During my school days, we had a dedicated class hour called the 'Moral Science Period,' which in my view is an oxymoronic name as there is nothing scientific about being moral.
I attended an all-girls Catholic school, that strangely had the word 'Convent' in its name. It was considered to be one of the best schools in our city.
Every week, the school allocated time to focus on 'Character Training,' as the hour was sometimes known.
Some students opted for the 'Catechism' class to delve deeper into their Catholic or Christian faith, while the rest of us stayed in the regular class.
Our activities during this time varied based on our grade and teacher.
A teacher supervised the class, occasionally instructing us from a textbook of themed stories.
One class, I remember well, is when the teacher asked us to engage in groups. We formed small groups where seated, and in my group, the conversation somehow turned to Hindu Gods!
One of the girls, who was of the Christian faith, presented a specific story and asked, "How can a God not know what is happening? Isn’t He Omniscient? How could he not know this fact1 in the story?”
As evident from my various posts, Hindu mythology often taxes the mind! The particular story she questioned warrants its own post.
Despite our group’s attempts to provide answers, she remained steadfast in her objections, driven by dogmas, rather than attempting to understand.
We were just kids, ill-equipped for such profound debates.
Frustrated with her unwillingness to engage openly, I suggested moderation to the teacher. To my surprise, the teacher shrugged and refused to interfere, encouraging me to continue as before. It felt like a cop-out, so I gave up.
Yet, my classmate's question lingered, prompting me to wonder how I would answer it today.
But first, it may help if I walk you through a childhood memory.
I often accompanied my paternal grandmother to the local temple for evening events known as the telling of the ‘Puranas.’
The Puranas, are an ancient collection of stories of Hindu mythology that describe lore, rituals, morals, and devotion to God.
These stories intertwine the lives of humans, saints, and the Divine, depicting duty, love, war, responsibility, good, and evil in fantastical worlds with flying chariots, speaking animals, and myriad fantasy elements.
Organized when a Swamiji (saint) or scholar visited, the events aimed to share the wisdom of scriptures with a more general populace.
The speaker, in these sessions mostly attended by older adults, would captivate the crowd with creative storytelling, and reading Sanskrit verses with explanations in the local language.
Sometimes, he would sing the verses, accompanied by music, and occasionally, wave a special musical hand-held instrument with bells to emphasize key points.
Alternatively, the speaker would modulate his voice and tone, raising it to make a point or assume the role of a character, gesturing at his captive audience for vocal affirmations.
The stories of ancient India have been shared orally in this fashion for centuries!
However, if the speaker had uncertain oratorial skills, some of the group's attention would wander, and gossip would ensue until they were shushed by more devout listeners.
When she learned of these week-long sessions, my grandmother would decide to attend on certain days. I was always ready and eager for adventure whenever she asked me to accompany her.
She would finish the evening’s household chores, including dinner preparations, and dress in her preferred saree. Our journey to the temple involved a walk to the top of the lane, where our house stood, to catch a five-minute rickshaw ride.
We would wait for a manual rickshaw, and when it arrived, my grandma, would simply inform the driver, “I’ll pay 50 paise (cents), will you come or not?”
I was always awed by her manner of insisting on the fare. More often than not, the rickshaw driver would relent, perhaps due to her age and my youth, or in sympathy.
Upon reaching the temple, we would pay our respects to the main deity and settle down at the back of the seated large crowd.
These sessions exposed me to fantastic stories, and if I was puzzled by them, I would seek an explanation from my Grandma afterward.
To a child, reading and listening to magical stories were synonymous.
In this world of mythology, faith meant finding solace in the profound truths embedded in fantastical narratives and internalizing moral lessons.
Questioning the nature of God or the abundance of deities was irrelevant—there was magic, happy endings, and, most importantly, life unfolded in real-time with Grandma, not behind a notebook at home.
What could be more enjoyable?
In other instances, as an adult living in the United States, I encountered a common question "Why does Hinduism have a million Gods?"
For those wondering about this as well, here’s an explanation: Hindu scriptures and saints speak of an ultimate reality called Brahman, a singular formless Reality (gender-neutral) that pervades the Universe. To help humans grasp this abstract concept, God adopts forms, enabling them to pursue a spiritual path that is easier to follow.
When humans realize their spiritual Self (i. e. achieve enlightenment) they understand the reality of Brahman as formless, timeless, and all-pervasive.
Western philosophers have attempted to translate this concept as well.
Author Gavin Flood, in his book, ‘Introduction to Hinduism,’ summarizes it as below:
“The concept of Brahman … to be the "essence, the smallest particle of the cosmos and the infinite universe", the "essence of all things which cannot be seen, though it can be experienced", the "Self within each person, each being", the "truth", the "reality", the "absolute", the "bliss" (ananda).”
For those puzzled by how God, portrayed as Omniscient, could appear as unknowing in mythological stories, I suggest embracing the idea that that is accepted by most: it is a Divine play—an illusion crafted for a Divine purpose and to convey deeper truths to humans. God has no reason to explain anything, or so, the scriptures claim.
No one knows what the truth is unless you have direct experience of it. As with any religion and mythology, faith and experience matter more than rationality.
If you are an atheist or agnostic, then Richard Dawkins’s book, ‘The God Delusion,’ may seem more appealing.
If all else fails, you can simply believe as Hamlet does,
"There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
If interested, a simple Google search will unveil various Indian spiritual masters and texts. However, be warned: it is an ocean, swim at your risk!
The story she referred to is shared below: Origin of the Elephant-God, Ganesha. “If Shiva is omniscient, why did he not know Ganesha was his son?”
In rural Kentucky in the 1970s, we likewise had special assemblies where traveling performers would put on juggling demonstrations or puppet shows. Usually there was some sort of moral lesson embedded. That was how I first saw Pinnochio, as my family did not go to movies.
More often, Christian missionaries would stop by during class (in complete violation of all separation of church and state laws) to tell Bible stories. These were never presented as "stories," but always as the absolute and literal truth, like a history of the world class. Questions were not encouraged.
Love this!
Flying chariots--vimana
I went to Catholic school too- co-ed, through 11th grade (standard) when, sigh, the high school closed down.