Gita key verses course 4 – Dealing with grief on losing a loved one – Gita 02.25

So, welcome back to our Bhagavad Gita course, and today we will be discussing one practical application of the understanding that we are not the body, that we are the soul.
There are multiple aspects to this understanding, and an important aspect here is how it helps us deal with various life events. For example, whenever we go through the fear, trauma, or grief of seeing a loved one die. That was what Arjuna was also going to face.
So, our session will be based on 2.25. I’ll share the PowerPoint here.
How can we heal after the death of loved ones? Do we express or suppress our emotions?
So, we are discussing 2.25 in the Bhagavad Gita:
Avyakto yama cintyoyam avikaryoyam ucyate, asmadevam viditvayinam na nushochitum arhasee.
So, na nushochitum arhasee — “Oh Krishna, oh Arjuna, do not lament.” In fact, this is a recurrent theme in this second chapter. These verses, na nushochitum arhasee, na nushochitum arhasee, repeat the theme: “Do not lament.”
So, what is lamentation and what is grief? Is the Bhagavad Gita telling us that we should suppress our natural emotions? Is it because, say, we have spiritual knowledge? Is it that we are meant to become unfeeling? We will discuss this in today’s session.

Broadly speaking, the Bhagavad Gita must be understood in the context of the Mahabharata. We see in the Mahabharata that when Arjuna lost his son, he actually lost two of his sons. Iravan was the first son he lost, but a much more well-known and dear son, Abhimanyu, was also lost. Iravan didn’t live with Arjuna; he was the son of a Naga princess, and he lived with her as the heir and future king of that kingdom. That had been the arrangement made at the time. But Abhimanyu mostly lived with Krishna and Arjuna, and he was very dear to Arjuna.

On the 13th day when Abhimanyu was killed, Arjuna was devastated. He crumbled, he cried, and he yelled at his brothers, “Why couldn’t you protect him?”
Now, Krishna doesn’t throw these verses at him, saying, “Why are you lamenting?” Krishna does encourage him, and I’ll come back to how he pacifies, consoles, and encourages him. But the first point is that spiritual knowledge doesn’t mean the suppression of human emotions.

Broadly speaking, whenever we have emotions, we often think of two broad options for dealing with them: One is to express them, and the other is to repress them. Now, neither of them is entirely positive. So, the healthy way is to process our emotions. And what the Bhagavad Gita encourages us to do is process our emotions.
So, Arjuna is being told here, “Do not lament,” and yet in both the Mahabharata and the Bhagavatam, there is a description of how the Pandavas grieved after the war ended.

They grieved for all the relatives whom they had lost. Similarly, in the Ramayana, after Dashrath Maharaj passes away, there is a state-wide period of mourning that is ordered. And so, it’s not that they are all told to just neglect or suppress all their emotions. That is not the point.
The point that is made is that you focus on developing your own capacity to process your emotions and respond maturely.
So, what does it mean to process emotions? And how can the Bhagavad Gita’s knowledge help us process emotions? Let’s look at this.

We will talk mainly about how to heal when a loved one passes away. As part of that, I’ll also briefly talk about the wound that death causes, and the fear and pain associated with it.

Broadly speaking, philosophy — the Bhagavad Gita is giving us some philosophy. And the purpose of philosophy is primarily to do two things:

1. To help us make sense of life — what happens in our life, why is this happening, and what is life all about?
2. To guide us to deal with life changes.

So, when something unexpected or disorienting happens, the philosophy is meant to stabilize, anchor, and reorient us. That’s why, normally, we may not feel the need for philosophy in our lives. We just go through our daily routines, fulfilling our various roles and responsibilities. But sometimes, life throws a curveball at us. Sometimes, things start going devastatingly wrong, and that’s when we recognize the need for philosophy.

This is what happened to Arjuna as well. He was faced with a fratricidal war. And what is the point of life if all those people whom I love and venerate — I have to kill them to get a kingdom? Is the kingdom really worth it? So, he wanted to make sense of things, and then the primary question was, “What should I do?”

So, philosophy is meant to make sense of life and help us deal with life changes. When we study the Bhagavad Gita, or any philosophy for that matter, these are the two main objectives: make sense of life and help us deal with life changes.

Now, one aspect of life is that death is an inevitable reality. So, how do we make sense of death? The Bhagavad Gita explains to us that we are souls. As we discussed in the previous session, death is simply the soul moving from one body to another body. It is like leaving one rented house to go into another.

