Yesterday there was a procession down the road near where i am staying, and i went out to find hundreds of men dressed in white slowly surging down the thoroughfare, accompanied by intermittent groups of monks. I was told that they were all recipients of some spiritual merit for something they had done. All of them steadily advanced as a colorful band of traditional musicians wildly blared its tunes ahead of them, proceeded by an impromptu troupe of dancing middle aged women. The shuffle of bare feet, the ringing clang of relentless cymbals, and bursts of chanting... and i looked on, distressed that this is what it looks like to try and earn your own salvation. This is what it looks like to spend your whole life trying to be good without the cross.
