Lumbini, Nepal
November 27, 2012
Altitude: 600'
In 1980, shortly after the Camp David Accords, I planned a summer trip to Israel and Egypt. The borders had just opened and this seemed like the time to do it.
"The Holy Land," my mother said. She was very excited for me. Just before leaving she handed me a rosary and asked that it be blessed somewhere.
I carried it with me the entire trip. The day I went to Bethlehem, I brought it with me. For me, there could be no better place to have the rosary blessed.
This was 32 years ago, before the days of massive tourism, before the hordes of Chinese and Japanese all wanting their pictures taken in front of every possible place. There were tourists to be sure, but not in the numbers there are today.
When I stepped into the Grotto of the Nativity I was alone. In that small space there is a gold marker where tradition says that Jesus was born. I placed the rosary on top of it and simply sat. For more than ten minutes I was the only person there. Only when another person came did I give up my seat.
Later, I brought the rosary into the Church of the Nativity, found a priest and asked him to bless it. But to me, the real blessing on this rosary occurred in ten minutes it rested on the gold marker.
This is the power that Bethlehem had on me and I'm sure Lumbini, in southern Nepal, close to the Indian border, has the same power for Buddhists,. It's here, sometime around the year 563 BC, that Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, was born.
And so it was that I found myself in this town--one of the four most important Buddhist pilgrimage sites in the world. For Buddhists, this is a place of huge religious experience and it attracts pilgrims from around the world. For years, though, unlike its Christian counterpart, it lay in ruins and was only "rediscovered" in 1896. Subsequent digs have concluded that this is the site where the Buddha was born.
I arrived at the site early in the morning. Mist still hung over the village as I rode my bike into the park that was designed in 1978. A large, white, square buildings that looks more like a mosque protects the 3rd Century BC remains of stupas and monasteries. Just outside the building is one of the 33 existing Ashoka pillars put there by the Buddhist emperor Ashoka in the 2,200 years ago.Its these pillars that have in Nepal and northern India that have helped archaeologists the most.
There was a long line waiting to get into the Maya Devi temple named after the Buddha's mother. We walked on raised walkways peering down at the ruins. In the center of the temple was the actual spot that tradition said that Siddhartha was born. It was marked with a small footprint which ancient writers spoke of. For the Buddhists present, this was a powerful religious moment. They bowed in silence. Some placed gold leaf on the ruin next to the birth site. Above this was a 2nd century terracotta Nativity.
Outside, three groups of Buddhist pilgrims--two from Japan and one from Tibet--were chanting. Others stood in silence, hand folded in prayer. Others sat silent in meditation.
It was still foggy and the nicely landscaped garden and streams and streams of multicolored prayer flags fluttered in the light breeze.
Once outside of the temple complex, I meandered across abridge. Wetlands attract graceful white cranes and the ponds were full of lotus.
Beyond this were newer monasteries that had been erected by every Buddhist nation in the world.
That afternoon I joined a small tour that brought us to significant outer sites associated with the Buddha.
I'm very happy I went to Lumbini, but it's no Bethlehem. How could it be? it's not part of my imagery or culture. And while I have a lot of respect for Buddhism, it not my tradition and never will be. The imagery I hold of Nativity is far different.
Knowing what I know now, I doubt I'd ever return to Bethlehem. It truly is for me "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem." I remember that I made a day of it. I visited the church and the grotto and then walked to Shepard's Field where tradition said the angels announced the birth of Jesus to the Shepherds. "For unto you..."
I had Luke 2 with me and will always remember sitting in that field alone, somewhere on the outskirts of Bethlehem, living very much in my Bethlehem moment.
I walked back into the center of town, but was diverted by a Christian Palestinian family who invited me into their home for lunch. I have often wondered about them as violence erupted in Israel during the last 32 years.
I have a small hand carved Nativity that I brought from an Armenian man who had a shop in town. I must remember to take it out this Christmas.
Still, I'm glad I went. But I just couldn't get excited about it the way I saw Buddhists on pilgrimage get excited. For them, it was their "Bethlehem." And I had to respect that.
