Unity in diversity, Diversity in Unity.
Marvin Higgins

I am not an accredited chaplain, in the sense accustomed to in the United States of America.

Or indeed in the current, modern, world-wide academic and occupational sense.

I use the word “chaplain” in its deeper sense.

I use it in the sense of someone with the best interests of their fellow beings at heart, a sympathetic companion to all of the world’s citizens, life-forms, environments, cultures, races, religions, spiritualities, peoples, environments, ecologies, etc.

However, I do not countenance everything. Violence, in the main, I eschew.

Even hatred, loathing and repugnance is off the table for me.

It is possible , in my opinion, to deal satisfactorily with unwanted and unhelpful people, things and situations without the “final solution” being invoked.

But I am embarking on a deep discussion of life and its lessons and available paths

Instead, I invite the reader to enter on a study of ancient and contemporary history, individuals and societies, along with constant observation, reflection and meditation (an attempt to contact and remain immersed in the source and sustenance of all that is).

This essay is a short recitation of some of my own personal journey, in pursuit of the above. It also includes some of those who encountered me as our paths crossed.

I was trained by the International Society for Krishna Consciousness, which is based on the ancient Vedic texts and traditions of India.

I was also trained by the International Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Centre of the late Swami Vishnudevananda, of Kerala, India.

I associated with, and received teachings from Rastafari in the Bahamas, Jamaica and America.

The Rastafari see the former Emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie (Ras Tafari) as an incarnation of Jesus Christ.

It was only in my late years, this body is now 67, that I began to realize that I have been doing the work of a chaplain nonstop from birth – but not always with a salary or recognition.

And I currently feel that all of Earth’s inhabitants are “called “ to be chaplains: helpers of each other, in thought, word and deed, listeners to each other, supporters and guides of each other.

Certification or not. Mdiv, PhD, CPA experience or not. Formal religion, or not. But this is just my own personal view.

I began to feel differently about chaplaincy for several reasons.

My baby brother, married with five growing offspring, once said that for him, I served as a chaplain.

I learned that the Godfather of soul, James Brown, travelled to perform at concerts with his personal chaplain

With my expanded view of what I believe a chaplain does and should do, I offer this essay.

In Illinois, I remember assisting the official Roman Catholic priest/chaplain, at a large, luxury retirement and rehab home, in instituting a weekly bible study and singing gathering.

At another similar institution, I served in the official capacity of “activity aide,” and would hold daily music, dance and “trivia “ sessions.

I encountered a “Jewish-born” iconoclast who came to Mass and sought counseling from our Catholic chaplain.

I ordered an Ethiopian Orthodox Church book for her (she tossed it aside until she discovered that I was her benefactor).

I ordered a book by Pope Francis , and another Ethiopian Orthodox book about the biblical Adam and Eve, for the young Catholic priest, who usually said the morning mass.

One former airman, in a heavy duty wheelchair, would only come out of his room to play trivia with us: I would ask a question (like what is the longest river in the world? Answer: the Nile in Egypt, the Sudan and Ethiopia) .

When we segued into singing or some other activity, this movie lover used his feet to walk himself, while sitting in his wheelchair, back to his bedroom.

My wife and I began waving to drivers and passers-by, when we went for our daily walks. We offered greetings to those we met, and usually received a smile and a greeting in return.

When our apartment manager came upon a car accident in our neighborhood, where one of the injured was still in the car, I sensed beneath the manager’s calm exterior, some anxiety – especially since she related an onlooker conjecturing that probably one of the drivers had been on their cellphone.

I told her that her presence, and words of response to the onlooker, undoubtedly helped bring healing to the situation.

My wife and I recently visited my old ashram on paradise island in the Bahamas . We saw and spoke happily to friends we had not seen in years. We saw a fellow yogini whom we had met months earlier at Yogaville in Virginia, USA, the ashram of Swami Vishnudevananda’s brother disciple Swami Satchitananda.

Her first words to us in the Bahamas were: “I know you.”