Ulrich Zwingli: The Swiss Reformer

 

Zwingli is not a well-known figure like Martin Luther in the Reformation narrative. Yet he is an important person and the leader of the Reformation in Switzerland, who gave up his life fighting the Catholic church. It is interesting to know that Swiss Reform was born with the “Affair of the Sausages,” that happened in Zurich, on March 9, 1522. The Catholic church had proclaimed a 40-day period of penitence, and spiritual discipline, in view of the Lenten period. The people were to get busy with prayers, moderate their consumption of alcohol and avoid eating meat. At the printer’s workshop some rebels gathered including Zwingli, a priest, and on Ash Wednesday, at the start of the Lent, they broke the rules by eating sweet pastries and Swiss smoked sausages. Though Zwingli did not eat the sausages, he was very much a part of this rebel gang. This affair exploded into a full-fledged rebellion against the wrong doings of the Catholic church.

Born in a respectable family, in January 1484, at Wildhaus in Switzerland, Zwingli grew up in comfort, raised to be respectable and a reputable member of society. He and his siblings helped the family in farm work, and also in cooking, cleaning and herding cattle. He grew up to love the country side and nature. Observing his intellect and keen interest in studies, his father sent him to his uncle, and then to Bartholomew’s school in Wesen for further studies. He was taught Latin, reading, writing and simple arithmetic. On his 10^th birthday, he was sent to Basel for his secondary education. There he took to debates and excelled in it. He continued his secondary education in Berne, where he was taught classical literature. He started to compose poems.

With his ability as a speaker and writer, excelling in music and poetry, the Dominican monks eyed him and wanted to recruit him to their order, to gain prestige and also to earn more revenue to their order. But his father would hear nothing of this and removed his son from Berne and admitted him to University of Vienna to study Philosophy, along with astronomy, and physics. But midway, he left Vienna and entered the University of Basel in 1502, taking literature and humanism. He went on to pursue his Master’s in scholastic theology. He was 20 years old and was something of a miracle-boy, well versed in many musical instruments, and brought forth melodious music out of the instruments. People thronged to listen to him.

 In due course, he was disappointed with the life style of the priests in the church, and that the sermons were given in Latin, which were not understood by the laity. In 1505 he met the brilliant professor Wyttenbach who urged the youngsters not to give up church, but to study for themselves the ancient doctrines of the Church as given in the Scriptures. Zwingli understood that Christ was the only mediator between God and man, and that the only hope of remission of sins is Christ’s atoning death on the cross.

In 1506 he obtained his master’s degree and was ordained as a priest and started to preach. He served in the city Glarus for ten years. Gradually Zwingli realized that the church was distorting the message of the Scripture and recognized the deficiencies of the Catholic clerics. He started to reeducate the people and preserve the sanctity of the Scriptures in all earnestness. His rhetorical skills attracted the people. He was not happy with the practice of recruiting soldiers to serve as mercenaries to fight foreign armies, a practice in existence since 13^th century and almost 12% of Swiss population were employed as mercenaries. However, since he sided the Pope Julis II in the war against French, he was rewarded and appointed as a military chaplain in 1513 with a hefty pension. He was dispatched to the battlegrounds in Italy during the Battle of Novara in 1513 and the Battle of Marigano in 1515, but the Swiss lost to France. He was appalled by the killings and death and the savagery of war all around him. He left his post and went to Einsiedelm in 1516.

Zwingli started to oppose the mercenary system. But he was also involved in a few sexual scandals of his own. Keeping concubines and having affairs with women was common among the Catholic clergy in those days. Between 1516 and 1518 he devoted to the scrutiny and analysis of the Bible. He educated himself in Hebrew and Greek so that he could read Bible in the original languages. He also listed out a detailed list of the Church’s failings and abuses. Around 1516 he met with Erasmus, the famous Dutch Humanist, and Catholic theologian and the mutual admiration was inevitable. They corresponded for years, but later on Erasmus got uncomfortable with Zwingli’s radical views.

By 1518 Zwingli had become a celebrity and was posted to the prestigious post of People’s Priest at Zurich on 1.1.1519; he was just 35. His superiors suggested to him to earn more money for the church and also to coax the congregation to pay their rent and tithes to show their love for Church. That was their chief motive in appointing such an eloquent preacher to the post! Once Zwingli realized it, he put even more efforts to teach his congregation every book of the New Testament. He taught them from the Bible and not on random biblical passages.

He was very methodical in his daily routines. Till 10 am he gave himself to reading, critical study and writing. Till lunch time, he listened to people and counselled. He walked and talked with his friends in the evenings. Then he resumed to his studies. After supper, he took a short walk and wrote letters until midnight. He had a great rapport with his audiences and the common people. He visited market places and invariably people gathered around him and he gave impromptu sermons for their benefit. He was becoming extremely popular.

In 1519 he worked among his parish people serving them in the Black Death that afflicted them. He himself became sick and was at his death bed, but was miraculously healed and restored. He started to preach with renewed vigor, this time exposing the wrongs of the clergy, even bishops, naming them and accusing them from the pulpit. He denied the existence of purgatory, the practice of ex-communication, the mandatory tithes, sale of indulgences, lavish gifts, and monetary donations. He preached repentance, improvement of life, Christian love and faith in Christ. He rebuked vices among people like idleness, excesses in drinking, eating, gluttony, suppression of the poor, pensions and wars. In 1521 he was appointed canon/priest of Grossmunster in Zurich, a coveted position, which he used fully to propagate his views against the Catholic church and its practices.

Two months after the sausage affair, Zwingli preached that no where in the Bible it is written that all Christians were to abstain from food and drink on any special occasion. There were no food laws in Christianity. These were all man-made traditions. Not that he was against fasting, taken as a religious practice by sincere believers, but not on compulsion by church. Subsequently, Zurich abolished religious pensions, conducting services in Latin and compulsory fasting. In 1522 in violation of celibacy rules, he married a widow, who had three children and together they had four more children. He was castigated by Catholics for such heretical preaching and writings. He presented a defense of his views in a disputation called, “First Zurich Disputation” in 1523, January, attended by 600 clerics. Zwingli prepared “Sixty-Seven Articles,” upholding the truths of the Gospel and the Scriptures. As a result, the Zurich Council permitted all priests to preach nothing but what is written in the Scriptures.

Unfortunately, some churches started to destroy and break all paintings and statues of saints and martyrs, as objects of idol worship, even relics and musical instruments. Conservative Catholics rose up in arms. Violence was in the air. A second disputation was held in October, 1523, against icons and saintly worship. Once again Zwingli convinced the council of his views. In 1524 purge of icons was enacted in Zurich and by 1525 pilgrimages and sale of indulgences were abolished, and also the sacraments of penance and extreme unction (the anointing of the sick). Reforms moved very quickly and Zwingli will not slow down. With the appropriation of the church tithes, the city council was able to enact Poor Law to take care of the poor, widows and the marginalized.      

Zwingli, now a paid official of the city council Zurich, was opposed also by Anabaptists or “Re-baptizers,” who insisted that only adult Christians who had fully confessed were eligible for sacraments. There was clash between the two groups and many Anabaptists were arrested and executed. By 1525-1526, Catholics from five States within Switzerland, joined together and challenged Zwingli. Disputations followed. The Five States partnered with Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand I and a war broke out between these two groups by 1529. A meeting was held between Martin Luther and Zwingli in October 1529 to join forces between the two reformer groups. But Luther refused to join due to his different understanding of the Holy Communion. Luther held that the presence of Christ was in the wafers and wine, the doctrine of “Transubstantiation,” whereas Zwingli held that this sacrament was just a celebration and remembrance of what Jesus did for us on the cross.   

