Should we accept all misfortune as God s will Mayapur Bhagavatam class – Chaitanya Charan

So I’m grateful to be here with all of you today. This section of the Bhagavatam is one of the most challenging—not just because of the complexity of what’s happening, but also because of how closely it relates to our own lives.

Whenever I’m speaking at a new place and have limited time, I like to use a framework I call the CIT framework for approaching the Bhagavatam. C stands for Context, I for Implication, and T for Takeaway.

So I’ll speak on three points:

1. What is the context—what’s going on in the story?
2. What is the implication—what does it mean for us?
3. And finally, what is the takeaway—what can we learn and apply?

This approach helps us connect the Bhagavatam’s timeless teachings to our everyday experiences.

Let’s start with the context. I’ll be writing and drawing a little as we go along.

In the Bhagavatam, the material world is described as a place of ups and downs. But sometimes the “downs” go way down—that’s what is referred to as dharmasya glāni, a severe decline in righteousness. At such times, it’s not just a problem; it becomes a crisis.

In our own lives, we often try to deal with problems ourselves. If it’s too big, we escalate—to our authorities, our seniors. But when it’s a huge crisis, we go straight to the top. Something similar is happening in this section: the demigods are facing an extraordinary threat from the demons—Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu. These aren’t just ordinary demons; they’re causing devastation on an unimaginable scale.

So the devatas approach Brahma, expecting him to take the issue to Vishnu. But Brahma tells them something unexpected: There is no need to go to Vishnu right now. This whole situation is actually orchestrated by Vishnu Himself.

He then narrates the backstory of Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu—that they are, in fact, the gatekeepers Jaya and Vijaya who have descended into the material world due to a curse. So the destruction being caused is part of the Lord’s divine plan.

Now, let’s come to the implication.

For most of us, when we face adversity, we naturally try to solve the problem. But for devotees—those who believe in God—a deeper question often arises: Where is God in all this?

Let’s think of it this way: our existence can be viewed as being within three overlapping circles:

1. The body-mind level (Adhyātmika klesha) – problems arising from within.
2. The social level (Adhibhautika klesha) – problems caused by other people or beings.
3. The natural/environmental level (Adhidaivika klesha) – problems from natural or cosmic forces.

Now, from all these levels, we experience distress. We try to counter these in various ways: medical help, therapy, technology, policy. But sometimes, distress becomes absolutely unmanageable. When suffering seems disproportionate to any known cause, we naturally ask: Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this?

At such times, when regular causes and explanations don’t satisfy, we begin to look upwards—toward a higher cause, toward God.

So in this story, the devatas, unable to handle the threat, go to Brahma. Brahma gives a spiritual explanation: This is the will of the Lord. The implication? Some problems are not meant to be fought—they are meant to be accepted.

If it’s the Lord’s will, then resisting it may be futile. That’s not to say all suffering is God’s will. But some exceptional circumstances may be part of a divine plan. This introduces the idea of acceptance, which is very important.

But let’s be honest. If Krishna Himself told us, “This is my will,” it would be easier to accept. But when someone else hurts us—an exploitative boss, a malicious neighbor—we struggle. Is this person’s action Krishna’s will? Or just their own malice?

That’s where things get complicated. And that’s why scriptures use various terms—daiva (destiny), kāla (time), karma, and so on. These help convey the sense of a higher order or arrangement, without directly blaming the Lord for painful events.

Let’s now turn to the takeaway—what can we learn?

I’ll share three scriptural examples and one from Srila Prabhupada’s life.

1. Bali Maharaj and Kāla

When Bali Maharaj is arrested by Vamana’s associates, the demons with him want to fight back. But he says, “No. This is kāla, an unfavorable time. Don’t resist it.” The idea is: when a force becomes unstoppable and incomprehensible, it is often best understood as a manifestation of time or destiny.

2. Rama’s Exile and Daiva

When Lord Rama is exiled, Lakshmana gets furious. He accuses Dasharatha of being blinded by attachment to Kaikeyi. Rama calmly responds, “No. Our father was simply fulfilling a vow.” When Lakshmana still argues, Rama says, “This sudden change in Kaikeyi’s heart—so unnatural—must be the will of destiny. Let us accept it.”

3. Bhishma and the Will of the Lord

When Bhishma speaks to Yudhishthira after the war, he analyses many possible causes for the devastation—greed, misjudgment, politics—but concludes: Ultimately, it was the will of the Lord. He initially refers to Krishna indirectly—as “He”—not because he doubts, but because devotees often hesitate to directly associate the Lord with painful events.

