Vegging Out

veg

verb /vej/ 
Relax to the point of complete inertia

I’ve spent most of the last week vegging out in the community (when I’m not at or preparing for or reflecting on the Holy Week liturgies, that is.) A bit of reading, plenty of DVDs and box-sets, some surfing (of the electronic variety).

Working in a school environment where I am constantly on the go, it’s easy not to notice just how much of my energy derives from the young people I am constantly in contact with.

So, holidays come as something of a shock to the system. A welcome shock, mind you, but a shock nevertheless. During term-time, there’s almost not enough time in the day. There’s class preparation, correction, organising school events and trips, being present at or participating in extracurricular activities etc. etc. (but mostly class preparation for me).

Weekends can be quite busy too. In the last few months, there have been a number of meetings of Jesuits on during the weekends, which can mean a bit of travelling. Jesuit life is not for the couch potatoes!

There is great joy to be found in working with young people. The energy and enthusiasm, as I’ve indicated, is infectious. But their openness and idealism can be quite refreshing too – especially in these hard times. Which is not to say I shouldn’t keep my eyes open! Discipline is the least pleasant aspect of my ministry, but an extremely necessary one. All that energy, if not channelled into constructive activities, can be wasted at best, or turned to destructive purposes at worst.

In reminiscing about his time at Manresa, St. Ignatius of Loyola felt that God dealt with him as a teacher instructing his pupil (Autobiography, Chapter III). Maybe that’s why Jesuits are so involved in education – the roots of our spirituality lie in a student-teacher (or, in Indian terms, guru-shishya) relationship with God. God not only gives us gifts and graces, but also teaches us what to do with them.

Next week, I’m back to Britain for a meeting of younger Jesuits; and then it’s back to school for the final, hectic term before the summer break – so I hope to enjoy my “vegging” time as best I can for now!

Our Brother Francis

(As promised, my reflection on the Goa trip follows.)

Goa: land of sun, beaches, verdant woods, parties. And, as one brother scholastic pointed out, the second most-active hotspot for child prostitution in the world (after Thailand). For Jesuits, Goa is also the birthplace of the Indian mission (now, with nearly one in four Jesuits worldwide, the Jesuit Conference of South Asia) and the resting place of one of the founders of the Society of Jesus – St. Francis Xavier SJ. Or, as our rector calls him, “our [elder] brother Francis”.

Every year, the second-year Jesuit philosophers at De Nobili College, Pune make a pilgrimage to Goa during the Deepavali (Diwali) term break in October. I was kindly invited to join this year’s expedition by our rector. This was my first time in Goa but, after a rough 12-hour overnight bus journey, I would rather have been at home in bed!

The first day, we visited the relics of our brother Francis at the Bom Jesus church in Old Goa. As a trans-continental Jesuit, I have drawn much inspiration from Francis. We were especially privileged to have a mass in the enclosure with the relics, presided over by the rector of the Jesuit community there. Many years ago, I blogged in defence of Francis’s legacy in India. Now, in the presence of the great missionary himself, I prayed for myself, the Society of Jesus and especially for the Church in Europe, birthplace of Francis and the Jesuits. Walking around Old Goa and seeing the remains of churches and monasteries built there by the Jesuits and Augustinians was a moving experience. It’s also interesting to note, from a European perspective, how orders transposed and adapted European architectural conventions in a very different land: the ruins of the magnificent St. Augustine’s monastery being the case in point.

After visiting a few more places in Panjim (capital of Goa), we retired to our base for the trip – the guest house of the Jesuit retreat house on Baga beach. It was wonderfully relaxing to be in a house right on the beach. And, of course, I was ready for bed!

The second day was a designated “rest day”; I had the chance to dip in the Indian Ocean (since it’s not as cold as the Irish Sea, I didn’t have to get out within 15 minutes!) and visit the local shops. The third day we visited the Jesuit tertianship at Raia and also the oldest church in Goa, built by the Jesuits. This is also where the Goan Jesuit martyrs were first buried. In my noviceship, I had made a presentation on the Jesuit mission to the Mughal court; Bl. Rudolf Acquaviva and the other Goan martyrs were an important part of the story.

Then another 12-hour bus ride (this time, thankfully, less bumpy!) back to Pune and rest!

Going to Goa

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!

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).

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.