How to Present Scriptural Wisdom to Our Children | Chaitanya Charan

Hare Krishna.

So today, am I audible here?

Yes, Prabhuji.

Okay, perfect.
And the screen sharing is working?

Yes.

That’s great.
I’ll be using the whiteboard tablet to write and draw certain things.

So let’s begin by looking at verse 8.2.5—the elephant Gajendra’s crisis.

Here, the residents of higher realms like the Kinnaras, Apsaras, and others who were engaged in sporting and enjoyment are described. The caves (Kandaras) of the mountain are filled with these celestial beings—Siddhas, Charanas, Gandharvas, Vidyadharas, serpents, Kinnaras, Apsaras—who come there for recreation.

Just as ordinary men may play in the salty ocean, the inhabitants of the higher planetary systems float and sport in the ocean of milk and enjoy within the caves of Trikuta mountain.

Understanding the Bhagavatam

Let’s now try to understand what is happening in the Srimad Bhagavatam, and how we can grasp it more meaningfully.
When I give a class, I usually follow a framework I call CIT:

• C – Context: What is going on?
  
• I – Insight/Implication: What does it mean for us?
  
• T – Takeaway: How can we apply this in our lives?
  

So, context focuses more on the words, the verses, the chapter, and the book itself.
Implication brings out the universal principle or insight behind it.
Takeaway connects it to real-life relevance—what we can practically apply.

Interestingly, “CIT” also means consciousness—and ultimately, this is how we can approach scripture:
In a way that expands our consciousness and helps us become Krishna conscious.

Right now, our consciousness is limited.
Spiritual growth means expanding it until it becomes filled with Krishna, the Supreme Being.
Every shloka, every spiritual teaching we study is a step in this journey.
Even if our consciousness expands just a little through it, that’s valuable.

Context: Gajendra’s Situation

So, from this perspective, let’s explore the context.

This is the beginning of the Eighth Canto, and Gajendra’s pastime is the first major one.
We’re currently in Chapter 2. Chapters 2, 3, and 4 describe Gajendra’s crisis, his prayers of surrender, and his liberation.

These chapters follow a powerful arc:

1. Material happiness
   
2. Material distress
   
3. Material hopelessness
   
4. Spiritual surrender
   
5. Spiritual liberation
   

The word moksha or mukti is common in the Vedic tradition. But in the Bhakti tradition, it refers not to impersonal liberation but to loving union with Krishna in His abode.

Right now, the narrative describes Gajendra’s material prosperity—his state of material happiness.
From here, we will see how that turns into hopelessness, followed by his surrender and deliverance.

Understanding Material Happiness

Material happiness depends on several factors:

• The place we are in
  
• The people we are with
  
• The activity we are doing
  
• Our attitude or state of mind
  

In a broader sense, the soul is:

1. Situated in the mind
   
2. Within a physical body
   
3. Surrounded by people (social context)
   
4. Existing in a particular environment
   

These can be correlated with:

• Adhyatmika (body and mind)
  
• Adhibhautika (other beings or people)
  
• Adhidaivika (natural or cosmic environment)
  

So, material happiness often depends on where we are (Goa, Nainital, Darjeeling), who we are with, what we’re doing, and how we feel internally.

Someone can travel to a beautiful place but if they’re sick or have a bad mood, they may not enjoy it.
Someone else may visit an inconvenient place, but due to spiritual curiosity or a positive mindset, they may relish it.

In this way, material happiness is multi-factored and often fragile.

Describing the Place: Trikuta Mountain

Now, in the verse we are discussing, the place is being described—it’s so fantastic that it may seem like fantasy. But fantasy implies it’s imaginary. Here, fantastic means wonderful and extraordinary.

Sometimes, readers may question the reality of such places or beings:
“Do such beings as Apsaras, Charanas, Siddhas really exist?”

One scholar once remarked:
“While mythological imagination exists in every religious tradition, only in Hinduism has it run riot. There are not just multiple gods, but millions; not just one heaven, but many planetary systems.”

From an outsider’s view, this might appear as wild imagination. But even in Christianity, we find angels, demons, devils, and ghosts. So this richness isn’t unique to Vedic literature alone.

The Role of Worldviews

What matters is the worldview.
We all live within a worldview, and often we’re unaware of how deeply it shapes us.

For example:

• A scriptural worldview (Shastra-chakshu) sees reality through the lens of spiritual teachings.
  
• A modern materialistic worldview might dismiss such descriptions as unscientific or fictional.
  