But it is not that simple because, when we are in a particular life, we are emotionally very deeply invested in the people around us, the careers we have built, and the positions we hold. And especially among these, usually, relationships are where we are most deeply emotionally invested. How do we deal with that?

So, we may understand that dying is simply leaving an old set of clothes and wearing a new set. But if we are very attached, even leaving an old piece of clothing can be painful. As far as leaving the body is concerned, we are enormously emotionally invested in it.

I’m using the term emotionally invested in a neutral and non-judgmental way. We could say that we are attached, but I’ll talk about that a little later. For now, we’ll use the term emotionally invested to describe our connection.

If we are emotionally invested in something and then we suddenly lose it, naturally, it is going to hurt us. So, how do we deal with that? That’s going to be the next part.

Broadly speaking, when there is death, how do we make sense of it? There are three main problems associated with death: one with respect to the past, one with respect to the present, and one with respect to the future.

• With respect to the past, there is the loss of everything that is dear to us. All that we have worked for will be taken away. It is very difficult to accept that.
• With respect to the present, we can see the body, especially if the death is sudden — it happens in just a few moments. If it’s a gradual death, still, we see the body, which we often identify with. Either we think of it as I am the body, or at least, this is my body. We see it disintegrating, sometimes in horrible ways. This is horrifying. It’s like if we had a car, and one day we went to our garage and saw that the car was completely wrecked. That itself would shock us. What then to speak of when it is our own body in which we live? If our house was devastated by a storm and was in ruins, that would shock us. What to speak of when we are inside the house and the house is wrecked? That scares us. So, to see our body getting destroyed is a terrifying experience.

So, that’s the present.

And then, the third is the future, as I mentioned here — the fear of the unknown. Oh, what’s going to happen in the future? What am I going to do?

For people who have no understanding of philosophy, one fear is: Will I cease to exist completely? And it’s actually very scary and disconcerting, at the very least. If not alarming, to think of a future in which we have no role to play, no say in things. In fact, we don’t even exist. So, that itself is alarming.

And if we have some understanding that we continue to exist beyond this, then there is the fear, the alarm: What is going to happen to me after that? Where am I going to go? And that is also painful.

Therefore, it’s important for each of us to recognize that these three broadly are the traumas associated with death. Let’s look at how spiritual knowledge helps us to deal with it.

We’ll discuss this in more detail when we practice bhakti yoga and talk about it in depth. But essentially, the whole process of spiritual life is that, while we are growing, we try to increase our attachment not just to the things of this world, but also to the being beyond the world — that is God, Krishna.

If we are devoted to Krishna, then, even though we are still invested in things of this world, while they will be taken away, we will be going toward Krishna. So, the process of bhakti yoga decreases the pain of the wrenching loss of everything dear to us.

The second point is that, when we are going through the destruction of the body, it is to the extent we have realized our identity as different from the body. To that extent, the body’s deterioration and destruction will not traumatize us.

So, death can either be a devastating thing or an inconvenient thing. If we are driving a car and the car breaks down, but the car breaking down is not the same as us getting a fracture. The car tire getting a flat is an inconvenience, which we need to deal with. We may fix the car, or we may hire an Uber or ask someone to give us a lift, and deal with the car later.

Similarly, for spiritually realized souls, the body breaking down is trouble, but it is more like an inconvenience. It is not a devastating misery, because they don’t identify with it. To the extent we grow spiritually, our consciousness is no longer primarily locked in the body. The more we practice bhakti, the more our consciousness becomes unlocked from the body. The more it is unlocked from the body, what happens to the body won’t cause us that much pain.

It’s like, suppose someone is very attached to cricket, and their consciousness is locked in cricket. If their favorite team loses a match, it will be unbearable for them. But if they are not as attached to cricket, then okay, they may not like it, but it’s not the end of the world for them.

That’s how the process of spirituality is meant to unlock our consciousness from the body.

The third fear is the fear of the future. When we understand that we are souls and are developing a relationship with Krishna, we realize that either we will go to Krishna or go closer to Krishna, or we will go to some other situation where we can continue our journey toward Krishna. That understanding can help us deal with the fear.

To make sense of things is more rational. When certain things happen, we need to be able to make sense of them — that’s at a rational level. To actually deal with it, though, the rational level is not enough. There is also the emotional level and the practical level.

