A film like Endhiran reminds me why so many people exclaim with the psalmist that man is fearfully and wonderfully made. I have never realised that it is an oxymoron that something can be made fearful and at the same time wonderful. Chitti is simply that. The first half of the film shows that he is wonderful and the second half shows that he is fearful.
Throughout the ages science has often posed a challenge to creation and Endhiran is the final frontier of trying to superimpose emotions onto a robot. Dr. Vaseegaran is faced with the same perplexing questions which God often faces - of placing a 'free-will' into his most advanced creation 'MAN'. God can do everything by might and power as beautifully demonstrated in the film 'Bruce Almighty', but not 'force' somebody to love. Chitti again reiterated to me that any all-powerful creation cannot create or extract love from another human being; that even God is helplessly waiting at me for the reciprocal of his love shown to me.
The Bible recounts in just its 6th Chapter in the 6th verse, that God repented for having created man - that that verse is found in page 6 of the Tamil Bible is a curiouse case of coincidence, a topic for another day. But how can God 'repent'? Why would God feel sorry for a wrong doing, if that is what repentance means? Those questions are answered in Endhiran. Vaseegaran as the creator, leads us through those emotions.
To me the real hero of the film is Shankar, the director. He had the guts to dream a dream and has achieved it, providing further inspiration to the dreamers. It will always be a debate if God was right in providing free-will to man, if Vaseegaran was right in providing emotions to Chitti. If there was no free-will there is no free, unrestrained love. And God valued that free-love so much that he would stake the whole world for it.
Endhiran is a beautiful portrayal of the struggle between power and love. Even in real life, much has been talked about jodu ka gulaams and hen-pecked husbands. When you come to think of it, every man of the house could whack his wife and get work done, but will that evoke true love? I am sure it wont. It is the cruel path of sacrifice, understanding and patience that will do it. For those reasons a man and a woman are fearfully and wonderfully made - to live with and for each other. No Endhiran will be able to match that.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
An act of God
I am writing this from Dubai en route to Chennai. The past week has been nothing but devastatingly wrecking and devastatingly wonderful. The volcanic ash cloud from Iceland had been severely thwarting my travel plans for the past week and a half. And it did cause immense chaos to thousands of air travel passengers around the world in a scale never imagined before, reminding us all what a small world we live in. A pinprick here and the whole balloon is affected. Interestingly I was finishing my eight month internship at this same time in the UK. So anticipation to meet family was extremely high which heightened the personal crisis for me.
Among all this chaos what was funny was the recurrent occurrence of the phrase ‘act of God’. It was extremely funny as the western world has long abandoned any serious mention of God in the public place. It truly was an act of God. No human force could stand before it. Million-dollar airlines had to bow their knees before an all-powerful Volcano. UK would not have uttered the word ‘God’ so much in recent times, as insurance companies kept reiterating that it was an act of God and they had nothing or little to offer.
On the other hand the fact that I am sitting here in Dubai on the date I was supposed to be here, is in itself an act of God for me. That my flight departed on time, when that was a serious question mark on it for the whole of last week is furthermore an act of God. I remember the song, that God will make a way. By the roadway in the wilderness he will lead me. Rivers in the desert will I see. The roads in Dubai are in fact streaks of pathway between wilderness and the waters in the deserts from the plane above did shine there glimmer between the deserts.
While I am writing this rosy picture, I also remember the thousands of people, who could not find a roadway in the wilderness, who did not see the rivers in the desert for the past ten days. Would I have been writing this blog if I was one of those hundreds of thousands stranded in an international airport without food or lodging? How did God act for them? Rather, why did God NOT act for them? Or was there God through this entire melee? How do we know? If only the ash cloud had moved North instead of South a fraction of the current affected would have been affected. If it had moved in a north-easterly direction not a soul would have fluttered. While it taught us all important lessons about volcanoes and aeronautical engineering, what does it teach about God? What fun could have God possibly had in stopping people attending marriages (some their own), funerals, meeting their beloved ones and scores crying in airports in utter desperation? If it is an act of God, why would he act this way? More questions and fewer answers.
As for me it did teach a lot of gratitude. You never know how much something means to you, until it becomes a matter of life or death to you. While I had become inure to flying, after hopping into a number of planes over the past eight months, for the first time, I am grateful to acknowledge the dynamics behind a flight taking off on time and landing safely. Something as remote as a volcano called Eyjafjallajøkull in Iceland which people would have never heard and would never be able to pronounce even if they wanted to curse it, can wreck or ruin their life in Beijing or Chennai tells us that we are really walking on thin ice daily. And maybe we should not take things for granted. Every blessing, every good thing might be actually an act of God. As for the catastrophes - are they also an act of God…. I don’t know. That would be one of the first questions I would ask Him, when I see Him in person. That is one flight I am pretty much sure will not be disrupted by a two-bit volcano. I will be with my Saviour in the Heavenly heavens.
Among all this chaos what was funny was the recurrent occurrence of the phrase ‘act of God’. It was extremely funny as the western world has long abandoned any serious mention of God in the public place. It truly was an act of God. No human force could stand before it. Million-dollar airlines had to bow their knees before an all-powerful Volcano. UK would not have uttered the word ‘God’ so much in recent times, as insurance companies kept reiterating that it was an act of God and they had nothing or little to offer.
On the other hand the fact that I am sitting here in Dubai on the date I was supposed to be here, is in itself an act of God for me. That my flight departed on time, when that was a serious question mark on it for the whole of last week is furthermore an act of God. I remember the song, that God will make a way. By the roadway in the wilderness he will lead me. Rivers in the desert will I see. The roads in Dubai are in fact streaks of pathway between wilderness and the waters in the deserts from the plane above did shine there glimmer between the deserts.