If two people operate from two drastically different worldviews, communication itself becomes difficult.

Let’s say someone is money-minded.
They may evaluate everything in terms of its monetary value, even a temple, seeing only the wealth behind it and not its artistic or spiritual depth.

Likewise, someone with a spiritual worldview might visit a temple and focus on:

• The ambience
  
• The mood of devotion
  
• The symbolism
  
• The experience of transcendence
  

Thus, our worldview filters and colors everything we perceive.

Who are the people behind this tradition? How are they depicted in various ways?
Do they come from a different background or belief system?
You may want to know:

• What are their beliefs?
  
• What do they worship?
  
• How do they worship?
  

Now, looking at the monetary aspect of religious practices or temples is important—it gives a certain perspective. But if that’s all we look at, we’ll miss out on so many other dimensions.

The point is: our worldview—whatever it may be—shapes our every view.
And especially when we go deep into scripture, and particularly when we try to communicate scripture to our children, worldview becomes very crucial.

Children’s Worldview: A Journey

Let’s consider a child’s journey in terms of worldview.
(And I hope the concept of “worldview” is clear now—it’s the foundational lens through which we perceive and interpret everything.)

When children are young—say, till the age of 10 or 12 (what we call the pre-teen years)—they mostly adopt the parents’ worldview.

Now, I won’t get into complex cases where the parents themselves have conflicting worldviews (e.g., a father who is materialistic and a mother who is devotional, or vice versa). Let’s assume that the parents share a reasonably similar worldview.

So in the early years, the child tends to adopt that shared parental worldview.
But at the same time, the child is going to school, where they are exposed to new influences.

From around 10 onwards (though the exact age can vary), till about 22–25, three major influences shape a young person’s worldview:

1. Education
   
2. Peers
   
3. Culture (including media)
   

Peers and culture are often closely linked, as peers reflect the prevailing culture and also shape it. Peers also emerge from the same education system, so there is overlap.

When Worldviews Clash: Cognitive Dissonance

Now, this is where a potential conflict arises:
If the worldview of the family and the worldview shaped by education and culture don’t match, it leads to something psychologists call cognitive dissonance.

Just like “resonance” means two sounds harmonize, “dissonance” means they clash.
So in cognitive dissonance, the child feels torn between two opposite views—and this is deeply disturbing.

For example, a child growing up in Bhakti, if not given a proper understanding of how science and scripture relate, might be told at home or at the temple that evolution is false.
But then in school, they see evolution as not just accepted—but embedded into all branches of science.

Now the question arises:
“Is evolution wrong?”
“But it’s everywhere in my books and teachers’ lectures!”
“How do I make sense of this?”

This internal conflict is often more painful than even the struggles with desires.

Desires vs. Worldview Conflict

When children hit their teens, hormones activate, and desires start to surface—sometimes conflicting with the values taught at home or in scripture.
This is a biological challenge, and while it’s hard, it can be handled with the right guidance.

But deeper than that is the intellectual or worldview conflict—particularly for those who are rationally inclined.
They feel as if two parts of them are pulling in opposite directions.

Resolving the Dissonance

Let me share a light example:
There was a cartoon where an Indian boy is in America. His American friend asks,
“Why do you people worship so many gods?”
The Indian boy replies:
“We like to keep backups.” 

Now it’s a witty answer, but behind such humor is a truth:
If children aren’t taught how to answer such questions meaningfully, they’ll make up their own answers.
That’s how people resolve cognitive dissonance—either by ignoring, rejecting, or patching up what they don’t understand.

Faith Development Across Generations

In religious psychology, a common research question is:
How is your faith similar to and different from that of your parents?

This has been studied extensively in Judaism and Christianity, less so in Islam and Hinduism.

What we see is that children rarely adopt their parents’ faith in exactly the same way.

• They might love kirtan but not be as interested in japa.
  
• Or they might do both but prefer more relaxed gender interactions, unlike previous generations.
  

Every generation finds its own way to harmonize tradition and modernity, faith and culture, devotion and logic.

Understanding this is key to effective communication.
Before we share, we must understand:
What is their worldview? How does it intersect with ours?

Intersection of Worldviews

So, suppose we have two worldviews:

1. Scriptural worldview
   
2. Modern worldview
   

Our focus, when trying to connect, should be the intersection of the two.

This overlapping area becomes the basis for meaningful communication.

Two Outcomes of Meaningful Engagement

If we engage sincerely at this intersection, two outcomes are possible:

1. The overlap expands—the person becomes more open to the scriptural worldview while still holding on to parts of the modern worldview.
   
