From time to time my readers send me clips of films that have some spiritual message. Here are a few that are directly related to stories from our Vedic heritage.

In general, Srila Prabhupada was interested in any medium that would take the messages of Bhagavad-gita and Srimad Bhagavatam to a greater audience. He was more reserved with regards to animated cartoons however, since he thought that they would not have the effect of the viewers actually understanding the reality of Krishna. ‘Cartoon’ means ‘unfinished painting’ and Srila Prabhupada stated that he wanted the paintings of Krishna and His incarnations to be as realistic as possible so that they would act as ‘windows to the spiritual world.’

Some people have tried hard with these, and apparently extensive research was involved in the Little Krishna that is soon to be shown on the Nickleodeon channel. I think the artwork  is significantly more real than non CGI cartoon images and I also feel that they may promote factual attraction for Krishna within children.

More information on Little Krishna can be had here: LITTLE KRISHNA

The Arjuna clip reveals – to those who’ve read The Mahabharata – that the story has been changed to accomodate greater dramatic effect. Still, people may be stimulated to enquire further and to read the original stories, now translated into almost 100 different languages by the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust. See what you think:

Trafalgar Square – right in the heart of London – is one place where pretty much any group can be given permission to assemble and speak freely. It has been used to stage assemblies of celebration, or demonstrations of protest, for many years. Britain upholds the right of its citizens to express themselves publicly, whether individually or collectively – even though those views may be at variance with the prevailing culture or political colour.

So that is how, 41 years ago, a group of people wearing coloured bed sheets and sporting shaved heads and pigtails, were given permission to pull a fifty-foot wooden chariot through the streets to Trafalgar Square. Once there, they sang and danced and gave out plates of hot halava, much to the satisfaction of the large crowd of young people that had gathered.

Almost immediately they attracted the unfavourable glances of irate fundamentalist Christians who were shocked that bowing down to heathen idols with ’staring eyes’ and distribution of food offered to them could take place right in the heart of London. In a 1973 book entitled The Trumpet sounds for England a lengthy description is given by the author of how, in 1971, he began a letter writing campaign to get the festival stopped. No highly placed or influential person was spared. Thus members of the House of Lords, the television host and columnist Malcolm Muggeridge, and even Her Majesty the Queen, all were implored to ‘help keep Britain a Christian country.’

How times change. Over the years there have been many organised attempts by both Christians and Muslims to protest the festival on the day itself. Often not more than one or two angry zealots handing out leaflets from a table erected defiantly in the middle of the square (usually right in the middle of the festival tents) or shouting through a megaphone, their protests have been increasingly silenced by police, most recently using anti-incitement legislation.

How curious it is then, that the last few years have witnessed not Christian or Muslim protest, but Vaishnavas of different persuasions. This year, the square, in places, resembled that scene from Life of Brian where the numerous prophets of old Jerusalem are all trying to gather an audience for their particular philosophical point of view – some not very successfully.

Fundamentalism occurs in every spiritual or religious grouping and now it seems even the Vaishnavas are not immune. On one side of Trafalgar Square stood the earnest, bearded followers of Narayan Maharaja; on the other side the ‘Back to Prabhupada’ people. Neither spoke to each other – that would have kept them both busy, for their viewpoints are mutually opposed – but they seemed only concerned with approaching relatively new people.

Theologically speaking, they are somewhat similar. Both introduce vaguely impersonalist elements into Vaishnava theology, albeit so subtle you might miss it. On the one hand, the ritvik protagonists seek to identify Srila Prabhupada with the indwelling Paramatma; on the other, the followers of Narayana Maharaja seek to closely identify their leader with Srila Prabhupada. Each follows a line of logic that tends towards the depersonification of the ISKCON founder-acarya and the substitution of their own concept. No megaphones though, these days. Just nice colour printing and smiles.

