namahatta.org - Congregational Development Ministry

It is Tuesday afternoon and a day of rest. Peace and quiet reign beneficently over the Philadelphia temple as we recover from the hubbub of the holiday weekend. In this case the original meaning of "holiday" actually applies: "holy day." For us, the holiday is the day we work the hardest. Since our hard work is exclusively for the pleasure of the Lord, however, it produces no karma. (In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna defines karma as work that generates future material bodies.) In this case, then, our karma-less holiday is a foretaste of the permanent vacation from mrityu-samsara, the treadmill of birth and death in the world.

Ali Asalim Air Base, Kuwait

 I am sitting in Kuwait at the moment, having finished fifeteen months in combat, the time I have here is a very slow pace. The operational tempo I am use to is slowing down, making more time in my life for devotional activities.

We arrived at 0400 hrs and were processed. Afterwards I wanted to stay awake for the long flight, but there was a problem—our plane was broken down in the States.  Oh well, I thought, let me go and walk around.

Mother Mitravinda is also a soldier, she joined the Army some time ago and has made the transition to her first assignment. Below is a letter she sent today about some preaching she is doing.

"...Sitting there in the motor pool I was able to give a book report and tell of the pastimes of Gajendra. The soldiers were so excited that i called BBT and ordered more books, I was low and need to stock up again."

Today is Rupa Goswami's disappearance day. It was also the day of the last program in Iraq. This program was with the Indian-bodied contract workers here on the base. While going over material to discuss during the class it made perfect sense to speak about the pastimes of this pure soul, Srila Rupa Goswami. ...

But to my amazement more people kept coming, and more and more! When the program started the place was packed, there was no sitting room. I made a remark that all of Mosul is in there, and one man said "Prabhu, this is the last program, everyone is here because we don't know if a devotee will ever be in Mosul again."

I was approached by one officer in my Squadron, she wanted to relay a story about an event that happen to her lately. She told me she was at headquarters and two senior sergeants were standing at the smart box that is set up in the little recreation center, holding two books. She said oh, great those books again.

They asked her, "Ma'am, do you know what these books about?" She said "Yes, I do. They are from Sergeant Sonnenberg."

I received an email from HG Ratna Bhusana Prabhu, seems there was another soldier in Iraq reaching out for Krishna. When i opened the mail and saw the name I realized I knew this guy. Bhakta Andrew is a friend of mine that I met after a tour in Iraq. We met at a skatepark in Germany and became friends. He was already a vegetarian and over time became favorable to Krishna consciousness.  He received a Bhagavad-gita from me and read it, then left to the States for his next assignment.

The ashram is officaly closed, because we have to make room for our replacments; I had to move in with another senior leader in my unit. Before I moved I asked my detachment sergeant if I could have one more day to do a last morning program.

I sent out the invitations, and in the morning of the program set up a book table and made a small feast. I woke up extra early, woke the Lords, and started chanting my rounds.

My first connection with the Hare Krishna maha-mantra happened during the "Summer of Love" in August, 1967 in the course of a wedding within a three-room apartment in Powelton Village, the budding hippie district in Philadelphia. The wedding epitomized the time and place.

The groom and I had become close friends during our travails as fellow philosophy majors at the nearby University of Pennsylvania. Thin, angular, his pale beak-nosed face densely hedged with a curly black beard, Steve presented "the Jew" with a delicious hint of self-parody. His bride Catherine was black and beautiful and very pregnant. Behind the altar—a massive wooden table, knobby legged and claw-footed—a goateed United Church of Christ minister of progressive views officiated. As recitations from the Tibetan Book of the Dead and the Tao Te Ching sounded out, a mottled cat manifested itself on the altar and began weaving balletically through a maze of objets, sacred and profane.

This article was originally published in Back to Godhead magazine in 1993. Edifying hyperlinks added.

The heroes of my youth were the great healers of humanity. While it's true that in those days I could be seen with other American boys paying homage to the likes of Elvis Presley and Joe DiMaggio, I rendered them only lip service. My real—if somewhat secret—devotion was reserved for a pantheon of great medical pioneers like William Jenner, discoverer of the smallpox vaccination; Robert Koch, who identified the tuberculosis bacillus; and Ignaz Philipp Semmelweise, who crusaded to save women from childbirth infection by teaching doctors to disinfect their hands. I avidly studied the life stories of these saviors and dreamed of becoming like them by slaying some modern scourge—leukemia, say, or coronary thrombosis. In my eyes there was no higher calling than to wage war on behalf of humanity against disease and death.

[Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.]

Many years ago, I was on a Hare Krishna farm. One day, while working in Krishna's kitchen, I learned that there were maha sweets kept in the big fridge over night. The next day, I told my friend and Godbrother about this and we began to plan a caper. It was so easy—we simply went down to the kitchen about 2 am and slid open the window on the side of the building. We went inside and grabbed the sweets out of the fridge. Oh, if you've ever had milk sweets made from Krishna's whole milk that were offered with love then you may understand. If not, I can only tell you they are wonderful! We couldn't imagine how anyone, especially a devotee, could leave them in a fridge over night. So we began to hit the place about every couple of weeks. We felt not to would be offensive!

It began with an answered phone in my office on an otherwise ordinary day in 1973. A woman addressed me in the distinctive vowels and consonants that revealed her to be a native of Philadelphia—or “Fluffya,” as it’s called in the local dialect. She asked if I were the head person of the Hare Krishna temple. She pronounced “Hare” as “hair.”

“Ha-ray Krishna temple,” I responded. “Yes, I am.” “Are you,” she continued, “a priest, minister, or rabbi of your religion?” She had a raspy smoker’s voice. “A priest,” I affirmed.