In 1531 war broke out between Zwingli group and the Five Catholic States. In the war at Kappel, on 11th October 1531, Zwingli was killed and his body mangled beyond recognition. He was just 47 years old. He paid with his life for the truths he stood for. Martin Luther, John Calvin and others had gained prominence in Reformation, but no one can forget that Zwingli played an important role and worked tirelessly to weed out corruption and abuses of the Catholic Church in Switzerland. His role in reformation can never be forgotten nor overshadowed.

What a life! Do we not need a second reformation to cleanse today’s church of corruption, nepotism and deceit? Where are the reformers – in the Methodist church, in the CSI, in the Wesleyan, the Protestant churches in general? Will the Lord raise someone before His Second Coming to cleanse the church, or will He come first, punish the evil-doers and establish His kingdom and rule with justice and equity? Let us pray for the cleansing of our churches and the return of our Lord early. Let His will be done, Amen.   

The Life of St. Francis of Assisi

 

“The Life of St. Francis,” is an official biography of St. Francis, written in 1260 by the great scholastic theologian, scholar of repute, philosopher, and Catholic bishop St. Bonaventure, as commissioned by the Franciscan Order. St. Bonaventure himself was considered the greatest Franciscan mystic after St. Francis; he was born as Giovanni di Fidanza in 1221; he was just a boy of 11 years when he came in contact with St. Francis and was saved from an untimely death by the prayers of St. Francis. He entered Franciscan Order in 1243, became the Cardinal Bishop of Albano and was given the title “Doctor of the Church.” He suddenly died in 1274 while attending the Ecumenical Council, just a few years after St. Francis’ own death in 1226. He was known for attempting to integrate faith and reason. He was canonized in 1482 by Franciscan Pope Sixtus IV. Being Protestants, many of us, including me, do not know much about these exemplary saints and their lives and I thought I should introduce them to you. Having seen briefly about Bonaventure, we will now concentrate on St. Francis of Assisi.

St. Francis of Assisi was born in AD 1181 in Assisi, Italy, to a rich cloth merchant Pietro di Bernardone and lady Pica, their only son, and was baptized Giovanni by the mother and Franesco by his father. He grew up in material comforts and was a care-free child. As a youth of 19 years in 1201, to earn glory and honor, he adorned himself as a knight and went to join the war with Assisi’s rival Perugia. He was captured and spent a year as a prisoner. His father paid a huge sum as ransom to liberate him. In 1205 he again went as a knight, but suffered illness and received a vision leading to his conversion at his 23^rd year. Not satisfied with material comforts, he started to give away his wealth to the poor.

One day in 1206, as he was praying in a small church in San Domiano, he heard Christ speak to him from the crucifix, “Rebuild my Church.” When his father demanded him to return all the money he had squandered in charity to the poor and in rebuilding the church, he at the central plaza, in the presence of all the town people, stripped himself naked, gave back these rich dresses to his father and renounced his hereditary rights. The Bishop of Assisi who was there wrapped the naked Francis with his clock. Francis solemnized his wedding to the Lady Poverty and renounced all worldly goods, honors and privileges.

Francis engaged in prayers often and concentrated in inner devotion, the life of the heart. He was kind to all animals and birds. He called them his sisters/brothers. Chesterton called him ‘The court fool of the King of Paradise.’ He was gentle, with refined manners, patient, affable, and generous beyond his means. He was like the merchant in the parable who sold all his wealth to buy the pearl of great value (Mt.13:44-46). He was still not sure of God’s plan for him. One day, as he came riding a horse, he saw a leper, ran and kissed him, and gave him some money. After mounting his horse, he turned to see the leper, no one was found. He sang praises of God and left. He sought out lonely places and prayed incessantly. He saw Jesus Christ on the cross, which made him cry and sigh remembering the passion of Christ. He started to visit lepers and help them out. On seeing large number of poor in the church of St. Peter, he gave away his clothes to them and put on their rags and spent the day in the midst of the poor.

Having given up all earthly possessions and relationships, he went around as ‘the herald of the great King.’ He asked alms like a beggar and received it. He lived in a colony of lepers and served them – washing their wounds, bandaging them, and kissing their ulcerous wounds. God gave him miraculous healing powers. One leper who came to see him was healed miraculously. He begged for funds to repair the church of San Damiano. Once that was completed, he went and stayed in a dilapidated church in Portiuncula, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. He felt that angels visited this place often. He started his Order of Friars Minor here and started to preach the gospel. The truth of his simple living and teaching became known and some men were inspired to live a life of penance and followed him. They all adopted the humble life of Francis and were wedded to poverty and chastity. He wrote down the rule of life for those who joined him. He went to Rome to meet the Pope Innocent III to get his permission and he was given a mission to freely preach penance, gospel and the rules were approved as well.

Francis moved with his followers to the valley of Spoleto and started preaching. Instead of living alone for himself, he started to live for others, whose souls Satan was in the process of snatching away. He took shelter in an abandoned hut near Assisi, with his followers, now called friars (or monks, members of mendicant orders), and lived in poverty. They spent more time in incessant prayers. They studied the Word, day and night and taught by example about crucified life. Once as Francis was in prayers, seated apart from the other friars, they saw a fiery chariot of brilliance enter the hut and turn around it three times. It was like the eyes of the servant of Elisha which were opened to see the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire (2 Kings 6:17).

The little flock of twelve at Portiuncula steadily grew. They went around the villages and towns preaching the gospel in the power of the Spirit. Inspired by his example many joined the Order. Many miracles were performed by the grace of God. The number of the friars grew up to 5000, and they were provided with food and health by divine assistance. Soon provincial chapters were established and the order grew. Some of them saw Francis lifted up in the air inside the church with his arms extended as though on cross, blessing the friars. Directed by a vision Francis went to a nearby mountain with two of his companions where he fasted on bread and water and dictated the condensed form of the Rule for his order as moved by the Holy Spirit. The rules were confirmed by the Pope Honorius.

Francis was strict with his own body and kept the sensual appetites controlled with rigid discipline. He hardly ever ate cooked food. When he did, he would mix it with ashes and make it flavorless by adding water to it. He slept on the bare ground with a piece of wood or stone for a pillow. He was clothed in a single tunic and served the Lord in cold and nakedness. The passion for Christ which burned in his heart made him endure the cold outside. To lessen the softness of the tunic he wore, he used to sow pieces of cord inside to make it rough. He took care to douse even traces of carnal lust in his heart. In the beginnings of his conversion, he used to plunge himself in icy water for this purpose. He called his body ‘Brother Ass!’ He commanded his friars to avoid familiarity with women. He himself would scarcely look at the face of any woman. They were to entertain women only for confession or very briefly to give instruction to save their souls.

He also taught his friars to flee idleness, but work and keep busy so that the mind or tongue would not wander into unlawful things. They were to observe silence and not babble around. But excessive fasting, he avoided; they have to be prudent in the matter. He himself had reached such purity with his body and spirit in harmony with God. God ordained the creatures to serve his servant. Some of the friars who were close to him once observed heavenly music and lute playing, but could see no one, and realized it was a visitation from God’s angels to comfort his poor suffering servant. Once as he was crossing the river Po, it became night and pitch darkness enveloped them. But Francis confidently said the Lord can make darkness shine as light. Soon a great light began to shine around them and they safely reached their lodging, singing grateful songs praising God.

