I grew up as a Catholic. Irish Catholic to be exact. I am not a part of the church anymore for a variety of reasons ranging from the sex abuse scandal to the exclusionary aspects of the religion. I'm pretty sure I lost my faith somewhere along the way. My only recent visits to church have been either weddings or for funerals. While I don't consider myself Catholic it's amazing how the rituals and routines of the service have wormed their way into my memory (sit, stand, kneel, pray, shake hands, sit, stand).
This weekend I was able to attend a Hindu temple with my friend. It was amazing. The first thing I noticed, after I took my shoes off, was the incense. It was so fragrant. The incense in the Catholic church reminds me of death and seems to smell like dust, dirt and old men which is actually the way I think of the church.
The colors were eye popping. The women in their saris, the glittering deities, and the priest in his saffron colored robes. My friend was a fabulous guide and explained everything to me. I felt that I needed to pray while my friend prayed. Granted my prayers were more along the lines of "you have a lovely temple" or "thanks for having me". When my friend finished his prayers we sat for a bit on the cool marble floor. I wasn't sure exactly how to sit or if there was a certain way so I just sat cross legged. Our conversation was surprisingly about pedicures. (Or not surprisingly since we were barefoot). At one point the priest came over to my friend to tell him he couldn't sit the way he was sitting. Turns out he had the soles of his feet facing the deity. That's a big no-no. My friend left to run to the men's room and I just sat alone. It was so serene and spiritual. It was oddly quiet and loud at the same time. I felt really peaceful there.
No comments:
Post a Comment