“I was probably around 6 or 7 when I went to my mother with a tummy ache. She suggested that we pray and ask Jesus to take the pain away. Right there and then He did, and I made up my mind that God must be real; He had heard and answered my prayer, and I just knew He loved me.”
The closest I have come to musical heaven is when I heard GC Jr. sing “Via Dolorosa” at the church in Hosur. It is one thing to hear a recording of Sandi Patty (Libertad Me Das) sing the song effortlessly with the best speakers or earphones one could afford. But, I was there in person as GC beautifully rendered the song. As he sang and played the piano to accompaniment, he moved between the high and lows quite effortlessly including at the long sustain in the last sentence of the second last stanza. The transition to Spanish was smooth. Never have I heard someone sing like that! The music and the voice stayed in my ear for weeks to come.
Religious music has always been a part of me since childhood. I have enjoyed singing or listening to the hymns of old with one among my many favourites being “It is well with my soul” written by Horatio Spafford. Of the contemporary musicians, I would say Michael Card is the best I have listened to with his thoughtful songs. I also like a few of gospel singers like the ones in the Homecoming series arranged by Bill Gaither. And yes, I was part of the church choir and sang tenor during my school days. If it were not my strong belief that musicians and computer engineers are half nuts and that I would become a full nut by learning to play an instrument (Yep. Donald Knuth is one!), I would have definitely learnt to play the piano or the violin or at least the guitar (everybody at church plays the guitar)! Sigh! Now, I sincerely wish I hadn’t let the opportunity pass.
The best part of Hosur church is the music and the choir. The very first thing that I look up in the program manifest is for a special by the choir. A couple of weeks back, I listened to almost perfect rendering of “O Sacred Head“. A few weeks before that it was “Dona nobis pacem” in English and Latin. Even if there wasn’t a special, the doxology, the offertory and the recessional would be more than enough. There are always those piano pieces played during meditation, as a benedictory response and when the offering is being collected. I must admit that if it were not for the music, it would be a little harder for me to travel fifty kilometres every week to attend church.
Last week on Saturday, I travelled to Hosur to attend church. A banner saying, “I am a Lamb. Feed me.” was hanging outside the church. It was Children’s Day. All the programs of the day were being presented by children, from the tiny tots to the early teens. The adult choir had also been replaced by a children’s choir. I watched the children sing, recite verses, preach and act out skits. As they brought a smile on the faces of everyone sitting at church that day, I was reminded of the times that have gone by.
My father’s great grand dad was a Christian. He was probably the first Christian in my father’s line. His son, my dad’s grand father, was a Christian worker. My father tells me that he laboured hard to spread what he thought was the good news among his people. My grand father, followed the example of his father and became a literature evangelist. So, it is not surprising that my relatives are very proud of their Christian heritage. On the other hand, my mother, who was born a Hindu, underwent great trouble when she became a Christian along with the all of her siblings. Ostracised, she was not able to visit her home for a long time until they eventually reconciled. Both my parents work in the education system run by a church, the very same system that I was educated in and the very same church that I continue to attend.
It is said that my namesake preached about forty thousand sermons in his life. A reformer, who was often at odds with his church, he rode on his mule from place to place and preached to the common masses in the open air. A man of prayer, a legend is often said of how the floor at his bedside is scarred from all the kneeling that he did. When my parents christened me, I think that they wished that I would someday be a preacher like him. From the day I was born, my parents took me to church every week. My mother told me of the time when I was a toddler, I walked up to the altar and toppled the mike stand. I must have not liked the preaching!
Talking of preaching, even now, there are very few preachers who can hold my attention. Homolytically, and the same holds for lecturers as well, I prefer teacher preachers with a high information density in their preaching. It would also be great if they were to state their premises and beliefs up front and base their teaching purely on the Bible since that is the foundation of the Christian faith. Since it is not exactly the preacher’s fault that I am not suited for his style, I mostly retreat to my thoughts (or mathematics as I have been doing recently) during sermons that don’t hold my attention. There are a handful of preachers that I have come across who hold my attention. And I haven’t seen a few of them in person. I watch their preaching online!
