The ancient Indians (specifically the Vaishnavites) conceived the avatar as the incarnation of the Divine (or Self, to wit: the Vaishnavites as Vishnu, most of the rest as Brahman) within the particular, hence the relative. It was the avatar’s job to translate (and therefore represent) the functions (or state) of the Divine, i.e. of the absolute Self, later defined as sat-chit-ananda, or the means thereto, into a particular locality (and time) for the benefit of the locals so that the latter could adjust their actions on-line to the Divine an, by emulating and perfecting the divine functions, achieve release (Sanskrit: moksha).
However, the fact that the avatar needed to appear in relative time and form meant that as soon as things changed, and they changed for the very fact that he had appeared and guided the locals towards himself (representing the Divine in the relative), the avatar’s means became redundant, save for those who would not and could not change.
Changing circumstances called forth a new avatar and who retranslated the divine function for those changed circumstances in order to bring the new generation up to speed.
If, however, an avatar’s influence was so strong that it attracted a vast following, his followers, having a vested interest in retaining him as their guru (and even more so the powerful and lucrative organisation (read: religious cult) created in his support), prevented the next avatar from appearing. For the next avatar (i.e. an formal or functional upgrade on the former) would have made their guru (that is to say, his relativised instruction about the functions of the absolute i.e. the Original Operating System of Creation) redundant. The fact that no new avatar appeared, or appeared and was ignored, eventually led to the decay and decline of the previous avatar’s (religious) culture and the culture in general. That’s what happened in India, and where a true spiritual (i.e. life giving) avatar has not appeared in centuries. Those that did appear, and there were many, chose to emerge in non-religious fields of human endeavour.
The avatar presents the fundamental - hence original – function (or parts thereof) of creation in everyday, hence localised terms, but in a completely original, hence unexpected way. He can do that because, having achieved release (i.e. moksha) from the new, relative circumstances (or conditions) and seen, merged with or experienced the Origin, he returns from the Origin (usually called the Divine or Self) straight back into those circumstances and which he transforms in the light of his experience of the Origin.
Consequently, the hallmark of an avatar is originality, that is to say, the wholly unexpected way in which he translates Divine Will (or necessity) for local consumption. He is, therefore, welcomed by those who want or need to change and rejected by those who don’t.
All avatars (often given the title ‘Babaji’) can be used as means of release (i.e. mokscha). A problem arises if a Jivanmukta (i.e. a released individual) who has used a past avatar as her exit vehicle decides to re-enter (the relative) to serve as an avatar. Because the exit gate (i.e. the avatar’s localised function perfected) operates as entry gate, the individual (read: pilgrim) who leaves via an avatar’s gate re-enters (i.e. the relative) via it, thereby failing to become a true (because formally wholly original) avatar in her own right. Her function may be holy, but it’s out of date, therefore inefficient.
If the Jivanmukta
escapes via her own gate, i.e. by creating and then realizing her own True
Self, she can renter as a true avatar since the gate is her creation, therefore
wholly original, therefore fully functional.