Year 1898. Place: Kshir-Bhavani Temple in Kashmir. Swami Vivekananda stands pondering over the ruins of the temple and the desecration wrought by the Muslim invaders. Distressed at heart, he thinks: “How could the people have permitted such sacrilege without offering strenuous resistance? If I were here then, I would never have allowed such things. I would have laid down my life to protect the Mother.” No sooner this thought strikes him than he hears a voice deep inside his heart—the voice of the Divine Mother:

“What even if unbelievers should enter my temples and defile my images! What is that to you? Do you protect me? Or do I protect you?”

In the same shrine, on another day, the Mother speaks to him again. When Swamiji thinks of building a new temple to the Mother on the same spot where the dilapidated temple stands, the Mother’s voice comes to him:

“My child! If I wish I can have innumerable temples and magnificent monastic centers. I can even this moment raise a seven-storied golden temple on this very spot.”

The scales are removed from Swamiji’s eyes. “No more ‘Hari Om!’ It is all ‘Mother’ now!” he later says. “All my patriotism is gone. Everything is gone. Now it is only ‘Mother! Mother!’ … I am only a little child!”

Back in Kolkata, he tells a disciple, “Since hearing that divine voice, I cherish no more plans. The idea of building monasteries etc., I have given up. As Mother wills, so it will be.” This sets the disciple thinking of earlier occasions when he had heard Swamiji say that whatever one sees or hears is but the echo of what’s going on within. He asks, “Swamiji, but you used to say that divine voices are the echo of our inward thoughts and feelings.” Swamiji’s grave reply:

“Whether it be internal or external, if you actually hear with your ears such a disembodied voice, as I have done, can you deny it and call it false? Divine Voices are actually heard, just as you and I are talking.”

On another occasion we find Swamiji saying, “These gods are not merely symbols! They are the forms that devotees have seen!” (The Master as I Saw Him, 166)

How perplexing these statements appear when we compare them with Swamiji’s lectures on Advaita Vedanta, where he ruthlessly demolishes all clinging to names and forms, and affirms the supreme reality, Brahman, who is beyond all names, beyond all forms, the absolute, the One without-a-second (ekam eva advitīyam)! Where and how does the Divine Mother fit into the Vedantic scheme?

Swamiji himself had at one time difficulty accepting the Divine Mother. Then came the great event of which we know almost nothing—Sri Ramakrishna “dedicated” him to Mother.

“How I used to hate Kali! [Swamiji said] And all her ways! That was the ground of my six years’ fight ─ that I would not accept her. But I had to accept her at last! Ramakrishna Paramahamsa dedicated me to her, and now I believe that she guides me in every little thing I do, and does with me what she will … Yet I fought so long!...

“No, the thing that made me do it is a secret that will die with me. I had great misfortunes at that time … It was an opportunity … She made a slave of me. Those were the very words—‘a slave of you.’ And Ramakrishna Paramahamsa made me over to her…” (CW 8. 263)

After Mother took charge of Swamiji’s life, it was she who did everything for him, he was only her little child, utterly dependent on her. And she never deserted him even for a moment. Wherever he turned, he once said, he was conscious of the presence of Mother, as if she were a person in the room (The Master as I Saw Him, 124). How were Brahman and the Divine Mother reconciled in Swamiji’s mind? The answer is not very clear. Perhaps the two can never be reconciled through mere intellect. Swamiji once referred to this paradoxical situation as “unity in complexity.” This is what he said:

“You see, I cannot but believe that there is somewhere a great Power that thinks of herself as feminine, and called Kali, and Mother … And I believe in Brahman too … But is it not always like that? Is it not the multitude of cells in the body that make up the personality, the many brain-centers, not the one, that produce consciousness [of the objective world]? … Unity in complexity! Just so! And why should it be different with Brahman? It is Brahman. It is that One. And yet─and yet─it is the gods too!” (CW 8. 264)

Now, these are not very philosophical statements. But philosophy is guided by logic to help us understand and sometimes it may not represent the reality of things. In his talks at the Thousand Island Park, in upstate New York, Swamiji returns again and again to this theme: philosophy vs religion. “Religion begins,” he says, “where philosophy ends” (CW 7. 44). After all, philosophy can take me only as far as my intellect can go. Spiritual life really begins when I transcend the barriers of my mind and intellect. Religion is not merely an acceptance of, or faith in, a certain philosophy, or in dogmas and rituals, but the actual experience (anubhūti) of God. “Religion consists solely in realization” (CW 7. 96).

