“His job is to shed light, and not to master.”
The invitation has arrived and you are thrilled to be invited to the big party. When the happy day arrives you dress in your finest attire and hop into your car. On the way to the gala event you realize, however, you don’t quite know how to get to your destination. So you stop a friendly looking guy and ask for directions. He tells you that it’s really fairly simple, though not necessarily easy, but if you follow his instructions you are certain to end up where you want to go.
Here, however, is where you start to act kooky. Instead of following his directions, you get out of your car and throw yourself at his feet, praising him as “The One Who Knows The Directions.” The next day you come back with flowers and gifts, performing a ceremony in front of his house, intoning all that is holy in praise of “The One Who Knows The Directions”. You return again and again, bringing your friends, preaching to your neighbors, telling them all about “The One Who Knows The Directions.” The whole time you are making a big deal over the wrong thing, your songs of praise are so loud you can’t hear the gentleman softly asking, “Have you actually followed my directions and gone to the party?”
I can hardly think of anything more misunderstood on the spiritual path than the relationship of guru, teacher, and chela, student. The duty of the guru is to point in the right direction and the duty of the chela is to walk in that direction. My experience is that there are many qualified teachers who properly point, but there are few students who actually walk.
There are two extreme states in the relationship of the student to his teacher. These are the classic imbalances in yoga known as “too little” and “too much.” In “too little” consciousness, the individual makes a foolish assumption that he is intelligent and intuitive enough to travel the spiritual path on his own. The one who feels this way is making an arrogant evaluation about his own brains and brawn, one which will cost him time and energy in the long run. Plus, his conceit will ensure he does not receive an invitation to the big party (to continue our story) because everyone at the party has imbibed the great virtue of humility. To such a one who chooses to be his own teacher, the yoga tradition offers this counsel, “The one who is his own guru has a fool for a disciple”.
In the “too much” mind, the individual engages in a hero-worship relationship with his teacher. Placing his teacher on a pedestal of unattainable accomplishment, he conveniently arranges an excuse not to perform the personal growth work required by the teacher In addition, there is a subtle passive-aggressive dynamic at work whenever someone is placed on a pedestal. Those who place him there also secretly, subconsciously, want to knock him down. I have also seen here in the West that many aspirants have a unhealthy, imaginary “perfect parent” relationship with their guru. It’s much easier, after all, to idolize a fantasy perfect mother or father figure than it is to do the work of healing the wounds that might exist in relationship to one’s all too human and imperfect parents.
The guru is, truly, the greatest of human beings and deserves our love and respect. In our Western culture we honor those with good looks, lots of money, athletic skills, and political power. But the spiritually accomplished man or woman is the real success, the real hero. He is one who has attained the goal of creation. He has arrived at the summit of human attainment. He can serve as our role model and inspiration. His attainment, though, does not somehow magically transfer to us. We must proceed just as he did, performing spiritual disciplines and learning how to serve others.
Because the guru deserves our respect, we should treat him with a certain degree of deference. But, when you look in the guru’s eyes, you can see a beautiful sparkle that says “love is only intimate between lovers.” There is a balance, a yoga, to be found in our relationship to our teachers. We respect them as our spiritual elders, but we also let them lead us into the more intimate chambers of love between equals.
The fact that the guru is a living, breathing human being is also an important point. It is essential at some time in one’s spiritual development to study with a living teacher. This enables one to receive personal instruction and also because a living teacher can help one’s growth in a way that is almost unimaginable. A guru can push psychological buttons that the student doesn’t even know he has. Someone once said, A dead guru can’t kick your butt.î Plus, we can see that the teacher also lives in the world — he eats, sleeps, sweats, farts, and has to contend with Vermont’s mosquitos. A historical guru or saint may be inspirational but he is not of the same practical value to our lives. Babe Ruth can no longer help the Yankees win the pennant and Jesus the carpenter can no longer repair your roof.
Finally, it’s not essential that the guru be fully enlightened. First off, how would you know if he was? You’d have to be fully enlightened yourself to be able to recognize it in another. Secondly, few of us are spiritually mature enough to actually need an enlightened master. Most of us just need someone a little farther along the path, someone who is accessible, someone enough like us that he or she can understand our problems and help us take the next step on our journey. Besides, it doesn’t matter how wise and loving is the guru. The honest question is: how wise and loving is the student?
A true guru doesn’t want to make disciples, he wants to make enlightened, autonomous human beings. He only wants his students to enjoy the spiritual reality that he enjoys, the same one that was freely and joyously passed to him by his teacher. He doesn’t want others worshipping him. How does this help anyone? The guru simply provides the directions and serves as living proof that the party is really taking place.
Martha and The Vandelles sang, It doesn’t matter what you wear, just as long as you are there.î It doesn’t matter what you wear to God’s party. It doesn’t matter what kind of vehicle you drive to get there. It doesn’t matter who gave you directions. Techniques, religions, traditions, lineages… these are all fingers pointing the way. Let go of the attachment to staring at the finger, travel in the direction the finger is pointing. Use your guru’s instructions to help you quiet your mind, open your heart, and learn how to serve others. This will take you where you want to go, to the great cosmic lila, or party. My personal experience is that the guru is the dependable friend who gives me the pat on the back or kick in the pants, whatever I need at the time. He doesn’t want my thanks, my praises, my hallelujahs; he wants me to go to the party and have a great time. So if I want to express my gratitude to him, the only thing I can do is to become more like him, enjoying the party and lovingly serving others. Party On, Guruji!
