Theology 7372, Fall 2009

“Mother’s First Love”, Mother Theresa’s Home for the Dying and Destitute

Kolkata is a mess of contradictions. For instance – Kalighat. Kalighat is the temple to the goddess Kali, who is the manifestation of the destructive power of the god Shiva. Shiva is the creator of the universe, but his dark side and the side that can destroy all things is called Kali. I find it interesting that the destructive force is feminine – but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, the Kalighat temple is insanity. It’s the only temple that still accepts human sacrifice as a way to appease the diety and the best way I can describe the temple is that it’s a circus of color and prayer and insense. However, right next to it – literally sharing a wall – is Mother Theresa’s Home for the Dying. Talk about juxtapositions. The home is a sanctuary for people. There is only limited medical care – if you are a patient there, you are terminal and there is no hope. And yet, as I stood in front of it that day, I felt nothing but hope. In the midst of the worship place to the goddess of destruction, a small woman stood up and said ‘no’. She said ‘no’ to the idea that humanity is simply playthings of the gods and that people who are dying are worth being discarded. She said no to the cycle of understanding that if you are poor, you deserve it.

She chose yes to hope and to grace and to dignity. She chose yes to believing that loving one person may not change the known universe, but that it makes a difference to that person. In the midst of overwhelming sadness, chaos and destruction, she choose yes to love. I cannot fathom that and yet know I must make the same decision. I must chose yes to hope and to love. I must.

everywhere a misionaries of charity house is, this statue will be too. mother saw her job as quenching the thirst of Jesus and her sisters do as well.

Here’s what I learned in India: just about anything you say about Hinduism is true. You say it’s a religion? Someone will agree. You say it’s not and it’s a cultural system? Someone will agree. You say it’s entirely about reincarnation? Someone will agree. You say it’s entirely about caste? Well, you get the picture.

(this is a bit of a long post, so I’m putting in a break here for those who could not care less.)

We read several books and articles before we left, but if I said that I understood Hinduism, I’d be lying. In order for me to feel like I’ve really blogged about India, I clearly need to address this beast which is interwoven with every moment of life there, but I am not super qualified to be explanatory. Because I am a full service blogger, I googled around and found these sources for anyone looking for a deeper explanation.

• Hinduism Today is a magazine available online. The site includes editorials and other such insight, including their “What is Hinduism” PDF which seems well done.
• I feel like About.Com is always a fairly reliable place to start and it appears that their article on Hinduism is no exception.
• From a religious tolerance website out of Canada, this also is a decent explanation.

As far as I can tell from readings, conversations and attending a few worship services, Hinduism is largely about practice, devotion (bhakti) and the way one orders their lives more than it is about having a particular belief system. A person will often worship the god(s) worshipped by their family, perhaps praying to some others for special occasions. The god worshipped may also be attached to the physical location where one lives. So, remember, Key to Hinduism #1: How you behave is more important than who you believe in. Especially because who you believe in is allowed to change. Not kidding.

This is key because of the concept of Dharma. Dharma is above diety and above sin, a completely separate thing. The chief concern is respecting others and giving them the freedom to grow in their own space and time. While sin breaks relationship with god (yes, there is a concept of sin), dharma breaks relationship with the universe. It is FAR MORE IMPORTANT to respect the universe than to be right in a conversation.

To put it another way – most Hindus are completely comfortable with theological dissonance. If I believe in Jesus, they’re thrilled for me, but that doesn’t mean they need to. I can be right and they can be right and those aren’t mutually exclusive concepts. This idea begs the question of the contributions of culture to psychological development, but that’s a different conversation. So, Key to Hinduism #2: Being in community is more important than being right.

Once we get past these two points, it gets murky. Even within these two points, it gets murky. Because for as many books as I read that convinced me of the community point, I can’t really understand how caste doesn’t violate that. India is both deeply communal and highly individual and I’m not positive how to articulate that.

However, as one of our tour guides told us, Hinduism is impossible to understand and easy to practice. Most Hindus have never read the basic Scriptures or have any idea of how many gods there are in the pantheon (3.3 million, give or take). They’re unaware of dissonance and frustration. They simply live their lives in the rhythms of the faith passed down to them from their ancestors. If Grandma worshipped Shiva, likelihood is that you do as well. Beyond that point, most people I met don’t analyze their faith. This, of course, is a stark contrast to our own faith system.

There is clearly more to talk about: karma and caste being the two chief. I have myraids of questions about the origins of the pantheon and the general treatment of women under Hinduism. And as I stated above: you’ll meet people who deeply disagree with me about all of the above. I am simply reporting it as I understand it and reserve the right to amend this observations. However, in the midst of the questions, there are points of respect. One cannot help – especially when traveling through Varanassi or attending a worship service anywhere in the country – but be impressed by the level of devotion and the way spiritually has wrapped through their lives. I do not have the same story and have much to learn in that area from persons who follow this system.

