Back in 2018, I visited India – and for my journey to Delhi and Agra and Jaipur, I took along the Penguin Classics edition of the Mahabharata, the epic war poem that has played a foundational role within the Hindu culture of South Asia. Little did I know, at the time, that the Bhagavad-Gita (Sanskrit, “God’s Song”), a core text of the Hindu faith, is contained within the Mahabharata. Now, years later, I have returned to the Bhagavad-Gita, considering it outside of the hundreds of pages of Mahabharata intrigue and combat that surround it – and I am glad to have done so.
A bit of context may help here, for the benefit of readers who are unfamiliar (as I once was) with the relevant historical and cultural background. The Mahabharata tells the story of a war, fought between two families, over the rulership of the classical kingdom of Indraprastha. The Pandavas are the rightful rulers of the kingdom; the Kauravas have seized power through deceit. A war is to be fought between the two families, at the city of Kurukshetra, to decide the destiny of Indraprastha.
Among the leaders of the Pandava forces is the brave and noble prince Arjuna. He is not only brave and noble but also fortunate, in that the god Krishna has taken on human form (an avatar) and come down to Earth to serve as Arjuna’s charioteer. As the two sides prepare for war, Arjuna meditates sadly on the death and suffering that the war will bring, and wonders if he and his family are doing the right thing.
What follows is a sort of catechism, a question-and-answer education in the tenets of the Hindu faith. Krishna imparts unto Arjuna the wisdom that he will need in order to lead in the war and fulfill his dharma (his divinely mandated duty). Each person’s dharma varies, depending upon that person’s established station in life – priest, noble, soldier, merchant, farmer, unskilled labourer. And the importance of social hierarchy in classical India is emphasized when Krishna at one point tells Arjuna – as, indeed, he is telling every reader of the Bhagavad Gita – to “do thy duty, even if it be humble, rather than another’s, even if it be great. To die in one’s duty is life; to live in another’s is death” (p. 59).
Early in the Bhagavad Gita, a despairing and spiritually troubled Arjuna says, “I will not fight, Krishna.” In response, Krishna tells Arjuna that “The wise grieve not for those who live; and they grieve not for those who die – for life and death shall pass away” (p. 48). Krishna encourages Arjuna to go ahead and participate in the coming Kurukshetra War: “Prepare for war with peace in thy soul. Be at peace in pleasure and in pain, in gain and in loss – in victory, or in the loss of a battle. In this peace, there is no sin” (p. 51).
The words of Krishna here made me think of the practitioners of Stoic philosophy in classical Greece and Rome. Philosophers like Epictetus and Seneca and Marcus Aurelius encouraged people to accept the vicissitudes of fortune with serenity – like literature’s most famous Stoic, Hamlet’s friend Horatio, whom Hamlet praises for his evenness of temper, saying, “[B]lest are those/Whose blood and judgement are so well commingled/That they are not a pipe for Fortune’s finger/To sound what stop she please.”
The spiritual discipline of Yoga becomes a major area of emphasis here, as Krishna tells Arjuna to “Do thy work in the peace of Yoga and, free from selfish desires, be not moved in success or in failure. Yoga is evenness of mind – a peace that is ever the same” (p. 52). In the same vein, Krishna adds shortly afterward that “When thy mind, which may be wavering in the contradictions of many scriptures, shall rest unshaken in divine contemplation, then the goal of Yoga is thine” (p. 53).
The achievement of inner peace through the renunciation of desire is a major theme throughout the Bhagavad Gita. When Arjuna asks Krishna to describe “the man of tranquil wisdom”, Krishna states in reply that “When a man surrenders all desires that come to the heart, and by the grace of God find the joy of God, then his soul has indeed found peace” (p. 53). Krishna adds in that regard that “When a man dwells on the pleasures of sense, attraction for them arises in him. From attraction arises desire, the lust for possession, and this leads to passion, to anger” (p. 54). Desire by its very nature inevitably leads a person away from the peace of mind that is every human being’s goal, whether one knows it or not.
Arjuna no doubt appreciates this religious and philosophical tutelage, but at the same time he is being called upon to lead his army in war – a war in which, he knows, millions will almost certainly die. It is understandable, therefore, that he asks Krishna, “If thy thought is that vision is greater than action, why dost thou enjoin upon me the terrible action of war? My mind is in confusion because in thy words I find contradictions” (p. 56).
In response, Krishna tells Arjuna to “Offer to me all thy works and rest thy mind on the Supreme. Be free from vain hopes and selfish thoughts, and with inner peace fight thou thy fight” (p. 58). Here, it became clear to me, as it did not when I read the Bhagavad Gita as part of the Mahabharata, that Krishna is referring not just to the upcoming military battle that Arjuna will lead, but also to the spiritual battles that are part of every person’s life. Such ideas are re-emphasized when Krishna tells Arjuna to “Kill therefore with the sword of wisdom the doubt, born of ignorance, that lies in thy heart. Be one in self-harmony, in Yoga, and arise, great warrior, arise” (p. 64).
Whenever I am reading a sacred text, I always look for where I can find ideas that intersect with those of other sacred texts. I found it interesting, therefore, when Krishna stated that “I am the same to all beings, and my love is ever the same; but those who worship me with devotion, they are in me and I am in them. For even if the greatest sinner worships me with all his soul, he must be considered righteous, because of his righteous will. And he shall soon become pure and reach everlasting peace. For this is my word of promise, that he who loves me shall not perish” (p. 82). I wondered how a Christian reader – turning, say, from a reading of Saint John’s writings in the Greek Testament – might respond to these ideas from the Bhagavad Gita.
This consideration of the Bhagavad Gita hardly begins even to scratch the surface of the brilliant complexity of this fascinating text. It is a book that anyone with an interest in the major religions and cultures of the world – regardless of one’s own cultural or religious background – should read.