My Journey to Understand Different Faiths
I recently set out on a journey to discover what religion means to others. I am not a religious person in the truest sense, though I was brought up in an Orthodox Christian family. Instead, I had long concluded that helping those who are suffering in their lives is most important to me. With that aim, in my late forties, I sold my business at the peak of my career and embarked on social work, satisfying a desire to serve that had started percolating at 18.
Shanti Bhavan has been my life for the past thirty years. I care for hundreds of children from various religious backgrounds, and have come to realize that understanding their beliefs is crucial to fully comprehending them and their families. I could learn more about who they are by visiting spiritual sites of importance to their religions and talking directly to others about their faith. Why do they worship the way they do? How do they want God to help them? To gain this critical insight into their beliefs, I took a journey to north India while I still had the opportunity.
This was also a father-and-son journey. My son, Vivek, has taken up meditation and Buddhist values, and he says he finds peace and calm within himself through his practices. He holds an MBA from NYU and is pursuing a business career, but he felt the need to travel the world to learn and bond with his father. He told me, “It’s not money that I want to focus on, but about being a good person and leading a worthwhile life.”
So, our journey together started by exploring the Buddhist faith in Kushinagar, in Uttar Pradesh, where the Buddha is said to have been buried. What I found most remarkable was the tranquillity and simplicity of the place and the reverence people displayed towards the Buddha. We followed the monks around, who could hardly speak English, but it didn’t matter. We could cut through the superficial barriers between us by facial expressions and respect and by observing the significance of their gentle ways.
From Kushinagar, we drove for five hours to reach Lumbini in Nepal, where the Buddha was born. The roads were not the greatest, and crossing to Nepal was difficult—many checkpoints and a mile-long line of trucks to navigate. But our driver, Gautam, a Sikh man, seemed to know every little street and, more importantly, how to get through heavy traffic. We enjoyed our journey with him as he explained whatever we enquired about, and I felt his turban helped him look tough with officials at checkpoints, making entry smoother compared to what could have been.
Lumbini is a fascinating place. We went to see Buddha’s birthplace, and again, I was taken by how peaceful and serene this place was, a tenet of their faith that permeates these sacred places. The monks live a very simple life, existing solely on what people give them; they don’t cook and won’t accept money for themselves—all a part of their vows to remove all dukkha, translated to ill-being, from their lives. However, if you go to a monastery and cook for them or gift them food, they can eat. I found their practices and beliefs intriguing.
From Lumbini, we continued our journey to Varanasi, formerly called Banaras, to witness and understand the rituals in Hinduism. It is by the river Ganges where the dead are cremated and ashes thrown into this majestic river for salvation. Some people dip themselves in the Ganges to purify themselves and go into their next life with good karma. I observed their faces and the rituals they practiced, seeing how meaningful absolving themselves of sin was to them. Seeing them live out their faith left a lasting impact on me.
While in Varanasi, we visited the Golden Temple dedicated to Lord Shiva. There were masses of people trying to get to the temple and worship—an essential duty for them while they are alive. Vivek and I joined them but were stopped at the entrance to the temple compound. The security guards asked for our names, and with my Christian first name, I was not allowed to enter. I tried to explain that I had come from America to see the temple, but I was told that Christians and Muslims couldn’t.
I then decided to take a different tact to make it clear how much this sacred place meant to me. I said, “As a young man, I served in the Indian army, and as a captain, I led and did everything I could to protect my Hindu jawans (soldiers) while fighting China in the Himalayas and Pakistan in Jammu-Kashmir.” The inspector stared at me perplexed, and I continued, “I can serve the nation, but I can’t enter this holy temple.” He appeared embarrassed, and quickly walked over to the senior official and explained something. He returned in a few minutes, ordered his police officers to let us in, and escorted us to the main temple.
On our return from the temple, we passed sadhus who devote their entire lives to the faith, in saffron robes and long beards at every street corner. I tried to make friends with one by asking questions about himself and if he would wish me peace, an uncommon request from visitors. He stared at me, surprised, and put his hand on my shoulder with a broad smile. He was a holy man, and I was supposed to show him great reverence, but suddenly, despite not sharing the same religious beliefs, we became friends.
In that conversation with this Sadhu, I had put into practice my long-standing belief that if you interact with others at their level and show respect and affection, you can win them over. That’s what I do with the parents of Shanti Bhavan children from poor families. I treat them as my friends, give them respect, and joke with them. The moment you connect with them, you’ve won them over.
In Varanasi, I also visited a gurudwara—a temple of worship for the Sikhs. My driver, a Sikh himself, was happy to take me there. I found their practices appealing, as they believe in serving others, something I’ve devoted my life to.
Having been to the places where the Buddha was born and died, the next in our exploration of the Buddhist faith was to find out how he had become the Buddha. So, from Varanasi, we went to Sarnath, one of the most important places for Buddhists. Buddha was born Siddhartha, the son of a king whose father wanted him to take over the kingdom. From a young age, Siddhartha felt suffering and decided to go on a mission to rid himself of his ‘inner pain’ by renouncing worldly things and ties. That’s how he got into meditation, and after many years, he felt “enlightened” and became Buddha, whose practices echoed by the monks and Buddhists we had seen along the way.
Finally, Vivek and I arrived at Bodh Gaya, the last stop on our journey and probably the most peaceful place for me on this trip. We went to the Mahabodhi Temple Complex—one of the four holy sites related to the life of Lord Buddha, where he had attained enlightenment and meditated under a Bodhi tree. What was remarkable, however, was to see so many monasteries run by Thai, Indian, Nepalese, and Sri Lankan monks, all connected through their faith and to something bigger than themselves.
My son and I returned home, ending our trip to learn about some of the important religions of India. We spoke to several people in each place we visited and learned about their faith. In doing so, I began to understand their abundant motivations: some spiritual, some duty-based, some to purify themselves, some to rid themselves of pain, and some to serve others. In having these conversations and seeing their devotion to the gods they believe in and the rituals they were performing, I was able to see a throughline that rose above the delineation of each faith: an awareness of something bigger than themselves.
The trip helped me in multiple ways. I strengthened my bond with my son; it’s important for me to see and know that he is a good man. But I have also gained a better understanding of the children's backgrounds at Shanti Bhavan. We ask that they achieve success not just for themselves but for their families as well. Understanding who they are outside of our walls has made it possible for us to guide them better.
