Absent Lord: Sacred Others

We have two basic patterns of ritual gifting before us. In one the gift returns; in the other it does not, as in the case of dan-type prestations. They seem very different. Some ritual offerings, those that are not returned, take negative qualities away and keep them away. Others serve as media for intimate reciprocity between deity and devotee. Still others may fall somewhere in between. In this final section I would like to propose that there is a relationship between them; using Raheja's materials as a background of reference, we can see them as variations on a theme.

Offerings made in the Pustimarg are not called dan, nor are they dan in any sense whatsoever. Nor is there anything at all negative about food offerings to Krsna; indeed, they represent the offerer's best feelings and best self. ^[1] Nonetheless, the theme of offering-borne negativity is to be found in the Pustimarg, although this notion seems to be sequestered off from the normal routines of worship. We see it in the initiate's vow to sacrifice "mind, body and wealth" to Krsna, which, cleansed by him of faults, are restored to the offerers. Purified by him, worshipers then comingle with him in ritual acts that express the devotee's highest ideal, which is consubstantial identity with him. Krsna emerges as a being who is both highly transactional and transformative.

But when offerings are made to a nontransactional or minimally transactional being, negativities cannot be destroyed. The logic of the ritual encounter then becomes different. Negativities must be passed onward; reciprocity becomes problematic. The crucial difference is in the character of the ritual "other," the sacred being.

Raheja's vrats do not actually require the presence of sacred beings at all. But when such beings are involved they seem to function as antagonistic others. They are the source of troubles and afflictions, and the troubles they bring seem to emanate from their intrinsic nature as entities; the affliction somehow participates in the nature of its source. The ritualist's goal is getting rid of trouble; the affliction is disarticulated, loosened, and shed onto others. Because of the association between the affliction and the nature of the deity, there is a sense in which the ritual is a shedding, a getting rid of the deity. Trouble is sent back to its source, although ultimately it is passed on to designated human others. Perhaps this is because the final human recipient stands in for the deity (for they are supposed to resemble each other), or possibly the gift appeases the god while the inauspiciousness it bears is passed onward; on present evidence it is difficult to say. But in any case, what is clear is that the offering bears negativity, that the negativity is associated with the deity, and that the act of giving is a passing on of the negativity to others.

The ritual culture of the Pustimarg is more familiar to students of what is called Hinduism. Here the deity possesses transformative power. Here, too, the goal of the devotee's encounter is self-transformation, but it is not a shedding of negative qualities emanating from an antagonistic other, but rather a reciprocal exchange with a being who is an object of devotion. Such a deity functions as an intimate other. If negativity is involved, it is ameliorated through his sacred power. Given the deity's transactional and transformative nature, the gift can and should be returned to the giver. Intimate other is thus divine counter-giver, and reciprocity becomes the dominant theme of ritual.

The Tirthankar represents "pure" otherness - otherness, one might say, without presence. The same seems to be true of the Buddha, at least as he is venerated in the Sinhalese Theravada tradition. That the Tirthankar is really an "other" cannot be seriously doubted, for his image is seen, touched, anointed, addressed in prayer. And it certainly seems possible to say that he is in some sense "present" in the hearts of his devotees. But what separates the Tirthankar from the Pustimarg's Krsna and Raheja's godlings alike is that he is not a transactional presence. Transactionally he is an "absence" surrounded by a field of transactional negation - the perfect embodiment of what McKim Marriott, in a general analysis of South Asian transactional patterns, has called the "minimalist" strategy of "symmetrical nonexchange" (1976: 122, 127). ^[2]

The Tirthankar's worship is indeeed transformative, but not because worshipers share his nature and grace, or because they send misfortune back to its source. Rather, one might say that his image serves as an occasion for reflexive (and intransitive) ritualizations. His persona - disengaged and completely nontransactive - represents a condition the worshiper hopes to achieve. This condition is itself nontransactiveness, and in the very nature of the case, the quality of nontransactiveness cannot be transmitted by means of transactions. Therefore, the Tirthankar is, as he must be, an exemplary other. He is the target only of love and emulation, but not of gifts. This is what comes of worshiping an absolute ascetic; the connection cannot be tangible, but only metaphoric or analogical.

The ritual subculture of the Dadagurus presents us with a mixed case. In some respects the Dadaguru is an intimate other; transactions between Dadaguru and worshiper do indeed occur, and blessings are indeed conferred. But we are struck by the hesitancy and relative exiguousness of these transactions by comparison with the all-throttles-open transactions of the Pustimarg. Furthermore, the role of the Dadaguru as transacting other is in need of special legitimization. The miraculous power of these figures is portrayed as specifically Jain in nature and its deployment is justified as needed for the protection and glorification of Jain teachings. Because the object of worship is a Jain ascetic, and also because the historical context and supporting ideology are clearly Jain, it would not seem egregiously wrong to say that the Dadagurus cult is a ritual subculture of one branch of Svetambar "Jainism," not a form of "Hinduism" grafted onto a Jain base. That is, its informing spirit is that of a particular type of exemplary other, the Tirthankar.

The materials on Saiva worship present us with another mixed case. In its structure, Saiva worship recalls Raheja's dan pattern, with Canda designated as the ultimate offering-recipient. But Siva is no antagonist. Indeed, his grace is required for liberation, and he even receives the offerer's self; to this degree he resembles an intimate other. And yet we also see that his contact with the offering is minimal, and that he himself is minimally transformative, which is why the offering must be passed on to the demon-like Canda. This is in keeping with Siva's character as an ascetic, and in this respect the pattern seems more reminiscent of Jainism than of the Pustimarg. It may be that we are dealing here with a Tirthankar-like exemplary other whose patterns of worship have been overlain with a more classically devotional rationale. Perhaps this is an instance of disjunction between ritual role structure and ritual culture - in this case a structure of transactional minimalism and a culture that includes some elements of devotional intimacy. But whatever the case, Saiva ritual culture raises serious questions about the status of interreligious boundaries in the Indic cultural region.

If we combine the Jain materials with other data we have surveyed, we find three ideal-typical interactional patterns between parties to ritual relationships. A ritualist's transactions with Raheja's godlings may be characterized as one-way: Negativity is sent back to its source, and then beyond the source to a destination identified with the source. The Pustimarg specializes in two-way transactions: By means of intimate exchange devotee and deity become sharers in each other. Offerings given in the Tirthankar's name represent the limiting case of transactional analysis: The ultimate recipient is defined only negatively, for the sole requirement is that whoever takes the offering not be a Jain. These gifts are zero-way. Destinationless, untransformed, and spiritually unwholesome offerings are expelled from the universe established by the ritual, carrying their burden to the non-Jain world beyond. As we see, these distinctions have little to do with boundaries between such reified "isms" as Hinduism and Jainism; the patterns are neither Hindu nor Jain but variations on a deeper structure that is simply South Asian.