He would not allow his friars to hold offices, even ecclesiastic offices, because it could lead to their fall. He himself was humble to the core. He called himself, ‘the greatest of sinners.’ Once, the city of Arezzo was threatened by civil war. He saw with his spiritual eyes the city devils rejoicing and inflaming the citizens to mutual slaughter. He sent his disciple to go to the city gate and command the devils to leave the place immediately. On his command the devils left the place and the citizens resolved their problems amicably and the civil strife was avoided. He considered poverty as the foundation of the Order. Only those who gave away all possessions were admitted into the Order. He will not cease praying for any matter, until he knew he had been heard. Once when he worried about provisions for the friars, God responded saying, “I chose you for this because you are a simple man and what I would do in you would be ascribed to divine grace and not to human effort. I have called the friars; I will preserve and feed them.” This was a great lesson to him.

He saw Christ’s face in all the poor. He had special love for Mary, the mother of Jesus. He undertook forty days fast many times. When war was waging between Christians and Saracens, he went to meet the Sultan, knowing full-well the Sultan’s strict orders to bring him the heads of Christians. With great difficulty he met the Sultan and preached him the gospel. As he wouldn’t convert, St. Francis returned without accepting his gifts. Many healings and miracles were wrought through him by the Spirit, but there is no place here to mention everything.

Towards the end of his life, when he was on 40 days fasting at Mount La Verna, he had the vision of a Seraph and the crucified Savior covered by Seraph's wings. After the vision the markings of crucifixion – the Stigmata was imprinted on his body. The wounds, nails and bleedings were seen only by those who were very close to him, that too rarely, for he kept it all covered. Two years after the stigmata, his bodily weakness and sufferings from many illnesses increased and knowing the time of his death has come, he requested to be carried to the church of St. Mary of the Portiuncula. He said to his friars, “I have done my duty; may Christ teach you yours.” He called his sufferings his sisters! He had crossed his arms in the form of a cross over his body and bid farewell to the friars, addressing them as sons. He died in his early forties. He was buried in AD 1226 at Assisi and was canonized in AD 1228 by Pope Gregory IX. A basilica was constructed by his followers at Assisi and his body transferred there in AD 1230.

What a remarkable life! Wedded to poverty and devoted to Christ! He was a man of many miracles and exemplary life; a man on whom stigmata, the signs of the cross were imprinted; a kind-hearted soul, kind to humans, animals and plants. He pummeled his flesh to keep it under control, just as Paul said in 1 Corinthians 10:27, “I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself will not be disqualified.” St. Francis is the most illustrious example of this. We in 21^st century cannot even imagine a life like that, but we ought to know that there have been saints who had practically lived such a life, and were rewarded supernaturally. Praise to the Lord and all glory to him alone. Amen.  

 

One Part Woman: Can this be true?

This is a beautiful but tragic story of a young married couple deeply in love with each other, living in a village in the interior of Tamil Nadu, south India. As childless couple, belonging to the caste Gounder, they were exposed to extreme ostracism and jibes, which society, friends and family around imposed on them mercilessly, as common in such traditional societies. Motherhood was sacred and without that blessing a woman was nothing. She was barren. The husband was also exposed to ridicule as someone not up to the mark.

Perumal Murugan, the author had written the story in Tamil with all nuances and sensitivity (published in Tamil in 2010 and in English in 2014), and I read the translation which is equally beautiful. In Tamil it is called Maadhorubaagan, which literally means someone having a woman as a part of his body. This is applied to the Hindu god Ardhanareeshwara, who has part woman and part male, both Shiva and Shakti in his body. The story is woven around this god, who has one part of his body as woman. Hence the title “One Part Woman.” A few years back I remember Murugan was castigated and his life threatened for having written this novel, by the Hindu extremist groups who were extremely sensitive about Tamil and Indian culture, calling the work blasphemous. Disgusted with such horrid behavior, the dejected Murugan had vowed never to write again. But this controversial novel won him Sahitya Akademi’s Translation Prize in 2016. Fortunately, the author did not stop writing!   

Being deeply in love with his wife Ponna, the husband, Kali, refused to remarry to get a child, though he was under tremendous pressure. When the teasing and ridiculing became intolerable, Kali started to stay at home, going out only to attend to his farming duties in the field. Ponna had a sharp tongue and harangued the women who jibed at her barren status. Both were deeply hurt and to redeem their status in society hungered for a child. It becomes an obsession for them, not just for them, but for their close relatives as well. Ponnu’s mother and brother brought pressure on Ponnu to follow the traditional ritual practiced in Tiruchengode hill in Tamil Nadu a century back. In the annual chariot festival in the temple of Ardhanareeswara in this place, childless women will come alone to the temple, and take any interested male partner, who is considered ‘god’ for that time and the task, and has relationship with him. The child born of such a union is called ‘god-given child (Sami Pillai).’ The child is considered a gift from god and is accepted by the family and the husband also.

Ponnu was pressurized to follow this tradition by her mother, but the Kali would hear nothing of that. He was quite happy to live without a child rather than go through this ordeal. But one year, Ponnu’s brother lied to Ponnu that her husband Kali had consented to it and while her mother took her to the festival, the brother takes Kali away to a field to booze and sleep. Ponnu finds a young man and goes with him and yield herself to him. Kali wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to the house only to see the house locked and the people including his wife gone to the festival. He understands what has happened and goes mad with anger and despondency that his wife has cheated him. He calls her a whore and contemplates suicide. The story ends with that agonizing groan.

In 21^st century where ‘renting the womb’ and selecting from semen bank without even knowing the male partner, this ritual and tradition would seem hardly anything. But imagine some fifty or seventy years back! And the ridicule the husband would face till his death! And what the child would face from his peers! Hundred years back it would have been alright as society accepted the practice. But times have changed. It would have been difficult for Kali to accept it and live with it. 

The other question that arises is, whether such a tradition could really have existed, even hundred years back! Morality of Hindu society, would it have allowed such random unions? In a book written in 19th century (1848, to be precise), "Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies," the author, Abbe J.A. Dubois, a French missionary, but who took lot of interest in the development of Sanskrit language, has also written about the existing social and religious customs in the country. He had witnessed sati, the old custom of burning of wives on the funeral pyre of the dead husband. He also writes of a similar custom as in this story prevalent during his time in south India. In Tirupathi, childless women flock to obtain children from the god Venkateshwara (pg.593-594). The priests ask them to spend the night in the temple where they promise god himself will come, have relationship with them and give them a child. You can guess who goes in the night to have their desires fulfilled! In some temples in isolated places, during festival seasons of the deity, in January, women are promised children and they offer themselves to any person or persons to be fruitful. In a temple in Junginagatta on the banks of Cauvery, such a practice had prevailed (pg.596). So then, this practice seems to have existed quite widely! So much for morality.   

Well, India has progressed much beyond these horrid deceitful and hypocritical customs, mainly under the influence of Christianity, which they do not want to acknowledge today!    