And so, in its own way, ISKCON helps to preserve one of the stated aims of Trafalgar Square. The expression of free speech. Its not easy, though. It’s an exercise in tolerance. We spend thousands on the festival itself, and exert hundreds of devotional hours in organising and staging it. Devotees give up sleep and family time to volunteer their services for weeks beforehand. And on the day, others who have no organisations come along to help themselves to the fruits of others labour. But tolerance is a virtue – isn’t it?

London Rathayatra begins in Hyde Park

Another brilliant London Rathayatra yesterday. Weather was perfect: heavy rain to wash the streets the previous day, then a hot day with plenty of sunshine with just enough cloud and light drizzle to stop the devotees melting.

I was again lucky enough – and it is always a privilege – to lead the front kirtan for Balarama from the beginning of Picadilly Street down the hill and up again to the Ritz Hotel. It’s at that point that you can look back and observe a sheer river of devotional humanity stretching out for maybe half a mile. Always an impressive sight and an annual witness to just how many people take pleasure in this ancient festival.

The chariot festival is a occasion for everyone. The very nature of the event is inclusive, as it takes God out of His temple to all those who may not see Him year round. Those who pull the ropes are said to gain eternal blessings.

Yesterday was also Hera Panchami, a day celebrated at the original Jagannatha temple in Orissa, eastern India. During that public festival, Lakshmi, the eternal consort of the Lord, comes out of the Jagannatha temple, and processes down the city’s grand road to the Gundicha temple where Jagannatha has been residing for one week. Her attendants demand that the priests of Jagannatha make immediate arrangements for His return, since He has been away from home for a long time.

It is at this point that a light-hearted theatre begins. Jagannatha’s priests are forcibly brought out into the crowd and made to pay obeisance to the priests of Lakshmi, since it is they who are responsible for separating God and Goddess. After being humiliated publicly, the priests hurriedly make arrangements for the return of Jagannatha. Thus the entire traditional festival takes one week.

No such extended festivities for us yesterday. Westminster City Council gives us from 9.00 am to 5.00 pm to set everything up in Trafalgar Square and to pack everything away again, and to keep the decibels down. And to make sure that all Health and Safety measures are enacted throughout. And, as helpful as the police are in blocking off traffic through central London, we are still only given around two and a half hours for the chariot procession. Still, that’s long enough for thousands of people to have a great street party, for hundreds more to be introduced to Krishna for the very first time, and for 15,000 plates of blessed vegetarian food to be handed out.

And to bring us from ancient days into the 21st century, yesterday’s festival was the very first to be broadcast live online. Viewers all over the world could watch it, and hear it, as it took place. All courtesy of www.iskconlive.com.

If you missed London Rathayatra, you might like to add your very welcome presence to the festival when it takes place in Paris on the 5th of July. Smaller crowds, one chariot, but the same enjoyment for all.

Krishna and Radha in Tuscany’s Villa Vrindavan

Spiritual retreats offer a precious opportunity to suspend the working life for a while in order to rest and become a little more introspective. For those already on a spiritual path its a time of re dedication and strengthening. Perhaps it may also involve looking at existing spiritual practises from new angles and seeing how they can be better understood or how commitment to them can be refreshed.

While I was in Italy my eldest daughter was on a spiritual retreat in our centre in Belgium. The focus was japa, the daily meditation on the holy names of God practised by Vaishnavas. She found a whole week dedicated to it very helpful, including as it did one whole day of complete silence except for the chanting of 64 rounds. She experienced so much on that day that she completed 69 rounds. So Dad is quite proud of her.

British ladies having fun in the sun: Gail, Mina, Clare, Maggie

Our week in Italy was a little different. I didn’t know who was coming or their level of practise. We’d emailed around 2,000 of our members, ranging from those who’d only just discovered Krishna consciousness through to experienced initiates. So the retreat could not be easily arranged to suit all tastes. Besides, we’d also thought that it might just be nice to have a chance for vaishnavas to go on holiday together. Just being in devotee company in warm weather with plenty of chance to talk can work wonders. So in truth, Vaishnava Summer Holiday might have been a better title!

