One Baha'i's approach...

Happy Ayyam-i-Ha

2012-02-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

I was going to continue to write about the Dr Peter Centre, but the calendar got in the way, as did my keyboard problems. I'll continue that story later in the week.

Today, however, I want to write about one of my favorite times of the year: Ayyam-i-Ha.

Ayyam-i-Ha, in case you don't know, means "the days of Ha", and that alone means it's full of joy. In what other calendar system do you have days dedicated to laughter? It would be like calling Christmas-time the "days of ho ho ho". Hmmm. Ayyam-i-ho-ho-ho. I kind of like that.

It is a time of joyous celebration that is also called the Intercalary Days, because the Baha'i Calendar consists of 19 months of 19 days each. Do the math and you'll realize that this only makes 361 days. These intercalary days make up the rest of the solar year, so we have 4 days of celebration, except in a leap year (like this one) when we have 5.

Five days of joy and celebration. What more can you ask for?

"The days which Thou hast named the Ayyam-i-Ha in Thy Book have begun..." But just in case we want to get carried away, Baha'u'llah reminds us later in that same prayer, "...the fast which Thy most exalted Pen hath enjoined unto all who are in the kingdom of Thy creation to observe is approaching." (And yes, that's right. You read it correctly. Just after the Intercalary Days comes the Inter-Calorie Days.) (I used to put a sign on my candy dish that would read "A yummy? Ha! Happy fasting.")

It is also the time of my son's birthday. Like Shoghi Effendi (the Guardian), Shoghi (my son) was born on a Sunday during Ayyam-i-Ha. This makes it an even more joyous time of celebration in my house. And today, the very day of his birth, he is turning 7 (my son, not the Guardian).

So what is it that we do? I'm glad you asked, dear Reader.

These joyous days can be used as spiritual preparation for the fast, and they can also be used for hospitality, feasting, charity and gift giving.

What was that? I'm sorry, I think I mis-understood you. What is it that we, in my family, do? Oh, sorry. I thought you meant what do we Baha'is do?

First of all, we have two very different celebrations in our house: one for Ayyam-i-Ha and the other for Shoghi's birthday. Yesterday, for example, we had a birthday party at a local recreation centre. We brought in pizza, played tons of highly active games, and gave personalized gift bags to all who came. (What I mean by personalized is that we wrote their names on the bags and gave small little gifts that we thought appropriate to each child, like a notepad with music on it for the girl who loves the piano. That sort of thing.) But most important, we asked the kids to bring change for a local charity that helps children in need. This not only helped raise a bit of money for a good cause, it also helped remind the children of the importance of giving to charity. (The total he raised was just over $100.) There, at that party, I was able to talk to a few of the adults about why it is that we chose to do this, explaining both the charity aspect, as well as Ayyam-i-Ha.

At home, though, we do a few other things.

Some of the Baha'i friends like to talk about the Ayyam-i-Ha Camel in the same way that some Christian families will talk about the Easter Bunny. But not us. That poor bunny is busy enough with Easter. We don't need to make any extra work for him. Nope. We have the Ayyam-i-Ha Llama. (I think it sounds better than a bunny anyways.) I've described a bit about his activities before, but I think I'll do it again, just for fun.

Although Shoghi (both my son and the Guardian, I'm sure) is well aware that the Ayyam-i-Ha Llama doesn't really exist, we do like to have fun with it. We realized that it is no longer common to hang your socks by the fireplace to dry overnight, so "Christmas" stockings was just kind of unnatural, even though I really wanted to do them. But we do toss our jackets on the backs of chairs or hang them on the doorknobs. We decided to put little gifts in everyone's pockets. Every evening during Ayyam-i-Ha, Shoghi and I "sneak" downstairs and help the Ayyam-i-Ha Llama with this task, making sure to put gifts in our own pockets, too, because it is very important to be generous to yourself, too.

We also love to hang lights. These lights generally go up sometime around Christmas and stay up all the way through this time of year. If we're really lazy they also substitute as Naw Ruz lights. (Most years they even do duty as Ridvan lights.) We really love it.

This is the time of year when we get to pick and choose our own joyous and festive ways of celebrating. it is when we get to give all those little gifts to our friends that we've been collecting throughout the year. It is that time of the year when we get to be exuberant and celebratory, confusing our friends who are all shivering and frowny-faced, and explain to them just what it is that we are so happy about.

And it is also a time of the year when we get to think about just what it is that we are going to do during those long lunch hours of the Fast.

