the monk

I was walking in the mall with a friend last month when we walked by a young man holding a stack of small books. I was expecting a typical salesman trying to overcharge me on something I’d never use, but his appearance caught my eye. He had ragged clothes, made to be worn for days on end. It’d clearly been a while since he shaved. When he looked our way and said, “How’re you guys doing?”, I noticed a genuine happiness and sincerity in his smile. I stopped my friend and began talking to him.

He introduced himself as a traveling monk from Florida, who was spreading the word of yoga and Krishna consciousness. He handed me two books, both by the famous Indian guru A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada and asked about us and Houston.

I recognized Prabhupada’s name from a book I’d read and questioned the monk about it. His face lit up as he realized that a random person he stopped knew about the guru. He and I talked for 5–10 minutes (much to his delight) about his travels, his society, and what little I knew about Hindu tradition. I took the books and contributed some money for his endeavors. He seemed genuinely overjoyed that someone was interested in what he had to say.

I saw his joy. For a fleeting second, I saw God in his words and his smile. Central’s creed asks if certainty is necessary for faith. Pastor Michael often talks about his meditation practices. A rabbi comes by almost every Sunday.

Central taught me that God is infused in everything and everyone. While we as Christians find spiritual worth in church and the Gospels, to say that God (or a desire to know Him) isn’t also present in mosques, statues of Krishna, and meditation is, in a way, saying He isn’t in the hearts of those who seek Him.

Looking back, I realized that, had I never come to Central, I more than likely would have engaged in small talk, politely denied the books, and gone on my way. Maybe I would have simply walked by without making eye contact.

Because of Central, I saw his smile.