Scripture in Worship: Part Two

Cultural Marks and Religious Meaning — A Response to Christian Concessions

The following points by J. Wijngaards [See: Reflections for Liturgical Adaptation – Four Points] once again illustrate how even scholars with relatively good knowledge of Hinduism often fail to grasp a key distinction: unlike Greek philosophies and traditions, in Hinduism, everything is part of an integrated whole. One cannot conveniently separate philosophy from religion in Hinduism as was possible with Greek traditions.

While I appreciate the positive tone in some of these scholars’ approaches, there remains a hegemonic and patronizing undertone in the way several Catholic scholars offer “concessions” to converts—allowing them to retain certain pre-conversion cultural or religious practices under the claim that these have “lost their original religious meaning.” As Hindu bhaktas, we do not require such concessions. What belongs to our tradition, we will continue to use without apology.

However, what Wijngaards says about the disappearance of religious meaning needs correction. For instance, the practices of women applying pottu (forehead mark) or sindur (vermilion) after marriage are often assumed to have religious connotations. But authoritative scholars like Prof. P. V. Kane have shown that these customs did not originate from religious mandates. We have already discussed this in detail elsewhere (e.g., Red-dot in Living Water and Indian Bowl). Kane even cited a High Court ruling where the cosmetics industry sought tax exemption for sindur by arguing it was a religious item. The court dismissed the claim, stating that such products were essentially cosmetic in nature, though occasionally used in religious contexts. Even in ancient temple sculptures—where women are shown holding mirrors or applying forehead marks—most female figures do not show a visible pottu or sindur.

Despite this somewhat accommodating spirit in some Catholic circles, the Evangelical Protestant world remains even more rigid. Recently, I was asked to provide feedback on a book by a well-known Tamil Evangelical leader aimed at contextualizing the Gospel for Hindus. The book’s cover featured a beautiful Bharatanatyam dancer—clearly a Christian girl—but without a pottu on her forehead, though she wore every other element of the traditional costume. I pointed out this omission and remarked, “Either place a pottu on her forehead, or use a different image entirely. First impressions matter. Any Hindu who sees that cover might choose not to open the book at all, except perhaps those looking to criticize it.” I do not know whether he accepted my suggestion. Nevertheless, it reveals how even a seasoned evangelical leader, now in his 90s, still holds deep prejudices toward cultural symbols that are sometimes associated with religious practice.

There are still many miles to go before the Gospel can truly be incarnated in Indian culture and tradition.

Reflections for Liturgical Adaptation

1. The first norm that transpires from the above examples is clearly that we should reject every religious practice that goes directly counter to revealed religion. Translated into modern terms, I would say that this means that we will have to resolutely abandon any from of prayer or any ceremony that would give the impression that Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, the Parsee religion or Islam have validity in themselves as religions today. Whatever their providential function in leading people to Christ, they are decidedly superseded by the advent of Christ Himself and the establishment of his Church. Our liturgy will have to bring out this unique claim of re(p. 255)relation, this finality of Christ’s presence as the Saviour of all mankind

2. This does not mean, however, that we may be satisfied by merely forbidding or stopping former religious practices. Very valuable and pro-found religious practices have grown up in each culture and these practices should be both competently continued and substituted in the new context of the advent of Christianity. To mention some obvious examples: for converted Muslim communities the practice of Ramzan and its concluding feasts could fruitfully be substituted by a similar practice of feasting and rejoicing in a Christian context. The Hindu feast of Deepavali may not be cruelly suppressed, but must be substituted by a Christian feast of lights.

3. Many religious customs of the past have taken on a social function. With regard to these customs, we must boldly forget their religious past, and accept them wholesale because of their social viability. I believe that one of the reasons for the present uneasiness with regard to liturgical adaptation arises from too great a concern about previous religious implications. When women wear a red dot on their forehead, it is a mark of beauty and expresses a social status. The ancient religious meaning of this custom has practically disappeared. There is no reason, therefore, why a Christian woman should not wear this decoration. Likewise, whatever their previous implications, religious customs, such as bowing, arati, prasad, should be courageously introduced. Even within the religious context these rites have mainly a social function and their historical connotations need not come into the picture at all.

