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Purījī, Purījī... Mahāprabhujī kī jaya, Mahāprabhujī kī jaya he. Kevalaṁ Mahāprabhujī kī jaya he, kevalam... Oṁ Bāleśvarī Dīp Nārāyaṇa kī jaya, Mīrābāījī kī jaya. Time always flees very quickly. We are already at the end. In two and a half days we have spanned one hundred and seventy-five years—from Mahāprabhujī’s incarnation in 1828 to Holī Gurujī’s Mahāsamādhi in 2003. I sense that some inner process is also unfolding. But these are the two ends. The physical existence, at this point, is the same for the Guru as it is for us. The physical body too is subject to physical laws. Yet the Guru does not die. The Guru is the eternal principle, and if we look deeply, the same principle is in us. That is what we always sing in the bhajana, “Jyota se Jyota Jagāvo”: there are two candles, and between them there is no difference. To be clear: between our ātmā and Swāmījī’s ātmā and Mahāprabhujī’s ātmā there is no difference. The difference is only that our flame is not yet burning as brightly—like this beautiful Diwali tree, not yet alight. It has been a lovely time for me to be here with my family, and I thought perhaps today, for the closing, we might turn to another bhajana, the one we heard yesterday in the video. This is “Barahu bhāga unā deśarā.” Could someone hand me the harmonium? Thank you. It is a beautiful composition, quite special to me, for on one hand it is peaceful, like a meditation, and on the other hand it is powerful, like a hymn—two qualities that usually do not go together, but here they do. Once again it celebrates the glory of the Guru, the incarnation of the Guru. You might look in your bhajan book: Barahu bhāga. Bhāga means fate, our destiny, the karma we have created. Swāmījī explains it this way: it comes from Bhagavān, and bhāgya means “it has gone”—once created, karma passes out of our hands and becomes our destiny. Usually we understand this only at the individual level, calling it prārabdha karma. But here the same word is applied to an entire country. In fact, there are different levels of karma. Much of the suffering we experience nowadays in Kali Yuga is actually due to our collective karma. Barahu bhāga unā deśarā: great is the fate, the destiny, the karma of that country where the Satguru comes and incarnates. Just think how Swāmījī spoke in his Dīvālī lecture about Mahāprabhujī’s mother. Not every mother is fit to receive a divine child; a tremendous energy arrives. When Swāmījī speaks of avatāra, he uses the word prāṇa. He says that in a certain part of the cosmos a huge energy, a huge prāṇa, concentrates and incarnates in the form of a Guru. That is what we call an avatāra, and the word is also used here. Not everyone is able to contain such an energy, and the same applies to the country: a land where a Satguru incarnates must be truly worthy. When we consider this, how many saints have incarnated in India? How many world religions have their origin in India? This bhajana is about the glory of Mahāprabhujī and the glory of India. Exactly the point I just mentioned—that the country must be worthy to receive an avatāra, just as a mother must be worthy to be the mother of a divine incarnation—appears in the first verse. Dhanya dhanya janani, sadguru janani. Glory to the mother, the holy mother who gave birth to such an avatāra. My salutations, I offer myself at her holy lotus feet, and of course also at the holy lotus feet of that child who has just been born. Amara loka se padhāryā. Amara loka is another name for Brahma loka, the immortal world. The avatāra—here Mahāprabhujī—came from the immortal world. Manuṣyatana Vipu dhārā. Manuṣyatana means a human body; it could also be another form. In the tradition of the incarnations of Lord Viṣṇu, he came in different forms: as a fish, as a boar, as a half-lion, half-man, and so on. Here it says he came in human form. Now, who is Vipu? I think Vipu is a shortened form of Viṣṇu. Viṣṇu is an interesting word. It actually contains two words: viśva, the universe—that which is vast and contains everything—and aṇu, the opposite, the smallest, the atom. So Viṣṇu is that which is both the all‑containing vastness and the tiniest particle. It is a typical way to describe the indescribable, through a paradox, through a contradiction. For what lies beyond duality cannot be grasped by the intellect or captured by our language. It says everything is God, and God is even in the smallest, most minute atom. So it is simply another name for God—not a particular person, but a certain personality as we often imagine. Mahāprabhujī was an incarnation of Lord Viṣṇu, and he came in a human form. Duḥkhyān ko sukhānkarī: to bring us happiness, to help those who are suffering. As it is said, “Whenever dharma declines and adharma dominates the world, I incarnate myself in this world.” Dharma means righteousness, following spiritual laws. This implies that those who uphold dharma have a hard time in such ages, and those who follow spiritual principles face difficulties. In Kali Yuga spiritual life is not easy; it is not generally accepted. So Mahāprabhujī, the Guru, incarnates to help those on the spiritual path, to establish, to re‑establish the dharma, to guide through teaching and through the example of his own life. Kīna haṁsa uddhāra. Haṁsa, the swan, is a symbol for the soul, and uddhāra means liberation. He came to liberate the souls. The wave feels so lonely, separate from the other waves and separate from the vast ocean. But if we think, is it true? Is there ever any separation? It is just holding on to this physical form of a wave that creates separation. The essence of the wave is simply water, the essence of the other waves is water, and the essence of the huge ocean is also water. Where is the separation? It is only in our mind—our