Thursday, July 31, 2008

Some Thoughts on Christianity in N. India

It seems as though ecumenism in India (Northern India in particular) is rooted in a necessity, more than simply a theological ideal. I have already discussed in various posts the extreme religiosity that permeates the Indian culture, and in a country where Christianity is such an extreme religious minority, those who profess a faith based in the Gospel of Jesus Christ must come together rather than remain disconnected due to denominational boundaries. I do not intend to make the claim that a theology of Christian unity does not play a significant role in the identity of Indian Christians, however. The ecumenical ideal is as vibrant as the women's sarees here, and many of the leaders in the North Indian unity movement were Indians, rather than their Western counterparts.

T.K. Thomas spent much of his career working in the Geneva offices of the World Council of Churches and was considered one of the finest advocates of the world Christian unity movement. His numerous writings championed the most cutting edge ideas of ecumenical theology (particularly in India). "The Christian ideal, then, has nothing exclusive about it," Thomas writes. "It invites people of all religious persuasions and people of no religious persuasion to work together for human development", largely because Christianity recognizes its Christ as the fullest embodiment of authentic humanity. Still, according to Thomas, such emptying and blurring of any religious identity is a necessity of the Christian faith. "We cannot follow the Christ who emptied himself without emptying ourselves of all things -- including our identities."

Furthermore, Thomas was a leading name in cause of inclusive language and women's rights in the Indian Church. In a country of extreme class-ism, caste-ism, and sexism, he argued that it was simply inappropriate to discriminate against 'the least of these' (in this case, women) in words and deeds if we are to hold Jesus's Gospel message true. God is ever present and aware of all that occurs. God is everywhere and all things. Thus, "everything must of course include woman, but she is not seen, she is, for the most part, excluded." As a result, women (who make up the majority of practicing Christians in India) are followers of the male monopolized God. In the current Indian culture, such claims are quite revolutionary, but so is our Christian faith, he argued. Christ came to give good news to the oppressed, thus requiring the Church, both male and female, to become more "daringly eclectic" with our language for God.

Still, nothing about such claims are simple in a society where one's location in the cultural hierarchy makes all the difference. Many of the Hindus that I have met talk to me about their appreciation for the man Jesus of Nazareth. They recognize the value in his teachings of love and care for others, and they even speak of him as a respected Guru. Christians are esteemed for their work with the poor and the excellent private education that they provide India. Still, Christianity has a message that is not particularly appealing to those in the higher echelons of Indian society, as it advocates for a breaking down of exclusionary social and political structures. Hinduism often welcomes elitism (though I do not pretend to be naive of the same potential in prosperity gospel or predestination theologies within Christianity), thus the majority of Christian converts from Hinduism are those in the lower castes. And so we return to the cultural necessity of uniting in a common cause, or faith. Dhanji Bhai Nauroji said in 1881: "[Indian Christians] belong, it is true, to various denominations, but seldom if ever do they make anything of denominational differences. The fact is, they do not know and are not eager to know, what these difference exactly are. They are Christians, and they glory in that name."

Yet, the colonized Indian Christians still remained dependent on their missionaries and thus held tightly to the ties of their mission churches. As a result, the conversations surrounding church union in North India brought with it unique tensions concerning dual identities: the traditions of their Western evangelists and the realities of their indigenous faith. They required approval from the Western powers, since the movement was one for unity (rather than further separation in the name of denominational preferences) and often struggled to find an acceptable road map for union in the eyes of their Western founding churches.

Eventually there was success after four official drafts of a unity plan. The powers that be in the West were satisfied with the proposal, and in 1970, the Church of North India was inaugurated. Some have said that the greatest and last significant success of CNI was the day it unified. They argue that few know of the continued work of the Church of North India and that (particularly here in Kolkata) the Catholic and Assemblies of God presence is the Christianity of which most Indians are aware. Perhaps that is largely caused by the tensions that have always existed in CNI between its historical ties with the colonizing religion of the West and its desire to be an indigenous Indian Church. Both the Roman Catholics and AGs are still controlled by their Western heads and can be more publicly present due to their outsider status. It is much more difficult for an Indian church to decipher its mixed identity in the public square. It again becomes the struggle that Mainline Protestantism in America grapples with : how do we both profess loudly our unique Christian faith and still be active and respected participants in a pluralistic society that does not necessarily share our faith commitments? How do we be revolutionary prophets for the peace and justice of Jesus Christ without disrespecting those who believe differently (and thus negating our own purpose of sharing the Good News)?

I think the beginning of the answer must be unity. Holding onto fights over history and polity, of schisms and excommunications does not seem appropriate any longer (I am not certain, personally, that it ever was, but that's a conversation for another day). CNI is on the right path, they are Christians in Northern India first and products of certain mission fields second. The next stage of their work will be to discern what their future holds as a faith communion. It has been nearly 40 years since the 40-year unity conversation culminated in the inauguration of the Church of North India. If the seminarians I have met at Bishop's College are any indication of the forthcoming church (and I like to think that seminarians always are!), I am very excited to see what CNI has in store for Northern India.