My friend, Lucki, who taught me the Faith, told me that she would choose a Book, such as Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, and spend her lunch time studying it. I liked that idea a lot, and so I've scraped off the serial number and stolen the idea. (I know a good idea when I steal it.) (I also know a good line when I steal it.) (<-- Like that one.)

This year Marielle and I are going to study the Kitab-i-Ahd and the Will and Testament of 'Abdu'l-Baha. (I thought I'd give you fair warning.)

But for now, I'm going to go outside and enjoy the beautiful crisp, sunny day that God has blessed this area with. And I'm going to go around wishing people a happy and joyous Ayyam-i-Ha, even though most of them will probably think I'm talking about a motorcycle.

The Dr Peter Centre Diaries, Part 1

2012-02-20T11:44:00.001-08:00

Earlier this year I published an article in the local paper about a woman I had met on the ferry around Christmas time. In the piece, I mentioned that she had been visiting her brother who was with the Dr Peter AIDS Centre in Vancouver. It was only a short time after that article came out that I received a touching and heartwarming letter from Dr Peter's mother, Shirley, inviting me to come visit and volunteer for a day.

Wednesday 8 February was that day.

It began when Marielle and Shoghi got up very early to take me to the ferry. Shoghi had wanted to come with me, and I would have loved to take him, but you have to be 19 to enter the building.

Now, I have to say, I wasn't really sure what to expect. I mean, I knew that it was a place for people with HIV, that there were some beds available for people who needed hospice care, that there was a lot of counseling and medical stuff going on, as well as that they worked with many who were homeless and hungry. I got all that from the web-site. I knew they did good work.

And I've been to many hospitals, hospices, rehab centres, care centres, and in every single one of them, the majority of the people look like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders. This place is different.

The first thing I noticed when I walked in, besides the beautiful and welcoming entry hall, was that everyone was smiling. That gave me an immediate good feeling, beyond what I got when I had received the initial invitation.

But perhaps I should go back a bit. What is the Dr Peter Center, and how did it begin? A whirlwind history is that Dr Peter had just finished his doctorate degree in medicine back in the late 80s when he was diagnosed with HIV. He approached the CBC about recording a weekly diary about his experience with the disease and, over the next few years, won himself a wide audience of admirers for his courage, wisdom and spiritual ideas. After he passed away, the Dr Peter Foundation was started in his name, and based on his principles. (You can find lots more info in other areas and I don't want to repeat it all here.)

There I was, in the hallway, wondering what to do. I introduced myself to Kamal, who was standing behind the front desk sorting something.

Aside: Kamal has one of the most difficult jobs in the building, as far as I can tell, and he does it admirably. His job is to greet the people who come in and make sure they get where they need to go. This is particularly difficult because he has to greet people without inadvertently offending them. Given some of the tensions that people can be facing when they arrive, it is truly amazing how well he does this.

So there I was, a stranger who had just been been given a beautiful smiling thanks by a man for whom I held open the door, and now wondering what to do.

I went to the desk and said, "Hi. My name is Mead..." and got no further than that when someone poked her head from around the corner and said, "Oh! You're Mead." That was to prove the motif for the day. "Oh", I would hear over and over again, "you're Mead." Those three words can often prove to be a disappointment, when the first word is stressed, or a blessing, when the second word is emphasized. Here it boded of excitement that someone would come so far just to volunteer for the day. Little did they know that the real blessing was mine.

It was only a few moments later that I met Shirley, dressed in her apron, serving breakfast to all who came her way. She greeted me with a warmth and a smile that made me feel even more welcome than before. And I then understood that no matter what she would think, I knew I had found the heart of the Centre.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur as I met many people and was given the tour. I want to tell you all about the people I met, and the things I saw, but I'll save that for later. As you can tell from this wildly all over the place article, it was a bit of a whirlwind for me. I wanted to give you a bit of the sense that I felt while I was there: joy, being overwhelmed and welcomed, and a sense of curiosity. Over the next few days I'm going to try and show a couple of the things they are doing there, but for now I want to share one little story.

I had the wonderful bounty of talking with Shirley a bit more later in the morning, and I told her about that line from 'Abdu'l-Baha that had confused me for so long. I've written about it here in the past, but I think it bears repeating. "The good deeds of the righteous are the sins of the Near Ones."

She seemed to really focus on me when I said that line from Some Answered Questions and asked me to share what I had learned from it. I said that, to me, it meant that many of us would feel good about giving money to support a cause such as the Centre, and that this donation would be a righteous deed. It would be a good thing to help support it in that way.