Similarly, in the Ramayana, when Draupadi is dishonored, Krishna protects her with an unending cloth. But we do not say Krishna became Dushasana. There’s a difference between Krishna’s will and Krishna’s sanction. Nothing can happen without Krishna’s sanction, but not everything that happens is Krishna’s will in the sense of desire.

Now, what can we practically take from this?

Let’s use the acronym ACD:

• A – Accept what cannot be changed.
  • Our minds often get trapped in the “what ifs”—What if I had done this? What if they had said that? These can become endless and pointless.
• C – Change what can be changed.
  • Sometimes acceptance doesn’t mean passivity. If something can be changed, we must do our duty and act.
• D – Discern between the two.
  • And this is the real challenge. When do we act, and when do we surrender?

Srila Prabhupada beautifully exemplified this. When so many challenges came—poverty, resistance, ill health—he didn’t just accept passively. He discerned: What is Krishna’s will here? And then he acted powerfully, establishing the Hare Krishna movement worldwide.

So in summary:

• The context of this Bhagavatam section is divine upheaval and the search for meaning.
• The implication is that not all problems are meant to be fought; some are meant to be accepted as Krishna’s will.
• The takeaway is to develop discernment—to know when to fight and when to surrender—and to remember that even in adversity, Krishna is with us, guiding us.

When we accept that what has happened is the will of the Lord, that acceptance stops the endless “what ifs.”
Okay, it has happened. It is the Lord’s will.
That acceptance brings closure. It enables us to move forward.

However, does that mean everything bad that happens should be accepted as the will of the Lord?
Should we never try to counter it?

It’s not that simple.

The same Lord Rama who accepted his exile as the will of destiny—daiva—did not accept Sita’s abduction in the same way. He didn’t say, “Oh, this too is destiny, let me just tolerate it.” No. He took action. He worked tirelessly to find Sita—despite being in exile, with no army or resources. He built alliances, searched across the land, and eventually fought and defeated Ravana.

He could have said, “Well, I had a wife, I lost my wife. This must be the Lord’s will.” But he didn’t. Why?

Because in that situation, his sense of dharma told him: “It is my duty to protect my wife.”

So yes, acceptance is one aspect of being aligned with God’s will—but it’s not the only aspect. Why not?

Let’s consider this carefully.

If we picture ourselves here in the world, and God above us, then one form of God’s will is what happens to us. But Krishna’s will is not meant to function only around us or upon us. It is also meant to function through us.

It is not just that what happens to us is God’s will, but sometimes what happens through us is also God’s will.

That means: sometimes, Krishna may want us to accept a situation.
But sometimes, Krishna may want us to resist or change that situation.

So just because something has come into our life as the result of destiny doesn’t automatically mean we’re meant to passively accept it. We may accept that “this is the current situation,” but how we respond to it is a different matter altogether.

Here’s another way to look at it:
We are here. Behind us is the past, and ahead of us is the future. But the human mind often operates in the most unhealthy way.

We treat the past as if it was the domain of free will—
“If only I had done this… if only she hadn’t done that…”
And we treat the future as if it is the domain of destiny—
“What if I get cancer? What if I lose my job? What if something terrible happens?”

This is an inverted and disempowering way to live.

Instead, we need to flip it:

• See the past as the domain of destiny—it has already happened, it cannot be changed.
• See the future as the domain of free will—it is open, and our actions can shape it.

Let’s understand this with an example from the Mahabharata.

Before the war begins, Vyasa comes to Dhritarashtra, along with many other sages, and pleads:
“Stop your son. Make peace with the Pandavas. Or your whole dynasty will be destroyed.”

Dhritarashtra, unwilling to act, takes shelter of a so-called spiritual excuse. He says:
“If it is the will of destiny that my dynasty be destroyed, who am I, a mere mortal, to stop it?”

Have you heard the term rationalize?

It means: telling rational lies—we use logic and philosophy not to seek the truth, but to justify our inaction or errors.

For example:
A husband promises his wife to quit smoking. She walks into his office and sees smoke everywhere. He says, “Oh no, I wasn’t smoking. I just wanted to warm up the room for you.”

That’s rationalization.

Or say, someone forgets to bring prasadam for a friend. When asked, they reply, “Actually, I think Krishna wants you to fast today.”

That’s not realization—that’s rationalization.

So Dhritarashtra was rationalizing:
“What can I do? It’s destiny.”

