My Sweet Lord: New Vrindaban, WV

Every time I breach the subject of our religious beliefs – as I did in the post on the Meher Spiritual Center in Myrtle Beach – whether in conversation or in writing, I am always quick to say it is a personal matter. Not anymore. In terms of religious thought, I find the most clarity in the philosophies, teachings, scriptures, and sages of the Hindu faith. I am a Hindu, though some may argue that given that I am not Indian (at least not in this lifetime) that I am a practitioner of Sanatana Dharma, which translates as “the Eternal Law.”

Whatever. Labels are stupid.

In a similar vein as my discovery of Meher Baba by way of Pete Townshend, my first glimpse into Hinduism – albeit a very specific denomination of the faith – came through George Harrison and his involvement with the International Society for Krishna Consciousness, or ISKCON. They are also commonly referred to as the Hare Krishna movement. One Christmas my grandparents gave me a massive coffee-table book called The Beatles: A Celebration by Geoffrey Giuliano. (Giuliano himself has had a long relationship with ISKCON, as well.)

Throughout were full-color photographs of The Beatles, their cohorts, consorts, rare picture sleeves, and all manner of Beatles ephemera. The chapter discussing each Beatle’s solo pursuits included a photo of George, his wife Patti, and two bald men in yellow/orange colored robes. (Back then I only conceived of colors as defined by Crayola – 16 years later, I now know that color to be saffron.)

Swami Prabhupada, Patti Harrison, George Harrison, and Dhananjaya Das, circa 1974.

I remember, even back then, thinking the man on the left – despite being the shortest person in the photo – had quite a unique presence about him. (This is saying something, because back in 1997 there was nothing I wanted more than to be a Beatle.) I also remember his name looking like a smattering of letters that I thought I would never be able to pronounce: His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada.

Swami Prabhupada was the founder of ISKCON, and much like Meher Baba, Swami Vivekananda, and Swami Sivananda, I have found nothing – NOTHING – in the way of a juicy postmortem confessional from disillusioned former students, nothing indicating he had a secret stash of Rolls Royces, no sordid private life, no sharply-worded critiques of other religions made in secret, no secret agenda to establish a one-world religion, and no racist newsletters published under his letterhead. (These are all misdeeds attributed to various 20th Century spiritual leaders…except that last one. That one was Ron Paul.) In short, the man truly was, to use a cliché turn of phrase, the real deal.*

In the latter 20th Century, Swami Prabhupada introduced Hinduism to the Love Generation, arriving in the United States in 1966. His message was simple: Krishna – an avatar of the god Vishnu – is the Supreme Godhead, and the chanting of his name will bring about a legion of good. For strict adherents, there is a code of morals and ethics, but taking up the chanting of the Hare Krishna mantra** was offered as a simple practice for anyone and everyone. The only other prescription Prabhupada had for the general public was to give up eating meat.

Nestled away in the Appalachians, just south of Wheeling, West Virginia (the birthplace of my maternal grandfather, Charles Rowan) is a community of 350 ISKCON devotees called New Vrindaban. (Old Vrindaban is in Uttar Pradesh, India, the boyhood home of Krishna.) The community has an ornate temple, a farm where cows are protected and venerated, a larger-than-life statue of Lord Caitanya (the 16th Century propagator of the Hare Krishna mantra), living quarters for guests, and what was intended to be Prabhupada’s home during his visits to America. Unfortunately, Prabhupada died before the latter’s completion.

Our visit was brief, but most memorable. Visiting the temple in the early evening, a monk named Venkat introduced us to each of the deities. We talked about our familiarity both with Hinduism and my knowledge of ISKCON via George Harrison. Unlike the folks at the Baba center with Pete Townshend, Venkat was very familiar with George’s connection to ISKCON. (In all fairness, Townshend distanced himself from Baba’s organization due to his drug problems in the early 1980’s.) George had been a benefactor for ISKCON in England, producing first a single and then an entire album ofdevotional music, and he remained a lifelong devotee.

During the evening worship service, the chief monk, Parampara Das, tapped us on the shoulder and took us to his office, where we chatted at great length about society, religion, and God. It is too much for me to go into details here – for more, you’ll have to wait until American Weirdness becomes a full-on book – but it was refreshing and a sheer delight to hear from someone with a level of spiritual authority things I have said, thought, and written about these topics. We were offered the warmest of welcomes by the devotees and other visitors alike. (There was a large group of Indians with Ontario license plates visiting that same weekend.)

