Prayers during a Pandemic
The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays. — Soren Kierkegaard
Irrespective of the shape or stripe of our metaphysical assumptions or our spiritual dispositions, we all try to seek a ray of hope and grasp onto it during uncertain times such as ones we are living through right now. Especially faced with a crisis, trying to seek shelter and holding on to something greater than ourselves has always been an integral part of our human effort to make sense of our lives. Human rituals that promote solidarity and help us look beyond the darkness that we find in our present circumstances always come as a healing balm and offer such a ray of hope. And such was the case with congregational singing (sankirtan) and prayers across religious traditions when the Bubonic plague hit India in the final years of the nineteenth century.
Today, more than a hundred and twenty years later as history repeats itself, I wanted to share a little glimpse of history someone lived through and talked about. Here he discusses how people make sense of their suffering, and build inner courage to face it. It is a Bengali article by an unknown author who valued various expressions of human religiosity and discussed how prayers worked at a time such as ours. The English translation is mine, and the entire volume of the journal, along with the original Bengali article is provided at the end of this translation. Also, please bear in mind that this was written more than a century ago when cultural sensibilities were slightly different from ours. — Dr. Abhishek Ghosh
‘The Plague and Devotional Singing in Communities (Sankirtan)’
Author Unknown. Edited by Dr. Durgadas Gupta, Svasthya Vol 3.11–13, pp
Some great soul once claimed, “I love crises, without which we cannot recognize a genuine friend”. But we say, “we also love crises because without such misfortune the presence of the supreme entity or Īśvara cannot be understood, nor can the mind progress towards him.” We are preoccupied with worldly pleasures [contemplating on] “what will help me acquire a house, what will get my wife five-bunches of jewelry, how will I be able to give my children a happy life, and at the end of it all what will allow me to enjoy a pleasurable and comfortable life. We become so busy with such thoughts that it leaves us no time to ponder about God, meditate on his names, or contemplate his limitless energies and glories. I am not saying that no one is able to do so, but rather it does apply to the majority of people.
It is true that some people spend half an hour to an hour at the end of the day or the week to reflect upon the inconceivable, incomprehensible, exceptional, unfathomable, timeless, eternal, glorious Supreme Entity within us. But when we leave surrounded by incessant pleasure and wealth, we do not find such words sweet but rather feel these words to be dry and caustic. But there comes a time when we become obligated to forget about pleasure and wealth, and run towards God, forgetting ourselves. If I were honest, I have to say that these are the times that are really good times. In this sense, our crises are our real friends.
Scholars of history know that during the reign of Henry the VIIIth, Cardinal Wolsey was a limitlessly wealthy person, welding tremendous political clout, and had money rivaling that of the legendary Hindu deity of riches, Kubera, and the royal power that he wielded. Out of misery, lamentation and mental trauma, Wolsey was bound to confess at the end of his life, “Had I but served God as diligently as I have served the king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs” with great remorse after being persecuted and tortured by the same Henry.
Alas! The most merciful God would not have abandoned this old man whose body had become senile and his hair grey if only I had spent half the time thinking about him rather than spending it serving royalty with such due diligence. Wolsey was a wise man and he was able to realize this while he still had time. But he did not have the sublime intelligence to have realized that while he still had time. There are thousands of Wolseys among us today — and not just us, they are there among all communities of people. it is unfortunate that Wolsey happened to one out of whom an example was made.
At the time during the Transvaal War the British was incessantly losing against the Boers to the extent that their enemies gave them a tight slap on their cheeks and snatched away their cannons. At such a time of danger the troubled minds of the well-wishers of the British began to rush towards God irrespective of whether they were Hindus, Muslims, or Christians. There was an abundance of prayers at churches, namaaz at mosques, and worship at temples. Today, the British have come past their bad days, and better days have come but such prayers, that namaaz, that worship is not there anymore! Why did such worship, prayer, and meditation stop? Why? Do we even need to ask? Everyone remembers God when danger is at their doorstep. And when the crisis abates, then the hearts of people don’t soften with such barren words.
It has been three years since the plague entered Calcutta. Whenever the intensity of the plague increases then we become obliged to call upon God. Last year during one such outbreak, there was an abundance of congregational singing of God’s names on the streets (sankirtan). And when the plague calmed down, the sankirtan stopped too. This year, the plague has assumed an even more formidable dimension, and once again people’s minds are getting attracted to sankirtan. Everyday group after group of people are doing sankirtan in every neighborhood with great pomp! In some places more than a hundred people came together loudly singing the holy names of Hari, bemusing witnesses and audiences! Muslims too have come out in various groups along with Hindus to sing the holy names! Seeing this, it seems like an actual crisis is our true friend! Thousands upon thousands of people are joining in singing the holy names whether they are afraid or curious, enthused or reluctant.