At that point, Vyasa becomes very serious and says:
“O King, it is very difficult to know what destiny is. But what is within our reach is our duty. Focus on your dharma.”

Vyasa doesn’t deny that destiny exists—but emphasizes that our focus should be on what is our responsibility now.

Interestingly, after the war, the same two characters—Vyasa and Dhritarashtra—have another conversation. Dhritarashtra is overwhelmed with grief: all hundred of his sons are dead.

Now Vyasa tells him:
“Don’t lament. This war was destiny. The Pandavas are demigods. Duryodhana and others were demonic beings who had descended to earth. This was a cosmic arrangement.”

So the question is—was the war destiny or not?

We don’t know. Even Krishna tried to avoid the war. He went as a peace messenger. But war still happened.

What does this mean for us?

When we are in the middle of a crisis, we don’t know if it is destiny or not. So our focus should not be: “Is this destiny?”
Instead, our focus should be: “What is my duty right now?”

That’s a powerful and practical principle.

Let’s say a king has authority and power to prevent war, but he doesn’t use it. The war happens, and later he says, “Oh, it was destiny.”
That’s not philosophy—that’s negligence.

If we’re careless or irresponsible, and something bad happens, we cannot cover it up with, “Well, maybe it was meant to be.”

Philosophy must be used not to escape responsibility, but to understand it.

Let’s also remember: philosophy is not just about knowledge (jñānam)—it’s also about purpose (jñeya – what we aim to know, and jñāna-gamya – what knowledge should lead us to).

In the Bhagavatam, Hiranyakashipu performs austerities with the aim of becoming powerful enough to kill Vishnu.

The soul is eternal—that’s correct philosophy. But he misuses that truth to pursue eternal enmity, not eternal love.

That’s a complete misuse of philosophy.

The correct use of spiritual knowledge is not to fuel our ego, justify our vengeance, or excuse our inaction—but to help us grow in love for Krishna, and act according to dharma.

So in summary:

• Accepting the will of the Lord is not the same as being passive.
• Sometimes the Lord’s will is that we fight, not freeze.
• We may not always know what destiny is, but we can always ask: What is my dharma in this moment?
• Don’t use spirituality to rationalize failure or neglect.
• Use it to find strength, clarity, and responsibility.

So the point is: we cannot separate philosophy from the purpose of philosophy.

Ultimately, what is the purpose of philosophy? It is to help us:

• do dharma,
• do seva,
• practice bhakti,
• and ultimately move closer to Krishna.

Yes, anyone can take any philosophical concept and use it to justify anything. But the question is:
“Is this philosophy taking me closer to Krishna?”
“Is it helping others come closer to Krishna?”

That is the real test. That’s why, for us, the principle is to accept what is favorable and reject what is unfavorable for bhakti.

Let me share a practical example.

I wrote a book titled Demystifying Reincarnation. Once, after giving a seminar on reincarnation in America—which was a more scientific kind of talk—a young man came up to me and said, “Can you pray for me?”

I was a bit surprised. I said, “What do you want me to pray for?”

He said, “I’m in love with a girl. We’ve been trying for 2–3 years, but neither my parents nor hers are agreeing. So… can you please pray that I can marry her in my next life?”

Now, see what happened here. The knowledge of the soul, which is meant to raise us to the spiritual platform, is being used to extend a material attachment into the next life. Instead of thinking about our eternal relationship with Krishna, we are reinforcing temporary relationships at the bodily level.

This is what happens when knowledge is used to defeat the purpose of knowledge.

So yes, we can speak about destiny, daiva, Krishna’s will, etc. But what truly matters is:
“What is my duty in this situation?”
“Is this decision taking me closer to Krishna, or away from Him?”

Let’s consider Srila Prabhupada’s example.

Before he went to America, Prabhupada tried preaching in India for decades. People weren’t taking his words seriously. He wasn’t getting followers or support.

His spiritual master had told him: “Even if no one comes to hear you, speak to the walls.” Prabhupada could have thought, “Maybe this is Krishna’s will—that I just speak to the walls for the rest of my life.”

He could have resigned himself to that.
But did he? No.

Prabhupada accepted the past—yes—but he didn’t stop pursuing the future. He remained peaceful about the past, but purposeful about the future.

So for us, as devotees, this is a crucial lesson:

• With respect to the past, we need to be peaceful.
  “Whatever happened—people did this, I did that—it’s done. It was Krishna’s will or destiny.”
  If we don’t make peace with the past, then there will always be a worthless war going on within us.