The following morning began for us at five, with worship beginning before dawn. After worship – which included prayers and obeisance to Krishna, Narasimha (another avatar of Vishnu in the form of a half-man, half-lion), and Prabhupada – Parampara Das gave a humorous but instructional talk on using prayer beads to count the Hare Krishna mantra, which is ideally chanted 108 times in one sitting. (If it sounds nuts, consider that it only takes about 12 to 15 minutes.)

After lunch and midday services, we left for Charleston, the state capital. Our visit was too brief, and yet we both had very transformative experiences at New Vrindaban. We were invigorated, spiritually awakened, and at peace.

* For any wayward Westerners seeking sources of enlightenment from the East, I strongly encourage you to do your homework on the authors! Some of them are legitimate men and women of God, sharing, reiterating, and spreading a strong message for no purpose other than the betterment of the species. Many, however, are hucksters who prey upon the Western exoticizing of all things from the “Mysterious East.” Their messages carry the depth of a Hallmark greeting card, which they peddle at an exorbitant rate, with a personal life that would make Caligula blush. Back in Massachusetts, I picked up a book on meditation by a “Swami” who I later learned was accused of rape by several former students. Since I don’t believe in burning books, at the next possible juncture, I traded it in at a bookstore in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, in exchange for a book of Shakti prayers, hymns, and poems.

** The Hare Krishna mantra is remarkably simple to remember:

“Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna,

Krishna, Krishna, Hare, Hare,

Hare Rama, Hare Rama,

Rama, Rama, Hare, Hare”

Here is the George Harrison-produced recording of the Hare Krishna mantra, as performed by the devotees of the Radha Krishna Temple in England.

The Seeker: The Meher Spiritual Center, North Myrtle Beach, SC

Meher Baba, 1894-1969

“God exists. If you are convinced of God’s existence, then it rests with you to seek Him, to see Him, and to realize Him. Do not search for God outside of you. God can only be found within you, for His only abode is the heart.” – Meher Baba

As a precursor, it deserves mention that religion has always been a very private subject for both of us. We were respectively raised in Protestant and Jewish households, and the precepts, philosophies, and practices never gelled with us, despite having a baptism and a bat mitzvah. For Alexa, she did not like the idea of paying an annual membership for a synagogue. She found it to be a social club born out of materialism and half-hearted practices. As a proud feminist, she also took (and still takes) a lot of issue with the treatment of women in the more conservative sects of Judaism.

For me, I found the Christianity that was taught to me in my youth was served with a side of fire and brimstone. It is worth interjecting that this skewed, fear-oriented view was not from my parents, but by a series of whack-job Sunday school teachers and a few weeks at church camps throughout my childhood. We were taught the art of “apologetics,” the notion of being able to argue in favor of Christianity in what we were told would be a Godless world. And yet, with most of the United States having a church on every corner, with chicken patties being used to let the world know that you’re not a fan of the gays, and the continued existence of political figures whose philosophy of the world was last updated in the Bronze Age, I keep wondering just where in America is there this Godless society?

The last thing I’ll go into (at least for now – you’ll have to wait for the book to get more) is that most – and I say “most” because there are exceptions to this rule – Christian thought teaches that it is creeds, not deeds, that grants one access to the Kingdom of Heaven. All one needs to do is recognize that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah, and that he died for mankind’s sins. With that logic, think of all the vile figures throughout history who could have had a deathbed conversion: Hitler, Stalin, Attila the Hun, Pol Pot, Mr. Hooper from Sesame Street – all of these people, despite living lives driven by hatred, bloodlust, and greed, would be in Heaven.

Now, for people who lived good lives but simply were not followers of Jesus, consider these names: Mahatma Gandhi, Golda Meir, Confucius, Lao Tzu, and the Buddha. By the logic adopted by fundamentalist Christian thought, these people are in Hell. This never sat well with me, and hopefully not for you, either. As a kid, when I asked what would happen to people living in the bush of the Kalahari, I was assured that they would be saved…because “they didn’t learn about Jesus.”

