The Shape of God

I just finished Radhanath Swami's memoir A Journey Home.  He won me over.

Big time.

I began reading skeptically.  I'm not entirely sure why I cling to this skepticism when reading about someone else's spiritual journey.  Why am I so quick to judge or find fault?  I guess authentic, earnest, spiritual seeking throes our own journeys into sharp relief.  It's sometimes easier to go on the offensive than to share the quest.

Swami recounted his overland journey at age 19 from western Europe to India.  Somewhere around Afghanistan I began relinquishing my disbelief.  I'm not saying I believe every word entirely as he wrote it-- there's no way I could authenticate his story.  But I guess I believe that he believes it.  I began to respect his journey and the insight it provided.

As he wandered he studied world religions and various incarnations of spirituality.  While in Europe he spent time in the church of St. Francis of Assisi.  He spent time at great mosques in the Middle East.  In India he found his spiritual home in Vrindavan, and began the bhakti yoga path of loving God as he appeared in the form of Krishna.

One of Swami's struggles was to determine if God was an amorphous force in the Universe, or if He took shape as Jesus, Mohammad, Krishna, or any other entity worshiped by humans.  And what it means to worship a force versus worshiping a relatable figure.  He began concluding that both were true-- God is an entity that shapes all of creation, but he also took form at various moments and in various times to enable humans to cultivate a personal relationship to that force.

I'd previously read arguments that Hinduism is largely an umbrella term created by British Imperialism to characterize a huge range of religious and spiritual practices.  Swami indirectly supports this premise by sharing the range of his religious experiences within vast India.  He begins to understand polytheism again as many shapes and forms of one God; all incarnated to allow people to relate to all aspects of the Divine.

This memoir helped me better understand the experience of sadhus, swamis, and gurus.  It helped me better understand the various paths we each take to know ourselves and know a sense of larger connectedness.  And it certainly reinvigorated my desire to travel to India.

When I was 18 I desperately wanted to travel to India and study Sanskrit.  My church had a sister church somewhere in southwest India.  I figured I could go there, work, get my bearings, and then begin venturing onward to learn in an ashram.  I was convinced against the idea.  It's so interesting to me that a decade later that urge East still manifests itself.  I'm curious where the journey will take me.