feedback sandwich

How do you tell someone what you like and dislike about their performance? The communication demigods suggest that you serve them a "feedback sandwich" -- tell them something you appreciate, then some room for improvement, and finally some more of what you appreciate (an excellent discussion of the sandwich, in the setting of a medical practice, can be found here.)

Since I've made a conscious effort to give feedback in this way, I've found it to be extremely effective. For one thing, it forces me to replace vague, superficial comments ("Oh prabhu, what a great Bhagavatam class!") with sincere, honest assessments of what I like and don't like. For another, it allows me to look at the negatives in light of the positives, and puts criticizing in a constructive context. And of course, if I can't come up with at least two things to appreciate about the person, it raises a red flag in my mind that I'm not thinking objectively -- and gives me an opportunity to slow down, cool off, and try to heal myself first.

Still, there are limitations. Recently a colleague told me that she has started to grow wary of the sandwich -- that when she hears my words of praise she starts to cringe in preparation of the impending criticism! Her telling me this was a sobering reminder to me that merely "buttering someone up" before and after you "give them the sauce" does not a sandwich make.

Here are some tips on how to make a better feedback sandwich:

• Feedback (positive or negative) should be directed towards a person's performance, not their character or personal. "You're pretty. You're an idiot. You're trustworthy." -- not a feedback sandwich.
  
• Avoid low-carb sandwiches. The positives are the bread and the negative is the peanut butter and jelly inside (what, you forgot that we're vegetarians?) -- don't just find praises to bookend a pile of complaints. An unbalanced sandwich is obvious.
  
• Be specific in both praise and criticism. "I really liked when you did XYZ..." "When you said so-and-so, I noticed that..." "I thought your use of such-and-such was..."
  
• Criticism especially should be constructive, well-timed, and targeted.
  
• Constructive criticism is clear, objective, and employs "I statements" rather than "You statements." It offers realistic alternatives or suggestions for improvement.
• Well-timed criticism is sensitive to the time, place, and situation. It is offered soon enough after the performance to be relevant, but not so soon after as to touch on something that this still "raw." It is given privately or publicly depending one whichever is more appropriate, and is often preceded by a "heads-up" that feedback is coming.
• Targeted criticism recognizes specific behaviors (not the people acting out the behaviors) and hones in on specific skills or practices that are within the person's control. It avoids using extreme phrases like "always" and "never."
  
• Praise should not flatter the ego, it should reinforce and encourage desired behavior. The recipient should walk away more educated about what worked, not just "feeling good."
• Use non-verbal communication to package the sandwich. Let your eyes and body language express your feelings. Dramatic pauses can go a long way. A softening of the voice can make that room-for-improvement easier to digest.
• Allow the recipient to respond -- feedback does not need to be a one-way street. If recipients feel the need to defend themselves or explain their actions, allow them to.
  
• Know when you need not (and maybe even should not) use the sandwich. There are situations where using the sandwich will feel (and be) inauthentic, contrived, or insulting. Use common sense.
  

Of course, the sandwich is just a tool -- how to make and serve it is still a matter of the chef's own spiritual and emotional maturity. Ultimately, if we want to effectively communicate with others (especially devotees) without committing offenses, we have to sincerely take shelter of Srimati Radharani. We have only to sincerely try; She will make sure that all the sandwiches coming out of Her kitchen are palatable, satisfying, and delicious.

Devotee Dress

A commenter on my personal blog raised an interesting question about the way devotees dress and present themselves at outreach events. The question and my response are below...

The question:
Good on you, Vyenkata Bhatta dasa and everyone who took part in the AIDS walk!
Looking at the photo above though, I can't see any devotees sporting sikha or wearing dhoti. Is it common now in ISKCON for members not to dress like ISKCON used to? I know it's a little shallow, and clothes do not maketh the man (or monk), but that's how I recognise the devotees of Krsna. Also didn't Prabhupada himself recommened dhoti, tilak and sikha for all devotees?

My response:
Thanks for your questions, Anonymous prabhu. As you will see from the photo essay in the next post, we had quite a diverse turn-out for the Walk - including our favorite monk, Gadadhara Pandit prabhu (aka NYC Pandit)in full-on saffron dhoti, shaved head and sikha.