So, emotionally, how do we deal with our emotions? And practically, what do we do? We just discussed how, at a practical level, death is going to happen. At a rational level, we understand the soul is eternal. But at an emotional level, how do we deal with the event?

This is with respect to our own death, and this knowledge, if we understand it in an emotionally mature way, can also help us deal with those near death.

Having said that, this is broadly how philosophy can help us make sense of death and deal with it. Now, let’s look at what happens when a loved one dies.

Actually, one of the reasons that inspired my spiritual search almost 25–30 years ago was that when I was in my 10th standard in India, studying, I was one of the toppers in my class. It was a moment of great success for me. The highest officer of the district where I was staying, in Nasik, came to my house to congratulate me. My papers came out, and my photo appeared in the newspapers and other places. So, it was a moment of great celebration for me.

The very day that this district collector came to my house, that very evening, my mother was diagnosed with terminal blood cancer. Although she was a gutsy woman and fought hard, the cancer was very advanced, and everything ended in less than a month — about 27, 28 days.

So, from the height of success, fame, and celebrity, there was a sudden fall. It was very difficult at that time to make sense of things. That’s when I started reading philosophical books, trying to make sense of what life is all about. After some time, it took almost five years for me to come to the Bhagavad Gita.

Although I knew of the Bhagavad Gita, I never thought of reading it to make sense of things. There are many, many other books, both by Eastern and Western authors. But eventually, I came to the Bhagavad Gita.

Then I felt that if I had known what the Bhagavad Gita teaches at that age, it would have been so much easier to process that whole event in a much healthier way.

We go through various ways in which we deal with death: denial, anger, distress, confusion. We experience so many emotions because we just can’t process that someone who is so dear to us, so important for us, suddenly is no longer a part of our life.

This knowledge can equip us to deal with such a situation if it arises in our lives or the lives of our loved ones.

Broadly speaking, let’s look at this now. I apologize, actually, I forgot to share the screen. I’m opening the PowerPoint, but I keep forgetting to share it.

Yes, so I think I’ve discussed what the trauma of death is. Essentially, when the death of someone happens, it is traumatizing. But how do we heal from it?

At one level, we understand that we are not the body. The soul is here, the body is here, the mind is here. So when the soul, body, and mind are there, just as we understand we are not the body, we also understand we are not the mind.

Earlier, I discussed how if the body is damaged, it inconveniences us, and we need to deal with the damage properly, like when our car gets a puncture. We treat the trauma of a sudden life change, such as the demise of a loved one, as an emotional wound.

When we think of physical healing, if someone gets a fracture, broadly speaking, there are two phases. The first is rest. If the hand is fractured, it’s put in a cast and we don’t move it much. Depending on the severity, the rest phase might last for two weeks, three weeks, or six weeks. Initially, some may wonder why they need a cast. They might feel they can continue without it. But if they don’t rest, the fracture will worsen.

Once the body gets used to resting, the healing is in progress. But when the cast comes off, moving the hand again might be painful. Initially, it hurts, but they must start moving it to prevent the limb from atrophying, because lack of use causes deterioration.

Similarly, with grief, there are two phases: first, we need rest. Rest means withdrawal. How does one give oneself emotional rest after trauma?

Different people deal with distress in different ways. Some may say, “Just leave me alone,” and retreat into seclusion. If that is the healthiest way for them to process the grief, they need that space. Other people, perhaps more extroverted, might need their loved ones around them to help them cope.

Whatever is required for a person to rest, they should be allowed to do so. Afterward, they must re-engage.

Re-engagement means that time is the greatest healer, and eventually, we need to move on with our lives. We can’t stop living just because someone is no longer with us. They have departed from this world, but life must continue.

There’s a difference between grieving and lamenting. Lamenting is staying stuck in a stage where emotions are expressed without processing them at all. It’s natural to shed tears and feel the trauma when a loved one passes. But the emotional wound needs healing.

If someone keeps resenting what happened, living in the past — asking, Why did this happen? Why did this person leave me? — this is lamentation. In grief, this is how we deal with the past in the present. We rest, re-engage, and move toward the future. But lamentation locks us in the past.

Lamentation builds a wall between us and the future. It keeps us trapped in the past, unable to process what happened. We live perpetually in misery, often making others miserable too.