But in reality, can sankirtan prevent a plague? Any intelligent person will acknowledge that in terms of direct connection, sankirtan holds no influence over the plague. Sankirtan is not medication, nor is it a preventative antidote. But from generational wisdom, we believe that there is a power that sankirtan holds over the plague or any epidemic. Let me clearly explain what the reasons are behind this belief.
Whenever the fear of an epidemic or pandemic enters a country, the general population becomes attracted towards it. We can see heart-shattering wails arise every day, each hour on roads, at riverbanks, in our homes or our neighbor’s, the palatial bungalows of rich people, the shanties of poor people. Some people are becoming orphans, and others are losing their able-bodied children for life. Some men are losing their beloved spouses and for them it seems that the whole world is becoming like a wild-forest. And some women, after losing their husbands that they cherished as their own life, are then sacrificing all happinesses of the world and contemplating suicide.
Can a vulnerable human heart ever remain calm and steady after seeing such soul-shattering scenes again and again? Who will not become afraid, numb, and anxious when the distressful death-time incantations such as “Bolo Hari! Hari Bol!” and “Ram Nam Satya Hain!” keep entering one’s ear canals day and night? In the home of a joint-family if five or six people leave the world every two to five days, can the remaining members who are alive survive with hope even for a moment? Thus no matter how the fear of an epidemic or pandemic comes about, it is natural for people to feel afraid, alarmed, and restless.
How can we have the hope to live for another day when we see with our own eyes, or hear with our ears that there is a lack of space for dead bodies at the Nimtala cremation ground, and that the government has been bound to double or triple the number of funeral pyres? Because people become crestfallen, the fear of an epidemic or pandemic becomes magnified. We’re telling the readers of our journal ‘Health’ that the main aide in times of fear such as this is one’s own mental strength and confidence during remission of this disease. At the time of the fear of an epidemic or pandemic, whatever increases our mental strength, and gives us courage and casts away fear, is beneficial.
We all know and understand that a patient doesn’t get cured simply with a doctor living with them, or seeing them daily. Even then, when a doctor comes to see patients, they gain confidence and becomes fearful when the doctor doesn’t. This form of reliance often performs miracles like a magic spell in many circumstances. What else can a human being turn to when treatment is ineffective, a medicine hasn’t been invented yet, or diseases that confuse doctors or leave them clueless? What else is there that will abate the fear in people’s hearts and replace it with confidence and courage, especially when a disease is spreading like wildfire? At a time like this what other option do we have except surrendering to God?
It is for this reason that people turn to God for courage at a time of a plague or an epidemic, sing his names, and try to gain courage by listening to great spiritual truths. It is for this reason people perform sankirtan. Whether you sing the holy names of Hari, pray to Jesus Christ, or remember Allah, the essence is to direct the mind in complete yoga towards Ishvara at a time of danger. People end up doing whatever they pin their faith on. From constantly reciting or singing the names of God the fear of the mortal world will go away, and people will engage in activities with the belief that they will be eventually rescued from life’s crises. And when this belief is firm and unshakable, then the results naturally speak for itself.
The readers of this journal are not completely unfamiliar with the idea that one’s conviction can somewhat relieve one [from the pain of] disease. And to the extent this conviction is deep and firm, the results are equally assured.
Religious faith is gradually waning away from educated societies like the long shadow from a late afternoon. However such faith is still firm in communities that are less well-educated, especially among women and lower sections of [contemporary Bengali] society. And because such faith is firm, they make sacrificial offerings in pilgrimages such as Tārakeśvar in order to obtain desired results. We hear that even some educated people do it too in order to obtain fulfillment of wishes. Whether you call it superstition, or blind faith, or whatever you may wish but the core idea is to obtain the intended outcome. When we see that the plague is especially rampant among lower classes of society, and that women particularly are dying at a higher rate than men, will we not obtain the intended outcome if we’re able to illuminate a sense of dharma in their hearts through sankirtan and fan the flames of conviction in their hearts?
In this way, it is not impossible to think that the outbreak can be checked through sankirtan. Let the government do what they believe to be the best course of action, and let citizens take up whatever they think is best! We will all be happy if the cooperative efforts of both bring good results!
To access the Bengali journal, click here. The article is in Vol 3, Issue 11–12, pages 351–354. I am grateful to my friend and student Arpan Ganguly for scanning and sharing the article with me from the Bhaktivedanta Research Center Library, Kolkata.