Up next? Cramming thousands of years of history into a blog post. Get excited.

Do you have seasons where you feel overwhelmed by the world? Moments where the stack of sadness in front of you completely obstructs the promise of hope? Today is one of those days for me. That stack of sadness is full of both specifics and generals but they all add up to cloud the hope and I find myself exhausted by it all. I read this quote this morning and wanted to share it. I’m going to embrace the divine chaos, breathe deeply and enjoy the ride. But embracing and breathing today also requires grieving. So I am leaning into that grief this afternoon – for families torn apart by conflict beyond their control, for cultures at war with themselves, for children who will never know safety and for women who will never chose their own paths.

But does enjoying the ride mean ignoring the brokenness? Does full participation in humanity require holding both sides of the spectrum in tension? To fully drink of joy, doesn’t it also require sitting in the sorrow and drinking deep of that as well? I think so. Especially because most of the people with whom we endeavor to do life with live lives full of each – deep sorrow, unspeakable joy and every emotion in between. Our placated answers simply will not suffice. To truly live requires grace, perseverance and a willingness to live in mess.

There’s a sister quote to this one, from Hunter S. Thompson, that says, “Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body,but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming — WOW– What a Ride!” I thought about that quote a lot when I was in India: what would it look like for me to love so deeply that I died thoroughly used up?

Lots of questions today, friends, and few answers. I’m in the process of crafting a few other posts around this topic, so keep your eyes peeled. I look forward to feedback and conversation.

kanchipuram was in the middle of a festival so it felt like a meeting had just let out. people EVERYWHERE.

Our time in Mamallapuram was short – although, to be fair, our time in each city was short. After arriving on Sunday night at the Ideal Beach Resort (which, trust me, was ideal), we took a bit of a death march down the beach into town so we could call home and check email. For me, it was the first time I got to check in with my parents. I know I’m a jetsetter-type and I have never chosen to live near my parents, but that does not mean I don’t love to hear their voices and crave hugs sometimes. Anyway, we then hiked back to the beach (during which I got to have a fantastic conversation with Michael) and settled in at the resort for a fantastic dinner.

The next day is one that goes down in history as “The Day I Got Engaged to Zach Levi Without Ever Meeting Him”. But before we get to that, let me say (in full knowledge that I need to type more about Hindusim): Hindu temples are where life is lived. In the same fashion as the rest of the country – there is no divide between sacred and secular. So, in the three temples we toured that day, we saw people eating their lunches, doing their homework and worshiping any number of gods. There aren’t really central worship times at most temples, so it’s constantly organized chaos as people swirl around you to find the shrines to their individual god. The first temple we went to was a temple to Shiva and we were escorted into an alcove to get prayed for and blessed by a priest. We went to two others that day, as well as some ancient ruins that were pretty rad.

Now, onto the photo tour! Tune in next time for Bangles, Sarrees and Kurtas, Oh My!: Or: Our Time in Hyderabad.

Cows. Everywhere.

This is our tour guide – whom we affectionately refer to as “Sindhu, Sindhu, Sindhu.” He’s demonstrating meditation position at the second temple we went to.

One of the crazy ancient sites we went to: this whole thing is carved out of one piece of rock. No, I’m not kidding.

Team upon our arrival at Ideal Beach Resort. We were greeted with flower necklaces, fresh lime sodas and bindi dots. We felt like heaven.

Walk down the beach next to the Bay of Bengal. No big deal.

Main temple in Kanchipuram – which is a suburb of Mamallapuram. Easily the biggest, most chaotic and one of the more fascinating temples we went to.

Team at Temple

Walked out of lunch to see elephants on parade. Once again, no big deal. (There is no place like India. No where.)

Also, Michael got to celebrate his birthday on the beach in India. Memories, eh?

Back in September, I made a significant decision in my life to pursue a healthier lifestyle. It’s not something I talk about publicly much – mostly because it has been a lifelong struggle and one associated with much emotional and physical pain. I’ve made several starts and stops before, but September marked a permanent choice to move forward. I began to eat healthier (who knew that made you feel better?!) and go to the gym (even hired a trainer!). Much progress has been made and there is much more to go.

However, yesterday, I bought and wore the smallest pair of trousers that I have ever bought for myself.

As I said above, the journey towards being a healthier person is not finished and will probably face more detours. I’m hoping it involves training for a 5K and continuing to discover new vegetarian meal options and the best way to cook artichokes. However, in the midst of all of that – I just wanted to take a moment and celebrate the victory. Thanks for celebrating with me.

I’ve talked about it before on this blog, but it deserves repeating – the musical Wicked is one of the most profound pieces of art I’ve experienced in the past ten years. I know that it’s cheeser and fluffly and one of the major songs is about being popular. Yes, I recognize that. I know that the costumes are insane and it’s got some typical random singing that turns off most people to musicals. I know all of that.

