How Long Will Krishna Keep Punishing Me?

This question was the first thing a young European woman had asked me during my conversation with her husband and her. During one of my visits to London, after a talk I had given on karma, I met a European couple in their early thirties. The husband was tall, black-haired, and bespectacled; his wife, also tall though slightly shorter than him, was blonde. Both looked troubled. We moved from the main hall to a smaller room nearby, where the three of us sat down on chairs. “My wife has had three miscarriages recently,” the husband said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I turned toward her. “Is your health okay now?” She nodded slightly. “While trying to make sense of what was happening,” her husband continued, “she heard an online talk by a religious speaker. He was speaking strongly against abortion. He said that if you kill a child Krishna has sent you, Krishna will never give you another child.” I winced on hearing this. He hesitated and exchanged a glance with his wife. She nodded slightly again, and he continued. “Before our marriage, and before she knew anything about bhakti, she had an abortion.” His wife spoke up for the first time. “I have already lost three babies,” she said. “How long will Krishna keep punishing me for something I did when I didn’t know any better?” “I don’t think you need to see a direct connection between the abortion and the miscarriages,” I said, “and certainly you don’t need to conclude that what is happening to you is Krishna’s punishment.” Take Statements About Karma Seriously, but Not Always Literally I paused before continuing. “Sometimes scriptures do describe in graphic terms how actions may bring corresponding reactions. For example, there are descriptions that those who slaughter and eat animals may themselves eventually be slaughtered and consumed. Such statements need to be taken seriously, but they need not always be taken literally.” The husband asked, “Why not literally?” “For three reasons,” I replied. “First, Krishna himself says in the Bhagavad Gita that the workings of karma are difficult to understand: gahanā karmaṇo gatiḥ (4.17). If karmic reactions always worked in a simple, linear, one-to-one way, as a literal reading of such descriptions might suggest, why would Krishna say that their workings are so difficult to understand? “Second, such descriptions generally don’t tell us anything about quantity, which surely matters when determining accountability. Suppose someone ate cow flesh once in their life. Someone else ate it regularly for a few years before giving it up. And someone else ate it practically every day throughout their life. Are we to assume that all three will receive exactly the same reaction? Certainly not. “Third, Bhaktivinoda Thakura explains that we should focus on the essential principle conveyed through such descriptions rather than becoming preoccupied with their graphic details. The essential principle is that we are accountable for our actions. Our choices have consequences, and therefore we need to choose carefully. That’s why we need to take the principle of karma seriously, even if we don’t take every specific description of karmic punishment literally.” The woman asked in a voice with a slight tremor, “Are you saying that I shouldn’t take that speaker’s statement about abortion literally?” I nodded my head emphatically. “Yes, that’s precisely what I am saying.” Pausing, I continued. “I am not downplaying the gravity of abortion as an act. I am questioning the validity of that statement. Let’s consider it logically.” They both leaned forward slightly as I continued. “Tragically, abortion is not uncommon in today’s world. If the statement you heard were literally true, it would mean that anyone who had ever had an abortion would thereafter never be able to have a child. But is it true that everyone who has a child has never had an abortion earlier in life? That seems highly unlikely. So even at the level of what we can observe, there is no basis for making such a categorical connection.” As the point sank in, I could see some of the tension in their faces easing. “And more importantly, I haven’t come across any categorical statement in scripture saying that if someone has an abortion, Krishna will never give that person a child. I would presume that the speaker, even if well-intentioned, was extrapolating from similar-sounding scriptural statements about karmic consequences. “But if even the graphic statements actually found in scripture need not always be interpreted literally, then you certainly don’t need to take an extrapolation from those statements literally.” What Remembering Krishna Does Not Mean I continued, “There is another principle that I have found helpful when trying to understand why something has happened. Krishna has created a world in which things happen through many levels of causes. So when something goes wrong, rather than immediately jumping to an invisible or ultimate cause, we should first investigate the immediate causes that we can understand and act on.” The husband asked, “Can you explain that with an example?” I nodded. “Sure. Suppose, while sitting in this room, I suddenly start feeling very cold. Should I start thinking, ‘Krishna is punishing me because I was not attentive enough in my morning prayers to Him?’” They shook their heads. “That wouldn’t just be speculative; that would be destructively speculative,” I continued emphatically. “Rather than jumping to the level of an ultimate cause, it is far more logical for me to first look for some immediate cause. Is a window open? Has the heating stopped working? If the window is open, I can close it. If the heating isn’t working, I can try to get it