Again, there are many exceptions. My dad has said many times he finds Jesus to be, as he says, “a way, but not the way.” A friend of mine who has extensively studied Orthodox Christianity has said all are saved by God’s grace. However, in my experience, most of the people around me stuck to very strict and conservative views regarding salvation. They were good Christians who went to church every Sunday, but spent the rest of the week on their asses, doing nothing to make their corner of the world a better place, but because of their simple profession of faith, were saved.

I left Christianity in 2006, with a few skeptical “you’ll be back” remarks from people, and I can only hope they have stopped tapping their toes and glancing at their watches, because it’s getting late and there are mosquitoes out. I’m lucky to have parents who are understanding and appreciative of my search for Truth. I cannot imagine what it is like for people who do not have that level of support. In the time since then, Alexa and I have both investigated and read about other religions and belief systems, from the different sects of Judaism to the Baha’i Faith to Sikhism, and it is with the umbrella of Hindu thought (and it is a big umbrella) that we have both found a philosophical view of the world that we both like.

My interest in Meher Baba, like I am sure is the case for at least a small segment of people, came by way of Pete Townshend. In the late 1960’s, Townshend developed a deeply spiritual side, abandoning the psychedelic temptations of the period and injecting Baba’s philosophies into his songwriting. Baba’s influence helped inspire Tommy, where the deaf, mute, and blind title character represents mankind: blind and deaf towards God-consciousness, and consequently unable to express themselves. Upon the shattering of a mirror, itself an image of vanity and egoism, Tommy becomes aware. Naturally, like many messianic figures of the past, Tommy ends up rejected and forsaken by his own followers.

For the indirect influence on Tommy, Baba is credited in the album’s sleeve as “Avatar.” I have no doubt that this small nod led more inquisitive minds in 1969 to discover more about this fellow with a strange name, a name that two years later would partially comprise the title of “Baba O’Riley.” (The latter half is a wink to Terry Riley, whose piece A Rainbow In Curved Air inspired the synthesized ostinatos that make up the song’s intro.)

It certainly brought me to him, and, if you’ll beg our indulgence (as individuals who, until now, have kept discussions of religion limited to interested and/or like-minded people), we loved what we found, and find his ideas interesting enough to share with our audience.

Baba, with the symbols of (clockwise, from the top) Zoroastrianism, Islam, Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism surrounding him.

Meher Baba, born Merwan Sheriar Irani in 1894, grew up in a Zoroastrian family, attended a Christian school, and studied under both Sufi and Hindu mystics. This religious training from a number of different backgrounds inspired Baba’s divine message. His early followers called him Meher Baba, which means “compassionate father.” At a time where the caste system was still a powerful force in Indian society, Baba opened a school that welcomed people of all backgrounds. His championing of equality among caste, religion, race, and even sexuality in 1920’s India was remarkably progressive. Baba eventually declared himself to be the Avatar – or earthly manifestation of God – of the modern era, a lineage that included Zoroaster, Moses, Jesus, Krishna, Rama, Mohammed, and the Buddha.

It cannot be stressed enough – he even says it twice in his Universal Message – that Baba did not declare the foundation of a new religion. In fact, the direct quote follows:

“I have come not to teach but to awaken. Understand, therefore, that I lay down no precepts.”

Baba taught a philosophy of love, stating many times throughout his speeches, screeds, and lessons that love is the key to finding God. Loving your enemy is one of Jesus’ most powerful (and yet oft-overlooked) teachings, while the concept of recognizing the presence of God in everyone is regarded as one of the keys to breaking the cycle of rebirth in Hinduism, Jainism, and Sikhism. Looking at your worst enemy – be it a personal enemy, a political figure, or even a coke-addled celebrity making the headlines yet again – and acknowledging that there still exists in them, however much they cloak it, the same divine presence that dwells within you and your loved ones, is a Sisyphean task. However, that is the challenge: love everyone, with no exceptions.

Baba also gave us this proverb, not Bobby McFerrin.

Baba proposed this philosophy as one that is compatible with all systems of thought, with his own ideas merely highlighting the precepts of other religions. Because of his philosophy being easily adaptable for different religions, I find him very similar to the Buddha. Although the Buddha’s philosophy has since had an “ism” affixed to it, I still have yet to encounter a Buddhist who does not quickly state that their belief is not a religion, but a philosophy, one that can exist with or without the acknowledgment of a god-figure.