 

Che Guevara: A South American Revolutionary

How does a revolutionary become so famous in the world? Even today we see his face on the tea-shirts and other memorabilia. Though born and brought up in Argentina, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara came to be revered all over South America or the Americas, for he dreamt of uniting the whole of Americas and evicting the exploitative colonial and imperial powers of his time, mainly the Americans. He was fearless, but ruthless in disciplining his forces, led an honest and devoted life, with great amount of self sacrifice to his avowed cause of liberating Latin America from the exploitative forces of the West. Well worth the study![1]

Ernesto was born as the eldest son of Ernesto Guevara and Celia on June 14^th 1927, who were whites of aristocratic family, but with declining fortunes. He had two sisters and two brothers after him. His parents were quite wild in the sense, Ernesto Sr. bought 500 acres of jungle and was trying to tame it and cultivate so as to restore the family fortunes, but nothing much came out of it. Mother Celia was adventurous, taking her two year old son for swims in the winter. He developed asthmatic bronchitis, which would accompany him throughout his life and give him breathless days and nights, inhibiting his own adventurous life. Even as a teenager, he was puny compared to his peers and was mostly confined to home, but devoured books in his spare time. By seventeen he had developed into an extremely attractive young man, with a devil-may-care attitude, contempt for formality and intelligent. He also indulged in daredevil stunts like balancing on pipelines over deep chasms, leaping from high rocks into rivers and bicycling along train tracts. He read voraciously from Freud to Karl Marx and Engels’ Das Kapital, Hitler’s Mein Kamp, and Lenin.

He studied to become a Medical Doctor, especially in the field of allergy-treatment, but his life would take him all over the world. He went for hitchhiking trip in 1948 and a solo motorbike trip in 1950, going to the remote regions of Argentina. On his travels into the country side he saw poverty, ignorance and sufferings among the native Argentine Indians, with no development but only exploitation, all of which moved him and he attributed it to neo-colonial exploitation by USA. In 1952 he travelled with another friend to through South America, Chile, Peru, Easter Island, and noticed the similar conditions of the poor black South American people. In these escapades he would suffer want, breakdown of vehicles, no place to stay, no money, etc., but somehow managed to hitchhike or take help from people connected with his family or his own medical profession. He would continue such travels and kept faithfully a diary throughout his life. These travels enlarged his views about life itself and he slowly would become interested in politics. He said, “I am not the person I was before. The vagabonding through our ‘America’ has changed me more than I thought.”

In 1953, in his 25^th year he received his medical degree. He refused to take a job locally and settle down as his parents wished, but started on a trip again to Venezuela, Bolivia, by train with a second class ticket, and some money collected from friends and relatives. He saw firsthand how people suffered in Bolivia’s mines operated by the state, exported to USA. Soviet-Communist expansion was on the talk, and America was resisting it during the Cold War. In Cuba, a group of young rebels were fighting against the government, including student leader Fidel Castro and his brother Raul. Ernesto with his friends crossed over to Central America, mostly consisting of ‘Banana Republics’ – Nicaragua, El Salvador, Costa Rica, and Caribbean islands, all dominated by USA. He got to observe the leftist revolution in Guatemala, and was awoken into political revolutionary ideas and started to get involved in it personally. He also got friendly with Hilda who was well read and politically oriented. She got him contacts and helped him find a job and also took care of him when asthma debilitated him.

He escapes CIA’s grasp from Guatemala, and with others regrouped in Mexico in 1954, and as Marxist guerrillas they would haunt American government for the next forty years. Mexico was an old Spanish colonial city, built on the ruins of Aztec capital; in fifties was a cosmopolitan city, a refuge to all communist aspirants of Latin America. He meets many exiled Cuban followers of Castro there. Ernesto had by now become a confirmed communist. Same year the newly elected President of Cuba, Batista, basically a dictator supported by USA and CIA, released Castro, his brother Raul and eighteen others from jail, quite an ill-advised move.

Cuba also became the whorehouse of the Caribbean, frequented by weekending Americans for drinking and gambling in night clubs and casinos. Castro now became the charismatic leader of the Cuban exiles, planning to overthrow Batista and capture power by guerrilla war. Ernesto gets to meet Castro in July 1955 who was just 28 then, and on his invitation joined his guerrilla movement at once. Ernesto was 26 by then, and would become Castro’s trusted right hand soon. Hilda and Ernesto gets married in August 1955. And when Castro was busy raising funds for his organization in USA, Ernesto kept himself busy with mountain climbing to keep himself fit for the oncoming war. He also took training in handling weapons. In February 1956, he became a father to a girl child, whom he called, ‘my little Mao.’ Very soon he would divorce Hilda and marry Aleida, with whom he had four children.

The guerrilla group, Castro and Ernesto with 82 revolutionaries, and guns  left Mexico secretly in November 1956 in a boat called ‘Granma,’ towards Cuba, known as ‘the 26^th July Movement’. They landed in a wrong spot, were spotted by Cuban coast guard and were attacked by government troops and were almost decimated. Many of them fled through sugar cane fields into the forest. Only 22 of the 82 regrouped eventually. Rest were either shot dead on surrender or disappeared. But they hiked the mountains, found some sympathetic farmers and in spite of the initial debacle, regrouped. By now Ernesto was being addressed ‘Che,’ “Che Guevara.’ The rebels with the help of sympathetic local population fought and captured power in Cuba, the first communist victory in the area. Che himself was becoming an audacious and reckless guerrilla fighter. He was very strict with soldiers and punished them severely for insubordination or desertion.

Che, though was instrumental in Castro establishing his rule in Cuba, knew well that he was an outsider, an Argentine national and had no place in the power equations of Cuba. One habit he picked up in Cuba was his fondness for smoking Cuban cigars. He worked relentlessly as the Minister of Industries of Cuba for many years building up Cuban future. He was involved in Bay of Pigs invasion by CIA and the Cuban Missile crisis. He met world leaders, including Mao and Khrushchev. He met Nehru but was not impressed with his pacifism.

Che was thinking of bringing in revolution like that of Cuba, in the whole of Latin America. Castro also encouraged him to look outside to plant his Marxist communist revolution. Argentina itself was not yet ready for such a war; Congo in African continent seemed to have scope and Che sent two missions to Congo to ferment a Marxist revolution, but it did not succeed. Next he took up personally campaign and insurgence in Bolivia. It ended disastrously. It was as if he knew he would die and still walked into it. In his last battle, October 8^th known as ‘the Day of the Heroic Guerrilla,’ his group was ambushed; he was captured by CIA-assisted Bolivian forces and was executed by being shot, in October 1967. He was buried with his companions in a remote and unknown place. Only in July 1997, his skeleton was discovered in the area of Vallegrande airstrip, Bolivia. His remains were flown to Cuba and interred in a mausoleum built to honour the ‘Heroic Guerrilla,’ who fought for Cuba.  

When he died he was just 39 and left behind his wife and five children. He had relentless hatred of the enemy, USA, whom he considered the greatest enemy of mankind. In this process of evicting the American presence in Latin America, he got transformed into ‘an effective, violent, seductive, and cold killing machine.’ He appreciated the success of Vietnam in throwing away the yoke of imperialism. To bring such a stage in Latin America, he was willing to die. He died for his cause. For him the highest step in the human ladder was to become a revolutionary. He became one. In his personal example he embodied selflessness, faith, willpower and sacrifice. He envisaged creation of a ‘new socialist man,’ who would be selfless, moral, and dedicated to the revolution. It never was to be. Nevertheless, Che’s political ideology had a great impact on Latin America and the world.

