Philadelphia

Dearest Srila Prabhupada,

Please accept our most fallen obeisances at your lotus feet. When you arrived in Philadelphia in the summer of 1975, we drove you from the airport in a hired Cadillac limousine; this was noted by an envious reporter, who later challenged you: "Why did you ride in a Cadillac limousine from the airport?" You replied: "My disciples have provided me with this, limousine, but actually, it is not at all good enough. They have not done very well by me. Saksad dharitvena samasta-sastrair uktas thata bhavyata eva sadbhiḥ," you quoted. "The spiritual master is to be worshiped on an equal level with God. Because the spiritual master is the most confidential servant of God and is therefore very dear to him, he receives the same honor that is paid to the Supreme Lord. God rides in a chariot of gold, so my disciples should have provided a golden car for me. This Cadillac is not at all sufficient."

The reporter sat there speechless, but the devotees from Philadelphia were feeling ashamed. How far short we fall in every way! It's true: you do deserve a car of gold. No service we perform, no praise we offer, no surrender we proffer, comes even respectably close to what, by rights, ought to be given to you. We had even been feeling somewhat proud of the hired Cadillac limousine; so often, indeed, we have found ourselves thinking, "Now I have performed some real service for Srila Prabhupada," or "Now I have really surrendered to His Divine Grace," or similar inglorious notions.

But how can we ever render unto you the service that we owe? Our debt cannot be discharged, except by further borrowing. We have discovered that when we attempt some service, unless we obtain your mercy, we cannot properly perform it. Without your grace, we always fail. Thus we simply become increasingly entangled in the network of indebtedness, and we cannot escape your grip; thus we remain forever your bound servants.

Neither are we able to mint with our dull and earthy tongues the sterling and golden words that piled in heaps still would not exhaust the value of your priceless worth.

Forever indebted, perpetually embarrassed, we cannot pay the price for your matchless gifts.

But still we can dream... that one day will come when the bedazzled crowds at the airport will see you mount a car of burnished gold, flaming like the sun, surrounded by throngs of purified chanters, chanting your glories in exquisite verse. The golden chariot shall carry you down a road inlaid with gems, over a carpet of stemless fragrant flowers. Rows of flowering trees will line the way, forming a perfumed canopy overhead, and there will be lakes of sweet-smelling water like nectar, with jeweled bathing places. Flocks of birds will pour out their songs in ecstasy, and the shining silk banners, proclaiming your glories, shall sway in the cool, scented breezes.

In this we only could hope to begin to receive you properly. And what would the reporters have to say then?

Your most fallen servants in Philadelphia

Ravindra Svarūpa dasa / Sudasa / Mahasakti dasa / Raghunatha dasa dasa / Brahmananda Puri dasa / Vitthalesara dasa / Devananda Panḍita dasa / Bhūbhrt dasa / Pravracarya dasa / Jaya Madhava dasa / Jaya Baladeva dasa / Hari Murari dasa / Radhanatha dasa / Guru-karuna dasa / Jivanatha dasa / Saudamani-devi dasi / Devayani-devi dasi / Havridhani-devi dasi / Bhaktavasya-devi dasi / Lalitamrta-devi dasi / Mallika-devi dasi / Bhakta John / Bhakta Jim / Bhakta Dan / Bhakta Steve / Bhakta Ron / Bhakta Brett / Bhaktin Sandy / Bhaktin Shirley

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