But for others, to merely give money would not be enough. They would need to get to know the actual people involved. They would need to pour out their heart and soul, the sweat and their blood. To merely give something as superficial as money would practically be a sin to them.

This, I said, is what I saw in her. With all the love that she gave her son, she gives herself to the Centre. She embraces each and every one of the people that the Centre has helped, and regards them as her own children. Dr Peter's sacrifice, for really, what else could you call his last few years on this earth, has really helped grow the tree of her service. Shirley really has become the loving mother of everyone who walks through those doors, for she has seen what they are going through and doesn't see the illness, but the dear soul trapped within the body. Of all the things I saw and learned at the Centre on that rainy Wednesday morning, this is what touched me the most: her loving service.

As 'Abdu'l-Baha said, "Service to humanity is service to God." And "This is worship: to serve mankind and to minister to the needs of the people. Service is prayer." I feel so honoured to have been able to see such a servant in action.

A Minor Annoance

2012-02-17T07:38:00.003-08:00

No, that's not a typo. I really is a minor annoance.

What is? Le me show you for a few lines:

I was a bozo he oher da. I was drinking some ea, and like an idio I was drinking near m compuer. Well, as ou can imagine, I spilled i and knocked ou a few kes on m keboard.

What that is supposed to say is: I was a bozo the other day. I was drinking some tea, and like an idiot I was drinking near my computer. Well, as you can imagine, I spilled it and knocked out a few keys on my keyboard.

Kind of sucks, but it got me thinking. It got me thinking about tests and just what it is that we take for granted in our lives.

For example, look at this photo of Shoghi Effendi. It's the photo of him sitting at his typewriter (see below).

He had to type every letter he wrote, and then go over each and ever one of them to make sure that they were correctly typed. It took forever.

Just imagine how much more he could have written if he had had a computer.

And me? I'm inconvenienced by a couple of missing letters.

Now let's look at 'Abdu'l-Baha, or even Baha'u'llah. They had to write each letter by hand.

Me? I have the unbelievable luxury of using a computer and all I need to do right now is cut and paste a few letters that are missing after each line. This is made so much easier by the fact that the spellcheck shows me most of the words that are missing those letters.

So besides replacing the keyboards for a few dollars, what can I do? I can recall those beautiful words of Baha'u'llah's that were written for not only the truly life-threatening things that are occurring to those believers in some parts of the world, but also to help wimps like me keep it all in perspective:

O My servants! Sorrow not if, in these days and on this earthly plane, things contrary to your wishes have been ordained and manifested by God, for days of blissful joy, of heavenly delight, are assuredly in store for you. Worlds, holy and spiritually glorious, will be unveiled to your eyes. You are destined by Him, in this world and hereafter, to partake of their benefits, to share in their joys, and to obtain a portion of their sustaining grace. To each and every one of them you will, no doubt, attain.

My Favorite Prayer

2012-01-30T22:27:00.000-08:00

"What is your favorite prayer?"

That was the question she asked of me the other day.

I don't remember what I told her, but I know it wasn't really true. I mean, the prayer I shared with her was one I really love, but I can't honestly say that it was more favored by me than any other.

No. The one prayer that I think is really my favorite is one that nobody else would believe. Well, except you, dear Reader, but that's only because you know me so well by now.

No. The prayer that I would say is really my favorite is the one that begins, "My Lord! My Lord! I praise Thee and I thank Thee..." It's by 'Abdu'l-Baha. In Baha'i Prayers. Page 65.

Go ahead. Look it up. I'll wait.

(whistling)

Got it?

No? It's in your prayer book, over there on the left.

(more whistling)

Ah. You got it. I can tell by your expression.

You are probably thinking that it's rather sweet of me to choose that one, that it probably touches my heart and reminds me of a precious time in my life.

Well, I hate to tell you, dear Reader, but you'd be wrong.

Nope. It's because of all the people that I have seen who have read that prayer aloud that I love it so much.

I am convinced that somewhere out there, amidst that wily Concourse on High, there is a spirit whose sole job is to place that prayer in the hands of unsuspecting victims. Young victims. Young male victims. Young male victims who are generally somewhere between the ages of, say, 12 and 15. (Hey, that's the same age range as junior youth. Coincidence? I think not.)

Let's look a bit further into that prayer. I mean, it starts off so well (don't they all). It seems so innocent. So nice. So... harmless.

"...for that whereby Thou hast favored Thine humble maidservant," Wait. Maidservant?

