Community

After the Maha Kirtan had officially finished, kirtaniyas from Sydney and Melbourne, who met for the first time in Canberra, continued doing kirtan until late into the night. Here are a few moments that I managed to grab with my camera.

Recently a proposal, developed in conjunction with a significant representation of our local Brisbane community, was submitted to the Australian GBC.

As a measure of transparency and accountability, the proposal and the GBC's response to the proposal are being published here; along with video and audio from the recent Community Meeting where the proposal and the response were presented.

Here is the text of the proposal:

• Proposal to GBC

Here is the text of the GBC response:

• Response to proposal from GBC

We have video and audio recordings of the presentations that were given, but audio only of the Questions and Discussion (the video camera battery ran out). The first question in the Questions and Discussion audio is the challenge, so you don't need to listen too far into that to get some controversy ;-). See below for the audio and video. Transcriptions are underway.

Here is the audio of the Community Meeting:

• 1. Introduction - Krishnapada das
• 2. Sitapati das
• 3. Sakhi-rai das
• 4. Murari Hari das
• 5. Questions and Discussion

Here are the videos of the Community Meeting:

On opensource.com, Jason Hibbets writes about a recent keynote address at Drupalcon, "Open Source in Government", by Dave Cole, Senior Advisor to the CIO of the Executive Office of the President of the United States. Drupalcon is a conference for developers and users of Drupal, an open source Content Management System that is used to drive websites, including whitehouse.gov. Drupal is available for free, and is open source software.

It's no secret that the Obama administration is about change. I think it's safe to say, one of the main philosophies of this administration is that change coming from the bottom up is embraced rather than smothered.

Cole said:

Change comes from the bottom-up. Ordinary people get together to achieve extraordinary things. In political advocacy we called it community organizing. Here in development, we call it open source. I think that's the fit.

Hibbets goes on to explain:

This mentality directly aligns with principles of the open source way like sharing, meritocracy, and community. Bottom-up initiatives, like community organizing, aren't new concepts. This approach is embraced because it's more effective than top-down directives. The participants who opt into community-organized initiatives are more passionate, committed, and driven.

One way this change is happening is with more transparency. The whitehouse.gov site runs on Drupal, an open source content management system, and provides a platform with user features like a briefing room, blogs, special features, and live video. Cole rhetorically asked what Drupal can do for government. The response: It's helping to drive the open government and open data movements because the nature of open source fits nicely with open government initiatives like being more transparent to citizens.

Atmayogi.com is powered by Drupal.

After two months of preaching and fundraising in the United States, I was ready for a break, so when Swarup Damodar dasa, president of the Durban temple in South Africa, asked me to come in April for Ratha-yatra, I jumped at the chance.

After checking in for my flight at the Atlanta Airport, I was walking to the boarding gate when I passed a group of young marines. "Hey, pretty boy!" one called out. "Where you off to?"

I turned toward him. "Pretty boy?" I said.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he said. "I mean the dress. It's just awesome." The other marines broke out laughing.

I walked over to where they were sitting. "These are my robes, soldier," I said. "I'm a monk."

Another marine laughed. "A monk?" he said. "In a pink sheet?"

"Is this is how they train you boys?" I shot back. "You're part of an elite
fighting force, serving one of the greatest countries in the world."

"Huh!" sneered a marine. "What do you know about serving your country?" he said with a thick southern accent.

I glared at him. "First Battalion," I said, "Alpha Company, Platoon 2066. I graduated from Camp Pendleton on March 16, 1969."

"Really?" one of them said. "Did you fight in 'Nam?"

"No," I said. "I was sick when my unit shipped out. All the boys in my platoon were wiped out in an ambush their first week in combat. I received further training stateside and became an instructor."

The boy who first called out to me was about to say something when another marine stopped him. "Leave him alone, Mark," he said. "He did his time."

The others nodded in agreement.

I turned to Mark. "This is what you're fighting for, leatherneck," I said.

"Democracy means to have a choice. We can choose our leaders, our ideals, and our religion. I choose Krsna consciousness."

"My cousin is a Hare Krsna," said one of the boys. "I know a little bit about your beliefs. One of the first guys in your religion was a soldier. He fought on a huge battlefield."

I smiled. "Arjuna," I said.

"Yeah, that's his name," said the boy.

