HERESIOLOGY VS. BHAKTI, Part One

A Reflection Inspired by BT Songs 1743 and 1744

Introduction

In many religious traditions—particularly within Christianity and Islam—the idea of heresy plays a defining role. Boundaries of belief are clearly drawn, protected, and sometimes even policed. Entire traditions of heresiology developed precisely to identify, condemn, and exclude ideas that fall outside acceptable doctrine.

By contrast, Hinduism has no such tradition of policing belief. No central authority decides what counts as “orthodoxy” or what should be rejected as “heresy.” Instead, Hinduism embraces multiple viewpoints, paradoxical ideas, and diverse spiritual experiences. This openness gives the Hindu bhakta a unique freedom—not only to interpret the divine but also to experience the divine in deeply personal ways.

This article reflects on my own experiences as a bhakta, especially as expressed in BT Songs 1743 and 1744 (see the full texts separately in the blog). Some Christians might call portions of these songs “heretical,” yet within the Hindu tradition such expressions are perfectly natural. This essay explores why.

1. Why Heresy Has No Home in Bhakti

For a bhakta like me, the absence of doctrinal policing is not an academic matter; it is a lived blessing. Whatever others may label as “heresy,” Hinduism gives space to articulate my inner experience—what I call my own bhaktiology.

In Christian theology, many of the ideas expressed in my songs would be rejected outright because they do not align with the Muktiveda’s understanding of God. For example, in BT Song 1743 I wrote:

“Why should I run
to ‘reach’ the One
I have already reached within?”

The closest parallel in the New Testament might be Paul’s statement,
“In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).
But even this does not actually endorse my view, because Paul is quoting pagan poets—Epimenides for the first line and Aratus (or possibly Cleanthes) for the phrase “For we are his offspring.” The contexts are completely different, and Paul uses these quotations only rhetorically to lead his Greek audience toward the biblical God.

Moreover, in the larger passage Paul is speaking about the hope of eternal life through Christ after death, not about an immanent experience of God within this life, which my songs explore. His emphasis is on resurrection and future judgment rather than on an inner realization of divine presence here and now.

A Hindu bhakta may see this as expressing an intimate oneness—not only in fellowship but even in essence. But biblical theology does not allow such an interpretation. Thus, what is devotional experience for a Hindu becomes “heresy” for many Christians.

2. A “Heretical” Thought: God Understanding Himself Through Me

A theme that emerges vividly in BT Song 1744 is this startling intuition:

“As a thought You entered me—
to know Yourself through my mind.”

And again:

“You, who need no knowing at all,
became the Knower after creating me.”

Here I am suggesting something that neither Christian theology nor classical Hindu philosophy would accept: that after creating me, God entered a new relational role, and within that relationship He “understands Himself” in a fresh way—a way He did not need before creation. This implies a kind of divine becoming, a mutual revelation between God and the bhakta that unfolds only within relationship.

This idea does not fit Advaita Vedānta either.

In Advaita, Ātman is Brahman—complete, indivisible, without a second.
There is no need for Brahman to “know” Himself through the jīva.
The personal Lord (Īśvara) belongs to the realm of māyā, while Brahman remains the impersonal, self-sufficient Sat–Cit–Ānanda, untouched by any relational becoming. And in this framework, it is the jīva that must realize that it is nothing but Brahman—not Brahman realizing anything through the jīva.

Other Vedānta schools differ in how they interpret the soul’s relationship to Brahman, but none would claim that God gains self-realization through the devotee, since God is completely svatantra (independent), whereas the jīva is paratantra (dependent upon God).

Within Islam, too, any suggestion that God becomes something new through the human soul would be outside mainstream theology.

Mystics like al-Hallāj and Sarmad Kashani were persecuted for their expressions of oneness, showing how sensitive such ideas are within that tradition. But I am not sure—since I have never read the Qur’an fully nor studied the Sufi tradition in depth, though I have read much of Rumi and a few other Sufi poets—that any Sufi master ever claimed that God requires the devotee’s help for His own self-understanding after creation.

