Dear diary,
My sweetheart and I spent the holiday at my mom’s new place. (Over the summer, my mom moved into a new place – she sold our family’s old five-bedroom house and bought a single-bedroom apartment: this is the first I’ve mentioned it here; remind me to tell you all about it later.) My brother and his family did not show up, but my sister was there. The meal was the best Thanksgiving fare I’ve had yet: Praise mom, from whom all blessings flow.
During the meal, the conversation centered on my sister’s interests. She shared with us her new “obsession” (that’s what she called it) – she explained that she has become an afficionado of the old Dayton’s department stores; and she longs for the days when people would “get dressed up to go shopping at the mall.”
She also informed us that she has become interested in Sikhism; whereon, she pulled out a book from her death-bag and tapped its title: Guru Granth Sahib.
“What a strange name,” I said; “I’ve never heard of that before.” Then she passed me the book, and, while opening it, I asked: “How did you ever find such a thing?”
“It was on my list of suggested products at Amazon,” she said, referring to the online retailer.
“You really took advice from Amazon?”
“Yes,” she said. “Actually, first I went to ChatGPT – do you know it?”
“I think so,” I said. “Machine intelligence?”
“Yeah. Well, I like to talk to ChatGPT,” she said; “I do it all the time, so it knows all my interests – it probably knows me better than anyone, because I tell it everything about myself. So I asked ChatGPT what area of study a person like me should pursue next in life. And it said that I might like Sikhism.”
“So are you tired of yoga and astrology?”
“No,” she said, “I just love to learn new things, and I want to get more inspiration from different sources.”
That’s as far as the conversation went. But I’m eager to know more about anything that anyone’s interested in, especially the self-styled obsessions of my own sister (double-especially when they’ve been proposed by something robotic); so, once the holiday ended and we got back home, I fired up my own supercomputer and searched for info pertaining to “Sikhism” and the “Guru Granth Sahib.” I only learned the simplest facts, if my results are even trustworthy – I’ll jot down what I found out, just for the record. . . .
Apparently a man named Nanak (Father Nanak, Guru Nanak) was the “poet founder” of Sikhism – although Nanak himself probably would not have used that label, as it was stamped upon his movement by British colonists: they just added an “-ism” to the Punjabi word “Sikh,” which is rooted in the term “to learn” and means “disciple.” – This is already enough to demystify Sikhism for me: in the future, whenever I hear someone mention it, it shall signify one who follows the teachings of Nanak. Now I’m reminded of what Ralph Waldo Emerson says in his essay “Self-Reliance”:
Every true man is a cause, a country, and an age; requires infinite spaces and numbers and time fully to accomplish his design; —and posterity seem to follow his steps as a train of clients. A man Caesar is born, and for ages after we have a Roman Empire. Christ is born, and millions of minds so grow and cleave to his genius, that he is confounded with virtue and the possible of man. An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man; as, Monachism, of the Hermit Antony; the Reformation, of Luther; Quakerism, of Fox; Methodism, of Wesley; Abolition, of Clarkson. Scipio, Milton called “the height of Rome”; and all history resolves itself very easily into the biography of a few stout and earnest persons.
So Sikhism is the lengthened shadow of Nanak. And, as for the book that my sister shared, the Guru Granth Sahib – as far as I can tell, it is the sacred scripture of the Sikhi (the students or disciples of Nanak’s way). I tried to sleuth out who authored this book, but its history was too convoluted for me to have confidence in what I think I learned. Here’s what I think I learned:
The wisdom taught by Nanak was gathered and preserved by his later disciples in something known as “The First Book” (The Adi Granth). This title makes me wonder “Where’s the Second or Third Book?” But I gather that, in this instance, it might be better to think of “Granth” (“Book”) not as one among many volumes of a series but rather as an edition of a single masterwork; and then the “Guru Granth Sahib” is the next (latest? final?) edition of that same work.
When I hear the word “Guru” I think “Rabbi,” “Teacher,” “Sage,” etc. And I take “Sahib” to mean something like “Lord” or “Sir.” (I’ve already found that “Granth” means “Book.”) So I see Guru Granth Sahib as meaning basically “The Master Book of the Lord.”
Now the obvious question that I’d like to ask my sister is: “Since you and I live here in the colonies of England, where we speak English, then why not just call your scripture The Master Book of the Lord, instead of transliterating the title?” But I guess that she prefers the foreign, exotic sound of Guru Granth Sahib. From a marketing standpoint, that brand must seem more appealing to modern youth. After all, one dines on caviar, not “pickled fish-eggs.”
Yet, more importantly, I now wonder: How does the wisdom of Nanak and his disciples compare to the wisdom of David’s psalms, or Jesus’ parables, or Muhammad’s recitation? I paged thru my sister’s copy of the Guru Granth Sahib (which now I assume was a selection or abridgement rather than the full book), and its contents did not appear alien or uncanny: in fact, what I could glean thru a few first glances felt familiar, even domesticated. I was surprised at how unsurprising it was. It seemed wholly compatible with other scriptures that I know . . . Surely I could find differences in details between the texts, if I were to look closer; but it’s noteworthy, in at least a general sense, how each new spiritual system that I encounter bears a resemblance to the others – and this affinity reminds me less of distinct species than of fraternal twins.
As all men are alike in outward form, So (and with the same infinite variety) all are alike in the Poetic Genius . . .
The Religions of all Nations are derived from each Nation’s different reception of the Poetic Genius . . .
Those statements are from All Religions are One, by William Blake. – Also I love how, in the same essay I quoted earlier, Emerson defines genius as “To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men.”
Now I’m irked by my own instinct, however – I mean, the way I reported my research, here in this entry – I’m frustrated with myself for tediously fixating on the title and other factoids; instead, I wish I had quoted a hearty amount of the actual CONTENTS of the Guru Granth Sahib, so as to contrast them with excerpts from other scriptures. For I’d like to appraise its poetic strength. But now I’m running out of time. Maybe I’ll return to this subject later . . .
(How was Turkey Day for you, by the way? I hope that your dinner party was successful. I hope your green-bean casserole was good; I hope your sweet-potatoes were good; I hope your cranberries were good; I hope your bread was not too hard; and I hope your meat substitute turned out perfectly.)
Note: I skipped mentioning it here, because I plan to give a full account elsewhere; but, just so you know, our family spent a great deal of the evening discussing mom’s relocation adventures.
Finally, at the end of our holiday feast, since we had all talked so much about my mother’s and sister’s individual interests, I decided to try turning the conversation to a subject that is close to my own heart. So I brought up my love for the writers who are considered central to our culture – Shakespeare, Goethe, Victor Hugo, etc. – and I asked my mom and sis if they ever feel any desire to know more about these artists. They both sported blank faces and answered no. This pained my spirit; and I began to question my bearings and reflect inwardly, thinking: “Why do I spend so much energy pursuing the like – why do I myself care?” Yet then a reply came to mind in the form of those famed words from Blake’s Marriage of Heaven and Hell . . .
The worship of God is: Honouring his gifts in other men each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best. Those who envy or calumniate great men hate God, for there is no other God.
So now I leave you with verse 6 from Psalm 46, which precisely summarizes my 2024 Thanksgiving experience:
The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted.
No comments:
Post a Comment