The MDiv story

Thoughts on lay responses to church sex scandals

2010-05-11T18:37:00.002+02:00

I wrote this in response to a recent times article reporting Benedict's words on the abuse scandals: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/12/world/europe/12pope.html

At a listening session at my church about the abuse scandals two weeks back I wrestled with the question, what can we (the laity) do about this. What came to me was not more watchdog groups, or focusing on one individual in the church. Instead, I imagined churches all over the country, coming together in prayer services, claiming responsibility (though not necessarily culpability.. I still have to meditate on that) for the sins of the church, and as John Paul II asked for forgiveness at the wailing wall for the sins committed against the jews throughout two millennia, we would ask forgiveness too for being part of a culture of silence, a culture of inaction and a culture that has enabled this abuse to continue. It was my thought, why wait for the bishops or the pope to enact this. We can change the church from the ground up. Wouldn't it be something if churches everywhere claimed penance, created a culture of penance and in effect shifted the world so that the bishops and the pope would follow suit. True penance does not allow a sin to continue and reparations and change are necessary. We would through our penance make change necessary. What do you think of that?

Now, this voice for penance comes from the highest (and lowest) position in the church, the pope. He isn't saying the bishops have to relearn penance, nor simply himself, nor simply the monstrous priest-abusers or the enabling bureaucracy (for its always more than just a bishop); instead, he is saying the whole church must learn penance.

In 1st corinthians 12, Paul says that if one member of the body suffers, the whole body suffers. When the body is the community, you can't simply "pluck the eye out" because it causes sin. It is easy to split the church in two right now (as Kristof does in the NY times), and identify "the bad church" of the vatican, the old boys club, and then the good church of the laity and of priests and nuns doing amazing work on the ground. If we are to change this church, we must do the counter-intuitive, and not only "take responsibility," but also claim responsibility. I believe we can do this liturgically, but it only begins there. We are responsible, not simply because we share in the sin of the church, but also because we are agents who can make a difference.

Walking with the immigrant on the Way of the Cross

2010-04-09T23:07:00.006+02:00

Here is a blog originally published at http://worshipincrisis.wordpress.com/ for a conference I am helping to plan. Any of y'all are welcome to join us on April 23rd at the University of Chicago or in our conversation online at our blog linked above.

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At the 4th station, Jesus meets his mother. We are asked to remember the suffering of immigrant families torn apart due to deportation. 32^nd annual Via Dolorosa. Good Friday, April 2^nd, 2010. Pilsen.

Attending the annual Living Stations of the Cross in Pilsen this year, as a Catholic I looked forward to a cross-cultural encounter with the Spanish-speaking Catholic community. Good Friday has always had a means of reaching across 2000 years of history, bringing the passion of Jesus into my mind and heart in meaningful ways. Rather unexpectedly, as the Way of the Cross of Pilsen proclaimed the plight of immigrant alongside the sufferings of Christ, this unified piercing message connected my own individual personal concerns and prayers to social concerns. My own spectatorship, the disconnected and thus detached observer of the plight of the immigrant became aligned with the silent spectators of Christ crucifixion in Jerusalem. And together, myself and thousands others on pilgrimage down 18^th street, Spanish and English speaking, sang out “Perdona a tu pueblo Señor” (Lord, pardon your people.)

The living Stations of the Cross began at 9 am in the basement of the Providence of God Church. A sizable crowd of around a hundred gathered with me outside, unable to enter due to the number of people already there. We joined with them on this mini-pilgrimage however, directed towards Harrison Park almost 2 miles away where the crucifixion was to take place. I have never participated in a Living Stations, and was excited to see this living relic of Latino Catholicism in America. At each station, Christ’s journey became the journey of the immigrant. At the 4th station, where Jesus meets his mother, Mary’s own suffering from seeing her son being taken to be crucified was linked to the deep pain of immigrant families torn apart due to deportation. At the 9^th Station, as Jesus falls the 3^rd time, we were called to remember the difficulties that many immigrant teenagers and children of immigrants face in completing their studies right next to a vacant lot where the Resurrection Project, one of the Way of the Cross’s cosponsors, would be building a new dormitory for Latino/Latina immigrant students. Throughout, Spanish and English speakers alike were called to remember and acknowledge their own lack of compassion before those within our communities living in fear, desperation, and in need. As we marched on, thousands joined, entering into this Living Way of the Cross that was as much an enactment of the stories surrounding us in and beyond the Pilsen parish communities, as it was an enactment of the story of Christ from the Gospels.

Though the grandchild of a French immigrant and a native of a region filled with migrant workers and immigrant families, it is easy to live my own life disconnected from the plight of the modern immigrant. This liturgical binding of modern crisis to the biblical crisis event that we lift up as a central part of my Catholic faith enabled me not only to attend to this social justice issue in a new way, but also to draw it into my full person in prayer. As a spectator of this modern day crisis, I was drawn into the spectatorship of the city of Jerusalem watching Jesus. I was equally compelled towards action as these living stations demanded the painful gaze of attention be directed to those families and communities all around us living under fear of the threat of disruption, as well as to the grief of seemingly irreparable loss as family members are deported out of this country without word or notice.

While the liturgical calendar seemingly trudges on without any notice to the ordinary lives that we lead, the Christian story equally can pierce through the layers of history and our own indifference to speak to our hearts and our social context as this Good Friday Way of the Cross illustrates. Theologically, the witness of Christ’s incarnation imposes an understanding that if we are to not “cling to” him as a resurrected Jesus warns Mary Magdalene from doing in John’s Easter season Gospel text, we must acknowledge the story of Jesus of Nazareth is not merely one moment in history, nor a locked away personal treasure, but instead continually lived out in the interconnected social world around us. Christ’s story is not lost to history, but living everywhere there is injustice, even in our failed immigration system. As Christ’s story liturgically fuses to our shared stories, new resources in ritual and prayer are given to us to align our suffering with this cosmic injustice of the God-abandoned crucified Christ and the ultimate triumph over death. As the liberation theologians used to proclaim, “Christ is crucified with the poor in their sufferings.” Those like me, who falsely live apart from this immigrant crisis that touches our neighborhoods and faith communities, are also impelled to solidarity in the realization that our own culpability as mute and inactive spectators of this modern day crucifixion calls us to responsibility to receive pardon and to penitentially move to new action. Witnessing the Living Stations of the Cross in Pilsen efficaciously draw thousands of us into the story of Christ and the story of the immigrant inspires confidence in the power of liturgy to affirm our faith identities not apart from our social context, but instead drawing in our pains, sufferings, histories, and even guilty inaction along with our whole hearts. “Perdona a tu pueblo Señor”

Michael is a 2nd year MDiv Student at the University of Chicago and a pastoral intern at St. Clement Church

Ash Wednesday Sermon: Return with your whole heart

2010-02-22T23:27:00.004+02:00

“Return with your whole heart”

Joel 2:12-18 and Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

I preached this sermon for the imposition of ashes service at St. Clement Church on Ash Wednesday, Feb. 17^th, 2010

My friend Justin hated Ash Wed as a child. He recounted to me looking up at his mom, with a scratch of ash in the sign of the cross on her forehead and pulling at her clothes, asking her, pleading her to take the mark off.

Justin’s recollection ends here. I imagine his mother calming his distress with soothing words. I wouldn’t pass so quickly over his response, however. Perhaps Justin’s reaction is more than just a childhood discomfort with seeing change on his mother. She was marked. She wore on her forehead that which remains hidden to the innocent eyes of a child, the failure and regret of a parent.

On this day where we mark ourselves in ash and dirt, we allow our finitude, our sin and our death to pierce through the pretty masks we wear.

We mark ourselves in our finitude. It does not belong to us to be anything but creatures. A pastor and poet named Walter Bruegermann writes

“we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:
of failed hope and broken promises,
of forgotten children and frightened women,
we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.”

We mark ourselves in our sin. We admit our wrongs as wrongs and not merely accidents. In a radically counter cultural way, we admit to failing; we have sinned. We don’t do that in America, certainly not publicly.

In this church today, we don’t mark ourselves, admit to wrong, to pick at the scabs of our failings. We mark ourselves so as to begin a journey.

Today we begin Lent, joining with Christ as he spends 40 days in the wilderness. It is always in the wilderness that Israel is called back to recommit to God.

In the first reading, Joel calls us to this journey today: Return to me with your whole heart.

This is message sent for the chosen people in Joel. The whole world struggles with this. Today, this is a message for us who have chosen to be in this church. In these words we are both radically welcomed, even as we are beckoned to wholeness

Return to me with your whole heart.

How do I come with a divided heart?

Many of us within these walls are shamebound. My shame shackles parts of myself away, keeping it out of sight of the community? Instead of shame, it may instead be my ambition. I put my best foot forward and I strive to look great on paper. To rise in society today, one must master well the maxim, “fake it until you make it.” For better or worse, we catholics have sung that tune for a long time.

It may instead be fear that divides my heart. I’m not ready to set aside my anger, my frustration, or even my sense of guilt, so I’ve quarantined it off, and leave it at home. It is out of God’s reach, free of the risk that an encounter with God entails.

We mark ourselves with ashes today so as to begin journey

Return to me with your whole heart

But a journey can only begin with where your two feet are at. I must start where I stand. It takes grace from god to see myself honestly.

Return to the Lord

Return with your anger

Return with your doubt

Return with you fear

With your feelings of inadequacy.

Return with the knowledge that your words have commited violence

Knowing that your silence has meant a failure to share your love.

Return with the injustice in society of which we are a part

Return equally with your beauty, with your relationships, with your success, with your joys, with your praise.

Return, Return, Return to your lord.

The ashes we wear already speak volumes: we wear on our forehead all of this. We need, as Joel says, to do the same with our interior, to bring our whole heart.

In order to begin to the journey, we have to see where our two feet are at. We have to accept ourselves as accepted by god. We have to accept ourselves as accepted by god and we have to trust our God who may and will transform us. God calls us to wholeness, not prettiness.

Return to the Lord, your god.

In our parish there are many ways we make this journey with Christ. We do it in our fast and in our penance. We are invited each and every Friday to walk with Jesus through his passion in the stations of the cross here at St. Clements.

Jesus tells us today how to begin this journey and how to return.

We are called to enter the inner room,- we seek a place of solitude. We are told to close the door. We shut our mouths, and we are silent. We listen. We allow the light of god guide our attention, sifting through the whole of ourselves, and we seek the hidden father. This is the true secret of ash Wednesday. Every journey is filled with anticipation for what is to come. We seek the father who is hidden within us. We move towards Easter.

Life in India (repost)

2009-09-12T17:37:00.000+02:00

The Chai guy

When it rains, it pours

This monkey rather aggresivley approached luke, a guy a i was touring with, and stole his soda bottle from his hands, opened it, and chugged.

flew onto my back... i, rather understandably, freaked out.

I'm Home!

2009-09-11T23:32:00.002+02:00

After 28 hrs of travel and being mostly awake for about 48 hrs, I finally made it home! I'll be in Oregon for the next 10 days and then back to chicago. I still plan on posting a few random things on here, so feel free to keep checking. In the meantime, if you and I are in the same zip code, I'd love to hang out!

mumbai

2009-09-11T23:32:00.000+02:00

mumbai synagogue

elephantine island

goa +2

2009-09-11T23:30:00.000+02:00

hard to resist a $1 shave.

the height of kitch

Goa

2009-09-11T23:25:00.000+02:00

St. Francis Xavier (the statue)

St Francis Xavier (the Altar of Bom Jesu)

St Francis Xavier (the body... inside a crystal coffin)

St Michael the Archangel

Fort Kochin

2009-09-11T23:23:00.000+02:00

A night at the theater

A hungry demon

Fishing

kochin

2009-09-11T22:53:00.000+02:00

8-9-09
Yesterday marked the beginning of the end of my travels, as I took my last train in India. Training has been my most basic form of long distance travel. Not only is it faster and cheaper than buses, but it is also more comfortable. As a Foreigner, there are a certain number of seats reserved on each train (or they would otherwise be sold out far in advance). While one could travel "upper class" that is to say, in the AC car, I have only had one voyage in such a car, and found it to be far too cold! In fact, so cold, the train automatically provides blankets for you. You do have the advantage of less people, as there are only 4 people to a row rather than 6, but this is also because you are paying at least twice as much. No, for the long term traveler, the 2nd class sleeper is just fine. To travel a distance of over 300 kilometers, I paid about 200 rupees, roughly 4 dollars. You have a reserved seat, so it is a step above the chaos of general class, but knowing that I have a place to lay my head at night is worth the extra rupees. Of course, for all the reasons I remember the train rides, I will not forget them. I had the worst chapati and dall of my life on the train. I often never slept through the night. When in monsoon struck areas, i was often visited by the spitting rain on my face. Often having the lower berth (closest to the window and the floor) I had to wait till 9:30 before i could ask people to move from my bed (the bench) so I could set up the bunks and go to bed. I had the misfortune of spending a number of nights next to people who would wake up at 4 am, turn on the lights and get their things to leave. The chai and coffee sellers start coming on at about 5 am, and if you weren't awake already to desire chai, their loud shrill voices would ensure that clients would be awake and in need. I felt a bit of anxiety in my first few train rides with a constant hand on my luggage below my bed, but thanks to elsa, I had a chain to secure my things for the rest of my journey. Still, for all my complaining, the train has been one of the best ways to move across the country. It cuts indiscriminatley across the country side, through fields, valleys, towns and mountains. sitting in the 2nd class has often assured me a seat next to an open window staring out into india's natural heritage. The train berth becomes the great equalizer. Your neighbor is anyonmous at first, but upon exchanging glances, all the possibilities are open. Often, despite hinderances of language, people will reach out in interest. I met 4 muslims from Kerala on their way to Dubai for another year of work this past trip. We could not really communicate in depth, but even on the limited topic of marriage (in addition to "how many brothers or sisters do you have, a constant topic of conversation), after the 2nd or 3rd time of being asked why I wasn't married, I said, "why do you ask, do you have a sister?" The entire group burst into laughter, and slapping my hand with low fives. I could have just as well been with american friends, though I think my jokes are probably less funny at home.

