I wonder sometimes if we ever grow up.
It was a day some 30 years ago. I remember it as if it was yesterday; a not unexpected confrontation with my daughter when she was about six years old. She wanted to watch the tube but it was already 10:30 at night, way past her bedtime. She was adamant and my exhortations were not getting anywhere. In irritation she blurted out, "Why can't I do my own thing," and then she added, "Power to the little people," holding her little fist in the air and marching off to her room.
What she was looking from me was not a sermon on why it was time to brush her teeth and go to bed but support and validation for her whims of the moment.
Nothing exceptional in this; this is universal and transcends geography, race, culture, religion or gender - even age.
Go to any teenager's life and such angst is universal. If teenagers don't show such idiosyncratic actions I would wonder what planet are they from, what are they on or perhaps if they are not well?
But when I look at how we translate or live our religious dicta and teachings I wonder if we have grown up at all beyond a teeny-bopper's existence.
For once I am not picking on Sikhs practices alone. I mean it when I say that my comments apply equally well to every other faith tradition - be it Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Sikh or any of the variety of human belief systems. The fault, of course, lies neither with the stars nor with the teaching; it is how we seem to be hard-wired. Yet, my comments will be derived largely from Sikh practice and teachings, because that is my turf.
When we go to a gurduara, or for that matter, a church, synagogue, temple or mosque, we have an overriding want. Here I am distinguishing our needs from our wants.
Much as we look for approval, validation and unconditional love from parents and even teachers, this is exactly what we want from God; no more, no less. The essence is as of a teeny-bopper, "Why can't I have my own way or do my own thing?"
Approval is the key "want" here not a lesson, a way or logic for improvement. Validation for what we are and the way we are - good, bad or indifferent - not a sermon is the key issue here.
After all, as modern pop psychology and talking heads on the tube tell us every day we are pretty good persons. The pulpit repeats endlessly "God loves us." So what we expect is that the sermon at the gurduara should reinforce that idea and not point to our evil ways or preach to me what we need to do to walk the path of the Guru.
We have heard movers and shakers of the Sikh community instruct the local gurduara officiant (granthi) not to emphasize the sacrifices of Bhai Taru Singh and Bhai Mani Singh or dwell too long on the torture of Guru Arjan because we do not wish to emphasize the message of violence and suffering.
I suppose by this twisted logic the history of Vaisakhi 1699 is no longer appropriate for recounting in a gurduara for it speaks of a call for a head and the how five Sikhs did exactly that - offer their heads to the Guru. Blood dripping swords is not the imagery that we need to expose visitors or children to.
These tales are just too full of blood and gore that are not suitable for young minds and certainly not right for the modern world. Such stories will only repel the modern minds.
(I have often heard similar logic on why the 1984 attack on the Harmandar (Golden Temple) should find no place in gurduaras as art, speech, discussion, or any such mention.)
Gurduaras are for peace, meditation and spirituality, not blood curdling history, they tell us.
I have heard of Granthis at their job interview being told by the Gurduara Management Committees that they should not preach or speak about the requirement of Kes, the long unshorn hair, as markers of Sikhi because in this modern society such matters have no relevance. These are unappreciated, unnecessary and awkward lessons. Too many in the congregation no longer honor these teachings of Sikhi and we don't want to turn them away or divide the community in any way.
And, of course, many of the movers and shakers of the community are dismissive of such "old fashioned and out of date" teachings.
It is then not much of a leap of the mind to conclude that Guru Gobind Singh turned the peaceful message of Guru Nanak on its head and took Sikhi in a radically different direction from the peaceful (pacifist?) message of Guru Nanak. Furthermore, sometimes I have heard the formulation from Sikhs that we are Sikhs of Guru Nanak, not of Guru Gobind Singh, or even that we are Sikhs of the first five Gurus - Guru Nanak to Guru Arjan, not the latter five.
Are we then trying to make our gurduara something like a church that bans all talk of the crucifixion of Jesus? Is our long and glorious history of valor, sacrifice and martyrdom too gory and uncomfortable to live with?
What we are effectively saying is "I am a good person; society and pop psych tell me so. My religion should also continue to reinforce that message so that I can deal with the slings and arrows of the world.
Don't undermine my sense of self by telling me what more I need to do to become a better Sikh. The stamp of acceptance is what we want from the from the Guru.
If the Guru loved me then that's what he'd give me. God's and Gurus' love is unconditional, isn't it?
To God and Guru I say this: I am a good person. Why can't I be what I am? What I want and need is the stamp of approval - like the Goof Housekeeping seal of approval from my community; nothing more, nothing less.
To God I say: This is not pouty pettiness. I am good so I want rewards and I deserve them. I am entitled to them. And don't tell me this is what the world labels a misplaced sense of entitlement or emotional blackmail. Make mine the winning lottery ticket; you do it every day for countless others who are less deserving. Do this for me and I promise I will recite (or pay for) 101 Sukhmani Sahibs or other prayers of thanksgiving. (How many depends on how much is the ticket worth.)
I am open to negotiation if you think my part should be more or less than what I am offering - I am a reasonable person as all my friends will tell you.
Teach me not; I don't need a lesson; reinforce what I do and bless me. I ask for blessings not learning. Haven't the time for that.
Don't quote at me lines from gurbani that speak of "Karam dharm pakhand jo deesay….." I know there are endless citations that you can throw at me that will pick on my life, but that's not what I want.
As the world tells me I am a good person, so why ain't I entitled to the rewards of a good life? I deserve them and I am entitled to them.
So, God and Guru please look at my lottery ticket and do what is your nature duty to do. Be generous. When I win I promise you your due; I will also contract with the gurduara and pay for 101 readings of the Sukhmani Sahib and an Akhand Paath or two. I don't promise to read myself because my social life, as you know, is just too chaotic and my working life too demanding and busy. I am young; there are a zillion other things I've got to do and so little time to do them.
Ask me not to learn more new things for I don't need a lesson; I haven't the time for it. Just reinforce what I do and bless me. I ask for blessings not learning or more things that pile on my plate to do or think about.
All I ask is this: Whatever I do is my shardhaa and devotion; so what I believe is sacred you can't touch, change or shake it. That's disrespect to my belief and to my person.
(God, I share a bon mot with you. The words Shardhaa and Sharaadh arise from the same letters of the alphabet and yet they are so far apart in meaning. The former speaks of personal faith and devotion, the latter of a totally meaningless ritual wherein Hindus present Brahmins with food, cash and exorbitant gifts in the vain hope that they will reach their own dead ancestors.
God, don't make Sikhi too preachy. I want it peachy not preachy. My life is good; you want me to change it? Why?
I don't want to spend time listening to teachers who harangue and teach. I need teachers who love my psychic insecurities, whatever they may be? Look at these two types of teachers. Who do you think is the more popular or more rewarded?
What can I say to all this?
The saving grace is that most teeny boppers grow up sooner than one hopes or expects; but some never do.
I reread what I penned today and thought: It is one thing to fall short of the path - we all do. It's quite another to fail to see that there is a path.
June 20, 2012