Saccidananda Ashram, Shantivanam

After a van ride and a lunch in the city of Tiruchirapalli, or “Trichy” for short, on Monday afternoon we arrived at our next destination nearby, a Christian ashram. “Saccidananda” is a Hindu name for the Godhead that Christians have adopted to refer to the Trinity. “Shantivanam” means “peaceful forest.” The road here from Trichy is extremely bad, some places only a dirt path, so that the ashram and the village across the road are rather unspoiled. But a new access road is being built, for better and/or worse. The site was first envisioned by two French priests who came here in 1950. But it became an ashram through the spiritual leadership of an English Benedictine priest named Father Bede Griffiths, who came in 1968 and stayed till he died in 1993. We watched a film about his life last night; I think it is also on the ashram’s website. It’s worth it for the scenery alone, or for the white-bearded Indian-garbed Englishman.

Having a computer with email here is new and otherwise internet is non-existent, so I am saving several entries till the next opportunity. In the meantime, “Shantivanam” lives up to its name. Shaded by many coconut palms, banana plants, tamarinds, and other trees, edged by a wide and gently flowing river, filled with cows and goats (and spiders, bees, snakes, lizards, and most of all tropical birds who make sounds we have never heard before), this place is as rural and quiet as the last one was urban.

The idea was to adapt Christianity to Hindu spiritual practices, so readings and chants from Hindu scripture, and Hindu rites such as puja, putting various powders on the forehead, are part of the worship, along with the Bible and Christian rituals. Eucharist is celebrated by a priest seated behind a little stand in the shape of an upside down lotus blossom with a thali on top, and the host is chapati.
The chapel is absolutely gorgeous and serene, eight-sided temple style, pink with beautiful white woodwork soaring to a central peak. Six large round windows open to the outside world, and beautiful grillwork shows Christ as a Hindu guru, his pierced hands held in traditional Hindu postures of welcome and peace. At the front behind the altar is a sort of holy of holies. It is dark because God dwells in mystery, in the “cave of the heart.” Outside, statues of men and women meditating, musical instruments at their backs, sit at each corner. Worship is three times a day before the meals, and meditation is at sunrise and sunset.

We each have a small, spare room, and we share a couple of very basic bathrooms. I have a bed with mosquito netting, a table and plastic chair, some hooks, some shelves, a ceiling fan, and a window looking into the trees.

It is easy to be sleepy here—and not just because the caffeine appears to be non-existent. Still, yesterday the schedule was rather busy. Up at 5:30 for meditation, 6:30 eucharist, 7:30 breakfast. Then half of us peeled and chopped vegetables for about an hour and a half, mostly strange vegetables new to us. Then there was morning “coffee” (more sugar and milk than caffeine, but hey, the sign says no drugs or drinking). Then a tour (where we learned that black pepper grows on a vine up the trees—the little green berries in the picture are peppercorns), followed by a lecture by one of the priests about the theology of God in Christianity and Hinduism (mostly reminding me of patristic discussions about the nature of the Godhead and humanity’s theoretical relationship to it, including the two natures of Christ), followed by lunch.

In the afternoon a few of us went to the river. I didn’t intend to swim but the water was too inviting. We waded across a small stream, then climbed a small sand dune, then descended into the clear, cool water, under which it was all sand. It was dotted with islands filled with green water plants, some of which floated on the water. Shore birds were everywhere—ducks (“water chickens”), herons, cranes, turquoise kingfishers that would hover and dive for fish. Annie and I taught Nelson to tread water, but we couldn’t teach him to float on his back. It was all joy. Our two drivers got in and produced a bar of soap, bathing Indian style.

This morning I didn’t have vegetable detail, so I returned to the sand dune with binoculars to watch the birds. Behind me in the wading stream, women and men were bathing and doing laundry. In front of me only little islands and birds. Tropical, nothing like U.S. When I walked back, Nelson took me for a walk in the village nearby. Very small, many poor people, some of whom the ashram helps.

Various people are enjoying various aspects of this stay. Some liked the lecture yesterday; others the worship; others the quiet; others seem too settled in to comment much. I enjoy being understimulated for the first time. Meditating as the sun rises and sets nicely marks the day’s transitions. Tomorrow we leave for the last part of the group’s trip, an overnight train to Cochin.