But it also never fails to make me cry.

I’ve now had the privilege of seeing it several times in several different cities. I’ve seen fantastic performances and so-so performances (I have my favorites and ones I judged), but the source material stands fantastic in spite of what the performers do with it.

There are various themes that I adore, so I’m going to. This isn’t a summary or a review of any particular performance. Some of these are major “spoilers,” so if you haven’t seen the show and plan to, don’t continue after the jump. If you have seen the musical, please feel free to continue on.

Point One: green girl gets cute boy

song: “As Long As You’re Mine”

This may seem cheeser to some of you, but I’d like to remind you that there are few women in the Western world (I’d argue none) that do not feel like the “green-skinned freak” on any given day. The idea that an entire musical celebrates the male lead choosing the outcast is honestly nothing short of revolutionary. After growing up with the Disney princess image of perfection and desirability, I cannot express to you how much I love that little girls now have at least one counter to that. Fiyero chooses Elphaba because she is strong and independent and stands up for what she believes in.

Point Two: critical thinking is required

“Where I come from,” the wizard tells Elphaba, “we believe all sorts of things that aren’t true. We call it history.” One of the major themes is that people in power are not always trustworthy and history is not always reliable. We must ask questions and seek truth, even if it demands we stand up to authority. In fact, one of my favorite lines ever only appeared in a London production that I saw, where Dr. Dillamond explains to Elphaba that the Emerald City isn’t actually green – the Wizard just required everyone to wear emerald colored glasses.

Point Three: friendship = life

“Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”

The longer I’m around this planet, the more I am convinced that life simply cannot be lived alone. We need people to push us and love us and give us roots and give us wings. We need to be changed for good. I quoted this to Sarah and Mike in their wedding toast and I meant it.

Point Four: everyone deserves a chance to fly

“I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game.”

There comes times in life when one must defy gravity. When Elphaba finds out that the man she was hanging all of her hopes on was a complete fraud, her response was to take matters into her own hands. The last moments of the first act, when Elphaba asserts her self-hood and that if the system is oppressive she will buck the system, never fails to make me cry.

Many of you have asked many wonderful questions about my time in India and I thank you for your comments and emails as I traveled. I’m glad the follow-along-blog was a good idea! In light of your questions and the fact that I have a 15 page reflection paper looming on my “to-do” list, I thought I’d start the process on here. I plan on doing a city-by-city general summary of what happened and some thoughts.

So, first off, PASADENA!

After the first few states of our month-of-excessive-time-spent-in-airports, we made it to LA and got a first-class introduction to Los Angeles Traffic. It’s okay, though, because along the way we got to meet Creepy Wall Jesus (who doesn’t know what to do with his hands) and got a classic reaction from Stroope to some LA fashions. After sitting on Broadway for the longest time, we made it out to Pasadena to stay at William Carey International University. Throwing our bags into our rooms and quickly freshening up, we made our way to the house of our hosts for an excellent evening of conversations and questions. This evening is also where the blog title comes from, as Stroope made us introduce ourselves in alliterated form. So, for example, I was “charismatic Kristen.”

The next day was a full one. After a morning at church (which I have thoughts on), we headed out to Malibu. We met some students and had some time at the Malibu Hindu Temple – which is the second largest in the United States – and had our true first introduction to Hinduism. I plan on blogging about the monster known as Hinduism at a later date – but know that it both makes complete sense and no sense at all. The temple was a great introduction to some of what happened over the next month.

Then we headed out to the beach (drove past Pepperdine and felt horrible for Ken Starr and his change of scenery) and hiked down to Point Dume beach for conversations and bonding with some of the students who attend Chaiwalla at USC.  Then the day was topped off with time at the Glenn’s house for a LOST finale party. For the record – I am pretty annoyed at the finale. I am open to being less annoyed once they release the whole thing on DVD and I get a chance to re-watch everything, but right now? NOT COOL.

Our last day in Pasadena was a fairly academic day – so, of course, I loved it. We chatted with Varun Soni, the Dean of Religious Life at USC, who is also the first Hindu person to serve in such a position in the United States. He was gracious with his time and gave some valuable perspective on the system we were about to swim in. The afternoon was spent with H.L. Richards, who is a preemminent scholar on the interaction between Hinduism and Christianity. Also a valuable perspective.

As we boarded the flight that evening to Hong Kong, I had many thoughts swimming around my head. There was a lot of conversation about community and what community could look like. What does ‘doing life’ with Indian students living in the United States look like? A completely communal culture intersecting with a completely individual one – what boundaries need to die for those two to do well together?

Also – we spent a lot of time before we left studying how Hinduism and Christianity intersect in India… but this was the first time it occurred to me that they would intersect differently in America. How does folk Hinduism interact with folk Christianity?

