Jāmātṛ Muni’s Influence in Ṭhākura Bhaktivinoda and Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī

Part 2: Can Nitya-siddhas Speak Relative Statements and Not be Downplayed for That?

One of the underlying reasons for the type of psychology depicted in my previous article is the
belief that every single ācārya in our lineage must necessarily be a nitya-siddha, or an eternally
liberated soul who has directly descended from the spiritual world. This thinking carries the
subtle implication that everything a nitya-siddha says must be always absolutely true and correct.
But this apparent exhibition of strong faith in our guru-varga may reveal a lack of capacity in
dealing with statements that may put our faith to the test, which can cause us to be overridden by
an emotional disposition and use evasive mechanisms. To put it simply: while a kaniṣṭha’s
perspective on faith will contemplate śāstra through the lens of his emotions, a madhyama will
analyze his emotions through the lens of śāstra—and the uttama’s emotions are in themselves
śāstra. Let’s next further unpack this complex underlying phenomenon.

As a matter of fact, the notion of the guru always being a nitya-siddha does not constitute our
Gauḍīya siddhānta but speaks of a blurry and hazy concept not fully unpacked by those who
claim such a possibility. What do we actually mean by nitya-siddha? What are the assumptions
we make when we invoke such a term? One may feel the urge to make one’s guru a nitya-siddha
and then extend that template to everyone else in one’s lineage, but this is not necessarily the
actual reality. Indeed, after describing the attributes of a topmost spiritual master in his Bhakti
Sandarbha 203, Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī says, “Because a guru of this caliber may not be available,
some people accept many teachers, desiring to learn the fundamentals of logical analysis and the
philosophical distinctions between different wisdom schools.” Thus, he hints at the possibility of
the guru not being a nitya-siddha in every case. By making this point I do not intend to
downplay anyone’s actual standing or deny the possibility of some gurus actually being nitya-
siddhas. But it is important for us to understand that this is not an absolute rule in every single
case. A guru can be a nitya-siddha, but he can also be a sādhana-siddha or even an advanced
madhyama-sādhaka.1 And this should not be a problem for any of us.

For the sake of further insight, let’s for a moment hypothetically imagine that someone like
Ṭhākura Bhaktivinoda was a sādhana-siddha—as he depicted himself—and not a nitya-siddha.
How do we feel when contemplating such a possibility? If we feel uncomfortable and consider
this a serious problem, then we have a problem because we are creating a false sense of hierarchy
in the realm of siddhas. As Śrīla Prabhupāda is said to have once declared when asked about
who was superior among these two types of siddhas, “The important word here is siddha!” Thus,
there is no need to forcibly position all ācāryas as nitya-siddhas in an attempt to make them
more of what they already are, but, indeed, we could benefit enormously by contemplating the
possibility that some of them may not be nitya-siddhas. For example, by studying Bhaktivinoda
Ṭhākura’s sincere expressions in his unique songs, we can find deep hope in our personal
journey, instead of just dismissing them by saying, “He wrote them for us, but he was not
actually feeling those things, since he is a nitya-siddha.” While he indeed was, we cannot deny
the fact that he really felt those things himself. Is Bilvamaṅgala Ṭhākura less of a siddha because

1
This notion is not only supported by Śrī Jīva Goswāmī, but by contemporary ācāryas such as Śrīla A. C. Bhaktivedanta
Swami Prabhupāda, Śrīla B. R. Śrīdhara Deva Goswāmī, and Śrīla B. V. Nārāyaṇa Mahārāja, among others.
of his background with the prostitute Cintāmaṇi? Is Prahlāda less of a siddha due to his activities
in his previous life? If properly addressed, such examples have the potential to fully inspire us in
our progressive journey as sādhakas, so there is no need at all to reject them.

However, it is possible that some subconscious bias may still force us to feel the necessity for an
ācārya to be the highest possible personality, this generally according to what we understand as
the highest. This is similar to the idea that all ācāryas must be drenched in mādhurya-rasa to be
fully authentic because if they are in a “lower” rasa, this may represent a problem. And indeed,
this represents a problem, but only for us, in the form of rasism—being racist in the context of
rasa. Therefore, although it may seem a totally separate topic, it is highly possible that this kind
of underlying background may be intimately connected to the need to prove how everything
Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura said was perfect, and then forcibly—and problematically—trying to
explain whatever the Six Goswāmīs said in such a way that it may fit our purpose, so our faith
remains reassured but unchallenged.2

We may convince ourselves and others about our strong śraddhā due to not allowing for the
possibility of our ācāryas having presented something relative at times. And we may claim that
those who dare to do so are possessed of weak faith, or even something worse than that. But such
a viewpoint could actually be a very tender faith which feels the need to absolutize even the
relative, because it does not have enough strength to deal with the realm of paradox. On the other
hand, a more mature form of śraddhā is open for these things to happen and has the capacity to
accommodate such challenging statements without being diminished in its conviction, but
growing exponentially.

