CG
10-28-03, - 08:18 PM
To many people who criticize religions are, as Ram Dass, an American Hindu teacher says, a "Connoisseur of Clay Feet." They are looking for the failures, in religion or in the oneness of all faiths and in the people who follow what they believe. Sadly, one does not have to look far! We all fail. We all have "Clay Feet." We all mess up, sometimes badly.
Religions are "set up" and start with good intentions but over time they often drift into a self-serving system that forgets the real reason it was "originated." That is all the "Connoisseurs" see. But there are always followers of any religion that keep in their hearts, and their actions, the real reason for the faith.
We must be aware of the "clay feet" but we must look for the "Golden Heart." I have seen the gold, so have you! Perhaps I have seen more than you because that is my job. I want to tell you a story of two men of gold. One was a Hindu, the other a Roman Catholic.
Many years ago I found myself in India. I was looking for someone to teach me Hinduism. As luck would have it, I soon found a man, a Swami, who was willing to teach me. One day I was in his class - just he and I. An old woman came it. She was wringing her hands in distress. She spoke with the Swami. I could not understand them as they spoke in Hindi. When they had finished, he turned to me and said. "Boy! Today you will learn Hinduism - come!"
All three of us piled into his old Ford and we drove to the outskirts of the city. In time we arrived at an old run down house. The Swami asked me, "are you afraid of Slims?" Slims was the name for AIDS. "No." I lied. My teacher knocked, then placed his ear to the door to listen for a reply. Nothing came. He was about to knock again when a second old "bone-shaker" of a car pulled up. Out stepped another old woman and a Catholic Priest. The Priest and the Swami embraced. They were old friends. I was introduced to the Priest. As we shook hands he asked me, "are you Hindu?" "No, I said. I am Buddhist." "Buddhist? Buddhist?" he yelled, "I know many Buddhist - wonderful people! Now break the door down kid!" It was the work of a moment to push in the old rotten door. The stench that assaulted our nostrils was undescribable!
We entered the hot, dark room only to find its owner, a young woman of about 20 years, lying on her bed covered in her own body wastes and swarming with flies, but she was alive. The look of horror and pain in her eyes haunts my dreams to this day. The two Holy men rolled up their sleeves and without a moments hesitation began to clean her up.
"Food, boy! She needs food" yelled my teacher. I had money to buy food, that was ALL I had! With the help of the old ladies I was able to go out and buy rice, a mild curry and some chapatties - enough to feed us all. By the time I got back the house was smelling better. The windows and door were open and light flooded the once dark dwelling. The woman was sitting up in bed, cleaned and smiling. She was thin and death was not far away but she was smiling! Her soiled sheets had been replaced by the blankets the men with golden hearts, and yes, clay feet, kept in their cars.
I set out the food. "A blessing Father?" Said the Swami to the Priest. He blessed the food. "A prayer Swami?" said the Priest to the Swami. When he had finished they both turned to me. "A Buddhist blessing please?" I did my best, poor as it was! Then we all fell on the food. The woman, as ill as she was, was able to force down a few morsels. Both men took turns feeding her from their own plates. We all talked. We laughed. We hugged. We prayed. There was no talk of whose theology was the best. There was a poor soul before us who needed comfort, not just of the body but the soul as well. We talked of Christ, of Krishna, of the Buddha.
I later learned that she was a prostitute, but neither of the Holy Men judged her. The two old ladies, one Hindu one Catholic, were afraid to enter a house infected with AIDS unless their Holy Men were in attendance.
I later learned that the Priest liked a drink or two. That the Swami liked to smoke. "Clay Feet" for a Holy man? Perhaps, but the "gold" of their compassion was far greater.
That day I did learn Hinduism. I also learned Catholicism and just about every "ism" there is. It is called compassion. "Clay Feet?" We all have them. What I, and you, should seek is the "Golden Heart." There is the face of God! Seek it! It is there!
From. "Spiritual Short Stories." By CG (unpublished.)