Oh, sure. Why not? 'Abdu'l-Baha often referred to Himself as a maidservant, so we're still on safe ground here.

But by this point the warning bells have begun to ring in that poor soul's mind.

You see, this prayer is often chosen at random by those young males, generally between the ages of, say, 12 and 15, who are asked at the last minute to read a prayer in front of a large gathering, usually well-stocked with those who are nearest and dearest, not to mention close in age, to said young male victim.

Then they stalwartly continue: "...Thy slave beseeching and supplicating Thee, because Thou hast verily guided her unto Thine obvious Kingdom and caused her to hear thine exalted Call in the contingent world and to behold thy Signs which prove the appearance of Thy victorious reign over all things."

Aside from the occasional references to "her", this is still okay. The reader can stand tall, claiming the moral high-ground by demonstrating that they are not homophobic, that there is nothing wrong them reading a prayer that includes the feminine pronoun. After all, nobody sniggers or giggles when a girl reads a prayer laden with masculine personal pronouns, do they? This is but an example of gender equality, right?

"O my Lord," they continue, "I dedicate..."

And they pause. They have a sneaky suspicion, but are not too sure.

"...that..."

Their eyes grow suddenly wider..

"...which is in..."

They want to stop, rewind the page, choose another prayer, but it's too late. Everything is happening in slow motion and all you can do is wait and watch and wince. It's like watching a train wreck as it happens.

"...my..."

By now they realize that they have chosen THAT prayer. The prayer which is the bane of all Baha'i boys. The prayer that they will all, sooner or later, read by accident, thanks to that one soul who was accidentally allowed to consort with the concourse. That spirit who exemplifies that most mis-understood attribute of God, referred to only once in the Baha'i Writings, "the Humorist", but fails to demonstrate that other important attribute, "the Compassionate".

They probably close their eyes at this point, and read the next word from memory.

"...womb..."

You can hear the deep bass echoing reverb of that singular word as it crashes before them.

If they were to open their eyes at this moment, they would most likely see a room full of people valiantly pursing their lips, struggling not to giggle or snigger or show any emotion whatsoever for fear of offending said young male victim. Most in the audience will sit there with their eyes closed, with only a bit of wrinkling around the corners of their mouth, but a few will have jiggling shoulders as they try to hold back and stifle the laughter that is welling up inside of them. Rarely, very rarely, but I have seen it on occasion, someone will let out a tiny spark of a laugh, which is enough. If even one person lets out a single sound, the combustion factor of the room explodes in a burst of laughter that the poor soul will hear for the rest of their traumatized life. They will wake up in the middle of the night, well into their 30s, sweating and shaking as the sound of that laughter fades from their dream turned nightmare. Fortunately, this almost never happens.

Now that this hurdle has been successfully passed, now that the WORD hath been spoken, they know that there is nothing to do but continue on to the bitter end.

"...unto Thee. Then cause it to be a praiseworthy child in Thy Kingdom and a fortunate one..."

Yes, they will think, cause them to be fortunate. Don't let them be a boy who will ever fall victim to this most embarrassing prank of the spiritual realm.

"...by Thy favor and Thy generosity; to develop and to grow up under the charge of Thine education. Verily, Thou art the Gracious!"

Oh yes, they may think, really gracious.

"Verily, Thou art the Lord of Great Favor!"

Yeah, they will often say deep within their heart, thanks a lot.

Yup. I would have to say, out of all the prayers I have ever heard or seen read aloud, this one has to be my favorite.

The Pieces of Peace

2012-01-30T17:53:00.000-08:00

Here is the first in a series of articles I'm doing for my local paper about world peace: http://blogs.timescolonist.com/2012/01/30/the-pieces-of-peace/

Hope you enjoy.

Mead

The End?

2012-01-27T17:02:00.000-08:00

Oh, don't worry. I'm not thinking of quitting this blog. No, I just have been looking over my copy of Gleanings from the Writings of Baha'u'llah recently and a theme has caught my eye from some things I had underlined a few years ago.

Have you ever noticed that there are times when you read something in the Writings and it just sort of leaps off the page at you? It is often a curious thing what catches our attention. How often have I read a passage from Baha'u'llah and practically jumped out of my chair shouting for joy? How often has that passage said something so profound that I can't understand why it isn't posted everywhere for all to learn? And then, when I go back a day or two later, after that passage has profoundly changed my life, I can't find it. Oh sure, the whole paragraph is beautiful and profound, but nothing like what I experienced a few days earlier.