But the question is, was it worth it? Does the loss of so many lives and use of violence justify the ideology to free one’s country of imperialism by the West? Maybe Gandhi was shrewder and avoided such blood bath in India by advocating non-violent movement to overthrow the imperialist power of British Raj. Still he could do nothing to avoid the bloodletting that followed the partition of India into Muslim Pakistan and Hindu India. I am reminded of the fourth horse of Apocalypse, a pale green horse with the rider named Death and Hades following at his heals as if to collect the dead!

Maybe time has come for us to pray and long for the return of the Lord Jesus Christ, who will come and establish his kingdom on earth and rule with justice and fairness and equity. War will be no more. Maybe it will be utopian to expect such a rule from human beings, who are flawed since the very beginning.

“Come Lord Jesus, Marana tha!” Amen.     

 

 

  

 

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[1] “ Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life,” by Jon Lee Anderson, Bantam Books, Great Britain, 1997, Revised edition 2010, 730 pages.

Hinds' Feet in High Places

   

Hinds’ Feet in High Places

What a beautiful simile! ‘Hinds’ feet on high places!’ Two scriptural passages sing this most beautiful song: “He makes my feet like hinds’ feet, and setteth me upon my high places,” Psalm 18:33 (KJV). And, “The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places,” Habakkuk 3:19 (KJV). It speaks of mountain-top spiritual experiences, where we get just a glimpse of the glorious heaven and the throne of the Lord and him communicating with us! One can live on this one second or one minute experience for months and years on end. Whenever one feels down in the dumps, this vision will play in our minds and one gets energized and plunge back into the work given by the Lord with redoubled energy. How wonderful and how marvelous!

The missionary, Hannah Hurnard writes an autobiographical allegory, “Hinds’ Feet on High Places,” tracing the devotional life of a Christian from salvation to maturity. (hind is a red female mountain deer). Hannah was working in Jerusalem as a missionary and wrote this book in 1955, explaining in poetic language, how a Christian is transformed from being an unbeliever to immature believer and finally to a mature believer, having a daily close walk with the Lord with abundant joy and peace, not in heaven, but on earth itself. It is a victorious Christian life lived on earth. She sings the Songs of Solomon, repeatedly as an allegory where the Shulamite girl delights her groom, who calls her, “Open to me, my sister, my dove, my love, my perfect one,” (Song of Solomon, 5:2). She goes in search of him in his absence and finally is united with him in marriage.

Hannah was born in 1905 in Colchester, England to wealthy Quaker parents. She spent around 50 years in Jerusalem, until 1948 when Israel was reborn as a nation, having willingly surrendered her life to the Lord, to be shaped according to His will. She suffered from two terrible handicaps, one, she was stammering badly as she spoke, which made her an introvert and second, she had terrible fear of everything. She would never go alone anywhere, and had become a rebel though born and brought up by religious parents. But when she was nineteen years old, she attended a convention at Keswick in 1924 with her father and there she surrendered her stammering tongue to the Lord; he healed her of it, equipping her to go to Palestine and work among Jews. She died in 1990 in Florida, USA, where she was under treatment for her illness. Shall we turn to see what lessons we could learn from her experiences and her writing?

The heroine of the allegorical novel is ‘Much-Afraid,’ an orphan girl living in a small village called ‘Much-trembling,’ in the ‘Valley of Humiliation,’ with her relatives, the ‘Family of Fearings,’ living scattered all around her. She had taken employment under the Chief Shepherd as a shepherdess and took care of his sheep. This was not liked by her relatives, who hated the Chief Shepherd. They were trying to influence her to give up that work and to marry her cousin ‘Craven Fear,’ an abominable creature and settle down. When she refused, they forced her, almost abducting her. She escapes and runs to the Shepherd, who was waiting for her at the pool where they water the sheep. He offers to take her to ‘High Places,’ which is at the border of his Father’s Kingdom, the ‘Realm of Love.’ He also promises to make her feet like hinds’ feet, so she can skip and go leaping on the mountains and reach the High Places. But she will have to leave her family and cottage at the valley and journey along the path that he chooses for her, which would be a long way off and a difficult path too, the mountains being steep and dangerous. She will have to be changed completely and given a new name too. Was she willing?

She professes her wilful acceptance of the proposal and starts off with the Shepherd. First, he wants to plant the seed of true Love in her heart, so that when it grows and is ready to blossom, he can give her the hinds’ feet so she can come along with him to the High Places, and be loved. She agrees and he slips a sharp seed into her heart. It pained. He explains that to love would be to put her under the power of the loved one, and become vulnerable to pain. They start of for the High Places. On the way he teaches her that she must humble herself like the flowers that blossomed under their feet. These small flowers blossom and spread their love to all, unmindful of whether they are loved back or not. Human love expects to be loved in return; there is a longing to be loved and admired by the lover. The Love for which the Shepherd planted the seed in her heart will enable her to love even when she is not loved. Of course her seed has not yet blossomed. It would take time.

They come to a water fall where the water is falling down and rushing towards the valley, singing all the way, happy and cheerful, as it went down and down. The Shepherd explains that the river starts in High Places and journeys down to the lowest place in the world, poring itself in self-giving. As the Shepherd cannot accompany Much-Afraid all the way, he selects two dear companions for her, named ‘Sorrow’ and ‘Suffering.’ She hated them, but as she had promised the Shepherd that she will abide by his will, she accepts to go with them. On the way, her old relatives come and sow doubts in her mind, saying the Shepherd will not really take her to the High Places, but will abandon her on the way, and that she will have to return to the valley with them. In spite of the assailing doubts she continues the journey.

The path suddenly turns around to a desert instead of going up to the mountains. She refuses to move on, argues and calls the Shepherd that he is contradicting himself by making her go through a desert when he has said that he would take her to the mountains. The Shepherd asks her to trust him and to make an altar and place her rebelling will on it as an offering. With trembling hands she does it and a fire reduces it to ashes, but a stone was found left there and she is asked to take and keep it in her pouch as a memorial. She would collect 11 more such stones from the other altars where she is asked to surrender her other unwanted baggage.

In the desert they pass through Egypt and the pyramids. Shepherd takes her inside. In the ground floor workers were threshing grains and grinding them to powder. He explains that his people also are threshed and ground to a flour so that they might become bread for the use of others. In the next floor a potter was working with clay. Shepherd asks Much-Afraid, Can’t he do with her as the potter does with the clay so that she can shape her as per his will (Jeremiah 18:6)? Then he takes her to the highest floor where gold was being smelted and refined of all its impurities. Shepherd tells her that his rarest and choicest jewels and finest gold are those who have been refined in the furnace of Egypt. Near her hut she picks up a flower, ‘Acceptance-with-Joy’ and vows to be one. She collects her second pebble.

After the desert, the path she was following led her sea shore. She observes a cove there which was empty but soon filled with the rising tide. She realized though she was empty as the cove and was waiting for His time to be filled to the brim with the flood-tide of love. She collects another stone in memory of this transformation. Again her relatives ‘Resentment,’ ‘Bitterness,’ ‘Self-pity,’ and ‘Pride’ pursue her and taunt her saying she is stupid to trust this Shepherd who demands everything from her and gives nothing in return except sorrow, suffering, ridicule and shame. She plugs her ears with cotton so that she would not hear their poisonous suggestions. When she was alone Pride caught her and she cries for her Shepherd, who comes instantly and relieves her. She gets a stone to remember Pride being toppled. She is asked to wait patiently for the Shepherd to fulfil his promises to her.

