In 1981, I lived in Santa Barbara, a beautiful little beach community in Southern California.
I was a young spiritual seeker back then.
I had been completely turned off by the dogmatism of Western religions
and I had become increasingly interested in yoga, meditation, and the spiritual teachings of Vedanta.
The local newspaper announced a series of lectures on Vedanta
at a nearby community center, presented by a guru from India I had never heard of before.
His name was Swami Dayananda.
For five evenings, he taught the central principles of Vedanta
to an audience composed mostly of Westerners.
With each session, I became more and more impressed by the tremendous power and clarity of his teaching.
I also liked his mischievous sense of humor.
But what amazed me most was to hear him cogently and logically explain the nature of God,
or Ishvara, without even once asking us to accept anything he said as a matter of faith or belief.
He asserted that Ishvara is a matter for understanding, not for belief.
I was stunned by this radical idea
- that Ishvara is to be understood, that God can be known rationally.
You see, I had developed an allergy, so to speak, to any kind of religious faith or doctrine.
Long ago, I had rejected the religion of my childhood
that portrayed God as a fatherly figure who dwelled in heaven,
seated on a magnificent throne.
My college education in engineering had trained me to think scientifically
- if something couldn’t be proved, then it doesn't exist.
So, when Swami Dayananda used logic and reason to explain the nature of Ishvara,
I was really intrigued.
He used this analogy.
To make a pot, a potter needs two things: material like clay, and knowledge,
knowledge of the size and shape of pots.
Only with suitable material and knowledge can a pot, or anything else, be made.
Based on this principle, the creator of the universe must necessarily possess two things:
suitable material out of which the entire universe can be fashioned,
and knowledge, knowledge of the cosmos, knowledge of everything.
Swami Dayananda clarified that whereas a potter has an external source of clay,
Ishvara had no external source of material.
So, the material for the universe could only have come directly from Ishvara.
Therefore, Ishvara is the source of both the knowledge and material for the universe.
Like a spider, who not only knows how to weave a web, but is also the source of the silk thread
out of which the web is woven.
Swami Dayananda was careful and precise in his use of language as he developed these ideas,
gradually building up what he called “The Vision of Vedanta.”
Listening to his brilliant discourses, I was blown away, as they say.
Even though I didn’t know it at the time, Swami Dayananda was to become my guru,
and in due course, he would skillfully guide my journey of spiritual growth for decades to come.
Sadly, the word guru has fallen into disrepute in modern times,
mostly as a result of some well-known gurus whose outrageous acts
rightfully attracted a lot of negative publicity.
Shocking reports about their sex scandals and showy lifestyles have poisoned the minds of many.
Of course, such people are not gurus at all.
A traditional definition of the word guru is found in this well-known verse:
The syllable gu represents darkness and ru represents one who removes it.
Therefore, guru means the remover of darkness.
Obviously, darkness here refers to ignorance,
specifically the ignorance that covers or obscures your true nature
and prevents you from recognizing the divinity within.
A guru helps remove that veil of ignorance and leads you to discover your essence as pure consciousness,
unborn, uncreated, vast, full, and complete, the true source of peace and contentment.
As the remover of ignorance, a guru is a teacher, a spiritual teacher.
But spiritual teachers must not be confused with religious preachers.
The goal of a preacher is basically to inculcate religious beliefs in the minds of listeners.
For example, a preacher might try to convince you that by accepting Jesus Christ as your lord and savior,
you will be saved from eternal damnation.
Teachers, on the other hand, don’t tell you what to believe.
Your arithmetic teacher never told you to believe that 2 + 2 = 4.
A professor of physics would never implore his students to believe in protons and neutrons.
He would teach them.
Teachers impart knowledge, not beliefs.
The role of a spiritual teacher, a guru, is to help you gain knowledge of your true nature.
And to teach this, it’s not at all necessary for a guru to tell you how to live your life
- where to live, what job to take, or who to marry.
The role of a guru is to teach you, not to manipulate you or control your life.
This point is nicely illustrated in the Bhagavad Gita,
where Sri Krishna assumes the role of Arjuna’s teacher, Ajuna’s guru.
On the battlefield, Arjuna became so depressed that he couldn’t fulfill his duties as a warrior.
His emotional turmoil was so intense that it actually incapacitated him,
it knocked him out of action, as you might say, even before the first arrow was shot.
For this reason, Sri Krishna taught the principles of Vedanta to Arjuna
in order to dispel his depression and empower him to fight.