I was honored and humbled by the people who opened their lives to us for those few days – both our hosts and the Chaiwalla students who were willing to be grilled mercilessly – and how I hoped to be able to be that for others. We talked about what makes a job ‘enough’ and how we judge ourselves against our calling. We talked about balancing sabbath with productivity and how leaning into questions is really the only way to survive life.

I remember feeling really antsy as we spent time in LA – ready to “start the journey” and get the trip underway. Now, as I reflect back, I realize that many of the questions I asked throughout the entire trip were responding to conversations over this period of time.

next up: walks of death to noddle shops (or: our time in hong kong)

June 1 – 23 was spent in various cities in India. Head here for the bullet point summary of the most ridiculous trip I have or probably will ever take.

24 : Because my parents surprised us at the airport, Mike and I got to show them India pictures and process it with them in person instead of via technology. So very awesome. There was also American food and time with the Waco favorites.

25 : Watched World Cup games with parents and siblings and continued to emotionally detox from India.

26 : Last full day with the parents until August. I’m learning as I get older that loving spending time with a functional family isn’t weakness and that we should cling to healthy community wherever we find it.

27 : Waco favorites and I drove to Dallas to see Wicked – otherwise known as “The Musical That Speaks to My Soul on Deep and Profound Levels”.

28 : Woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck, so it was a low key day. Doctor’s appointments – as per usual. Then lunch with a life friend and soul giving conversations with my sister.

29 : Most of the day was spent doing my traditional post-trip ritual of cleaning out my DVR and drinking as much coffee as I can.

30 : Onion reunion part one and So You Think You Can Dance. Excellent.

Annalena Tonelli was a Italian Roman Catholic who left her homeland, career and family in 1969 to move to Somalia to work with nomadic people groups there. During her career, she founded hospitals – so well, in fact, that she was recognized by the WHO as a “TB Center of Excellence” for her work against the disease – and schools. She advocated for the deaf, orphaned and lame. Referred to by many who knew her as the “Mother Theresa of Somalia”, Annalena worked tirelessly until her untimely death in 2005.

What struck me as I read her story was her identification as a Somali. The people she served were not projects, they were her people. She found a tribe to do life among and spent her life serving them the best she knew how. The people she worked with were deeply Muslim and she faced opposition at times, but mostly, she forged family. Upon her death, one of the Imams she worked closely with told a reporter from the Guardian that, “although Annalena was a Christian, Allah loves her and her work.” They called her a gift from Allah and grieved her passing deeply.

Dana Robert – in her book Christian Mission: How Christianity Became a World Religion – says about her, “The deeper lesson of Annalena Tonelli’s death was that her personal relationship with the Somali people she loved, forged over a lifetime of service, was ultimately stronger than the historic tension between Muslim and Christians, or Africans and Europeans.” (p117)

We talked in class this week about approaching “the other”. I made the point that it must be done in love. Without love and respect, approaching anyone is useless and futile. We must devote ourselves to humanity in ways that affirm it and care for it. Annalena is someone I draw hope from. Hope that simply loving people and figuring out – every single day – how to love the person in front of you best leads to greater things than we could ever imagine. She loved the nomadic Muslim people she found herself among and they loved her. Community was formed in the midst of diversity and people’s lives were changed.

I spent a lot of my late adolescence avoiding my specific cultural heritage. I didn’t want to claim Bucks County or Yardley – finding them to be confining and lame. However, as I move further away from those roots, I have begun to become more comfortable with how my homeland has shaped my identity. My concepts of time, relationships and some other key aspects were just as shaped by the cultural soup I swam in as the family I grew up in. In light of that, I often refer to the fact that living in Waco has been more cross-cultural for me than my trips to Sub-Saharan Africa. Mostly, this comment is made in jest. Sometimes, however, there is more truth. Living within the greater American culture and yet in a subculture that is often still foreign and frustrating to me is something that exhausts me. I increasingly find that solitude and rest can be found in my homeland. Life still makes more sense to me in the Northeast than it does some other places.

The picture above is Lake Afton in downtown Yardley Borough. Still one of my favorite places in the country, I got to do a lot of work sitting by its banks last spring and it always brought focus and peace. In my month of intentionally leaning into hope, I am attempting to reclaim belonging in places where I don’t. To find ways to claim ‘home’ in places foreign and frustrating.

However, it is important for me to remember that home is wherever my story began and continues to begin. The places where I find home have shaped me in ways I cannot begin to describe. Foreign and frustrating places have as well, but ‘home’ is just a different category. The people in which I find ‘home’ are irreplaceable in my story and in how they have helped me become more of who I can potentially be.

So, today, I choose to lean in to the truth that ‘home’ is wherever my story sits, in whatever chapter I currently live in.