God as a Man - Avatars | Vivekananda
Wherever His name is spoken, that very place is holy. How much more so is the man who speaks His name, and with what veneration ought we to approach that man out of whom comes to us spiritual truth!
Such great teachers of a spiritual truth are indeed very few in numbers in this world, but the world is never altogether without them. They are always the fairest as flowers of human life
—“the ocean of mercy without any motive.”
—“Know the Guru to be Me,” says Shri Krishna in the Bhagavata.
The moment the world is absolutely bereft of these, it becomes a hideous hell and hastens on to its destruction.
Higher and nobler than all ordinary ones, are another set of teachers, the Avatāras of Ishwara, in the world. They can transmit spirituality on with a touch, even with a mere wish. The lowest and the most degraded characters become in one second saints at their command. They are the Teachers of all teachers, the highest manifestations of God through man. We cannot see God except through them. We cannot help worshipping them; and indeed they are the only ones whom we are bound to worship.
No man can really see God except through these human manifestations. If we try to see God otherwise, we make for ourselves a hideous caricature of Him and believe the caricature to be no worse than the original.
There is a story of an ignorant man who was asked to make an image of the God Shiva, and who, after days of hard struggle, manufactured only the image of a monkey.
So, whenever we try to think of God as He is in His absolute perfection, we invariably meet with the most miserable failure; because as long as we are men, we cannot conceive Him as anything higher than man.
The time will come when we shall transcend our human nature and know Him as He is; but as long as we are men we must worship Him in man and as man.
Talk, as you may, try as you may, you cannot think of God except as a man. You may deliver great intellectual discourses on God and on all things under the sun, become great rationalists and prove to your satisfaction that all these accounts of the Avatāras of God as man are nonsense.
But let us come for a moment to practical common sense. What is there behind this kind of remarkable intellect? Zero, nothing, simply so much froth.
When next you hear a man delivering a great intellectual lecture against this worship of the Avatāras of God, get hold of him and ask him what his idea of God is, what he understands by “omnipotence,” “omnipresence,” and all similar terms, beyond the spelling of the words.
He really means nothing by them; he cannot formulate as their meaning the any idea unaffected by his own human nature; of he is no better off in this matter than the man on the street who has not read a single book.
That man in the street, however, is quiet and does not disturb the peace of the world; while this big talker creates disturbance and misery among mankind.
Religion is, after all, realisation, and we must make the sharpest distinction between talk and intuitive experience. What we experience in the depths of our souls is realisation.
Nothing indeed is so uncommon as common sense in regard to this matter. By our present constitution we are limited and bound to see God as man.
If, for instance, the buffaloes want to worship God, they will, in keeping with their own nature, see Him as a huge buffalo; if a fish wants to worship God, it will have to form an idea of Him as a big fish; and man has to think of Him as man.
And his various conceptions are not due to morbidly active imagination.
Man, the buffalo, and the fish—all may be supposed to represent so many different vessels, so to say. All these vessels go to the sea of God to get filled with water, each according to its own shape and capacity;
in the man, the water takes the shape of man, in the buffalo, the shape of a buffalo, and in the fish, the shape of a fish. In each of these vessels there is the same water of the sea of God.
When men see Him, they see Him as man, and the animals, if they have any conception of God at all, must see Him as animal—each according to its own ideal. So we cannot help seeing God as man, and, therefore, we are bound to worship Him as man. There is no other way.
Two kinds of men do not worship God as man—the human brute who has no religion, and the Paramahamsa who has risen beyond all the weaknesses of humanity and has transcended the limits of his own human nature. To him all nature has become his own Self. He alone can worship God as He is.
Here, too, as in all other cases, the two extremes meet. The extreme of ignorance and the other extreme of knowledge—neither of these goes through acts of worship.
The human brute does not worship because of his ignorance, and the Jīvanmuktas (free souls) do not worship, because they have realised God in themselves.
Being between these two poles of existence, if any one tells you that he is not going to worship God as man, take kindly care of that man: he is, not to use any harsher term, an irresponsible talker; his religion is for unsound and empty brains.
God understands human failings and becomes man to do good to humanity.
Such is Shri Krishna's declaration in the Gita on Incarnation.