fixed. “This is also a principle in the Vedic system of logic known as Nyāya. When we are trying to make sense of something, we should first look for causes in our immediate environment, which may be called dṛśya-kāraṇa, before looking for further, less visible causes, which may be called adṛṣṭa-kāraṇa. “And looking for such practical causes doesn’t mean that I forget Krishna. I need to remember Krishna, but remembering Krishna shouldn’t stop me from looking for practical causes and practical solutions. That’s the spirit of Krishna’s guideline in the Bhagavad Gita (8.7): mām anusmara yudhya ca—remember Me and fight.” I paused to think of an example that could illustrate the point further. “Srila Prabhupada once illustrated this principle very practically. During a Ratha-yatra in London, the devotees had constructed an enormously tall cart, but its supporting structure was apparently not strong enough for its height. When the cart collapsed, the devotees were devastated. Some wondered whether Krishna was displeased with them or whether there had been some deficiency in their devotion. “Prabhupada’s response was strikingly practical. He said in essence: the cart collapsed not because of your poor devotion, but because of your poor engineering.” A slight smile appeared on both their faces. “But I would like to make one more critical point beyond understanding how causes work,” I said. “That point is about understanding how Krishna Himself works. “The kind of statements you heard about Krishna punishing someone often create an image of a God who is above us, watching what we are doing critically and sending suffering down upon us as punishment. But Krishna is not such a God. While He exists far above us in the spiritual world, He also exists with us and within us as the Paramatma. The Bhagavad Gita (18.61) declares that He guides our wanderings in this world from within our hearts. “So when we are going through something painful, Krishna is not pushing us into that suffering. Krishna is the one who is helping us push through that suffering. After all, Krishna is not vengeful; He is merciful.” I could see a glimmer of hope appearing on their faces. “First, we need to have this positive understanding of Krishna as a loving God. And second, we need to make our experience of Krishna positive. Remembering Krishna should never fill us with guilt; it should fill us with strength.” Then I asked both of them, “Is there some devotional activity that brings both of you peace and joy—something through which you actually feel closer to Krishna?” The husband replied, “Both of us love music. We like singing about Krishna, and sometimes we compose songs about Him too.” “That is excellent,” I said. “Then nourish that part of your relationship with Krishna. Sing about Him together. Compose songs about Him. Let your remembrance of Krishna become a source of peace and strength rather than guilt and fear.” I continued, “That is how you can apply the spiritual part of mām anusmara yudhya ca. Coming to the practical part, have you investigated medically why the miscarriages might be happening?” “Yes,” the husband replied. “The doctors found that she has a deficiency. They have prescribed medication for it. In fact, with each pregnancy, she has been able to carry the baby for progressively longer before the miscarriage occurred.” “That is encouraging,” I said. “So at the practical level, continue taking the medication and following your doctor’s advice. And remember that Krishna is with you and for you. Don’t think of Him in a way that decreases your strength to face whatever comes in life; remember Him in a way that increases your strength.” I concluded, “I pray that Krishna showers His blessings upon both of you and that you may also feel His blessings.” About a year later, the husband sent me a message. He told me that they had moved back to Europe and asked whether we could talk on a video call, as I don’t generally visit Europe. When we spoke, I was delighted to see that they were carrying a two-month-old baby. “The pregnancy went peacefully,” the husband told me, “and the delivery was natural too, without prolonged labor.” I congratulated them. Then I asked, “How is your singing about Krishna going?” Their faces lit up. “We feel as if we have discovered two new joys in our life,” they said. “One is the joy of having a baby, and the second is the joy of singing about Krishna. And now we are combining both those joys by singing about Krishna to our baby.” As I reflected on my interactions with them, something crystallized within me that had previously been vague. I felt that I needed to help people evolve in their conception of Krishna. Conventional religion often teaches people to see God primarily as the judge of our life’s actions. That can lead us to see negative events as His punishments and positive events as His rewards. The Gita, however, offers a more intimate conception of God—not so much as the judge of our life’s actions, but more as our companion in our life’s journey. When the Gita urges us to remember Krishna constantly, that does not mean that we need to see Him as the reason for everything that happens to us. Rather, we can see Him as our refuge amid everything that happens to us. Contemplating thus, I offered a prayer. My dear Lord, whenever I speak about You, let my words help others see You more fully—not as the inflictor of life’s pains, but as the shelter amid life’s pains. *** 18.61 The Supreme Lord is situated in everyone’s heart, O Arjuna, and is directing the wanderings of all living entities, who are seated as on a machine, made of the material energy. The post How Long Will Krishna Keep Punishing Me? first appeared on Chaitanya Charan Das, Bhagavad Gita ISKCON .