Yet this thought did not arise from study, analysis, or speculation.
It arose in silence—when I sit quietly in the ashram, absorbed in the surrounding stillness.

A word, a phrase, a line in Tamil suddenly echoes in my mind.
Even when I resist writing it down, it persists the whole day until I finally yield and put the first line on paper.

Once I begin, the rest flows naturally until the song ends.

This is not “experience” (anubhav) in the ordinary sense, but anubhūti—a subtle, inner realization that arrives uninvited.

From the standpoint of biblical theology, God is eternally complete, free [svatantra] and does not “gain” anything through creation. But in the bhakti world, such a thought is not threatening. Bhakti is full of bold, intimate expressions where God and devotee meet in unexpected ways.

I have often heard among bhaktas—especially during Himalayan yātras—statements like:

“Bhaktom binā Bhagavān bhī nahīm̃—without devotees, even God does not exist.”

This is not a metaphysical claim about God’s absolute nature, but a relational truth within devotion: that God reveals Himself through loving hearts, and love completes what logic cannot comprehend. Traditions like Pushti Mārga and literary works such as the Gīta Govinda portray God yearning for the devotee, missing their presence, seeking their love. In several of my own viraha-bhāva (love-in-separation) songs, I have also expressed similar sentiments—of a God who longs, waits, and hungers for the devotee’s nearness.

In such a landscape, my thought is not meant as a philosophical doctrine but as an expression of anubhūti, arising within the living stream of bhakti. A single stanza taken in isolation might appear heretical; within the full song, it stands naturally as part of this intimate devotional current.It is one attempt—my attempt—to articulate how God feels alive within my inner silence.

3. Does God Need the Bhakta?

A Thought Christians Reject but Hindus Accept

One idea I often speak about—completely unacceptable to most Christians—is that even God needs the bhakta to exist in His relational role. In my discussions with a few Christians, whenever I raised questions such as:

“Why did God create the cosmos and then the human being? What was the need for Him to do that?” the conversation usually became uncomfortable. These questions expose a theological gap that doctrinal systems struggle to address. Since space will not permit a full exploration here, I will take this up separately in Part Two of this article: SCHOLARLY CRITIQUE & RESPONSE.

This is not shocking in Hinduism. The Pushti Marga of Vallabha Sampradaya affirms precisely this mutuality. As Donna Marie Wulff notes:

“…love requires two, because sweetness needs ‘another’ to taste it.”¹

Bhakti is not a path of doctrine but of rasa—the taste of divine sweetness. Shrivatsa Goswami beautifully describes it:

“Bhakti comprehends the whole of human nature…
ultimate reality is sat-cit-ananda—
but of these three, the accent lies upon ananda.”²

In other words, relationship—not metaphysics—is the heart of bhakti.

John B. Carman comments on this relational reversal where the divine bows to the devotee:

“Without the dramatic expression of reversal in God’s love play…
the full reality of devotion would not be expressed.
This is indeed ‘amazing grace.’”³

Such a vision is impossible within strict Christian theology, but natural within the world of bhakti.

4. Why Intellectual Religions Miss the Sweetness of Bhakti

John Carman offers a striking critique:

“Intellectuals have paid a high price for turning away from bhakti…
unable to do justice to the awesomeness or the mysterious sweetness
of the divine–human encounter.”⁴

The Abrahamic faiths—while rich in mystical strands like Hasidism in Judaism and Sufism in Islam—generally begin with settled doctrines:

God exists

• God created the world
• Evil entered (somehow)
• Humanity must obey, repent, and be saved

These premises are foundational and non-negotiable. Certain questions—especially those concerning God’s existence, origin, or essential attributes—are simply never raised. To question them is to step outside the bounds of faith itself.

By contrast, Hinduism is ātma-centered rather than God-centered. It allows—even invites—radical questioning, not only of the world and the self, but of God as well. This openness renders the very idea of “heresy” largely meaningless.