clinging to our individuality. We ourselves create the separation. The Guru simply shows us that this is our ignorance, and this very recognition is already our liberation. Kīna haṁsa uddhāra: he came to liberate the souls. Darśana kārya so duḥkha mite. Those who have the darśana of the Guru, their suffering is removed. That means you come to satsaṅga, you understand, your view changes, your life changes. Your life begins to breathe freely, and you see your existence from a different point of view, from a different angle. You see the chance that human life offers, you see a practical path that is possible, and you realize it is a blessing to have a human body, a human life. You have an aim, a motivation, a deep meaning. That is how satsaṅga, the darśana of a Guru, transforms us. Through darśana, our suffering is as good as gone. Naraka—this is hell—and you leave behind all the sufferings of hell. What I just said already clarifies where this hell is: it is right here. Most people experience this world as a hell, but it is a matter of view. When our view changes, suddenly everything is transformed, and of course it also involves our qualities, how we live, and with what attitude we live our life. Jamarāja, the Lord of Death, Lord Yama. What is the power of Lord Yama? This is exactly the subject we touched on with avatāra and Mahāsamādhi. The power of Lord Yama is great; he is the Lord of Death. This world is called Mṛtyu Loka, the world of death, but his power is limited—it operates only on the physical plane. As long as our consciousness, our identification, remains on the physical level, we are in trouble. But once we lift our consciousness higher and realize who we really are, what then is the power of Lord Yama? Nothing. Exactly this is the statement here: “Kyā?”—a question. What is the power of Lord Yama? Nothing, for one on whom the Guru looks with mercy. That means one who follows the Guru and possesses the Guru’s kṛpā. Over such a soul the Lord of Death no longer has any power. Kāla na nikaṭa nahīṁ ā sakī. Now the Lord of Death cannot come close to you any more. And the next line is really funny: Kare kāla ko āhāra—now the Guru makes death his food. So death cannot come close, for it must be afraid the Guru will eat him. I think that is a very beautiful way of expressing it. When we are in the shelter of the Guru, we are protected. But to be in the shelter of the Guru does not only mean being physically close; it means being close in the heart, holding on—holding on to the teaching, holding on to the blessing. Vinā satguru nahīṁ tarasakhe tāraṇa. Tāraṇa means to cross over, to cross the ocean of the world, as we have it in so many bhajans. Without a Satguru, this is not possible. For whom? Sūrya Nārāyaṇa Muni Avatāra—for everyone. For the Devas (Sūrya means the Devas), Nara (humans), and Munis and Avatāras, saints and divine incarnations. Now, let us think: did Mahāprabhujī really need a Guru? He was an avatāra, so I do not think he needed one. Does light need light to become enlightened? But to give us a clear path and a clear example, even he took a guru. And we know from Līlā Amṛta how many events unfolded between them to inspire us, and how many loving bhajans Mahāprabhujī composed in praise of his Guru. Nowadays it has become fashionable to say, “The Guru is good, but I don’t need one,” or to go a step further and claim there are no real Gurus. Or, as I recently heard someone say, “I am now my own antaryāmī.” Antaryāmī is the word for the inner guru, the inner master. That statement comes from our ego. It tells you that you are already gone spiritually; you have lost your path. Why? Because on our path various things happen. Two patterns are standard. First, we practise and practise and it seems nothing happens—so we think nothing happens. On the subtle level, something is always happening, but in our conscious awareness we feel we are making no progress. We often hear from others about blissful experiences, this experience and that experience, and it seems to happen to everyone but me. In reality, I think most of us are of this type: nothing dramatic arises because the process is so subtle that you do not register it. Then we reach a point where we want to give up. We lose our discipline, we lose our interest, and slowly, slowly māyā takes over. At that stage we need the Guru to clarify where we are heading and to bring us back onto the right path. These are moments when you can sometimes see Swāmījī caring for a disciple with so much love. I myself experienced this, especially in 1989 when I was in India. I had been Swāmījī’s disciple for two years, but I was quite intellectual. In that moment I realized that never ever had anyone in my life loved me as he did. Sometimes Swāmījī is so caring, so encouraging, so full of love in showing that love. It is because we need it—we need encouragement on our path so that we do not lose our way, so that our heart may open. This is, I would say, the first standard problem: we feel we make no progress and want to give up, and we need the Guru’s encouragement. The other aspect is when a person really does have some experiences. Others may start respecting you; you fall into a certain role. You become the teacher, the leader, the organizer, you are respected for this or that. Or you have genuine spiritual experiences. All of that is quite dangerous, because then the ego slips in so easily: “I am so proud that I have no ego.” That is where we land! Then we need the Guru in a different aspect—the Śiva aspect. He comes with the triśūla and says, “What’s going on?” Then you need a whack on the head, and that hurts. This is not the warm water over the stone; now comes the axe that cuts and says, “What’s going on?”