In his travels, Baba wished to establish a base of operations in the West. He had several requirements for an ideal spiritual center: a pleasant year-round climate, near both fresh and salty waters (there is a gorgeous lake on the premises), virgin soil, sustainable land, and that the land should be given from the heart. After a few efforts to obtain land in California, Baba’s American devotees were able to secure a patch of land in Myrtle Beach.

In the time since the founding of the Meher Spiritual Center in 1952, Myrtle Beach has become a cesspool. It is a melded shit-pot of food, family-friendly entertainment with the occasional strip club, and goods that solely exist to say that not only did you go to Myrtle Beach, you have a t-shirt, golf visor, pair of flip-flops, and thong underwear to prove it! One boutique we stumbled upon at Barefoot Landing that specialized in Eastern religious items sold – don’t laugh – statues of Ganesh and Buddha with MYRTLE BEACH, SC emblazoned across the base. (They also sold bongs, too, so take from that what you will.)

The state of Myrtle Beach, as a sort of Redneck Riviera, only serves to make the continued existence of the Baba Center a powerful testament to both his message and his legacy. Nestled between a Wal-Mart and a housing development, just down the road from a resort that boasts being a “plantation” (a word that conjures up a very different image for us Yanks), and across the street from a massive shopping mall with a Hooters in the parking lot, the Baba Center is a 500-acre haven away from the sensory overload and neon decadence that litters Myrtle Beach’s main drag.

First-time visitors receive a guided tour. Our group was all people within our age bracket, mostly college students, and our tour guide Ambika had been a devotee of Baba since 1989 – as long as Alexa has been alive. Noting my necklace, which features a picture of Shiva in meditation, the three of us talked about Hinduism for a few minutes near the lake. Ambika was her adopted name, one of the many names attributed to Parvati, Shiva’s consort. Ambika means “dear mother,” a fitting name for our guide.

We had an interesting moment when Ambika introduced us to the groundskeeper. At one point, when Ambika mentioned again that Baba’s philosophy could work for anyone of any faith, the groundskeeper (unfortunately, his name eluded us at the time of this writing) added, “Or no faith at all,” adding that what makes Baba so great is his teachings in and of themselves do not make up a religion. Ambika then said, “At least we hope it stays that way.”

Most followers of a philosophical or religious leader seek to elevate that individual to religious figurehead status as soon as they have passed away. This is most likely what happened to Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, a reformer of the Hindu faith whose philosophy spawned an “ism,” one frequently regarded as an independent religion rather than an intricate web of philosophies and guides for good living. It was refreshing to see that despite Baba’s charisma, even 44 years after his passing, the people most dedicated to preserving his legacy do not want to see his teaching become an “ism.”

At the Center’s library, we thumbed through a massive book of photographs of Baba throughout his life. We saw a very kind and loving man, warmly embracing and feeding lepers, smiling with groups of followers, and playing with animals, including his dog Cracker, baby lambs, and a capuchin monkey.

Another striking feature about Baba, something the librarian pointed out as well, was his seemingly shifting affect. En route to France, the mustachioed Baba, wearing a beret, looked like a Frenchman. In a photo taken while fasting in India, Baba looked like an emaciated holy man. Wearing an all-white suit among the likes of Tallulah Bankhead in Hollywood, with his mane of long hair, Baba looked like a handsome film star. These photographs served as proof of sorts of his universal appeal, in that he could almost miraculously match with his surroundings.

Baba in Hollywood in 1932, with Tallulah Bankhead.

As Ambika parted ways with us with a round of hugs, Alexa bid her a “Jai Baba,” the greeting shared among Baba’s devotees, while she told me, “Say hello to Shiva for me.” Walking to the barn where Baba gave many of his lectures, Alexa and I both felt a presence, something not entirely tangible, but something that followed us out to the beach, back through the center, and even stuck with us as we pulled out onto North Kings Highway and once more gazed upon the Hooters.

Baba in the 1920's.

“I have come to sow the seed of love in your hearts, so that, in spite of all superficial diversity, which your life in illusion must experience and endure, the feeling of Oneness through love is brought about amongst all nations, creeds, sects, and castes of the world.” – Meher Baba

The Meher Spiritual Center online.

Sheriar Books, just up Kings Highway from the Center.

Meher Baba's Wikipedia page.

Meher Baba's Discourses.

My review of Pete Townshend's Baba-centric solo album, Who Came First, at Woman Around Town.