My final journey took me from Goa to mumbai. I was only in Goa for two days, and aside from the beaches, felt like i had visited the whole of it. That is an exageration, as I only saw two cities, but on the surface level, it was hard to know what else to do. We (a french man named fabien who I met on the train and I) had planned to stay in Old Goa, thinking, like Assisi, that there would be less crowds in the evening and it would be nice for walking. We arrived at 7 am and was lucky to be given our room earlier than check in time. After a long journey on the train (16 hrs), we were able to shower and rest before starting at it again. Upon walking into town, we began to realize that there is no real town and hardly any people to count for a "crowd". While at the outskirts there are an assortement of shops and restaurants worthy of a truck shop, close to the center, all one finds are churches. We visited perhaps 5 churches, most dating back to the 15th century, when old goa was the capital of portuguese india. It was abanadoned at one point due to an epidemic, and the capital moved 9 kms away. The whole area has now been declared a world heritage site, probably stifling any efforts at creating a larger urban center. Most notably, Old Goa houses "Bom Jesu", the final resting place of most of St. Francis Xavier. I say "most of" because I have already seen his right arm/hand in Rome and have heard that his feet are in japan. St. Francis Xavier was one of the uncorruptibles. When he died en route to china, his body was covered in lye to speed up the decaying process, anticipating the call to return his body to Goa. The man who started this noticed after a few days than nothing happened. His body remained incorruptible for about a hundred years, during which time he was canonized. (I read that before his canonization, however, a number of "relic hunters" already got ahold of him.) Sometime in the 1600's the body began to deteriorate, so I think they took some sort of steps to preserve him. Now the body is set above a giant golden altar in a crystal coffin, and is taken down once every 10 yrs for an exposition. It was strange for me to visit a pilgrammage sight which seemed to have so little life around it. Aside from the constant stream of local tourist buses, one wonders whether this is a place of devotion for the locals. After a night in Old Goa and a mass at Bom Jesu, we headed to Panaji. Here the Catholic portuguese influence is heavily felt from the names of people, to the old colonial buildings, to the food. It is the first time I have eaten pork since arriving in India! It was called Old Goan Sausage, and it tasted like extra spiced, slightly overcooked, hot dogs. While I know for many of you this sounds gross, but having missed every BBQ of the summer, this hot dog like speciality was well recieved.My days in Kerala before Goa were by far the most expensive of my trip. After leaving the abbey early one tuesday morning, I caught a bus to Kottayam and leisurly waited for 2 hrs for the public ferry. This 10 rs boat ride took me through the canals of kottayam and across the lake, through the backwaters to allepey. This lazy 2 1/2 ride was a fantastic transition from monastic life in the mountains back to the tourist travels that would characterize this last week of my voyages. I was able to grab some rather decent cheap fish masala (far better than all the other expensive fishy dissapointments I have had this trip) and caught another bus to Fort Kochin. Fort Kochin has had the longest constant interaction between europe and Asia, starting with Vasco De Gama's maiden voyage here. I even visited the now protestant, formerly franciscan church where De Gama was buried once upon a time. I met two lovely french ladies named lola and camille with whom I would spend the next 3 days. I also had a chance encounter in the street with Alex, the american with whom I chopped vegetables while talking theology at kurismula Ashram. Alex, the french girls and I visited the oldest standing synagogue in Kerala, dating back to the 15th century. It was a nice living reminder that while the european "discovery" of asia was limited to the 1500's, largely due to the overland obstacle of muslim held territory, that there had been in fact a long tradition of exchange between asia and the middle east going back as far to the times of christ. With Alex, we had another chance encounter, this time with a couple he had traveled with earlier in the summer, named Franz and Melissa, who had first met each other in portland. Franz declared it the best city in america, and that, with matching me in REI adventure pants and Chackos, became an instant friend. We also learned in the first five minutes that we both had a mutual friend who will be at chicago this coming year. The world is round indeed! That evening we visited some local keralan traditional theater. As the actors don't speak, and the story being sung behind is rather sparse, the majority of the story has to be told through facemovements. The demonstration before hand was perhaps some of the most dynamic eye movmements I had ever seen on an actor. It was truly fantastic. Kerala was by far my favorite of the states I visited. Not only did it have a diverse scenerey, ranging from mountains to beaches, and it had a true plurality of religions, but even its food showed a greater diversity in the types of vegetables and flavors used. Course, it could be that after 10 weeks in india, I was mostly satisfied because here i ate the closest thing to minestrone soup! There is a large keralan population in chicago, such that there is a separate syrian-malbar catholic diocese there. Perhaps in visiting a few, i can find somewhere where I can eat keralan indian food in chicago!

Lola and Camille, two french ladies who i visited kochin with

Outside the synagogue in Kerala

Kurismula in the fog

2009-09-11T22:51:00.000+02:00

kerala

2009-09-11T22:50:00.000+02:00

interreligious chapel

stations of the cross

meditation rock

integrative health center

2009-09-11T22:45:00.000+02:00

Fr Joseph and Malathy. Here Malathy and I learned all about Auto-Urine treatment....

I often felt like a giant in india

ashram on the river

2009-09-11T22:39:00.000+02:00

hindu pantheon on our hike up to the shiva temple

coconut

my reading veranda while at the ashram

tranquility

Shantivanam

2009-09-11T22:34:00.000+02:00

Shantivanam truly served for me as a bridge into hindu ritual. It is one thing to learn about the "other" and it is another thing to learn to pray as the other. My own first exprience at the temple was one of distance and of discomfort. I knew of coursed that this was soemthing deeply important for the poeple there, but I couldn't help but feel ill at ease.
later, as i gained more exposure to the temple, mostly by way of tourism, i moved from a mild revulsoion to amusement. It was almost as paul writes: we know that the idols aren't real, so we can eat their food in good consicence, I knew that I could redirect my prayer from the idols to my own sense of the divine, making the symbolic rituals of the hindu, but reserving always my interiority apart from the ritual..

Sunset on the cavery river.

At shantivanam, i was able, evn if only on a superficial level, to learn how to rpay as the hindus do, to see the deep symbilic significance behind the arachi, the bindi, the sandal wood, etc, and to know it not merely on an intellectuak level, but to pray it. I lived and experienced how inculturation and interreligious dialogue are related, because it was through inculutration, through finding the other within my own tradition, that I began to develop a deeper love for the tradition of the other. knowledge born out of love is of far more value relationally than knowledge born out of books.

Sunrise hiding the river destroyed by dredging below it. Nature can make every human tragedy into a place of beauty.

pics of people

2009-09-11T19:12:00.000+02:00

harmonica lessons

up to see shiva, only to be turned away by a lock

johannes the photographer

the aspirant sanyassis

Trichy!

2009-09-11T18:56:00.000+02:00

Malathy

Michael and the dancing shiva

Visiting Malathy's house

Double fisting coconut water

Life in india

2009-09-11T18:52:00.002+02:00

The chai guy.

When it rains.... it pours

This monkey rather aggresivley approached luke, a guy a i was touring with, and stole his soda bottle from his hands, opened it, and chugged.

flew onto my back... i, rather understandably, freaked out.

around pondi

2009-09-11T18:49:00.000+02:00

Social norming in India

Don't tell mom what she's getting for Xmas
)Photo taken by Johannes(

Stonework

The artist and his art
)Photo taken by Johannes(

biking in pondicherry

2009-09-11T18:47:00.000+02:00

On our steel stallions
)Photo taken by Johannes(

amazingly, we weren't hit by a car
)Photo taken by Johannes(

This child demanded to have a photo taken of him
)Photo taken by Johannes(

first time riding a moped! I didn't leave the parking lot...
)Photo taken by Johannes(

more from puducherry

2009-09-11T18:44:00.000+02:00

hanging around

sporting the new fishing hat

very excited eldery doctor

special tea!
(In restaurants that don't have liquor licenses you can order "special tea" which is beer served in a tea pot. Ingenious!)

photos from pondicherry

2009-09-11T06:57:00.000+02:00

Fellow travelers anna and Johannes

american and the italian

Visiting auroville...

worst hotel i've stayed in yet. Should have realized it when quality was mispelled.

goodbye india!

2009-09-09T08:14:00.001+02:00

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9537158645

blogs must wait

2009-09-09T08:12:00.001+02:00

broken computers means my flash doesn't work and all my nice updates will have to wait. head off to the US tonight! send good thoughts my way!

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9537158645

from the hills of kerala

2009-09-02T14:09:00.000+02:00

8-29

Yesterday, I had one of those days that every traveler eventually faces: the day where, due to every possible eventuality, travel that should have taken 3 hrs, ended up taking 12. I left Kalady at near 9 in the morning, setting out for the rail station, and then on to the kurismula ashram. At the rail station, I found that all trains for my onward journey on to goa and then Bombay are full. There is a great thing in India, called the tourist quota, where there are a number of seats reserved on each train for tourists with foreign passports. I was told that there are still some of those left, but this station was too small to sell them. I would have to go to ernakulum, one hour in the wrong direction. Are they sold at Kottayam, i asked? I don't know the man replied. It was at this point that I should have realized that I don't know often means no, and that I should take the tried and true path, rather than throwing chance to the wind and heading on. I then decided to catch a bus to kottayam, which was more or less in the direction of my final destination. What I thought would only take an hour and a half, however, stretched into 2 and 1/2. To top it all off, i found out at kottayam, that only 2 cities in kerala can sell the tourist quota tickets: Ernakalum and the capital Thir... in the south. I should take the train, leaving within a half hour, to ernakalum and I can get my ticket there. What should I do at this point? Should I go the 1 hr to ernakalum, knowing it would add at least 2 and a half hours to my journey, but then ensure that I have my ticket to reach Bombay in time for my flight, or should I continue on to the ashram, hoping those tickets would still be available 5 days later when I reached ernakalum again. This time, i took the sure route, and purchased a ticket for the city, and waited.... and waited.. and waited. The train arrived an hour and a half late, no small delay when there is a 9 pm curfew at the cistercian ashram. I reach there and after an hour of shuffling through lines, i was able to get my onward tickets. The next hurdle was to find my way back in the opposite direction to the ashram. It was already 5pm, the time I was supposed to reach the Ashram, but with 7 hrs of traveling already in the bank that day, what would another 4 hurt? I phoned the monks who suggested that if I can't arrive before 9, i should book a hotel on the way and come in the morning. Sound advice, but everything along the way encouraged me to go on. Course, I should have remembered when I was told that it was only 30 mins from Erratapur to kurismula, the town the first bus dropped me at that aside from Indian standard time, IST often also means Indian stretchable time. I arrived at the foot of the hill leading up to the ashram at 9 pm, and was reminded of the time I was turned away from the monastery in france to sleep in a mountain refuge (where i contracted a skin illness caused by bug bites), and had romantic visions of sleeping at the gate of the monastery. I was also burdened with now 3 times the books than I had brought down from calcutta with me, having amassed at least 80 lbs of texts at this point. On an empty stomach, and a day of taxis, buses and trains behind me, each step felt certain to be the last. The fog set in around me, limiting my field of vision to 3 feet ahead. Trusting only the tarmac beneath my feet, i trudged on.
It was almost a perfect arrival for such a long day when the now illuminated mist blew away, and the ashram buildings emerged like a firefighter through a smokey door. There the guest master greeted me, welcoming me to the ashram, healing any internal scar of monastic rejection felt from my visit in france 4 years prior. While I didn't have the courage to rise for the 3:30am vespers, the mass this morning perfectly set the tone for my stay here. Foreign and yet contemplatively comfortable, the mass took the community prayerfully through the whole history of salvation. The rich, green peaks surrounding us and the intermittent rain evoked healthy memories of home in Oregon and home in Normandy. The ashram despite feeling wholly local, also, with its rock cobbled roads, overcast sky, rocky peeks and grazing cattle, has a distinctly medieval European feel. I have been hoping that the monastic treats of Europe: freshly made cheese, local jellies and honey, chocolate (!) or a nice liquor would somehow appear in their bookshop. That, however, would be anything but local. Still, the freshly baked bread and the abundance of ashram grown vegetables are a blessing beyond compare. Furthermore, despite (because of?) its simplicity, the silence of the community, echoed by the sacredness of the space are far better conveniences than any luxury hotel can provide.
I am joined, besides my constant traveling companions of authors from time past, by another American who studied religion in America. I am happy to find a conversation partner who shares as much passion for the questions of Christianity on the ground as I do.
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9790889074

shantivanam- 1 week in

2009-08-24T16:39:00.001+02:00

8-24

One week already in Shantivanam and I find that I have quickly become accustomed to a lifestyle of reading, prayer, walks, and cows. Course, it is not too different than my life in chicago, but for the cows and the indian context. Still, it hasn't been the retreat experience I had perhaps hoped for. In part, with an absence of spiritual direction (though if I asked, I might find that) and with too frequent engagement with texts that may be less than devotional (though all has opened up exciting horizons on familiar theological territory).