—cutting the ego into pieces. Just look at what Swāmījī Jasrāj shared about his experiences with Holī Gurujī. All the time Holī Gurujī tried to awaken in him this or that identification: “Ah, I’m good at this, I’m good at that.” And as soon as that pride surfaced—boom, came the next blow. Therefore, binā satguru nahīṁ tarasakhe—without the Guru we cannot cross the ocean of the world. And this is valid for everyone. Now comes the most important statement of this bhajana: two are compared—the Guru and Īśvara, which again means God. And it says the Guru is greater than God. That is quite a bold statement, and I think we find it very clearly expressed here. When we explain the role of the master to someone, we usually say, “Yes, the master guides us, teaches us, inspires us.” Perhaps we add that the master is the channel of the divine, that he leads us to God and that one cannot find God without the master. I think that is the way we generally think and speak. But did you ever put it like this? I suppose most people would be taken aback: “The Guru is greater than God? What are you saying?” How are we to understand this? You see, God established the rules of this universe, and one important rule is the law of karma. So the universe runs, life runs, the cycle of birth and death runs. Now, what is the role of the Guru? The Guru is the manifestation of God’s compassion. God himself comes into the very conditions he created here. Why did we come into this physical body? Because of karmas, because of kūli karmām. So what is the karma of an avatāra? No karma—none. Why then is he here? For one single reason: out of compassion he sees us suffering, struggling, striving, and he comes to help. You can say the Guru is the active arm reaching out to us. For example, we distinguish two aspects of God: God the Father and God the Mother. God the Father is the divine, pure consciousness; God the Mother is the whole creation. You cannot judge and say one is more than the other—they are two different aspects. In the same way, God who created this whole universe and all the laws that govern it is one aspect; and the aspect of God that reaches out to us, that comes as an avatāra into this physical world, is another aspect. But for us, this aspect is far more important. It is where we can hold on. Think of a calf: it looks for the milk, and it knows the milk is in the mother. The calf comes close to the mother, walks all around her, yet it gets no milk. The milk is there; the mother is the milk. You know it and you are near, but you do not receive it. So you need that channel, that connection, where you truly get the milk. Only there, when you connect, do you obtain the essence of the milk. Everything is present in God, and we know it. But to access it, we must access it through the right channel, and that is the Guru. Therefore, for us the Guru is much more important than God, and to disconnect from the Guru means to disconnect from God. Īśvara se ādi guru, kāraṇa guṇa ādi guru. The Guru is greater than God, and all the qualities, all the abilities, are under his command. That means when we want something from God, we have to go to the Guru, and there we receive it. Siddhīp Nārāyaṇa Satguru bheṇṭ dīyau: he says, “Now I met my Satguru.” Bheṇṭ, or bhind, means the meeting. He gave me the grace to meet him. It is also a karma to meet the Guru. Most of us are not meeting the Guru for the first time; it is a continuing karma. Remember Arjuna’s question in the Bhagavad Gītā: “I am practising yoga and trying my best to reach the goal of liberation. But what if I die before reaching the aim? Then everything is lost, everything is in vain.” And Kṛṣṇa answers, “It is not like that. No step is lost. Every step counts. If that happens, you will be reborn under favourable conditions. This goes with you as karma, and at the proper time that karma will awaken. You will find your path again, and the spiritual development you had amassed will simply reawaken.” That means we are given a chance to continue in another life, and that means, first of all, finding our Guru, our guru-paramparā again, and receiving the mantra again. In this way our karma guides us quite naturally to where we belong. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Satguru bheṭāyā: I met my Guru, Dīp Nārāyaṇa Mahāprabhujī. Mahimā agama apara: his glory is incomprehensible, beyond description. Brahmānanda Purī bhinave: I am so happy that he was so merciful; he chose me, he accepted me. You see, when we receive initiation, it is really like an adoption. Just as parents adopt a child and it becomes their own—they love it, care for it, and when it is naughty, they care even more. When the Guru accepts us, that is the greatest day of our life. He gives us the mantra, and from that moment our spiritual path truly starts. Everything before was preparation. Now, listen to how humbly Brahmānandajī speaks here about his relationship with Mahāprabhujī. We know from Līlā Amṛta that Brahmānandajī himself was an enlightened saint, but here he is like a humble child. He says, “I am so happy that he accepted me.” We had the word “Adam” yesterday, which means one who is adharmic—a sinner, you could say. He liberated the sinner. This is the attitude of humility. As Swāmījī always says, progress in spirituality is progress in humility. Let us sing the bhajana. Śuddhi prabhuvana kī jaya. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān, Śrī Brahmānandajī Mahārāj, Śrī Kriyā Jayā. So our seminar is now slowly drawing to its close. What remains is to say a big thank you: thank you to all who made this seminar possible. Join in the karma yoga and help us to create such a beautiful, relaxed atmosphere here. Thank you also to the translator, to the video team, to the kitchen, to all who did the cleaning, and to all who served on security. And whom did I forget? Swāmī Gajānandajī, Swāmī Pārvatījī.