2. The person gradually transitions to a scriptural worldview.
   

Both outcomes are positive.

• In the first case, the person becomes a scripture appreciator: they see value in scriptural teachings.
  
• In the second case, the person becomes a scriptural follower: they accept scripture as an authority.
  

Both journeys are valid—and important.

Conclusion: A Gradual Transition

So the takeaway is this:

• Recognize that worldviews shape perception.
  
• Understand that conflicts in worldview can cause serious dissonance—especially in children or youth.
  
• Find the intersection between your worldview and theirs.
  
• Build communication and trust in that overlapping space.
  
• Allow the journey to unfold—gradually from appreciation to acceptance.
  

In the next section, we’ll look at how Srila Prabhupada modeled this principle in his own outreach and teachings.

When Prabhupada was in Los Angeles, some devotees from Hawaii came to meet him. They said, “Prabhupada, when we speak with scholars and tell them about the Bhagavatam, they often mock us. For example, when we mention that Maharaj Ugrasena had an extraordinarily large number of bodyguards—an almost fantastical figure—they laugh and ask, ‘Where were their quarters? Where were their washrooms? How could so many people live in a place like Dwaraka?’”

Now, Prabhupada could have responded by saying that Krishna can maintain the entire world on the tip of a needle—emphasizing the inconceivable power of Krishna. We could cite astronomical figures (not in the sense of astronomy, but in terms of vast magnitude), yet to academics, such numbers seem absurd.

So how do we reconcile this? What was Prabhupada’s response?

Surprisingly, his reply was non-confrontational and pragmatic. Prabhupada asked, “Among the thousands of verses in the Bhagavatam, is that the only one you found worth discussing with scholars? If you get to meet a scholar for the first time—possibly the only time—is this the point you want to share with them? That a king had so many bodyguards?”

That approach doesn’t help. Instead, when a couple of scholars asked Prabhupada, “If your message had to be summarized briefly, what verses would you choose?”—he offered verses like 1.2.9 and 1.2.10. These verses emphasize that the purpose of life is not material gratification but spiritual cultivation.

This is a message anyone can relate to. They may not all accept it, but everyone can relate to it. Sooner or later, people realize: “There are so many things I wanted in life. Some I haven’t achieved. A few I have—but even those haven’t really brought me happiness. So, is there another path to happiness I can pursue?” This is how spiritual conversations can progress.

Now, consider a valuable takeaway here. Prabhupada gave a powerful definition of realization in a class: he said every acharya in our tradition has followed this principle—when teaching, we must connect the message of scripture with the interests of the audience.

He illustrated this with the idea of overlapping diagrams. One circle is the scriptural message coming from the past, and another circle is the interest of the audience in the present. Realization means presenting the message of scripture in a way that interests the audience—where those two circles overlap.

As speakers, teachers, or practitioners, we reside inside the tradition. But conceptually, we need to step into the audience’s circle—understand their interests, their concerns, their worldview—and then return to our base with that understanding.

This is our home, but just as in outreach, if we never step outside our home—physically or digitally—we won’t reach people. Outreach requires us to go beyond our physical and intellectual comfort zones. If we stay in our rooms or temples, even if visitors come, we won’t be able to connect with them meaningfully.

Similarly, we must go beyond our intellectual “home”—our familiar worldview. It’s not enough to dismiss others as “in Maya.” Yes, they may be, but they have their own reasoning and background for why they think the way they do. If we understand that, we can present spiritual wisdom in a way that resonates with them.

So “going out of our home” is not just physical—it’s also intellectual and cultural. If we carry a dismissive attitude—”Oh, these people are in Maya”—we will fail to reach them.

Now, consider one more example. Prabhupada once spoke with devotees of the Bhaktivedanta Institute (BI), who were scientists or interested in science. When discussing the existence of God or the soul, if devotees started quoting shlokas right away, Prabhupada said, “Don’t bring scripture here.”

He explained that our message should not rely only on quoting scripture—we should be able to explain it with logic and reason. Of course, we can quote scripture where appropriate. But when the audience does not accept scriptural authority, we must explain spiritual principles logically.

On the other hand, if we’re speaking to a traditional audience that accepts scripture, quoting it reassures them: “Yes, what you’re saying is based on shastra.”

So returning to the Bhagavatam example—yes, such verses exist. But the way we share them must be thoughtful. We must understand the worldview we come from, the worldview of those we’re speaking to, and find a meaningful bridge between the two.

That’s what it means to be realized.