Towards the beginning of the Gita, Sri Krishna said, “utishta kaunteya, get up Arjuna and prepare for war.”
But at the very end of the Gita, after Sri Krishna had concluded his teachings,
he did NOT tell Arjuna to fight the war.
Instead, he told Arjuna, yathecchasi tatha kuru, do whatever you want, do as you wish.
Sri Krishna did NOT order Arjuna to fight.
Sri Krishna’s role was to teach Arjuna, not to control his life.
This example from the Bhagavad Gita is probably relevant for teachers of all kinds.
Before meeting Swami Dayananda in California, I had read several translations
of the Bhagavad Gita as well as many other books on Vedanta.
I had also attended lectures on Vedanta taught by other swamis from India.
Yet in spite of these efforts, I completely failed to grasp the profound vision of reality
taught by the ancient sages.
Only years later did I learn why my efforts had failed.
Something was missing.
And the missing element was a special teaching methodology
meant to be employed whenever Vedanta is taught.
The technique involves using language in a particular manner
that can actually lead listeners to personally discover the highest truth.
This is completely different from using language merely to impart information,
as is typically done in a school or college classroom.
This non-academic approach is well-understood and properly wielded
only by those who have been traditionally-trained.
Obviously, I didn’t have the benefit of that methodology when I read the Bhagavad Gita on my own,
and as a result, my comprehension was superficial.
When I later studied the Bhagavad Gita with Swami Dayananda,
I was able to personally grasp the life-changing truths that Sri Krishna imparted to Arjuna.
The special methodology needed to properly unfold the teachings of Vedanta
seems to be absent from many popular books and present-day lectures on the subject.
This apparent neglect isn’t surprising at all,
because this methodology isn’t explicitly taught in any scripture or text.
It has to be learned directly from a traditional guru, a guru who learned it through an oral tradition,
which passed it down from teacher to student for generation after generation.
Unfortunately, this oral tradition has grown somewhat weak in modern times.
There seems to have been a decline in traditional scholarship
among contemporary teachers of Vedanta.
For this reason, a number of modern teachers never had the opportunity to learn this special approach.
But the use of this traditional teaching methodology is absolutely crucial.
Without it, the teachings of Vedanta become academic and philosophical,
they're reduced to mere theories and lofty concepts,
while the actual vision of the ancient rishis remains securely hidden.
But, when Vedanta is taught using the traditional methodology,
it’s possible for a student to gain immediate direct knowledge
and personally discover the truth of oneself.
The importance of this methodology cannot be overstated.
The great 8th century Vedantin, Shankaracharya, in his commentary on the Bhagavad Gita,
was emphatic when he said,
"Someone who doesn’t know the traditional methodology should be avoided like a fool,
even if he knows the scriptures thoroughly."
Before concluding, I’d like to share with you a highly instructive story about my guru.
Several years after I first met Swami Dayananda,
he returned to Santa Barbara to give another lecture series,
a lecture series that I helped organize in the very same hall where he spoke before.
On the first evening of the program, he walked to the front of the hall
and sat before the audience for two or three minutes without saying anything.
Several times he opened his mouth, as if he were about to begin,
but then he remained silent.
When he finally got started, he gave a great lecture,
captivating us all with his wit and wisdom.
After the lecture was over, I asked him why it took so long for him to get started.
His answer surprised me.
He said, “When I look at everyone gathered here, I don’t see any problem.
Everyone is just fine the way they are, so I don’t see any reason to teach.”
Swami Dayananda understood the true nature of everyone there
to be eternally limitless, full, and complete.
In his vision, each person is a flawless creation of Ishvara,
a perfect expression or manifestation of what he calls “Ishvara’s order,”
or the intelligent nature of the universe.
Seeing this perfect order, he saw no need to teach Vedanta.
Of course, he also knew that everyone’s true nature was covered by a veil of ignorance
which can be removed with the help of Vedantic teachings.
Only after shifting to THIS perspective, could he begin to teach.
Swami Dayananda often said, “You already possess that which you want;
you already are that which you want to become.”
From the standpoint of your true self, you really don’t need anything at all,
including the teachings of Vedanta.
Therefore, a guru has nothing to give you.
But in fact, a guru’s role is not to give you something;
it is to remove something,
to remove the veil of ignorance so you can forever appreciate
your innate fullness and completeness.
In this way, a guru is indeed the remover of darkness,
one who dispels ignorance, removing the veil that covers your true nature
to reveal the exquisite divinity within,
boundaryless, limitless, complete.