As I grew older, I attended the Sabbath school classes for kids where I sang songs, listened to stories from the Bible, took part in plays and skits, memorized verses from the Bible and prayed. Every week, each kid was supposed to learn one verse from the Bible. At the end of every quarter, every kid repeated the verses from memory in front of the whole church. Every thirteenth sabbath was a trauma for me. So, one fine sabbath, I wrote down all the verses on the palm of my hand and read from it when it was my turn. That was the last time I ever had to recite verses from memory!!
When I was about nine or ten, my mother got me a Bible story book. Published by Zondervan, it was written in simple English that could be understood by kids. I read it from cover to cover and read it over and over again. Later, my mother decided that I was old enough to understand the Bible in simple English and mandated half an hour of Bible study every day before dinner. My knowledge of the Bible grew exponentially and it was encyclopaedic. Many a times, I have been asked by quiz masters at churches to allow other church members to answer and answer only if no one else knew the answer. In some churches, I have been banned from quizzes!!
So, here we have a good Christian boy. He was born into a family with a proud Christian heritage. He was educated in Christian institutions. He has more than average knowledge of the bible and theology. He attends church regularly, pays his tithe and takes part in activities as well. If only, it were that that simple! One is does belong to a faith or religion by heritage. One does not belong to a faith by upbringing. Last but definitely not the least, one does not belong to a faith by tradition or by following customs sincerely. According to me, there is one and only one criteria and that criteria is a faith experience.
The thief on the cross had his faith experience during the brief conversation before his death. “And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss” (Luke 23:41) Paul, the man responsible for Christianity spreading to Rome and eventually to the rest of the world had his conversion experience on the road to Damascus. “And he trembling and astonished and said, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” (Acts 9:6) Paul, known as Saul before his conversion had quite a dramatic faith experience. The martyrs of Rome, the converts in India and the rest of the world, Augustine, Jerome, Luther, Wesley, Wilberforce, Moody, Hudson, Luther King, Graham… each and every one of them had an intense faith experience. Be it any religion, Hindu, Islam, Buddhist or atheism there can never be faith without a faith experience.
So, when will I have my faith experience? Will it be after I finish writing this post or in the months to come? Will it be this year or the next? Will it ever happen in my life time? What is it never happens in my life? Do I perish? What if my faith teaches something that is against the premises that I currently use to base my decisions?
How will my faith experience be? Will my faith experience be just a state of my mind? How can I be sure that I am not being blinded by emotions when my faith experience happens? What if I am hallucinating? Will the faith experience be the same if I were to come back and read this post? I believe a faith experience, as strong or dramatic as it can get, will definitely find answers to all of these questions. And that is the single most important reason, if not the only reason why a faith experience is important for faith.
Baptism, by immersion during adolescence, is usually the mark of acceptance of the faith in my church. Most people get baptised on graduation from school. I much older than that, having completed my schooling, college and about two years in a job. It bewilders my parents, pastors and members of my church and my friends on why I am not baptised yet!!
The quote at the beginning of this post is from Fiona Peart and the one at the end is from Lisa Williams. Faith is beautiful in its simplicity. And faith is meaningless without a faith experience.
“I miss having religious faith, but trying to have it seems like trying to be in love with someone that you are not in love with.”
To My Friend, Russell: A colleague at work introduced me to Bertrand Russell in a comment on one of my posts on education. From the time I met him, I have come across his views and opinions on a lot of issues, though mainly on education. Russell concurred with me on many of my ideas. I would write a post and then run into Russell’s comment on the matter in discussion. My friends would run into Russell’s thoughts and then share as they would reflect mine. This post is where my good friend Russell and I would differ: “Yet”.
