The Land of Religion

I am not a religious person. I have attended few church services in my life and probably as many bar and bat mitzvahs. I joke sometimes that given my friends and their invitations to Hanukkah and Seder dinner, I am closer to being Jewish than to Christian, the religion in which both of my parents were raised. Because of this, religion has never been a matter of great importance to me personally. I understand its role in our world (at least to the degree an outsider can) but don’t actively practice a religion. I instead rely on a set of values I feel is ostensibly Christian but also common to most if not all world religions. Yet here, in India, I find myself in one of the holiest lands on earth. Here is the birthplace of the oldest religion in the world, Hinduism. It is the land in which the Buddha obtained enlightenment and the home of Sikhism, a large Muslim population, many Zoroastrians (Parsees), and other mystical beliefs. There are even some who claim that Jesus lived for a stint in India. While admittedly it is not the holy land for three of the major world religions (that honor belongs to Jerusalem), it is an important center of religion and a country where, unexpectedly, I have given great thought to the subject.

This trip has been an unexpected wealth of religious thinking for me. If you recall from my post on my last week in Dubai, I had the opportunity to pray in a mosque and learn the actions associated with the five-times daily reminder of God’s presence and supremacy. The peaceful, meditative atmosphere that induced self-reflection combined with the humbling communal aspect of the prayer affected me and brought to mind thoughts of the importance of religion. I saw the strength of that community in action, how ideally it helps breed social equality into people’s thoughts, and how when executed in the intended manner, it caused one to evaluate one’s actions and redirect his course if necessary. On arrival to India, I didn’t expect that I would have a similar experience (how could I when I hadn’t expected the prayer in Dubai), but I should have known that in this land of religion, I would experience something to stimulate again my thinking on faith.

This came sooner than expected, and in Delhi, of all places. Though located on the Yamuna River, one of importance in Hinduism, Delhi is not considered to be a holy city in any major religion, nor is it particularly flush with religious sites. Yet along the purple Metro line, a white marble structure unlike any you will have ever seen rises from the trees and captures your attention. If you stop at the Kalkaji Mandir station, and I encourage you to, you will find that this beautiful sculpture is a temple, but not one from the major religions of the nation. In fact, this is of a religion that also considers Jerusalem to be its holy land, but not Christianity, Judaism, or Islam. It is a Baha'i Temple, and in particular, the Lotus Temple.

Don’t know what the Baha'i Faith is? Neither did I, but if anything that made me want to find out more. I had alighted from the Metro with a mind treating this as another sight to see within Delhi and a plan to start early so I wouldn’t have to cram them all in at the tail end of my stay. That mentality stayed as I wove through throngs of schoolchildren visiting the site on a field trip. However after depositing my shoes and heading to the base of the monumental, gorgeous architectural feat, I felt an atmosphere of greater reverence than that afforded just a typical sight. As I waited to enter, I and the other visitors were explained the tenets of the Baha'i Faith, which centers on unity of all major world religions. The Baha'i’s believe that Bahaullah is the most recent prophet of God after Jesus and Mohammed and was sent in the 1800s to teach God’s word to modern society. Their views are decidedly more liberal than the Catholic Church or Islam regarding women, marriage, and social issues, and they seek unity rather than divisiveness among these often tense religious sects. Under this belief, the temple is open to anyone from any faith to pray and meditate with the only requirement of silence while inside. At different times of day, this silence is broken with a prayer from one of the 9 world religions which they seek to unify.

After entering, the architectural enthusiast in me fought hard to forget religion and just stare at the beautiful concrete and marble interior. My eyes followed the graceful arches that buttressed the 9 interior lotus petals, eliminating the need for any interior columns. Structurally and aesthetically, this was an inspiring space. However after this initial assessment, it was time to focus on the purpose of visiting a temple—meditation and religion. Looking around, I saw people bent in different forms of prayer. Some had the more Christian pose of hands clasped and head bowed, others assumed the meditative seating of the Buddha, and still others sat straight and still, eyes closed in thought. Not sure which best would suit me, I went with what felt natural and soon was lost in thought about the nature and role of religion in modern society.