Each day began with kirtans and classes in the marble-clad temple. On the altar, the deities of Radha Vrajasundara were strikingly beautiful. After a healthy breakfast taken on the terrace in the sunshine, peacocks strutting around colourfully, it was time for groups to either serve in the kitchen or take the bus into nearby Florence or to other towns. There is a lot to see. As black taxi cabs are to London, so 15th century religious art is to Florence. There were churches everywhere – and each one is a virtual art gallery.

Saint Francis preaching to the birds

During my week I got a chance to catch up on some much-needed lectio divina (spiritual study) and also went with different groups to San Gimiano one day, and up to the region of Umbria, to Assisi later in the week. I have wanted to visit the place of Saint Francis for some time and I wasn’t disappointed. We visited the small chapel he built with his own hands and then moved up the hill into the mediaeval town to visit his final resting place. For me it was interesting how his life and his cult closely parallels that of our Vaishnava saints. His shoes, tunic, writing, and hair shirt are all on display for the faithful to venerate – rather like in the samadhis of India.

There’s no reason, of course, why the life of one atmarama from one part of the world should not resemble that of another. Transcendence manifests itself within the soul quite uniformly and changes neither because of history nor geography. The fact that one saint speaks in Italian and the other in Tamil does not matter at all. The theology that each holds to in order to explain their experiences may differ, that’s a fact, and it may support or deny others the chance to experience transcendence in a similar way. Thinking these thoughts as I came out of the chapel in Assisi, I got into some impromptu interfaith discussion with two young Franciscan monks. They were very amiable and were as intrigued with my dress and lifestyle as I was with theirs. We felt we understood each other.

Vaishnava-Franciscan interfaith meeting on the street in Assisi, Pandu Das translates

Generally speaking, I have found that I can walk anywhere in Italy in my traditional Vaishnava dress without it being considered unusual. Whilst I’m used to that in London – where most people know us – it’s not always like that in other places in England. In Italy though, people seem quite used to religious garb, and assume I must be a member of some brotherhood they’ve not yet heard of – which, of course, I am.

While in Florence I attended a Catholic mass service in the largest church in town, the Duomo. Everything was in English and I enjoyed the sermon given by the American priest. The week was dedicated to Corpus Christi and therefore the subject was the Last Supper. The priest said that just as the man who provided the ‘upper room’ where Jesus and his disciples could take their Passover meal, we must also make space – and time each day – for God, and invite him as a guest into our hearts. We are so absorbed in our day-to-day affairs, he explained, that we feel we cannot dedicate this time. But human life is unbalanced and devoid of joy if we don’t. Like small ants we feel that our tiny world is so important but we forget that we are being observed by God. Good messages for retreat-goers, I thought.

After the mass I emerged into the sunshine and began walking towards the pre-arranged meeting place for our evening harinam-sankirtan. All of us British and Italian devotees were to chant the Hare Krishna mantra through the streets of Florence. We sang and danced energetically and the reception of the public was wonderful. We must be in a thousand photo albums by now!

There’s probably nothing worse than having to listen to someone tell you about their holidays. How nice it was, how great the food was, and what a great time was had by all. You should have been there, they’ll say, knowing full well that you couldn’t. ‘You would have had a great time.’ Yes, I suppose I would have, you think.

But since both Martin and Jereme – my two regular readers – asked me to say something about my recent trip to Italy, I will. If you don’t want to read on – please click away now.

I’m not a man who chooses to go on solitary holidays. So there were 31 of us altogether. It was this years congregational retreat – the one we normally have at the Buckland Hall in Wales. We thought we’d try something different this year and so chose to hold the event at Villa Vrindavan in the Tuscan countryside just a 20-minute bus-ride outside Florence.

So here begin my gushing superlatives. I apologise, but I can’t help it. The place, the views, the weather, the food, the sights, the peacocks, the art, the friendly and superbly hospitable devotees – and did I mention the food?

Villa Vrindavan is a very appropriately named 16th century villa, all 120 rooms and 200 acres built and fashioned for pleasure and prestige by the powerful Machiavelli, he of  The Prince fame. By 1979, when the devotees took it over to use as a monastery, it was quite run down and in sore need of some loving care – and quite a few million Italian lira.