This is the kind of lamentation the Bhagavatam warns against. Krishna is not saying we shouldn’t grieve. Proper grieving rituals exist. National mourning periods have their place. But what Krishna says is: Do not linger in lamentation.

As I discussed earlier, lamentation means staying locked in the past, unable to process what has happened, and living in misery as a result. If we understand that this has happened — as much as we might wish it hadn’t — we acknowledge it as a wound that needs healing. So, how do we heal from it?

This will be the remaining part of this talk. Essentially, there are three aspects to this process of grieving after a loved one has passed. There could be more, but these three broad categories are often at the core:

1. What has happened to them?
2. They can no longer love us.
3. We can no longer love them.

These are the three components of grief. So, how can we deal with them?

The first aspect involves philosophical knowledge: What has happened to them? The soul is eternal, indestructible, and wherever they are, they are under the guidance of Krishna.

This might raise the question: Does Krishna’s guidance apply even to those souls who weren’t devoted to Him? Yes, it applies to everyone. Krishna says in Bhagavad Gita 5.29 that He is the well-wisher of all living beings. He doesn’t say He’s only the well-wisher of the devotees. Of course, there’s a special bond with devotees, which we’ll explore later, but Krishna cares for everyone. He resides in the hearts of all beings. Whether a person lived as a devotee or non-devotee, they are still under His care. Krishna has a plan for them, and He will guide them. The understanding that they are eternal souls under Krishna’s protection can offer us relief.

When we don’t know where someone is, it can drive us to anxiety — wondering what’s happening to them, especially when they don’t respond to our calls or messages. But when someone dies, there’s no way to contact them. Still, we can find comfort in knowing they are under Krishna’s care.

The second aspect of grief is that they can no longer love us. Here, we need to understand a more philosophical point: that all love comes from Krishna. Whatever love anyone offers us, it is Krishna who is offering that love through them.

For example, one of the most intimate acts of love is a mother breastfeeding her newborn. She’s nurtured the baby in her body for nine months, and now she’s feeding the child with the nourishment of her own body. This act of affection, protection, and care between a mother and child is deeply intimate. But if we look closely, the mother didn’t create the milk — it was provided by God, the same God who sent the child into the world.

Thus, the love expressed by the mother is, at its core, Krishna’s love being conveyed through her. All love we experience in horizontal relationships — with our parents, siblings, friends, or even in our experiences of knowledge and wealth — is ultimately Krishna’s love for us, expressed through these channels.

This understanding helps us cope with the loss of someone. While we don’t minimize the importance of the person through whom love was expressed, we recognize that ultimately it is Krishna who offers us love through them. When a channel is no longer open, it doesn’t negate the love we’ve received. Instead, we continue to develop our vertical relationship with Krishna because that connection is eternal.

Additionally, life is complex, and while the loss of someone close to us may leave a hole in our hearts, that emptiness may not remain as overwhelming as time passes. As our consciousness expands, the sense of loss may still exist, but we won’t be trapped in the pain of it. Krishna consciousness helps us to deal with the grief and trauma, teaching us to heal and continue moving forward.

Finally, the third aspect of grief is that we can no longer express our love for them. This is painful, but understanding that Krishna is the source of all love can help us navigate this part of the grief process.

I would like to do so much for them, but I haven’t been able to. What can I do?

Again, the same point applies — we have both horizontal and vertical relationships. When we consider the vertical relationship, we realize that we are connected with Krishna, and Krishna is also connected with them. If we engage in devotional activities and dedicate the fruits of those activities for them, that is a way we can do something for them at a spiritual level.

Because we are not physically present with them, we can’t offer comfort or speak emotional words to them. However, through devotional acts, we can still do something meaningful for them, offering it as a dedication to them.

Gradually, by understanding this, we can bring closure — both physical and emotional closure. Without closure, healing cannot begin. It’s like when we get an injury: if there’s a cut, it needs to be stitched. Once stitched, healing can begin. Similarly, we need closure. This is why, in many Dharmic traditions, the body is cremated — to provide a very clear, graphic sense of closure.

In some traditions, the body is buried, but in Dharmic traditions, it’s burnt. This might seem jarring to some, but if we understand that we are not the body, that the soul is eternal and has already departed, burning the body creates a sense of finality. It signals that the body is no longer of use, and the soul can now move on to its next destination.