I sat down. "I have a student who's a Marine and has served two tours in Iraq," I said.

"We're off to Afghanistan next month," said one of the boys as they gathered around me.

"What's your student's name?" said another.

"Captain Anthony Alexander," I said. "He's a commanding officer with three hundred men under him in Communications Company, First Marine Division."

"What's he like?" said one of the marines.

"Like Arjuna," I said.

The boy put his hand up in a high-five gesture, which I met with my own hand. I looked at my watch. "Sorry boys," I said, "but I gotta go."

"Hey," said one of them, "stay a little longer,"

"My flight leaves in twenty minutes," I said as I got up. "Keep your heads down over there."

As I walked away, Mark ran up and put out his hand. "Sorry, sir," he said. "I was disrespectful."

I shook his hand tightly. "No problem, soldier," I said. "Semper Fi!"

The Marine who knew about Arjuna waved. "Hare Krsna, sir!" he called out.

Sixteen hours later, I arrived in Johannesburg and caught a connecting flight to Durban, where I was met by a small group of devotees. "How are the preparations for Ratha-yatra going?" I asked Swarup Damodar.

"Very good," he said. "Thanks for coming."

"I needed the break," I said, but I knew I would not get much of a break during the festival.

As we walked out of the airport, I noticed a lot of advertising for the upcoming Soccer World Cup.

"Looks like South Africa's gone all out for the Cup," I said. "Is everything ready?"

"Pretty much," said Swarup. "Of course, there's always the issue of crime. South Africa has a very high rate of murder, rape, and assault. There's a lot more here than in most countries."

"Will that affect the decision of foreigners to come for the Cup?" I said.

"I don't think so," he said. "This year they're expecting sixteen million tourists. Statistics show that most crime happens among South Africans. If tourists are targeted, it's usually just petty theft.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "many of our devotees have experienced some type of crime or another - burglary, carjacking, theft, or the like. One family had a very close call just two days ago."

"What was that about?" I said.

"A sophisticated, well-coordinated gang of criminals posing as policemen pulled a devotee over on his way home from work," Swarup began. "They were brandishing high-caliber firearms. They said he was being investigated for fraud and they needed to search his home. They handcuffed him, put him in their vehicle and drove him to his home.

"When they got there, other criminals, also posing as police officers, were waiting outside. They took him into his house and quickly tied up his mother, his sister, and her six-month-old baby. Then they began ransacking the house looking for cash, jewelry, and firearms. When they found nothing they threatened to kill the whole family if they didn't say where they kept
their valuables.

"The devotee man said they didn't store valuables in the house and pleaded for their lives. The crooks pointed their guns at the family and put a plastic bag over the baby's head. Meanwhile, the leader continued searching the rooms when he came across the family altar with pictures of Srila Prabhupada, Krsna, and Lord Caitanya.

"He shouted to the others, 'Don't harm them. They're Hare Krsna devotees. They feed our people in the townships. They give our children food. Put down your weapons.'

"One of the gang took the plastic bag off the baby's head and slapped his back to get him breathing again. The leader then ordered the others to leave, and he said, 'Put back whatever you've taken.'

"On their way out the gang dumped a few watches, several appliances, and assorted coins on the floor. As the leader stepped through the front door, he turned and said, 'Sorry. We didn't know who you were.' Moments later they sped away in their cars.

"Our Food for Life program has been distributing prasada in the impoverished areas around Durban for more than twenty years. It's much appreciated by the poor Africans. What do you think, Maharaja?"

I nodded. "Yes," I said. "Srila Prabhupada had the perfect vision when he started prasada distribution in the early 1970s. He called it Lord Caitanya's secret weapon."

"Actually," Swarup said, "the Food for Life team was hoping you'd go out with them while you're here."

"It'd be an honor and a pleasure," I said.

"You'll have a police escort," he said.

"Is that necessary? I said. "I thought the Africans liked us."

"Most of them do," he said, "but there is always the criminal element. And they may not always be as accommodating as those who tried to rob that devotee's house. Two of our congregation members were murdered in similar burglaries."

Three days later as the Food for Life team loaded big pots of freshly cooked prasada into a van, a police constable picked me up in his squad car. Minutes later we all took off to pass out prasadam in rural Kwazulu-Natal, home to almost nine million Zulus.

