Rakshabandan - Bond of Care

An Indian custom I never paid much attention to until recently is Rakshabandan or Rakhi, a Hindu tradition of tying a band made of silk threads on a brother's wrist by his sister for protection. Brought up as a minority Christian in India, it was not a custom I knew much about. The other day, a vestry member of Indian descent at Gloria Dei, where I serve as its interim, told me how much she had appreciated the tradition of Rakhi when she was growing up in Northern India. It piqued my interest. 

 

The more I learned about this practice, the more I appreciated it, especially when envisioned, understood, and practiced universally. We are all our siblings' keepers. Jesus calls for an expanded version of this concept in his call to extend our concern, care, and love by going beyond our blood relations to even our enemies. Jesus, after washing his disciples' feet and told them to do likewise as an outward symbol of their love for each other. Then he said, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another." In other words, our gospel call is not to limit ourselves to be just keepers of our immediate siblings. Instead, we are to see the whole of humanity as our siblings and to be keepers of each other. 

 

Building on the tradition of Rakhi, the communications committee at Gloria Dei Church decided to act as keepers of a few students at the college where I studied in India. https://youtu.be/B2ViOFpnu-8The pandemic and the subsequent lockdown severely affected these students whose situation was already dire due to their socio-economic context. The committee's proposal to raise funds to help the students through the sale of Rakhi Bands among the church members and friends found wide acceptance not just at Gloria Dei but beyond as well. As this initiative fits in with the Bishop's goal of the diocese and the Anglican Communion, he made a large donation. It also became the first-ever recipient of a mission grant from the Diocesan Global Mission Committee. What a great initiative! It has helped us create a bond of care between these students and us halfway across the globe. 

 

Rakhi is celebrated in India on Sunday, August 22. On that same day, Gloria Dei, too, will be celebrating our Bond of Care service by exchanging rakhis with each other during the time of peace. On this day, we will hear how a local church can use a tradition from another culture, religion, or land to engage in God's mission of care and concern for the struggling siblings of that land. We will also hear how engaging in such a mission would help our congregation become closer, more loving, and united in our purpose and being. Exchanging rakhis within our community and helping students with funds from the sale of rakhis are visible symbols of God's grace and love that is present in our congregation. I am proud of Gloria Dei for its parts in God's mission.        

 

Kabir, Our Grandson

        Susan and I had a fabulous time with Ranjit and his family during the Christmas Holidays in New London, CT.  If Manju could also have joined us, it would have been perfect. Air travel restrictions in California made Manju cancel her flight to be with us over the holidays. Instead, our time with her was reduced to a WhatsApp video chat. Still, it was good. 

 

        Our time there was enjoyable and exciting, especially because of our grandchildren. Dhruv’s energy and creativity kept us, his maternal and paternal grandparents, alert and active. Baby Kabir, our brand-new grandson, was a sheer delight to carry around. As difficult and dark as the 2020 was, it also had some joyful and bright spots, one of which for us was Kabir’s arrival into our family.  Kabir was born eight weeks preterm, unlike his eight-year-old brother, Dhruv, who was fourteen weeks preterm, but thanks be to God that both grandchildren are now as healthy for children their ages. 

 

        Traditional societies like the one I grew up in give much significance to the year of one’s birth. The year of Kabir’s birth, 2020, was like no other.  It was the year I questioned my judgment the most since becoming a U. S. citizen back in 1985. Unlike so many people, Susan and I had a choice to be citizens here. Thinking that it would give our children a better future and broader opportunities to try out their destinies, Susan and I threw our lots to be here.  Despite its past failings and its treatment of natives, black people, and non-white immigrants, the concept of the American Dream and the hopeful belief that the arc of the moral universe bends toward justice gave us the needed backing for our decision.  

 

        However, over the last few years, especially since the election of the current president, I have noticed how the American dream is increasingly becoming out of reach and how the arc of the moral universe has stopped bending towards justice for many vulnerable communities. The onset of the global pandemic on our land and our inability to control its spread laid bare a whole slew of societal maladies and hitherto for unquestioningly tolerating white supremacy, patriarchy, and systemic racism.   Historically marginalized and oppressed communities under a power structure designed to benefit the white male hierarchy became conscientized and demanded fairness and justice.  People of color died of COVID in a disproportional percentage than their white counterparts because of a health care system designed to make profits over people’s diseases.  Overt police brutality of black bodies, the most public example being the killing of George Floyd, set off demonstrations and rallies all across the United States. While the economy went south for most of our people, the stock market kept breaking record highs. While all this was happening, the leader of the “free world,” sought reelection by doubling down on the motto, “Make America Great Again,” a euphemism for white supremacy and patriarchy. Though soundly beaten in a democratic election, the fact that over 74 million people (mind you our fellow citizens), voted for this racist, sexist, xenophobic, and megalomaniac person with an authoritarian and totalitarian mindset make me quiver and ask myself, “did I choose a right place for my grandson, baby Kabir?”  

    

 

        Another significant thing traditional society gives significance to when a child is born is the name parents give to their newborn. Ranjit and Johanna provided a lot of thought to naming their children. They called their firstborn, Dhruv, a traditional Hindu name meaning pole star, the name given to a young boy according to a beautiful mythical story for his bravery and perseverance. They named their second child, Kabir, after the fifteenth century Indian Sufi poet and saint by name Kabir Das.  Kabir means ‘great, ‘powerful’ and ‘leader’ in Hindi. Kabir Das was a well-regarded person by Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs alike.  It is widely accepted that Kabir was raised in a Muslim household, and became a follower of a Hindu guru without changing his religion of birth. Staying above the communal differences, Kabir Das worked to bring the clashing cultures of Hinduism and Islam. He lived a contemplative life while engaging himself in the mundane world of raising a family and earning a living in weaving. Disdainful of professional pietism, orthodoxies, and social hierarchies of both Hinduism and Islam, Kabir was drawn to the devotional movement called Bhakti, whose singular focus was the love of and union with the one deity. I am glad my second grandson is named after a great saint like Kabir, whose approach to religion and spirituality is an antidote to the fissures that his country is facing. 

 

        In retrospect, the year 2020 was a year of perspectives and revelations.  It taught me not to hold too fast on my own plans and thinking. 2020 surprised us with the gift of Kabir. It made me think afresh on the adage, ‘man proposes, but God disposes.’  I also never imagined that it would take a pandemic to lay bare the fissures and fault lines of our country. I never thought about the fragility of American democracy.  On January 6, when Christians celebrate Epiphany, a day of revelations and manifestations, our country witnessed its over two-hundred-year-old democracy teeter on a precipice, because of our deranged President. Yes, for me, it was a revelation. What is even more devastating is to know how susceptible a political party can be to keep him as their leader and how the American public can allow someone to continue to stay in office. This is all a revelation for me.  As an ordained minister of a Christian denomination, I have a lot of homework to do this year so that I will be able to read the writings on the wall and interpret it for the people whom God has given to my care. I pray that I can be like Kabir Das, who flawlessly integrated contemplation and action.