In addition, some devotees do keep a sikha (like me) and some did have on tilak (like Yadunath prabhu). However other devotees choose to dress in Western clothes and keep conventional hairstyles.

I think one of the nicest things about representing Krishna consciousness at events like this is that we can help people to understand that devotees of Krishna are -- externally speaking -- not so different than they are. This can help others relate to us and approach the devotees.

I don't think that it is "common for members not to dress like ISKCON used to" per se, but I do feel that devotees tend to present themselves in a way that reflects who they are. In the 1960s and 1970s, most ISKCON devotees were monks and "nuns" -- brahmacaris, brahmacarinis, sannyasis, and "brahmacari-grihastas" who lived as monks did, cloistered from the mainstream society. Today, most ISKCON devotees live, work, and participate in the greater community around them. I think it is natural (and desirable) that some devotees should thus choose to dress and look like the general populace.

I am not aware of any instructions Srila Prabhupada gave insisting upon dhoti, tilak, and sikha for all members. I do remember reading that Prabhupada allowed his grhasta male devotees who were working outside the movement to keep short, contemporary hairstyles ("like a respectable gentleman") instead of a shaved head -- but no dressing like a hippie!

Hridayananda Goswami recently made an interesting point on this subject. He said that in Lord Caitanya's time, when devotees went out on harinama, they were dressed *the same way that everyone else was!* In other words, by wearing dhotis and chaddars, etc. they weren't weren't trying to stand out by their clothing -- they were perfectly fitting in. An interesting argument to try going out on harinama in contemporary clothes (or at least have devotees mix it up)...

Ultimately, I think you said it best: "The clothes do not maketh the man." For some devotees (especially the monks) dressing in traditional Indian garb may help them represent the tradition; for others, they may choose to represent Krishna by wearing Western clothes.

Personally, I'd like to see Hare Krishna devotees recognized -- regardless of what they are wearing -- by their exemplary behavior, compassion and humility, and genuine expressions of joy on their faces.

Hare Krishna!

Centralization what?

Recently, the leadership in ISKCON -- GBC members and temple presidents -- have been discussing ways of modifying the bylaws to ensure greater protection to ISKCON communities, and align ISKCON's structure more closely with Srila Prabhupada's will.

Perhaps not surprisingly, this has sparked off a slew of conspiracy theories and animated accusations from some who insist that the proposed modifications are part of a sinister GBC plot to take over the world (cue James Bond villain music). The evil secret weapon that these despots plan to use (if you believe the conspiracy theorists) has a name: centralization.

Srila Prabhupada famously disapproved of a centralization scheme envisioned by some of his disciples in the 1970s. "They tried then," the critics whisper over the internet, "and they're trying again..."

So what is the real deal?

GBC member, Temple President, and really, really smart devotee Ravindra-svarupa Prabhu presented a paper on the subject recently, and ISKCON News has it online.

I have been asked by the Executive Committee of the North American GBC and Temple Presidents to write you concerning issues raised by various web posting in response to a draft of proposed new bylaws for North American ISKCON temples. This draft had been circulated and discussed among us during our last meeting, held in January in Dallas. Soon after, the text somehow passed into general circulation, and a number of web posting sprang up to raise a general alarm.

“Our Whole Movement Could Be Killed,” warned Vyapaka Prabhu, in the title of a posting on the ritvik website Sampradaya Sun. He alleges that the bylaws disclose a sinister effort by the GBC “wherein every temple is effectively taken over by the GBC or their proxy.” Other writers join in with him to inveigh against what they say is an attempt of the GBC to establish total centralized control of all temples—precisely the kind that Srila Prabhupada himself explicitly forbade.

Now, say these outraged critics, the GBC, in flagrant violation of all the instructions Prabhupada has given, are reviving the errors of the past with an illicit gambit to disempower local devotees and seize total control.

I can state without equivocation that none of these charges is true. That the claims made in these postings could be accepted as true is, to me, heartbreaking testimony to the state of fragmentation and isolation among devotees who ought to be unified in Srila Prabhupada’s service. The postings also attest to the distressing degree to which ISKCON’s own history has become hazy, distorted or lost in memory.