This posting it too long but if you would like to hear the end of this story and how this woman died and what happened after, let me know. If I get three replies that show interest, and make some comment, I will end the story. Let us see how many really want to learn about the Golden Heart.
Religions are "set up" and start with good intentions but over time they often drift into a self-serving system that forgets the real reason it was "originated." That is all the "Connoisseurs" see. But there are always followers of any religion that keep in their hearts, and their actions, the real reason for the faith.
We must be aware of the "clay feet" but we must look for the "Golden Heart." I have seen the gold, so have you! Perhaps I have seen more than you because that is my job. I want to tell you a story of two men of gold. One was a Hindu, the other a Roman Catholic.
Many years ago I found myself in India. I was looking for someone to teach me Hinduism. As luck would have it, I soon found a man, a Swami, who was willing to teach me. One day I was in his class - just he and I. An old woman came it. She was wringing her hands in distress. She spoke with the Swami. I could not understand them as they spoke in Hindi. When they had finished, he turned to me and said. "Boy! Today you will learn Hinduism - come!"
All three of us piled into his old Ford and we drove to the outskirts of the city. In time we arrived at an old run down house. The Swami asked me, "are you afraid of Slims?" Slims was the name for AIDS. "No." I lied. My teacher knocked, then placed his ear to the door to listen for a reply. Nothing came. He was about to knock again when a second old "bone-shaker" of a car pulled up. Out stepped another old woman and a Catholic Priest. The Priest and the Swami embraced. They were old friends. I was introduced to the Priest. As we shook hands he asked me, "are you Hindu?" "No, I said. I am Buddhist." "Buddhist? Buddhist?" he yelled, "I know many Buddhist - wonderful people! Now break the door down kid!" It was the work of a moment to push in the old rotten door. The stench that assaulted our nostrils was undescribable!
We entered the hot, dark room only to find its owner, a young woman of about 20 years, lying on her bed covered in her own body wastes and swarming with flies, but she was alive. The look of horror and pain in her eyes haunts my dreams to this day. The two Holy men rolled up their sleeves and without a moments hesitation began to clean her up.
"Food, boy! She needs food" yelled my teacher. I had money to buy food, that was ALL I had! With the help of the old ladies I was able to go out and buy rice, a mild curry and some chapatties - enough to feed us all. By the time I got back the house was smelling better. The windows and door were open and light flooded the once dark dwelling. The woman was sitting up in bed, cleaned and smiling. She was thin and death was not far away but she was smiling! Her soiled sheets had been replaced by the blankets the men with golden hearts, and yes, clay feet, kept in their cars.
I set out the food. "A blessing Father?" Said the Swami to the Priest. He blessed the food. "A prayer Swami?" said the Priest to the Swami. When he had finished they both turned to me. "A Buddhist blessing please?" I did my best, poor as it was! Then we all fell on the food. The woman, as ill as she was, was able to force down a few morsels. Both men took turns feeding her from their own plates. We all talked. We laughed. We hugged. We prayed. There was no talk of whose theology was the best. There was a poor soul before us who needed comfort, not just of the body but the soul as well. We talked of Christ, of Krishna, of the Buddha.
I later learned that she was a prostitute, but neither of the Holy Men judged her. The two old ladies, one Hindu one Catholic, were afraid to enter a house infected with AIDS unless their Holy Men were in attendance.
I later learned that the Priest liked a drink or two. That the Swami liked to smoke. "Clay Feet" for a Holy man? Perhaps, but the "gold" of their compassion was far greater.
That day I did learn Hinduism. I also learned Catholicism and just about every "ism" there is. It is called compassion. "Clay Feet?" We all have them. What I, and you, should seek is the "Golden Heart." There is the face of God! Seek it! It is there!
From. "Spiritual Short Stories." By CG (unpublished.)
This posting it too long but if you would like to hear the end of this story and how this woman died and what happened after, let me know. If I get three replies that show interest, and make some comment, I will end the story. Let us see how many really want to learn about the Golden Heart.