Prof. Dr. Lawrence A. Babb
Most of my Jain friends and acquaintances in Jaipur were businessmen, many in the gemstone trade. These men were not, by and large, sophisticated about religious matters and did not pretend to be. They were men of business and masters of their craft. They had little time or inclination to worry about or debate the fine points of Jainism.
Nor were they usually very observant beyond a certain minimum. Of course they were all vegetarians. Although I frequently heard the allegation that many men of their sort ate meat on the sly, I saw absolutely no evidence of this. Nonetheless, despite the constant exhortations of ascetics, most did not strictly adhere to such rules as the avoidance of potatoes, and few indeed avoided eating at night. Avoiding vegetables that grow underground (which are believed to be teeming with life-forms) and not eating at night (so as not to harm creatures that might fall into the food) are generally regarded as indices of serious Jain praxis. Most were not daily temple-goers, although I believe most of them knew at least the rudiments of temple procedures. But in spite of a certain amount of behavioral and ritual corner-cutting, by any reasonable standard these men were serious Jains.
One good friend, then a youngish bachelor in whose gem-polishing establishment I spent many an hour, is exemplary of this whole class of men. He knows how to perform the basic Jain rite of worship (the eightfold worship, to be discussed in Chapter Two). He visits a temple about once a week. He usually does so for darsan, for a sacred viewing of the images, not to perform a full rite of worship. He used to go to an important regional pilgrimage site (at Malpura near Jaipur) every month on full moon days, although this has dropped off because of the pressures of business. He fasts only once a year on the last day of Paryusan, the eight-day period that is the most sacred time of the year for Jains. He performs the expiatory rite of pratikraman on this day also. He certainly does not pretend to live the life of an ideal Jain layman, but he nevertheless identifies strongly with Jainism and holds its values and beliefs in the highest possible esteem.
As do many other men of his general class, condition, and age, he comes from a family in which women are highly observant and usually far more so than the men. His mother performs the forty-eight-minute contemplative exercise called samayik and visits a temple daily. She fasts four times a month, and on fasting days she performs the rite of pratikraman. She has not eaten root vegetables from the time of her birth, and for at least thirty years has not taken food at night. The wife of one of his six brothers follows the same strict pattern as her mother-in-law. His other sisters-in-law visit the temple once or twice a week and fast approximately once a month; they would probably do more, he said, were it not for the responsibility of young children.
And here is the mystery. Even in this rather observant family, my friend told me, the topic of liberation (moksa) from the world's bondage simply never comes up. He added that he does not even remember anyone ever mentioning the word; it just was not part of the family discourse. He himself hardly gives any thought to liberation. Indeed, in response to my queries he ventured the opinion that liberation is really "not possible" at all (meaning, I believe, for people in his own position). In order to attain liberation, he said, you have to renounce the world and devote yourself to spiritual endeavors. "But we," he said, "have our businesses to attend to." He went on to state that most Jains do not actually know what liberation is, and visit temples solely for the purpose of advancing their worldly affairs.
The matter, however, is more complex than my friend's remarks might suggest. Let me say at once that to some degree he was exaggerating, probably for pedagogical effect. For example, the issue of liberation would not normally arise in a family context, but the same individuals might well speak of liberation in more specifically religious contexts. Still, it remains true that the religious lives of most ordinary lay-Jains are not liberation-oriented. Even women's fasting - which is often spectacular and certainly evokes the image of the moks marg (the path to liberation) - seems often, and perhaps mostly, to be motivated by the desire to protect families, to achieve favorable rebirth, or even to gain social prestige.[1] I found a general awareness and understanding of the goal of liberation among Jains with whom I discussed the matter, but liberation tends to be seen as a very remote goal - not for now, not for any time soon.
But at the same time, it is also generally understood that although rituals, fasting, and other such religious activities generate merit (punya) that will lead to worldly felicity, the goal should be liberation. This is certainly the view promoted by Jain ascetics in their sermons, and it is reasonably well understood by the laity. Many Jains say, as my friend does, that other Jains engage in ritual purely to advance their worldly affairs. But the point, of course, is that one should not be so motivated; one should really be seeking liberation. Given all this, we are presented with a puzzle. Just what is the relationship between liberation and the lives and aspirations of lay Jains?
This puzzle is perhaps nowhere more evident than in the major periodic rites of worship. These rites are, in fact, a vital domain of religious activity for men such as my friend. As Josephine Reynell points out (esp. 1987; see also Laidlaw 1995: Chs. 15-16), there is a basic division of ritual labor among temple-going Svetambar Jains: women fast, while men - too immersed in their affairs to do serious fasting - make religious donations (dana; in Hindi, dan). A major field for religious donations is the support of important periodic rites. These are often held in conjunction with calendrical festivals and also on the founding anniversaries of temples. They are frequently occasions for the display of great wealth. Truly startling sums are often paid in the auctions held to determine who will have the honor of supporting particular parts of the ceremony or of assuming specific ceremonial roles. This aspect of sponsorship seems to function as a public validation of who's who in the wealth and power hierarchies of the Jain community. The ceremonies supported by this cascade of wealth are typically sumptuous, lavish occasions - full of color and suggestions of the abundant wealth of the supporters. They seem to have little to do with liberation from the world's bondage.
And yet here is the paradox. If we peel away the opulence and glitter from these occasions we discover that liberation is there, right at their heart. At the center of all the spending, the celebration, the display, the stir, is the figure of the Tirthankar. He[2] represents everything that the celebration is apparently not, for he is, above all else, an ascetic. His asceticism, moreover, has gained him liberation from the very world of flowing wealth of which the rite seems so much a part. Liberation and the asceticism that leads to liberation are thus finally the central values, despite the context of opulence. Wealth is not worshiped; wealth is used to worship the wealthless.
We now look more closely at an example of such a rite. The example I have chosen is not only a rite of which the Tirthankar is the object; it is also a rite that, in a kind of doubleness of purpose, explains why the Tirthankar is an object of worship.