Questioning God is not entirely absent in the Bible, but the context is crucially different. Biblical questioning is usually emotional or moral—lament, protest, or doubt in suffering—not ontological. No Bible-believing Christian, Jew, or Muslim would seriously ask—within classical doctrinal frameworks—whether God exists, who created the universe, or whether God Himself knows the origin of creation. These matters are doctrinally settled.

In Hinduism, however, such questioning is not excluded. The famous Nasadiya Sukta of the Rig Veda dares to ask whether even the Creator knows the origin of creation:

“Perhaps He knows—or perhaps even He does not know.” (Rig Veda X.129)

As Shashi Tharoor reflects:

“I love a faith that raises such a fundamental question about no less a Supreme Being than the Creator of the Universe Himself. Maybe He does not know, indeed. Who are we mere mortals to claim a knowledge of which even He cannot be certain?”⁵

This freedom to question—even at the highest level—does not weaken devotion. On the contrary, it deepens bhakti by shifting the focus from intellectual certainty to lived, loving encounter. Where doctrinal religions seek security through correct belief, bhakti traditions embrace mystery, humility, and sweetness in relationship.

5. The Freedom of the Bhakta as Mystic

For the Hindu devotee, bhakti mixed with mysticism allows for a personal, intimate journey that is not limited by dogmatic claims. The bhakta may remain faithful to the underlying theological framework while freely exploring its deeper implications.

Thus I can write, without fear:

“What You spoke, I wrote again—
exactly as You whispered.”
(BT Song 1744)

and also:

“Still I keep running,
only because
I never wish
to lose You again.”

(BT Song 1743)

Bhakti remains grounded in scripture, yet blossoms into personal expression.
The bhakta is not bound to present these insights as “correct doctrine,” but as inner anubhuti, arising from relationship with the Divine.

Conclusion

Heresy belongs to traditions that prioritize right belief. Bhakti belongs to traditions that prioritize loving experience. In Christianity (and other Abrahamic traditions), safeguarding doctrine is essential for preserving the integrity of faith. In Hinduism, however, the absence of heresiology is not a weakness or an oversight—it is an invitation: an invitation to explore the divine with freedom, subtlety, imagination, and intimacy.

Thus, what might be condemned as “heresy” within Christian theology can appear, to a Hindu bhakta, as a valid, even beautiful, pathway into the heart of God.

This is the spirit behind BT Songs 1743 and 1744:
a God who becomes the knower,
a devotee who becomes the vessel,
and a relationship in which both seek, find, and discover each other.

Here lies the heart of bhakti. As I quoted in the article from A. K. Ramanujan (see my essay Cannibalism in Bhakti: Mutual Consumption When the Eater Is Eaten. https://dayanandbharati.in/cannibalism-in-bhakti-mutual-consumption-when-the-eater-is-eaten/), bhakti is a space where the boundaries between lover and beloved dissolve.

A.K. Ramanujan describes this as “mutual cannibalism”—
a poetic paradox in which:

“the eater is eaten, the container is contained… many times over.”
—[Notes 1]

In this mutual consuming and being consumed, the bhakta and the Divine exchange selves.

That is why bhakti cannot coexist with the idea of heresy:
it is not a system of guarded doctrines,
but a living relationship in which both God and devotee transcend all rigid boundaries.

AFTERTHOUGHT

Heresiology deserves its own independent study. Space does not permit even a brief exploration here. Nevertheless, I have prepared an appendix (see below) drawn from a few selected scholars who have addressed this subject in depth. What follows here is only a preliminary orientation—an introduction and a fitting conclusion to this article.

The more one compares these scholarly perspectives, the clearer the contrast becomes: heresy is simply not a Hindu category. Indian traditions flourished without creeds, without doctrinal policing, and without any anxiety over “wrong belief.” What existed instead was a vast landscape of competing insights, devotional experiments, philosophical schools, and cultural adaptations—none of which required the construction of a heretic.