But the Hare Krishna movement was moving quite rapidly through Italy at that time. A national festival tour showcasing Vedic art, drama, philosophy and music, complete with feasting Italian style; almost nightly regional television publicity; and a lively national radio station Radio Krishna Centrale, all contributed to widespread public appeal and support. The necessary funds were raised and by 1984 a grand installation of Radha Krishna deities took place.

That was all of 25 years ago and, as a much younger man, I made the train journey with 200 other Vaishnavas across Europe to be part of the thousand-strong gathering and prana pratistha festival. Although the grand canvas marquee where that event took place is now tattered in places, the rest of the estate is just as magnificent as it ever was.

Now, looking after a palatial stately home built in the late 1500s, a place where even the great Leonardo da Vinci is said to have painted, is a tough job for anyone, let alone a group of unworldly Krishna devotees. But the special quality of devotees is their bhakti, their devotional service to Krishna, and that, being avowedly practical, turns philosophy into action. Devotees will labour at the painstaking restoration of a mediaeval building not because they love architecture – but because they love Krishna. And because they love Krishna they’ll do it for free.

The villa attracted many Vaishnava painters who formed an academy for producing the oil paintings for Srila Prabhupada’s Srimad Bhagavatam and Caitanya Caritamrita. Nearby Florence is, of course, the home of some of the most famous Italian artists of the Renaissance and the town is thus an inspiration to any artist, and particularly those who paint with a religious theme.

Now the devotees are busy promoting the place as a venue for selected yoga groups and a place for international Vaishnavas to go on retreat. They’ve got everything on their side. The terrace views of the surrounding hills, dotted with olive trees and vineyards, is pure holiday brochure stuff. And although I’m no expert, I would say that their home-cooking comes direct from heaven. Generous portions of fresh crusty bread, spinach-stuffed ravioli, olives with pasta, and hot pizza with specially thin crust all convinced our British contingent that we’d come to the right place this year!

But didn’t I say this was our annual spiritual retreat? Doesn’t all this enjoyment get in the way of spiritual pursuits? Well, not really. All the food is offered to Krishna of course, making it sanctified, and each day begins with four hours of healthy meditation, kirtan, philosophy readings, class and discussion – all before breakfast. What a combination. I’ll say more about what we got up to after breakfast tomorrow.

You can have a look at Villa Vrindavan by going to: http://www.villavrindavana.net/ or by clicking RIGHT HERE

My apologies to readers who used to read my posts regularly. I was away, and now I’m at meetings for a few days, and will next week be away again, this time in Italy.

It might be a good time to read other posts by all my friends who are listed on the sidebar of my site. Better still, you can use the extra time gained for chanting the beautiful Hare Krishna mantra. Hare Krishna!

My best wishes to Archbishop Vincent Nichols as he becomes the 11th Catholic Archbishop of Westminster this morning. As this picture of him speaking before the large throne at Westminster Cathedral seems to suggest, the position comes with enormous responsibilities.

He’ll have the job of helping the members of his church move forward in mutual understanding with the Church of England.

He’ll need to clarify and represent many theological issues that are at odds with conventional wisdom.

He’ll have to pray for a way through the crisis over priests wanting to marry and falling numbers wishing to take vocations.

He’ll need prayers said for him as he champions the cause of the unborn babies in a country which tops the abortion and teenage pregnancy lists.

He’ll need strength to preach strongly in a country where faith itself is often seen as a psychological weakness.

And he’ll need to cope with the vicissitudes of the Catholic Church as it collectively reels from the effects of the actions of some of it’s members.

I sympathise with all of the above and I wish him well. May our mutual God, who is praised with a thousand names, kindly give him strength.

The Charge of the Light Brigade. Following orders may lead to triumph or failure, but it remains an inviolable principle of discipline

I was waiting at the arrivals area of Heathrow Terminal 3 this afternoon when I got talking to a man who had served many years in the Royal Navy. He’d been on the nuclear submarine HMS Conqueror back in 1982 during the Falklands War. It was he and his crew that sunk the Argentinian battleship, the General Belgrano, at a cost of some 323 lives.