What we understand by observing the world around us is one level of knowledge.
To convey the same point from the scriptures to those who accept scriptural authority, we can use scriptural explanations.
But for those who do not accept scriptural authority, we need to explain things rationally using logic.

For example, if we choose not to eat meat, and our children are going to school where others are eating meat, they may be asked, “Why don’t you eat meat?”

Now, we could say, “Anyone who breaks the four regulative principles will go to hell. They will be boiled in oil just like the animals are fried in frying pans. If you eat meat, you’ll go to hell.”

But what is the most likely response?
“You’ll go to hell? I don’t want to talk to such a person. You’re just a religious fanatic.”
They may consider us irrational because they don’t accept scripture, nor the idea of hell.
Even if they accept scripture, they may follow a Christian tradition where meat-eating is not condemned in the same way.

So, in such cases, we need to speak on the basis of logic.

What does logic mean?

There are many reasons to support vegetarianism. I have an article on my website The Spiritual Scientist where I explain how your food can help the world.
Every bite of vegetarian food benefits not just our health, but also the environment.

Why is vegetarian food better for our health?
Because the human digestive system, including the alimentary canal, is more similar to that of herbivores than carnivores.

Why is it better for the environment?
Because the land used to grow fodder for livestock could be used to grow food directly for humans—feeding many more people.
Also, livestock are subjected to significant cruelty. Documentaries have shown the painful conditions animals endure in meat industries.

This concern for cruelty is universal and widely shared.
In fact, a shift towards vegetarianism could significantly reduce global poverty.
And this isn’t just my opinion—organizations like the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) have supported this.

When we explain it this way, it becomes easier for people to understand.
The idea is that while we may have a scriptural reason for a certain practice, we can also find a logical reason that resonates with others.

So we begin with the logical explanation, and then we can add, “This is also mentioned in my scriptures, and that’s why I do it.”

But the initial reason we present doesn’t have to be scriptural—it can be something the audience can grasp and appreciate.

Let’s take the example of Tilak.
We can give a devotional explanation to insiders—those who accept scriptural authority or are inclined to do so.
We might say, “Tilak represents Krishna’s lotus feet, and Tulsi, His consort. The leaf is placed at the foot of the Lord.”

However, this explanation might be too difficult for others to understand.
It could even trigger gender-related questions like:

• Why is the male above?
  
• Why is the female below?
  
• Why is the female at the feet of the male?
  

These can create unnecessary complications.
So for newcomers, if someone asks about Tilak, I simply say:

“We understand that our existence is a gift of divinity and nature. This symbol represents divinity, and this one represents nature.”

If the conversation continues, we can explain how there’s synergy between divinity and nature—but we don’t have to say, “Divinity is male and nature is female.”
Otherwise, we open the door to more contentious questions:

• Why is divinity only male?
  
• Can’t divinity be female?
  

Thus, while we may have a specific explanation, we can also offer a universal explanation—something that people outside our tradition can also relate to.

The more we understand this principle and present accordingly, the more people we can meaningfully reach.

Take a simple purport from Śrīla Prabhupāda:
He could have elaborated on who the Cāraṇas, Siddhas, and other celestial beings are, but instead, he focuses on a relatable point—just as people play here, they also play there.
He emphasizes relatable commonality rather than overwhelming or alien details.
And that’s the essence—what is relatable and understandable.

That way, each of us can grow in our journey and help others grow in theirs.

To summarize what I discussed today:

Our theme was how to share scriptural wisdom, and I used the acronym C-H-I-T.

• C was Context:
  I discussed how the story moves from material happiness for Gajendra, to hopelessness, to spiritual surrender, and finally, spiritual liberation.
  This is the textual trajectory.
  
• Even our material happiness depends on many things:
  
  • The soul and its attitude
    
  • The physical activity we are engaged in
    
  • The people we are with
    
  • The place we are in
    

All these affect our happiness.
But sometimes the places or events described in scripture seem too fantastic—like fantasy.
That’s because our worldview shapes how we perceive everything.

We may not even be conscious of our worldview, but it shapes every single view we have.
So in outreach, we must realize:

• I inhabit one worldview
  
• The listener inhabits another
  

We need to find the intersection between our worldviews.

Once we do that, the area of overlap can grow.
Then the other person may move from being indifferent to becoming an appreciator of scripture.
And maybe, eventually, a follower.

So our children, too, go through a worldview evolution as they grow.
We should support them wisely.