Well, today I was flipping through the pages and re-reading what had caught my eye in the past. And it was through this that I noticed the theme of trials and tribulations. For some reason, I had underlined a number of passages related to this theme. I'm not sure why, so I think I'll look at a few of them, one at a time.

Oh, before I begin, though, let me just point out that it would be so easy to read all of these passages and just lie down in despair, but we know that this is not what will help the world. Instead, I think we can look at these warnings and rise to help mitigate the trials that seem to be looming close on the horizon.

So, in no particular order, except chronologically from the book, I'd like to just read them one at a time and share what few thoughts cross my mind.

"So blind hath become the human heart that neither the disruption of the city, nor the reduction of the mountain in dust, nor even the cleaving of the earth, can shake off its torpor...

...The dust of sedition hath clouded the hearts of men, and blinded their eyes. Erelong, they will perceive the consequences of what their hands have wrought in the Day of God."

Perhaps it is just me, but this strikes me as the cause of all our woes. We have become like that frog in the pot of water. The temperature is increasing, about to boil that poor frog, and it hasn't even noticed that it is about to die. Instead, it just sits there thinking how nice and cozy the warm bath is.

When we read the news, are we even aware of how dysfunctional this world has become? We all read about natural disasters, like the devastating earthquake in Haiti, and most of us sent a few dollars. We also probably felt good about being able to help. But there are many other disasters that don't get as much of a positive response. Why not? I think it's because we are just reading about too much death and horror. We seem to have lost our perspective on the human element of the suffering. Neither "the reduction of the mountain in dust, nor even the cleaving of the earth" are failing to move many of us these days.

We sit in our homes watching the movie we just rented, or playing that fun game on the computer, ignoring the fact that even our own neighbourhood is dying around us. Oh, torpor, in case we don't know is a form of apathy, or sluggish indifference, generally caused by a very deep sleep. It is when we can't be bothered to do get up and do anything about it.

I remember sitting on a bus one day and a group of girls got on, walked to the back and starting beating up this other girl. I watched as the people near them turned away, waiting for the bus driver to do something, but he was at the other end. I had to walk all the way to the back, past many people, to tell them to stop. As they pushed past me to get off at the next stop, another passenger said, "I'm so glad you did that." I cannot tell you how upset that made me. "And why," I asked none too kindly, "didn't you do anything?"

That is torpor, as far as I can tell.

But then the second part of that quote refers to sedition, or 'action rebelling against a government'. So many of us in society wait for "someone else" to do something, and then at the same time we try and undermine the government that we expect to do something. It doesn't really make sense. If we don't support the government and the police, then they have that much less power to try and do good. But I'm sure that's just me ranting, because there are plenty of things that the various governments around the world are entrusted to do that they are just failing at.

In short, to me this quote is saying to be aware of the suffering in the world, take reasonable action, and stand up for what is right. Don't wait for someone else to stand up. And don't just sit by and think that all the crime and drug abuse are a normal part of life, for they are not. Oh, and encourage those people who work for your government. Many of them are trying their best. They really are.

The next quote that stood out for me seems to further emphasize this point about the troubles we are facing:

"The world is in travail, and its agitation waxeth day by day. Its face is turned towards waywardness and unbelief. Such shall be its plight, that to disclose it now would not be meet and seemly. Its perversity will long continue. And when the appointed hour is come, there shall suddenly appear that which shall cause the limbs of mankind to quake. Then, and only then, will the Divine Standard be unfurled, and the Nightingale of Paradise warble its melody."

Even back in the late 1800s, the world was suffering great mental anguish. And it's only been getting worse. Back then, who would have believed the horrors we take for granted today? Lying in court? Road rage? Bullying to such an extent that those bullied commit suicide? Children murdering each other? Who could have dreamed of these things actually happening?

Baha'u'llah knew. He could clearly see the signs of where we were heading, and still are heading. But He seemed to know that if He spoke of it, we would not believe it.

And if all this wasn't bad enough, He further warns us that "there shall suddenly appear that which shall cause the limbs of mankind to quake". What does that mean? Well, first, it seems to mean that we won't have any notice, no buildup, no time to prepare when it starts. Oh, that's not quite true, for we do have the warning. It is right there, in this quote, and in many other quotes from all the various Sacred Scriptures.