Still, what seems most lacking in the ashram experience is a face to face encounter with the other beyond me. The ashram instead seems more focused on a realization of the other interior to us.

Is this a danger in the mystical journey? can the mystical contemplative play a role in pushing us towards the other, when it is centrally focused on the encounter with god in the depths of the interior? Still, abishiktandas work has pushed me to a new appreciation for the other as a manifestation of God. Does this totalize the other, or does the realization of the ultimate other and the ultimate same (God who is abyss and who is at the core of our being... distant and incarnate) present not only in ourselves but in ever manifestation push me beyond the silence of my veranda? In this respect though, this is an encounter that ceases to be interfaith relations. It ceases to be a meeting of the other in the other and instead the other in the self.

As Sanyassis (hindu "monks" who renounce everything in pursuit of God), Monchanin and Le Saux must have had constant engagement with the hindu religious other both in their daily lives, in their study and in their studies. Bede also welcomed such an encounter in the interior of the ashram itself, inviting all, while also participating in local festivals and meeting with religious leaders. I still wonder what role the ashram now plays.

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9790889074

Shantivanam-- first impressions

2009-08-24T16:34:00.001+02:00

8-19
In some respects, sitting here on my little veranda at the shantivanam ashram, with a full stomach, shade to cover me from the draining heat and cows mooing (though they really sound like their ommmin... maybe this is why cows are sacred?), I could feel like I'm in a mini paradise. Certainly, one couldn't tell the young calf prancing about freely that it is anything otherwise. Shantivanam was founded in 1950 by Fr. Jules Moncharin and Fr. Henri Le Saux (who later became Swami abishiktesveranda, which means "he whose joy is the Lord's anointed, Christ" later abridge to Swami Abishikananda, and always easily referenced for the linguistically challenged like me as Swamiji. After Jules Moncharin passed on, and Swamiji hoped to pursue the summit of christian and hindu mystical experiences to their full in a hermitage, the care for the ashram was passed on to Fr. Bede Griffiths. Today there are some 9 members of the community living were, with 2 more in bangalore studying theology for the priesthood, and one more who is a missionary in LaCrosse, Wisconsin. The Ashram was conceived of as a place for the interreligious encounter both between believers of different faiths, but also more intimately interior to the believer of any one tradition as he or she encounters both the christian sacred texts side by side in prayer. The cultivation of prayer and the search for truth was the initial goal of the ashram when it was founded here on the banks of the kervy river with the construction of two thatched huts by moncharin and le saux. Le Saux deeply interiorized the search for a connection point between hinduism and christianity on a mystical level, proclaiming that the three fold hindu advaitic godhead of saccianada is the trinity. While both Fr. Moncharin and Fr. Griffiths were less radical in their thought, they too sought to explore new dimensions of Christianity through the lens of hindu thought. I have already heard many strong critiques of this form of inculturation from different angles of the church who say that they are only seeking to inculturate into a single aspect of hinduism, brahaminic hinduism. While I still have much thought and reflection ahead of me, what I have read seems to indicate to me that at least Fr. Griffiths expressed in his writings a deep appreciation for every aspect of religious expression in India and further afield, even as he held up christ as the measure for an engagement with any of these. Perhaps I'm naive, but his focus on a contemplative theology goes beyond a mere contextualization of Christianity, that is to say, the incarnation of Christian truths into other cultural forms, and instead, seriously appreciating the mystical experience of other traditions, seeks to explore those truths. Furthermore, the example of Fr. Griffiths seems to indicate that a critical engagement is possible that allows for a mutual critique. While I cannot deign to even try to achieve the mystical experience of either Swami Abshiktananda or Fr. Griffiths, the fruit of much meditation, in addition to my study here, I do hope to more fully immerse myself in the experience of prayer. Having had the opportunity to be broadly exposed to the social agenda of the church, perhaps here my research can be cast in a more contemplative light.

I have only been here for 2 days now, but I'm quickly enjoying the rhythms of prayer. (still, I haven't managed to get up in time for the 5 am chant yet!)

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9790889074

no cell again

2009-08-21T05:25:00.001+02:00

well, this time nothing was lost or stolen. Instead, the service provider decided to cancel my sim. No good, eh? I am, until further notice, under the radar. In case of emergencies, however, I can be reached at the two numbers below:

Shantivanam
04323-222260,

Jackie grimmit
94427-07229.

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9790889074

Orissa to Calcutta

2009-08-14T07:24:00.000+02:00

Elsa and I have been trucking along since I last blogged. We are now spending our last day together, as mid-afternoon, we split and go our separate ways. For the past few days we have been staying in a dilapidated colonial era hotel in Chennai called the broad lands lodge. It is a great place apart from all the mosquitoes, the absence of curtains and the 4 am wake up call from the mosque next door. Still, my thoughts return to Orissa. I am working against the unconscious inclination to set these experiences behind me, even as I may continue to fight for justice in words. It's not easy. Simone Weil says that to pay attention to human affliction is almost impossible, and any occurrence of it is like a miracle. I don't think that she is too far off. We listened to many stories of human suffering, of people running for their lives from those who would murder them if they did not convert. We saw people in the camps, still living in tents, unable to return to their village. While we heard their stories, I wonder how much we were really able to listen to them. In part, I think it comes from the defense mechanism, hearing but hardening your heart so that the moment the plea for money comes you are able to withstand it. While I hate what money does to potential relations, even more so, I hate what money does to me. I hate how i feel I have to steel myself to such a demand, even though I already know that I legitimately cannot solve their problems.
While these people are in need of relief and charity, before charity, they are in need of justice. As the pope said in his latest encyclical on development, Justice is not extraneous or alternative to charity, rather, justice is the minimum measure of charity and development. These people of Orissa need justice, deserve justice, deserve what is rightfully theirs! They deserve security and peace. They deserve to have compensation for the negligence shown by the government. They deserve to have legal justice: to have the looters and in particular the murderers and the` organizers of the catastrophes be brought to justice.
Still, that does not forestall the demand that they be paid attention to, that we truly listen to them and feel their pain and suffering. Instead their stories came like a distant dream in an impossible world, rather than the hard reality of life. The father who was killed a year ago in the conflict is now forever gone. The camp of 50 christian families are living without land to till, still dependent on what meager resources they are receiving from relief organizations. One wonders how people live on in hope. Still, I must not paint a picture entirely of misery. Those sisters who we met working with them have spoken of a certain joy instilled in these people from these experiences. I can hope it to be true, and have seen them smile at our arrival and in our interactions. Some women we met spoke of how seeing us there, they were able to forget their worries, and that is why they were smiling. Representatives at a baptist camp spoke of how this strike against them has helped them turn away from material worry, recognizing that everything comes from God. The stories of the persecuted, modern day confessors (the name given to early Christians who survived torture and still refused to recant their beliefs) are emboldening. Still, I found disconcerting a certain fatalism, which said that this violence only came about because of God's will, and will only end by God's will. While on a fundamental level there can be some merit to what they say, I worry that it keeps people from expressing their own agency. More so, I worry that they will be less inclined to be channels of God's justice and peace through the legal and governmental systems here in the country.

Our journey in Orissa ended with a long bus ride followed by a long train ride. We landed in Calcutta the next morning, staying at a guest house that was set in the middle of a long stream of Missionaries of Charity homes for the sick, the dying, the destitute, for women, for orphans, etc. Just walking on the main road, I counted 5 of these Mother Theresa houses. Even if the signs were not there, the streams of foreign volunteers heading either to mass or to breakfast at the mother house every morning and the higher concentration of people begging on the street would alone be a sign of the sisters presence. We attended mass one morning at the mother house and ate breakfast with the volunteers following. With so many people from all over Europe and America, I can imagine that Calcutta would be an attractive place to come volunteer: a middle ground between the isolation found in being a border crosser, and an experience still wholly other. Mother Teresa's burial place, accessible from the first floor of the mother house, was a simple raised coffin in the middle of a concrete room. While nothing exotic, there was still a sense of sanctity about the place that made it easy to enter into deep prayer. The sisters themselves serve as an interesting phenomenon in the question of Inter-faith relations. I have become very interested in the question of the spaces that we create to facilitate in the encounter with the other. For the sisters, this space is need. Wherever there is human need and human suffering, it is their charism to be there. In speaking with a sister in Orissa, I learned that there is more than just humanism here. Not only do the sisters find Christ in this religious other, because they are thirsty, because they are hungry, because they are poor, but it was "mother's" philosophy that you need to encourage a Muslim or a Hindu to be good Muslims or Hindus so that they will encounter God there.

One could begin to think that christian discipleship pushes one out lovingly towards the other, and that it is christian discipleship which encourages the religious other to deeply pursue their own faith. My own reflections informed by my readings and experiences have led me to believe that christian discipleship constantly pushes one beyond the walls of the church in love towards the other. This is not a blind love, but as Benedict writes, it is love in truth. In this truth, we recognize that all people are God's children, particularly the orphan, the widow, the stranger, the hungry, the naked, the dispossessed, and the prisoner. Not only are we pushed towards the other, but we find Christ in this other. Love demands, however, that we respect the other as other, as a Muslim, as a Hindu, as an Indian, even as we seek and see God in them. How does one then begin to make sense of that in the other which disturbs us, which is strange and foreign to us?

from calcutta

2009-08-14T07:16:00.000+02:00

Victoria memorial palace

St. Paul's

New Cell number

2009-08-14T06:45:00.001+02:00

No, another cell phone hasn't dissapeared. I got a new number that is local to tamil nadu. It makes it easier to recharge, and receiving calls is free. Speaking of which, family and friends, feel free to give me a call by skype anytime (well, with a 11.5 hr time difference, mornings and evenings work best). It's only 2 c a minute from skype to an indian cell. Just plug in the number below, but without the +91 country code.
So, here it is: Cell: (+91)9790889074

I'll be in Pondicherry this coming weekend and in shantivanam near trichy for the 2 weeks following. Shantivanam is a christian ashram, that follows monastic rythymns of life but seeks to explore correlations between hinduism and christianity on a mystical level. If I reach enlightenment, i'll let you know.