I shall try to clear up various areas of misunderstanding and forgetfulness, and by doing so, show why the current effort to revise the North American bylaws follows Srila Prabhupada’s will...

read Ravindra-svarupa Prabhu's whole paper here, at ISKCON News.

Krishna Cares

On Sunday, a team of devotees from the New York/New Jersey area participated in the AIDS Walk 2007 in New York City. The event drew over 55,000 people and the devotee team -- called Krishna Cares -- was there to participate, support a great cause, and share the Holy Names with them.

Krishna Cares is a devotee project that aims to build bridges with those involved in grassroots and community activism, and to help devotees who are interested in participating in social activism in the association of other Vaisnavas.

Here is something I wrote on our participation in the Walk...


Thanks to a delay on the F train, we are running late. By the time we arrive at Central Park, the crowds are swelling -- we started to see people wearing AIDS Walk NY t-shirts even on the train -- and I worry that we won't be able t0 find the rest of our team. My apprehension is unnecessary: our teammates are already wearing their bright orange Krishna Cares t-shirts, and are pretty hard to miss even in this crowd. With only a few minutes before the walk is to begin, Krsangi and I quickly transform into orange people as well.

We start to walk, except this walking is more like allowing yourself to be moved along in a tidal wave of bodies . The experience feels like a cross between a Ratha Yatra and Disney World the day a new ride opens. But soon the walkers are giving each other space, and everyone is going at whatever pace they feel comfortable with.

I feel a buzz seeing my devotee friends walking alongside (and in front of and behind) me -- unified in purpose and garb, the black letters against the orange fabric unabashedly spelling out "Krishna Cares" and "Hare Krishna - chant and be happy." The buzz blossoms into a thrill when AIDS Walk volunteers start to cheer us on by shouting out our team name and flashing us the "raise the roof" mudra. "Krishna cares!" they shout, and suddenly its not just our team-name; its a declaration that the Supreme Lord really does care for all of His children.

We walk-- some chanting on beads, others engaged in light conversations. At the head of our party, Ari happily bounces and bobs about while carrying a beautiful "Krishna Cares" sign. He looks like he will hardly break a sweat during the 6 mile walk, and I appreciate (and envy) his enthusiasm.

I originally thought it'd be nice for us to just walk like everyone else and not "demand" special attention by doing kirtan. But after walking like this for some time, I begin to grow tired of just shuffling along, and experience a need to chant the Holy Names. Its not an artificial, calculated, ploy; it is a real desire to chant and I start to feel it from the pit of my stomach. Apparently, others do too, and so we quickly devise a plan. Since none of us thought to bring instruments, our only musical accompaniment is the clapping of our hands. We try chanting a basic melody in unison. Our voices are loud but unsure, slightly off-key but brimming with sincerity.

We chant a few collective refrains and then fade out, resigned that there isn't much we can do without mrdangas and kartals. But then Geeta suggests a different tune. It is a well-known melody, one that the late Bhakti Tirtha Swami loved to use. In fact, as we spread the word through our team we refer to it that way: "Hey, lets try doing the Bhakti Tirtha Swami tune." I am still doubtful, and tell Geeta as much; she is undaunted, though, and -- surprising us all -- agrees to lead (with a little help from Krsangi and Nisha).

"Hare!" Hare...
"Krishna!" Krishna...

The energy is building; I shake off my doubts and start to smile. Our voices are stronger, and the walkers around us react positively-- some giggle, some cheer, some offer us a thumbs-up gesture. Now I am grinning, ear to ear, running in front of the group to walk backwards and snap photos. Ari is leaping in the air, the sign in his hand not weighing him down in the least. Pradyumna is chanting like an army drill sergeant, dovetailing his frat-house-honed energy in the service of the Holy Name. Nancy claps along, her small gold crucifix resting against the picture of flute-playing Krishna on her blazing orange t-shirt.