No amount of reason can disprove a genuine experience, and Swamiji’s encounter with the Divine Mother was an undeniable experience for him. Swamiji’s “Mother” can never be understood independently of Sri Ramakrishna’s “Mother.” “He who is Brahman is verily Śakti, the Divine Mother herself!”─this key is the pivot round which Sri Ramakrishna’s teachings (as recorded in the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna) revolve. His concept of the Divine Mother has special relevance to our times.

God as Mother

What does the Divine Mother mean to you and me? Certain things become obvious at once. First, the relationship with God as Mother has certain distinct advantages over other types of relationships. In devotional texts, several such spiritual approaches or relationships (bhāvas) are mentioned─śānta (a tranquil relationship), dāsya (being God’s servant), sakhya (being God’s friend), vātsalya (being God’s mother), and madhura (being God’s lover). We learn about the benefits of cultivating a close relationship with God, and are advised to direct our lives and actions, our thoughts and words, in a manner appropriate to the relationship.

Every one of these forms has specific characteristics. Countless devotees have attained perfection through the practice of one or the other of these bhāvas, aided no doubt by God’s grace in overcoming certain inhibiting features present in them. We find in these bhāvas either an unbridgeable gap between God and the devotee, or too much of intimacy which shuts off the “savior” aspect of the Divine we need in times of distress and calamity. Both these factors are taken care of when the devotee looks up to God as Mother. There is no gap to be bridged between a baby and her mother, and there is no one the baby turns to for protection more than her mother.

The cultivation of relationship with God as Mother (mātṛ-bhāva) is not a new phenomenon. The roots of Mother-worship are traced back to prehistoric times. Sri Ramakrishna revived this ancient ideal in a big way through his teachings and more through his life. Evidently, God as Mother has a special relevance in the times we live in. Strictly speaking, the spiritual attitude of a child should be called santāna-bhāva. This would be valid irrespective of whether God is looked upon as the Father or the Mother. The use of the term mātŗ-bhāva precludes this ambiguity, and should be understood to mean “the spiritual relationship of a child towards God as Mother.” Sri Ramakrishna is known to have used both the terms— mātŗ-bhāva and santāna-bhāva—with reference to his own practice.

Why is the maternal aspect of God superior to the other aspects of divinity? The answer is that the Divine Mother meets all of our requirements. As mother she is very close to us, her children, but her closeness does not stand in the way of her being our guide and savior. As mother she loves us as none else can, and yet her love for us does not stand in the way of her punishing us for our good when necessary. As mother she is most intimate with us, and yet her intimacy does not stand in the way of her keeping aloof from all our frivolities.

As her children we feel free to protest and argue with her, our Mother, knowing full well that she would understand. Our outbursts at the workplace or at home may not always be understood, but the Mother always understands. Others may neglect us, betray us, desert us, revile us—but the Mother, never! She puts up with all the weaknesses, all the silliness, all the faults of her children. No matter how many times we fall down, she is there to pick us up and hold us. In some ways, a child always remains a part of her or his mother, even after birth. Some invisible bond binds the two throughout their lives. What more can devotees ask for than the knowledge that they are eternally connected to the Divine Mother, that they are an inseparable part of her?

The greatest manifestation of love, the purest and the most selfless love we can conceive of, is the mother’s love for her child. What wonder then that we look upon God as our own Mother? That seems to be only a natural way we can reach out to the Supreme Being who gives us birth, nourishes us, and to whom we ultimately return. God as Mother scores a march over all other aspects in a most natural way.

Devotee as a Child

Looking upon God as Mother obviously implies looking upon oneself as her child. I cannot say God is my Mother without feeling that I am her child. Although we are all─every one of us, with no exceptions—her children, it must be admitted that to be always conscious of the fact that we are her children is not easy. It is difficult because we have consciously or unconsciously put on several masks over ourselves. Worse still, we have forgotten that these are only masks. We take them to be our true selves, while the real self─the Mother’s child─remains hidden inside, unknown, uncared for.

The important point to note is that I don’t have to become a Mother’s child, I am already her child. What I must do is just remove the false masks covering my true personality. When all the masks fall away, the Mother’s child is revealed. If anyone tries to become a Mother’s child, they usually end up adding one more mask over their already multi-masked personality. A child-mask cannot give me the feeling that I am a child, although I may perhaps succeed for a time in making others believe that I am.