pour ma famille en france

2009-08-13T12:41:00.001+02:00

Voici un extrait d'une email a ma tante en france. Il explique un peu mes experience ici en france.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Je suis très content de voir que tu as vu mon blog. Souvent j'ai l'impression que j'écris pour un trou noir! Je dois écrire qq chose en français pour ma famille la bas. Malheureusement je commence de perdre mon capacité écrit pour la français. (même maintenant, je ne sais pas utiliser des accents avec cette nouveau ordinateur donc, seulement des mots corriger par l'ordinateur ont des accents). Donc, lisez cette email gracieusement, comme je n'ai pas un de mes tantes ici a me corriger. =) L'Inde est vraiment incroyable. Je ne suis pas si pris que mon expérience en Afrique, mais je le considéré comme un don, comme ça me donne la possibilité de voir plus critiquement et c'est enrichisse mes pensées beaucoup plus. C'est très difficile de même comprendre la situation de l'église ici. Il y a des vieux et forts exemples de l'incultuation avec Henri Le Saux et le père Monnarchin. Ces mystiques ont essayer de trouver un liaison entre l'hindouisme et la foi chrétien dans les expérience du "profond." Ils ont commence un ashram que je vais visiter pour deux semaines au fin d'aout. Il y a plusieurs de theologue qui l'ont suivi dans leurs efforts a trouver des liaisons entre les deux foi. Il y des autres theologue qui critique cette effort parce que il dit que c'est seulement un effort a inculture une foi brahmanique. Ils disent que la foi chrétien doit être sur la cote du pauvre, "le Dalits." Souvent ils disent que le dialogue n'est pas possible a cause de cette système du castes qui est fondamental a l'hindouisme. Ce n'est pas facile. Surement la foi chrétien ne peux pas être incarne dans une culture, mais ça doit être incarne dans chaque culture. Au même moment, il porte une vision de justice qui transforme au même moment qu'il est informer par l'autre. J'ai trouve cette dernier encyclique du pape d'être très intéressant au niveau du dialogue. Il expresse bien que la fondation de l'amour, Caritas, est la justice. Il y a aussi un liaison essentiel a la vérité. Je vois que l'amour peux vraiment purifier la dialogue, laissant les gens a aimer l'autre comme l'autre et pas comme un extension de moi ou mes idées.
maintenant la demande pour une dialogue du base, entre des êtres humaines et très claire comme je suis en Orissa, une district Inde, ou les chrétiens était attaquer il y un an et aussi huit mois avant ça. pendant on prends courage des histoires des chrétiens firme en leur foi qui n'est pas convertie en face de la persécution et même mensonge contre leur vie, la situation qui a laisser un idéologie du haine a fleurir est découragement. Encore plus, a entendre comment même aujourd'hui la gouvernement n'écoute pas la plainte des peuple chrétienne qui ne sent pas qu'ils peuvent vivre en sécurité chez eux, particulièrement comme des criminels marche encore dans la rue en pleine liberté. Comment on peut tourner la cœur de la gouvernement, je ne sais pas. Il y a comme même des petites ténèbres de l'espoir. Ici a la "kuidina for Peace and Justice" organisation, il y a des gens de tout religion, lies par leur culture qui combatte pour les droits humaines. Il y a des sœurs et de prêtres qui ont retourner a leur paroisse et leurs institutions avec plus de courage. Il y a des avocats qui combattes des mensonges et des situations difficile pour la justice. Même, il y a des éléphantes, qui commence de détruire des maison en orissa. des hindous dits que c'est le dieu chrétien, venue comme un éléphantes a venger des chrétiens. Heureusement, les plus partes de chrétien ne veut pas se venger, mais vivre en communauté avec des hindous. C'est important a moi a clarifier que ceci n'est pas une combatte entre des hindous et des chrétiens, mais c'est une conflit instiguer par un groupe des hindous fondamentaliste, les même qui ont tuer ghandi il y a 60 ans. L'organisation RSS et ces enfants le BJP, etc, a infiltre tout les aspects de la société, et il avance leur idéologie fasciste de l'hindutwa qu'il y a un nation (inde), un religion (hindou), une langue (hindi) et une culture (brahmanique). Donc, des autre religions et leurs pratiquants, comme la christianisme (qui est dans la sud depuis le 1ere siècle) et l'islam qui a bien influencer la culture du nord, sont considéré comme des étrangères. Au même moment, des autres cultures et religions indigène sont considéré soit pas vrais, soit des subsidiaire de cette père hégémonique.

Bref, j'ai commence d'écrire une email, et je crois maintenant je suis en train d'écrire une thèse ou une novella. Comme même, c'est seulement que je suis si heureuse a recevoir ton email que j'ecris une si longue lettre. Il y a même encore pleine d'autres expérience a partager. J'ai vu des temples anciens et le tombeau de St Thomas, j'ai gouter la nourriture délicieuse, j'ai rencontre une vrai « Charles de foucauld » dans la sœur manju qui a vécu 9 ans seule parmi des mousleman, restant présent a eux, j'ai partager des chansons avec des kui, j'ai prier avec des mousleman, des hindous chrétiens une service inter-religieuse, j'ai vu le travail d'une artiste chrétienne qui laisse sont imagination être toucher par tous des contextes ici, etc. Mais, je dois laisser ces histoires pour un autre fois, peut-être quand je reviens en France. Ma vie la bas avec toute ma famille me manque beaucoup et je pense souvent a toi et la famille. Mémé si qq fois je me sent déraciné avec tous mes voyages, un peu comme le christ « SDF », je sais bien que je trouve toujours un « chez moi » avec ma famille au USA et en France.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9537158645

mass in the camps

2009-08-10T16:27:00.000+02:00

Joining the sisters at mass at a road side camp

The largest hanuman (monkey god) I've ever seen

A throw back from the palace at hyderabad. It just seemed to go on and on.

From the camps

2009-08-10T16:18:00.000+02:00

"They said we can't go back unless we convert... we won't do that"

Kuidina forum for justice and peace

mass in the camps

out of orissa

2009-08-10T13:38:00.001+02:00

8-8
Our journey through Orissa has taken us now to Udiguri, a town who has been severely hit by the violence of last year. Here at the kuidina peace and justice organization, we heard the stories of victims who were chased from the homes, threatened with death if they returned as a christian. We heard of efforts by people to get protection from the government, even recieving written authorization for security from the human rights commission, receiving nothing and instead being chased into the jungle and forced to hide for 3 days without food or water. We also heard how people are now being forcibly relocated from the camps, set in a field, but with no provisions, no shelter, nothing. The government wants to put on a good face by formally ending the camps and saying the problem is over, but meanwhile they are doing nothing to ensure the security of the people. This is what we are being reported. people have lost faith in the government. Meanwhile, some of these same victims are reporting that they have not recieved any moral or spiritual support from church leaders. Up till now, not one priest or pastor has visited the village where this man was chased away from.

listening to the stories of these men and women, one can't help but feel helpless. This is not a situation which money can solve or relief can solve, even though that is even still desperatley needed. What is needed is for the government to take its proper role of ensuring the security of all its citizens. The sad thing is that this violence has a history dating back to the 1980's and has not been confined by its worst manifestation one year ago. We heard just yesterday that another activist has been attacked. Even now the lawyers fighting the cases are being threatened.

8-9
It seems strange, just two days before the festival celebrating the birth of ram krishna and ten days before the one year anniversary of Swami Lakshamanda to be leaving orissa. There is an air of fear and apprehension in the air as to whether the attacks will happen again. Just last night we have heard of some isolated incidents against certain christians. While I should feel justified in leaving for my safety sake (in fact we booked our trip and tickets without these dates even in our mind and we are in no danger where we are staying), but instead I feel like so many of the church leaders from across denominations who had the money to move out of Kandamal while their people were left behind to face the fate of persecution. Yesterday we had a chance to visit a few camps and to hear the stories of those who are still living in fear and in squalor. Some of these christian communities are living only yards from their village, but still do not have the resources to rebuild or the confidence to return. We have heard from church organizations like caritas that they are in the planning stages of rebuilding, but those people we met with didn't mention that. One community of 53 families that we met said they cannot return. They were told by the RSS leaders of their village that they could only return if they converted, which they are unwilling to do. The peoples faith here is rather admirably, even if at times i find it to be fatalistic. These people do not need charity or mercy. They need and deserve and are owed Justice and Justice only. The christians here have a right to live in security and have a right for fiscal retribution from the government who neglected to protect them during the conflict despite direct commands from the human rigths commission to do so.

Staying with at the kuidina for Justice and peace organization, I have begun to get a completely differnt picture of the conflict. It was easy in Brahampur to see this as a question of Dalit christians versus tribal hindus who had been influenced by the hindutwa ideology. On the ground, however, I began to realize how much these categories of Dalit and tribal are constructions of a post independence india. Instead, we see how the kui peoples cultural tradition is being systematically trodden upon both by westernization and sanskritization. Instead, particularly with the brahminic hinduization of the people, we see how a caste system foreign to their society has been imposed. Furthermore, one can see the injustice of government categorization which does not recognize indigenous animisitic religion as something unique or set apart and instead places it under the category of Hindu, just as Jain, Sikh, and buddhism are as well. One sees how an "inclusive pluralistic" religion becomes used as a hegemonic cultural force. I hope that this blog is not being read in any way as anti-hindu, for that is neither my sentiment nor my intention. Instead it is trying to recognize and affirm the deeply particular identities of people and culture wherever they may be found. Any effort to call the kui historically as hindus (I say historically, since the coming of the railroads has brought "evangelization" efforts by hindu groups to bring "backwards" people into the fold) simply because of a govt distinction is pure intellectual laziness.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9537158645

the seminary

2009-08-07T09:30:00.000+02:00

The seminarians from this cappuchin seminary were fleeing through the jungle for 5 days without food and water. Even now they are still afraid to come back and have moved the seminary. This chapel was set to the torch. Only after a lay man from kerala moved here did members from the local community stop looting what was left behind. Not a stick of wood can be found inside.

more destruction

2009-08-07T09:27:00.000+02:00

left over from the mob

Mary Statue at the Carmelit convent

bug

beauty and violence

2009-08-07T09:24:00.000+02:00

sunset while on the run

The pastoral center in Orissa

Burned car at the Social Service center

Torched guest room

hyderabad on the road

2009-08-07T09:21:00.000+02:00

apparently the fresh prince of bel air moved to hyderabad

HMI

Traffic jam

2009-08-07T09:15:00.000+02:00

largest pieta i've ever seen

Henry Martin Institute Prayer Center

Mike, Cate and Katrell get vicious in a took took

The view from my porch in orissa

Bombay

2009-08-07T09:07:00.000+02:00

Indian Washing Machine: 5000 men

Orissa flash

2009-08-07T08:49:00.001+02:00

Visiting kandhamal and hearing about the violence committed against the Christians there has echoed back to so much of what I heard in Rwanda. Though much smaller in scale, the atrocities is just as terrible. We arrived in K. Nuagon on Tuesday night. Under the cover of night we could only catch a glimpse of the left over violence, now almost exactly one year later. Jana Vikas, a Catholic social service center held 2 immobile burned 4x4s and a number of 2 wheelers which had been set to torch. The cement walls which were covered and petrol and burned in august of 2008 still are covered in soot. On entering, we also learned that it was here, in the same sequence of events, that sr. Meena was gang raped, and paraded naked with a priest by a crowd of drunk, angry and violent hindus. The attack itself was sparked by the killing of Swami Lakshmanda, an 80 year old religious leader who had been spreading his hateful message in Kandamal for the past 20 years. An RSS man (RSS is the original Hindutwa movement), Swami Lakshmanda stood for the assimilating Hindutwa message that stands for 1 religion (Hinduism), 1 language (Hindi), 1 culture (brahaminic caste system) in India. It was his wish that Christians would be purged from Orissa, and when he was assassinated by Maoists on Aug 23th, 2008, his followers decided to make that dream a reality.

At Jana Vikas, we met a Father , who came from a village where 7 Christians were killed and where his own father was forced to convert to Hinduism at knife point. This priest is helping run the social center, which has over 150 social workers out in the field doing relief work and restarting the centers prior activities. We also met 2 bold young JMJ sisters who are living in a burned out room and providing whatever assistance they can. Still, it is clear that more help is needed.

That night we slept at the pastoral center, which too still carried the marks of last years devastation, with a burned jeep out front and half the building covered in soot.

The current (unofficial) count is that roughly 90 Christians have been killed, though the govt, trying to soften the state of the situation. This count is also not including those who have since subcumb to their wounds and passed on, or those who may have died in the forest while fleeing. Over 5000 houses were damaged and a number of churches, convents, seminaries, and church institutions across denominations were attacked, damaged, looted and destroyed. Many priests and sisters fled into the forest to save their lives. While I have read about the violence, going to see the burned vehicles and destroyed houses has brought this whole situation to reality for me.

We have spent this week in Orissa, with the first half in idyllic Golpalpur by the sea attending a workshop put on by the Forum of Religious for Justice and Peace on the conflict in Orissa. My room was on the third floor, and from the balcony you could see the sea over the tops of palm trees and papaya trees. This whole journey through Orissa, we have wondered how such atrocities could occur in such a beautiful place. The highlight of the workshop was Dr. Ram Puniyani, an activist who elsa and I already had a chance to meet in Mumbai. He led the group through some of the basic myths of communalism (defined as the misuse of religious identity for political mobilization), helping them to eventually identify the root issues of the violence. While the official party line is that it is aggressive christian conversions which are sparking this violence, that is only a facade that is used to hide a systematic agenda to maintain power for the BJP and for maintaining the status quo of the caste system. It is ironic that RSS officials will happily have their children educated at catholic institutions in the cities, but cry foul when Christians start schools in the village. Education brings the ability for tribals and Dalits (literally, the broken people) to recognize their own capacity and their own rights and to fight for them.

Here in the Kandamal district, we also met with a Carmelite Sister who courageously faced the prior violence 8 months earlier on Christmas day, and who, coming from Kerala on August 23rd, traveled through roadblocks set up by the mob, disguised as a sick person, in order to reach her convent. In the absence of so much christian leadership, who saved their own skins, the sisters presence was comforting and reassuring for the people. While I pose the question to myself of what I would do in such a situation, her own story is inspiring.

