Wednesday, June 14, 2006
On the Bus and in the Temple
Riding the city bus is truly an education. The full spectrum of humanity is represented (in terms of types, not financial position--the affluent don't ride in buses--they travel in the private comfort of their cars.) The rest of us climb aboard, hope for a seat and a quiet ride, with no unexpected delays or catastrophes.
Two days ago, some fellow got on who was quite angry to find the bus so crowded he couldn't get through the huddled riders to a place nearer the back. He cursed loudly, verbally attacking his fellow riders, until someone gave him a seat just to hush him. Such incidents are disturbing. Mostly, people just look away and pretend nothing untoward is happening.
Today was a different story. First, a woman got on and there was quite a delay as she tried to convince the driver to let her ride free--apparently she didn't have the cost of a ticket. The driver finally gave in, and the woman seated herself next to me. She explained that she had been to the hospital to visit a friend. She did not look destitute, but still apparently she had little cash.
A few steps away stood an older man, quietly hanging onto the available pole. There was nothing unusual about his appearance. When his stop was announced, he quickly and inconspicuously stepped over to the woman, and slipped something into her hand. When she opened her fist, she found a ten dollar bill. She was amazed and grateful.
So--indeed, there are angels among us, saints in disguise.
Later, I stopped at the Chinese Buddhist Temple again. Someone was chanting the many names of Buddha at the front, to the occasional accompaniment of a gong and cymbal. When I entered, I discovered that I was the only person in the audience. I stood at the back and listened closely for fifteen or twenty minutes.
As I had anticipated, this chanting did not have (for me) the force of Sanskrit (and certain other forms of) chanting. It was effective in creating a devotional state of mind, but it had no deep inner resonance, did not awaken the chakras or subtle channels. It was exoteric, not esoteric. For me, the latter is always where the action is. I have always felt like a secret member of some unnamed, undefined, unknown church. I think it is the church of nonbelievers who believe what their own hearts speak. I envy those who are more orthodox, but am unwilling to give up independence of thought for the comfort of communal worship. I am eclectic in the extreme, drawing on elements of Kashmiri Shaivism, yogic philosophy, Tibetan Buddhism, Taoism, and Sufism for my personal spiritual mix. Buddha said, "Be a light unto yourself," and I follow his advice.
Yet, despite my reservations, I think the presence of the temple in our neighborhood is a good thing. There is also a Russian Orthodox Church nearby, and I often pass the priests in their robes and their impressive tall hats as they go in and out. Usually, they do not make eye contact when you pass on the sidewalk, but duck their heads or turn away, a gesture which raises a question in my mind--how does this church define the role of women? It is a church devoted to the patriarchs, none of whom is female. Our neighborhood is an impressive mixture of various faiths, quite different from my midwestern home town, where the churches were Methodist or Baptist or Presbyterian, with a single Catholic church mixed in to provide contrast.
I also went to see (finally) "The DaVinci Code" today, that strange amalgam of fact and fiction, rumor and interpretation. I have seen several programs on its many factual inaccuracies, and its deliberate twisting of evidence. But it is a good mystery tale (though somewhat difficult to unravel). What is most interesting is that it focuses on a religious theme in a time when secularism dominates the mass media. It exposes the dangers of radical extremism, both within the orthodox institution and those who stand in opposition. A good lesson for our times, I think.
Two days ago, some fellow got on who was quite angry to find the bus so crowded he couldn't get through the huddled riders to a place nearer the back. He cursed loudly, verbally attacking his fellow riders, until someone gave him a seat just to hush him. Such incidents are disturbing. Mostly, people just look away and pretend nothing untoward is happening.
Today was a different story. First, a woman got on and there was quite a delay as she tried to convince the driver to let her ride free--apparently she didn't have the cost of a ticket. The driver finally gave in, and the woman seated herself next to me. She explained that she had been to the hospital to visit a friend. She did not look destitute, but still apparently she had little cash.
A few steps away stood an older man, quietly hanging onto the available pole. There was nothing unusual about his appearance. When his stop was announced, he quickly and inconspicuously stepped over to the woman, and slipped something into her hand. When she opened her fist, she found a ten dollar bill. She was amazed and grateful.
So--indeed, there are angels among us, saints in disguise.
Later, I stopped at the Chinese Buddhist Temple again. Someone was chanting the many names of Buddha at the front, to the occasional accompaniment of a gong and cymbal. When I entered, I discovered that I was the only person in the audience. I stood at the back and listened closely for fifteen or twenty minutes.
As I had anticipated, this chanting did not have (for me) the force of Sanskrit (and certain other forms of) chanting. It was effective in creating a devotional state of mind, but it had no deep inner resonance, did not awaken the chakras or subtle channels. It was exoteric, not esoteric. For me, the latter is always where the action is. I have always felt like a secret member of some unnamed, undefined, unknown church. I think it is the church of nonbelievers who believe what their own hearts speak. I envy those who are more orthodox, but am unwilling to give up independence of thought for the comfort of communal worship. I am eclectic in the extreme, drawing on elements of Kashmiri Shaivism, yogic philosophy, Tibetan Buddhism, Taoism, and Sufism for my personal spiritual mix. Buddha said, "Be a light unto yourself," and I follow his advice.
Yet, despite my reservations, I think the presence of the temple in our neighborhood is a good thing. There is also a Russian Orthodox Church nearby, and I often pass the priests in their robes and their impressive tall hats as they go in and out. Usually, they do not make eye contact when you pass on the sidewalk, but duck their heads or turn away, a gesture which raises a question in my mind--how does this church define the role of women? It is a church devoted to the patriarchs, none of whom is female. Our neighborhood is an impressive mixture of various faiths, quite different from my midwestern home town, where the churches were Methodist or Baptist or Presbyterian, with a single Catholic church mixed in to provide contrast.
I also went to see (finally) "The DaVinci Code" today, that strange amalgam of fact and fiction, rumor and interpretation. I have seen several programs on its many factual inaccuracies, and its deliberate twisting of evidence. But it is a good mystery tale (though somewhat difficult to unravel). What is most interesting is that it focuses on a religious theme in a time when secularism dominates the mass media. It exposes the dangers of radical extremism, both within the orthodox institution and those who stand in opposition. A good lesson for our times, I think.
