Chapter 7: Living the Dhamma
Just to think that somebody has become enlightened is difficult. It is easy to denounce and to say, “No, in the first place enlightenment is impossible - it never happens, it is just an illusion, godliness does not exist. Samadhi? - is nothing but auto-hypnosis. This man is deluded, he has not become enlightened. We know him well, we have known him from his very childhood. How can he suddenly become an enlightened person? He is just like us, pretending. He is a pretender, a deceiver.”
This is our ego choosing the cheaper way. Beware of it. The desire arises in everybody to condemn, to deny. So whenever a person like Buddha is alive we condemn him, and when he dies, we worship in guilt. All worship arises because of guilt. First you denounce a person, knowing well that something has happened, but you can’t accept it. Deep down in your own self you can see that the person is transfigured, he has a luminosity. You cannot really deny it; in your deepest core of being you feel that a ray of light has entered. But consciously, deliberately, you cannot accept it. It will be accepting your failure. Doubt, you certainly doubt deep inside; whatsoever you are doing - your condemnation - you doubt it, but still you go on doubting.
Then one day the person is gone, Then only the fragrance remains, the memory. And when a person dies and you have been not accepting his reality, a guilt arises. You feel, “I have been guilty. I was not good. I missed the opportunity.” Then you start feeling remorse. Now what to do? To balance guilt, you worship.
That’s why dead masters are worshipped. Very rare are the people who worship an alive master. Because when you worship an alive master it is not out of guilt, it is out of understanding. When you worship a dead master it is out of guilt.
For example your father is alive and you have not respected him, you have not loved him. You have been in many ways against him. In many ways you have dishonored him, in many ways you have rejected him. And then one day he dies, and you start crying and weeping. And then every year you will do shraddh. One day every year you will give a feast to friends and brahmins. This is out of guilt. And then you will put a portrait of your father in your house, and you will put flowers.
You never did that when he was alive. You never came with flowers unto his feet. Now he is gone you feel guilty - you have not been good to the old man. You have not done that which was needed to be done. You have not fulfilled your love and your duty. Now the opportunity is gone, the man is no more there to forgive you. The man is no more there so that you can cry and weep and fall into his feet and say, “I have been bad to you, forgive me.” Now you feel, in a certain way, deep guilt. Remorse arises - you put flowers. You respect the memory. You never respected the man - now you respect the memory.
Remember, if you had really loved the man, if you had really respected the man, then there would have been no remorse, then there would have been no guilt. Then you would have been able to remember him with no guilt, and that remembrance has a beauty. That remembrance is totally different, it has a totally different quality. The difference is tremendous. In fact you would have felt fulfilled.