At a traffic light now; Geeta is in full force and I am positively giddy. A group of teenage walkers -- two Hispanic guys, a lanky Black girl, a sun-burnt blond -- seem drawn to the chanting, repeating the words as best they hear them. Pradyumna and I help them to listen and follow along, and after a few refrains, I ask the blond girl to lead. She is happy to oblige while her friends cheer her on as if she were on stage at a karaoke bar. Later, another teenage girl sends us a smile (her braces reflecting the sun's rays) and asks me to explain the significance of the mantra while she shoots some video on her camera phone. I tell her that it is a prayer to God, the all-attractive Lord of us all, to please engage us in His service. She likes the answer, and after a thoughtful pause she asks "So, you're helping people become spiritually empowered?" Haribol!

The streets are all blurring into one, the skyscrapers we pass indistinguishable from one another. I am vaguely aware of a soreness in my calves and a callous on the sole of my foot. Still, the Holy Name and the devotees walking along keep me going and I get my second (third?) wind. We are marching along the West side, when temptation strikes: an ice cream vendor is handing out freebies. Our kirtan troop collapses under the weight of the pressure, but soon enough we recover -- many of our soldiers now with a cup of sherbert in hand.

We switch up the tune again and keep chanting. Seeing the energy level dropping a bit, I turn my empty water bottle into a make-believe microphone and invite different devotees to sing into the mic. It is a silly gag, but seems to work in lifting morale. Ari leaps. Pandit twirls. Nicole and her mom are beaming.

"Krishna cares!" volunteers with bullhorns call out approvingly. The walkers, volunteers, and even the passing cars are all happy to see us and appreciate our enthusiasm. For them, we are ambassadors of spirituality and good energy. I think of what the girl with the camera phone said -- helping people become spiritually empowered -- and feel tinges of guilt for having doubted the potency of the Holy Name.

We snake our way back into Central Park and find ourselves before an archway made of balloons. This is it. To go under it is to complete the walk, to succeed in our mission of the day. We hesitate for a bit, and I try to delay the inevitable, try to convince my teammates to stay and do more kirtan at the threshold. I am voted down. And so, with chants on our lips and arms triumphantly raised, we cross over. We complete the walk.

It is only when walking back to the subway station, that I allow myself to feel exhausted.

- Vyenkata Bhatta dasa

Of Caste and Call Centers

The Wall Street Journal recently ran this cartoon, offering a two-in-one of negative Indian stereotypes:

Is this funny? Appropriate? Offensive? Should we even care about this?

Expecting Too Much from Sunday

This essay, by an Episcopal priest and writer, raises some interesting questions about how we are utilizing our week's main program. I think it can be very nicely applied to the idea of Sunday Feasts in ISKCON.

COMMENTARY: Expecting Too Much from Sunday
By TOM EHRICH
(c) 2007 Religion News Service

Returning to Sunday parish ministry for four months has given me both a fresh appreciation of the basics and one caution to share with all who care about healthy churches.

First the caution:
I think many congregations expect too much from Sunday. They want Sunday to do all of their work, from welcoming the new to serving the old, from teaching to pastoral care, from ommunity-building to business meetings.

Sunday cannot bear that much weight. For one, there's not enough time; 60 minutes on Sunday can barely handle corporate worship. The rest feels like frenzy and lost focus. It's also the wrong venue. Sunday is for welcoming strangers, not holding business meetings in the lobby. Sunday speaks to corporate identity, not one-on-one friendships or family connections. Sunday worship is time given to God, not to sampling a smorgasbord of religious goods and services.

And Sunday is just too orderly. Even in non-liturgical traditions, Sunday worship has a formality that is necessary for time management, for accomplishing some key objectives, such as preaching and singing, and for focusing the faith community's attention. The rest of a congregation's work needs to happen outside that orderliness: chance encounters, random acts of kindness, conversations that bridge church and world, in-depth dialogue with clergy, study
groups, mission work, personal spirituality.

Those fundamental needs get stifled when they are loaded onto Sunday worship. Clergy feel fragmented. One successful church puts it this way: Sunday morning is for guests, and Wednesday evening is for members. That is, Sunday takes us outside ourselves, and the rest of the week nurtures our community and draws us deeper.

