Dec 7: Special Satsang with Br. Ramanand

The Most Auspicious Death - Notes from Ramanandji's discourse on Dec. 7, 2019

They say there are three certainties of life: birth, death, and taxes. Though death is certain for us all, we generally avoid talking or thinking about death because we fear death. We don’t know what will happen to us, or to the things and people we love after our death, and that uncertainty is frightening. It is striking to note, therefore, that many world traditions actually celebrate death. All over India, funeral rites are accompanied by feasts. In Tamil Nadu, South India, the body of the deceased is carried in a procession with music, singing and dancing. In Louisiana, USA, jazz funerals likewise involve a public procession of the casket and the mourners to the cemetery with music, singing and dancing that celebrates the life of the deceased person.

In Bali, Indonesians decorate and beautify the body of the person who has died, in the belief that they are preparing the person as well as possible for the afterlife. Death thus has the connotation of a new beginning for the person. In Ghana, people are buried in elaborately designed coffins that reflect the achievements, aspirations, personal symbols and tastes of the deceased person. For example, a person who loved travel might be buried in a coffin shaped like an airplane, while someone who loved donuts might have a donut-shaped coffin. These coffins are real works of art, and a homage to the deceased.

In Mexico, Día de Muertos or the Day of the Dead is celebrated as a public holiday. Families build private altars called ofrendas (‘offerings’) that honour their deceased relatives, laden with marigolds, sugar candy skulls, and the favourite foods and beverages of the departed. Families often also clean and decorate the graves of their ancestors on this day, leaving food and drink offerings behind as gifts. It is believed that the living and the dead celebrate together on Día de Muertos, supporting each other’s growth and spiritual journey. These diverse practices teach us that death is part of the cycle of life, and should be considered as auspicious and important as birth. Amma says that death is like putting a period at the end of a sentence. From there a new sentence begins. It is not the end of our journey towards the Supreme.

Most of us know the principle of karma: you reap what you sow. We enjoy or suffer only the fruits of our own actions. Positive actions have positive results. Negative actions have negative results. The sum of all of our past actions (good, bad and neutral) is called our sanchita karma. Sanchita karma can be divided into two types: arabdha karma, and anarabdha karma. Our arabdha karma is the karma that is manifesting into the reality we face at present. Anarabdha karma is our stored karma that is not manifesting into consequences at the present time, but will be faced in the future.

In each birth that we take, we have certain arabdha karma associated with that birth. The arabdha karma that is being experienced in our current birth is called our prarabdha karma. When the prarabdha karma is exhausted, that incarnation ends. It is like graduating from high school to university: you can not leave high school until all your credits have been obtained. Once you have obtained all your credits, it is likewise not possible to remain in high school any longer, even if you wanted to. You must move forward to university or college to continue your studies. We may feel sad that we will miss our old teachers or friends, but overall we celebrate that we are moving on in life. Similarly, we can celebrate death as the end of that prarabdha karma, and graduation to a new phase of life.

However, the death that we should really aim for and celebrate is the death of the ego. Overcoming our identification with body, family, job, titles, virtues, and achievements is the most difficult, and the greatest thing we can possibly achieve. The scriptures of Sanatana Dharma refer to the death of the ego as nirvana or liberation from the pairs of opposites (good/bad, right/wrong, etc.) that make up samsara, or the cycle of birth and death. In Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 15, verse 4, Lord Krishna explains how those who have reached that sought after state do not return again to this world process. It is like learning to ride a bicycle or learning how to swim. Once you have learned how to do these things, you cannot revert back to not knowing them.

Similarly, in the Bible, Book of John, Chapter 3, verse 3, Jesus says: “Truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” Being born again means being reborn after the death of the ego or the small self. Similarly, the Jewish people have the days of repentance or contemplation after Rosh Hashanah, during which they contemplate and repent for their past misdeeds. This period ends with the day of Yom Kippur, where they make a fresh start, having let go of and atoned for the sins and wounds of the past. The day that our old self dies and our new Self is born is the birthday we should truly celebrate.