Two Weeks Left... Sad Face!

Yesterday was my two week marker for leaving Kolkata. I have ridiculously mixed emotions about it. Even now, as I write the words 'leaving Kolkata', I am getting choked up at the thought, while simultaneously longing to be on a plane over the Atlantic towards home. My friend Danny Mac was absolutely correct when he told me during our tea date in Delhi "India will challenge you and change you, it always does, but it will never be in the ways that you expected." India has its own plans, that is certainly true.

In some ways, I expected to be overcome by the extremeness of this country. It is so very different from any place I have been before (ah, Cynthia Lindner's point from the beginning of this whole grant process). The poverty is overwhelming; the language(s) is so insanely complicated for me (due to how very different it is from any of those I have studied); the culture treats women in a bizarrely privileged and simultaneously repressed fashion; I, as a Westerner, am both a welcomed profit margin and a mistrusted imperial representative.

Still, the stares don't bother me anymore; I happily wear my jeans on the street and a salwar kameez to church; I give directions to the cabbies (in Bengali!) and fight for the metered rate when they try to double the fare; I wash my clothes in a bucket, then use it for my bath; I am singing in a Hindi ensemble. I love Kolkata and feel in many ways like it has become another home to me. Perhaps my American homestead-trio (Bville, where I grew up; Indy, where my parents own a house; and Chicago, where I live now) has made "home" a less concrete concept. Still, I feel like the woman that I will be for the rest of my life will be intensely linked with my time in this place. I feel like I need to come home (to the States) in order to even begin to process this summer. In many ways, my scholarly research on CNI has been simple: library books and articles are familiar... it has been reading, interviewing, and attending worship services. And while very little about the Church is easy (particularly one based in Christian unity with diversity as a founding principle, hear that my Disciples family?), everything about being a 24-year old woman traveling alone in India is VERY difficult.

It seems fitting that I would be in India for the Monsoon season; I often feel like there is an internal monsoon brewing as well. On any given day, it is sunny and bright, humid and cloudy, raining and cool. 30 seconds are enough to turn the previous sunshine into a desperate downpour. A monsoon in the city means flooding of ancient and unequipped sewage infrastructure, more common power-outages, the redistribution of waste by newly formed street-side streams, not to mention the increased hardships a season of rain and flooding has on the urban street dwelling community. Yet, the monsoon brings with it the promise of water for a year of crop production (which means food!) and a cleansing of debris left from the previous months. When the first bursts of the monsoon occur all buildings suddenly empty as everyone gathers in the streets to celebrate the coming of the rains. Children splash in the puddles on their way to school, women in vibrantly colored sarees of cotton and even silk dance in the downpour, and men laughingly hug one another as their suits become drenched by the waters falling from the sky. The monsoon means that life will continue; and despite how frightening that may be, everyone in India knows what a blessing it is to live.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Safe

First, let me reassure everyone who may have heard the news of terrorists threats aimed at Kolkata. I am 100% safe at this moment in time. I was just paying the taxi who had brought Cecile, Carole and me to Jadavpur (the Kolkata suburb where Youssef has an apartment) when my phone began to ring. Dr. Caleb was calling to ask me to come back to Bishop's College immediately, as there had been a series of emails sent indicating that a terrorist organization would be targeting popular Kolkata locations in a series of bomb attacks. Unfortunately by the time he had explained the situation, our cab had left and there was not another taxi to be found. He said that it would be okay for me to stay at Jadavpur for the night as long as we avoided public places. To be honest, I felt more comfortable sequestered away in their suburban flat than in a taxi that would necessarily be crossing major overpasses on the return trip to the city proper. I explained the situation to my four French friends (plus the Moroccan Youssef), and I was a little shocked that they were not particularly concerned. Sunil was certain that these threats were to be taken seriously, but no one in the apartment, besides Youssef and myself, seemed at the least bit worried. Then I realized these friends are residents of the country that openly objected to the American 'War on Terror'. They have not had an open attack on their national soil; it was not the Eiffel Tour seen crumbling to the ground on September 11th. I do not say this as a critique, but rather as an observation. It makes sense that the American would be freaked out, while the French in the flat would be discussing whether to use butter or oil to fry the chicken samosas.

Cecile noticed that I was uneasy, and I explained that Americans are particularly jumpy these days when the word 'terrorism' comes up. I also told them about being in elementary school when my home state was attacked by one of our own (the 1995 Murrah Building bombing in Oklahoma City). This stuff encourages particular paranoia as far as my own memories are involved, so I was going to be a bit edgy for the evening.