Christianity’s preoccupation with heresy grew out of its commitment to exclusive revelation and the necessity of maintaining doctrinal uniformity. Hinduism, by contrast, grew through plurality, reinterpretation, and inner experience.

Recognizing this fundamental difference is essential; without it, we risk forcing Hindu traditions into theological molds that were never meant for them.

Ashram, December 12, 2025

Notes

1. Donna Marie Wulff, “A Sanskrit Portrait: Radha in the Plays of Rupa Gosvami,” in The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, ed. John Stratton Hawley and Donna Marie Wulff (Boston: Beacon Press, 1982), 41.
2. Shrivatsa Goswami, “Radha: The Play and Perfection of Rasa,” in The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, 73–74.
3. John B. Carman, “Comments: The Reversal and Rejection of Bhakti,” in The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, 126.
4. Carman, “The Reversal and Rejection of Bhakti,” 128.
5. Shashi Tharoor, Why I Am a Hindu. New Delhi: Aleph Book Company, 2019, 8

Bibliography

• Carman, John B. “Comments: The Reversal and Rejection of Bhakti.” In The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, edited by John Stratton Hawley and Donna Marie Wulff, 125–128. Boston: Beacon Press, 1982.
• Goswami, Shrivatsa. “Radha: The Play and Perfection of Rasa.” In The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, 72–88. Boston: Beacon Press, 1982.
• Wulff, Donna Marie. “A Sanskrit Portrait: Radha in the Plays of Rupa Gosvami.” In The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India, 27–41. Boston: Beacon Press, 1982.

APPENDIX

The Absence of Heresy in Hinduism: A Cross-Cultural Perspective

Introduction

The idea of heresy—a forbidden deviation from authorized doctrine—belongs primarily to the Christian and wider Abrahamic world. Hindu traditions, by contrast, developed without a centralized doctrinal authority, without creeds, and without a single binding revelation. As a result, categories such as “orthodox,” “heterodox,” or “heretical” do not translate neatly into the Indian context.

This Appendix presents a structured summary of insights from leading scholars. It offers no personal reflections, only a clear outline of their findings.

1. Indian Categories Do Not Match Christian Heresiology

1.1 The Limits of astika / nastika

Nicholson shows that Indian classifications like astika and nastika have been mistranslated for decades. They do not mean “theist/atheist,” nor do they correspond to “orthodox/heterodox.” These translations impose Christian categories onto Indian thought and distort the original Indian intentions.
Nicholson argues that because Indian philosophy does not begin with doctrinal policing, such categories should not be interpreted through Christian lenses.
(Note 1)

2. Christian Heresiology: Its Nature and Severity

2.1 Why Heresy is a Central Threat

In Christian history, heresy was often considered more dangerous than external unbelief. Augustine stated that those who left the faith were worse than those who never believed.
(Note 2)

2.2 How “Choice” Became “Error”

The original Greek word hairesis simply meant “choice”—a neutral, even respectable term for philosophical schools. Only with Christian theology did “choice” take on a negative, moralized meaning as deviation from revealed truth.
Nicholson shows that many early “heresies,” such as Arianism, were majority positions in their time and became “heresies” only through later historical developments.
(Note 3)

3. Hinduism’s Absence of Heresy

3.1 No Creed, No Heresy

Tharoor summarizes it simply:

In Hinduism there is no such thing as heresy because there is no compulsory creed from which to deviate. Even non-belief in God is not disqualifying.
(Note 4)

3.2 Sincerity of Christian “Heretics” (for comparison)

Lloyd-Jones notes that Christian heretics were often sincere and well-intentioned; they went wrong because they built theories and then read the Bible selectively to support them.