In conclusion, as spiritual teachers or seekers, we must become expert at:

• Understanding the message of scripture, and
  
• Understanding the interests and worldview of the audience
  

This dual awareness enables us to present timeless truths in ways that touch hearts and transform lives.

Interest refers to what is intelligible or meaningful within someone’s worldview. Therefore, we need to present the message of scripture in such a way that it resonates with and interests them.
That’s why it’s important that we, at least intellectually, step outside our own worldview.

This (our worldview) is our home, but for outreach, we need to step out—to see how others are thinking, what they are thinking, and communicate accordingly.
The same scriptural message can be presented in different ways—sometimes rooted directly in scripture, other times conveyed through logic or relatable examples.

For instance, I could give an example of how to speak about meat-eating—why we avoid it—or how to explain the concept of luck. Even if the explanation isn’t purely logical, it can still tap into something more universal.

In such cases, you might offer a specific example and also a universal explanation.
The more universal the explanation, the more intelligible it becomes for a broader audience, and this is how our outreach can expand.

Thank you very much.

Is there any question or comment?

Audience Responses:

Speaker 1:
Hare Krishna, Prabhuji. Thank you so much for this very, very illuminating class.
I actually do not know the details about Tilak. Maybe this isn’t the right forum, but perhaps we can discuss it some other time if the class time is over.
Thank you, Prabhuji.

Speaker 2:
Thank you very much.
Thank you so much for this insightful class.
You explained everything so naturally and simply—how to explain things like vegetarian food or spiritual knowledge to school-going children.
We really appreciate your time, Prabhuji.

If anyone has any questions or comments, please feel free to share.

Speaker 3:
Hare Krishna. Please accept my humble obeisances.
Thank you very much for the nice class, Prabhu. I had a question.
My children grew up in Krishna consciousness, but as they went through high school and college, their worldview seems to have been shaped more by their schooling environment.

I grew up in India, so I don’t fully understand their worldview—just a little bit.
I can see that at least one of them experiences a kind of cognitive dissonance, like you mentioned—between what we practice at home and the trends or influences from outside.
They are still inclined toward spirituality, but as a parent, my expectations are different, and I’m struggling with that.

Any guidance, Prabhu?

Response:

Yes. First of all, just talk with them—don’t just talk to them.
Instead of immediately judging their actions as wrong, try to understand the reasons behind them.

Now, we may not consider their reasons valid, but they have some reason, and unless they feel we’re willing to understand them, there will be a communication breakdown.

As parents, it is our responsibility to pass on the values that shaped our own lives—values from our tradition and experience.
But at a certain point, especially in today’s world, it’s less about us transmitting values and more about them selecting which values they will accept.

So, instead of it being a one-way transmission, it becomes a two-way negotiation.

Initially, when the child is younger, the value transmission is more direct. For example, we teach them how to greet guests, how to speak respectfully, etc. But as they grow—especially beyond age 10 or into their twenties—it becomes more about them choosing.

That’s why I generally don’t recommend initiation before 18. Even if a child is enthusiastic at 14 or 15, they haven’t yet developed the maturity to make independent, informed choices.

Parents might be eager—“Oh, my child wants to get initiated!”—but it’s ultimately their life.
Krishna has given everyone free will, and they should make that choice with open eyes and ears, understanding the commitment they’re making.

Eventually, in their 20s or even later, they’ll integrate values—bringing together what they learned from parents, tradition, and personal experience.

To support this, peer groups are very helpful—where children can associate with others who are also spiritually inclined.
That way, the transition doesn’t feel like a zero-or-one, black-or-white choice.
They’ll see it’s not just “my family vs. the world.”
Gradually, they’ll find balance.

During this stage, communication must increase.
Instead of just giving instructions, create dialogue—back and forth.

In Eastern culture, authority is often vertical—guru on top, disciple below.
But in the West, relationships are more horizontal. There’s still some hierarchy, but it’s more collaborative.

Even in the Vedic tradition, we see this. Take Narada and Dhruva, for example.
Narada advises Dhruva to go back home, suggesting his problem is minor. But Dhruva respectfully replies, “What you say is true, but it doesn’t help me. My heart has been wounded by the harsh words and actions of my stepmother and father.”

Now, Narada doesn’t assert his seniority or authority—he doesn’t say, “How dare you!”
Instead, he adjusts. He sees what Dhruva needs and guides him accordingly.

So that’s what communication looks like.
Not just transmitting information, but adapting, listening, and guiding based on where the other person is at.

Thank you very much.
Speaker:
Thank you so much, Prabhu.
Hare Krishna.