True religion never changes. Religion is realisation; not talk, nor doctrine, nor theories, however beautiful they may be. It is being and becoming, not hearing or acknowledging; it is the whole soul becoming changed into what it believes. That is religion, says RUBY LILAOWALA.
Upon the same tree there are two birds, one on the top branch and the other on the lower. The one on the top is calm, silent and majestic, immersed in glory; the one on the lower branch, eating sweet and bitter fruits, hopping from branch to branch, is becoming happy and miserable by turns. After a time, the lower bird eats an exceptionally bitter fruit and gets disgusted and looks up to see the other bird, that wondrous one of golden plumage, who eats neither sweet nor bitter fruit, who is neither happy nor miserable, but calm, self-centred and sees nothing beyond his Self.
The lower bird longs for this condition but soon forgets it and again begins to eat the fruit. After a while, he happens to eat another exceptionally bitter fruit, which makes him feel miserable, and he tries to get nearer to the bird on the upper branch. Once more he forgets and after a time he looks up and sees the reflection of light from his plumage playing around his own body and he feels a change and everything about him melts away and at last he understands this wonderful change. The lower bird was as it were, only the substantial-looking shadow, the reflection of the higher; he himself was in essence the upper bird all the time.
The eating of fruits, sweet and bitter, this lower little bird, weeping and happy by turns, was a vain chimera, a dream ; all along, the real bird was there above, calm and silent, glorious and majestic, beyond grief, beyond sorrow. The upper bird is God, the Lord of this universe; and the lower bird is the human soul, eating the sweet and bitter fruits of this world. Now and then comes a heavy blow to the soul. For sometimes he thinks that his life is in vain and his senses drag him down and as before he begins to eat the sweet and bitter fruits of this world.
Gradually, his heart again opens up to the divine light; thus gradually he approaches God , and as he gets nearer and nearer, he finds his own self, he finds his old self melting away. When he has come near enough, he sees that he is no other than God, and he exclaims:
“He whom I have described to you as the life of this universe, as present in the atom, and in suns moons – he is the basis of our own life, the Soul of our soul. Nay, thou art That.”
This is what this Jnana-Yoga teaches. It tells man that he is essentially divine. It shows to mankind the real unity of being, and that each one of us is the Lord Himself, manifested on earth. All of us, from the lowest worm that crawls under our feet to the highest beings to whom we look up with wonder and awe – all are manifestations of the same Lord. Lastly, it is imperative that all these various Yogas should be carried out in practice; mere theories about them will not do any good. First we have to hear or read about them and then have to think about them. We have to reason the thoughts out, impress them on our minds, and also meditate on them, realise them until they become our whole life. No longer will religion remain a bundle of ideas or theories, nor an intellectual assent; it will enter into our very self.
By means of intellectual assent we may today subscribe to many foolish things, and change our minds altogether tomorrow. But true religion never changes. Religion is realisation; not talk, nor doctrine, nor theories, however beautiful they may be. It is being and becoming, not hearing or acknowledging; it is the whole soul becoming changed into what it believes. That is religion.
