Contributed by Renee Prymus

Lately, the word namaste has been the subject of great debate. As this NPR article demonstrates, the word namaste in Sanskrit literally means “bow to you.” In India, it is a greeting, a formal “Hello.” As Susanna Barkataki describes, namaste is a greeting given to elders—it is polite, and it is a beginning. Thus, Barkataki, and many others of South Asian origins, feel a little out of sorts when yoga teachers end a yoga practice with a hello beginning. 

In her post, Barkataki encourages yoga teachers to reflect and use their creativity to come up with something different. To aid creativity, she offers at least 60 options for ending a class with something other than namaste. 

In 2008, when I first began teaching yoga, I had been taught that namaste means “The light in me honors/salutes the light in you.” As the word and its intention comes from Sanskrit, I thought a lot about whether or not I, as a Christian, could use it. Or should use it. I wasn’t sure if it had a religious intention. I know many other Christian teachers of yoga have had similar debates. 

In my Christian teacher training, many of my classmates chose not to use namaste, feeling that the word was too foreign to Christianity. An extreme interpretation might be “the God in me honors the God in you”; from a Christian perspective, that would be a weird thing to say. I knew that I would be teaching in non-Christian settings, I knew namaste was part of the culture, and I loved the idea of honoring my students with namaste. For me, saying namaste meant that the light—my true self, whatever is good and true and holy in me—honors the light in you—your true self, whatever is good and true and holy in you. 

For me, using namaste was also a way of acknowledging yoga’s Sanskrit roots. It was an intentional choice. On her blog and reprinted on our site, my colleague and friend Kelly McLellan has written more eloquently than I can about her choice to use namaste and how she sees it as an honoring of the image of God inside each person. (Seriously, if this article intrigues you, then you would love reading hers too!)

In the past couple of years, articles (like this one and this podcast and Barkataki’s blog and the NPR essay) have been published and shared widely in the yoga realm about namaste’s literal translation: “bow to you.” Adopting “the light in me” part was definitely an embellishment that Western yoga culture adopted somewhere along the line, and scholars haven’t yet found the genesis of it. Many yoga teachers are now rethinking their use of namaste, like Luci Yamamoto, who writes that she began saying “namaste” out of habit. Ultimately, Yamamoto chooses to continue with namaste, but her article and sources are thought-provoking. At the end of her article, she includes different perspectives about namaste, some of which note that in India it is also used similarly to goodbye. 

I’m now rethinking it too. Lately, I’ve been thinking about transculturation and cultural appropriation and all kinds of big words that some day I will write more about (but I cannot promise when that day will be!). In some ways, namaste seems to be a microcosm of that whole conversation: as a Sanskrit word, it crossed the world and cultures with yoga, morphed into something different, is used on T-shirts and jokes, and now its origins and intent are under scrutiny.* How are we using it? Why are we using it? 

On the one hand, as an English teacher, I understand that language changes. We see language changing almost daily with “text-speech.” Most of the acronyms my college students use flippantly in their papers were not yet invented when I was in college. And the English language has always borrowed words from other languages—look up a word, and the etymology is “originally from the French word for ___” or Latin, or Greek. “Borrowed” might be a soft word for “stealing” words, which is, perhaps, a legacy from English’s use as a language of colonization. And on that note, I’m back to rethinking using namaste. 

In her discussions of cultural appropriation, Barkataki says, “The alternative to appropriation is often creativity.” She’s not out to tell anyone that they shouldn’t use namaste, but to really consider why they do what they do. I think that if I were to conclude this essay (btw: the word essay literally means “to try,” like I’m trying an idea out) by continuing to choose namaste, she’d be okay with that. Namaste, as a word in this North American context, has evolved into signifying the end of a yoga practice. It just has. And I still really love the inner orientation that namaste reflects in me. 

But I am challenged by Susanna Barkataki’s invitation to creativity. On this site, we look deeply at the overlap between the practice and philosophy of yoga and the practice and theology of Christianity. When I look at the function of namaste at the end of a yoga class, I see the Christian practice of offering a benediction—a blessing at the end of a worship service. 

I wonder about drawing from Christianity’s long, rich tradition of benedictions—as many other Christian teachers already do to end their yoga classes. The benediction might change depending on the context: in a Christ-centered class, I might use a Scriptural benediction; in a regular setting, I might use a poem, or improvise something from that class’s intention. In some contexts, I might still use namaste. 

In college, I listened to a pastor who made a big deal out of the benediction. He would create a new one for each service, asking us to look at him as he gave the blessing. I remember looking forward to finding out what he would say each time. A friend of mine now always ends her emails with a unique blessing as well. This practice has grown out of her practice of metta meditation: “May you be filled with loving kindness; May you be well; May you be peaceful and at ease; May you be happy.” As variations on this theme, her emails to me have ended: “May blessings surprise you all weekend” and “Wishing you a waterfall of blessings.” 

Perhaps Barkataki is right: in using this kind of creativity, my students and I might not miss the namaste as a period marking the end of yoga. 

May the Creator God of unlimited ingenuity inspire you to go forth and be creative. 

Here are some ideas to get us started: 

• Thank you for practicing with me today. Go in peace.

• Go in peace. 

• May you be well.

• A shortened version of St. Patrick’s Breastplate: “Christ be with me, Christ within me, | Christ behind me, Christ before me, | Christ beside me, Christ to win me, | Christ to comfort and restore me. | Christ beneath me, Christ above me, | Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, | Christ in the hearts of all that love me, Christ in the mouth of friend and stranger.”

• Use another prayer/blessing from the Christian tradition that resonates with you.

• Sing/chant the doxology together —“Praise God from whom all blessings flow…”

• Use a Bible verse or benediction based on Scripture like these.

• If you end your class with meditation, perhaps you say nothing at all (you might prep your students for this—after the ending meditation chime, they are welcome to quietly roll up their mats).