Again instead of leading to the mountains, the path leads her to a desert. She couldn’t believe it. As she stands stupefied, Shepherd appears and asks her to lay her whole will as a burnt offering on an altar. She obeys and gets another stone as keep-sake. The seed planted in her heart has taken root and is growing slowly but steadily. When it blossomed Shepherd had promised to give her hinds’ feet and take her on the High places to enter the Kingdom of Love. She is thrilled. She is now led to the very precipice, to climb the steep mountains. She watches a hart and hind leaping from rock to rock and climbing higher. She refuses to go further, for it is sure death for her to leap like that. Her cousin Craven Fear shows up and promises her to take her back to the valley; she can marry him and be his little slave forever. She refuses even to call the Shepherd to come and help her. How to do the impossible? Shepherd comes anyway and asks her to lay on an alter her will, dread and her shrinking. She gets another stone and goes on to climb the precipice, by roping herself to her two companions Sorrow and Suffering. The climb was not that scary as it looked after all.

On the way she learns from a small flower that bravely puts forth her shoot and a single red flower, whose name was ‘Bearing-the-cost,’ or ‘forgiveness.’ The plant has suffered for what others had done to her, leaving her in a desolate place, but she had forgiven them and is blossoming on her own. Much-Afraid collects another stone from there and she tries to practice this lesson. Next she is led through danger and tribulation, a Forest of Danger, instead of the precipice leading to the mountains. She bawls, cries out that the Shepherd is deceiving her. Where are his promises? How much longer she must suffer like this? But the Shepherd assures with her, that even when she walks through the valley of death he will be with her and that no arrow will come anywhere near her. Though encouraged, soon her family arrive and laugh at her for what a fool she is to trust a bully who gives her nothing but difficulties and sufferings. Where are his promises? She too echoes these sentiments in her heart. She starts repeating the verse, “Though a thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousands at thy right hand, it shall not come nigh thee…” and kept progressing. A storm was brewing; fortunately they see a small log hut and lock themselves safely there waiting for a few days for the storm to abate. She kept softly repeating to herself, “He has covered me with his feathers, and under his wings I do trust.”

Still they were walking on level ground. Are they going round and round, in circles as her relatives were taunting her? Doubt clouded her mind. Discouraged she suggested going back and checking up the route. Her companions Sorrow and Suffering refused. With reluctance she walked on and stumbled and fell many times in the muddy soil and bruised herself all over. To overcome her discouragement, she started to sing, “How lovely and how nimble are Thy feet … On all the mountains there is no gazelle, no roe or hind, can overtake thee nor can leap as well …” It brought the delighted Shepherd to her! He washed and cleansed her. He then asks her a tricky question – If the whole world were to say that the Shepherd is deceiving her, will she still trust and follow him? What if he really deceived her? Will she still follow him? Much-Afraid had come to a stage in her spiritual life that she was willing even for this. She told him that he may deceive her, but still she will follow him only, because she loves him so much and that she cannot live without him.

Now the path again went straight down to the valley and not up in the mountain. She was desperate. She could turn back and stop following the Shepherd. It is her choice. But she couldn’t imagine her life without the Shepherd. What will she do? She realized she had no life without him. So she comes to the low point to tell the Shepherd, “You may deceive me, but only don’t let me leave you or turn back,” entreating like Ruth. As she walked in the Valley of Loss, she made up her mind to lose everything but not her Shepherd. But in her heart she shivers, “He will never be content until he makes me what he is determined that I ought to be,” and wonders “what he plans to do next, and will it hurt very much?”

Fortunately Shepherd comes and takes them in hanging chairs, like sky-chairs, to a very steep mountain, and they reach the very borders of the Land of Love, as he had promised. Now for the last time he asks her to sacrifice something, the very nature of her, the human love, that longing to be loved, to be placed on the altar as a burnt offering. She finds that she cannot do it by herself though she is willing. Shepherd helps her to root it out by thrusting his hands into her heart. It came out root and branches and all, for it was almost ready to be purged in any case. To her astonishment it did not pain at all! He said, “It is finished.” Now the seedling that Shepherd had planted can thrive and give blossoms.

Much-Afraid gets a new name, “Grace and Glory.” Her companions, Sorrow and Suffering became “Joy and Peace.” Her crippled feet were healed and she got the Hinds’ feet. They stayed there in the mountains for a few weeks enjoying unbroken communion with the Shepherd. But anticlimax comes - as she looked at the valley deep below, her heart ached that they should die without knowing her Shepherd. And they decide, encouraged by the Shepherd to go back to the Valley of Humiliation and be the mouth and hands of the Shepherd to being them also into his fold. She had become like the water fall, which sourced in the mountains, but descended happily to the valley, lower and lower, giving herself in abundant bliss to the others. Her own life would be like that, a self-giving love. She also realized that the Shepherd had brought her to the mountain only for this, so that she can pour out herself in self sacrifice for the others.

I have exceeded the self-imposed limit of four pages for my blogs, but this wonderful story had to be told in greater detail. I didn’t feel like omitting anything from the account. What a rich narrative! God in his mercy bring each one of us to the mountain tops, so that we can go low and yield ourselves completely to Him, so that his agape love grows in our hearts and it becomes easy to serve him and serve others. Amen.

God bless you all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Quite on the Western Front

 

"All Quiet on the Western Front”

This is a book describing a German soldier’s experiences in the World War I, which I had always wanted to read, but managed to read only now. It is written by Eric Maria Remarque, originally published in 1928, and I got to read the translation published in India in 2021. It is a tragic story. The book was banned in Germany itself during Nazi era, that the book could demoralize young recruits! When I saw that this book has been made into movie and recently vied for 2023 Oscar nomination and lost to “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” but still walked away with four awards, including one for the Best International Feature film, my resolve to write a blog on it became firm. And here is the story.

A bunch of boys, mere teenager school students, 18 and 19 year olds, stirred by the patriotic speech given by their Schoolmaster, to be frank the whole class, volunteers to join the army to defend their Fatherland in World War I. They were taken to the Western front after training and some 22 of them were in the same unit and underwent untold miseries of war, especially trench warfare of yesteryears. With constant shelling from enemies, lack of provisions and even water, living in dirt and mud, they fight to defend their Fatherland, due to someone else’s ambition and desire for control other countries. Paul, one of these boys is the narrator and through his eyes the author paints us a graphic picture of the war front experiences.

I am not going into the graphic details of the war and the sufferings, but touch upon only the effects on these boys. Many get killed and maimed by bullet wounds, and the young boys soon grow old in their own eyes, no longer young. Paul says contemplatively, “We are not youth any longer.” They are emotionally drained, shaken and scared psychologically for life. Paul goes home for a brief vocation, but could not find anything common with his own village and home. He feels like a foreigner, a stranger, and hardly feels at home, except for his attachment to his mother, who lay dying. He returns to the battle field. In the trench shoots an enemy soldier and watches him die in agony. He feels bad and apologizes to the dying man, and vows to return his wallet to his family. But soon gets over it.

He and some of his friends were posted to guard a supply depot in a village and for some time they eat well out of the provisions and enjoy themselves. But it ends soon, and he and another friend get bullet wounds and get admitted in Catholic hospital. There, while Paul was recovering, his friend’s leg had to be amputated. His friend’s eyes kept following Paul’s good legs as he walked around and Paul noticing this learnt to walk outside his friend’s cot. 