Yes, there are worthwhile wars to be fought, but if we are constantly fighting with the past—“They said this… I did that… they didn’t support me…”—then that war becomes pointless.

I’ve been traveling and meeting devotees around the world for many years now. I’ve seen something again and again:
So many sincere devotees are doing wonderful services with enthusiasm, creativity, and dedication—by the mercy of Srila Prabhupada, their gurus, and our sampradaya.

But here’s the tragic pattern I often observe:

The more energy a devotee has to do something wonderful for Krishna, the more likely they also carry resentment or bitterness toward those who didn’t support them.

• “I wanted to do this service, but my temple president didn’t support me…”
• “That leader didn’t understand my vision…”
• “This devotee blocked me…”

And it’s understandable—everyone feels hurt or unsupported at times. But here’s the irony:
In our effort to offer the world to Krishna, we’re letting our heart get filled with bitterness—so much so, that our heart becomes unofferable to Krishna.

We want to offer the world to Krishna—but Krishna also wants our heart.
And the way to offer the heart is often through offering the world—through service.

So ideally, we do both:

• Offer the world to Krishna through service
• Offer the heart to Krishna through surrender

But if we’re offering the world while holding back the heart—if our service is outwardly productive but inwardly resentful—then we’ve missed something.

That’s why Srila Prabhupada’s mood is so instructive.

Even when things weren’t working out, he was never bitter. He worked with his godbrothers, even when they didn’t support him. He tried various efforts for nearly 40 years with minimal results. But he didn’t get stuck in resentment.

He was peaceful about the past—but purposeful about the future.

So for us too:

• Let philosophy help us be peaceful about the past
  (“That was Krishna’s will. It happened. I accept it.”)
• But let bhakti inspire us to be purposeful about the future
  (“I have a purpose—to serve Krishna—and I will keep going, no matter what.”)

When Srila Prabhupada boarded the Jaladuta, what did he have?
No money, no followers, no institutional support. But he had one thing:
The unwavering desire to serve Krishna.
And that was enough.

So destiny helps us come to peace with the past, but bhakti keeps us purposeful about the future.

Let me conclude with one final framework I like to call A-C-T:

• A: Accept – Accept the situation. Don’t fight endlessly with what cannot be changed.
• C: Contemplate – Reflect deeply. What does Krishna want me to do now?
• T: Transform – Based on that reflection, transform something:
  • Sometimes, we can transform the world around us.
  • Sometimes, we can transform our corner of the world.
  • Sometimes, we can only transform our consciousness.

Which of these to do depends on the situation.

Sometimes, service requires us to fight and change the situation.
Sometimes, it requires us to wait, to be patient, and let Krishna change things in due course.

But in every case, a devotee never loses the sense of purpose.
“Whatever the situation, I will serve Krishna.”

Let’s consider:

• Prahlada Maharaj – He was purposeful, yet his way of purposefulness was to accept the situation and remember Krishna. He didn’t pick up weapons, but he didn’t forget Krishna either.
• Arjuna, on the other hand, was also purposeful—but for him, dharma meant fighting. He didn’t accept the injustice silently—Krishna told him to counter it.

So different devotees respond differently based on their dharma, their role, and Krishna’s will for them.

And for us too, the key is not just to ask, “Is this God’s will?”
But to ask,
“What does Krishna want me to do now? And how can I offer my heart through this situation?”

Understanding Krishna’s Role in Adversity – A Balanced Perspective

Let’s take the example of Arjuna. At the end of the Bhagavad-gita, Arjuna doesn’t just surrender to Krishna in a passive way. His surrender is active. He accepts the responsibility to change the situation of adharma that is present around him.

So, sometimes, serving the Lord may mean saying, “I can’t do anything about this situation; let me simply focus on practicing bhakti peacefully.”
And sometimes, it may mean saying, “It’s my responsibility to take action and fix this.”

Now, how do we decide between these two responses?

Let’s be clear: both Prahlada and Arjuna are great devotees. It’s not that one is greater and the other lesser. Their choices were guided by two things:

1. Guna – Our disposition or nature
2. Karma – Our position or responsibility

Let’s understand this with a simple example.

Suppose we’re in charge of the kitchen and we’ve prepared prasadam for 30 people—but suddenly, 70 people show up. Can we just say, “It’s destiny, what can I do?”
No! If we’ve taken that responsibility, we need to act. Maybe we make extra kichdi, or arrange something quickly.

