After the trip with the first-years, now it's time for a slightly different trip with the second-year philos (philosophy scholastics) from DNC. We're going to Goa in a few minutes and hope to catch up with our brother in the Society, St. Francis Xavier.
Update (25/10/09): Just got back yesterday morning after a 24-hour period when we spent nearly 18 hours on the bus; so I've been recovering ever since! A report and photos of the Goa trip will have to wait till Thursday or so. First, we scholastics of DNC have a Triduum (Lat. "Three days"; a three-day Ignatian silent retreat) after which we will renew our perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. I've only seen the renewal of vows once before (at the British Province Meeting earlier this year in Swanwick) and it was a very moving experience. Yes, it is a private affair (Jesuits and close associates only, I'm afraid!), but it isn't hard to imagine the emotional force of two hundred young men jointly re-committing themselves to total dedication and self-giving in the service of the Lord. Pray for me!
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
The Cave Temples (Part 2)
The second day of the Ajantha-Ellora trip was a much more hectic affair. Our first port of call was the fort at Daulatabad. The fort itself is fairly impressive and more or less impregnable in medieval times. Nevertheless, I find myself a little weary when it comes to fortresses – once you've seen one impressive fort you've pretty much seen them all (Tower of London, Lal Qila / Red Fort etc.) unless there is some special personal reason why a particular fort is of significance (e.g. the Tower of London was more a personal pilgrimage because of the many Jesuits interned there and subsequently martyred). Most of the scholastics decided to climb the 750-odd steps to get to the top of the fort; I decided to conserve my energy for the caves of Ellora which, if they were half as impressive as Ajantha the previous day, should not be missed because I had too little energy. Instead, I had the opportunity to wander around the grounds and meet our primate cousins!
Then the cave temples at Ellora. Like those at Ajantha, the Ellora temples, too, were carved out of solid rock and entire temples are, effectively, a single block of stone. In fact, the Kailasha temple (Temple N.16) at Ellora is the biggest monolith in the world. However, where Ajantha was entirely Buddhist, Ellora has Buddhist, Hindu and even Jain temples. The Ellora temples are spread out over a much larger area and the terrain is not as precarious. There are also more caves than at Ajantha ("cave" is a misnomer for these structures since, as one guide pointed out, they were not constructed from existing natural caves but were created artificially). While the artwork at Ellora was not as impressive as those at Ajantha (very little evidence of murals have survived and the sculptures are not as intricate), the engineering is most certainly impressive. When I saw two- and three-storey temples carved out of the rock-face I had to ask, how on earth did they do it? The sheer imagination, planning and coordination, the determination and skill of execution needed makes my head swim. For instance, did they start at the top and build their way down? The interior spaces are also much larger; where each Ajantha temple might accommodate on average 200 devotees, you could fit over 1,000 into Ellora's multi-storeyed monoliths.
As at Ajantha, I tried to compose the space as it must've been in the 7th-8th century AD when devotees must've streamed here in the thousands from all over the region. Torches or, perhaps, oil lamps must've lit the corridors and prayer halls. The Ellora temples seemed to be younger by a few centuries than their Ajantha counterparts. Artistically, one can also see greater evidence of Hindu-Buddhist hybrid styles at Ellora. In the Dashavathara temple (N.15), there seemed to be evidence that the Buddha was already being venerated by Hindus as one of the dash-avathar (lit. "Ten incarnations" or "ten descents"): ten instances when Lord Vishnu, one of Hinduism's chief deities, took human/corporeal form to combat injustice on earth (the two most famous of these avathars are Lord Rama and Lord Krishna). At the Kailasha temple mentioned earlier (pictured right), there were so many people I thought the temple was still used as a place of worship! As with the previous day, I was conscious of being on holy ground, sites sanctified by the devotion and piety of thousands of seekers of the divine, the transcendent ground-of-being.My one regret was that our programme did not allow a whole day at Ellora. We only had a couple of hours before we had to get moving; I only got to Cave Temple No. 16 (of over 30!) in that time. I certainly hope I'll get the opportunity to go back some day and, this time, I hope I can convince an expert on Indian temples and religions to give me a running commentary!