It is not, however, so easy to let go of our ego. There was once a man who accumulated enough money to buy a Rolls Royce car. He was driving home to show the car to his friends. In his excitement, he ran a red light and crashed into a tractor trailer. The whole left side of the car was destroyed. The man was so angry and upset that his treasured car was ruined. When the police arrived, he shouted at them to arrest the tractor trailer driver. The police officer replied: “You seem to be very greedy.” The man said: “What do you mean? You have no idea what this Rolls Royce meant to me. I had been saving up for years…” The police officer said: “Definitely you are greedy because you are so grieved by the loss the left door of your car, that you have not noticed that you have also lost your left hand!” The man then looked at his left arm without a hand and cried: “Oh my God! My Rolex watch!”

When our attachment to things is so great, how can we learn to let go? In the story of Nachiketas from the Kathopanishad, Nachiketas’ father was performing a big yajna (sacrificial rite), giving away cows to the poor, in the hope of winning the favour of the gods. The cows that were gifted, however, were not healthy, nor yielding much milk. Nachiketas questioned his father, saying he was not giving away things he was attached to but rather things he wanted to get rid of. His father eventually became angry and said: “I am very attached to you, my son. I therefore give you to Yama, the God of Death.”

A dutiful son, Nachiketas obeyed his father’s wish, and went to the abode of Yama, where he waited for three days and three nights without food or water. Yama was pleased with Nachiketas determination and sense of duty, and offered to grant him three boons. Nachiketas first asked that Yama help his father overcome his anger. Yama granted this wish. For his second boon, Nachiketas asked that Yama teach him about the nature and purpose of yajna (sacrifice). Yama did so. For his third boon, Nachiketas asked to know what death truly is. Yama at first hesitated to grant this boon, but ultimately decided that this boy was ready to know the secret of death. The death that Yama described was not the decay and loss of the physical body, but the death of the false ego, and pride we have in it. Once that ego dies, death ceases to exist for us. A similar view is expounded in the 8th Chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, which is traditionally chanted at funerals. In this Chapter, Lord Krishna explains that when the ego dies, there is no more birth or death for us. Rather, we are liberated from birth and death.

How then can we transcend then the ego? The last verse of Bhagavad Gita Chapter 8 (verse 28) mentions four processes: 1) vedeshu (study of the Vedas), 2) yajneshu (performance of sacrifices), tapeshu (performance of austerities), and 4) daneshu (giving of charity). We can begin thinning our ego through these. Study of the Vedas does not just mean studying the scriptures. Amma says that all of Nature is a scripture, and every being is Her Guru, i.e. has something to teach us. By remaining alert and humble, we will learn a lesson in every moment of our life, and grow in awareness in every action.

Likewise, yajna does not only mean ritualistic sacrifices, but rather letting go of all that we are attached to. So often, we are not able to satisfy our likes and dislikes and we become unhappy. Instead of feeling restless, we should try to let go, accept the situation, and be at peace. This is the secret of harmonious existence, be it in a family, a Satsang, or in the world. Tapas means austerity, or living a principled life. There should be a purpose behind our actions, and a willingness to stick to that principle, come what may. If we go to Satsang just to have a good meal or pleasant conversation at the end, then when the food or social atmosphere declines, we will likely stop coming. If on the other hand, we are going to pray, chant, and grow spiritually, we will stick to coming even if there is no food or friend to chat with there. Again, we let go of our likes and dislikes in favour of a higher principle.

Once we let go of our likes and dislikes and become principled, we will naturally begin seeking ways to give to others. Dana means giving in charity. It could be giving time, money, knowledge, labour, etc. It is giving for the sake of giving, without expectation of return. By incorporating these four processes (study, sacrifice, austerity, and charity) into our lives, we will certainly begin wearing down our pride, and moving towards the death of our ego, and our birth in the Self. As Amma’s life shows, if even just one of us is reborn in this way, it benefits the life of millions. Let’s pray to our most beloved Amma that we may practice these four things, so that our ego may die, and we may truly be reborn thereafter.

Om Amrteswaryai Namah