With that in mind, the basics:
First, more chatting and greeting, less last-minute "party management." The "table" must be set before the first guests arrive, so that everyone's attention can focus on quality of greeting. Last-minute dashing about says, "We weren't prepared, and we don't care."

Second, Sunday worship is communal time, not a venue for silence or private prayer. We need silence and prayer, but trying to carve out silence on Sunday morning by shushing those who talk or sending children elsewhere violates community.

Third, let the children come near. Raising up the next generation of worshipping Christians matters far more than preserving solemnity in the pews.

Fourth, Sunday is a time for singing, not music education. Sing hymns that people want to sing, not ones that will enhance their musicality. Sing hymns that stir hearts, set toes to tapping, elicit tears, draw people close, speak in many accents. Ignore religious hierarchs who insist that only "official hymns" are appropriate. The most tone-deaf element of church life tends to be its official hymnals.

Fifth, Sunday is a time for preaching. Serious preaching. Preaching with an edge. Preaching that looks sinners in the eye and says, "God loves you, now get it right." Preaching that looks the complacent in the eye and says, "God loves you, now get outside yourself." Preaching that looks the lost and lonely in the eye and says, "God loves you, now get up, take heart, he is calling you."

I mean preaching that ventures outside the safety of pulpit and manuscript, stands among the people and says, "Here is what I believe we need to hear today, and I need your prayers to say it." Preaching that risks offending the proud and privileged. Preaching that risks transforming the preacher.

When we get these basics right, our congregations will burst the seams on Sunday and demand together-time on Wednesday.

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest in Durham, N.C. He is the author of "Just Wondering, Jesus: 100 Questions People Want to Ask," and the founder of the Church Wellness Project.
His web site is www.morningwalkmedia.com.)

Beating the Measles

Last week, my things-to-do-list was dealt a death-blow by an outbreak of the measles in Alachua County -- home to the largest community of ISKCON devotees in North America.

Apparently, a devotee young person came back from India with the disease and spread it to three others (also all devotees). Most people are vaccinated so you hardly ever hear of anyone getting measles here anymore, but some people do choose not to get the vaccine. Krishna consciousness doesn't prohibit immunization, and so it is a personal decision whether or not to get the vaccine or vaccinate your child. Some devotees feel that taking the vaccine (which is usually made from non-vegetarian ingredients) is unacceptable and abstain. Others choose not to get vaccines on principal, because they are worried about possible side-effects.

Still, outbreaks are pretty uncommon (this was the first one in Alachua in 20 years) and the story made the (local) news pretty fast. Since nearby Gainesville hosts the successful Krishna Lunch program at University of Florida, and since at least one of the measles-carrying devotees is a UF student, the media began to report on a link between the lunch program and the spread of the disease (massive food serve-out + highly contagious disease + the potential for a campus full of infected, itchy, teenagers = juicy angle). We feared that the spread of wrong information and ensuing panic could lead to some bad blood between the Krishna devotees and the rest of the UF community.

In communications and public relations, a situation like this falls into the category known as crisis communications. Crises -- whether measles or financial mismanagement or scandals or whatever -- happen to every organization, and communicators must deal with them. You don't expect them, you can't help them, and boy oh boy -- you sure don't want them. But you can and should plan for them. That means having a crisis communications plan ready to go.

So how do you respond the next time your community gets hit by a measles (or worse)?

1. Express your concern and willingness to work with the proper authorities and do whatever you can to help. Actually do it.
   
2. Acknowledge the facts as you know them so far, and own up to what you don't know. Don't hide, distort, or lie in any way. As communications guru often cite: "Tell it all, tell it fast, tell the truth."
   
3. Clarify misunderstandings or erroneous information. Offer facts and updated information in their place.
   
4. Follow up and follow through. Work with the media, not against them; continue to make yourself a reliable resource-- even after the initial wave of interest has passed.
   

Although we really need to have a proper functioning crisis communications kit, we tried our best to respond by following this model, and the results have been fairly positive so far. A radio show reported that the Hare Krishnas were setting the record straight, and some local papers also reported our concern, willingness to help, and the clarifications we offered.

