This last Sunday, I had the privilege of attending an interfaith lecture on Hinduism and Buddhism at the Tri-State Buddhist Temple. We heard from Yogacharya Srinidhi Baba of the Kriya Yogic tradition who spoke on the history of the Sanantana Dharma (also known as Hinduism) in India, as well as the nature of God-Realization and the Soul in Vedic tradition.
We then heard from the Venerable Claude d’Estrée, who is a lineage holder in both the Tibetan Gelugpa and Korean Son traditions, as well as a professor of the University of Denver. He discussed some of the basic tenets of Buddhism, addressed the differences between Hindu and Buddhist conceptions such as karma, dharma, and the soul (atman). He then taught a meditation in mindfulness colloquially known as the raisin meditation.
This event is one in a series of lectures on different religious traditions organized by the Youth Interfaith Group of St. Paul, Denver. The next lecture is on Judaism and Islam, and will be hosted at the Denver Islamic Society Mosque (2124 S. Birch St) at 2:30 on March 1st. We hope to see you all there.
Showing posts with label hinduism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hinduism. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Monday, November 10, 2008
Soul Food
This post originally appeared at Aurora University's Monthly Musings archive in January 2007:
Soul Food
I enjoy visiting our local Hindu temple, especially on weekends. On Saturdays and Sundays, it’s full of people, and the place is awash in a rainbow of multi-colored saris and flower garlands. The aromas of burning incense waft about, and the Sanskrit prayers are a real treat. That makes sight, sound, and smell. Since it would be bad form to touch the statues, that only leaves one sense: taste.
The temple itself is only one part of the complex. There’s also an auditorium. But the real gem for me is the attached dining hall. On the weekends, the kitchen churns out all kinds of wonderful foods; chakkulus, murukulus, masala dosa, idly, mango lassi, and a host of other palate-defying tastes. I usually shoot for the tamarind rice with some chakkulus on the side. The rice is nice and spicy, and you get a lot of bang for your buck. But on my last visit, I was notoriously lacking in the “buck” department.
I hadn’t brought any cash, and the change in my pocket wasn’t going to cut it. The lady at the counter asked me if I wanted anything, and I told her that I would have to pass. And so I left. I was halfway across the parking lot when shouts from the temple entrance caught my ear. Someone was waving to me to come back. Uh oh. What did I do?
Apparently, word of my fiscal ineptitude had spread, and as I reentered the dining hall, I was led over to the kitchen and instructed to order whatever I felt like. I tried explaining that I could not pay, but the woman I had spoken to earlier smiled and said, “This is a temple. No one goes hungry here.”
And I didn’t go hungry. I had a large masala dosa with potatoes and sambar and chutney. People kept coming by and asking how I found the food. I had offers for mango lassi, which I declined, but I was brought water and more smiles.
As I drove away, satiated both physically and otherwise, I was reminded again just how deeply such generosity is built into our world’s religions. This wasn’t my first head-on collision with hospitality, and it certainly won’t be the last, but I am consistently floored by such tiny events. They always seem to reaffirm my hope for things and, in the case of munchies, give a whole new meaning to the term “soul food.”
Soul Food
I enjoy visiting our local Hindu temple, especially on weekends. On Saturdays and Sundays, it’s full of people, and the place is awash in a rainbow of multi-colored saris and flower garlands. The aromas of burning incense waft about, and the Sanskrit prayers are a real treat. That makes sight, sound, and smell. Since it would be bad form to touch the statues, that only leaves one sense: taste.
The temple itself is only one part of the complex. There’s also an auditorium. But the real gem for me is the attached dining hall. On the weekends, the kitchen churns out all kinds of wonderful foods; chakkulus, murukulus, masala dosa, idly, mango lassi, and a host of other palate-defying tastes. I usually shoot for the tamarind rice with some chakkulus on the side. The rice is nice and spicy, and you get a lot of bang for your buck. But on my last visit, I was notoriously lacking in the “buck” department.
I hadn’t brought any cash, and the change in my pocket wasn’t going to cut it. The lady at the counter asked me if I wanted anything, and I told her that I would have to pass. And so I left. I was halfway across the parking lot when shouts from the temple entrance caught my ear. Someone was waving to me to come back. Uh oh. What did I do?
Apparently, word of my fiscal ineptitude had spread, and as I reentered the dining hall, I was led over to the kitchen and instructed to order whatever I felt like. I tried explaining that I could not pay, but the woman I had spoken to earlier smiled and said, “This is a temple. No one goes hungry here.”
And I didn’t go hungry. I had a large masala dosa with potatoes and sambar and chutney. People kept coming by and asking how I found the food. I had offers for mango lassi, which I declined, but I was brought water and more smiles.
As I drove away, satiated both physically and otherwise, I was reminded again just how deeply such generosity is built into our world’s religions. This wasn’t my first head-on collision with hospitality, and it certainly won’t be the last, but I am consistently floored by such tiny events. They always seem to reaffirm my hope for things and, in the case of munchies, give a whole new meaning to the term “soul food.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
