Barack Obama’s lucky charms; among them a small murti of Hanuman.

Quite interesting to have a USA president-elect who carries a small Hanuman everywhere with him ‘for luck.’ As all Vaishnavas know, those who carry Hanuman will be carried by Hanuman when they most need him. Apparently Barack Obama heard the stories of Hanuman from his father.

Interesting also that Mr. Obama senior was from the small town of Kisumu in Kenya where there is a temple to Hanuman that’s been there for a very long time. I used to live at that temple back in 1979. Small world.

Small world - and very delicately balanced. We pray that all good fortune and illumination be showered upon Senator Obama in the difficult years ahead.

Continuing in the line of my previous posts, here are some more thoughts on dysfunctional cultural aspects of ISKCON.

Monasticism and Temples

We still have far too much stress on monasticism in our Society. Gurus and GBCs are mostly sannyasis. What leaders do is reflected on the society and all its members. When so many of our leaders are monks, living a temple-based lifestyle, the focus tends towards that kind of lifestyle and habits – which is very, very far removed from what over 95% of the members of the Movement are living, and totally removed from what mainstream society is living.

It’s old news that ISKCON is now a congregation based society, not the confederation of temple ashrams it was in its first 20 years, but this change still hasn’t reached the way we think and act. The sannyasis and temple residents are still very much the central focus of our society. The sooner we have more grihastha gurus and GBCs, the better. (By the way, here is an interesting discussion on the issue of sannyasa vs. grihastha gurus: http://www.prabhupada.org/rama/?p=4375.) The general perception held by an ISKCON member is that a sannyasi in inherently superior to a grihastha as a leader and guru. Yet, in our scriptures we see that grihasthas are naturally the gurus and administrative leaders of society.

Temples are a wonderful place for devotees to get together to worship the Lord and for Krishna-katha, but may not be the best place for bramacharis(inis) to be trained up or for newcomers to get to know KC.

In Brazil, Dhanvantari Swami has been running a Hare Krishna Seminary for the past 9 years, where men and women (young and old) spend an intense 9 months being trained as devotees, among other things by studying for the bhakti-shastri exam. It’s not a temple, it’s jut a seminary, allowing the full focus to be on their training. It’s a wonderful experience for the participants. In a temple, brahmacaris(inis) can get too involved with cutting vegetables, cleaning, fund-raising, etc.

One of the most successful preaching programs in the world is run by Devamrta Swami in New Zealand. One of the key elements of his success is not having Deities as the central focus point of his centers. Instead his focus is on the guests. Everything is designed and geared up to convey KC to the guests in the most easily assimilated way possible. A regular Deity aratik in a temple is probably the least easily assimilated way to convey KC in a global western culture.

These examples indicate that an ISKCON less centered on the temple and Deity worship could be more effective.

I see a future where our temples can serve the community of those who have already accepted KC, but where we have other programs and places dedicated to exposing KC to the general public, and other places dedicated to those who wish to take time off their studies or careers to absorb themselves in KC training.

Prabhupada’s Disappearance Day was held at the Palace a few days ago.  I know there is now some fancy Sanskrit name for the occasion but I will probably never use it. I think that the next acharya will be someone who follows the preISKCON vaisnava tradition of using a liturgy in the local language, which in this case would be English.

While Prabhupada succeeded in firmly establishing a beachhead in the English speaking world for Krishna Consciousness, the next stage will be to move it from being an anomaly to becoming more widespread.

Practically what is keeping the movement going now is a lot of participation from 1st generation immigrants from India, and that will only last about a generation — their kids will be Westernized and then we will be back to having to make inroads into American culture in any case.

To make it accessible it has to be understandable to average people. Calling Prabhupada’s Disappearance Day some Sanskrit term is a step in the wrong direction, IMHO.

Before we threw the flower petals in the ritual, there was a long Sanskrit prayer that I basically didn’t know what it meant. That is when I was thinking how much better it would have been if it was in English so everybody could understand it.  I was wondering if even the Hindu guests had any clue what it was trying to convey.

I could get the emotional content, and sure, if I really wanted to, I could go look up the translation, but most people aren’t going to take that trouble and the use of Sanskrit is exclusionary, which makes it ineffective preaching IMHO.  I would guess the under representation of Americans in most ISKCON temples could be taken as proof for my premise.

Anyway, the  current manifestation of ISKCON probably lacks the will to initiate this but I feel confident that eventually it’ll happen.

I feel clever,
just writing Calculus at the top of the page.
Even though it’s not real,
a brief,
dizzying diversion into logic,
sandwiched tightly between noun clauses and maxims of communication.
I smile inside, suddenly smelling my old classroom once again,
Sharp leaded tang of fresh pencil sharpenings,
and apple cores.
Staring at the unfriendly sheets of empty squared paper,
head pounding,
churning cold numbers that refuse to co-operate.
Fractions fold their arms, unwilling to help,
Equations turn their backs,
and even the beautiful angles turn a blind eye,
to my head on desk,
hot, bitter tears.
They splash onto the pages, wetting the formulae,
making them momentarily human,
making them share the pain of not understanding.
They know for a moment, the years of red penned notes -
the ’see me’, and the ‘Don’t understand your method here’.
The empty years of accumulated noughts
and lines of crosses, interspersed with a rare tick

I remember as I write the word Calculus,
letters curving confidently above the neatly spaced, horizontal lines.
And though my head swims a little, as the teacher explains,
struggling to communicate abstraction to the roomful of blank stares,
I enjoy the momentary rush of fleeting numbers,
and the feeling,
just the feeling,
of being clever.