Even I may be led to believe that. Such self-deceptions do occur. How pathetic a sight it is to see aging men and women trying to hide their age with makeup, dress and lifestyle! They may refuse to accept for a time the fact that they are no longer young and continue to prance around as youths. But sooner or later they are forced to accept the reality. A masked face is just like that. A child-mask cannot endure eternally. It is a mask, after all. Sometime or the other it must fall. When it does, it reveals the other masks beneath. Usually people keep shuffling their masks to suit different occasions and situations. (In a weird sort of way, this is what we are doing at present with the physical masks forced upon us by the pandemic.)

To be a Mother’s child is not to put on the mask of a child, but to remove all the masks and let the child within breathe freely. Childhood is a stage of life everyone passes through. Physically everyone outgrows that stage after a time. That is unavoidable. The tragedy is that we also outgrow the innocence, faith and purity of childhood. To be a child of the Divine Mother is to recover that innocence, faith and purity. Here, again, it is to be remembered that these are not qualities to be acquired. Vedanta says that we don’t have to become innocent, we are that already. We don’t have to acquire faith, we already have that within us. We don’t have to become pure, we are pure already. Certain obstacles are blocking the way and preventing these inherent qualities, which are our true nature, from manifesting themselves. Our task is only to remove the obstacles, and our true nature─pure, blissful, eternal─will shine forth by itself.

This is the refrain in one of Śri Śaṅkara’s hymns to the Divine Mother (Devyaparādha-kṣamāpaṇa-stotra):

कुपुत्रो जायेत क्वचिदपि कुमाता न भवति ।

Kuputro jāyeta kvacid api kumātā na bhavati.

“There may be a bad child, but never has there been a bad mother.”

Very true, no doubt. But this should not be interpreted to mean that we can live as we please, but the Divine Mother, ever-good as she is, will nonetheless free the “bad child” from all bondages and bestow on us the supreme bliss of spiritual freedom. No, she won’t do that. She will very likely wait until the “bad child” turns over a new leaf and struggles to overcome the old tendencies. She will, of course, help us in our struggles, but we must struggle. There is no escaping that. Sri Ramakrishna describes this phenomenon when Keshab Sen asks him, “Why do I not see God?” Sri Ramakrishna reply:

“You do not see God because you busy yourself with such things as name and fame and scholarship. The mother does not come to the child as long as it sucks its toy─a red toy. But when, after a few minutes, it throws the toy away and cries, then the Mother takes down the rice-pot from the hearth and comes running to the child.

“[To a devotee] You are engaged in arbitration. ‘The Divine Mother says to herself: “My child over there is now busy arbitrating and is very happy. Let him be.” (Gospel, p. 614)

Unless we throw away the toys of this world and weep for the Divine Mother, she will not come. This is the plain truth. Let us have no illusion about this.

The Mother-Power Has Been ‘Awakened’

Time is propitious once again. Swami Vivekananda once said, “In this age the Brahma-kuṇḍalinī─the Mother who is responsible for the creation, preservation and destruction of the universe─has been awakened by the fervent prayers of Sri Ramakrishna.” Commenting on this statement, Mahapurush Maharaj (Swami Shivananda) said:

“No wonder the individual kuṇḍalinī will be awakened now! That is why we see symptoms of a great spiritual upsurge everywhere. The Mother, the Primal Energy, is sporting for the good of the world using the body of Sri Ramakrishna. We need have no worry this time.”

Obviously, Sri Ramakrishna’s “awakening” of the Mother-power has made our task easy. Struggle we still have to, but our struggles in spiritual life will bear fruit more quickly as a result of Sri Ramakrishna’s advent.

We are in the midst of the Mother season. Last month we celebrated the worship of Durgā and Lakṣmī, last night was Kālī Pujā, and very soon there will be the worship of Jagaddhātrī, followed a few weeks later by the worship of Holy Mother Sarada Devi. Let us use these auspicious occasions to remind ourselves of our eternal relationship with God as Mother. Let us pray intensely and let us weep that we have not yet been blessed with Mother’s vision.

Which mother can keep away for long when her child begins to cry? We cry for so many things. Why not learn to cry for the Divine Mother? Let every one of us be a child whose cry cannot be silenced by any worldly toy, for it is only to such a child that the Mother comes.