A feast for the senses ... and the spirit

We sat high up on Baba’s Rock and meditated as the sun set over the Great Thar Desert towards Rajasthan.

From somewhere just below came the rich sounds of a large wooden Indian flute, played (I found out later) by an Australian who lived for years as a hermit somewhere on the West Australian coastline near Broome.

The moment was interrupted by a shout and I looked across to see two black bears playing on a clearing just below us. What was to be a spiritual experience ended up being a feast of the senses as well.

I had gone to India for several reasons. A desire that my Christian journey be enriched by being open to the wisdom of other faiths led me to join a two-week Interfaith Exposure Tour led by Dr Robert Bos and hosted by the Amritsar Diocese of the Church of North India.

Since 1981, when I visited the Taize community in France, I have been interested in developing the practice of listening and contemplation. More recently, my involvement with the Newcastle Multifaith Association has led me to a relationship with the Braham Kumaris Raja Yoga Centre in New Lambton, where I have attended their World Peace Hour, spoken at meetings and joined in times of meditation.

Together we have explored ways of participating in the Parliament of World Religions to be held in Melbourne next year.

While in India, the Rev. Peter Botha and I visited the Brahma Kumaris headquarters at Mt Abu to study meditation. I have always had a fascination with India.

After four weeks of travelling and meeting gurus and yogis and masters and holy people and going to holy places, several experiences stood out.

At the end of the service in a little Christian church in a village in the Punjab, two women entered with their children and with bottles of oil and water. They knelt down on the floor and asked for a blessing.

They were not Christian but they knew that this little church was a safe place. They needed help, having suffered abuse, so we surrounded them and the Bishop of Amritsar led us as we prayed for them.

We were assured that that little congregation would now support and protect them with their lives. I was moved by the faith and courage of those women and the realisation that the small congregation of poor Christians had a reputation which crossed boundaries of faith and class.

In hundreds of places as we travelled we encountered people who would pause in the middle of their activities to pray: in the temple, at a roadside shrine, a young boy kneeling in his front yard in his underwear saying his prayers, the milkman jumping off his bicycle and stopping to pray before delivering the milk to a hostel; on the roads, truckloads of men heading to a religious gathering and crowds of women with flags and banners going to the temple to pray.

Everywhere, faces ready to burst into a smile, and a friend for life if you mentioned Australia and Adam Gilchrist or Sachan Tendulker.

Peter Botha and I travelled into the desert in Rajasthan on camels and slept in the sand dunes. The sound of the bells on the camels and the haunting sound of the camel boys singing folk songs as we settled down for the night will stay with me.

I know that the sand dunes would be cleaner at Stockton and the stars brighter at Hilldale, but people are right when they say that there is a deep spirituality in India; despite the conflicts it transcends labels and creeds.

I hope the organisers of the Parliament of World Religions will ask delegates to visit local interfaith communities while in Australia to encourage and learn from local initiatives.

Neil Smith