© 1998 VNN
|
EDITORIAL December 25, 1998 VNN2737 On Leaving ISKCON BY STEVEN J. GELBERG EDITORIAL, Dec 25 (VNN) — When Prabhupada predicted, once, that ninety percent of his disciples would eventually leave his movement, we, his disciples, were shocked that such a thing could be possible. In time, the overwhelming majority of his followers did indeed leave ISKCON, and it now appears the same will hold true for his grand-disciples. The effect of this on-going exodus is that the number of ex-members of ISKCON vastly exceeds that of current members, and the gap will only widen as the years pass. There exists, therefore, a substantial and growing body of people who share what can only be described as a traumatic experience. It's hard to imagine an experience more wrenching, more potentially disorienting, than leaving a spiritual community or tradition to which one has devoted years of one's life. To lose faith in a comprehensive system of ideas that have shaped one's consciousness and guided one's actions, to leave a community that has constituted one's social world and defined one's social identity, to renounce a way of life that is an entire mode of being, is an experience of momentous implications. Especially when the community/tradition one is leaving defines itself as the repository and bastion of all goodness, all meaning, all truth, all decency, all meaningful human attainment, it may require a major psychological effort to reorient oneself both to one's own self and to the wider world. Internally, one must work to rediscover and reclaim one's own unique, personal sources of meaning, truth, and spirituality and to live authentically from out of those inner depths. Externally, one must learn how to deal with the outer world, the vast territory laying beyond the gates of the spiritual enclave -- that place that has for so long been viewed as a dark and evil abode unfit for human habitation. It's a fact that very often devotees no longer happy living in ISKCON prolong their stay simply out of fear of the demonized world. This re-orientation to self and re-entry into the world is no small task, and it's more easily finessed when one has the support of others who've travelled a similar path. In my own journey I've received such support, and wish now to offer it to others. Though I've had little to do with ISKCON for nearly six years now, I still feel a certain kinship with devotees, both past and present. How could I not? I devoted fully seventeen years of my life (ages eighteen to thirty-five -- my youth!) to a life of Krishna consciousness in the association of similarly committed devotees. Virtually all my friends and acquaintances were devotees. For most of those seventeen years I had not the slightest doubt that I'd die while still in ISKCON (and rate a half-page obituary in BTG). I absorbed Prabhupada's teachings into the depths of my being and preached them with an enthusiasm born of serene confidence in their absolute truth and efficacy. I dedicated myself both to encouraging a deeper immersion in Vaishnava spirituality on the part of my fellow devotees (through editing such books as The Spiritual Master and the Disciple and Namamrta: The Nectar of the Holy Name), and to cultivating respect and appreciation for ISKCON among intellectuals and scholars (such as with my book of interviews, Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna). Though my way of thinking and mode of being have changed considerably since leaving the movement, I cannot forget all my brothers and sisters who have shared the ISKCON/Krishna consciousness experience: aging pioneers, subsequent joiners, and expatriates alike. I embrace all of you, both friends and strangers, sisters and brothers, as fellow travelers on the path. There must be something in our respective temperaments that drew us all to the path of Krishna consciousness -- some similar karmic history, some particular spiritual orientation, some certain degree of sincerity -- something or other that landed both you and I on a path traversed by so few. I, like you, entered the movement because I desperately wanted to know what in the world is going on in the universe, to find order in this madness, to be touched and transformed by Truth, to experience peace and joy, to crawl out of my rotting skin and confused mind and rise into some sublime Transcendence. I, like you, felt an inexplicable attraction to the supernally beautiful, blue-skinned boy Krishna, to the strangely beautiful music (how rarely heard!) of the mahamantra, to a felt sense of progression toward liberation from this highly imperfect material world (not to mention cauliflower pakoras and sweet-rice). I, like you, was blessed with tastes, now and then, of spiritual bliss -- feelings not easily expressed in words. I cannot help, therefore, but feel a special kinship with you, and I offer you my sincere respects and affection, whomever you are. I am writing this because I know that some of you, or many of you, perhaps most of you, have doubts, at times, about the truth of Krishna consciousness, or at least its relevance to your life -- to your own personal spiritual and psychological growth. In my last few years in the movement I certainly did. And I know that, in spite of claims to the contrary, there are powerful disincentives to openly expressing one's doubts in the company of devotees (loss of prestige, to name one), and even to admitting them to oneself (loss of self-respect, acknowledgement of grave personal failure, fear of falling apart, etc.). Doubts, however, may be the voice of one's own inner self, the self that doesn't always exactly jive with the exterior "system" of Krishna consciousness, the self that protests being shaped and molded into something it is not. No matter how much one's external mind assents to the authority of ISKCON (and the spiritual tradition from which it emerged), if the inner self is not being addressed, respected, honored, given expression, allowed to grow, it is, sooner or later, going to raise a protest. When that little inner voice first begins to speak, it can be quieted with regimental thinking, louder chanting, increased outer busy-ness, or simple denial. But sometime down the road it is bound to return, a little louder, a little more insistent, and at some point you'll have no other choice than to acknowledge it. I would like, now, to address that little inner voice (or that voice of growing volume) and answer it with my own. I have, by the way, no malicious intent in doing so. I'm no anti-cultist or any other species of crusading ideologue. I don't wish to start a club, an organization, a revolution, or any other exciting enterprise. I've nothing to gain personally from this exercise except the pleasure of speaking words that I think need to be spoken to old friends and friends yet unknown. I hope that you'll listen to me with an open mind. What I wish to do, now, is relate to you some of the reasons why I (and my then wife, Sitarani) left ISKCON after so many years of committed service (twenty-five between us). I've divided my reflections into several categories: Continues here: http://www.steamboats.com/gelberg1.html Comment on this Story This story URL: http://www.vnn.org/editorials/ET9812/ET25-2737.html
NEWS DESK | EDITORIALS | TOP |