It has been equally discouraging to hear about the legal front. A small team 7 of lawyers comprising of those from the diocese and those from the Human rights law network are fighting to bring culprits to task here in Phulbani. Unfortunately, however, the RSS had their legal defense in place long before the violence began. With over 100 case here in phulbani, the resources of the accusers is certainly strained and many cases are already ending in acquittal.

Meanwhile, many church leaders from across the denominations have been surprisingly silent, only focusing on relief efforts. The one stalwart voice has been the catholic archbishop of Kandamal, who took the issue to the central gov in Delhi and who instructed priests and nuns to return a few months after the violence.

While this violence is terrible, everything I have heard about the RSS's infiltration into the media, the police, bureaucracy convinces me that the church needs to take a systematic approach to disseminating secularism (here in india meaning the respect and tolerance for all religion). This is not a fight between hindus and christians, but as Dr. Puniyani says, a fight for and against democratic and secular values.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9537158645

new cell

2009-08-01T17:42:00.001+02:00

Cell: (+91)9537158645

more from gujaret

2009-07-31T04:34:00.002+02:00

You find the same image at every mother teresa chapel

Sadguru Jesus - at the CMI bishop's cathedral in Gujaret

Elsa and Fr. Cedric

touring islam in India

2009-07-31T04:27:00.000+02:00

mosque

notice number 3

tree of life

Ahmdabad... Amdedevad???

2009-07-31T04:15:00.000+02:00

Jain temple

jain temple

landscape service

taking a break

Long time no blog

2009-07-28T07:48:00.001+02:00

Mlecheva

It has been quite a while since I've had a spare moment to update this blog. Since the moment I left for Hampi from Bangalore, I have seemed to have had a full schedule. Apologies, thus for the over long, laundry list of traveling experiences. I welcome all comments, even if you don't finish reading the blog. It gets a bit lonely writing into the unknown and hearing nothing back. I had hoped that the mustache would bring out comments en masse, but I think instead it caused readers and viewers to keep their guffaws to themselves. No worries, shame me, critique me, converse with me. I welcome all!

anyways, take your bathroom breaks now, silence your cell phones, cause here is the long awaited blog update!

I arrived in Delhi almost a week and a half back. In Delhi is where I started traveling with Elsa, and where my travels took on a decidedly "Haraka haraka" flair. Elsa has been to India twice before, once living here for a year after her studies, and is entirely aware of how short 10 weeks is compared to the amount that there is to see here. I have been blissfully ignorant of such facts, and have had a rather sedentary approach to my research. Elsa is a fellow Mdiv student at the University of Chicago and is here on the same grant as me studying the christian response to the violence in Orissa. There are some very clear and obvious links between our work, though hers has more practical appeal. My contacts half fell through in Delhi, so I was able to avail myself of this time to do some tourism. My first full day in Delhi took me to "Hindu Disneyland" Unfortunately I can't recall the actual name as this is the only way I have been describing it for the past week! This recently constructed temple was dedicated to a particular swami who as a 12 yr old in the 1800's left his family to wander as a traveling holy man across India I saw the whole thing on a live action imax screen, including special effects like turning a renegade oppressive priest into a clean disciple, by way of magic vines that wrap around him. I missed out on the "hall of values" which has a robotic exploration of values. The third exhibit was a boat ride (reminiscent to its a small world after all) that recreated 4000 years of Indian history. For each discovery, be it democracy, algebra, chemistry, before it was done anywhere else, the Indians did it. Aside from Indian exceptionalism, the ride was surprising in that it ignored any of the Muslim or christian history on the continent. While I am not sure of the political persuasions of the temple, and wouldn't want to cast a shadow on their integrity, this selective telling of history or even actual rewriting of it is typical of the neo-fascist right wing fundamentalist groups, who go as far as renaming originally Muslim cities into hinduized corruptions so as to hide the Muslim influence.

The next day, I took a rather long bus tour. I was a bit concerned as I was supposed to start the tour through the ITDC at 9, and by time 11:30 came about I had already been shuffled off and on to 3 different buses. The tour took us to the Indira gandhi memorial museum, th lotus temple, 1 of 7 bahai temples from around the world, and the Qutb Minar complex, which contains the beautiful ruins of a mosque and a giant minaret, as well as your typical trade emporiums, the "arch of India" dedicated to soldiers who died during world war II, and a view of the house of parliament. The tour ended by dropping us off near jama masjid mosque and the red fort with almost no time to visit them. Most of the tour was in Hindi, with the occasional English word dropped in, so I decided to use the transit time as a way to catch up on my latest book on CD, the Iliad. Were I to do it again, I think I would scrap the whole bus tour, take the metro to the old city, and then selectively find my way to the other sites.

On Sunday, Elsa's friend Cate and I set off in search of religion, first attending a Sikh Guduwara, then a catholic church service. The Sikh service seemed to have a constant stream of individuals coursing through the building, often stopping in devotion in front of their holy texts, or sitting in a state of repose, while musicians and singers provided a meditative background. Never having encountered Sikhism before, I was intrigued by this strictly monotheistic religion who appears to have its roots in a fusion of Hinduism and Islam. The practicing Sikh male is often easily identified by his turban and his long beard. Believing in a chosen people of soldier-saints, the Sikh's also carry around a small symbolic knife for religious self-defense.

The Catholic service had the typical lackluster English hymns (a stark contrast to the vibrant vernacular services I have attended), and the homily would have been lost on me too, had there not been a passionate three minutes where the priest spoke of our christian duty to serve as symbols of Christ's unity, creating harmony between religions, and not allowing our faith or our lifestyle to cause seperation between us and the people of other faiths.

India did it again, however, and I found myself for most of the rest of the day ill in bed with a bad case of Delhi gut.

On Monday, I set off early for Agra, having already once changed my ticket in order to meet with a priest who has done work in Inter-religious dialogue in Delhi.

I met a Canadian girl named Christine who was traveling around the world after most of a year in Australia. We threw our lot together in the face of hecklers, hagglers, faux-tour guides and aggressive taxi drivers, arranging for an all day taxi to take us to Fatehpur Sikri and the Taj!

Fatehpur Sikri, built by the grandfather of the man who built the Taj, contained palaces for each of his wives (all of different faiths) a beautiful mosque, with an ostentatious gateway of victory, and a tomb of shaikh salim Chishti, a saint whose miracle enabled the king akbar to have a child. His tomb is still venerated by pilgrims of all faiths, and bringing a cloth to offer to the poor, we were able to make our own wishes. Don't worry mom and Dad, I didn't ask to be having any kids any time soon.

Following a trip back to agra in which my cell phone mysteriously disappeared at a restaurant, we visited the famous Taj Mahal. It was a free day at the Taj, so Indian men, women and children from the region all came to see the great site (normally 20 rupees for an Indian citizen) and to commemorate the great love that this king had for his wife that led to such a momentous construction. The story goes that when the emperor Shah Jahan's wife was pregnant, she told him that if she were to die, that he must build some sort of structure in memory of her. She died giving birth, and the king was so heartbroken that he commanded that the taj be built. The king was later imprisoned by his own son, and only saw the taj from his prison cell. The structure was unreal, and I felt as if I was seeing it as a movie, not really present. We joined the mass of pilgrims who wrapped around the taj one and a half times. They had the most intimidating line guards one can imagine, police with giant rifles, who even still were unable to suppress the Indian habit of cutting in line. The terminus of the line was the tomb of the emperor and his wife, where Indians young and old would touch the hem of the fabric covering the tomb and touch it to their face. When I later asked a friend intimate with the Muslim community why there is such a high veneration of the king, he said it is not the king they are venerating, but the great love that he had for his wife which allowed him to build something magnificent.

That same night found me on a train once more, heading to Jaipur, where I stayed at the Jaipur rose after meeting the hotel owner by chance in Delhi Exhausted though I was, I graciously accepted his offer to try Indian scotch, a surprisingly smooth whiskey. Seems everything can be found in India!

I once more hired a private car, though this time a rickshaw driver named saddik, to spend the day visiting the city and its environs. I imagine that for you, as for me, all this tourism eventually blends together, so on a matter of highlights, I can tell you that I fed monkeys peanuts by hand as I walked up to the sun god temple overlooking the city of Jaipur. On the top, I had a great conversation with a french traveler as I shared some of my thoughts on the complex religious situation in India. I also met a new age guru who read my shakra. He gave me sound advice, saying that I need to meditate more so as to calm my restless spirit. While some of his surprisingly accurate proofs seemed a bit gimmicky, overall the man seemed well intentioned, even if I find the whole framework of shakras and birth stones, etc more than a bit suspicious. On the whole, I find the whole desire to have other people define who we are by giving cursory insight into our person to be rather dubious, be it in psychology or in mystics. What harm can it do, I've been asked. I think it can become pretty self-centered, particularly as people seek out some sort of personal magic or gimmick to deal with their problems. I was told I'm not destined for the US because I'm suited for warmer climates. Well, to such things, I say, "let thy will" not my will be done.

I also got constant comments on my mustache, which is of no surprise as the curly q mustache was the style of the maharaja for at least a few centuries. Now only traffic cops and middle aged Indians seem to sport this facial feature.

I had such good long day in Jaipur that I didn't think to check my train ticket. Blast, the 24 hr clock beat me again as I confused 20:40 with 10:40pm. Both rickshaw driver and hotel owner joined forces to get me on a late night sleeper bus to Ahmadabad. It was a miracle that it came through, as most of the buses in that direction stop running at 7, and we only just caught this bus minutes before it was leaving. The mattress of the bus was of the cloth variety, and I could feel the grime and sweat of the hundreds of individuals who slept there before me.

In Ahmadabadd, I rejoined Elsa at Prashant, a center for human rights and social justice where sheinternedd for 3 months the year prior. There we were taken by the hospitality of Fr. Cedric Prakash SJ, the director of the institute and an outspoken advocate against the local government on behalf of human rights. The situation in Gujaret has been rather grisly, with a long history of sporadic violence against Muslims and Christians, many of which were orchestrated by the Right wing Hindu fundamentalist movement, culminating in riots in 2002 which left over 2000 Muslims killed. There are still many small ways in which the BJP (right wing) govt and society at large perpetuate violence particularly against Muslims, who have been ghettoized to select regions of towns. Aside from a few prophetic voices, fr. Cedric included, there has been little solidaristic responses by the christian churches here.

Fr. Cedric is also the chaplain for the Missionaries of Charity (mother Teresa's congregation) in Gujaret, so we have had a chance to see their work. It, along with many of the other social services of the Catholic church who are indiscriminate in whom they serve, are important ways in which the catholic church participates in the constant dialogue of religions which makes up the dialogue of life. Even this, however, finds its obstacles, and recently the right wing govt in Mumbai has taken over a leporasarium and a hospital which were being administered by the Catholic church.

In Ahmadabad, I also got a chance to see Nandita, a friend who I met at the Watson conference in california after we both spent a year around the world, then again in Rwanda, now here in her native India. It is wonderful to have intercontinental friends! Next stop, South America.

There is always so much more to tell, and when I reserve it till the last moment, 2 weeks later like this, I can only imagine that it begins to look like a laundry list of travels.

Here are some of the directions that my thoughts have gone.

After recently reading the pope's new encyclical, and becoming more immersed in situations of conflict between "religious" groups, the question of justice and dialogue is pulsing in my mind. I think that the framework of love in truth as presented in the encyclical provides a strong framework for rethinking the fundamentals of dialogue. Dialogue, coming from dia-logos, is at its base communication. Through love, not only is communion possible, but dialogue can be purified so as to prevents its instrumentalization for even the best of purposes. Instead, while the growing in knowledge of the other and even the appropriation of what is good in the other traditions can be an outgrowth of loving in truth, as benedict writes, justice is the base minimum for love, not an addendum, and it will be out of love in dialogue that justice can be sought, and demanded. It also provides the criterion for when dialogue can occur, for in a state of injustice there can never be true dialogue.

Other short thoughts:

When someone rudely encroaches on your physical space, say your train bed, by sitting in the free left by your legs, do something culturally insensitive, like spreading eagle your legs, to shame them into moving somewhere else.

Want to convert your cohort member, just stay with a priest and go with him to all his morning masses every day.

Did I say this already? The new papal encyclical rocks.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9558148420

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Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: (+91)9558148420

olliphant

2009-07-25T19:06:00.000+02:00

lounging about

the sacred

2009-07-23T19:49:00.000+02:00

holy hanuman

holy cow

holy priest

turbans and monkeys

2009-07-23T19:44:00.000+02:00

pretty sweet

a bag of peanuts brings joy and monkeys

2009-07-23T19:43:00.000+02:00

now that is scary

Water palace: one thinks of the merchant of venice, eh?

