What does the snatra puja teach us? The story it tells, in word and deed, is obviously the key. It is, first and foremost, a celebration of the birth and first bath of the Tirthankar, and it tells us something about this event. But it can also be seen as a statement about the nature of ritual itself. It tells us, that is, something about what it means to worship a Tirthankar, and this is what I want to stress.
This story, the most reiterated narrative in Jainism, deals with the basis of the redemptive economy of the cosmos as seen by the Jains. The basic elements are two, and both are established in the narrative and in the rite based on the narrative. The first element is the advent of one who establishes the path of liberation, namely, the Tirthankar. Here the focus is on the descent of the Tirthankar-to-be into a human womb, the dreams, the birth. The second element, indispensable to any concept of Jainism as an actual tradition, is the establishment of a relationship between such a being and other beings. This is, in fact, the axial relation ship in the Jain tradition, and in the birth narrative and the snatra puja it is represented by the worshipful attentions of the gods and goddesses. Everything comes together in the janamabhisek, the postpartum bath. Here is the infant, and here are the deities. The infant represents the promise of redemption. The deities, for their part, worship the infant. This ritual thus symbolically establishes what must exist if a Jain tradition is to exist, namely, a modality of relationship between the Tirthankars and those who worship Tirthankars. And those who worship the Tirthankars are, paradigmatically, the deities.
Accounts of Jainism sometimes treat the tradition's deities as marginal figures. This is because they are not the primary focus of worship in Jainism; indeed, it can even be said that they are not true objects of worship at all. This is because to be truly worthy of worship is (as we know) to be a Tirthankar or one who is like a Tirthankar, and the deities are not Tirthankars, nor are they remotely like Tirthankars. But to conclude from this that they are unimportant is to miss the point, for they represent the other side of the equation. They are Jainism's model worshipers. To understand the meaning of the worshiper's role, therefore, we must know more about the deities.
As we saw in Chapter One, Jainism's deities and hell-beings are inversions of each other.[1] The hell-beings live in the lower regions of the cosmos, the deities in the upper regions (though not at the very top). The hell-beings must suffer eons of torment because of sins committed in previous births. The deities, by contrast, are beings who exist in a state of continuous enjoyment as a consequence of merit (punya) earned in previous births. The hell-beings exist to suffer; the deities exist to enjoy.
In comparison with humans, deities have special powers and knowledge. They are vastly wealthy. They have the ability and sometimes the willingness to use their powers to assist human beings, although some deities, apparently only those belonging to the marginal vyantar category, can also act maliciously. Their bodies - which contain no blood, meat, or bone - are beautiful, luminous, and free from illness. They are not subject to birth or death pollution (sutak). Their breath is perfectly sweet (as a nun once told me). They do not eat as humans do; when they feel the desire for food, nourishment automatically enters their bodies in the form of pure atoms (pudgals). When they are born they simply appear on divine beds in the form of youths of sixteen. They are perpetually young, and their lives are immensely long. They learn of their deaths six months in advance; at this point their flower garlands wilt and their faces lose luster. When they die the atoms of their bodies are dispersed like camphor, and there is no odor.
The deities' lives may be said to represent every kind of worldly happiness in a perfected state, and if the Tirthankars are apotheosized ascetics, the gods and goddesses are the apotheoses of worldly felicity. They exist for the sole purpose of the very enjoyment the ascetic rejects. This contrast may represent a Jain version of what T. N. Madan characterizes as a general opposition between the good life and its renunciation in the Hindu tradition, between yogi (ascetic) and bhogi (enjoyer) (Madan 1987: 10, 98).
There is, however, a very serious flaw in this happy picture. Despite their special powers, the gods cannot achieve liberation, for this is possible only in a human body. They serve and worship the Tirthankars, listen to their discourses, and also worship Tirthankar images. They are capable of spiritual progress. But the gods are "enjoyers" by definition; as such, they cannot be ascetics, and asceticism is the key to liberation. As a nun once explained it to me in Jaipur, "the gods have plenty of sukh (happiness); but because they don't eat they can't fast, which means they can't achieve moks (liberation)."[2]
The relevant distinction was brought home to me with special force when I asked an Ahmedabad respondent whether the gods are suddh (pure). This seemed a perfectly reasonable question, for in Hindu traditions the gods are certainly seen as pure. My friend, however, rather vehemently responded that the deities have nothing whatsoever to do with purity in this sense. The word suddh, he said, has only to do with the removal of karma (nirjara). He then went on to say that the terms subh and asubh, meaning "auspicious" and "inauspicious" respectively, both belong to the category of things that are "impure" (asuddh) The auspicious, having to do with punya (merit), and the inauspicious, having to do with pap (sin), are both discarded in the end. In this sense, the gods cannot be said to be truly pure.
The Jain tradition does not completely condemn the deities' happiness, for it affirms that it can be gained by means of meritorious action, including the performance of acts of worship. Indeed, one of the highest worldly rewards of asceticism itself is rebirth in heaven as a deity. Moreover, in their felicity the deities clearly represent what John Cort (1989, esp. Ch. 8) has shown to be an entire "realm of value" in the Jain world, that of auspiciousness and worldly well-being. But the message the deities send is mixed. Their happiness is great but transient, for although their lives are eons long, they must perish and fall from heaven in the end. And, as deities, they cannot attain the Supreme goal.
Most of the details to follow come from Hiralal Jain's commentary on Santisuri's Jivavicar Prakaran as supplemented by discussion with knowledgeable individuals.