"Thanks for coming along," I said to the constable.

"Paul's my name," he said, putting out his hand. "It's a pleasure."

He looked at the large Canon EOS camera hanging around my neck. "You'll need me," he said, "if only for that fancy camera you're carrying."

"Yes," I said. "It does stick out a bit." I squirmed a little.

"Don't you worry," Paul said.

I looked him over. I could see I had nothing to fear. He was a tall black African in his forties, and he looked as strong as an ox. Hanging from his belt were a handgun, two cans of mace, and a pair of handcuffs. On the panel behind his head rested a shotgun, locked and loaded.

I couldn't take my eyes off the little armory. "Do you ever use that stuff?" I said.

"All the time," he said without taking his eyes off the road.

My eyes turned to a wide, six-inch scar on his forearm. "Where did you get that?" I said.

Paul smiled. "All in a day's work," he said.

An hour later, we turned off the highway onto a winding road into the Valley of a Thousand Hills, and another half hour later we came to a picturesque but rundown village.

"There's a lot of criminal activity out here," Paul said. "They'll use an AK 47 assault rifle to rob a store for a few packs of cigarettes."

Just then his police radio starting crackling. Paul listened carefully and shook his head. "There's a robbery taking place at this very moment," he said, "just three hundred meters ahead."

I felt my throat tighten. "Are we going there?" I said.

"No," he said calmly. "We never go in alone. There has to be at least three of us in a squad car. Even then we have to assess the situation. If they have superior firepower, which they often do, we hold off."

A hundred meters before the scene of the crime, we drove up to a small group of houses. There were just a few people milling around. As soon as we stopped, a devotee jumped out of the van and picked up a megaphone. "Prasada!" Prasada! Prasada!" he called out.

Suddenly people began pouring out of the houses, even running from the other end of the village. Children were running along the street with cups, bowls, plates, and even pots.

The kids smiled and laughed as they pushed and shoved their way into a long line waiting for the distribution to start. Then the devotees piled out of the van with drums and karatalas and began a kirtana. All the Zulu children started dancing and singing along.

My eyes opened wide. "They even know the words!" I said.

Paul was looking over the crowd and the surrounding area to see if there was trouble. He turned to me. "And why not?" he replied. "You people were passing out this food and singing this song to their parents when they themselves were youngsters."

Pandemonium broke out as the devotees started distributing the stew of rice, beans, and vegetables. I saw a number of children get their bowls filled and then immediately return to the back of the line. I smiled as I watched them eat all the way up to the front and then present their empty bowls for more. Some came three or four times.

Paul kept his eye on the crowd and his hand on his gun. "This is an especially bad area," he said. "A few months ago I chased a criminal into the bush in the next village. He suddenly jumped out just two meters in front of me and fired off four rounds at point-blank range."

"What happened? I said.

Paul chuckled. "He missed," he said.

Then his face became serious. "But it wasn't luck," he said. "It was the Lord above watching over me."

"So you're a religious man," I said.

Paul smiled. "Yes sir, I am," he said. "Every time I go into action, I look up at the sky and say to the Lord, 'Cover me.'"

"That's very nice, constable," I said.

"It's the only explanation for why I'm still here today," he said. "I know that for a fact."

A group of young men started walking toward me. "Watch your camera," Paul said looking over the valley. "We do what we can out here, but these people are very poor, so crime is always on the rise. Not many folks take the risk to come here and help them like you do.

"Nowadays it's gotten so bad the villagers take justice into their ownhands. When they catch a thief or a drug runner, they tie him to a telephone pole and beat him to death. Then they place all his weapons around him on the ground. Nobody dares take those weapons."

"Tell me," I said, "when you're out here, do you always get your man? Do they ever get away?"

"Sometimes they get away in the bush," he said, motioning toward the thick foliage surrounding the village. "When that happens we call in the dog squad. The criminals are terrified of our dogs, so they try to shoot the animals from where they're hiding. That's when we go in and arrest them. But it doesn't always work."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Last week I was heading into the bush to get a man when suddenly I bumped into a beehive," he said. "Within moments the bees were all around me and stung me from head to toe. The guy got away, and I spent a few days in the hospital."

Two hours later the devotees packed the empty prasada containers into the van and jumped in with their musical instruments. Only when everyone was inside did Paul indicate that we could get back in the squad car. Soon we were winding our way down the hill to the main highway.