For us, too, understanding that we are souls — separate from the body — can help us accept the burning of the body as a form of closure. Cremation, from a spiritual and emotional perspective, facilitates this closure, allowing us to move forward with our healing.

So, these are the key points I’ve discussed: while we may have to live with the pain of loss, we don’t have to live in that pain. The hole left in our heart may never be fully filled, but with time, our hearts can grow beyond the hole. This is how we heal from the wounds that life’s losses bring.

To summarize, today we discussed how we heal from the death of a loved one and how Bhagavad Gita philosophy can help us in this process. Essentially, philosophy offers two things: it helps us make sense of life’s events and gives us tools to deal with them.

First, we discussed death and why it’s such a traumatizing change. There are three aspects that make it painful: the past (everything we’ve lived for, which we will lose), the present (witnessing the deterioration of the body), and the future (not knowing where the soul is going). The wisdom of the Gita helps us understand these aspects — yes, we lose the past, but if we grow spiritually, we carry something valuable into the future. Even though we may lose the body, we are not losing Krishna, our eternal companion.

When we understand that we are not the body, the deterioration of the body becomes more of an inconvenience, like a flat tire, rather than a devastation. As for the future, we can find peace knowing that we are always under Krishna’s guidance, moving closer to Him.

Next, we explored how to deal with the trauma of losing a loved one. Simply stating “I’m not the body” is not enough. When something goes wrong with the body, we have to deal with it. Similarly, emotional wounds caused by the loss of a loved one must be addressed maturely. There’s a difference between grieving and lamenting: grieving is a process that leads to healing, while lamenting means staying stuck in the past, unable to move forward, and remaining in misery. Grieving and healing involve two stages — just like when treating a fracture.

We first rest, and then we reengage. Similarly, when it comes to emotional wounds, we need to rest first. This rest may look different for different people. Some may prefer to withdraw and be alone, while others might want to be with only their close loved ones. Each person should do what they feel they need in order to process their emotions, and they should be supported in doing so.

The second phase is reengagement. Even if someone feels they don’t want to reengage in life, it is essential for healing. If a limb is not used after a fracture, it may atrophy, even once the injury is healed. Similarly, emotionally, we can atrophy into loneliness and misery if we don’t eventually reengage with life.

So, how do we navigate these two phases? We understand the trauma of death by reflecting on what has happened. The person who passed is still under Krishna’s guidance. Even though they are no longer physically present to love us, the love they offered was actually Krishna’s love channeled through them. That love continues through Krishna, and if we connect with Him, we can continue to feel that love — not just through Krishna directly, but also through other relationships in the future.

What about not being able to love them anymore? Even though we can’t express our love to them in the physical form, we can still offer devotional acts, dedicating their fruits to Krishna. In this way, we can still do something for them.

Just as cremation provides physical closure, emotional closure is also needed. Losing a loved one is painful, but when we process it through the wisdom of the Gita, we realize that while the pain may remain, we don’t have to live in pain. The emptiness in our hearts may persist, but it won’t feel as consuming. The hole may remain, but our hearts can grow beyond it.

This is how we can navigate the disorienting changes in life, especially the loss of a loved one.

Now, let’s look at a question:

“My father went through a lot of pain before departing. He was always there to help me. I’m finding it difficult as I don’t have anyone who can give me the same support.”

Yes, it’s incredibly difficult to witness someone we care about enduring pain. But we must also try to think from their perspective. The chapter of their life is over now, even if it was painful. Would they want us to keep grieving endlessly, or would they want us to move on with our lives? One important expression of love is through service — doing things that please the person, or at least not doing things that disappoint or hurt them.

From this perspective, the best thing we can do for them now is to continue with our lives, using the lessons they taught us. The sacrifices they made for us helped us grow into who we are today. Moving forward and living a fulfilling life is a way of honoring them. In this sense, parents continue to live through their children.

We need to be resilient. In a future session, I’ll delve more deeply into resilience, but essentially, it comes from accepting what is unchangeable without falling into passivity. If a ball is thrown on the ground, it may hit hard but it will bounce back. In contrast, a glass paperweight will simply break. Our spiritual knowledge is meant to help us be more like the ball, resilient in the face of challenges. Life’s pain, including the pain of losing a loved one, will knock us down, but we can rise up.