In the end, I guess the measles aren't the worst thing that could happen to an organization, and at least it provided us with some on-the-job training in crisis communications.

Crisis averted -- for now. I think I'll go back to my regularly-scheduled tasks, until an ISKCON temple somewhere comes down with a bad case of rubella.

Media: How do we get to Heaven?

Salt Lake City, Utah - As part of a series called How do we get to Heaven, Fox 13 recently interviewed ISKCON temple president (and expert devotee communicator) Caru Prabhu. Caru discusses many things -- the gorgeous Spanish Fork temple, the Vaisnava basis for deity worship, demigods and God, animal rights and karma, and the transcendental availability of God through devotional source, for example -- with Fox reporter Max Roth.

You can view the complete interview, a segment of which aired on Mother's Day, by visiting the Utah ISKCON temple's website, utahkrishnas.com.

Caru's interview reveals example after example of exemplary communication, and the community which he leads is a testament to what such communication can do. The temple -- in the heart of "Mormon country" -- is one of the most dynamic, attractive, and successful ISKCON projects in North America. Caru and his wife Vaibhavi enjoy a great relationship with neighbors and friends of other faiths (especially members of the LDS faith), the Hindu-American community, government officials (including the Governor and Senator Orin Hatch), and the local and national media.

Thank you Caru and Vaibhavi prabhus, for your dedicated service to Srila Prabhupada and to ISKCON.

Mother's Day Bhagavatam Class

Happy Mother's Day! Those who are familiar with the Festival of Inspiration know that the Sunday morning Srimad Bhagavatam class is generally a "Mataji Special" -- when one of the exalted Vaisnavis takes to the vyasasana to enlighten us all. I'm here, sitting in the back of the packed-out temple room as Mother Vishakha, a disciple of Srila Prabhupada and talented photographer, author, wife, and mother, begins her class.

The verse, from the Sixth Canto of Bhagavatam, speaks about the reality that we have actually had millions of "mothers" and "fathers" throughout various lifetimes:

By the mystic power of Narada Muni, the living entity reentered his dead body for a short time and spoke in reply to Narada Muni's request. He said: According to the results of my fruitive activities, I, the living being, transmigrate from one body to another, sometimes going to the species of the demigods, sometimes to the species of lower animals, sometimes among the vegetables, and sometimes to the human species. Therefore, in which birth were these my mother and father? No one is actually my mother and father. How can I accept these two people as my parents?" (Bhag. 6.16.4)

Here are some notes from Vishakha Mataji's discussion:

Srila Prabhupada said "Love is action in freedom" -- we must be free from lust, greed, envy, ambition. If we are controlled by these things, we cannot express love. The love of the mother fro child is closest we experience of unconditional love, of love in humility - because it is selfless. This is the focus of our whole culture. To love selflessly. For example, the disciple patiently sits, accepts the discipline of the spiritual master, humbly serves him, and serves one's godbrothers and godsisters. We must rid ourselves of selfishness, as a mother does when she serves her child, if we are to experience the fulfillment of our desire to love and be loved.

A Vaisnava parent can think, "This child has been given to me by Krishna to take care of as a service. He or she may or may not become a devotee of the Lord -- that is not totally within our control, not our decision to make -- but I must serve this child by loving and caring for this child selflessly."

Prabhupada wrote a letter to Arundhati, and he said "For you child worship is more important than deity worship. If you cannot spend time with him, stop pujari duties. These children are given to us by Krishna. They are not ordinary. They are Vaikuntha children.... This is a very great responsibility, do not neglect it or become confused..."

The mother is the caretaker, she is the nurturer and caretaker, and we should be grateful to her. But how can we understand this if the mother is not particularly inclined towards spiritual life or has no interest in Krishna consciousness? We can be grateful that they "chose life" -- that they are -- directly or indirectly -- responsible for us to be here, to be able to take shelter of Srila Prabhupada's teachings.

In the first chapter of Bhagavad-gita, Arjuna gives many good reasons why he didn't want to fight and one of the reasons was that women will become unprotected, and that exploitation will lead to unwanted children. We are experiencing this in our modern society. So what an amazing service it is to have wanted children -- it is a sacred responsibility we take on.