Now I won’t discuss all of what went through my mind for a few reasons, mostly because I don’t want to get into a religious discourse and partly because some of it was on my own personal beliefs. Besides, I don’t want to give the impression that this was a profound revelation for me in any way. It was one of the most dedicated times I’ve had to think about religion, but it did not leave me with any crystallizing vision on my own beliefs. What I will say is that at one point in my stream of thought, my mind turned toward the topic of extremism in religion. In both this temple and in the mosque in Ajman, I was surrounded by an atmosphere where religion bred peace and community, not division. So how, I wondered, do people become so tied up in single lines or phrases within their religious texts or teachings that they deviate from what, to an outsider, seems the overarching message? Sure each religion claims to be the right one, but as long as attempts at “educating” (read: converting) the non-believers are peaceful, that should not be an issue. It only becomes one if the dogma of righteousness is taken to an extreme and drives zealots to violence in the name of their god(s). And why is this prevalent in Western religions but not Hinduism and Buddhism? I don’t have any answer for these questions, and probably never will, but it seems strange that such an overarchingly positive message can become so twisted in the minds of a few. If anyone has thoughts, I’d be interested to hear.

I was taught more about the Ba’hai faith after leaving the temple by one of the volunteers, a girl from Riverside, CA, named Carmel. She spotted me as an American from far away and when we realized we were from just down the freeway from one another, she was eager to lead me on a personal tour of the display on the Baha'i Faith. It was interesting to learn about this new religion and ponder its beliefs. What to the engineer in me was more interesting, though, was the video showing the construction of the temple. Precise wood formwork, 48 hour continuous concrete pours with regulated cooling, and placement of individually created marble slabs went into the construction. The amount of innovation and high-technology required and executed in a generally lower-technology culture (India in the 1980s) was fascinating and really fascinating to watch.

A quick aside at this point: I have often looked at older mosques and temples and marveled at the details of the sculptures on the facades and interiors. The amount of devotion that went into the construction to put that level of painstaking detail just astounds me. Looking at modern structures, I have often felt that is missing. Now I know that there is a difference now in the amount of money available and labor laws (you can’t pay an artisan peanuts these days or just have a king allot large sums to projects), but it still seems that the devotional aspect of the laborers is missing. Here, at the Lotus Temple, it was apparent that the Iranian architect who executed the project had the full religious spirit in him throughout. The care he took to ensure that his design was completed as envisioned was inspiring. It was refreshing to see someone care so much about creating a grand home for his faith.

It was not long after my visit to the Lotus Temple that I had my second encounter with religion in India. In fact, it was the following weekend when, after finding the trains to Agra once again fully booked, I headed north to Amritsar. Many who visit India for just a few weeks miss this gem of a town partly because it is out of the way and partly because aside from the border closing ceremony with Pakistan, its only draw is the Golden Temple, the holiest site in Sikhism. This, in my opinion, is a mistake. In my time in this country, I have not found a more peaceful place than that temple, and whether you are a Sikh or not, to sit on the cool marble and watch the sun’s first rays glance off the massive amounts of gold adorning the façade of the temple is an awesome experience.

First, again, I will discuss the architectural viewpoint. The temple sits on a platform in a large square pool surrounded on all sides by white plastered, ornate buildings. The buildings house various kitchens, dorms, and facilities for Sikh pilgrims (of which there are many), while the temple is only for devotion and prayer. The pool is ringed by a white colonnade growing out of marble flooring which provides a comfortable place to sit and access to the pool to wash away one’s sins. The temple itself is a gorgeous building for its ornate façade detailing and for the hundreds of kilograms of gold heaped on its top and sides by a Sikh ruler wishing to make a present to the faith. Four bulbous towers reach skyward, one in each corner, around a central bulbous dome, all adorned with smaller bulbs, spires, and upturned pieces reminiscent of lotus petals. The sides are draped in fake windows and pilasters, and thousands of smaller floral and other designs in a beautiful arrangement that shows just how much care was taken in the creation of this place.

