Krishna Janmashtami 9/8/07

Click Play on the top-right of this page for music!

These pictures were taken from my phone, since my [roommate's] camera wasn't working at the time...

Look closely, the peacock/hen are kissing!

Barsana Dham: serene, peaceful, quiet. Amidst the flat land juts the center piece: the phallic temple tower. When Ryan, Wiley, and I stepped out of the car, we were immediately immersed in a culture deeply rooted in history; we were transported to a foreign land, with different cultures and traditions than our own. We were surrounded by a multitude of colorful saris, rich and vibrant, and the smell of curry from dinner.

After dinner, we were ushered into the prayer hall. We sat Indian style, with our legs crossed. The chanting that emanated the space was earthly and deep, penetrating the darkest depths of our hearts and souls. Although the language was foreign, it seemed familiar, like something from a distant dream. Our attention was focused on the chanting. Constant. Rhythmical. Entrancing. Echoing. Pianissimo, at first. Then the pace picked up: faster and faster. Crescendo. Forte. Then silence. Utter and complete silence. Cries of children and whispers of people can be heard from the back; but I didn't care. The intimacy of the moment, perhaps a brief connection with God, can be seen and felt in the ecstasy of the ashram (?).

I, too, felt the presence of God that night. Not in the prayer hall, nor the phallic tower, nor the wading pool. I felt God in the nature that surrounded me. In the night breeze, the woody hills, the flat plains, the dirt path, the vast sky, the twinkling stars. I felt God's presence within my companions that night. Sure he didn't appear in a burning bush, or in the roaring wind.

It reminded me of a biblical passage. And here it goes:
“A great and mighty wind was tearing at the mountains and was shattering cliffs before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake, there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire, there was a voice, a soft whisper. When Elijah heard [it], he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave”(1 Kings 19:11-13).
Being engulfed by another religion made me realize the importance of my own. I've been complacent, and that night just brought me peace. I heard God in the whisper, not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire.

Max Lucado in his book A Gentle Thunder writes:

Once there was a man who dared God to speak.
Burn the bush like you did for Moses, God.
And I will follow.
Collapse the walls like you did for Joshua, God.
And I will fight.
Still the waves like you did on Galilee, God.
And I will listen.
And so the man sat by a bush, near a wall, close to the sea
And waited for God to speak.
And God heard the man, so God answered.
He sent fire, not for a bush, but for a church.
He brought down a wall, not of brick, but of sin.
He stilled a storm, not of the sea, but of a soul.
And God waited for the man to respond.
And he waited . . .
And he waited . . .
And waited.
But because the man was looking at bushes, not hearts;
Bricks and not lives, seas and not souls,
he decided that God had done nothing.
Finally, he looked to God and asked, Have you lost your power?
And God looked at him and said, Have you lost your hearing?