Gunavana Prabhu sharing some of his many experiences with Srila Prabhupada.

Vishalini Mataji glorifying her spiritual master!

Jaya Srila Prabhupada!

Guna garlanded all the devotees with a garland that was once around His Divine Grace’s neck.

Jaya Sri Sri Gaura Nitai!!!!!!!

Divine Biology

“…the hills and mountains are the stacks of His bones.”
-Shrimad Bhagavatam 2.1.32

“…the rivers are the veins of the gigantic body…”
-Shrimad Bhagavatam 2.1.33

“the trees are the hairs of His body…”
-Shrimad Bhagavatam 2.1.33

“…the clouds which carry water are the hairs on His head…”
-Shrimad Bhagavatam 2.1.34

“…the terminations of days or nights are His dress”
-Shrimad Bhagavatam 2.1.34

Idolatry

Then…
Exodus 32-New American Standard Bible

(1)Now when the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, the people assembled about Aaron and said to him, “Come, make us a god who will go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up from the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” (2) Aaron said to them, “Tear off the gold rings which are in the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me.” (4) He took this from their hand, and fashioned it with a graving tool and made it into a molten calf; and they said, “This is your god, O Israel, who brought you up from the land of Egypt.” (5) Now when Aaron saw this, he built an altar before it; and Aaron made a proclamation and said, “Tomorrow shall be a feast to the LORD.” (7) Then the LORD spoke to Moses, “Go down at once, for your people, whom you brought up from the land of Egypt, have corrupted themselves. (8) “They have quickly turned aside from the way which I commanded them. They have made for themselves a molten calf, and have worshiped it and have sacrificed to it and said, ‘This is your god, O Israel, who brought you up from the land of Egypt!’” (10)”Now then let Me alone, that My anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them; and I will make of you a great nation.” (11) Then Moses entreated the LORD his God, and said, “O LORD, why does Your anger burn against Your people whom You have brought out from the land of Egypt with great power and with a mighty hand? (14) So the LORD changed His mind about the harm which He said He would do to His people. (15) Then Moses turned and went down from the mountain with the two tablets of the testimony in his hand, tablets which were written on both sides; they were written on one side and the other. (19) It came about, as soon as Moses came near the camp, that he saw the calf and the dancing; and Moses’ anger burned, and he threw the tablets from his hands and shattered them at the foot of the mountain. (20) He took the calf which they had made and burned it with fire, and ground it to powder, and scattered it over the surface of the water and made the sons of Israel drink it. (26) then Moses stood in the gate of the camp, and said, “Whoever is for the LORD, come to me!” And all the sons of Levi gathered together to him. (33) The LORD said to Moses, “Whoever has sinned against Me, I will blot him out of My book. (35) Then the LORD smote the people, because of what they did with the calf which Aaron had made.

Now…
http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2008/10/30/145245/63/817/647006

(Thanks to Rupa for the link.)

So went the song the children sang this morning - gathered in an excitable clump on the patterned carpet. I spent the day at One World Montessori School in Hammersmith, West London, as part of the work placement I’m on right now at children’s speech therapy clinic. It was somewhat of a welcome change from the other tasks I’ve been doing, though my job here - sticking like glue to a young boy with severe learning disabilites, poses a huge challenge. He is prone to tantrums, has a very short attention span, and a very unusual (but sometimes charming) fascination with long, well kept hair.

The placement has been hard work so far, in the way of not doing much. I’ve mostly been observing - but after sitting for almost six hours straight on a  toddler size woven plastic chair, as child after child comes into the clinic, my brain (and lower back) start to scream. It has been interesting though. This is the first time I’m working in London, having the opportunity to interact with a whole new sector of society. These people are wealthy enough to afford private therapy, and often private education for their children. They lovingly give them some of the most extravagantly grandiose names I’ve come across. This week I’ve met two Raphaels, Christabel, Olympia - the list goes on. It’s a world of mothers, cashmere coated and concerned, ushering their children in and listening attentively to them as they pronounce their d’s and t’s. Some are less attentive, but no less well off. One mother unashamedly pored through a fashion magazine while her son refused to complete any task, and threw his chair across the room. Many are Jewish - almost a given in this part of London, which adds another interesting dimension.

This placement is just one of the pieces that make up this jumbled puzzle of winter months. The days are depressingly short - dark until late morning and sundown by five, and the cloud cover has barely broken for the past week and a half. Life is a whirl of coursework deadlines, working, driving back and forth to violin and dance lessons, writing essays for university, the temple newsletter, planning the great unknown (life after Graduation), making and breaking appointments, obligations, festivals, trying to chant rounds in a way that feels less like I’m trying to practice spiritual life in a chicken shed (a pretty accurate description of the Harrison household chaos level from 5-9 am daily), training, walking, driving, driving, more driving, trying to speed read textbooks on semantics and Relevance Theory (don’t ask)…..ahhhhhh. I wish the days of my week were a bit more dippy-do right now.

Perhaps I should just go to sleep instead of sitting here at 10.30 at night, uselessly spouting to the proverbial four walls.

We born

We live

We die

Our bodies

Returns to dust

This makes dirt

This makes things grow

Along comes some water

And makes mud

So be careful

What you step in

It could be

My life.