On the way back, we stopped at the tomb of Aurangzeb, the last great Mughal emperor. Aurangzeb was undoubtedly a man of great personal piety; he was assiduous in his study of the Qur'an and practised great austerity of life. When he died, he left strict instructions that he be buried in a simple tomb with no great edifice or gardens to commemorate him. Aurangzeb was also one of the most religiously fanatical of India's Muslim leaders and left behind him a legacy of religious oppression of Hindus and Sikhs that endures in common memory to this day. It was an interesting experience visiting his tomb and reflecting on the tension between his apparent personal holiness and public cruelty. Indeed, one is left reflecting on the relationship between religious absolutes and violence. Does all dogma lead, eventually, to violence? How and should religious truth be asserted?
We eventually got back to Pune around 11pm after having supper at a road-side dhaaba (a working-class eatery by the highway that acts as a rest stop, mainly for all-night truckers).
Monday, 19 October 2009
The Cave Temples (Part 1)
The first semester here at DNC ended just last Friday with the end of semester examinations. We now have a two-week break before the new semester begins. It is customary for the philosophers (philosophy scholastics) to go for a sight-seeing trip to either the Ajantha/Ellora caves or Goa (first and second-years respectively) during this period; theologians (theology scholastics) are free to join either group. All scholastics will have a 'Triduum' (three-day silent retreat) next week before we renew our vows in a special mass. (Left: the first-year philosophers of DNC - I'm second from right, top row)
The first-year philosophers didn't hang around very long after the end of exams; the Ajantha/Ellora trip began at midnight on Friday itself! First, there was a six-hour bus ride to Aurangabad (named after Aurangzeb, the last great Mughal emperor – more about him in Part 2), where we had been provided accommodation in the assembly hall of the high school run by the Holy Cross sisters. There was just enough time to wash up before we had Mass (pictured right) in the hall. The young sacristan had forgotten to bring a Bible along for the Mass readings, so my pocket copy of fellow-British Province Jesuit Fr. Nick King's translation had to come to the rescue. Although we didn't have hymn-books, I was very impressed by how well the scholastics sang many well-known English hymns (“As the deer pants”, “Take our bread” and so on) from memory; many of them have only learned English within the last 7-8 years since joining the Jesuits!
Breakfast, then another three-hour ride to our first major stop – the cave temples of Ajantha. The caves were hewn out of solid rock-face in a beautiful valley, where the river makes a U bend, nearly two-thousand years ago. In fact, the oldest cave temples here date back to the 2nd century BC. You cannot help but be impressed at the manner in which rock-cutters and sculptors must've worked decades in those times, hundreds of feet above the ground. But that isn't all, the craftsmanship and artistry of Ajantha can be admired as masterpieces in their own right. Perhaps it is the combination of cool breeze and lack of sunlight, but many of the cave paintings still retain their colour and lustre. And the brush work is so fine I needed to borrow a pair of binoculars at times to see the detail!
Like the vast majority of tourists there I was busy admiring the artwork when a Buddhist family from Bhutan (probably) came in and bowed to the massive figures of the Buddha. I was suddenly embarrassed to realise that I was standing on holy ground. This might be a cultural trip for me; for some it's a pilgrimage. How many times have I bemoaned the apparent lack of reverence of tourists in cathedrals in England? Who has the greater moral claim over historical sites of religious significance – governments representing the cultural interests of the general population, or adherents of those faiths? Personally, I have come to believe the true beauty or impact of a religious site can only be experienced when it is used in religious worship; it is then that dead hallways and sculptures come alive as spiritual spaces and icons. Wandering the caves of Ajantha, I tried to compose the scene as it must've looked like 15 centuries ago when Buddhism was at its peak in India; as thousands of pilgrims flocked to worship and pray even as construction work proceeded on new temples; as Buddhist monks spent their days meditating in Spartan cells in the caves; as the cave walls glittered with the brilliance of the latest techniques in mural painting and sculpture.
After lunch, we returned to Aurangabad, stopping on the way to enjoy two more sites – Bibi ka Maqbara (literally, “The Tomb of the Wife”; a scaled-down replica of the Taj Mahal built as a tomb for a local nobleman's wife) and the Panchakki (an aqueduct / water-mill system that is a fine feat of medieval engineering). Then supper, before retiring to bed after a very long and tiring, though illuminating, day.