One by one most of Paul’s friends kept falling to the bullets. The war was ending and the German troops were retreating. Finally a good friend and a mentor, a bit older than the boys, by name Kit, gets hurt by a shrapnel and Paul carries him from the trench and dashes to the nearby camp, but on arrival he finds that Kat had died by a stray splinter in his head at the back. Kat was talking to Paul just a few minutes back. Paul couldn’t comprehend it. He loses all interest in life after this. For him to live or die would be of no consequence. Their lives got twisted by the war and got wasted. He can no longer get back to civilian life and be happy in it. War had changed him totally. A generation had lived, matured and died in the trenches of the war.

In October 1918, almost at the end of the war, Paul also gets killed hit by a bullet, as he leaned out of his trench to touch a butterfly that alighted on his trench. His dead face was calm and serene. On the day he died, the announcement of the army report from the front said, “All quiet on the Western front.” May be after all Paul found happiness and peace in his death. It looks as if death was his savior for he would have lived in night mare after having lost almost all his friends and having to adjust to the civilian life for which he was fit no more. Seeing people die on the battle field of bullet wounds and fire does something horrible to the psyche of a soldier. Army officers and politicians, who gamble the lives of such innocent boys and men, do not understand these travails. As the war raged later on boys were brought in to the front without much training even, just to die as canon-fodder.

Reading this book was an eye-opener to what the young soldiers go through in the front and in the trenches and the horrors of starvation, death and sufferings, all for man-made ambitions and search after power. Promising lives were lost in this mayhem. We see Putin’s ambition to re-establish the Soviet Union and its glory once again has led to the war in Ukraine; how many lives have been lost, young and old, on both sides, including civilians on Ukraine’s side. How many sons and husbands lost to their families and civilians uprooted from their own homes, and living as refugees in other countries? What madness is this? And when will all these end?

I recall a verse from the Bible, “And they (nations) shall beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning-hooks: nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore” (Isaiah 2:4). There will be peace and prosperity with no madness about war and death and decimation. When will this prophecy come true? I think only when Jesus Christ returns and establish his rule on earth; only when he comes as a King and destroys all these earthly rulers and their madness. Along with every other believer in Christ, lets also respond to Christ’s announcement that, “”Yes, I am coming soon,” with “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.” (Revelation 22:20).     

Pondicherry - a Travelogue

 

Two years of Covid-19 scare, during which time I was busy betting Total Knee Replacement surgeries done to both my knees, my travel itch was surfacing now and then. February 2019 was my major outing, trip to USA to see my grandson; 2020 was quiet without any trip. Not that I did not stir out, for in December 2021 with another lady friend, I took Rani Chennamma train to Londa, onward to Old Magazine House and the Jungle Lodges at Ganesh Gudi, on the recommendation of an IFS (Indian Forest Service) officer, spent two days and a night checking on all the winged creatures there, for this Jungle Lodge is famous for bird watching; saw also Malabar giant squirrel and many exotic birds. After a coracle ride in the waters, went on and halted at a beautiful place called Castlerock, thanks to the advice of another Forest Office, a member of my church, and took some adventurous local train journeys to go and watch the fabulous Doodh Sagar falls; walked on the railway tract and entered a dark tunnel under disuse to reach the place. Though it was not the season, the falls was fabulous. That was a memorable trip. That December I went to Chennai to be with my brother’s family and had a beautiful Christmas with them.

2022 started on a low key, but the travel itch was very much there and in September with my brother, I went to Ranchi on a private visit. Then came 2023! Now no holds barred! Trips one must take! But, where to go and with whom? Difficult questions! Sure enough I remembered some all women group tours organized by agencies like Wanderlust of Women (WOW) club and Wander Womanya. There was a trip to Pondicherry in Jan. 21-24 in the latter; I just jumped in. Though I have been to most of the places in India, I hadn’t been to Pondi, which is surprising because I am from Chennai and Pondi is so close to Chennai.

Well, on 21.1.2021, met with some fourteen women, some young girls, some slightly older ladies at Chennai airport and along with the ‘tour buddy,’ Asmita, herself a young girl, we all left in a traveler towards Pondicherry. It was silent for everyone was tired; for example I left my home at 3.30 am that day to catch the flight and reach Chennai airport. Girls from Bombay and Ahmadabad and Delhi had all started quite early to reach Chennai by flight. We stopped on the way at a hotel called Manna near Thozhupadu and had our vegetarian thali food. It was good. We all started to talk to each other and get to know each other better. We reached Hotel Sarguru by 3 pm; having gone alone I was put up with the tour buddy and may be that was the best thing to have happened. The girl Asmita was very sweet and accommodative. After a wash and refreshing ourselves we set out to visit Promenade Beach. At Promenade beach we simply walked up and down; took lot of pictures; it was like Marine Drive in Mumbai, but not that crowded. There was a Gandhi statue and school children were rehearsing Republic Day parade. A bit ahead there was a Nehru statue as well. We had ice cream at Gelateria, had something to eat and returned to the hotel for a well earned sleep.

Next day we left for the French Colony in Pondi. We roamed about the streets in that colony, took some pictures, but had no clue about the architectural specialties of French construction! They were all painted bright yellow, and had lot of greenery around them; many have been converted into small and big restaurants to cater to the needs of the tourists. A memorable visit was to the Sacred Heart Basilica, with beautiful stain glasses all around and at the altar. There was another smaller catholic church, Our Lady of Angels. We went in and around it too; St. Francis Assisi seemed to be the patron saint over there.

After lunch at Hope Café, we went on to Paradise or Sand Dune beach, where we had the opportunity to play in the waves and the waters. We giggled and laughed and played among the waves like young girls; age was forgotten, especially for me! I behaved like someone who is 37! Age reversals are a beautiful thing! Some of us visited Nehru street and Mission street where ladies’ garments, palazzos and tops were dime a dozen and quite cheap too. Tired legs alone dragged us back to the van and to the room.  

The last day in Pondi, we were up and marched off to Auroville, the City of dawn and the universal town established by Mother 1968, proclaiming Human Unity. Some people from 80 countries live there now. First we visited the Swaram Museum, where in the open air, big pipes and harps stood and a Taiwanese resident of the Ashram, an old and jolly good fellow demonstrated each musical instrument and allowed us to play them too. Most visited Matri Mandir, the temple of the Mother, when I was busy visiting the boutiques, where things were costly, but I was able to pick some tit-bits here and there. After lunch we headed to the third beach, the Serenity beach. There are huge rocks making enclosures of the beach so that the in-between beach is calm and serene. We climbed up the rocks, sat on the top enjoying beautiful and peaceful views all around. More adventurous one went till the very edge of these rock fortresses. I must admit, two girls held my hands on either side and helped me climb down in a almost perpendicular climb down. No need for any shame at my age! On return to the Hotel, almost all the girls refreshed, dressed up and went to a pub, LB2 Restaurant. Of course I didn’t go and ordered food to my room. Others went and enjoyed themselves.

Before we bid good bye to Pondi, some girls visited Sri Aurobindo Ashram established by Aurobindo Ghose in 1926, an Indian philosopher who died in 1950 in Pondicherry. We then travelled to Mamallapuram to visit the shore temple, etc. That I think was a mistake. We landed there almost at mid day when the sun was hottest and we went to the shore temple first instead to the Five Rathas. After the shore temple, people had to be literally dragged to see the Arnun’s penance and the Rathas. No one was in a mood, with the stones and rocks, however beautifully sculptured, reflecting hot sun’s rays. Well, may be pleasure and history on stones should not be combined! We had our lunch at a Chettinad hotel and returned to Chennai airport. I got dropped off on the way nearer to my brother’s place, and had wonderful two day with my brother’s family and returned to Bangalore on 28^th evening.