When I asked him how he felt about that afterwards, he replied that in the forces ‘you don’t question, you just carry out orders.’ What he meant was that the responsibility for what was the deadliest act of that war, and one of the most controversial military actions for many years, was firmly on the shoulders of his superiors.

While he had not been troubled by such a loss of life in the course of war, he said, some of his friends had – for years after the event. They had suffered tremendously from guilt and experienced poor mental health as a result.

Later on, I heard another voice telling of another war. Quite a remarkable voice it was too. It was part of a radio programme in which Andrew Motion, the UK poet laureate, described how he had used his tenure to create a poetry archive, with recordings of British poets of past and present reading their own poems. The poet’s voice which I found so remarkable was that of Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

In a crackly recording, perhaps one of the first ever made, Lord Tennyson was reading his poem The Charge of the Light Brigade which described a courageous yet tragic British cavalry charge during the Crimean War in 1854. Like everyone else, Tennyson heard the news three weeks after the event and wrote his enduring poem within a few minutes. What struck me was the fact that his voice had been recorded at all, that he spoke in a broad regional (Lincolnshire) accent, and that here was a voice from another world in another time: before the tragedy of the Boer War, and the two World Wars which would claim millions of lives.

Both voices set me thinking about the nature of discipline. Those who serve their country as fighters are expected to follow orders; there can be no independent thinking on the battlefield. The entire force must move and think as one. That state of responsiveness can only be achieved by a strct adherence to discipline. The order comes down from one’s superior and the order is carried out. It is not a polite request, not a serving suggestion or a departmental recommendation – it’s an order. When the day is won, then that militaristic discipline – not to reason why, just to do and die – is praised as being the secret of success. Yet when the battle has been lost the very same uncritical thinking is often held up as a reason for the failure. Therefore the quality of leadership is all important.

The leader of Hare Krishna movement, His Divine Grace A.C.Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, stated that his movement should be run with ‘militaristic discipline’ and for the most part his followers gave him that. The traditional ashram of the guru is run in that way: the guru orders and the disciple carries out the guru’s orders as his life and soul.

Such levels of personal trust in, and dedication to, the order of the guru must, however, be accompanied by an equivalent level of clear-thinking, courageous yet compassionate leadership. Only then will both leader and follower prosper. The rapid success of the Hare Krishna movement under the direct guidance of its founder 1966-1977 is often compared to the mixed fortunes which occurred in 1986-1997 when leadership was not uniformly courageous or compassionate.

Yet a spiritual movement can only really survive and grow if the dynamic of discipline to the order of one’s superior is preserved. Notwithstanding the troubles that the principle may sometimes cause, and the embarrassment and recrimination when faulty decisions are analysed post-mortem, the principle of following orders is as important in a spiritual organisation as it is in the military. Anything less and the spiritual movement becomes somewhat flabby and ineffective.

Srila Prabhupada remarked on the qualities needed for leadership within ISKCON: “The courage of a British army officer and the heart of a Bengali mother.” Rather than being irreconcilable opposites, each of these qualities balance the other, so that a spiritual leader can not only order, but remains always concerned for the ultimate welfare of those in his charge.

Germany was good. Well, the Narasimha Festival was good, great even, attracting around 350 devotees from Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic. And a few hardy souls from the British Isles.

This year I took my son Mali, 12, and he enjoyed it very much. It rained most of the time, so we felt quite at home there, and Mali got up early every morning and stoically fasted all day on the caturdasi. And he wore his white cotton dhoti most of the time, thereby scoring maximum points on the pilgrim-ometer.

