Fr. John Britto is a light - Memoirs by Barbara Amodio

Fr. John Britto Chethimattam was my great teacher and friend from the time I met him in one of his earliest graduate courses taught at Fordham University in the 1970's. I was a Teaching Fellow and took many courses and tutorials with him, always valuing both his personal and professional advice about many research projects, some still to be finished and at least one to be dedicated to him. We understood each other well from the beginning, and it was my great good fortune to have been introduced to the Indian tradition in Philosophy from his erudite, insightful and comprehensive perspective. That is a decided advantage over most of what passes as 'Indian' or 'oriental' philosophy in America today. He was an eternal spring of wisdom, careful scholarship, and vision, always expressing himself with just the right emphasis in matters simple and complex. One word from him was like volumes from other persons. Together we picked through many oriental and near eastern traditions. He set me on the right road so that I could journey on alone and not lose my sword of discrimination when I needed it. I remember him today, as always and every day in my deepest meditations. I feel him close by. His work and insights in Consciousness and Reality are, to my understanding, groundbreaking and comprehensive. They deserve much attention, and are an abiding current in my own thinking and teaching. His perspective on Consciousness is the key to a profound integration of the strands in the Indian tradition, and beyond it. It has been my privilege to introduce students to the Indian tradition from his perspective for nearly thirty years. No one could do it as well as he did, but it is a privilege to carry on in some small and reverent way. There is never a time when I do not consciously evoke him as I enter my Intro to Oriental Philosophy, Nonwestern Aesthetics or for that matter any classroom. Fordham for a time was more privileged than they ever knew to have this great Soul in their midst. He taught me so much, including about the genuine dialogue of religions and the grounding of internal sacred 'space' that it is unquestionable that he changed, on occasion redirected and certainly deepened the course of my life, for the better. In the early days at Fordham, I remember his enormous energy and the rumbling, echoing voice that was like a roll of constant thunder, meaning spilling from the words he used from whatever more ordinary world language he was employing at the time. He spoke rapidly, and to me it was like a poetry in motion that captured one's consciousness, holding it tightly in the elaboration of a symphony of highly integrated and perfectly nuanced meaning, travelling from concept to integration to insight, until finally the rapture ended at the end of the
2.5 hour class. For some of us who knew him better, and who were devoted to him, the classroom was virtually everywhere, a magic space that arose from the 'place' that he was. On top of this, he was a model of administrative efficiency that shattered many person's stereotypes of the oriental philosopher. This amused me very much. That he loved to travel, stating in his characteristic rumble that he 'thrrrrriiiived' on it warmed my heart. He could travel forward, backward and in depth at the twinkling of his imagination. His erudition, organization and selfless devotion to students and colleagues stretched beyond Alpha Centauri. We must all carry on to honor and expand his contributions in out own lives and works, scholarly and personal. He is a light. Barbara A. Amodio, Ph.D.