On a beach in Chennai (then Madras), on the Eastern shores of India, in the year 1909, a young Indian boy was declared by two Europeans to have an “unusual aura.” They plucked him and his brother off that sandy shore and launched them on a life altering journey.
The boy would grow to be one the world’s major religious leaders (even though he did not choose to be), first as the anointed head of the Theosophy movement and later denouncing it and all other organized religion to preach a message of internal reflection, individual freedom and the use of intellectual rationality.
Jiddu Krishnamurti and his writing have left a lasting impression on me (and I had the honor of meeting him several times), but I am always struck by the hand of chance that was at play on that day. There might just as easily have been some other little brown skinned boy deemed the next savior of the world. What was it that Annie Besant and Leadbeater saw on that beach in South India? I often look out at the faces of little children and wonder what would happen if something similar were to occur in their lives.
The educator Sophia Lyon Fahs reminds us, “each night a child is born is a holy night” – holy because with the arrival of a child, the promise of love and hope is renewed. Hope, that each child might change the world, move it from its natural course, to an ever deepening understanding of what it means to be human.
This winter season, I invite you to see the hand of chance at play among the children of god.