Like the vast majority of tourists there I was busy admiring the artwork when a Buddhist family from Bhutan (probably) came in and bowed to the massive figures of the Buddha. I was suddenly embarrassed to realise that I was standing on holy ground. This might be a cultural trip for me; for some it's a pilgrimage. How many times have I bemoaned the apparent lack of reverence of tourists in cathedrals in England? Who has the greater moral claim over historical sites of religious significance – governments representing the cultural interests of the general population, or adherents of those faiths? Personally, I have come to believe the true beauty or impact of a religious site can only be experienced when it is used in religious worship; it is then that dead hallways and sculptures come alive as spiritual spaces and icons. Wandering the caves of Ajantha, I tried to compose the scene as it must've looked like 15 centuries ago when Buddhism was at its peak in India; as thousands of pilgrims flocked to worship and pray even as construction work proceeded on new temples; as Buddhist monks spent their days meditating in Spartan cells in the caves; as the cave walls glittered with the brilliance of the latest techniques in mural painting and sculpture.
After lunch, we returned to Aurangabad, stopping on the way to enjoy two more sites – Bibi ka Maqbara (literally, “The Tomb of the Wife”; a scaled-down replica of the Taj Mahal built as a tomb for a local nobleman's wife) and the Panchakki (an aqueduct / water-mill system that is a fine feat of medieval engineering). Then supper, before retiring to bed after a very long and tiring, though illuminating, day.
Indian Jesus Mosaic / TabernacleThursday, 15 October 2009
DNC: First Impressions
I arrive at DNC before dawn after a 30-hour train ride from Ernakulam (Kerala), a 1,400km journey. It is hard to make out anything beyond the silhouettes of trees on either side of the drive up to the house (and it's impossible at that hour and that state of wakefulness to accurately judge even the length of the drive!) and a dark, forbidding house that stretches away into the shadows on either side. Once inside, the corridors felt labyrinthine. I am shown the philosophers' chapel on the way to my room. Mass is in just half an hour, so I make my way there in the dark.
A single incandescent bulb (which may or may not pass current EU regulations) is lit in the chapel. A silent scholastic starts preparing the altar for Mass. Other silhouettes meditate silently seated on the floor in the lotus position. I have brought my copy of Morning & Evening Prayer (Collins: London, 1976) with me, but it's too dark to read. I take up a position off to the side of the chapel. Then the scholastics (both philosophers and theologians – since this is exam/holiday time) start streaming in. Communion hosts are dropped into a special paten of traditional Indian design for the offertory. Hymn books are passed out. At 7:40am, the Mass begins.
I remember reading somewhere that over 20% of the Indian population speaks English. At over 200 million people, that makes India second only to the United States as the largest English-speaking nation in the world. At DNC, the medium of communication is usually English (except when scholastics/priests meet in province groups.) The daily Mass, too, is in English. But it's Indian English – English in a distinctively Indian lilt and rhythm, idiom and connotation.
Hans-Georg Gadamer highlighted the importance of linguistic/cultural tradition in understanding and interpretation. Given the importance of philosophical hermeneutics at JDV, it's not surprising that the liturgy and normative liturgical spaces at DNC have been interpreted with great intelligence and sensitivity within an apparent pan-Indian tradition. A larger-than-life painting of the Risen Jesus in the lotus position under the wisdom tree adorns the sanctuary wall of the chapel. The readings are read from a pedestal similar to the ones used to support the holy books of other faiths. The altar is a low table behind which the priest-celebrant sits on the floor. I may yet reflect more on this as the days and weeks pass.
After Mass, a hurried breakfast in a great hall with the sounds of over 100 young philosophers trying to swallow down pancakes with coconut chutney, have a pleasant chat and revise their points for the exams – all at the same time.
I'm tired, so I return to my room for a nap.
A single incandescent bulb (which may or may not pass current EU regulations) is lit in the chapel. A silent scholastic starts preparing the altar for Mass. Other silhouettes meditate silently seated on the floor in the lotus position. I have brought my copy of Morning & Evening Prayer (Collins: London, 1976) with me, but it's too dark to read. I take up a position off to the side of the chapel. Then the scholastics (both philosophers and theologians – since this is exam/holiday time) start streaming in. Communion hosts are dropped into a special paten of traditional Indian design for the offertory. Hymn books are passed out. At 7:40am, the Mass begins.
I remember reading somewhere that over 20% of the Indian population speaks English. At over 200 million people, that makes India second only to the United States as the largest English-speaking nation in the world. At DNC, the medium of communication is usually English (except when scholastics/priests meet in province groups.) The daily Mass, too, is in English. But it's Indian English – English in a distinctively Indian lilt and rhythm, idiom and connotation.