4. Apart from such norms, what Deuteronomy teaches us especially is to be courageous when tackling this question of adaptation. Many of us seem to be caught up in needless scruples. For the Israelite two-thirds of his religious practices and customs derived from Canaanitic origin. If we compare this to the extremely low percentage of rites deriving from Indian origin in our Christian liturgy, it is obvious that we still have a very wide margin to play with.[Italics original] — John N.M. Wijngaards, “Reflections for Liturgical Adaptation,” in God’s Word Among Men, ed. S.J. Gispert-Sauch (Delhi: Vidyajoti, 1973), pp. 247–256., pp. 255-256

Conclusion

This reflection, as a continuation of Part One (“Using All Scriptures of Various Faiths in Our Bhakti”), further explores how cultural and religious symbols—particularly those found in Hindu traditions like the pottu or sindur—are treated within the framework of Christian liturgical adaptation. Drawing on the insights of scholars like John Wijngaards, it is clear that there has been a genuine effort to respect and integrate meaningful practices from non-Christian traditions, especially when these are seen as having become “social” rather than explicitly religious. However, this accommodation often remains within a framework that subtly assumes Christian theological superiority and retains the power to determine which practices are acceptable and which are not.

While Wijngaards rightly encourages the abandonment of practices that contradict the Gospel and calls for openness to cultural expression, his position still reflects a top-down model of discernment. In contrast, this paper argues that such discernment must also arise from the lived experience of faith, where meaning is not imposed externally but discovered through genuine participation and devotion. Just as the scriptures of other faiths can nurture our bhakti without needing Christian endorsement, so too can the symbols and rituals that accompany them. These are not merely cultural residues waiting to be Christianized; they are already sacred signs of a people’s encounter with the divine. Any authentic liturgical adaptation must begin by recognizing this truth.

Summary of Scholarly Sources on Pottu, Sindur, and Related Practices

Various scholars have observed that while sindur and pottu are now widely used and associated with marital and religious life, their origins are neither uniform nor strictly religious. For instance, India Mystica notes that the ritual of sindoora-dana in marriage is absent from early Grihasutras, suggesting it is a relatively modern addition. K.P. Chon remarks that although the original religious meaning of the forehead mark is largely forgotten, it survives today as a stylistic and cultural symbol rather than a religious one.

Archaeologist Kulbhushan Mishra observes that figurines from 2200–1700 BCE show red paint in the parting of hair, indicating an early form of sindur use. However, even this suggests a cultural continuity more than a codified religious requirement. Akshaya Mukul documents how sindur became associated with ideas of chastity and social boundaries in the modern period, particularly through the lens of moral narratives promoted by Gita Press.

Asko Parpola ties the symbolism of red powder to blood and sacrifice, linking it to older non-Aryan traditions, suggesting these were later absorbed into Hindu worship. Across all these perspectives, one message is clear: the use of these symbols is layered, culturally complex, and cannot be flattened into a single religious origin or justification.

Across all these perspectives, one message is clear: the use of these symbols is layered, culturally complex, and cannot be flattened into a single religious origin or justification.

While references to sindur as a marital marker and kumkum as a symbol of sacrifice do exist, these connections are not doctrinally fixed. The gestures of personal grooming (alankara) and religious worship (puja) may overlap in practice, but they need not originate from the same source—nor must one validate the other.

Ashram. May 4, 2025

Notes and References

Those interested in authentic scholarly presentations on Hindu cultural marks—especially those relating to women—may refer to the following:

• P.V. Kane, “Tilaka Mark,” Journal of the Bombay Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (JBBRAS, New Series), Vol. XXI (1945), pp. 33–37. Reprinted in Rasikalpanyasa (1970), pp. 287–92.
• S.G. Moghe (ed.), Professor Kane’s Contribution to Dharmasastra Literature, D.K. Printworld, New Delhi, 1997, pp. 233–37.
• High Court Verdict on Kumkum, Madras High Court, Special Original Jurisdiction, November 17, 1997. Justice Ramanujam, Writ Petition Nos. 3858 & 3905 of 1973.
• Living Water and Indian Bowl, for further discussion on the red dot (kumkum) and its cultural interpretation.

Scholars and sources present a mixed yet clarifying picture:

• India Mystica notes that the sindoora-dana ritual is relatively recent, emerging after the Grihasutras (p. 1).
• K.P. Chon (1992) acknowledges that while the original religious meaning of the tika has faded into mere style, it still remains a symbolic part of the Isvar dharma (p. 69, Remedy the Frauds in Hinduism, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan).
• Kulbhushan Mishra, in a scientific study of early Indian civilization, interprets red markings in terracotta figurines (2200–1700 BCE) as possible early uses of sindur by married women (p. 86, Historicity of Vedic and Ramayan Eras, 2012).
• Akshaya Mukul, quoting Mahendra Ramcharan, reflects on the social symbolism of sindur—how it was linked to chastity, fortune, and even protection from assault (p. 142, Gita Press and the Making of Hindu India, 2015).
• Asko Parpola identifies red powders like kumkuma and turmeric as ritual substances possibly linked to blood sacrifice traditions of non-Aryan origin, hinting at deeper, possibly non-Vedic roots (p. 174, Roots of Hinduism, Oxford University Press, 2015).