Lucky Buddha

(We're playing catch up here, as we haven't had much Internet access ... but I'll be posting a few reflections and working on posting some pictures soon! Thanks everyone!)

"How did you get here? You must be very lucky."

Lucky indeed.

A morning of headstrong wayward travels via tuk-tuk, negotiated by broken English and a hint of pristine ego led us on an adventure through Bangkok. Early on I understood the scam in play - if we could be convinced to look, or better yet buy, at the stores our drivers casually drove us past, they would then be compensated with coupons for petrol (the rising cost of which we all share both burden and disdain).

I couldn't blame them. Everything I'd ever read or heard indicated that our drivers were only one of thousands of men working to support their families in the nearby slum villages. So I didn't mind too much being hasseled. I take advantage of resources and privileges that I didn't earn - rather, that I was just "lucky" enough to be born into - each and every day of my life. So what if my, our, playing the novice and naieve helped a struggling tuk-tuk driver catch a break?

It was a little too much too soon, through. Hot, tired, and frustrated, our group obliged briefly before we all caught on. At any rate, we found ourselves, after having just had a discussion of how we chose not to enter or casually peruse religious sites not our own, doing just that -- being driven around to various temples and shrines of Buddha. One in particular, known as "Lucky Buddha."

"Lucky Buddha"'s outer court was nondescript. Through two small doors, we could just make out the form of the oversized gold-leafed Buddha laying peacefully on his side, the lucid flames from incense offerings dancing across his sacred belly. One lone dedicant knealt on the deep burgundy carpet, reciting prayers at Buddha's feet. The statue took up the entirety of the narrow space.

We had no idea where we were. That is when our local guide found us. Curious as to such strange-looking visitors deep in the heart of Bangkok, he asked first if we were Buddhists. We gently shook our heads "no." Now even more piqued at our hodge-podge of pilgrims, he inquired further, shocked that we were completely ignorant of the ground upon which we stood.

According to our eager informant, we were at one of the most sacred sites in all of Thailand. I again glanced around hesitantly at the secluded ordinariness of our location. Apparently, "Lucky Buddha" is only open on one, occasionally two days each year. That week, thousands of monks and pilgrims had traveled to offer prayers and thanksgivings to the Buddha who, so calmly reclined, could bring them closer to good fortunes and the kind of nirvana we are all guilty of associating them with.

Not only were we dumbfounded tourists in the presence of rare opportunity - we had paid very little to get here, and were worthy of deep envy from even the most devout of followers.

"You must be very lucky."

I wouldn't call it luck. But, I was honored. Even in the midst of "working us" to earn coupons, our taxi drivers had arranged our alighting upon such a holy place. The frustration and simply annoyance at being taken to see something so unimportant for our faith (like, a big ol' golden Buddha), was understandably too much for some. At the next site, we abruptly abandoned our tuk-tuks, who refused to comply with our wishes to simply return home.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sacredness, blessing, honor, and in the Buddhist tradition, "luck," at our finding Buddha. For Buddhists, this was a jewel in a crown. And for me, a Christian, this was a point of entry into a people and a land that I have not known. A rare, real glimpse into the life, love, and tradition of those I seek to know as my neighbors. A moment to realize the grace and sacred reality hidden behind the nondescript facades of the slums, the brothels, the sites of oppression that I was here to engage. If we were willing to peer into the heart of such dark places, and give room for our eyes to adjust, we might be able to make out the form of Christ illuminated by the dancing flames of love and hope, service and sacrifice, heart and humanity, all unearthed from a broken existence.

Perhaps we, too, could sense in our temple encounter the significance of a most sacred, most holy treasure, resting before us, even if we were not yet "enlightened" to know, or fully see, what was before our very eyes. That the steps our feet traced throughout southeast Asia were indeed treading upon holy ground.

Lucky Buddha. I am not Buddhist, or Buddish, or anything related.

But, I do Believe.

To be in this place - right here, right now - is divine appointment. Beyond planning. Beyond coordination. Beyond what my eyes can see. To be in this place - right here, right now - is to find treasure in clay jars, in earthen vessels. To be in this place - right here, right now - is a pure gift. And as the doors to Buddha were opened as if just for us, Lord, I pray that You would open the doors to Your heart just for us this summer. May we not most this moment. May we not hesitate to be drawn into Your love. May we not fail to marvel at Your beauty.

We are very lucky. Lucky indeed.

(from Amey's journal, June 20)