Wow Womanya! That was a great trip. I had my apprehensions how the young and mod girls will vibe with an oldie like me, but the girls proved to be excellently well disposed to each other and to me. Some even befriended me to know the secret of getting out on trips like this at my age! Mamata from Mumbai “interviewed” me at quite some length at the breakfast table! Kusum from Ahamedabad, one who was the heart of the group with her tic-toc dances, who recorded the group in a dance sequence individually and in a group, very confidentially asked some gyan from me as I have lived so long! My trepidations fully dissolved!

The bed and breakfast were good at the hotel. There was an array of almost all south Indian breakfast items in the buffet and the north Indians enjoyed themselves. I enjoyed it too. Broke my resolve not to eat sweets, and went ahead with ice creams! It was a nice break, nice group and a nice travel buddy and room-mate. The weather was kind, (except on the last day at Mamallapuram!) and we enjoyed our roaming in the city. Well, some shop-keepers did not even know that Pondicherry had been renamed as Puducherry, until we told them. I personally prefer Pondicherry or even Pondi for short.

Hoping for a nice break like this in some time to come, may be after some six months, if God willing. Let me thank my Lord for giving me this lovely break with the

                                                     Swaram museum

Matir Manthir

Hope Cafe at French Colony

Beach near the Stone Temple, Mamallapuram

Asmita at Serenity beach on the rocks

Me in front of a French building

Nehru street with lights

Basilica

lovely ladies. Praise God!

A Christmas Story

 

Though Christmas is over and one is surfeit with cakes and biriyani and of course wine, the season with its carol songs and Merry Christmas greetings still lingers in the air and rings in the ear. So I think it is quite alright to write a Christmas story for my blog. I haven’t written for a long time and I think it is good to write one before the aroma of biriyani wafts into the air and disappears!

Can you imagine a Christmas story that starts with ghosts? Yes, this one does. I am referring to the novel, “A Christmas Carol” written by Charles Dickens in the year 1843. Quite inappropriate that I read this story meant for children only now, after retirement! They say in old age one behaves like a young child. May be I am in that stage!

This is the story of a businessman by name Scrooge, who with his partner Marley, had been running his business of a counting-house, in today’s parlance, a sort of bank in England. After the death of his partner some seven years back, Scrooge is running the business on his own, without changing the name of the firm, “Scrooge and Marley.” Scrooge is a miser, tight-fisted and a covetous old man. He is also self-contained and solitary. He didn’t like anyone greeting him or sticking a conversation with him in his office or on the road. Nobody dared to do so too. In his office, even in winter, he wouldn’t spend money for warming himself and his clerk, who had to warm himself at the candle.

One Christmas season his nephew came wishing him Merry Christmas. Scrooge’s response was “Bah! Humbug!” His principle was a person as poor as his nephew had no business wishing anyone Merry Christmas. What is merry about Christmas for a poor man like him in any case? Then his nephew asks him, why is he not happy and celebrate Christmas cheerfully when he is rich! His uncle would have none of that. The nephew goes off saying Christmas is a kind, forgiving, charitable and pleasant time and his uncles is missing the whole Christmas spirit. But Scrooge refuses his nephew’s dinner invitation and dismisses him off grumpily.

Another two men come seeking some contribution from Scrooge for the poor and destitute during Christmas time. You think Scrooge would open up his purse or heart? No way! He tells them to advice the poor to go the workhouses and get benefits under the Poor Law. His policy again is not to make idle people happy. If the poor die, then in his opinion, it is good because it will reduce the surplus population. Well, what do you think? The two gentlemen quietly withdrew. He even refused paid-holiday to his clerk for Christmas. Next he chased off a boy singing Christmas Carol at his door. Now you know what sort of man Scrooge is. Well, someone ought to do something for him – may be smack him on his behind!  

As Scrooge returns home and warms up some food and starts to eat it, he discerns another figure in his bedroom, Marley, his dead partner’s ghost! It strikes a conversation with Scrooge. Trembling Scrooge asks why he is visiting him now. The ghost regrets that while he lived he was similar to Scrooge, unkind to the poor and the people and now he is in chains and roaming the world for the sins he had committed. He warns Scrooge not to continue these mistakes and become like him at his death. He can still correct himself. Marley’s ghost says three more ghosts will visit him, one after the other, sharp at twelve at night.

First ghost promptly appears at 12 midnight. It calls itself the “Ghost of Christmas Past.” It takes Scrooge for a ride outside to the place where Scrooge was born and brought up. Scrooge recognises the place and the school he studied. A boy was sitting alone in the school, Scrooge! Then they went in to a dilapidated, cold but big mansion. Scrooge was there as a small boy all alone shivering in the cold reading a book. Scrooge had tears in his eyes when he saw himself so lonely and neglected as a boy. Now he wishes he had not chased the boy who came singing Carol to his place. Then the ghost takes him to the shop keeper where Scrooge had worked as an apprentice. He saw how the master invited him and other boys and how they all had a wonderful and merry Christmas party in his home. Then he sees himself as a young man in love, but his ambition was to make money. The girl releases him from the commitment, because she realizes that he is after money and not love. Later she was married, though poor yet lived a happy life. On Christmas day her husband comes in bringing lot of small Christmas gifts to her and their children. This also the ghost shows him. Scrooge is heart-broken seeing all these, realizing how miserable he had been, thinks he has learnt a lesson. Has he, really?

Next night the next ghost appears, and introduces itself as the “Ghost of Christmas Present.” This ghost takes Scrooge to the streets where boys are running around delightfully and homes are celebrating Christmas with friends and families. Even in that winter cold people were happy and cheerful. They both went to the suburbs – to the house of Scrooge’s clerk. Even they had a good Christmas dinner and were rejoicing, in spite of having a boy who was crippled. They even drank to the health of Scrooge! Everywhere people were wishing each other Merry Christmas and the spirit of Christmas and cheer were overflowing. Then they visited the home of Scrooge’s nephew. They also were enjoying with one another Christmas dinner.

Next comes the third ghost, the “Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.” It is about the future. It takes Scrooge to a group of businessmen, who were talking about the dead Scrooge, who had died alone in his bed! They spoke so ill of him! It would be a cheap funeral they said! No one said one good or kind word about him. Unloved, unsung, unattended he had died. On seeing this, the horror of it strikes Scrooge, who vows that he will become a changed man, so that he wouldn’t meet such a lonely and despicable end. Good for him!

At home he sobbed violently, then he got up, ran out and wished a boy on the street Merry Christmas. In one night Marley’s ghost and the three other ghosts had really done a great job and Scrooge was a changed man. He went to the church, smiled at people, visited his nephew, raised the salary of his clerk, and generally became a kind and helpful gentleman.

So ends the story. Charles Dickens beautifully shows the transformation of a miser into a liberal and kind man, who helped everyone. This is a simple story, emphasizing the importance of Christmas spirit of sharing, and loving, and wishing peace and happiness to all. Didn’t the angels sing,  “Glory to God in the highest heaven, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”

Is any one of us like Scrooge? Better change for good, or else one might get a visitation from the Christmas ghosts!

Wishing you all Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. God bless you all.