanence is nowhere except in yourself. There is the
infinite joy, unchanging. Meditation is the gate that opens that to us.
Prayers, ceremonials, and all the other forms of worship are simply
kindergartens of meditation. You pray, you offer something. A certain theory
existed that everything raised one's spiritual power. The use of certain
words, flowers, images, temples, ceremonials like the waving of lights
brings the mind to that attitude, but that attitude is always in the human
soul, nowhere else. [People] are all doing it; but what they do without
knowing it, do knowingly. That is the power of meditation. All knowledge you
have — how did it come? From the power of meditation. The soul churned the
knowledge out of its own depths. What knowledge was there ever outside of
it? In the long run this power of meditation separates ourselves from the
body, and then the soul knows itself as it is — the unborn, the deathless,
and birthless being. No more is there any misery, no more births upon this
earth, no more evolution. [The soul knows itself as having] ever been
perfect and free.