I begin to read about faiths beyond my own. I am curious to see if they aren’t more similar than I had believed. I read about Mormons, Catholics, Sufis, Quakers.

I come upon a documentary about the Hindu celebration of Kumbh Mela, a holy pilgrimage from the mouth of the Ganges River to its source in the Himalayas. The legend is that four drops of immortal nectar were dropped when the gods fought with the demons in the sky, and that nectar landed in four places on earth. The pilgrimage is a journey to those places; to bathe in the river waters, to wash away sins, and to seek health and salvation.

Millions attend. Tens of millions. It is an incredible sight. I see bearded men dancing. I see holy men with pierced lips and powdered skin. I see elderly women who have traveled for weeks to seek the majesty of God in the snowcapped mountains.

It is the largest gathering of humanity on earth and has been called “the world’s largest single act of faith.” Yet for most in my country, it is totally alien. The documentary refers to Kumbh Mela as “being part of something big while doing something small.”

I wonder if that applies to visiting an old man in New Jersey?