(I owe my secular, liberal view of life entirely to my life in my alma maters, Good Shepherd Convent, Mysore, Bishop Cotton's School, Bangalore, Cathedral and John Connon Boys' High School, Bombay and St. Stephen's College, Delhi.)
Today is Good Friday. The Finnish way of calling it is “Long Friday”, reflecting the long hours of suffering of Christ on this day of his crucifixion
This day demonstrates the vast cultural differences that may exist even in one family.
My father, from the house of Maliyakal, was brought up in the Anglican Church traditions, which was later to become part of the Church of India. The celebration of Good Friday is one which is sombre. First Church-going for the early morning service, usually 7 am. Back home and then again to church for the three hour service starting at midday. This service recreates in biblical words and music Christ’s journey to the Cross with a great deal of sorrowful expressions that are quietly demonstrated by the congregation. This atmosphere of sadness and sorrow is continued in all public and personal activities till Easter morning. Then there is joyous greetings all around from the moment one is in the church premises. There is a great degree of sincerity that is shared on this their joyous day of te Lord's resurrection after two days of mourning.
My mother, from the Kandathil family, had her roots in the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church (Jacobite) traditions. Here, the church service on Good Friday was one of personal sacrifice and suffering with a 9 hour service where one was kept in constant prayer by the priests. The major part of the service is still in the Syriac language.
Then it would be time to go home and eat a very sparse meal of rice water (kanji) and boiled beans (paiyara) with some spicy pickle to give the tasteless food just enough tang to be able to consume it. This would be also followed by a sad and sombre general atmosphere of mourning till Easter morning, when there would be joyous scenes, considerably more restrained than in the Protestant Churches.
As a child, I went through both of these, on some years one pattern dominating. But the Easter celebrations would always be in the Anglican traditions and this would be followed by a sumptuous meal so that we could break the 40 days of fasting, which was not really fasting but giving up eating of foodstuffs we really liked. The money saved would be given to some charity.
When I grew up and got married, the marriage was in the St. Mary’s Church in Shrewsbury. Annikki being an Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) by upbringing did not have strong views on many things except about keeping the Sabbath (Saturday) and about child baptism, which is not followed by the SDA Church. Baptism in the SDA was something that one undertook when one understood one’s commitment to Christ. In fact, Annikki, although a deeply devout Christian, was only baptised as late as 1984 when she was 40 years old!!
Soon, in 1967, our first baby, Susanna, arrived. The local priest, who had married us, on hearing of the arrival of our daughter asked me to visit him, as his house was just a few metres away from our flat. There, one evening, he talked at great length about Anglican church traditions and then started to lecture me about the importance of child baptism. Then, during his ranting, he went on to say that if I did not get Susanna baptised and she died, then I would not be able to bury her in the church graveyard.
This really got my goat. I departed from there promising to myself that I would no longer be a member of any organised church. Christ was something personal to me and I did not need the use of a burial ground to show where my faith lay.
So none of our children were baptised in any church before their age of maturity. We did not ever take them to church on Saturdays or Sundays. Sometimes they would accompany my parents to church. Sometimes one of them would go with Annikki to her SDA Church.
There was never any pressure ever put on any of our children that they should follow any principles that we laid down as far as religious observance was concerned.
It was my personal opinion that neither Annikki or I would pressurise our children to make any choices about their religious choices till they themselves were mature to make that decision themselves. They were, however, exposed to some of the scriptures in their school.
What I did was live, as far as possible, an exemplary life so that the values that the children saw were real values and not those that were lectured to from pulpits. I may have been wrong on many things, but I was willing to say when I did wrong, but I would never admit to doing wrong when I knew what I was doing was right in my God’s eyes.
And if we saw people doing something wrong, it was our responsibility to inform our children of our opinion of the events. But the decision about deciding what was right and wrong was to be solely theirs. There was never any telling them that they should do this or that, except what was necessary by the rules of their schools or the laws governing the society they lived in.
In my childhood in Bombay, as I was in the church choir, I had to go church twice on Sundays, morning and evening. I listened to no less than 300 lengthy sermons from the pulpit. Some were by Bishops, others by Archdeacons, some by priests and many by lay persons. I would sit in the front row, just under the pulpit listening to these beautiful words being pronounced from above me.
Do I remember the contents or message contained in even a single one of these sermons?
The answer is no!!
The principles that I imbibed were from the characters of all my friends in school, most of them non-Christians. I learnt about secularity and equality and about all the different religions. I learnt that all religions, Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Sikhism, Sindhi-ism, Parsi-ism, had one common flavour that one should not hurt anyone in a manner that you would not expect anyone to hurt you.
I learnt from my school and college friends that if anyone does evil to you, just turn your back on them and forget they exist. I learnt that it was not worth wasting one’s precious time and years on this planet chasing after people who are liars and cheats, as nothing I could do was going to make them change their evil ways. They are what they are and I knew they will get their just reward at the right time at the right place.
I spoke with my mother several times about this. She always agreed that my view was more Christian than any others she knew. She knew that I had passed through the very narrow gate called death and had been brought back to life as a gift to me. She knew that because of that experience I had a different view to life than any other of her children.
God had intervened and given me back my life from the jaws of death. She knew that because of my personal experience I was far more committed to religion and life than any others. She knew I did not fear death any more. She knew that I would live my life in truth and not as a hypocrite like many who merely claim from the mountain tops that they are Christians.
My mother never once questioned me about my church going or lack of it, although she felt very proud when I did go with her to church on a few occasions. She treated all my friends of so many different faiths with equal love and affection and as her own children. She knew, above all, that my strength in life was my friends who had seen what I had been through when I was drowning in Vasind.
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