The Sacred Geography of Vraja
By Swāmī Śrī Bhaktivedānta Tripurāri
In ancient puranic terminology “Earth” refers to the Bhu-mandala, within which we find Bharatavarsa, roughly corresponding with an extended geographical sense of what we refer to today as the sub-continent of the Indian Republic. Therein we find in today’s terminology what might be referred to as a sense of “Eastern exceptionalism,” a wealth that the West missed in its colonial orientalism. Yes, the West has something important to learn from the East. As historian Arnold Toynbee put it, “… A chapter that has a Western beginning will have to have an Indian ending if it is not to end in the self-destruction of the human race.”
Bharata—India—even today is often referred to by the West as the mystical mother of all religion. From its manner of greeting—namaste—that acknowledges and honors the atma in our neighbor along with its ahimsa that further acknowledges the pan-psychic underlying reality—the atmas in all animation—to its methodology—yoga/sadhana—that Merton sought out in earnest and that so readily lends itself to adaptation by other spiritual traditions, to its inclusiveness with regard to other ego effacing spiritual traditions, to its details as to the nature of the hereafter, Bharata’s santana dharma, the perennial philosophy, is priceless at the cost of merely well-reasoned faith. The scripturally stated worldview of Bharata adds up to the less that is much more, the wealth of our common human prospect hidden in our underlying atma’s capacity to love, to give. And it is in the pastoral Vraja within the Bhu-mandala’s Bharata-varsa that the heart of divinity descends as the perfect object of love. More precisely, Krsna—the Hindu heart of Divinity—descends into our sensual frame of reference along with his abode—Vraja—that is the extension of his very self, overlaying a particular set of Cartesian coordinates.
Thus, Vraja does not physically exist as such, but like today’s virtual computer reality it is made to appear as if it were limited to a geographical area, and this for the sake of facilitating God’s human-like lila. As such, those that make the pilgrimage to Vraja ninety miles south of New Delhi at the border of the Rajasthan desert but do not associate with and serve the sadhus who live there in spiritual consciousness, never really visit Vraja at all, a location that in reality is one from which there is no return. This sacred geography appears one way to our two material eyes and quite another to the yogic meditative third, and more so to our two eyes when anointed with the salve of spiritual love—prema.
In today’s world “real” geographic space has in good measure given way to spaces bound only by our technologically assisted imagination. A generation or two from now virtual landscapes may serve as the primary metaphors upon which our attitudes and values rest, rendering secondary the geographical spaces that served this purpose in the past. And from the Bhagavata’s perspective, the geographical reality is only virtual, while the inner and sacred landscapes are by comparison more real.
Bhagavata’s Bhu-mandala—Earth—by its own description is a middle planetary system, wherein one can experience both hellish suffering and heavenly delight in equal measure as consequences of one’s actions. Because the Bhagavata posits citta, or awareness and thus responsibility as an aspect of psychic matter, it also posits that the physical matter arising out of psychic matter contains a corresponding expression of that awareness in the form of moral principles that are thus ontologically grounded. In principle, there is an actual good and actual evil, a dharma that lies beyond mere human convention, the details of which—the moral laws—are determined with reference to sacred texts and the application of reason in consideration of time and circumstances—a spiritual yet consequentialist perspective on morality. However, moral correctness is but a cage to tame humanity’s animal urges and does not constitute actual spirituality. The moral good can never equal the ultimate Good, and indeed, on occasion it can get in the way of the Good. Once tamed we are fit to be uncaged and then learn the art of being in the world but not of it, no longer a taker but rather a giver, even as our actions themselves may remain similar to those driven by exploitation and acquisition—similar actions driven by selfless motivation.
Love—giving—born as it is from the womb of sacrifice, is where the Bhagavata points in pursuit of the Good that is central to what it means to be human. As such, the Bhagavata concentrates less on any system of punishment and reward as moral consequences than it does on the human drive for love that is both the greatest weakness of humanity as well as its greatest strength. It does so by focusing on the perfect object of love, God in his human-like lila—Krsna.
Intuitively we know, and that also from our experience, that to give is to receive. Christ also told us this, and as it is with all spiritual truths, this instruction is not something foreign to our human experience nor an oppressive mandate, but rather an instruction that resonates with our human sensibilities. Such human sensibilities played out in terms of their philosophical implications are what constitutes Vraja—uninterrupted, unmotivated giving that is possible when our giving is centered on the perfect object of love.
Discover more from Harmonist
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Related Posts
Mystic Poetry and Yogic Enlightenment →
Śrīla Jīva Gosvāmī →
The Love of Sri Radha →
