Modern rite of passage

OUR zeal to protect religious and other freedoms is selective. We demand freedom of religious expression for ourselves and our group but lose interest in the subject when outsiders make the same demand. Like that last memorandum that makes redundant earlier memos, the truths of others are overridden by our truth. So much for a tired old saw, hardly worth repeating.

Yet it is in the context of confrontation with other traditions that migrating religious groups, from the Aryan and Jew to Christian and Muslim, have articulated their "this-worldly" message. "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church," wrote Tertullian, the Second Century Church of England North African Christian theologian. In earthly exile, in their wanderings far from sacred spawning grounds, the great world religious traditions have both individualised and universalised their messages. In migration from sacred home turf they have found liberation. Minority status is seminal growth time. Pilgrimage (the return trip) is a quest for spiritual homing through personal re-enactment of sacred homelessness.

A part of the world's fascination for India, ancient and modern, is that we think we see there this grand primordial theological- historical-cultural-political epic drama, mahakavya, playing out daily in the lives of ordinary people, communities, arts, cuisine and social institutions. Judaism, Zoroastrianism, Christianity, Islam, even Buddhism and other religious traditions have thrived, preserving some of their oldest rites and most cherished customs, in this rich, vast, alluvial, generally hospitable intellectual environment. Perhaps the surest sign of life is in the capacity to regenerate time-honoured values in new geography.

Look at recent developments in the Hindu tradition on American soil. Perhaps the most important story is not in the numbers of mandirs springing up all over urban America or the growing number of Hindu Student Associations on university campuses, or the growing political and economic clout Indian-Americans wield but in something more mundane, in the quiet, private family rituals of a growing number of observant Hindu households. In fast-paced, middle-class America one way to slow down is to attend to the ancient household rituals like those of the dashakarma, the ten Vedic samskaras, "sacraments," consecrating each stage in the human life-cycle from conception to death. In the American environment the ten have generally been reduced to five - annaprasan, first rice (solids) feeding, upanayan, sacred thread ceremony, bibaha, marriage, vastupuja, house consecration, and shraddha, funeral. One samskara, upanayan, initiation into brahmacharya, the student years, has special meaning for many Indian-Americans of all generations, families many of which have come to America to continue education.

Kanai Mukherji, himself a purohit, received his Ph.D. in the United States and now is a retired university chemistry professor. So it was appropriate that before his son, Aseet, went to MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) several years ago, the upanayan ceremony was performed. This ritual both connected his American-grown family with age-old sacred traditions and solemnised Aseet's own and the family commitment to learning as he was about to leave home for the university. The annual fall ritual of campus visits, college applications then waiting, hoping for that March letter of acceptance is often a stressful rite of passage for many American young people as well as their parents who are left to face the "empty nest." In consecrating this threshold experience the upanayan ceremony is a way some Indian-American families deal with this period.

"The samskaras are as relevant today in America as they have been for centuries in India," Kanai told me over lunch recently. "We must teach our children, the first generation born in America, their true meaning. We do this by observing them here in a way that has meaning for us." Noting that Raja Rammohan Ray cited many examples from Hindu sacred literature of women, men and children from all segments of society who were distinguished by Vedic learning, I asked Kanai if he would perform upanayan for young women and other non-Brahman males. His response was that so far he had only been asked to perform it for Brahmans but he was open in principle to performing it for others here in America.

As a practising pujari, Kanai draws upon family Shakta temple Rarhi Kulin Brahman traditions dating back to the 12th Century when Balal Sen brought six families of priests to Bengal from Kanauj.

But the new circumstances of urban America required substantial reconsideration of the ritual. First, Indian-American families come from all over India and from many distinctive religious communities.

Second, the constraints of typical American suburban life including commuting relatively long distances to work, private schools, afternoon sports-recreation, and temple while often juggling two-parent work schedules require careful time management.

Third, first generation American-born children have grown up outside the Hindu world in a culture which does not encourage interest in "old fashion" anything.

Referring also to Dayanand Saraswati's Samskara Vidhi and Surendramohan Bhattacharyya's Purohit Darpan and drawing upon many regional precedents, Kanai has recreated a modern model upanayan ceremony which he believes preserves the spirit of the Grihya Sutras' injunctions and those of other shastras, and can be conveniently observed within three hours to fit into busy, professional, commuting suburban family lives.

At the age of 18 when his sacred thread ceremony was performed, Aseet was beyond the recommended age limit set by the Ashvalayana Grihyasutra but still within range being observed before the time of marriage. While Aseet's head was not shaved at the investiture of the sacred thread, he took the ritual bath and put on the saffron cloth.

The three-hour long ceremony performed under a shamiana in the backyard of the family home was divided into three parts. First there was the preparation consisting of worship of the ancestors, cardinal points, lighting of the fire and prayer to Agni concluding with offerings of ghee to the deities and planets. Then the sacred thread initiation ceremony itself started with the preparation of Aseet and a fellow student with the ritual bath and donning of the saffron. After their presentation to the teacher (Aseet's great uncle Brajamadhab Bhattacharyya, the guru surrogate) by their fathers, they recited the Gayatri and the Sandhya and other prayers, vowed chastity and poverty. They then begged for food, symbolic of the vow of mendicancy, and offered rice to the fire. After an invocation to Saraswati, goddess of learning, to grant them intelligence and wisdom the vedarambha (initiation into Vedic study) segment began. This consisted of readings from the Rig Veda for about an hour. Traditionally Vedic study was the sole curriculum lasting eight years for Brahmans.

The investiture of the sacred thread, the initiation part, concluded with the teacher presenting both students to their mothers and receiving his symbolic dakshina, tuition, a real bargain considering what MIT costs today. The last part was the samavartana, homecoming. In America this has become a family celebration, often a lavish party to which friends and neighbours are invited. After the final ceremonial bath, confirmed snatakas (those who have taken the ritual bath), purifying them for re- entry into the secular world, Aseet and his fellow student were presented to their families and friends as guests of honour.

Kanai has presided over this form of upanayan ceremony many times since his son's initiation. Most traditions have cultural baggage that do not always travel well, Kanai explained.

The great world religions are rooted in time and specific space. We must know what is important and unchanging and have the wisdom and courage to cautiously prune away what is not essential. The Hindu tradition has always been adaptable. In America we are free to practice our religion. We can both explore new expressions of our Hindu identity and be Americans too. We have the best of both worlds.

BRUCE C. ROBERTSON

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