As with most of our actions, subconscious influences generally define many of the things we do
or say without ourselves even being aware of these influences. Could it be that the pūrvapakṣī’s3
resistance to bhakti not being inherent in the jīva, is a resistance to the possibility of accepting
that some of our ācāryas may have at times said something that is not absolute? This could be
drawn from his main emphases on the point that Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura is a nitya-siddha. While I
do not disagree with such a notion, the context in which it has been repeatedly placed was to
imply that whatever the Ṭhākura said must be perfect in every sense. And, therefore, Śrī
Bhaktivinoda could have never said something different from siddhānta or contradicted himself
by saying different things in different places. But as we have already seen, at least overtly,
certain things that the Ṭhākura and his successors have said—for example, that bhakti is inherent
and also that it is not—cannot be both absolutized simultaneously without experiencing some
form of conflict.4 Thus, deep reconciliation is still required.

To protect and worship the legacy of Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura means to study it comprehensively,
as Śrī Kṛṣṇa himself says in Bhagavad-gītā 18.70, “Those who study this conversation worship

2
Another similar example would be to think that since Śrīla Prabhupāda at times said we fell from the spiritual world, then
whatever śāstra has said to the contrary should be forcibly viewed in accordance to Prabhupāda’s statements, and not vice
versa.

3
The term pūrvapakṣa refers to an opposing view, while a pūrvapakṣī is the one who presents the pūrvapakṣa.

4
For more on this, see part 6 of this series.
me through their intelligence.” This is my humble pursuit, which attempts to honor and protect
the Ṭhākura’s legacy not through an absolutistic glorification which does not fully acknowledge
every conceptual puzzle and tries to solve them, but by properly understanding and reconciling
any apparent contradiction in the light of our original Gauḍīya siddhānta.

We consider Śrī Ṭhākura Bhaktivinoda the Seventh Goswāmī, which implies that he is to be
understood on the basis of what the first six said. The Ṭhākura’s authority is derived from the Six
Goswāmīs, and not vice versa. Why? Because the founding ācāryas and śāstra-gurus of the
Gauḍīya sampradaya are the Six Goswāmīs, not Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura. This in no way
downplays the Ṭhākura’s role but, understood in its proper context, represents praise that he
himself will find extremely pleasing. Similarly, by saying, for example, that Śrīla Prabhupāda is
not the founder ācārya of the Gauḍīya sampradaya we are not lessening his position in any way,
but presenting an objective fact in our attempt to connect him with his own lineage. He is the
founder ācārya of ISKCON, which is one of many branches in the Gauḍīya sampradāya. If this
is not enough for us and we thus feel the need to make some of our ācāryas even “bigger,” then
we may fall into what could be termed ācāryaism.5

Basically, ācāryaism refers to the stance in which one specific ācārya—especially

contemporary—is the be-all and end-all of all ācāryas, to the point that we no longer feel the
need to resort to the sampradāya and founding ācāryas he represents, since that particular
ācārya is seen as the sampradāya incarnated. Such a viewpoint is not at all healthy for the
development of any sādhaka, since there is an absolute need to take nourishment from the entire
sampradāya. However, the pūrvapakṣī has hinted at this notion of ācāryaism by prominently
concentrating his main arguments not on the foundational canon of the Gauḍīya sampradāya but
almost exclusively—as we will see from the next section onwards—in more contemporary
ācāryas. Even more problematic is his is focus on other Vaiṣṇava sampradāyas. An example of
this is his introduction to this subject, where he said that the topic of bhakti in the jīva is a central
pillar in Śrī Bhaktivinoda’s presentation as well as that of other ācāryas after him, especially
Śrīla Prabhupāda. Interestingly, he never mentioned that such a topic is equally important for the
founding ācāryas of the sampradāya, who unanimously pointed in the direction of noninherence.

It is through this spirit of ācāryaism that the pūrvapakṣī has conflated whether bhakti is inherent
or not with possible reasons for Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura’s presentation, although one thing is not
synonymous with the other at all. As already explained, that is a separate conversation. However,
the pūrvapakṣī clearly avoided speaking about whether rasa or siddha-deha is inherent by
arguing that these topics constitute a separate conversation. But he tried to fuse into one single
conversation two different topics that actually require two different conversations—whether
bhakti or prema is inherent in the jīva, and why Ṭhākura Bhaktivinoda and others seemed to
have said otherwise at times.

Any Gauḍīya representative should be able to establish the siddhānta of bhakti in the jīva
independently of the reasons why the Ṭhākura or others occasionally made their particular
presentation. An example could be given in this regard: If I am discussing with Vaiṣṇavas from
another sampradāya about whether bhakti is inherent or not, I do not need to explain to them

5
I thank Dulāl Candra dāsa for coining and sharing this term.
why Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura said what he said at times. The way to establish this siddhānta is to
first go to our śāstra-gurus and then view other’s statements in the light of the Goswāmī
grantha. We should not force a superficial interpretation of the Goswāmīs’ conclusions by
limitedly resorting to some statements of our contemporary Gauḍīya ācāryas. And further, to
also bring in other sampradāyas confuses the conversation and deflects our focus from what is
important to us and our sampradaya, as we will see in the next article.

For more on Swami B. P. Padmanabha’s forthcoming book Inherent or Inherited? Bhakti in

the Jīva According to Gauḍīya Vedānta, see http://www.bhaktiinthejiva.com/ and
http://www.facebook.com/bhaktiinthejiva.