Once there was a gathering of holy men and women
in the courtyard of a south Indian Temple, which was maintained by Namdev,
a great devotee of God. He could and would regularly go into the inner sanctum
and talk intimately with the deity enshrined there.
Meanwhile in the courtyard, Jnanadev (pronounced
yahna-dave), who was something of a rascal, was lining up all the other saints
and sages for a fun game. “We’ll have this potter saint here,” he said,
pointing to an old man leaning against the wall of the temple, “come forward
and thump us all on the head and tell us as he goes along how baked we each
are. The most baked one gets the first piece of cherry pie.” Everyone clapped,
but Namdev, who thought the whole enterprise was frivolous and quite
disrespectful to the sacred presence in the temple and the courtyard.
But he was ignored. And the potter saint began
walking around bunking people on the head with a wooden stick and calling out,
“Two-thirds baked,” “Half-baked;” “Three-fifths baked;” and so on. As the
potter approached, Namdev turned and quickly strode away trailed by
jeers and laughter.
He went into the inner sanctum and poured out his
heart. “How can they joke about things like this?” he said, overcome with
disappointment and humiliation. Then an inner voice spoke to him, saying, My
beloved child, go out of the temple by the rear entrance, into the forest and
out to the three gold hills that you know. There on the third hilltop you will
find a wise one who will reveal everything.
Immediately Namdev ran into the forest,
through the paths he knew and up to the three hills. He passed over the first
and second, then slowly ascended the third gold hill.
At first it seemed no one was there. But when he
looked more carefully he saw a rag-muffin sort of fellow lying on his back in
the grass dozing. As Namdev slowly drew closer, he saw that the man’s
bare feet were propped up on a Shiva-lingam, which is a smooth oval
stone, a form considered by many a most sacred image of the Absolute oneness,
of the divine. One does not even point one’s feet toward such an altar; perhaps
in moments of great devotion, one’s head or hands might touch -– but NEVER
one’s feet.
Quickly Namdev walked over to the Shiva-lingam,
knelt down and ever so gently removed the sleeping man’s feet from the altar,
carefully setting his legs and feet down onto the grass while trying not to
wake him. But lo, immediately under the man’s feet -- there again was another
perfectly beautiful Shiva-lingam. Quickly Namdev knelt and
removed the man’s feet again shifting them the other way. Immediately another Shiva-lingam
was visible under the bare feet of the sleeping one. Namdev put his head
down on the ground next to the Lingam and lifted the sleeper’s feet,
this time setting them gently onto his own head.
At that moment Namdev became one with
everything and everyone. He was overwhelmed with joy and fullness. All the
questions and answers about life he’d ever wondered were sparkling with wisdom
like stars in the night sky.
How long he lay there beside the sleeping man, he never knew. A time came when he did get up and walk back to his own house, where he remained for two days off and on in blissful meditation.
How long he lay there beside the sleeping man, he never knew. A time came when he did get up and walk back to his own house, where he remained for two days off and on in blissful meditation.
At the beginning of the second night there was a
knock at his front door. When Namdev opened the door, there stood the
deity of the temple right at his doorstep. Where have you been, Namdev? You
haven’t come to visit with me for some time.
“Oh, my Lord,” said the saint, “You’re everywhere
always, and I know it. Thank you. Thank you so much. Won’t you please come in
and have some chai.”