Mali hasn’t been on a plane very much at all since he was a baby, so for him to be flying above the clouds was a real novelty. He was fascinated and thrilled by it. He said he couldn’t remember our family trip to India, but it was when he was four, so no surprise. The thrill of flying will, I expect, be linked in his mind with travelling to a religious festival which can only be a good thing. When doing things for spiritual progress is made fun, such things get done again and again, and that’s good for the soul. It’s specially important for children that religion is fun. Parents have to practise the Mary Poppins Principle:

For every job that must be done, there is an element of fun, you find the fun and…SNAP!…the job’s a game! (Cue Julie Andrews singing Spoonful of Sugar)

Not that religion is a job, but it’s not always children’s idea of fun either.

However, on the Vaishnava path I would venture to say that if you approach it in the right way, it’s all fun – even the physically challenging stuff like fasting. Srila Prabhupada said that Krishna consciousness was ‘recreation’ since most of the time it simply involves singing, dancing, feasting, theatre, painting – and a little philosophy from time to time.

That’s why I can confidently take my 12 year-old to a major religious event knowing full well that he’ll have a good time. Highlights for him were a childrens play about Nrsimhadeva all spoken in German (something new for him), the 3 hours long abhisheka (ceremonial bathing of the Deity) which featured some items that made him smile – such as the Deity being completely covered in bananas!

Another highlight – curiously enough – was the four hours that father and son took to make up just a small dish of sandalwood paste. We sat peacefully together in a small room surrounded by small household deities of Narasimha and countless shaligram-shilas brought there by what seemed like all of Germany’s brahmanas. Taking a piece of sandalwood about eight inches long (or whatever the German metric equivalent is) and rubbing it on a large, flat circular stone, adding rosewater, camphor crystals and saffron, was a task guaranteed to help a person experience eternity. Only a few drops of precious sandal paste was created after many minutes of rubbing.

Yet far from being a hellish torment, this was devotional service, bhakti, and we both knew that this fragrant yellowish paste was going to applied to the black body of Narasimha the following day. And that somehow, by this simple act of devotion, God might be pleased. Certainly father and son came out of that small room smiling.

And we smiled the next day when we sang in kirtan and Dad tried to jump around like the twenty-somethings, and we smiled when Dad got splashed all over with bright yellow turmeric water while bathing the Lord on the altar. And then we smiled on the last day when the sun finally shone but it was time to come home. We might have missed that evening’s torchlight procession with fireworks but it was more than enough fun for four days.

My grateful thanks to Gail Staveacre of UK and Manoj Kumar of Australia for kindly sponsoring a portion of the abhisheka.

Here are some pictures:

The evening before the main festival, the Deity’s body is covered with 108 coloured silken ropes. This is known as Pavitra-Puja

Yellow turmeric, a leafy garland of forest flowers, lemons, and garlands of German doughnuts

The ‘Butter Outfit’ with dried fruit decorations: figs, dates, prunes, and apricots

Dear Readers, you may like to enter into the spirit of the Narasimha season this year and gain blessings by taking part in a special ceremony for the pleasure of the Deity on the festival day.

The Simhacalam temple in Bavaria, Germany is completely dedicated to Sri Nrsimhadeva and His dear devotee Sri Prahlada. This temple is completely maintained year-round by the kindness of devotees. It is the only exclusively Narasimha temple outside India and surely deserves our support.

This year a special Maha Puja will be conducted in which 32 copper kalash pots of fruit juices, herb water and milk, ghee, honey, yoghurt and other substances will be used to bathe the Lord in a grand abhisekham. Thirty-two forms of Narasimha will be installed within these pots.

By sponsoring a kalash you can reap the immense spiritual benefits of performing devotional service to Nrsimhadeva. Protection in spiritual life and the removal of personal obstacles is also granted by Narasimha so the rewards of taking part in this are immense. As the vow (sankalpa) for the ceremony is read out, your name – or family name – will be announced. You can sponsor a kalash for 108 Euros (or a heartfelt donation of your choice) and afterwards the copper pot will be posted to you. The pot is inscribed with the name of the festival Narasimha Caturdasi 2009 and afterwards can be used for your own puja at home.

May Sri-Sri Prahlada-Narasimha give you all blessings for even considering this great service.

You can contact the temple head in Germany, whose name is Vedanta-Krit Das by writing here: vedanta-krit@narasimha.de