Moving beyond Surface Devotion to asking authentic questions
“The beginning of knowledge is ‘athato brahma jignasa’ – now let us inquire about the Absolute Truth.”
– Vedanta Sutra (1.1.1)
This morning, I listened to a lecture by Srila Prabhupada given on September 18, 1975, in Vrindavan, on the sixth canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. His words revealed a crucial distinction that challenges how we understand our spiritual journey, our relationship with Lord Krishna, and the process of Bhakti Yoga.
Prabhupada spoke about the power of chanting the holy names. He said that even if one falls down, gets injured, or even breaks bones, still—chanting once will save us.
Hearing this, part of me felt comforted. “So chanting is like an insurance policy. As long as I chant once, I’m safe.” And sometimes, Prabhupada did speak like this, out of sheer compassion. Like a loving father, he reassured his weak children: “Just come to Krishna. Even if you fall, it’s okay.”
But on this particular day, his tone was different. Here Prabhupada urged us not to become complacent by thinking, “I just chant once and I am saved.” Instead, he pushed us toward higher truth.
Two Kinds of People
Prabhupada explained that there are two categories of living beings: jīva-bhūta and brahma-bhūta.
The jīva-bhūta asks questions like: “What’s for lunch? Aloo, dal, chawal?” His concerns revolve around eating, sleeping, mating, and defending.
The brahma-bhūta, on the other hand, inquires: “What is the goal of life? What is birth and death? Who am I?” This enquiry propels him toward the realization, “Aham brahmāsmi—I am spirit soul.” And when one reaches that state, one becomes free from hankering and lamentation, resting in natural bliss.
In such a state, Krishna consciousness flows into one’s life effortlessly, like a river finding the sea.
The Misunderstood Verse
We often reference Krishna’s words about the brahma-bhuta soul – “One who is thus transcendentally situated at once realizes the Supreme Brahman and becomes fully joyful. He never laments or desires to have anything. He is equally disposed toward every living entity. In that state he attains pure devotional service unto Me.” (Bhagavad Gita 18.54)
We mistakenly treat this verse as a certificate of our spiritual advancement, thinking: “Since I’ve come to Krishna consciousness, I must be brahma-bhuta.”
This represents flawed logic. The verse doesn’t glorify our current state; rather, it describes the qualification needed for authentic devotion. It essentially says: “If you are truly a devotee, you will be free from material hankering and lamentation. If you still hanker and lament, if you still brood over dal, chawal questions, then you are not brahma-bhūta. You are still ordinary jīva-bhūta.”
The Paradigm Shift: A Wake-Up Call
This understanding pierced me and hit me hard like a thunderbolt, shattering my comfortable spiritual assumptions. How many times have we smugly nodded when hearing about the brahma-bhuta soul, silently congratulating ourselves: “Yes, that’s me! I’m in Krishna consciousness, therefore I’m advanced!”
But what if we’re living in a spiritual fantasy? What if our pride in practicing ‘the best process’ has blinded us to our actual condition? The harsh truth is that many of us still get anxious about money, frustrated with family members, and depressed about our material circumstances. We still spend more mental energy planning our next meal than contemplating the nature of the soul.
If we were truly brahma-bhuta, would we be scrolling through social media instead of studying scriptures? Would we be more excited about weekend entertainment than diving deep into spiritual texts? The evidence of our consciousness reveals the uncomfortable reality: we’re still very much jiva-bhuta, asking ‘What’s for dinner?’ instead of ‘What’s the purpose of this human life?’
The verses aren’t patting us on the back—they’re holding up a mirror, showing us how far we have yet to go.
Beyond Sentimental Devotion: The Hard Work of Spiritual Study
How dangerous it is to assume: “I am practicing the best process; therefore, I am advanced.”
This is subtle pride. We wear the badge of Krishna consciousness like a medal of superiority, while deep down, we may still be attached, still lazy, still unwilling to enquire about life’s ultimate goal.
Yes, by mercy we have received Krishna consciousness. But mercy is not a certificate. It is a responsibility. We were given answers to questions we never asked. If I refuse to enquire, I risk becoming a sentimental devotee: chanting, but shallow. Smiling, but hollow. And worst of all, convinced that I am holier than thou.
Now we must show gratitude by asking questions sincerely and hearing the scriptural answers submissively, in a service mood.
Here’s where many of us stumble: we hear even Lord Chaitanya, when speaking to Prakāśānanda Sarasvatī, said: “My guru told me I am a fool, so I simply chant Hare Krishna.” We misuse this, thinking, “Yes, let me also be a fool and not study.” But the Lord’s humility was not an excuse for ignorance. He was teaching the mood of surrender, not licensing us to avoid scriptural study or enquiry.
We can’t use the Lord’s humility as an excuse for our own intellectual laziness because that would be spiritual suicide. Without deep study and without wrestling with difficult concepts and discussing them with other sincere devotees, how will we distinguish between genuine spiritual emotions and mere sentimentality? How will we know if our ‘Krishna consciousness’ is authentic realization or just another form of material conditioning dressed in spiritual clothing?
Until spontaneous love awakens, we must continue with sādhana-bhakti—study, chant, serve, reflect, ask, and seek. Otherwise, the mind will cheat us, whispering: “You’re already advanced. You’re in Krishna consciousness, so your search has ended.” But often, the truth is we never searched; we simply received causeless mercy.
