Re-posted from Beth Cavete
The other day, I heard a beautiful worship song. It was penned by a brilliant songwriter, known the world over. It displayed the poignancy that brilliant songwriting does, that seemingly casual ability to hit on a tune so simple as to be unforgettable, and yet somehow so superior that most of us could never come with anything half as good. It was gorgeous.
Its lyrics were intimate and personal, and yet so unpretentious. They called out, “My sweet Lord, my sweet Lord…” with a humble and heartfelt yearning, real praise and a sense of adoration. That phrase was repeated over and over, and then the yearning expanded with a real cry, “I really want to know you!
I really want to be with you! I really want to see you!” Not much more to it, that was the bulk of the song, repeating the simple phrases of love and longing over and over.
Toward the end, the writer finally introduced a new phrase, as the song entered the sort of ecstatic climax so familiar to our generation of church-goers and/or pop musicians. That new phrase, calling out the name that was so to be praised, was this, “Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!” The song was, “My Sweet Lord,” by George Harrison of the Beatles, in adoration of his savior and guru, Krishna. George’s life at the time was a melee of music, hindu spirituality, (including yoga and meditation) psychedelic drugs, and sexual infidelity. He was truly devoted to his lord, and believed with all his heart. So much so that he had his ashes scattered in rivers in India at his death. He was a real proponent of unity, saying, ”All religions are branches of one big tree. It doesn’t matter what you call Him just as long as you call.”
Read the full original post here – The Sensual Invasion – Beth Cavete