"They love you folks out here," Paul said. "I heard you've given out three thousand plates of food every day for many years. One day it will all pay off."

"It already has," I said, thinking of the gang who had spared the devotee
family.

"Anytime you guys need my service just give me a call," Paul said as we turned onto the highway. "I'm always happy to do my part."

"Thank you, constable," I said.

An hour later, as we neared the temple, Paul turned to me. "Sir," he said, "do you mind if I ask, what is the meaning of that song you all sing out there? You know, the Hare Krsna one?"

I thought for a moment. "It means 'Cover me,'" I said.

Paul smiled from ear to ear.

That evening I remembered something Nelson Mandela had said when he spoke at a large Food For Life gathering many years ago:

"Another important building block for new democracy is the love and good
will we show to each other. That is the spirit of masakhane, of bringing one another together. It is also the spirit of today's festival organized by Hare Krsna Food for Life."

Indradyumna.swami@pamho.net
www.travelingmonk.com
Audio lectures: www.narottam.com
Facebook: Indradyumna Swami

This is the fifth post in my series on Building a Krishna Conscious "Mega Church". See also the previously published Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.

Note: Since I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, I've been thinking about various programs that we are doing here in different venues. In the case of the temple I think Children is Function 2 after sound. In the case of the Sunday Feast and Krishnafest at our house I think that Presentations is Function 2. This doesn't mean that one is more important than the other, it's just the order of implementation. In the case of the Sunday Feast, for example, Presentations is a low-hanging fruit. On the other hand there are not facilities for easily spinning up a Children's Program there. In the case of the temple, there are plenty of children, and potential facilities for a Children's Program, so there it's both easier, and a greater imperative.

Also, someone mentioned a kitchen in response to an earlier post, the one about Sound. I have put a kitchen in a separate category of functions, and we'll come back to it later. OK, on with today's show...

Function 2 - Children

I'm going to go out on a limb here and put Children as function 2, rather than Presentations. In places like Gaura Yoga [website] and the Loft [website] in New Zealand they focus on Sound and Presentations, and have no facility for children. That works fine as center for young, single people. But eventually those young, single people are going to become married couples with children, so they will need some facility.

That doesn't mean that Gaura Yoga and the Loft will have to transform, but the organization will have to build out its capability to service those needs in some facility.

Personally, in working within an existing community, I'm focusing on sound first, then children second, rather than presentations.

My friend Krishnapada put it like this: "If McDonalds have facilities for children I think we should too".

Think about this. Let's say that you have a facility to which 400 adults and youths will come at a time. Let's say that half of them are married couples. So that's 200 people, or 100 couples. Let's say that on average they have 1 child - some will have none, some will have two or three. That's 100 children for 400 people.

Of course you could have a facility that is not child-friendly, but that's hardly making it easy, is it?

Here are two other points:

1. People sometimes ask me why I am so enthusiastic in Krishna Consciousness. It's simple. When I was a kid my mother raised me reading the Bible, and then sent me every weekend and every school holiday to a Bible camp, school holiday program, or youth group event, where they poured resources, attention, and intention into the program and the children on it. If you want to influence the value structure of a generation of devotees then you have to look after the kids. If you want to keep recruiting first generation devotees who were raised as atheists, then don't worry about them.

2. If you want parents to come back, then you provide something for their kids. McDonalds understand this. Krishnapada told me that his 4 year old son Shyam points to McDonalds and says: "I want to go there", just from seeing it from the outside - he's never been in. It's so attractive. McDonalds understands: get the kids, and you get the parents. Now, if you can give the children a valuable formative experience based on solid moral principles and values, what parent is going to say no to that?

For children's facilities you actually need more personnel, energy, money, and planning than you do for the adults. Children require more diversity of activities and facilities. You cannot put 400 children together in a big room for an hour and deliver one experience for them all. They need to be segregated and provided with an age-appropriate experience.

At Buckhead Community Church, which has facility for 3000 adults, they have one auditorium for the adults, and four floors of facilities for the children.

Each of those floors contains age-appropriate facilities for children from toddlers through to teenagers. On the first floor for the younger children they have a small stage/auditorium area where they do a Wiggles-type presentation [wikipedia article on the Wiggles], before splitting the children into groups in rooms where they play with toys and do other activities. In this way they have both a large group experience and a small group experience each week.