This insight highlights how policing of interpretation is built into Christianity — a dynamic absent in Hinduism.
(Note 5)

3.3 Many “Heresies” Were Actually Cultural Adaptations

Kraft shows that throughout Christian history, many positions labeled as heresy were actually contextual adaptations or fresh interpretations (e.g., Luther, Calvin, Wesley).
This reinforces the contrast: Christianity historically guarded doctrinal boundaries, whereas Hinduism allowed fluidity, adaptation and reinterpretation.
(Note 6–8)

3.4 Hinduism’s Polymorphic Tolerance

Radhakrishnan states that “heresy-hunting” — familiar in many religions — is absent in Hinduism. Hindu traditions accommodate radical diversity without creating heresiology.
(Note 9)

3.5 Why Heresy Never Emerged in India

Balagangadhara argues that without an absolute truth-claim, the very concept of heresy cannot exist. Indian traditions do not define a singular revealed truth, hence heresy in the Western sense is foreign to the Indian soil.
(Note 10)

4. Indian Notions Sometimes Misread as “Heresy”

4.1 Terms like pashanda/pakhanda

Doniger notes that these Sanskrit terms were used mostly for:

• anti-Vedic movements
• Buddhists and Jains
• internal challenges to ritual authority
  They did not function like Christian heresy labels, which mark doctrinal deviance.
  (Note 11)

4.2 Paśanda as “Hypocritical Orthodoxy”

Gonda and O’Flaherty show that paśanda originally meant a false assumption of orthodoxy — closer to hypocrisy than doctrinal deviation.
Richard Fox Young highlights that even these rare Indian terms do not map onto Christian heresiology.
(Note 12–13)

Conclusion

Across Indian philosophy, bhakti traditions, and renouncer lineages, no centralized authority ever defined binding dogma or policed doctrinal deviation. Disputes existed — sometimes sharp ones — but they did not crystallize into a system of heresiology.
Christianity, by contrast, developed a highly elaborate structure of orthodoxy and heresy, shaped by its commitment to exclusive truth claims and authoritative revelation.
Because of this fundamental difference, imposing Western categories onto Hinduism obscures more than it reveals. Indian traditions require interpretive tools that emerge from Indian soil, not from Christian theological history.

NOTES

1. Nicholson, Unifying Hinduism, p. 166.
2. Henderson, Construction of Orthodoxy and Heresy, p. 138.
3. Nicholson, Unifying Hinduism, pp. 177–178.
4. Tharoor, Why I Am a Hindu, p. 9.
5. Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount, vol. 1, p. 11.
6. Kraft, Christianity in Culture, p. 16.
7. Kraft, Christianity in Culture, p. 294.
8. Kraft, Christianity in Culture, p. 296.
9. Radhakrishnan, The Hindu View of Life, p. 24.
10. Balagangadhara, The Heathen in His Blindness, p. 364.
11. Doniger, The Hindus: An Alternative History, p. 46.
12. Gonda, Visnuism and Sivaism, p. 201 n.167.
13. O’Flaherty (Doniger), The Origin of Heresy in Hindu Mythology, History of Religions 10 (1971): 271–33, notes via Young, Resistant Hinduism, p. 153.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

• Balagangadhara, S.N. The Heathen in His Blindness. New Delhi: Manohar, 2005.
• Doniger, Wendy. The Hindus: An Alternative History. New Delhi: Penguin/Viking, 2009.
• Gonda, J. Visnuism and Sivaism: A Comparison. London: Athlone Press, 1970.
• Henderson, John B. The Construction of Orthodoxy and Heresy. Albany: SUNY Press, 1998.
• Kraft, Charles H. Christianity in Culture. New York: Orbis Books, 2000.
• Lloyd-Jones, D. Martyn. Studies in the Sermon on the Mount. London: Inter-Varsity Fellowship, 1966.
• Nicholson, Andrew J. Unifying Hinduism. Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2011.
• O’Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. “The Origin of Heresy in Hindu Mythology.” History of Religions 10 (1971): 271–33.
• Radhakrishnan, S. The Hindu View of Life. New Delhi: HarperCollins, 1998.
• Tharoor, Shashi. Why I Am a Hindu. New Delhi: Aleph Book Company, 2019.
• Young, Richard Fox. Resistant Hinduism. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1981.