Compunction

Are you familiar with the word ‘compunction’? According to the Oxford English Dictionary, compunction means a “pricking or stinging of the conscience or heart; regret or uneasiness of mind consequent on sin or wrongdoing; remorse, contrition.” Compunction is not, then, a particularly welcome feeling. However, in much the same way as the Radha Soami masters have taught us to view loneliness as a gift from God, the eleventh-century mystic Nikitas Stithatus encourages us to view compunction as a blessing from God. In The Philokalia, an anthology of selected works of Christian mysticism – a spiritual tradition emphasising inner prayer, silence and listening to God – Stithatus states:

Nothing inspires the soul with longing for God and love for one’s fellow beings as humility, compunction and pure prayer…. Humility engenders compunction and compunction engenders humility … it is as if these were strung together by a single grace, linked by the unbreakable bond of the Spirit.

Compunction, as Stithatus states, begins with God’s grace. Without grace it is impossible for us to break free of our self-satisfied, defensive attitudes, and to see ourselves as we really are. It’s his grace that pricks our conscience and forces us to acknowledge that we could do better; the remorse and regret that ensues becomes a fuel, powering action in the right direction. Seen from this angle, compunction is multilayered, constituting three distinct dimensions: the realization of a wrong, regret, and a desire to remedy the wrong. So, instead of ignoring or burying compunction, such a feeling is to be welcomed for it reminds us of the need to fulfil our duty to the Master.

How compunction engenders humility
Compunction prevents remorse over wrongdoing from turning into guilt. This is significant because, unlike compunction, guilt is useless. Although it is an acknowledgment of wrongful action, guilt is self-absorbing and debilitating, precipitating feelings of shame and self-hatred. Compunction, on the other hand, uses remorse to change direction: “Ah, I’ve taken a wrong turn. Let me do the right thing and get back on track again.” Whereas guilt encourages self-pity because the cause of wrongdoing is attributed to one’s weakness and limitations, compunction compels us to get up, dust ourselves off, and to focus on the opportunity afforded to rise above our human frailties. Put differently, guilt encourages self-loathing and overemphasizes the ways in which we’re deficient, whereas compunction directs attention at our Master, reinvigorating our determination to please him. This, in a nutshell, is the compunction-engendering humility Stithatus describes.

How humility engenders compunction
Rick Warren, a Christian pastor, asserted, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” It’s an insightful subtlety, and particularly suited to illuminating how humility engenders compunction. The practice of meditating heightens our sensitivity to the perfect One, which in turn, begins to engender a natural humility from within. If we’re attentive to this, we’ll acknowledge that we are not so great, important, or knowledgeable as we’d like to think. Instead of viewing ourselves as superior in some way, and therefore justified in criticizing or dominating others, humility helps us to see the best in others. This triggers a more profound realization still: of how spiritually bereft we are and how much we need the Master. Given the stranglehold of the ego, we could not, by our thinking alone, arrive at this insight. Compunction and humility are, as Stithatus noted, inextricably linked, wrought together by “a single grace” from the divine. Maharaj Sawan Singh makes a similar point in Philosophy of the Masters, Vol. III, noting that humility is powerful specifically because it is a manifestation of the power of Shabd:

Humility is not weakness. It is such a powerful thing that all the powers of the world have to bow to it…. No one can defeat a prideless man; as behind his humility is acting the secret power of the Lord.

Invoking grace to engender the type of humility described by the Great Master requires an initial level of humility from us first. As he explains:

He alone can derive full benefit from a saint who goes to him in humility. He who is full of pride of his wisdom seldom reaches him, and if he does so by mistake, what will he gain? If you want to be admitted to the court of saints, go with the cup of humility without any pride, as it is only when the cup is empty that the flagon bends towards it. If the cup is full to the brim, how can it contain anything more? Respectful humility is accordingly very necessary.

The necessity of going to a mystic with an open heart and a desire to learn about spirituality for its own end is illustrated by an incident recounted in Tales of the Mystic East. The tale is from the Mahabharata – an ancient Sanskrit poem about a long, bloody war between two opposing groups of cousins. After their victory, Lord Krishna advised the Pandava brothers to atone for their violence by performing a religious ceremony called the yagya. Success, however, depended on the Pandavas hearing a bell ringing in the heavens. Despite inviting holy men from the length and breadth of the country, the bell in heaven failed to ring. Coming to the Pandavas’ aid once more, Lord Krishna informed them that they’d forgotten to invite a holy man of low caste to the yagya. Keen to rectify the wrong, Queen Draupadi cast her pride aside, walking barefoot all way to the sage’s hermitage to persuade him to attend the yagya.The sage finally agreed to accompany Draupadi. When food was served to him, Draupadi thought that being of a low caste he could not appreciate the delicious dishes she had prepared with her own hands. When the bell still did not ring, everyone was perplexed. The Pandavas begged Lord Krishna to tell them what was standing in the way. Lord Krishna replied “Ask Draupadi. It is her mind and it’s arrogant thoughts that are responsible.” The moment Draupadi realized her mistake, she humbled her mind and prayed to be forgiven for her pride and egotism. And in that very instant, the bells in heaven rang out.

True compunction and genuine humility lead to what Nikitas Stithatus calls “pure prayer,” which in turn leads to selflessness. That is the state we reach when we challenge the ego by facing reality, adjust our behaviour accordingly, and beseech our merciful Master to help us. In Philosophy of the Masters, Vol. III, Maharaj Sawan Singh puts it like this:

Ceaseless effort to make our life pure and truthful is true prayer. This draws us to the mercy of the Lord, and his grace and limitless blessings then fulfil the sincere and pure desires of our heart.