“OK, then. I’m calling you from the Philadelphia City Council, office of Councilman Kelly.” She paused while a phlegmy cough made its way up her bronchial tubes. “The council,” she resumed, “meets every week in its chambers on Thursdays, at ten a.m. The meeting always opens with an invocation by a member of the clergy, and the council members are responsible for inviting a clergyman on a rotating basis. In two weeks it will be Councilman Kelly’s turn. He is offering to you the honor of giving the invocation. Will you accept?” “Yes, I’ll be happy to,” I answered right away. But I was mind-blown, flabbergasted, gob smacked.

I have found mys self thinking I'm too busy to serve krishna. I mean I chant my sixteen rounds every day, and the days I don't, I make up for them the very next day. I read Srila Prabupada's books regularly, wether it's ten minutes or two hours, there's always some time in the day to read a little.

The service I'm talking about is getting out there and spreading Krishna's names, pastimes, and glories to the rest of the world.

Hurricane season is nearly upon us. We in these disunited States have already endured a spring offensive of monstrous tornado-breeding thunderstorms, sweeping in waves eastward across the land. Depicted on the terrifying animated maps of the Weather Channel the storms resembled broad-fronted blitzkriegs on war charts. The channel treated us again and again to jumpy, rain-spotted videos that pan across jumbles of SUVs and pick-ups, crushed and flatten like beer cans after the bash, all nicely backdroped by heaps of gigantic splinters—the local shopping mall. One of these malls was less than fifteen miles from my mother's home in tidewater Virginia.

Lately I have been feeling spiritually frustrated.
I moved closer to the temple, and thus spend more time there, and less time out in the world distributing. I have been feeling sad and kind of dead inside.

I visited the Museum of Tolerance a couple weeks ago (an outing we went on at my place of employment). The lessons taught were valuable and heart touching. The museum showed examples in history in which outer bodily distinctions like race, religion, gender, culture, and handicaps turned people against each other, like in the holocaust and segregation in America. Spiritual life is one solution to such problems, because the goal of real spiritual life is to become free from bodily designations—to not see ourselves and others as black, white, male, Christian, Hindu, teacher, lawyer, etc. but to know and see the essence of each person as a spirit soul.

One thing that interreges me the most is the questions I sometimes get asked by devotees, some I must admit are a little frustrating and at times would rather not answer.

However at times the questioning makes you stop and look at things in a different light. The other day as I talked to Jayananda Swami he noted that I was well situated, a nice house, Job and car this allows me to travel great distances to visit devotees with great ease.

Krishna is really amazing!!! He arranges things so nicely. Tonight I was convinced that He is really there making things happen so magically!!!! We need just be instruments in His mission!!

Last night I met a lady at the grocery store, offered her a book, she said she had the Gita already and liked the Krishna vegetarian food. We spoke more and since she lives close by I told her I would bring her Krishna food some time, so she gave me her phone number and address. I promised to bring food soon.

There is always an opportunity to share with those we meet love of Krsna

The other day I was at home doing some research, I had been due to go to the Manor illness however prevented me. I also feel that cold calling is one of the hardest things to do, so answering my door to such a caller is very rare

“I Put Tilak on Grandma”
By Gauranga Kishore Das

Today, April 22, on the day that she predicated, at 8:11 AM Srimati Mitravinda Devi Dasi a beloved disciple of Srila Prabhupada, a kind friend to all, and dedicated servant Lord Caitanya and Lord Nityananda departed from this world to rejoin the eternal pastimes of her most beloved Radha-Syamsundara.

I feel very fortunate that I was blessed with a little of her association in the last couple of weeks of her earthly existence and for my own purification I would like to share a few of those experiences.

Today I went to a meditation retreat. It was nice. I was struggling for awhile because I was attempting to just do the breath method but then I decided to focus on Krishna's name and that morphed into me actually chanting in my head. It is hard to chant Hare Krishna with out moving your tongue or mouth but that made me really concentrate on the mantra. From then on the day went very quickly.

by Partha Sarathi das,
Iraq, 17 April 2008

Jump on the Godhead Express!

I'm back on missions, which means long days. But I am still continuing with programs. We were having a program when all of a sudden, we heard the incoming alerting system. The rocket impacted a 100 feet from the ashram. I directed everyone to run to the bunker. When everyone was out the door, I grabbed my Silas and my mrdanga and ran to the bunker. For those that have never experienced the bliss of going through a mortar or rocket attack, it is a waiting game. You sit in this little bunker waiting, sometimes it is only one rocket, sometimes five or six. So you're there for some time.

After two weeks of going AWOL my commanding officer General Vaisesika Prabhu court marshaled me and order me back to my post in San Jose to join the troops for our Monthly Sankirtana Festival, which begins Friday evening in downtown Palo Alto with nagar sankirtana, then book distribution on Saturday and Sunday.

Why is book distribution so glorious? Here are a few benefits:

On BD (book distribution) we interact on the level of soul to soul—we are talking about Krishna, glorifying Him, glorifying the spiritual master, and acting in a way that pleases the Lord—doing His work, His mission. Such interactrions with others satisfy the heart.

Krishna is on our team, and if we are smart, we will join His team—team harinama sankirtana.

Who wants to join this team?

I felt Krishna's hand in my work today. Felt like we were on a team—it was great!

I went to visit someone in the hospital—brought along a book and CD of Temple Bhajan Band.

I was never promiscuous... but no sex is safe sex. In efforts to put the past behind me and Krishna Consciousness in front of me I went to the clinic to get tested for STDs and HIV. I had never been tested before. I was pretty confident that I was "clean" but I wanted it on paper. I wanted a fresh start.