So we see here that this jiva that has re-entered the body of the prince is speaking so cuttingly to his parents. What he is saying is not incorrect, and perhaps he speaks in this way because he wants to cut the attachment -- the purely material attachment -- that his parents had for him. This chapter is called King Chitraketu meets the Lord. After receiving these instructions from his son, the King becomes fixed in his determination to seek God. So, we can take from this pastime that the King and Queen were so attached to having a child that they neglected to give him a spiritual life. That attachment is natural, but it has to be Krishna centered, or else it simply causes misery.

When attachment is based on Krishna it is liberating. The eleventh canto of Bhagavatam gives a nice verse that explains this, and gives the success of motherhood:

One should learn how to associate with the devotees of the Lord by gathering with them to chant the glories of the Lord. This process is most purifying. As devotees thus develop their loving friendship, they feel mutual happiness and satisfaction. And by thus encouraging one another they are able to give up material sense gratification, which is the cause of all suffering. (Bhag. 11.3.30)

All glories to the loving mothers (and fathers) striving to serve selflessly!

Festival of Inspiration, New Vrindaban -- May 13, 2007

Crunch Time

Hare Krishna! It is crunch time -- we leave for the Festival of Inspiration in a few hours, and I still have tons to do. This year, ISKCON Communications will have a small display and an information table; like this blog, the idea behind it is to share what we're doing with the devotee community, and to invite participation, feedback, and support.

If I can get ISKCON IT-wallah Shyam Pandey to help me catch a wireless connection at New Vrindaban, I will try to blog from the Festival. In case I cannot... we wish you all a Happy Mother's Day in advance.


May Srimati Radharani, the mother of devotion, keep us always engaged in the service of Vaisnavas.

Who speaks for Hinduism?

We're sometimes asked to connect professors and interfaith organizations with speakers and panelists to represent Hinduism. Our relationship with what most people call "Hinduism" -- that is to say the family of faiths that are rooted in Vedic literature and culture, but may not necessarily agree on theology -- is complex. I know that there are some devotees who have rather strong views on this subject, and I hope to discuss it in more depth in future blog posts. For now, though, I'd like to focus on a related phenomenon I've observed, practically all my life.

As a second-generation American-born Hindu (yes, I really am hyphenated), I've always found the Hindu representation on panel discussions... hmmm, how can I put this delicately?... weak.

Picture it: a distinguished panel with Father Gregory, a theologian trained at Oxford who earned his PhD on comparisons between Mahayana Buddhism and the Jesuits; Rabbi Greene, who studied for years at Yeshiva and Columbia University before accepting a position as the chair of the United Jewish Rights Federation; Imam Yassir, Koranic scholar, author, and president of the Muslim American Association... and Dr. Kapoor, a cardiologist from the suburbs who likes to read the Bhagavad Gita on weekends. In other words, an uncle.

Earlier today, a professor who is organizing a panel on religion and the environmental crisis, sent me an e-mail telling me that a local (Indian) physicist volunteered to be the Hindu representative. My professor friend asked for my advice, because all the other faiths were represented by religious clerics, but the physicist (let's call him Dr. X) told him that Hindus don't really have clerics.

Here is my reply:

Hi A---,

Thanks for your prompt reply! Hinduism is exceedingly difficult to define because, in truth, it is not one unified tradition at all, but a broad umbrella of faith traditions who all have common roots in the Vedic scriptures of ancient India. In fact the terms "Hindu" or "Hinduism" are foreign words (although everyone uses them now), having been given to the people by the Mogul invaders to India in the middle ages. They are not found in any of our scriptures. Instead, the actual words used are "Vedic" (of the Vedas) or "Dharmic" (of the Dharma).

In any event, I must disagree with Dr. X that Hinduism is represented by the laity. In most traditions within the Hindu fold, there are in fact clerics (although we may not use that type of word) who minister to the congregation and speak about and for the faith. Certainly, this is the case with the Vaishnava sampradaya (most scholars agree that this is the largest "denomination" within Hinduism) which I am a part of.

