non-hindus in temples??

[Guest guest]

HARI AUM

 

Below is the copy a blog by Catherine from

Chicagoland, Illinois.

 

Catherine, a non-hindu explains her experience of

visting a hindu temple.

 

Regards

 

Balagopal

 

NARAYANA NARAYANA NARAYANA

 

 

 

So today Asher and I walked to the library where I

picked up, among other things, a copy of the Bhagavad

Gita - a sacred ancient Hindu text I've been

interested in reading for some time. As I left, I

noticed a flyer for a book club meeting to discuss the

book Persepolis, the story of a girl during the

Iranian Revolution. This caught my attention, and I

wished I were free to attend.

 

I've already mentioned the diversity that we have in

our town and neighborhood, which always seems to pop

up on trips to the library. About a block from our

house, smack-dab between the library and home, we

always pass a Hindu temple which ironically meets in

what used to be an Evangelical Christian Church. Today

as we passed there were two Indian men standing in the

parking lot, so Asher and I detoured and introduced

ourselves. I enjoyed chatting with them (haltingly, as

they spoke little English, and I speak no Indian

languages) about my cute baby, the beautiful weather,

my trips to India, their homes in India, and the

questions I had about their church-housed temple. They

invited me to attend services sometime. " Ok for a

Christian to visit? " I inquired; " oh yes! Anyone can

visit! " they assured me.

 

Then, as I started to leave, I remembered the book in

my bag. Pulling it out I said " Is this a good book? "

They lit up. " Oh yes! " they said, " Verdy goot! " And

then, right there in the parking lot, one of them

began to explain to me the story, the context, the

plot of the book. I followed along as best I could

(language barrier, remember!) After a few fascinating

minutes of story time, he beckoned to me. " Come

inside! " and walked inside the church-temple.

 

I hesitated at the door but then slipped off my shoes

and followed him. It was interesting to see a familiar

Christian sanctuary structure filled with the incense,

gaudy plastic colors and flowers, statues, candles,

and food offerings of a Hindu temple. He continued his

story, pointing out the real-life symbols as he

described them in his story. And we stood there,

conspicuous and awkward, me and my baby-in-stroller,

in the middle of a sanctuary-turned-temple, in halting

English, with worshipers coming and going casually

around us, just a block down from my house.

 

What a surreal experience.

 

I realize that this conversation and invitation

happening on the same trip that I picked up the

Bhagavad Gita has more to do with my choices than

coincidence; yet I didn't plan it and it definetly

made for an incredibly surreal afternoon. An

out-of-country-experience, you might say.

 

That evening I made my way to what I believed to be a

" get to know you " meeting of my new church small group

(and in fact, this is what it was!). But, to my

surprise, it was held in the apartment of a Persian

man, who had grown up in Iran, who was a young

teenager during the Iranian Revolution. And he spent

the evening telling, in faltering English, the

spellbinding story of his life.

 

What a day. As I drove home, the images and sounds and

smells and comments and events and conversations of

the day swirled around my head.

 

These are the people in my neighborhood.

 

 

Posted by Catherine at 9:29 PM

 

 

 

 

 

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