Sometimes, the pain of losing someone can feel unbearable because they were our support system. The challenge is that, when they are gone, we may no longer have that support. But emotional maturity means understanding that no one is obligated to fulfill our needs. That doesn’t mean our needs won’t be met; it simply means we have to accept that others aren’t bound to do so. As we mature, we learn to manage our emotional needs independently.

So, if our loved ones have passed, what can we do? First, we can reflect on the valuable lessons they’ve taught us. Writing these down and revisiting them can be a great way to keep their wisdom alive and help us through challenging moments.

One way to connect with Krishna during difficult times is to engage in devotional activities that help us feel His presence. Krishna is our supreme father, and through connecting with Him, we can fill the sense of emptiness or loneliness we may feel. It’s important to keep ourselves engaged—not in an attempt to escape the emptiness, but to prevent it from overwhelming our lives. Gradually, this engagement can help our hearts heal.

Now, how can we offer the fruits of our activities to someone who has departed? It’s essentially a matter of praying to Krishna. While formal rituals are an option, it’s not about technicalities. What truly matters is the sincerity of the offering. You can continue with your regular devotional activities, but perhaps you decide to do something extra. For instance, you might choose to chant extra rounds of japa, read the Bhagavad Gita over the next month, or sponsor a sacred event or feast for devotees.

The key is to dedicate the fruits of these activities to the departed soul. In your heart, offer the activity to Krishna, saying, “I am doing this for them,” and pray for their well-being. While formal rituals can be performed, Krishna, being Bhavagraha Janardana (the one who accepts the intention of the heart), values the sentiment behind the act more than its external form.

If others in our family are grieving and it becomes hard to move on, it’s understandably difficult, but also crucial to address. In such times, it’s important to lead by example, especially if others are struggling to cope. You might not be the eldest or the most prominent member of the family, but you can still show maturity and resilience. It’s not about denying their grief, but rather showing them how to process it and move forward in a healthy way.

Sometimes, if family members remain stuck in a chronic state of grief, it might be necessary to create some emotional distance. If you’re drowning and trying to help someone who is also drowning, you may end up pulling each other down. First, ensure that you are stable, perhaps by taking a step back, and then, if possible, you can extend a hand to help them. However, if they continue to pull you down, you may need to temporarily let go and create some boundaries.

That said, in general, by setting a proper example and offering understanding, you can guide others in their own healing journey.

Regarding the soul’s journey, while we may wonder if we get what we remember at the time of death, it’s important to understand that wherever we go—whichever body, species, or place we enter—Krishna remains with us, guiding us. As Krishna says in Bhagavad Gita (18.61), “I am directing the wanderings of all living beings.” While we may go through different life cycles, Krishna’s guidance is always there, and He ultimately seeks to help us transcend the karmic cycle.

Krishna desires that our journey be an odyssey—a journey towards a glorious destination, ultimately back to Him. This is what He expresses in Bhagavad Gita, verse 18.62, where He says, “Become devoted to Me, surrender to Me, and you will come to Me.” While those who haven’t fully surrendered to Krishna may not immediately draw closer to Him, Krishna still remains with them, guiding them through their journey. Even if they don’t directly approach Krishna, He provides another shelter, helping them transition from one place to another in the spiritual realm.

A common question arises about whether we believe in angels, as in Christianity, where it’s said that when loved ones die, they become angels who watch over us. In comparison, we believe in the concept of rebirth. The afterlife and the journey of the soul are complex, and there are many details in the Vedic teachings, particularly in texts like the Garuda Purana. The 14 planetary systems offer insight, but the exact details of what happens after death, including the duration of any transition phase, are difficult to define with certainty.

In the Ramayana, after the war, when Lord Rama is victorious, Devas come to bless him. Interestingly, King Dashrath also appears to bless Rama. Dashrath, who had been devastated by Kaikeyi’s actions, expresses his pride in Rama. When Rama requests forgiveness for Kaikeyi, Dashrath, initially infuriated, agrees to recant his rejection. This suggests that Dashrath, from his position in the heavenly realms, is still watching over Rama. This concept aligns with the idea of Pitraloka, the realm where ancestors reside.

So, while we don’t fully reject the Christian idea, we see that the Vedic universe is vast, and there may be aspects of it that overlap with some beliefs, such as the idea of individuals playing roles similar to angels, at least temporarily. However, Christianity often doesn’t have a clear understanding of the soul’s nature. They consider the soul to be intricately tied to the body, and thus the resurrection involves the soul and body reuniting. This leads to the belief that bodies should be buried, not cremated. They also imagine heaven as a place of perpetual family reunion, where we will reunite with loved ones.