Hans-Georg Gadamer highlighted the importance of linguistic/cultural tradition in understanding and interpretation. Given the importance of philosophical hermeneutics at JDV, it's not surprising that the liturgy and normative liturgical spaces at DNC have been interpreted with great intelligence and sensitivity within an apparent pan-Indian tradition. A larger-than-life painting of the Risen Jesus in the lotus position under the wisdom tree adorns the sanctuary wall of the chapel. The readings are read from a pedestal similar to the ones used to support the holy books of other faiths. The altar is a low table behind which the priest-celebrant sits on the floor. I may yet reflect more on this as the days and weeks pass.
After Mass, a hurried breakfast in a great hall with the sounds of over 100 young philosophers trying to swallow down pancakes with coconut chutney, have a pleasant chat and revise their points for the exams – all at the same time.
I'm tired, so I return to my room for a nap.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Introduction
Who am I?
I am an Indian-born Jesuit scholastic (i.e. student training for the priesthood) of the British Province. I entered the Jesuit British-Irish joint novitiate at Birmingham, England in September 2007 and made my first profession of the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience in September 2009. I am currently pursuing my studies in philosophy at Jnana Deepa Vidyapeeth (JDV), the Jesuit formation centre in Pune, India and a member of the De Nobili College (DNC) Jesuit formation community. For more details on Jesuit formation, please visit the British Jesuit Vocations website.
Who is this blog for?
This blog is primarily about my experience of Jesuit life, formation and studies at JDV/DNC. It is intended, in the first place, for family, friends and well-wishers who want to know how I'm getting on; but if you're someone interested in becoming a Jesuit or simply interested in Jesuit spirituality, life or formation today, I hope you will find these pages helpful.
Why is this blog called An Unworthy Knight?
Between 1521 and 1541, St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556), the founder of the Society of Jesus (aka 'The Jesuits') gathered together his spiritual experience and his experience of aiding people in the spiritual life in a little manual called The Spiritual Exercises (SpEx). Intended for retreat directors directing spiritually committed people through a 30-day retreat, the SpEx is a collection of various “spiritual exercises” (analogical to physical or mental exercises) for the retreatant through four phases called 'Weeks'. In the 'Second Week', Ignatius asks the retreatant to consider the call of Christ to each one of us to participate in his mission of redeeming the world:
I am an Indian-born Jesuit scholastic (i.e. student training for the priesthood) of the British Province. I entered the Jesuit British-Irish joint novitiate at Birmingham, England in September 2007 and made my first profession of the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience in September 2009. I am currently pursuing my studies in philosophy at Jnana Deepa Vidyapeeth (JDV), the Jesuit formation centre in Pune, India and a member of the De Nobili College (DNC) Jesuit formation community. For more details on Jesuit formation, please visit the British Jesuit Vocations website.
Who is this blog for?
This blog is primarily about my experience of Jesuit life, formation and studies at JDV/DNC. It is intended, in the first place, for family, friends and well-wishers who want to know how I'm getting on; but if you're someone interested in becoming a Jesuit or simply interested in Jesuit spirituality, life or formation today, I hope you will find these pages helpful.
Why is this blog called An Unworthy Knight?
Between 1521 and 1541, St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556), the founder of the Society of Jesus (aka 'The Jesuits') gathered together his spiritual experience and his experience of aiding people in the spiritual life in a little manual called The Spiritual Exercises (SpEx). Intended for retreat directors directing spiritually committed people through a 30-day retreat, the SpEx is a collection of various “spiritual exercises” (analogical to physical or mental exercises) for the retreatant through four phases called 'Weeks'. In the 'Second Week', Ignatius asks the retreatant to consider the call of Christ to each one of us to participate in his mission of redeeming the world:
“... whoever wishes to come with me has to be content with the same food I eat,
and the drink, and the clothing which I wear, and so forth. So too each one must
labour with me during the day, and keep watch in the night, and so on, so that
later each may have a part with me in the victory, just as each has shared in
the toil.” (SpEx [93])
A response to such a call cannot be taken for granted:
… [Consider how] good subjects ought to respond to a king so generous and kind;
and how, consequently, if someone did not answer his call, he would be scorned
and upbraided by everyone and accounted as an unworthy knight. (SpEx [94])
All progress in the spiritual life, including and especially Jesuit formation, calls for a continuous renewal of one's commitment to answer the call of Christ no matter what the cost, trusting in the hope of Christ's eventual victory over darkness, injustice and sin. I hope that, as you read these pages, you will say a little prayer for me in my ongoing formation and spiritual growth as I will be doing likewise for you.
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