Faceting jems

golden triangel hypotenus: jaipur

2009-07-23T19:36:00.000+02:00

photo shoot at the cemetary

doggy art

storming amber fort

gate fit for a king

pose for the photo part II

2009-07-23T19:29:00.000+02:00

this is what happens when you go to the Taj on the free day

welcome monsoon

pose for the camera

2009-07-23T19:26:00.000+02:00

beyond agra

2009-07-23T19:24:00.000+02:00

Islamic door frames

Christine, my canadian traveling partner for the day

Gate of victory

on to agra

2009-07-23T19:19:00.000+02:00

mobile propaganda

palace of the queen at a ghost town near agra (name to come later)

a king's seat

token tribute to a christian queen

2009-07-23T19:12:00.000+02:00

place of prayer

bicycle taxi anyone

We bring the fashion market to you

pray like a sikh

a bite of delhi

2009-07-23T19:09:00.000+02:00

electric pick-up sticks

THE minaret

Minaret par excellence

Bahai temple: 1 of 7 worldwide

new cell!

2009-07-23T19:03:00.001+02:00

(+91)9558148420

2009-07-21T06:29:00.000+02:00

a mustached salute to times of yore

2009-07-21T06:25:00.003+02:00

I have been getting constant comments about how i look either like a certain freedom fighter or like the maharaja. Even the french couple i met noticed that this looked like the old french officers stash. OII (Only in India) would I get such a response for such facial hair: "Great mooostache!" . at first only the hawkers mentioned it, now everywhere i go i get stares... stares of admiration with comments ensuing. or perhaps i'm just another crazy foreigner in India

cell phone stolen!

2009-07-21T06:19:00.001+02:00

well, that means that until i get a new one, i'm unreachable from the stateside. Sorry to disappoint.
I've had an exciting past few days in delhi with elsa and her friend from the Henry Martyn institute, Cate, and in Agra. It included everything from a somewhat sketchy bus tour, to hindu-disneyland to a sikh religious service and getting sick again! this time, it was delhi gut. Thank god it is gone now after a healthy dose of antibiotics. Yesterday, I visited Agra and now i'm in jaipur. This is what we call whirlwind sightseeing. Tonight i catch an overnight train to ahmdebad.
more to come.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: ?

stolen cell phone

2009-07-21T06:14:00.001+02:00

for the moment i'm without cell phone contact. Please do not bother trying to call my old number. I will put up another post when i have a new cell phone.
cheers,
michael
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: ?

mustache on the way!

2009-07-16T07:15:00.001+02:00

mustache countdown: 2 days

people and people

2009-07-16T07:10:00.000+02:00

locals on parade

police with cowboy hats. Love it

Aurore and I on our way out of hampi

chariots and entrances

2009-07-16T07:07:00.000+02:00

Great place to bathe

sturdier than a volvo

gateway to heaven

rickshaws and luxury

2009-07-16T06:55:00.000+02:00

We seemed to keep running into these guys, and having the same conversation (hello, how are you, what is your name, what country are you from)

the Queens' summer palace (lotus mahal?): a combinations of hindu-islamic styles

I could live here

Gods and monsters

2009-07-16T06:49:00.000+02:00

Royal Monolithic Ganesh- sans stomach (chopped off by the muslim invaders)

Mustard ganesh for the common folk

tete a tete

Man-lion Avatar of Vishnu

from Hampi

2009-07-16T06:40:00.000+02:00

1008th guru of the hanuman math in Dehli

rice sacrifice

boulder gazing

priests lounging about at Durga temple

Temples and gurus

2009-07-16T06:28:00.000+02:00

I have spent the past two days in the ancient town of Hampi. The town used to be the center of an empire over half of southern india, until it came to an abrupt end after being ransacked by a confederacy of deccan sultans. This is evident by the number of temples from the 14 or 1500's which are no longer functioning because they were desecrated (i.e. the shrine's statues were broken) by the (muslim) invaders. Hampi is also important as the birthplace of hanuman, the monkey god, and the site where Rama, an avatar of Vishnu, spent 4 months while in search of his wife Sita, who had been stolen by the demon Ravana. Hanuman, along with a monkey army aid in this conquest. After befriending a french traveler named Aurore at the rail station in Hospet, we set out together by Auto for Hampi. Staying on the other side of the Tungabhadra river, in the village of Virupapur Gaddi, we had a fantastic view of rice paddies and grazing bulls. After resting, we set forth to visit the temple of Hanuman. On the way up the hill, we came across two Sanyasas (hindu ascetics) from delhi, and were welcomed into the small temple by two sanyasas from utter pradesh. The guru of the math (hindu monastery) in Dehli devoted to Hanuman was there too, and the monk next to me explained that he will not speak, unless he wishes. Well, later, as I explained my project, the guru did in fact speak, explaining in hindi and with gestures that relationships between catholics and hindus were good, between hindus and protestants so-so and between hindus and muslims, it wasn't possible! He is the 1008^th guru of his math, according to a well spoken airman visiting the temple with them. After visiting the temple, the monks insisted that aurore and I stay for lunch. It was a true show of indian hospitality. They wouldn't even accept cash from us for "temple upkeep."

The following day, leaving our little island, we did a bike tour of the larger region, visiting many of the 14^th, 15^th and 16^th century structures. We saw the giant monolithic imposing Ganesh (Elephant/man God of luck, health, prosperity, etc), a giant man-lion avatar of Vishnu (protector God) and a giant Phallic representation of Shiva (God of destruction). We biked to the lotus mahal, a luxury summer palace built for the queen of the time, and hiked to Vittala Temple, an 15^th century, never consecrated temple complex complete with a stone chariot.

road side snippet

2009-07-13T07:53:00.001+02:00

Sitting by the side of the road, helping children practice their broken english, while waiting for some form of transport, any form of transport to take me the 7 k to get to the junction were I could catch a bus to take me back to town brought back muscle memory of patience from my year long jaunt in africa. Taking the communal, 3 wheeled auto-rickshod over intermittently gravel, rocky and paved roads, bouncing up and down, hanging on to the ceiling so i wouldn't fall out the back brought different, more painful memories to my muscles.

Also, true to my travel experiences, i've already lost my hat!

Follow the link to see a video from a taxi ride in Chennai. It captures a typical experience of travel and traffic that can't be put into words
http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FNS_uJfaPrI4WYkPuFLGsw?feat=directlink

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: +949003176932

inculturated stained glass

2009-07-13T06:41:00.000+02:00

Jesus' death

Jesus offering the church to GOD

Christian Ashram where i spent the night

2009-07-13T05:33:00.000+02:00

Mary as Bhakti (devotee)

Jesus rising from the ant hill

2009-07-13T05:29:00.000+02:00

Mysore's palace

The garden at Ashirvad (where i've been staying) in Bangalore

2009-07-13T05:22:00.000+02:00

The demon of Chandra hill

transit en commune par excellence

the giant bull of chandra hill

Chandra hill

2009-07-11T10:37:00.000+02:00

Sacred cows

Uncles bringing their offerings

The gateway

colonial/post Xty in photos

2009-07-11T10:35:00.000+02:00

St Philemone

I don't look indian, do I

Caucasian Jesus?

2009-07-11T10:30:00.000+02:00

He was smiling before we took the photo... What happened?

Sri Ranganatha Swamy temple

I got dotted! this is kibi who toured with me.

more short thoughts

2009-07-11T10:26:00.001+02:00

these come less frequent than the long ones!

7/7

Sleeping in a mosquito net is like sleeping in a fort!

7/9

Disadvantage of a curly mustache: hair for lunch

Jyoti's art

2009-07-11T10:24:00.000+02:00

2009-07-11T10:19:00.000+02:00

For some reason i love this. it's like this has been here since independence

Modern day peddler

Jyoti showing me his crucified christ

Bangalore and Beyond

2009-07-11T09:53:00.001+02:00

Blog update 7-11

I have been in Bangalore now for five days. As I expected, many of my initial hesitations and anxieties were dispelled the moment I set foot on the road again. I found my traveling feet again, and fell back into a rhythm that came to define my life in Africa, of arriving in a new place, becoming familiar with the local resources to meet my spiritual, mental, physical and research needs, branch out into community following one lead to another, visit the local sites, make new friends, and plan for the onward journey. I do find comfort in this liminal state, always betwixt and between destinations. The traveler is a species set apart from the tourist and the ex-pat, with a completely different set of mentalities that frame his or her trip. Enough with the vacuous meanderings!

I came to Bangalore with only two specific goals: Meeting Mr. Jyoti, who runs and art ashram and to participate in an interreligious prayer service, which is to take place on Sunday Having found the city significantly easier to maneuver about than Chennai, and hearing of other scholars worth meeting, and sites worth seeing, my days have been filled with planning, contacting folks, and conversing on interreligious dialogue. I was particularly struck by one priest who called pluralism providential, saying that God wants to love me through these other religions. It was perhaps the most spiritually inspiring account of pluralism that I had yet encountered.

Seeing Jyoti's work and hearing of his experiences here, confronted me with the distinct challenges of inculturation and interreligious dialogue and made me aware of an inherent competition both between these two disciplines and with Dalit Liberation theology. Not only have I heard that inculturation theology is often seen as a foil to interreligious dialogue, since it raises suspicions among the interlocutors, who think that it is an effort to evangelize: the church as wolves in sheep's clothing, but also that Dalit theology serves as a counter to both these efforts. Apparently, many of the Christians in India are of the lower castes, and one of the prominent local theologies that has sprung up is Dalit theology. This theology according to my interlocutors, takes on a rather negative view of Hinduism, reducing it down to the caste system. Adopting Christianity becomes a form of protest, just as adopting western culture at least on the superficial level of clothes also becomes a form of protest. Part of the challenges facing the church as it approaches the question of inculturation is that there is such a plurality of cultures that one cannot simply choose one among the many. De Nobili, one of the first practitioners of inculturation here in India in the 1500's acquiesced to the sensibilities of the higher castes, setting up in effect a segregated church system, one for the high castes and one for the lower castes. Nobili's problem seems similar to that of St. Paul. Even though there was no jew nor greek, slave nor not slave, he wasn't able to demand that Philemon released Onesimus as a slave. (imagine that, Michael Le Chevallier referencing the bible!) The critique has been raised that thus far practitioners of inculturation in Ashrams and elsewhere are only adapting to the elite theologies of the higher castes.

(See my prior post- Jyoti's art ashram for more details about him and his ashram)

There is, of course, more to tell, but that would take more pages than I have time to write.

My trip here hasn't all been located inside churches and offices. Yesterday, I took a tour bus to Mysore and Srirangapatna. I was very happy to see that I was only 1 of four non-Indian foreigners on this tour. It often disappointed me in Africa, to see that much of the tourism that I partook in was either only accessible or of interest to foreigners. Local tourism itself seems to be thriving, as there were two buses heading off to Mysore from this govt tour agency. Our first stop was Daria Dalut, the summer palace of Tipu Sultan, whose father, a common soldier, had usurped the royal throne with the aid of the french (always depicted in the paintings there as mustached.) Tipu Sultan himself was defeated by the British, who annexed the kingdom, placing it back under the rule of the Wodeyars. We also visited the Sri Ranganatha Swamy temple, for which the town Srirangapatna is still named. Following our visit there, we drove to St. Philemon's church. Built in 1932, this is one of the largest catholic churches in India, and reflects a soaring Gothic style similar to many European churches. There was a battalion of police stationed in front of the church, as Mysore was a site of violence between Muslims and Hindus the day before. There is a crypt with a statue of St. Philemon and a relic, though I'm not sure if this is a site of great devotion among Catholics

As it was a special Friday during a particular month, the masses had come up to Chamundi hill to make pilgrimage to to the Sri Chamundeswari temple. There were people lined up all round to enter the temple. As I approached the temple, I saw an interesting sight. There were two cows sitting on the ground, and many Hindus who passed would touch them as if to rub off some of their own sacredness onto them. Dangling on the temples were monkeys, many of whom picked at the flowers adorning the temple for the occasion. One monkey actually leaped onto a boy from our group. While Hindus treat these as sacred animals, the father of this boy was certainly protective, and looked willing to bat the monkey away should he jump on him again. Our group paid Rs100 each for the right to walk pass the pilgrims on the fast track into the temple. There, at the front of the line, we joined pilgrims shuffling there way up the stairs through the temple gates before the statue of Chamundi, a warrior goddess who is the patron deity of this region. There were so many offerings, that many from our group found their offerings of coconuts turned away. Much of Hinduism remains a mystery to me, and I don't know where to draw the line between the notion that all shrines and statues are merely forms of the ultimately formless, and the popular devotions I am seeing. Driving down the mountain, we saw from the window of our bus, Nandi, Shiva's bull vehicle, carved out of solid rock in 1659 (according to the lonely planet India). It too was adorned with flowers and surrounded by pilgrims.