November 27, 2012
Altitude: 600'
In 1980, shortly after the Camp David Accords, I planned a summer trip to Israel and Egypt. The borders had just opened and this seemed like the time to do it.
"The Holy Land," my mother said. She was very excited for me. Just before leaving she handed me a rosary and asked that it be blessed somewhere.
I carried it with me the entire trip. The day I went to Bethlehem, I brought it with me. For me, there could be no better place to have the rosary blessed.
This was 32 years ago, before the days of massive tourism, before the hordes of Chinese and Japanese all wanting their pictures taken in front of every possible place. There were tourists to be sure, but not in the numbers there are today.
When I stepped into the Grotto of the Nativity I was alone. In that small space there is a gold marker where tradition says that Jesus was born. I placed the rosary on top of it and simply sat. For more than ten minutes I was the only person there. Only when another person came did I give up my seat.
Later, I brought the rosary into the Church of the Nativity, found a priest and asked him to bless it. But to me, the real blessing on this rosary occurred in ten minutes it rested on the gold marker.
This is the power that Bethlehem had on me and I'm sure Lumbini, in southern Nepal, close to the Indian border, has the same power for Buddhists,. It's here, sometime around the year 563 BC, that Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, was born.
And so it was that I found myself in this town--one of the four most important Buddhist pilgrimage sites in the world. For Buddhists, this is a place of huge religious experience and it attracts pilgrims from around the world. For years, though, unlike its Christian counterpart, it lay in ruins and was only "rediscovered" in 1896. Subsequent digs have concluded that this is the site where the Buddha was born.
I arrived at the site early in the morning. Mist still hung over the village as I rode my bike into the park that was designed in 1978. A large, white, square buildings that looks more like a mosque protects the 3rd Century BC remains of stupas and monasteries. Just outside the building is one of the 33 existing Ashoka pillars put there by the Buddhist emperor Ashoka in the 2,200 years ago.Its these pillars that have in Nepal and northern India that have helped archaeologists the most.
There was a long line waiting to get into the Maya Devi temple named after the Buddha's mother. We walked on raised walkways peering down at the ruins. In the center of the temple was the actual spot that tradition said that Siddhartha was born. It was marked with a small footprint which ancient writers spoke of. For the Buddhists present, this was a powerful religious moment. They bowed in silence. Some placed gold leaf on the ruin next to the birth site. Above this was a 2nd century terracotta Nativity.
Outside, three groups of Buddhist pilgrims--two from Japan and one from Tibet--were chanting. Others stood in silence, hand folded in prayer. Others sat silent in meditation.
Once outside of the temple complex, I meandered across abridge. Wetlands attract graceful white cranes and the ponds were full of lotus.
Beyond this were newer monasteries that had been erected by every Buddhist nation in the world.
That afternoon I joined a small tour that brought us to significant outer sites associated with the Buddha.
I'm very happy I went to Lumbini, but it's no Bethlehem. How could it be? it's not part of my imagery or culture. And while I have a lot of respect for Buddhism, it not my tradition and never will be. The imagery I hold of Nativity is far different.
Knowing what I know now, I doubt I'd ever return to Bethlehem. It truly is for me "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem." I remember that I made a day of it. I visited the church and the grotto and then walked to Shepard's Field where tradition said the angels announced the birth of Jesus to the Shepherds. "For unto you..."
I had Luke 2 with me and will always remember sitting in that field alone, somewhere on the outskirts of Bethlehem, living very much in my Bethlehem moment.
I walked back into the center of town, but was diverted by a Christian Palestinian family who invited me into their home for lunch. I have often wondered about them as violence erupted in Israel during the last 32 years.
I have a small hand carved Nativity that I brought from an Armenian man who had a shop in town. I must remember to take it out this Christmas.
Still, I'm glad I went. But I just couldn't get excited about it the way I saw Buddhists on pilgrimage get excited. For them, it was their "Bethlehem." And I had to respect that.
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