Not the start of a bad joke: A Hindu, A Protestant, and a Catholic Attended Mass

During my time here, a friendship has developed with a local guy around my age. His name is Harish, and I now expect and look forward to his nightly appearances at my door. Harish is my link to the community: he cooks traditional food, takes me to festivals and weddings, reminds me I'm paying more than I should at the market, lectures on how much better cricket is than baseball, and tolerates/disregards the involuntary "watch out" & "you can't pass him..." yelps erupting out of me while riding behind him on the motorbike.

In many ways, we are similar: we love playing sports, eating fried food, and talking about family. In fact, Harish's entire family extends unwarranted courtesies to me on my visits. I love going there. In one roughly 10'x10' concrete/corrogated room, the entire family lives. The ceiling hangs low enough to permit an overhead platform to provide bedding for the entire family, suspended underneath the sloping metal roof. In his home, there is always laughter (often from my butchered attempts at speaking Hindi or Marathi), hot chai, and multiple generations. Yet, in spite of our common ground, from the moment I arrive, I can't help but notice the differences. First, shoes clutter the threshold, in a Hindu home, no one enters without removing his shoes. Second, in addition to paintings portraying Shiva, a small idol and shrine of Ganesh (the city's favorite god of fortune; the elephant man) adorns the corner opposite the entrance. Occasionally, the family insists on placing a ritualistic colored dot on my forehead. He tells me of the world famous golden temple in Punjab where his family comes from, shows me a picture of the cobra that is his god, and categorizes everyone he speaks of by religion. “Only Muslims serve pannicomb chai,” or “Everybody being Catholic in this area,” or “Hindu people never being. . .” On some levels, it is merely a social distinction, on others it is much more. For example, it is not enough of a boundry for Harish to distance himself from me, but I believe it is no coincidence that the vast majority of his other friends are Hindu.

In short, as we get to know each other better, I can feel the religious divide creeping towards the forefront. Further, as a born again Christian who believes Jesus when He says that no one comes to the Father but through Him, I must accept that Harish and his family, kind as they are, are living outside of the kingdom of God- lost.

This thought prompts me to be alert and prayerful whenever the issue of my faith arises. It is a tedious task, however, as Hinduism is much closer to relativism than Christianity. The traditions are oral, imprecise, and, occasionally, untranslatable. There are over 300 million deities and probably as many distinct versions of following them. In short, Hinduism lacks the absolutes of Christianity. Accordingly, I feel like absolute statements of Christian truths often sound presumptuous to Hindu listeners. And so, gradually, we have held more discussions about our faiths.

These minor discussions led to a curious event. One evening, I rode with Harish to see a lady that is helping Harish with the administrative details of his employment. She invited us onto her porch to talk, and while I was sizing up her enormous Great Dane named Stone, Harish introduced me as a Christian. The lady then asked me where I attended Mass, and, upon further questioning, I revealed to her that I am Protestant. She then insisted that Harish and I accompany her the next day to Mass at the only nearby Cathedral. Never having been to Mass, and sensing that this might get more dialogue flowing with Harish, I agreed.

So, there we sat (or kneeled , or chanted, or stood; depending on the appropriate moment), a Catholic, a Protestant, and a Hindu, pouring sweat in the sweltering pew. Expecting that I would attain the equivalent of counterclockwise, I didn't bother trying to cross myself. Additionally, we were both expressly instructed not to partake of the Holy Communion. After mass, as we walked back together the lady went on a short rant about the priest's bland tone, while I contemplated all that I saw and heard. On the other hand, Harish was quiet and dismissive of my attempts to discuss the event with him. Regardless of this one occasion, opportunities continue to arise, and I strive for readiness at each one of them.