While this idea is emotionally appealing, it lacks a firm philosophical basis. It raises practical and logical questions. For instance, if someone knew their grandparents at 70 or 80 years old, would they remain eternally in heaven at that age? Would that be a perfect state for them? Would we relate to them as we did before? These questions illustrate some of the inconsistencies in this vision of heaven.

Christianity’s focus has largely been on the morality of life rather than offering a detailed description of the afterlife or God’s nature. Many of the ideas about heaven, angels, and the afterlife that people discuss aren’t directly grounded in biblical teachings but have been drawn from other traditions and theological interpretations. The Bible itself provides stories, lessons, and descriptions of Jesus’ life, but it doesn’t give an extensive account of what happens after death.

In summary, while some aspects of the Christian perspective on angels might hold a kernel of truth, they don’t align fully with Vedic teachings. The afterlife and spiritual guidance come with a deeper understanding in the Vedic tradition, where the journey of the soul is intricate and multifaceted.

So if Krishna has already arranged for what is best for the departing soul, then what is it meant to pray for the departing soul? What should be the mood and content for the prayer?

Well, if we start thinking from that perspective, then why should we need to pray at all for anything, for anyone, even for ourselves, when we’re going through difficulties? We can say Krishna has arranged everything for us. Why do we need to pray?

The point of praying is primarily connecting in the Bhakti tradition. In the Bhakti tradition, the understanding of prayer is significantly different from the understanding of prayer within Karma Kanda. Karma Kanda is basically material religiosity, where we do something for God so that God will do something for us on a material level. So, in some ways, praying is basically like requesting, “Oh God, do this, don’t do this, let this happen, let that not happen.”

But in the Bhakti tradition, if we consider the prayers, there are so many prayers, like say we have Brahma Samhita, we have so many other prayers, and there’s practically no request in the prayers. The prayers are primarily glorifications of the Lord. So in the Bhakti tradition, praying is primarily meant for connecting with God. And sometimes, if something is heavily burdening our heart, we speak that in prayer to God so that the burden in our heart becomes somewhat unburdened, and then we can further connect with God.

So sometimes, say if we are very burdened by something, we talk about that with someone else. Even if that person doesn’t offer any solutions to the problem, just talking with them gives us some relief, and we feel unburdened. The same applies here as well.

Now, there is not a national concern. We will feel that we may intellectually understand that God does everything for everyone’s good ultimately, but still, we have some emotions invested in that. So by praying, that emotional lock can become unlocked, and we can move forward in our life more gracefully. We can move forward without being hindered. So we primarily pray to connect with the Lord, and to also unburden ourselves of the emotions or experiences that are burdening us and preventing us from moving forward in life and from moving forward in our connection with the Lord.

So we’ll stop here. And there are—

Okay, I’ll take one last question. And one thing, if any further questions remain, which you have not answered, somehow on the Zoom chat, the questions get deleted when the class ends. So you could send them on the WhatsApp group, and I will try to answer them separately afterward. We will send you a link for the answers. And even for the previous sessions, if you send some questions that were not answered, I’ll answer them as well.

So what should be our immediate response to someone whose loved one has passed away?

Okay, basically, depending on our relationship, we should be there with a mood of helping them, assisting them. Now, how we can assist them will vary. Sometimes speaking philosophy about the soul can help them. Sometimes just being there to do something for them, showing that even if one important person has passed away, there are others who are there to care, can help. So if we have a service attitude, if we think, “What can I do for this person?” and we pray to Krishna, “Krishna, please give me the guidance on how I can help this person at this time,” then we can even speak the philosophy.

And sometimes the philosophy can give a lot of solace to people, but it should be done in a very, very sensitive and kind way. People shouldn’t feel that we are using the death of their loved one as a forum for stuffing our philosophy down their throats. If we try to start doing that, it will be very alienating. So we sensitively think, “I want to help,” and “How can I help?” One way we can help is by using philosophical wisdom. Another way we can help is by sometimes just being there with them, sometimes offering some healing, some kirtan, or some healing music. Spiritual music can have a calming, healing effect.

So if you maintain a service attitude, Krishna will guide us with the intelligence of how best we can help. So, thank you very much.