Our final visit of note was to the Maharaja's palace. There, I felt transported back to a time of king's riding on elephants, of opulent architecture designed by Europeans that fused together Hindu and Muslim styles. I was in the center of the mystical vision of the orientalists. As we were unable to photograph inside, I only have memories to document my journey. I found most impressive the wedding chamber, whose ceiling seemed to scale a hundred feet tall, and was supported by colorfully painted, cast iron columns shaped to appear as if they were marble. Most of the palace is made of non-combustible materials, as the previous palace burned down, and no expense seemed to be spared. Finished in 1912, this palace had from the onset electricity and a working elevator. A private reception room had a colorful stained glass ceiling that set a golden hue to the interior. Standing where the Raj would sit, looking down to a silver door, I could imagine him holding court here.

On the bus ride back, I was able to watch a Bollywood film with English subtitles. It was my first exposure to Bollywood, and I found it to be rather endearing, though simplistic, unrealistic and silly as most romantic comedies are. Hopefully by time I finish here, I will have the chance to see a few more.

Well, I always find it hard to go through describing such a journey without it becoming a laundry list of activities. I hope whoever you are out there that you enjoy following along my passage to India through this blog, and I welcome any and all comments. Otherwise, I hardly would believe that anyone read this!

Until next time,

Michael

A side note:

I know that many of my friends find it difficult to stay up to date with the various different blogs they may look at. I recommend checking out Google reader. There, you can have all the blogs you follow feed into one page, so you can always check there to see if something new has been updated. You are also welcome to subscribe to my blog, and have my posts arrive direct in your email inbox.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: +949003176932

Jyoti Art Ashram

2009-07-11T09:52:00.002+02:00

Jyoti Ashram – http://www.jyotiartashram.blogspot.com

The Jyoti Ashram is located in a village called Silvepura. Silvepura is a christian village that was founded in 1872. How might there come to be such a thing as a "Christian Village", I asked Jyoti. Apparently, after a famine struck the region, the British offered to resettle some of the displaced and downtrodden people (mostly dalits, the sub-caste, I believe).They asked if the MEP, Missionaire Etrangere de Paris, the priests who were at the time were running the mission in Pondicherry, if they wanted to settle the people. The priests said yes, and people were able to move there and with support from the mission, for houses, land, etc. on the condition that they convert to Christianity. Being in a state of desperation, they agreed.

Many more Dalits have converted to Christianity and other religions since independence, hoping to change their social situation. While this has been possible for some of the lower castes, due to education provided by the church, it is neither immediate, nor universal, nor even broad reaching, as most Dalits are still in the same socio-economic positions, and for some it has become even worse, as they have lost the Government reservations (affirmative action positions) that would have been available to them otherwise.

Mr. Jyoti is an artist who settled in Silvepura in 1972. He was a close friend of Bede Griffiths (who married him to his wife Jane) and is, I would consider, one of the early post-Vatican II vanguards of inculturation work here in India. He has worked largely on an artistic front, designing churches and adorning them with art work, employing a Jungian methodology of symbols in order to draw from the many Indian traditions. He has extensively studied the tribals and their myths and symbols, many of which still inform his art work. Much of his art work, including his earlier mandala work, has been picked up by the German organization Missio who uses it in their fund-raising ventures in Germany. While claiming the right to be called Hindu, due to his own father's Hindu status, Jesus is his sadyuguru(sp?), and art is his "sanyasa"(sp?) or spiritual discipline. He has also recently used art as a vehicle for interreligious dialogue with other artists.

The art ashram was initially created by Jyoti as a place where people could explore the religious imagination. While it is Christ who animates his own spirituality, he does not see this as an exclusively christian space, and offers it up as an interreligious space itself. The Ashram space can house up to 12 visitors, and more often accommodates retreatants and people participating in art workshops that he or his children run. His wife, Jane, first came to India from England to study Mahatma Gandhi's ashram movement, and now runs an alternative school on site, which seeks the help Dalit children overcome their own internalized sense of inability, and to flourish as students and human beings.

While Jyoti's work has had a broad appeal abroad, here in India, there has been a diminishing interest since an initial flourish after Vatican II in Christian art work that strays from the norms set by European missionaries from the 1500's on. Christ at the door, by that famous English painter (I've never been good with names), would still be preferred to local art. Paintings and prints are often of a noticeably Caucasian Jesus. Jyoti themes cover the broad range of biblical themes, centralizing them into the various different Indian contexts. His work was rather impressive, though I was sad to learn that kitsch religious art has greater traction among the christian population at large.

Why am I here?

2009-07-11T09:52:00.001+02:00

Here is a letter I wrote some 8 months ago explaining why I was interested in coming to India. While the questions guiding my project are constantly being reassessed in light of my experiences and conversations on the ground, the initial inertia behind this journey steers true.
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I finished a year of research on inculturation/contextual theology in Africa impassioned with the ideas I was engaging with, yet discouraged by its sparse application in churches beyond a theoretical setting. I walked away convinced that all theology is contextual and that a proper inculutration theology can be liberative in its affirmation of human identities. The obstacles of anthropological poverty that privilege "western" theological formulations, and the obstacles presented by ecclesiastic authorities who adhered to more roman interpretations prevented inculturation as liberation theology from turning into a movement. My year of study, however, continually pointed to India, as the next step for pursuing my own passion of the relationship between faith and culture.

I concluded this year of exploration in Senegal. In many respects, Senegal's milieu echoes that context of pluralism found in both the Indian and the American context, for within a Senegalese family, one might find a Christian, a Muslim and a practitioner of traditional religion, all living co-harmoniously. In Senegal, I began to approach the question not so much as a dialogue between a Christian faith and a local African culture, but as Christianity being one of many partners in this community of conversations. My interviews with priests, religious and theologians there raised the question for me, of how this pluralistic context itself can be a departure point for doing theology.

Indian Christianity, with its strong critique of colonialism and its commitment to conversations between faiths, is an ideal place for me to continue this research. In exploring the implications of these interfaith conversations, I hope to better understand how engaged clergy and laity wrestle with questions regarding the nature of God and revelation, humanity and salvation, and pluralism. Working with both theologians and with engaged Christians, I hope to better understand the theology undergirding interfaith dialogue, and how it is born out in day-to-day inter-religious interaction.

Studying here at the University of Chicago, I carry the questions born in me from a year of intercultural experiences. My own commitment to context keeps me rooted in a theology that is done from the pew. This theology of the pew recognizes the active role that the laity play in our churches today and seeks, in this recognition, to help conscienscitize the laity in their own reflective autonomy. Thus, I see this not only as an extension of the work that brought me here to Chicago, but a deeper expression of that particular trait of our ministry program: a blending of deep theological understanding and critically aware ministry. Pursuing this research work in India will give me the opportunity to hone the critical skills that we are being taught here in Chicago within the context of practical theology. Furthermore, I hope that my studies of theology within pluralism will not be segregated off to a question of "world Christianity" but will continue to inform my studies as I pursue a theology from the pews even here in my diverse American context.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
email/skype: mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Cell: +949003176932

Greetings from Bangalore

2009-07-07T08:03:00.001+02:00

Blog update 7-7

Today now marks 2 weeks since I first began my travels to India. It is thus fitting that I woke up this morning in a new town, in a new state in India. Last night I took a night bus from Chennai to Bangalore. I originally had arranged to have a chair in a bus, but for just 2 dollars more, I upgraded to a sleeper. These are really fantastic inventions. In the place of chairs, the bus has bunks installed. I was in the very last one, so with every bump the bus hit, I went flying. I was a bit worried taking this bus, as what was a relatively minor case of Traveler's gut went operation iraq on me, and left me deeply concerned about an 8 hr bus ride! Thank god for modern medicine.

Bangalore is noticeably colder than Chennai, as it has a higher elevation, and it is in monsoon season. I will be here for a week visiting an Christian Art Ashram, and attending a formal interreligious dialogue session. Chennai was a beautiful place, but I am happy to leave behind some of the travelers anxiety that I had accrued there, and to start fresh in a new town. While I found loyola college to be idyllic, with great access to conversation partners over meals, books, and quite space for reflection, the comfort had almost been crippling. I had greater anxiety at times about moving out and about, mostly because apart from a few prime sites to visit, the city lacks a center distinguishable to the traveler. Were I to live in Chennai, and organize my life around this city, i can imagine that this decenteredness would almost be ideal, for wherever you go, you can find a little of something, be it electronic shops, internet, cafes, hardware stores, local shrines, etc. Instead, diving into that unfamiliar traffic laden city, with no guide or friend employed, is always a tiring effort. I had anticipated my trip to Bangalore where I will be centrally located and forced beyond the confines of easy geographic comfort to fulfill all my needs. At the last moment, a beautiful housing opportunity opened up to stay at one of the jesuit institutions. Seems comfort may win out once more. My research, however, will take me further afield, and will thus be the vehicle of my adventuring!

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
www.mikeintranslation.blogspot.com

On Christian names

2009-07-05T14:19:00.001+02:00

7-2
On Christian names
Doors into Indian culture can happen anywhere when traveling. While at breakfast today I met a scholastic. Upon asking what his name was, he said it was John Paul. I asked if he had another name, and he said no, just that one. The elder Jesuit, soon to be heading off to Guyana on my right told me that I had just hit on something. Below is a piecing together of some of what he has told me. An Indian christian these days could have 3 names, all in the first name. They do not however have anything like a surname. The surnames in Tamil nadu were linked, i am told, to caste. For a long time, a person would have first a family name, then a given name and then their caste name. When the Jesuits first arrived, the people asked if they could continue in the castes system if they became a christian. The Jesuits said sure, all that matters is that you become a christian and in this manner, they counted their trees. Eventually, however, they began to realize that in doing so, they allowed the caste system to persist within their churches, and they served as a means of distinguishing between Christians Thus a good poison was set into the system, and they decided to no longer have the family/caste name, and now people only have the name given to them at baptism. Some Hindus have also adopted this, but of course a Brahmin is only recognized as a Brahmin with all his/her rights if s/he maintains this name. Thus they maintain their name, and only the low castes eliminate this sur name. One can still distinguish then between the high castes and the low castes based on whether they have a name or not.
The priest had a rather low opinion of the caste system, saying that it was not of Indian origin, but came from the Aryans Even saying, that should one look at the Vedas they do no speak of the castes, but only of vocations or guilds.
It is difficult though, because it is so ingrained in the Indian mind, that even Christians, have not been able to escape it. India is made up of some 80% Hindus, the majority of whom see the world through the lens of the castes.

He did say, however, that there is value in it. For example, a person trained as a goldsmith would ensure that his sons are also trained as expertly as he is. This poses problems today, as the world modernizes. You have people who know nothing but weaving, for that is their family occupation, and already they are paid very low. Now with factories making textiles for cheap, they are in a tough situation.

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com

Twitterable thoughts

2009-07-05T14:07:00.001+02:00

7/3

I'm feeling a little nostalgic for Oregon. Must be the rain.

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I've been trying to kill the same mosquito for the past 4 days. hopefully he is domestic, and won't give me malaria or dengue fever.

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What do love about India? wearing sandals all the time, and being able to walk barefoot whenever i'm inside.

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I find it to be disconcerting that ants like my snot.

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I keep thinking i'm getting bit everywhere, but never see a mosquito. Am I going crazy? Then again, ants are really small and pack a punch.

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Indian toliets: powerwash optional

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mmmm fresh mango juice.

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I feel both triumph and trepidation as I smash the mosquito, and see from within him my blood splatter all over. I hope it is a him too, as I seem to remember hearing that only the female mosquito carries malaria.

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com

St Anthony's Shrine

2009-07-04T10:09:00.000+02:00

Blog

First of all, new cell: 9003176832

7/1
on Tuesday, June 30th, I visited the Shrine dedicated to St Anthony,
St. Antony's Church (officially known as St. Mary's Co-cathedral). The
church was surprisingly active, with people of interspersed throughout
the pews and walking up and down the left and right side. The church
walls are lined with statues of the saints, who each are wearing
flowers that may have been put there by devotees. There were dividers
set up along the sides so as to direct the flow of people. Almost as
if making a pilgrimage, individuals would walk down the side, touching
each statue, and saying a brief prayer then continuing to the next
saint. The statue of St. Anthony holding a baby Jesus was the central
object of pilgrimage. A continually replenishing line of over 60
individuals were lined up to pass this statue, carrying with them
flowers that they would hand to the caretaker next to the statue. The
statue itself, though named St. Anthony, looked much more like a
Syrian bishop, with a long beard and a bishops hat. The caretaker
would place the flowers on the shrine, sometimes even taking a child
to press up against the statue, and then would retrieve other strings
of flowers, break them and hand them to the pilgrims. The space in
front of the statue and behind the line of pilgrims was set aside for
those wished to pray before the statue. While I have seen such
actions, prayer before statues, the touching of objects of veneration
before, somehow in this Indian context it seemed different. Instead,
it called to mind the visit to the Kapaleeshwarar Temple, where
devotees offer flowers, food, money to the priest, who returns with
flowers, which people pocket, or ashes from burned offerings
(non-animal) that are then spread on the forehead. One would ask if
this is some mixing of religions with Christians praying in a Hindu
manner, but then one realizes that there among the devotees there men
and women who are themselves Hindu. This complicates the question of
what is going on all the more, for the group of pilgrims themselves
are multi-religious, even as they share a devotion to Jesus and St.
Anthony. This type of expression of faith stands in stark contrast to
the regimented masses that I have attended. Granted the daily masses
and one Sunday mass I have assisted thus far have been in English on
the Jesuit campus, but the strict imposition set on the mass by the
Vatican to use only prayers translated from the Latin curtail any
"creative" expressions of the faith beyond accoutrements. It is
interesting to see how these popular devotions cut across lines of
religious affiliation even, and their shaping is not one that is
decided on high, but is already in a state of inter-religious
dialogue, though not explicitly. With every engagement with the
symbols and structures of Indian culture, be it the flowers now, or
the caste system historically, this work has always been one of
interreligious dialogue.