You can see a bunch of pictures and a video that I took of the young children's facilities when I visited this church in 2007 here.

At Buckhead, which is one of Andy Stanley's churches, along with Northpoint Community Church, they understand that people have different needs at each phase of life, for example, as a child, as a new believer, as a newly-wed, as an adult, as a father, etc. They distill this down to three essential messages that they repeat the these people over and over again in a variety of ways. For the youngest children it boils down to: "God Loves Me. God Made Me. Jesus Wants to Be My Friend For Ever".

Taking a cue from this, each year since he turned 5, I've taught Prahlad an additional prayer that we recite each night before sleeping. We now recite four prayers together (actually 5, because I also taught him Our Lord's Prayer from the Bible). In these prayers I have encapsulated what I discern as the essential devotional philosophical underpinnings that are most appropriate for him to imbibe at that time.

The Maha Kirtan for Kids program [poster | program] here on September 13 is the beginning of this. We've got the sound system to a certain level now, and it's time to put some energy into our program for the children.

The current temple design that we are working with has zero, as in no facility for children. It's based on a design for a bunch of single people to cram into an ashram and go out until they flame out.

A purpose-designed facility has sufficient spaces to facilitate age-appropriate programs for the number of children who come based on the number of adults who are facilitated. The program that goes on in that facility needs to dedicate sufficient resources as in personnel and money to that program to make it work.

For the older youths there is a section upstairs, as mentioned previously, with their own sound system and stage, and also break out rooms for small group discussions. It's an expanded version of a Loft preaching center, like Gaura Yoga or the Loft in New Zealand.

Conclusion: Invest heavily in children's facilities and programming.

Next: Function 3 - Presentations.

This is the fifth post in my series on Building a Krishna Conscious "Mega Church". See also the previously published Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Function 1 - Sound

The first function that the facility has to facilitate (that's why it's called a facility - it's a form that makes a particular function easy) is the chanting of the Holy Name.

The environment must be designed around sound vibration - after all, this movement is meant to be all about sound. Forget about turning to India for state-of-the-art sound design. You can get your subject matter from there, but delivery is a Western contribution.

The main space has to be acoustically designed. This is a science, but it's not rocket science. Auditoriums are tuned for sound. The space needs to be designed from the get go for acoustics, or it needs to be repurposed with acoustic materials, such as baffles and acoustic panels.

Next, it needs to be wired for sound. The model here is any environment which is purposed for sound, such as an auditorium, a concert hall, a nightclub, etc. There needs to be a multicore running down the length of the facility, either under the floor on in the wall. A multicore is a huge snake cable with thirty or forty cables inside it.

You need a massive mixing desk, multi-band graphic eq for the room, compressors and multi-effects units, and a number of wireless rigs. Sound is what it's all about.

The thing about technology, and this is from years of personal experience, is that there is a sweet spot that you have to reach to take advantage of it. Before you get to that sweet spot the technology creates as much interference as it does benefit. Let me give you some examples: When your microphones keep feeding back, or the cable malfunctions unless it's held at an angle, or the output of your power amp doesn't scale sufficiently, your technology gets in the way as much as facilitates. When you lay down the bucks and have a graphic eq, noise gate, a compressor, and a wireless hypercardioid mic, all that goes away, and all you get is the crisp, clear sound of the message, with no distraction by the medium. When your singers can't hear themselves and strain to sing and miss notes, when your mrdanga player can't hear what's going on and misses a change, when there is too much treble in the sound reinforcement and not enough power (bass), when the sound distribution is uneven (loud at the front and inaudible at the back), when there are speakers or ugly stands between the people and the kirtan party, technology is not helping you. When you lay down the bucks and mount speakers out of line of sight at front and back with a 180 degree phase difference, with distributed subwoofers, and provide foldback for the performers with in-ear monitors with dedicated mixes, then all that goes away and all you get is the experience of the kirtan, with no distraction by the medium.

You have to spend big on this to make it happen, and when you do, the results are awesome. No-one but the most observant goes away saying: "Wow, did you see that they were using in-ear monitors?" The technology has reached the sweet spot and become transparent. They just go away saying: "That was the best kirtan ever!" If you introduce a low level of technology then people will notice it. They'll go away complaining about the microphone or the sound.