While I am writing this rosy picture, I also remember the thousands of people, who could not find a roadway in the wilderness, who did not see the rivers in the desert for the past ten days. Would I have been writing this blog if I was one of those hundreds of thousands stranded in an international airport without food or lodging? How did God act for them? Rather, why did God NOT act for them? Or was there God through this entire melee? How do we know? If only the ash cloud had moved North instead of South a fraction of the current affected would have been affected. If it had moved in a north-easterly direction not a soul would have fluttered. While it taught us all important lessons about volcanoes and aeronautical engineering, what does it teach about God? What fun could have God possibly had in stopping people attending marriages (some their own), funerals, meeting their beloved ones and scores crying in airports in utter desperation? If it is an act of God, why would he act this way? More questions and fewer answers.
As for me it did teach a lot of gratitude. You never know how much something means to you, until it becomes a matter of life or death to you. While I had become inure to flying, after hopping into a number of planes over the past eight months, for the first time, I am grateful to acknowledge the dynamics behind a flight taking off on time and landing safely. Something as remote as a volcano called Eyjafjallajøkull in Iceland which people would have never heard and would never be able to pronounce even if they wanted to curse it, can wreck or ruin their life in Beijing or Chennai tells us that we are really walking on thin ice daily. And maybe we should not take things for granted. Every blessing, every good thing might be actually an act of God. As for the catastrophes - are they also an act of God…. I don’t know. That would be one of the first questions I would ask Him, when I see Him in person. That is one flight I am pretty much sure will not be disrupted by a two-bit volcano. I will be with my Saviour in the Heavenly heavens.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Church: Why bother?
For ages mankind has tussled with the notion of religion and the meaning or meaninglessness it brings to everyday life. Notwithstanding any of these tussles, I went in search of a church here in Tanzania. I eyed a particular church but settled for the one which came the nearest on my route. It had none of the paraphernalia of a church. It was a make-shift school building, which they had hired to gather to worship. An unobtrusive worship service which had 5 adults including me and 4 children running around. One girl had studied English and was my translator for the day, trying her ‘best’ from Swahili to English.
To me it was just another Sunday morning worship in a church, just a different location. But not to the church members, especially the pastor. The moment they saw a visitor step into the church their hearts bubbled with joy. They did not expect me to stay for long. When they saw that I did stay through till the sermon, they were exhilarated to no end. That small church with no musical instruments, no proper chairs or tables, no AV equipment, was the last to expect a visitor and when they learnt that I am from India, the pastor was on the verge of tears. To him, I was God-sent, a blessing to his church. He repeatedly blessed me, which was a little embarrassing, for just choosing to sit in their church.
Most of the western world, has long abandoned church and any form of religion. “Christians do horrible things during the six days of the week. Come Sunday, they buckle a Bible under their armpits and strut along to church proclaiming godliness. What a shame!” they shrug. One of my friends gave a very profound reply to that oft-repeated trite against Christians. He said, “Christians go to church not because they are holy; but on the contrary they acknowledge their unholiness and are trying something concrete to do about it”. I would apply that to every seeker of God, while in no way condoning the hypocrisy involved in religion.
I asked the girl who translated for me if she had an English Bible. She said “No, but I woood like if I haad one”. I gave my English Bible to her and walked away. I came out of the experience trying to unravel the cosmic experience of it. God chose a person from India, who is currently, based in London to go to Tanzania and hand-deliver a little girl her much-wanted English Bible. When I learnt that my common everyday act can be a harbinger of blessing to others, it did give a chill through my spine. I walked out of the church empty-handed but filled with joy and blessing in my heart.
I went and sat in that small church in a sleepy village in Tanzania on a Sunday morning, not because I was holy, but because I wanted to seek God among fellow-seekers. Surely I don’t understand many things, like the Haiti-earthquake or even the poverty of my earnest fellow-seekers in that small church. But if I understood everything, I would stop the seeking, wont I?
To me it was just another Sunday morning worship in a church, just a different location. But not to the church members, especially the pastor. The moment they saw a visitor step into the church their hearts bubbled with joy. They did not expect me to stay for long. When they saw that I did stay through till the sermon, they were exhilarated to no end. That small church with no musical instruments, no proper chairs or tables, no AV equipment, was the last to expect a visitor and when they learnt that I am from India, the pastor was on the verge of tears. To him, I was God-sent, a blessing to his church. He repeatedly blessed me, which was a little embarrassing, for just choosing to sit in their church.
Most of the western world, has long abandoned church and any form of religion. “Christians do horrible things during the six days of the week. Come Sunday, they buckle a Bible under their armpits and strut along to church proclaiming godliness. What a shame!” they shrug. One of my friends gave a very profound reply to that oft-repeated trite against Christians. He said, “Christians go to church not because they are holy; but on the contrary they acknowledge their unholiness and are trying something concrete to do about it”. I would apply that to every seeker of God, while in no way condoning the hypocrisy involved in religion.
I asked the girl who translated for me if she had an English Bible. She said “No, but I woood like if I haad one”. I gave my English Bible to her and walked away. I came out of the experience trying to unravel the cosmic experience of it. God chose a person from India, who is currently, based in London to go to Tanzania and hand-deliver a little girl her much-wanted English Bible. When I learnt that my common everyday act can be a harbinger of blessing to others, it did give a chill through my spine. I walked out of the church empty-handed but filled with joy and blessing in my heart.
I went and sat in that small church in a sleepy village in Tanzania on a Sunday morning, not because I was holy, but because I wanted to seek God among fellow-seekers. Surely I don’t understand many things, like the Haiti-earthquake or even the poverty of my earnest fellow-seekers in that small church. But if I understood everything, I would stop the seeking, wont I?
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