By 11:30 pm, all was still well in Kolkata, so we decided to head back to the city. I arrived at Bishop's College safe and sound (the police force was increased in number and in firearms, so the city is clearly on alert), and I will stay in less public locations until we know that the risks have passed. Just to give you a sense of the time difference, India is 9.5 hours ahead of EST in the US. So, when the time punch at the bottom of my post says 4:30 am, it is actually 2 pm in Kolkata. I am safe, so no need to worry about me. Do keep the city of Kolkata, the state of India, and all who reside here (both those targeted by terrorists and those who feel that terrorism is appropriate) in your thoughts and prayers. 

What's In a Name?

My name in India is essentially 'Bettany' or 'Bet'. No one can come close to pronouncing it with the 'th'. Even Miriam, my Irish friend could only call me 'Betny' (something I became accustomed to while living in Galway), though she could at least understand what I was saying when I told her my name (Just FYI, there is an INSANELY huge worm crawling across my floor right now, and I'm not the least freaked out!). Imagine my utter glee when I met Kelli from Ohio tonight. Not only did she have a beautiful midwestern accent, but my name made perfect sense to her. The 'th' sound was music to my ears!

Wait for It...!!!!!

Anne, one of my French friends, brought home a DVD from the Bastille Day celebration we attended two weeks ago (I can't believe that it has only been two weeks -- especially since I was bed-ridden for five of those days -- but the time passes differently here). The Indian version of 'Entertainment Tonight' (or ET) television was at the party, since it was one of the major social events in the Kolkata year. We all laughed as they talked about 'all the celebrities and famous people of Kolkata' in attendance at the party... and then... wait for it... the video cut to a shot of MOI!!!!! There I was, chatting with someone I had met that night. There had been a camera man around me for several minutes at the party, but there were actually two shots of me, one of Anne's back, and a full face shot of Cecile! My friend Santanu was interviewed (since he's a famous Bengali photographer, something I didn't know until seeing the video), and they kept talking about what a "totally happening event" it was on the Kolkata scene. Talk about a total hoot! Cecile talks about life in Kolkata as a 'very strange fairytale'. This considering, I think she may well be right.

Can't Get Away From It

So, I am singing in the choir at Bishop's College. I know, I know, big surprise that I would discover a way to sing, but its still fantastic to have music in my life here. We have a performance on Sunday at St. James Church (CNI, formerly Anglican) and I am very excited. Both songs are in English (one is 'Let Us Break Bread Together', one of my personal favorites), but they all have a very unique southasian sound. At first, it was difficult to remember the Indian pronunciation of words, yet those eventually stuck (though I still want to say the 'th' sound, rather than a simple 't'). Also, I am singing contralto (most of the 10 women are sopranos) and have to sing with a very nasally quality. Still, despite having to relearn technique, I am loving it. Today at lunch, one of the 3rd years asked if I would sing with the Hindi group as long as they were able to write out the lyrics in 'English letters'. I forget that everyone here considers the Western alphabet 'English'. Yet, it makes sense considering British colonization. I have been thinking about trying to learn Hindi or Bengali when I return to UC in the fall. It will be ridiculously difficult, but worth it, since I absolutely plan to come back. Have I mentioned that I LOVE IT HERE!?!?! I hope that Maggie's ordination as one of the first CNI female priests in Kolkata will give me an excuse to return. Maybe I'll even sing in the choir at her ordination service!

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Thoughts on India

I burst into tears yesterday when I realized that I how soon I am leaving... again (you'd think that I would have gotten used to it by now... but no!) I have taken to reading travel journals of Westerners' journeys throughout India and was in the middle of one woman's account of finally boarding a plane home to Sydney after two years here. At first I thought, "I want to go home!" and then I realized, "Ten weeks is not possibly enough!" At that moment I found myself desperately homesick, for both America and for this place that I have grown to love as a second home.


A few nights before I left, Mom and I had dinner with a couple who have spent a number of holidays traveling throughout India. I was in solid freak-out mode, but the Grant's stories calmed my immediate nerves and made me more excited about my trip than afraid. Mrs. Grant told me about witnessing Mr. Grant after he returned from his first trip to India. 'He simply stayed in bed for hours, then would suddenly bolt up and begin speaking rapidly about his trip. I had never seen him in such a state.' Eventually she joined him on a trip to India and began to understand.


India is a land of extremes, particularly when it comes to love. Bollywood movies portray ridiculous heroes who pine for the beautiful heroine of their desires; music mournfully longs for passionate affairs; restaurants are lit by candles and dim torches to encourage romantic rendezvous... all of this in a culture of carefully negotiated arranged marriages. Perhaps it is because reality so rarely allows for such fantasies to consume life and as a result India demands to dream. If one cannot spend eternity with a soul mate, then you spend this incarnation in love with India. I know I am.