The facility needs a dedicated sound mixing area and sound engineers. I visited Buckhead Community Church in Atlanta, Georgia, where I participated in their morning worship service (you can check out my photos and videos of the opening service here). They had two engineers working a desk halfway back in the auditorium. Basically the design there was like any number of dedicated auditoriums that I played in in bands as a teenager. In a tour of the facility afterwards I was shown an area on the third floor where the youth have their own worship service with their own band. They had their own stage, own PA system with mixing console (all smaller than the main one, but much more developed than ISKCON temple I've seeen), and their own lighting rig.

I got my start in audio engineering at the Sandringham Baptist Church on end of my block on Mt Albert Rd in Auckland, New Zealand. The church sound man, Clem, gave a number of training sessions for interested persons in the congregation, to develop a sustained sound engineering capability for the church. When you see me rolling cables using that particular technique, that's his training.

Now you can say: well, there is no way that we can do all that. But guess what: it can be done, and I'm going to prove it.

A Culture of Music

Above I mentioned getting the subject matter for the sound. Of course, any sound system is going to be worthless without something to put through it. A zero amplified even a million times is still zero. Something out of time and out of tune just sounds worse when it's miked up.

In order to field a powerful experience for people, it's necessary to have a vibrant culture of music. This takes investment of resources - time, energy, and money.

Where you spend your money and time is where you will see growth. Creating a long-term culture of music takes short to medium term investment with no immediate return.

Quality instruments need to be purchased and maintained. Events and artists need to be sponsored. Cultural exchange needs to take place. Seminars need to be held.

Australia's biggest Christian megachurch, Hillsong [website], started life in 1983 as Hills Christian Life Centre. In 1986 they started an annual music conference, called Hillsong. By the early 90s this music conference had reached a stage of momentum where CDs were released. These CDs became wildly popular and the church rebranded itself as "Hillsong", since that was what they were known for.

When I visited Buckhead Community Church in Atlanta, Georgia in 2007 I met with the music director, a hip young guy in jeans carrying an electric guitar. When I told him I was visiting from Australia he revealed that he and three other members of the church band had just returned from a visit to Hillsong.

Conclusion: Invest in sound.

Tomorrow: Function 2 - Children.

This is the fourth post in my series on Building a Krishna Conscious "Mega Church". Part 1 can be found here, Part 2 can be found here, and Part 3 can be found here.

Functions of a Krishna Consciousness Facility

I'm going to add a note in here, in response to the feedback that has been coming in about this series so far.

I mentioned earlier that I had let part of this series escape via Twitter. What I said there was: "I don't want a building that looks Indian. I'll take one designed for sound, kids, parking, and presentations, thanks".

I followed that up shortly afterward, after a bit more thought, with: "of course, if it has all that, I don't really mind what it looks like #functionbeforeform"

The point is not to say that "making something look or feel Indian" is wrong. The point is that this is not the exclusive, or even primary consideration; and if this if this is the only or primary conception of function, and other functions are neglected, then don't be surprised by the outcome that such a design produces.

It's important to remember that this is a discussion about function, and thence emergent form. Merely discussing form without a deep consideration of function will lead to a superficial analysis, and an inability to make any real difference.

That's my note. Thanks for the feedback, keep it coming in. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I'm not going to go into a deep discussion about the different factors that lead me to these conclusions. Many people have their opinion, and they are welcome to them. Mainly these have been inspired by studying deep, multi-year success stories, so if you want to change my opinion, have some of those ready, or be prepared to hold you opinion strongly enough to make one.

Function 0: Parking

The zeroth function (in the sense of a precondition for the first) that the facility has to facilitate (you see where that word comes from now?) is parking. If you are expecting/want people to come, then you have to facilitate that. Take a look at any shopping center, any amusement park, any concert venue. They want people to come, they facilitate that - they make it easy.

You can get away without parking facilities, but really you want to make it easy, right? That's why you're building a facility - to facilitate certain functions. The most basic one is for people to come.

Tomorrow: Function 1 - Sound.

This is the third post in my series on Building a Krishna Conscious "Mega Church". Part 1 can be found here, and Part 2 can be found here.

A Brief Analysis of ISKCON Temple Design

Let's look now at ISKCON temple design.

