We spent the afternoon at the largest Hindu Temple in North America (at least until the new one opens in Atlanta next summer). We arrived through the back door and were greeted by our tour guide. After removing our shoes we were led to an unbelieveably ornate room where every square inch was carved teak wood carved in India and shipped to Chicago. Our orientation included an explanation that the many of the shapes we saw carved in marble outside were images of demi-gods similar to our angels (or demons?). We were then led to the underground tunnel that took us from the educational building into the temple itself which you can see as the marble/turkish limestone structure in the picture. In the tunnel, there were paintings and posters explaining the tenants of the Hindu beliefs. Hindi is a monotheistic religion even though they serve thousands of gods. Those gods provide a gateway to the one true god who cannot be known. We heard how the statues we would see were human representations of what the gods might look like. They are bathed and clothed and fed 3 meals a day. If you serve them well, you may eventually move out of the endless loop of incarnation and enter heaven, or if you serve poorly you may spend a season in hell until your punishment is paid. The temple itself was so oranate that it was dizzying. It was like being in a marble forest. As the doors opened and the gods were revealed in their clothes for the day, others entered to bring them gifts of money and food and bowed down prostrate before them on the warmed marble floor. It seems so impossible that this is taking place in America today. My heart was broken as I prayed for each person who entered the temple to pray. The spiritual darkness inside the temple with the carved faces of demons looking at you (and if the demi-gods are the angels, who are the gods?) was oppressive and made me feel physically ill.
THANK YOU so much those of you who took the time and pray and especially for those who took the time to tell me you prayed. That was what kept me there long enough to be respectful and to pray for each one I saw.
It made me wonder what those who are captured by darkness must feel when they enter our churches which are strongholds of light. The victory of the Jesus's blood on the cross over the power of darkness is something we don't celebrate often enough. We take it for granted as we live our lives oblivious to the consuming darkness that is quicksand to so many we meet. We never know their story and have no idea that the nice man in the Mini-Mart or at the gas station spends his weekends worshipping the powers of darkness.
