Volume 4 - Chapter 23

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Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 4, Chapter 23

 

August 9-September 21, 2002

 

 

After the Woodstock Festival at Zary in the south of Poland, we returned to

the Baltic Sea coast in the north and concluded the summer with eight more

highly successful festivals in small towns and villages. To the very end I

cautiously awaited the predictions of the astrologers, who had warned me in

May that I was in a double-malific period and could expect violence and even

death throughout the whole festival tour. They wrote that I would be

"walking the razor's edge," as forces would be trying hard to bring me down.

 

But throughout the entire four months of the tour we experienced not one

single act of aggression or violence. And what happened to the forces that

were meant to bring us down? We experienced only one victory after another,

as day after day thousands of people poured into our festivals, thousands of

books were distributed and hundreds of thousands of people took prasadam.

Were the astroglogers wrong? Was I to conclude that their profession is no

longer valid in this age of Kali? No, to the contrary they have often given

me good advice. The answer could be the guardian angels above:

 

bhutani visnoh sura pujitani

durdarsa lingani mahadbutani

raksanti tad bhaktimatah parebhyo

mattas ca martyan atha sarvatas ca

 

"The order carriers of Lord Visnu, who are worshiped even by the demigods,

possess wonderful bodily features exactly like those of Visnu and are very

rarely seen. The Visnudutas protect the devotees of the Lord from the hands

of enemies, from envious persons and even from my jurisdiction, as well as

from natural disturbances."

 

[ Yamaraj to the Yamadutas: Srimad-Bhagavatam 6.3.18]

 

On August 23, our tour officially ended for the year. Who can describe the

great feelings of separation as we said goodbye to our comrades in arms?

Soldiers in Lord Caitanya's army, we had preached vigorously together for

months, giving every ounce of our energy to employing the weapon of the holy

name in melting the hearts of disenchanted souls. Such intense service,

often for 18 hours a day, forged close bonds of friendship among the

devotees. Daily witnessing the miracle of Lord Caitanya's mercy, our faith

was strong in the holy names, the instructions of our spiritual master and

each other. Grown men cried and woman fell into each others arms as the

three buses carrying the main group of devotees left in different

directions. After their departure, I remained behind at the base attending

to final matters - but spent most of the time in my room lamenting that, for

now, the great yajna was over.

 

"When golden Lord Hari appeared in this world, His glory flooded the world

with the nectar of pure love of Krsna, and there was tumultuous chanting of

the holy names of Lord Hari. O, will that sweet time ever come again?"

 

[srila Prabodhananda Saraswati: Caitanya-candramrta, Chapter 12, verse 32]

 

After a few days I pulled myself together, and along with Sri Prahlad, his

wife, Rukmini Priya, and several other devotees, drove 18 hours south to

Hungary to attend the Janmastami celebrations at New Vraja Dhama, the

Hungarian devotee community. It was a sweet, well-organized festival, with

plenty of kirtan and prasadam. Such festivals are essential for the

enthusiasm of devotees, and no doubt the 500 devotees in attendence gained

spiritual strength to return to their various duties in devotional service.

But my mind kept wandering back to the Polish seaside and our festivals,

where we had given so many conditioned souls their first rememberances of

the Lord after millions of lives of forgetfulness. I live only for those

moments when crowds of people, dressed in their best clothes, stream into

our festival grounds, their eyes lighting up as they see the great event

before them. At New Vraja Dhama I honestly missed those fallen souls with

the same intensity as I did the wonderful devotees of our tour! O Lord

Caitanya, please allow me to always dance in your eternal festival of the

holy names!

 

After a week at New Vraja Dhama, I headed east towards Ukraine and yet

another devotee festival on the coast at Odessa. Two thousand devotees

descended on the shores of the Black Sea for days of chanting, dancing and

feasting. For one week I drowned in the affection of loving disciples,

friends and well wishers, most notably my dearest and closest friend, Bhakti

Brnga Govinda Maharaja. It had been two long years since we had been

together, and our warm embrace upon seeing each other confirmed how much we

had missed each other. Who didn't note the appreciation we showed each

other as we sat and shared our moments of victory and defeat in pushing on

the mission of our spiritual master. And how could the so-called love in

this material world possibly compare with the feelings of friendship we

exchanged while reminiscing on our devotional service together through the

years? One night, as Niranjana Maharaja led kirtan, I saw a tear in

Bhakti Brnga Govinda Maharaja's eye. He was appreciating Maharaja's sweet

devotional singing. I felt fortunate to have him as my friend.

 

"By remembering Lord Hari, the devotees' hearts become overwhelmed with

bliss, their bodily hairs stand erect, and their eyes become filled with

tears of joy. O earth, these devotees are the best of men. Please

carefully maintain them for as long as the sun and the moon shine in the

sky. What is the use of Your carefully maintaining those other burdensome

persons who are simply intent on coming and going to and from the house of

Yamaraja?"

 

[ Srila Rupa Goswami: Padyavali, verse 55 ]

 

>From Ukraine, I flew to Kazakstan and Bhakti Brnga Govinda Maharaja's

community, Sri Vrindavan Dhama, on the outskirts of Almaty at the base of

the Himalayan mountains. No doubt Maharaja already has his service awaiting

him in the realm of liberated souls for this project, which has risen from

the desert of this strict Muslim country, boarded on four sides by Russia,

China, Uzbekistan and Kirgistan. Maharaja came here five years ago and

began making devotees with his powerful kirtans and enchanting lectures. At

that time there were only a few devotees in a small temple. As I stepped out

of the car upon arriving at Sri Vrindavan Dhama, I was greeted by hundreds

of devotees, their slightly slanting oriental eyes shining with bliss in the

midst of a big kirtan. I had visited briefly two years ago, and was now

amazed at the progress: a house expanded to accommodate a large temple room,

big gardens with numerous pathways, many new houses, and most notably a big

painted sign with designs for a Vedic temple, goshala, devotee residences

and shops. As we stopped and admired the plans, I asked Maharaja from whence

the capital will come for such an ambitious project. Looking up at the sky,

he replied, "I have no idea, but He knows. It will manifest in due course of

time." Over the next week we had a festival Bhakti Bringa Govinda Maharaja

style: three hours of kirtan in the morning, seminars throughout the day,

and four hours of kirtan at night in a big pandal.

 

Soon I will turn my attention from the blissful festivals to several months

of purifying bhajan in the holy land of Vrindavan. Next week I leave Sri

Vrindavan Dhama for the original Vrindavan Dhama over the mountains in

India. There, at the base of Govardhana Hill in Bhaktivedanta Ashram, I'll

rest and recuperate from the fatigue of the festival tour, and attempt to

delve into the glories of Vrindavan in hope of purifying myself for the

challenge of next year's preaching.

 

"Meditating on the lotus feet of Sri Sri Radha-Murli-Manohara, placing

myself in the dust of Lord Caitanya's feet, and respectfully offering

obeisances to the great devotees of the Lord, who are so many oceans of

transcendental virtue, I shall now happily begin to praise the

transcendental opulences of Sri Vrindavan."

 

[srila Prabodhanada Saraswati: Vrindavan-mahimamrta, Chapter 1, Text 1]

 

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