Therefore, now that I have access to Bhakti Yoga, I should not use mercy as an excuse to stop enquiring. Rather, I should show gratitude by beginning the enquiry properly.
A powerful historical example
The power of sincere scriptural study is beautifully illustrated in the life of Vishwanath Chakravarti Thakur. When his parents arranged his marriage to keep him in family life, his spiritual master gave him a unique instruction: spend one night with your wife, then choose your path. That night, instead of engaging in typical marital activities, Vishwanath Chakravarty spent the entire night reading Srimad Bhagavatam aloud to his new wife until dawn.
The miracle wasn’t just in his choice, but in her response. Rather than feeling neglected, his wife was completely satisfied by the nectar of spiritual wisdom and moved by this experience, she encouraged him to surrender completely to his guru’s path. At dawn, Vishwanath Chakravarty left for Radhakunda and dedicated his life to writing over forty Sanskrit commentaries on pure devotional service.
If someone as realized as Vishwanath Chakravarti Thakur chose scriptural study over material pleasure even on his wedding night, what excuse do we have for our intellectual laziness?
The most dangerous devotee is the one who assumes he’s beyond the need for study because he’s practicing ‘pure devotion.’ This person becomes unteachable, unreachable, trapped in his own spiritual superiority complex. He looks down on those who ask questions, dismissing philosophical inquiry as ‘mental speculation’ all the while remaining a prisoner of his own ignorance.
Genuine spiritual advancement requires moving beyond complacency toward authentic inquiry – we shouldn’t assume scriptural verses about advanced devotees are certificates of our current status, but rather qualifications we’re working toward through sincere questioning and practice.
The advanced devotees in Krishna consciousness, who don’t study but only chant, serve, and sing Krishna’s Holy Names, did not become lovers of Krishna by skipping the work of inquiry. In their past lives, they must have asked and asked until their hearts became fully purified. We cannot bypass that process. Sentiment alone, without enquiry, easily slips into laziness.
The Dangerous Illusion of Spiritual Arrival
We’ve fallen into the most seductive trap of spiritual life: assuming we’ve ‘made it’ simply because we’ve encountered the highest process.
“I’m practicing Krishna consciousness—the best path!” we declare, while our minds remain as agitated as ever, our hearts as hard as stone, our understanding as shallow as a puddle. We wear our spiritual practices like badges of honour, but what have we actually internalized? What has genuinely transformed within us?
This complacency is spiritual death. When we stop asking questions, when we stop studying and reflecting deeply, when we assume our spiritual status is secure, we become like those foolish souls who think they’re wealthy while their bank accounts remain empty. The process may be perfect, but what about our application of it?
The most heartbreaking sight is a devotee who has access to the greatest spiritual treasures yet remains spiritually poor because he’s too proud to acknowledge his poverty. He has the key to liberation but refuses to use it because he thinks he’s already free.
Spiritual life is not an insurance policy to make me feel safe while I remain lazy. It is a call to enquiry, to hunger for the truth. Srila Prabhupada’s compassion sometimes reassures us with “Just chant once,” but at other times he challenges us: “Don’t stop there. Ask more.”
As Thomas Merton once wrote, “The man who ceases to ask ‘What is truth?’ ceases to be alive.”
The Double Joy of Authentic Practice
Let me start asking—not about dal, chawal, or comfort—but about the true goal of life. If I do that, Krishna consciousness will offer a double joy:
- Freedom from petty material concerns – Asking the right questions naturally elevates us beyond hankering and lamenting about petty material problems
- Soul resonance – The answers of Krishna consciousness will strike deep, because the soul naturally longs for Krishna.
The Humbling Path to Authentic Growth
The time has come to shatter our comfortable spiritual illusions. We are not advanced simply because we chant, attend programs, or follow regulations. We are beginners who have received extraordinary mercy—unqualified souls who stumbled upon the highest treasure.
This realization should ignite a fire within us for genuine spiritual hunger. We should be racing to our books, desperate to understand what we’ve been given. We should be asking profound questions with the intensity of someone whose life depends on the answers—because it does.
Let us abandon the arrogance that masquerades as devotion. Let us stop using Krishna consciousness as a shield against deep inquiry and start using it as a sword to cut through our ignorance. The scriptures are waiting, Prabhupada’s books are gathering dust, and our souls are crying out for real nourishment, not the cheap sentiment we’ve been feeding them.
True spiritual advancement requires the courage to admit we know almost nothing, despite practicing the highest process. Only when we embrace this humbling truth can we begin the real work of transformation—asking the right questions, studying are hearing with desperate sincerity, and allowing Krishna consciousness to reveal its full transformative power in our lives.
Conclusion – the path forward
The path forward demands everything from us: our pride, our complacency, our excuses. But in return, it offers what we’ve been desperately seeking all along—authentic spiritual realization that makes every moment a celebration of our eternal relationship with Krishna.
The challenge before me is clear: to stop treating Krishna consciousness as a certificate and start living it as a qualification—by asking the right questions with gratitude and humility.
Because Krishna consciousness is not a final resting place where the search ends. It is the beginning of a higher search, deeper and deeper, until the soul is completely consumed by Krishna.
“Life’s desires should never be directed toward sense gratification. One should desire only a healthy life, or self-preservation, since a human being is meant for inquiry about the Absolute Truth. Nothing else should be the goal of one’s works.”
– Srimad-Bhagavatam (1.2.10)
