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Barbara's Story I was brought up in the Catholic faith, and once I learned about its gory history, ( at about the age of 15) rejected it with deep disgust. After a while, I went through the "born again" psychology, which didn't last long - once the rational mind reasserted itself, I was OK again. But for years after that I studied religion - EVERY religion - with devouring curiosity, and, of course, the hope that there was such a thing as "Truth" or a philosophy that would give my life some meaning. Strangely - it was during a trip around India when my awakening occurred. You hear so any tales of Westerners going there to "find" themselves/become enlightened/whatever, but in my case it had the opposite effect. After a few weeks of trudging through temples which ranged from the aesthetically gorgeous to the downright tawdry, and marvelling over the geometry of their structures whilst being repulsed by other aspects of these complexes, I found myself on a boat drifting along the Ganges at twilight in the "sacred" city of Varanasi, and then it happened. Five magnificent specimens of manhood ( drool!) clad in vermilion and saffron robes, and accompanied by a percussion orchestra, commenced their evening devotion to the Goddess. It was most impressive to watch, pure theatre, with the colours and sounds having an hypnotic effect on the senses, not unlike the High Tridentine Mass of my youth! For about an hour they offered perfumes, flowers, rice and other items to the deity. My guide, a highly educated man from Rajasthan,, then explained that this ceremony had been performed every night on the banks of the Ganges since time immemorial. Its origins were already lost in antiquity when Herodotus witnessed it, 2 millennia ago!! Something then came over me - a sense of the utter futility of it all...Regardless how visually pleasing the scene was, what good had it ever done anyone? I then remembered my own devotions to a heedless Deity, wherein I made Novenas, begging God to heal my father of his rages and heavy drinking...and those prayers had not been answered. I then thought of the 911 WTC atrocity, and reflected that if there were a God, it was painfully obvious that he/she/it doesn't give a flying fuck about anything we do, whether good or bad. We can offer incense, candles, flowers, and all sorts of goodies as bribes to our supernatural parent, and the Deity remains resolutely mute. It always has, and it always will. It cares not whether we are killed in war, or buried under a plane-devastated building, or if we contract ebola, or are swept away in a flood or burned to cinders by a volcano. It doesn't care if we are kind to our neighbours and generous to the less fortunate, or if we spend our lives in rapine and pillage.. Useless, useless, it is all useless. That's probably the best quote from the Bible! Thank you, Brahmin priests, for bringing this message home to me. I shall always remember you with gratitude. from Barbara McNeill of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia |
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