Lord Shiva Likes His Name

During the satsang on Mahashivaratri, we chanted the mantra Om Namah Shivaya. Again and again, we repeated the Lord’s name. Om Namah Shivaya. “I bow to Lord Shiva, to the auspicious one, to the Self of all and the Self within.”

Gurumayi explained to us that the Lord likes his name, that he is very pleased when we call to him, using his name. I had a sudden recollection, when Gurumayi said this, of the stories that I had read growing up—the epic tales from ancient India, many of which were originally recorded in the Puranas and in other scriptural texts. There were innumerable accounts of people in yugas past who would journey to some remote mountaintop and perform tapasya, austerities, for months and years on end. As they did so, they repeated the name of their chosen deity—often Lord Shiva—with one-pointed focus. Eventually, the Lord would appear before them, pleased with their worship, and he would grant them a boon of their choosing.

I loved reading these stories, and yet a question would linger in my mind. It seemed to me that more often than not, the characters in these stories would pray to Lord Shiva because they wanted something from him. Sometimes what they wished for was noble and virtuous—the protection of dharma, the upliftment of humanity. Sometimes it was a more immediate and personal goal they had in mind. And sometimes the person praying was very obviously an embodiment of avarice; they were bent on amassing their own wealth and power. The asuras, the demons, sought out Lord Shiva’s blessings just as much as the devatas, the gods, and the people on earth did. Even Ravana, the demon king around whose immoral actions much of the Ramayana unfolds, was said to be a great devotee of Lord Shiva. His indomitable strength was largely the fruit of his intense tapasya performed for the Lord.

So I would think, “How could it be that the Lord—who is all-knowing and supremely detached—grants all of these individuals what they wish, regardless of who they are, what they have done, and what intentions they have? Is it ‘just’ because they had repeated his name?”

What I was not quite understanding, at least not intellectually, was the nature of the Lord’s compassion. Lord Shiva is Dayalu, the merciful one. He is Bhaktavatsala, the one who is tender-hearted toward his devotees. He is Ashutosh, the one who is easily pleased, who responds swiftly to those who pray to him in earnest. When we call out to the Lord, when we say his name, our shortcomings become secondary. The Lord will come to meet us. He is the Self within, the presence of God in our own being. We do not need to atone for every single one of our past mistakes before we experience this divine presence. We do not need to become a more “improved” version of ourselves to be worthy of God’s love. We just need to remember. God is always here, right here, with us, and without judgment.

This is not to say that we are not responsible for our actions. Nor am I suggesting that we should not try to do good in our lives, that we should not endeavor to be kind, generous, and considerate, that we should not extend care to our planet and its inhabitants. Gurumayi teaches us that it’s our duty as human beings to do exactly this. Even the scriptural stories tend to include some caveat that allows for righteousness to be maintained in the world. The Lord might grant a boon to an asura, but if that demon allows their vices to go unchecked—their greed, their pride—then, without fail, they will meet their end.

The point is, the Lord’s compassion—and our ability to experience that compassion—exist on a plane that transcends right and wrong. Moreover, the scriptures tell us that the Lord’s name is inherently purifying. To repeat this name is an act of merit in itself—one that creates and magnifies auspiciousness. There are whole chapters of the Shiva Purana dedicated to glorifying Lord Shiva’s name. The sage Suta, who narrates one of these chapters, even proclaims that “the power of Lord Shiva’s name in destroying sins is greater than the ability of people to commit them.” He describes the Lord’s name as an “axe” that cuts down such sins, as “nectar” that soothes those “scorched by the conflagration of sins,” and as the means to “perfect liberation.”¹

In the satsang on Mahashivaratri, Gurumayi said simply that the Lord likes his name, and that he is pleased when we call to him. For me, this one statement—sweet and intriguing as it is—has illumined so many possible avenues for contemplation. So many ideas to consider. So many associations to make and to explore further.

Therefore, I am wondering: If you’ve had a chance to contemplate this teaching, what has come up for you? What do you think about when you hear that Lord Shiva likes his name?