7/3
The St. Anthony Saga continued.

I have begun to think of Fr. Xavier Rajan(or as he told me, roi de
roi), my retired jesuit friend destined for Guyana, as my trusted
dinner time informant. Without much provocation, Fr. Xavier can tell
me the most illuminating details about india. I decided to raise the
topic, after some prodding from an email correspondent at home, some
questions regarding this experience at St. Anthony's shrine (St.
Mary's co-cathedral). What follows are reconstructions of what came
from that conversation, though as I have a dim memory and had no
recorder, and cannot be taken as actual quotations from fr. Xavier. It
turns out, in fact that he was there that same morning. He was very
happy to see not only that the place was full (he had been there in
time for the mass that was held at 11) but also that there were 2
priests who were recieving confessions from the catholics, and who
gave blessings to the Hindus who came to them. I too noticed the same
thing happening, though at that moment there was only one priest. The
hindus are not only present and but also welcome at the church, though
at the mass, an announcement is made that only catholics are to
receive communion. Why do people go there? THis statue of St. Anthony
seems to have a proclivity towards prayer. The ironic thing, is that
this statue is not St. Anthony at all. No one knows who he is, but as
St. Anthony of padua is well devoted to already in India, and is known
to be a miracle worker, that name was given to him.
This is popular devotion, but embedded in the center of the day is the
mass. The church does not just tolerate this devotion, but welcomes
it. It is afterall, making money for the church. This devotion only
occurs on tuesday and is in direct competition with another shrine:
St. Sebastiens, where pilgrims go on the same day.
So why do hindus go there? Apparently enough people have prayed and
recieved what they need, that it has gained renowned beyond the small
christian community. Among the common people (Christians and Hindus)
people will pray to whatever works
What does Fr. Rajan think of all this? It is wonderful. Recognizing
some dependency on a force outside yourself, particularly here where
it is ascribed to the supernatural, is the beginning of faith. Faith
anywhere is good, and where it may be mingled with superstitions, it
can be purified.

I asked after the flower offerings as well.
He explained to me that it was an indian ritual. When the hindus go to
the temple to worship, they often bring offerings, flowers, foods,
money, and as I mentioned above, some of this is returned to them. the
act of the offering itself is called punjab and if i remember
correctly, the smaller returned offering is called pettam. This is
returned offering is a sign that God has accepted your offer. This
functions in precisely the same manner at the St Anthony's, and even
the flower stands out front seem precisely the same as those in front
of the hindu temple.
Fr. Xavier noted that we do exactly the same thing in Christianity,
where jesus is offered up to God in the sacrifice of the mass, and a
smaller portion of that whole is returned to us in the eucharist. I
myself had never thought of the offering in this way, and one can see
how interfaith awareness can edify your own spirituality!

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com

2009-07-02T08:56:00.000+02:00

Joseph Vincent Murdoch: June 19th, 2009

2009-07-02T08:50:00.000+02:00

A view from above

Local English... probably more widely spoken than American English. Wish there were signs like this everywhere

2009-07-02T08:49:00.000+02:00

Quite unlike Mary stateside

St. Anthony and the Pilgrims

Flowers for the Saints

Wouldn't you like to practice law here?

2009-07-02T08:46:00.000+02:00

The Jesuit Residence

Le Chevallier?

2009-07-02T08:31:00.000+02:00

Home to sisters of the Divine Master. Great name, huh?

Tropical Lourdes

St. Thomas from in front

2009-07-02T08:28:00.000+02:00

Now If only I could figure out what that peacock is all about. This one was in front of St. Thomas' tomb

Jesus and the peacock's at St. Thomas

Mary, always there to inculturate

St. Thomas Church

2009-07-01T09:24:00.000+02:00

the temple

The streets

Christ the king on the Loyola campus

What time is it?

2009-07-01T07:06:00.000+02:00

I don't know.. My watch was stolen

Blog 7/1

I experienced my first theft while traveling ever yesterday. That is certainly a pretty large claim given that I have spent almost 2 years of my life cumulativley traveling outside of the US. I have certainly lost many items before, mostly of no consequence, like hats, sunglassses, etc. I think i went through 9 different hats while traveling in africa. It was only when i got the most outrageous african looking hat I could find that I was able to somehow hold on to it. Even beginning this trip, i lost my wallet in a park in the UK. Thank god someone had turned it in to the tube station, though not before i canceled one of my debit cards.
Yesterday however, someone stole my watch! Really, of all the things they could steal, they stole the one of least consequence. I bought that watch on the internet 2 years ago for $10 as a back up watch in case someone stole my first one when i was traveling in Africa. The first one eventually lost the night time light, so I traded it (with full disclosure of its problems) for a pair of stinky (made of goat skin, probably tanned with urine) sandals and a wallet. I didn't know the items were strange smelling, and it caused me great concern when I noticed that my foot, which was full of open blisters started smelling. I thought i had developed gangrene! Instead I was a victim of fashion.
I can't place exactly when my watch was taken yesterday, but it may have been when i was in the market. I distinctly remember one of the vendors grabbing my arm to look at something, and me pulling it away rather brusqley. That is the height of all rudeness for me, even if I'm trying to be sensitive to ways and manners that are foreign to me. While that would be the obvious time for it to occure, it could have just as easily occured earlier walking through another market. I really have no idea as I don't remember when i first noticed it missing. That is probably the most disconcerting thing about theft like this, is the ambiguity of when and where the theft took place. It truly means being caught unawares.

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com

Thomas and Temples

2009-06-30T14:45:00.001+02:00

The last few days has been filled with forays into the wide world of India food, traffic, and religious sights and retreats into the (literally) quiet comfort of the Loyola campus where my explorations were done from a reading chair. Why go to India and read? India has a vast literary world, with many local publishing houses that makes printing cheap and affordable. As compared to across the continent of Africa, where a religion book store typical signifies evangelical self-help books that have been shipped (donated?) from america, here there is a definite local flavor to the libraries. I am doing my work at the Institute for the Dialogue of Cultures and Religions (…), essentially trying to get up to date on a theological world which is moslty only available in selections deemed viable for the Western world by publishing houses (thank God one such of them is Maryknoll, dedicated to making such literature available) or through secondary literature. My aim is not just to do research from an armchair, transplanted to India, and over the coming 8 weeks I will have a chance to visit ashrams where intra-religious work is done, inter-religious dialogues, and with theologians who are engaged in the work of dialogue.
My first venture out into the local neighborhood was on foot on friday (6/26) evening, in search of good indian food with a student I met from Pondicherry. While after a year of traveling in Africa, I tend to be suspicious of those who approach me on out of the blue on the street, this man approached me speaking french. He was a 1st year at the college and his french was impeccable. It was this shared interest of ours that I found absolutely disarming. I was not interesting to him because I was american or white, but instead because I was a fellow french speaker. Most students learning french at the college level are encountering it for the first time. Pondicherry, known to some of it as the setting of the book The Life of Pi, is a former French Colony. There, Sherri studied french at the alliance Francaise, who reportedly does it properly. After meeting him, I felt an immediate sense of trust, and deciding to trust my intuition asked after his own dinner plans. We walked for almost more of a mile (mostly due to a wrong turn), and I am came to viscerally understand that the streets of chennai are built nor for people or pedestrians, but cars, buses, motos, and auto-rickshaws (3 wheeled taxis). The already narrow sidewalks are often filled with debri, downed powerlines (which were particularly unnerving at the time due to the recent rain), and market stands. Meanwhile, they also serve as the public urinal for drivers and pedestrians alike, adding one more smell to an already interesting bouquet of ordors that comprise of indias fleurs du mal.
One thing that has struck me walking around here in Chennai, is how absolutely ignored I am as a foreigner. This is a relative statement I am making compared to my experiences in Africa, where often I am part of the Mzungu zoo. I love the countries I have been able to visit in Africa, and the people indeed are very friendly, but there is a certain celebrity status that one gains there simply due to the color of one's skin. I don't know whether it is merely due to a culture that already identifies strict boundaries in the interpersonal, or a colonial history that both saw more foreigners here, and saw them out in a momentous and symbolic struggle for independence, or because I am in a large city or any combination of the above, but it remains, nevertheless, striking. That is not to say, however, that the autorickshaw still won't try to cheat you out of 75 rupies. A person does have to make a living.
On Saturday, I was invited to begin dining with the jesuits. This has simplified my life immensley as I not only don't have to go out seeking 3 meals a day, but I also have the joy of companionship as I meet the men who have dedicated their lives to religion here. It is amazing speaking with the jesuits and hearing all that they do. A number of them are professors here ranging from studies such as history, economics, education, and business, while an equal number of scholastics are studying such things as bio-technology, applied computers, social work, etc. I know this was typical once upon a time among the jesuits in the US, but it seemed that a number of the ones that I met while studying at Berkeley were leaving lives in such disciplines to begin a life a ministry in the parish. Then again, my experiences are also extremely limited.
At my first meal at the Jesuits, I met Johannes, a german volunteer who is in town just for the weekend before heading off to the town where he will teach english of all things. We took the opportunity of both being foreigners who have had little exposure to Chennai to set off and explore the wider Chennai. We negotiated with a rickshaw to head off to the church of San Thomas, where legend holds that the remains of St. Thomas are to be found. The church itself replaced another church that was in the same location in the 1800's and maintains the same Gothic style that Christ the King, the church on campus also has. The architectural anamolies evoke images of an earlier india under colonial power, where the church itself was a representative from abroad. I have not yet had the chance to see if modern churches here depart from this foreign norm. Like Santigo de Compostella and St Peters at Rome, this church lays claim to the bones of one of Jesus' own disciples and is a place of pilgrammage. Outside the city one can find the mount of San Thomas, where the same apostle was supposedly killed.
Following our visit of San Thoma, we set off for an altogether different religious experience, going to the temple of Mylar. Here the pantheon of deities of hinduism are gathered together where hindu devotees can make offerings and encounter the divine. I have to admit a certain hesitancy at my first encounter with such a foreign religion. While I have read the many accounts of the great deities all representing the various forms of the one formless deity, and even a plaque at the entrance to the temple explains to travelers that these are not anthropomorphic idols, but mere representations, encountering the ritual of a religion as practiced by its devotees is very different than being exposed to its texts. I know very well the same claim could be made of my own catholic tradition, with its strange rituals, but this first inter-religious exposure set me in a greater state of bewilderment as I reminisced my own earlier exposure to the popular tribal religion of Burkina Faso where I was present to animal sacrifices at the sacred streams. My desire to better understand beyond the texts this great religion pushes me to learn more, even as my initial encounter with this foreign religion set me amiss.
Meanwhile, my own research has had its own ups and downs as I met with Fr. Amaladoss, who told me that Inculturation was shelfed by the vatican some 20 years ago. Fortunatley, encountering his written works, I was able to better understand the nuances behind what he says, and saw developments of the notion of contextual theology that I found both enlightening and exciting. I will not bore you with these theological reflections, but I will impose on you a prayer, which I found very comforting as I encountered turbulent intellectual waters:

Patient Trust

Above all, trust in the slow work of God
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through
some stages of instability-
and that it may take a very long time

And so I think it is with you.
your ideas mature gradually-let them grow
let them shape themselves, without undue hast.
Don't try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances
acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete
Pierre Tielhard de Chardin SJ

Well enough from me! I hope all is well with you at home. I welcome your responses and comments, though I cannot promise any quick responses to emails!

Take care,
Michael Thomas Le Chevallier
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com
Loyola College, Chennai, India.

--
Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com

THOMAS AND TEMPLES

2009-06-29T10:45:00.001+02:00

2009-06-29T10:36:00.001+02:00

cell phone number. this is valid for all of a week, so, synchronize your watches! 091 9790999111

nights are now air conditioned!

2009-06-27T10:10:00.001+02:00

I was reading an extract from a speech on a conference on violence and castes and a feminists was saying that due to the system of patriarchy most decisions are made by "the knife and the mustache." India is probably one of the few places in the world where the symbol of male domination is the mustache!

Michael Le Chevallier
MDiv candidate 2011
University of Chicago
mike.lechevallier@gmail.com