Symbolism in India
by J. Donald Walters (Swami Kriyananda)
(excerpted from the book: The Hindu Way of Awakening)

One of the purposes of the present book is to explain the basis for some of those symbols, and to show that the heart of all that complexity beats with simple, universal, and profound meaning.

India has managed, during its very long history, to adjust to countless turns of time's wheel, from centuries of relative enlightenment to others of widespread spiritual ignorance. Literacy itself, in times of relative enlightenment, was less highly prized than it is today. The symbolism implied by the written and spoken word—words too, after all, are only symbols for the ideas they express—was considered more of an obstruction than an aid to communication. Spiritual teachers enlightened their students by transferring their experience of the truth directly. They relied much less on intellectual discussion than teachers do nowadays. Their very style of writing reveals a preference for short, pithy maxims over long-winded discourses.

Even in modern times, a few enlightened masters observe the spiritual practice of maun, or perpetual silence . . . They value silence as the secret to divine communion. Even in their teaching they distrust the medium of words, considering it an indirect and unreliable way of expressing truth, since truth cannot really be understood except by direct experience.

Needless to say, the disciples of such gurus must be spiritually advanced also, else they would be unable to tune in to the master's wisdom-emanations.

Paramhansa Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi contains a significant passage about his paramguru, or guru's guru, Lahiri Mahasaya. Swami Sri Yukteswar, Lahiri's disciple, told Yogananda, "Even when Lahiri Mahasaya was silent, or when he conversed on other than religious topics, I discovered that he had transmitted to me ineffable knowledge."

In another passage, Lahiri Mahasaya is quoted directly: "‘Please expound the holy stanzas as the meaning occurs to you.' The . . . guru often gave this instruction to a nearby disciple. ‘I will guide your thoughts, that the right interpretation be uttered.' In this way many of Lahiri Mahasaya's perceptions came to be recorded, with voluminous commentaries, by various students."

In ancient times in India, wisdom was normally conveyed by thought-transference. Later, it was committed to memory but not written down, for the record could be preserved more faithfully by the mind than by the written word and subsequent editorial distortion. Only much later, as people's memory became fallible during the general decline of spiritual awareness, was it necessary to begin committing those teachings to books.

The modern mind considers the ability to read and write one of the chief blessings of civilization. This naive conviction is due to the fact that modern man has lost contact with higher consciousness. Granted, literacy is a step upward for those who, doomed to a life of plodding manual labor, live by their instinctual urges like the lower animals. To judge all history by present-day standards, however, is a mark of our own ignorance. There have been ages, in fact, when people generally lived by intuitive wisdom, and not in primitive ignorance as is presently believed. . . .

Students of ancient history have frequently remarked on the apparently anomalous fact that prehistoric art often shows a steady decline in sophistication from earlier, more spiritual levels of sensitivity.

With civilization's decline, the wise teachers of olden times realized that divine wisdom was being threatened with oblivion. Who, living in later times, would understand as egoless such inspiring statements as: "Aham Brahm asmi (I am Brahma)," "Tat tuam asi (Thou art that)," "Aham sa (I am He)"? The unenlightened mind hasn't the capacity to perceive these statements as proceeding from the ultimate refinement of consciousness.

Thus, the lofty teachings of the Vedas and Upanishads had to be clothed in symbolism, and presented in allegories. The purpose of concealing them was in part to protect the truth from profanation, and in part also to ensure their endurance during centuries of spiritual darkness. The hope was to suggest to deep truth seekers, at least, that there are levels of truth beyond any of those suggested by orthodox religion . . . .

It has long been recognized that India's myths of gods and goddesses are closely related to those of ancient Greece, Rome, and the Nordic and Germanic peoples. So similar are they, indeed, that even the days of the week, both in India and in the West, continue to be named after the same deities, who represented the same planets: Sun for Sunday, Moon for Monday, Mars for Tuesday, Mercury for Wednesday (Woden's day in Norse legend), Jupiter for Thursday (Thor's day in Scandinavia; Brihaspati, or Jupiter's, day in India), Venus for Friday, and Saturn for Saturday.

I was being given a guided tour of the Parthenon in Athens several years ago when my guide challenged me: "I'll bet you don't know where the ancient Greek legends came from."

"From India," I replied.