In the ultimate mark of devotion, prayers ring out from the temple continuously throughout day and night. Songs of devotion from the Sikh canon are dispersed over loudspeakers to those in and around the temple as a constant reminder of faith and God. Those who sing these chants are admirably passionate in their beliefs and following the truest path they know to reaching a higher plane. Even those who are of a different faith, I believe, must admire this devotion and that they have chosen to express it in a constructive manner that is both self-satisfying and for the good of their community.

I arrived at the temple at sunrise and sat on the marble floor, watching as light filled the square cavern around the temple. As I did, I observed the line to enter the temple proper grow from only a few right at sunrise to the length of the pathway out to the temple and then some. Here, on a Sunday of no great importance in the Sikh religion, the number of people making pilgrimage to the temple or visiting just for regular prayers was incredible. I have been in full temples and churches in the past, but that has always been on a special occasion—a holiday or a special ceremony in the life of a member of the faith. This was a normal day in Amritsar, and yet the line to pray was like the line for a ride at Disneyland! I suppose that comes of the Golden Temple being such a holy site (perhaps the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem has a similar queue each day), but also of the devotion of the Sikh followers. As I mentioned earlier, I have often felt that devotion to religious ideals, even among those who claim to practice religion, lacks in modern culture, but here I saw the respect which these people held for their faith. It was inspiring.

Later in the morning, I was approached by two young Sikhs eager to talk to a foreigner—they don’t get many at this site. They told me more about Sikhism and took me into the queue for the temple. Together we walked to the temple front, they prayed, and I followed, and then we walked to the back to drink the water of the pool. Initially hesitant because of the old adage not to drink the water in India, I did on the insistence of my companions who would see it as an affront to their faith if I did not. We then were offered a sweet tasting mash to conclude the prayer ritual and headed back down the walk to the colonnade around the temple.

That small description of this event may not sound like much—certainly it was not the shared prayer experience that I had in Ajman in the mosque, nor was it the meditative peace I found in the Lotus Temple. Yet as I watched my companions, I saw these two outgoing, typical Indian teens suddenly transform into a calm, devoted, meditative state when we entered the temple, clearly engaged in self-reflection and prayer. I have seen the same among my more religious friends at home during daily or weekly prayers, but it was interesting to see here how even among modern youth, religion still has a significant role. Based on what I saw then and have seen since, this seems to be truer in India than in the US.

After this prayer, my friends departed and I was left alone once more at the temple. I headed off to see a few other temples and sights in Amritsar but returned in time to sit by the temple once more before and during sunset. In this time, as I sat alone, I directed my thoughts once more toward religion and the line of devotees still waiting to pray. I pondered my own beliefs and why for these people religion and prayer were an important part of their lives and for me it was not. Was I missing something? Or did my values, sense of community and role therein, and faith in science, to some degree, provide the same function as the faith in a higher power did for them? Again, I had no major revelations but some interesting thoughts that I will refrain from sharing to avoid a religious treatise. However considering the role that religion plays in Indian culture (one that I have since learned is quite important in many aspects of life and not so important in others) and considering the general lack of comparable religious importance in the US, I wonder what has become the substitute. Clearly here for many, religion provides some valuable service. So if it does not do the same for the average American, what has replaced it?

Again, in an attempt to avoid delving too deep into opinions on religions, I will stop there and return to my narrative. As night fell, I was led to the communal areas of the temple by another friend. He showed me the dining hall and dormitories where volunteers helped prepare food and rooms for travelers and pilgrims. I was again impressed with the philosophy of openness to all religions—both dining and lodging were open to all for only a donation of your choosing. After this, and one last glance at the temple, it was time to return to the bus station for the overnight ride home (an adventure in itself, but one for a later post).

I suppose that after these two experiences, though I have few conclusions about my own beliefs or the importance of religion in society, the one realization I have had is that it is important to take time to consider these issues. It is important because it helps inform your own beliefs and understand your views but also because it allows you to see the world through someone else’s eyes. We get too often wrapped up in our own beliefs, be they religious or secular, and forget that others view the world through a different lens. We can never forget that it is necessary to see the world from all sides to reach work together effectively and overcome differences. With that thought, I will end this post. I will also leave with a promise of another post on India’s major religions later (which I did not explore in this, obviously) and a visual representation of my activities as described in this post.