Now, someone who is not officially responsible but has a service attitude might say, “Oh, I have some food at home, I’ll go get it.” That’s great too! But the primary duty falls on the one who holds the position.

So, both our guna and karma help determine how we should respond.

Krishna tells Arjuna in the Gita that not acting can itself be wrong. If there’s a riot and the police simply stand aside peacefully while chaos unfolds, they can’t say, “I didn’t do anything.” That’s exactly the problem! They were meant to do something.

If someone doesn’t want to act, that’s fine—but then, don’t take that position of responsibility.

So, if we’ve accepted a role, then we must also accept the responsibility that comes with it.

Take the case of Sita and Jatayu. When Ravan was abducting Sita, she saw Jatayu and called out to him. Although she knew Jatayu was old and unlikely to stop Ravan, she still said, “Please don’t fight him—just inform Rama.”

But Jatayu couldn’t just watch. He thought, “How can I live with myself if I see Sita, like my daughter, being abducted and I do nothing?” So, despite his age and weakness, he fought Ravan with everything he had. He lost—but not without trying his best.

Jatayu wasn’t officially appointed Sita’s protector, nor was he a close relative. But his heart was in the mood of protection. He felt a personal responsibility and responded according to his guna and karma.

So here’s the concluding reflection:

When a difficult situation comes into our life, we can accept that it is Krishna’s will. But how we respond to that situation—that is our responsibility. Two devotees in the same situation may respond in entirely different ways:

• One may say, “This is Krishna’s will. I won’t interfere.”
• Another may say, “Fixing this is my service to Krishna. I must act.”

Both are valid, if done with the right mood.

However, while trying to serve Krishna, we must be careful not to forget Krishna. Sometimes, we get so caught in fixing the situation that we become anxious, angry, or bitter:

• “Why isn’t Krishna helping me?”
• “Why aren’t the devotees cooperating?”

But Krishna doesn’t always fix situations through us. Sometimes He may fix them without us, or not fix them at all because He has a higher plan.
The key is: Don’t become bitter in the name of being responsible.

Take Srila Prabhupada’s example.

• In Jhansi, when there was a conspiracy to take the land from him, he accepted it as Krishna’s will and moved on.
• In Juhu, when a similar conspiracy happened, he didn’t accept defeat—he fought tooth and nail.

In both cases, he remained fixed in devotion to Krishna.

So today, I’ve been discussing the topic:

“Understanding Krishna’s Role in Adversity.”

Let me summarize with a framework I call CIT and ACT.

CIT Framework

C – Context:
Sometimes, scripture tells us to accept adversity as Krishna’s will. Like in the Bhagavatam, Brahma tells the devatas, “This is Krishna’s arrangement.”

What should we take from that?

ACT Framework

1. A – Accept:
   • Whatever has happened is sanctioned by Krishna.
   • Terms like daiva, kaala, or Bhagavan point to the same reality—Krishna’s will is behind the events of life.
   • Acceptance means making peace with the past.
   • And that means stopping the endless “what ifs”:
     “If only I had done this… If only they hadn’t done that…”
2. C – Contemplate:
   • Krishna’s will is not just about what happens to us.
   • It’s also about what Krishna wants to do through us.
   • Ask:
     “What is my dharma here?”
     “How can I best serve Krishna in this situation?”
   • We may want to change the world around us, and that’s good. But at the very least, let’s change our heart.
     • Ideally, offer both your heart and your service to Krishna.
     • But even if the world isn’t changing, ensure your heart becomes more Krishna conscious.
3. T – Transform:
   • Sometimes we transform the world around us.
   • Sometimes we transform just our corner of the world.
   • Sometimes all we can do is transform our own consciousness.

Examples:

3. Prahlad Maharaj accepted the situation and remembered Krishna.
4. Arjuna chose to change the situation through battle.
5. Prabhupada accepted Jhansi, resisted Juhu—but remained steady in devotion throughout.

So we evaluate based on our guna (nature) and karma (role):

• Am I meant to act or wait?
• Should I speak up or stay silent?
• Can I fix the situation, or should I grow through it?

Conclusion:

We should be:

• Peaceful about the past
• Purposeful about the future

By doing so, we remain instruments of Krishna’s will, without becoming bitter or disconnected from Krishna in the process.

So let’s not just ask,
“Is this Krishna’s will?”
Let’s also ask,
“How can I serve Krishna through this situation?”

That is the path of mature bhakti.

Thank you very much.
Hare Krishna.