Of course, since the Hindu community in the U.S. is still young and numerically small, the laity has often had to assume roles that would have been traditionally held by religious leaders, such as speaking on panels like this. This exception has now become the norm so much so that one might assume that this is the way it has always been. It is not.

I mean no disrespect to Dr. X, but as a second-gen Hindu-American and a communications professional in my religious organization, I am speaking from my past experience with such panels. Dr. X's field of study seems to be physics not religion, and -- his own personal study of the sacred texts notwithstanding -- I am curious what would qualify him as an expert on Hindu scripture? Does he have a degree in the study of the scripture (which is called, in Sanskrit, a Shastri degree)? Or does he speak on behalf of a specific Hindu organization?

Personally, I feel that having a lay person represent Hindu traditions while the others on the panel are clerics will run the risk of an unbalanced or weak presentation. Still, it may very well end up that this is your only option, and I definitely think that it is better to have a lay Hindu then no Hindu representative at all. Please let me know if I can help in any other way.

Thanks, Vineet

I know that some devotees want to tread softly around our relationship with the "H-word" (again, more posts to come on that topic -- I promise). Some devotees may even go as far as to say that Hinduism is synonymous with impersonalism, polytheism, superstition, and Indian nationalism.

I disagree.

According to most scholars, Vaisnavas make up the largest group 'within Hinduism.' That presents a wonderful opportunity to share a side of the Vedic tradition -- personalism, worship of one Supreme God, a philosophy based on devotional service -- that people may not be otherwise exposed to. We can help create a definition, and I believe that we can do it without betraying our own unique faith.

If we can be honest as Vaishnavas but broadminded and comfortable enough to represent Hinduism, we can provide the world with the articulate, committed, theologian "Hindus" that are missing from the equation right now.

Who speaks for Hinduism? Whoever is willing to do the speaking.

Video killed the radio star

For some strange reason, I've decided to take on this blog project (soon to morph into a full-on site) right now, just as festival season gets started. So, in the spare moments when I'm not sending out press releases, hopping on planes, or helping to pull the Lord of the Universe and His siblings through North American city streets, I hope to be hammering away at my keyboard.

For now, just procrastinating (from working on my Festival of India presentation) by adding new components to the blog. Two exciting add-ons , courtesy of Google:

• A newsreel that allows us to track the secular press online (I've got it keyed to ISKCON and Hare Krishna right now);
• A viral video sidebar (currently featuring Kuli Mela clips).

I think the Kuli Mela video is especially great -- a lot of energy, honesty, and hope. In the first clip, a 2nd-gen genre-defying band (think Rage Against the Machine meets George Harrison meets Eminem meets Bengali drumming) rocks the stage. In the next couple of clips, an all-star panel (think GBC meets Bollywood) tackles the sticky questions surrounding the creation of community in ISKCON.

Of course, no video could do justice to what it felt like actually being there (if you make it through all the clips, you'll see that I was lucky enough to play some part)... but the footage from Rasa Films come awfully close. Check it out and let us know what you think.

More soon... for now, I better get back to planning that Festival presentation. Haribol!

ys,
VBD

PS: If there are features that you'd like to see on this blog, please let us know. Drop us a line at iskconcommunications@gmail.com.

Hare Krishna!

Hare Krishna, and welcome to the new website for ISKCON Communications. As we settle into our new cyber-space, keep watching this space and let us know what you think. In the mean time, we're hiking up our dhotis (or saris, as the case may be) and dangling our feet into the blog-o-sphere.

Okay, so we know the question on your minds: why a blog? Here are five reasons off the top of my head:

1. Because... sometimes "um, you know, we communicate" is just not a satisfying enough description of what we do.
   
2. Because... It is about time we let you in on all of the interesting stuff happening in the exciting world of communications.
3. Because... We depend on your feedback, ideas, and inspiration on how we can better serve Srila Prabhupada's mission.
4. Because... We spot the trends so that you don't have to.
5. Because... All the cool kids have a blog. :-)

So, now that we've cleared that up... make yourself at home. Keep checking back, and we'll try our best to keep you updated.

Yours in Service,
Vyenkata Bhatta dasa (Vineet Chander)
Director of Communications, North America