Any discussion of the form of a temple design obviously requires a discussion of the function of an ISKCON temple, because one implies the other.

Let me just do two things here.

First of all, if you read anything on the Internet, you'll have read people complaining that ISKCON temples today are filled with expatriate and descendent Indian congregations, and have very few people from the native population of the host country. True? Anecdotally, and from my observation also.

Part of this may be due to the design of the temple. Allow me a flight of fantasy here. The envisioned functionality of the temple is: "Let's make something that looks really Vedic", where Vedic means Indian. In the 70s, when teenagers and youths were looking for something exotic and Indian, having the most authentic Indian-looking temple was the most effective way to attract them. In the 21st century when authentic Indian is no longer such a strong draw card, that form remains attractive to expatriate and culturally Indian persons.

In support of this idea, my second thing. Let me tell a story. It comes from, by memory, Srila Prabhupada Lilamrita. Someone may be able to provide the reference.

The devotees bought Watseka Ave, the site of the LA temple. Previously it was a church. Srila Prabhupada told the devotees to leave the chairs in to allow visitors to sit comfortably and hear lectures on Krishna Consciousness. After this he left and continued travelling. When he next returned to Watseka Ave he found the devotees had actually ripped out all the chairs and laid down a marble floor, to make a bona-fide "Vedic" (read: Indian) temple. Srila Prabhupada was very displeased with this.

The relationship between the two? A disparity in envisioned functionality of the facility, and hence emergent form. The devotees wanted the facility to fulfill the function of "bona-fide Indian experience". Srila Prabhupada wanted it to perform the function of "effective outreach facility".

The replication of this approach to functionality and form, that the form of the temple should serve the functionality of being more authentically Indian, has lead to the standard ISKCON temple form... which functions today to attract large Indian congregations and not many Westerners.

Rather than catalog a list of "all the things that are wrong" with ISKCON temple designs, I am going to go back to basics, and examine functionality first, then work forward to envision the form that follows that functionality.

Tomorrow: Functions of a Krishna Consciousness Facility.

This is the second post in my series on Building a Krishna Conscious "Mega Church". Part 1 can be found here.

Function Follows Form Influences Function

When we look at any purpose-built structure we find that the form of the structure is dictated by the function that it will perform.

Take a look at a service station (a "servo" in Australia, a "petrol station" in en-UK speaking countries). The whole layout of the facility is purely to facilitate its functionality: driveways - entry and exit; fuel pumps; underground tanks with access for petrol tankers; a shop and till.

Take a look at a supermarket: a huge parking lot; a specific layout with aisles and signs, laid out to guide shoppers through in a specific order; lanes and tills, with express lanes and regular lanes.

Take a look at an office building: multi-level with office spaces; toilets on or between floors; a kitchenette facility; elevators and stairs.

Take a look at a stadium: probably extensive parking near-by; huge entrances and corridors; extensive bathroom facilites; changing rooms; tiered seating; commercial facilites for caterers; sound system; video system.

Whatever the function that will be performed there, the building is designed and constructed to facilitate that.

Important Point:

• A "facility" (from Latin facilis - easy) is a particular form that makes a particular function easy.

In this way Form follows Function.

Form, in turn, influences function. For example: we leased a space for our yoga center downtown in Brisbane. We were unable to put a kitchen in there, although we had hoped that we would be able to. Due to this limitation, or particular characteristic of the form of the space our functionality was similarly limited, or shaped. So the form of the building supports certain functionality, and impedes other functionalities.

In this way Form influences Function.

Function Precedes Form

Another way of stating that Form follows Function is to say that Function precedes Form. In the case of our yoga center we already had our function. However, the form that we obtained did not support that function. Function precedes form. When you are designing a building you have in mind the function that it will support and facilitate. When you buy or rent an existing building, unless the function you wish to perform is a common use case (which yoga classes + dinner is not) then you may have to adapt the form (something that was easy to do in New Zealand, but very difficult in Nazi Australia), or restrict or adapt the functionality (which is what we ended up doing for a strained three years).

I would like to write a digressionary note about form and formlessness, but I don't have the energy or time right now. Suffice it to say:

Anyway, form has its use, its misuse, and its abuse.

Tomorrow: A Brief Analysis of ISKCON Temple Design