The Two Kinds of Oneness: Śrī Caitanya’s Synthesis of Duality and Non-duality
From Tarka Vol. 1: On Bhakti
This article is taken from the Tarka Journal Volume 1 ‘On Bhakti’ (2020).
Conventional wisdom tells us that the paradoxical language of yoga’s ancient spiritual literature signifies Absolute Oneness; that despite any appearance to the contrary, we’re all One.
The speculative metaphysics of Neuroscience suggest that human psychology is just an autonomic meme machine with no one at the controls; that despite any appearance to the contrary, we’re all none.
Western religious traditions claim that an all-powerful, all-knowing, and ever-present God created the world and us along with it; that despite any appearance to the contrary, we’re all loved.
Contemporary seekers looking for a coherent resolution to these conflicting messages need look no further than Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s radical concept of acintya-abheddābeddha-tattva: the truth of inconceivable simultaneous oneness and difference.
At the dawn of the 16th century, the Bengali saint and spiritual activist Śrī Caitanya introduced a profound insight that brings clarity to the paradoxical verses of the Upaniṣads, persuasively refutes the notion of ‘no-self,’ and firmly establishes the philosophical basis for bhakti-yoga as a comprehensive science of self-realization. In this essay I’ll unpack Caitanya’s revolutionary thesis, give his revelation some historical context, and explain its enduring significance for contemporary spiritual seekers.
Many modern yoga practitioners look to bhakti-yoga, the yoga of devotional service, to provide them with a deeper, more meaningful experience of yoga. The elements of a bhakti-yoga practice – mantra meditation, ritualized offerings of flowers, incense, and food, and communal call-and-response chanting set to music – are relatively simple and easy to learn. Yogis who integrate such practices into their daily lives quickly feel their uplifting effects.
What modern practitioners often miss, however, is why bhakti-yoga is so powerful. Unfortunately, mainstream magazines that cater to the spiritually inquisitive obscure the source of bhakti’s power when they describe bhakti-yoga as ‘a path to experiencing the Oneness of being by surrendering to the Divine as one’s inner self.’ Unfortunately, most models of Oneness sold in popular journals gloss over the conspicuous Two-ness of a mundane outer self that has a divine inner self: the premise of Oneness is consistently compromised by the persistence of Two-ness.
This enigmatic Two-ness that pops up whenever we speak about Oneness can easily be explained once we become aware of the fact that there are two kinds of Oneness.
The idea of Absolute Oneness was introduced into the Vedic tradition by Adi Śańkara (788 CE – 820 CE), who established the doctrine of Advaita Vedānta or Absolute Non-dualism, often referred to simply as Vedānta, as a philosophical response to Buddhism’s voidist philosophy and its disavowal of the Vedas as authoritative scripture. Śańkara’s proposition is that ātman, individual consciousness, and Brahman, Universal Consciousness, are ultimately One. The ultimate goal of yoga in Śańkara’s system is to be liberated from the illusion of individual consciousness and merge into the reality of Universal Consciousness.
Many, if not most, modern yoga and meditation practitioners reflexively assume that Śańkara’s absolute non-dualism is the overarching subtext of yoga wisdom texts, often without even realizing that they’re doing so. However, if we think about it for a moment then some reasonable questions come up, such as: “If our individuality is an illusion then why don’t we experience Oneness? If our individuality is real then how are we all One? Does attaining ‘liberation’ mean that I’ll cease to be a person?”
Alternatively, rational analysis might lead one to conclude that the ‘I’ who witnesses the ‘socially-constructed self’ is empty. While the logic of emptiness may usher in the realization that we’re not who we think we are, our hearts may be left feeling… empty: “If there’s no ‘self’ then that means my feelings aren’t real; attaining ‘enlightenment’ means that what I think of as ‘me’ will cease to exist.”
The satisfaction of the heart lies in the fulfillment of relationships. Thus we may wish for a relationship with God. Such a wish may be problematic if our conception of God was formed by an experience of religion that did more to damage our faith than it did to inspire it, in which case we may wonder: “Why should I bother with God at all? If God loves us so much then why our lives are so difficult?”
Although some Western religions stress a relationship with God through his personal representatives, God himself often seems unknowable and hopelessly far away: “How can I have a personal relationship with God if God isn’t a person?” And if our early religious experiences presented us with an angry, judgmental God or involved betrayals of our trust by those who claimed God-given authority, then we might prefer that such a God remain as far away as possible.
It’s easy to understand why anyone would have trouble making sense of Absolute Oneness. Easy as well to see why an enlightenment that invalidates our sense of personal identity would be wholly unmotivating. And the dramatic rise in the number of people who identify as ‘spiritual but not religious’ testifies to a weakness in western religion’s traditional institutions.1
The problem is further exacerbated by intellectual discourse that either assumes non-dualism to be the bedrock of a perennial philosophy or gives credence to post-modern conjecture about the metaphysical implications of neuroscience. Oneness and ‘none-ness’ are the preferred topics for those who find intellectual satisfaction in empirical speculation. In each case, religion is summarily dismissed for all but its symbolic or sociological significance.
The project of ascertaining the truth about spiritual philosophy is so daunting that it sometimes seems easier and more practical to create our own ‘personal truth’ in order to decide on a path that brings meaning and purpose to our lives. In so doing, we make ourselves the ultimate authority on spiritual philosophy. Taking the position that we are our own best teacher deprives us of the benefit that comes from accepting the guidance of teachers whose knowledge and wisdom far exceed our own.
When we read yoga wisdom texts like the Upaniṣads or the Bhagavad-gītā, we find perplexing descriptions of a transcendent Truth hidden within and abiding beyond the mundane plane of material existence.2 Spiritual literature from across the spectrum generally challenges us to decipher a mix of mysticism and parable. Left to our own devices, we may feel more bewildered by the end of our reading than we were when we started and, in frustration, cast such books aside.
This is why svadhyāya, often translated as ‘self-study,’ prescribes scriptural study under the guidance of a qualified teacher. The world’s best athletes have coaches to push them beyond where they can go on their own; why should we think progress on the path of spiritual understanding is any different?
Whatever wisdom texts or teachers we turn to, we’re hoping to find something that will meet the intellect’s demand for a philosophy that makes sense, help us navigate the space beyond our thoughts, and satisfy our yearning for authentic spiritual connections. The science of bhakti-yoga, as presented by Śrī Caitanya, provides us with a sound and complete philosophy that systematically quantifies authentic religious experiences in terms of our potential for engaging in spiritual relationships.