But what is it that will appear? Of that I'm not sure we know, nor can know. We do, however, know that it will be severe and "cause the limbs of mankind to quake". So, what are these "limbs of mankind"? I had often thought of it as making people tremble, sort of like having a nervous breakdown, but now I wonder. It does not talk about the limbs of men, but those of mankind. Are they the various institutions, such as political and economic, that help take care of the affairs of the world? Could it refer to other institutions, such as religious or commercial?

This part of the quote really makes me raise more questions than I have answers, but isn't that just the way of it? All I really know is that it seems certain there will be a major catastrophe of some sort, and that it will severely effect a significant number of people on the planet.

Then, after that dire warning, He gives us hope. He reminds us that "Then, and only then, will the Divine Standard be unfurled, and the Nightingale of Paradise warble its melody."

Perhaps it is after this major upheaval, when people are more aware of the importance of supporting each other and demonstrating spiritual principals that things will begin to get better. You will note that it doesn't say that "Christ will return", or the world will end, or anything else along those lines. No. He says that the "Divine Standard" will "be unfurled". To me, and this is only my own opinion, this means that we who are striving to share these divine teachings with others, who are working with all our might to assist people in understanding how to apply these ideas in our daily life, will help unfold these teachings for all to see. They will see them in action, not just in theory. After all, "Until the public sees in the Bahá'í Community", says the Guardian, "a true pattern, in action, of something better than it already has, it will not respond to the Faith in large numbers." It seems to me that we are just beginning to help establish this pattern in the new behaviour exhibited in our community life.

But just in case we think this will be easy, Baha'u'llah still has many more warnings for us about the difficult times that await.

"A severe trial pursueth you, and will suddenly overtake you. Bestir yourselves, that haply it may pass and inflict no harm upon you."

"Bestir yourselves". He is telling us in clear terms that we have the option of putting the odds in our favor. Of course, it's not a guarantee, for the word "haply" reminds us of this, but still, it's better than nothing.

I am reminded of the 90 year-old guy who has smoked a pack of cigarettes and drunk a liter of whiskey every day for years, and then claims that it's not bad for you. Well, he may have lived to 90, but for every one of those guys there are hundreds or even thousands who died far earlier. Living a clean life doesn't guarantee you a long and healthy life; it just gives you better odds of having one.

"We have a fixed time for you, O peoples. If ye fail, at the appointed hour, to turn towards God, He, verily, will lay violent hold on you, and will cause grievous afflictions to assail you from every direction. How severe, indeed, is the chastisement with which your Lord will then chastise you!"

Note that He is not addressing individuals here. He says "O peoples". If we, as a people, do not turn towards God, then we are in big trouble, regardless of what may happen to us individually. Today it is very clear that as a society we have embraced greed and fanaticism, not to mention laziness and ignorance, and this is most definitely not what happens when we turn towards God. As we are clearly seeing, this can only lead us to "grievous afflictions".

"The winds of despair are, alas, blowing from every direction, and the strife that divideth and afflicteth the human race is daily increasing. The signs of impending convulsions and chaos can now be discerned, inasmuch as the prevailing order appeareth to be lamentably defective."

I am so captivated by that description, "lamentably defective". It is not only defective; it is lamentably so. Here in Canada, there was a lengthy study where they interviewed all out-going members of our Parliament. What they discovered was that the only problem that they had with the government was the party system. They said that it was this very party system, which is not part of our constitution, that was preventing good things from actually getting done. For these high-ranking members of government to say this, those who rode to power on the coattails of these very parties, really speaks volumes about how defective the current systems of governance are.

But Baha'u'llah is not only talking about the government. He is talking about the "prevailing order". As far as I can tell, this also refers to our banking systems, our methods of conducting business, our health systems, agriculture, and so on. I think He is referring to each and every system out there. But that's just my own take on it, for what that's worth.

"There is no place of refuge for you, no asylum to which ye can flee, no one to defend or to protect you in this Day from the fury of the wrath of God and from His vehement power, unless and until ye seek the shadow of His Revelation."

I can only think of that poor couple who wanted to go pioneering and "get away from it all". They wanted to pioneer to the most remote place they could think of, because they were trying to escape the impending convulsions. They chose the Falkland Islands, and got there literally months before the war broke out in the mid-80s.

The earth is a single place. We are causing severe imbalances in the entire system which is effecting every single place on the planet, from the deserts to the oceans, from the equatorial regions to the poles. Every culture on the planet is feeling the effect of our way of living. There truly is no place that we can go that is not being effected right now.

"The day is approaching when We will have rolled up the world and all that is therein, and spread out a new world order in its stead."

It is not hopeless. It would be so easy to read all of these passages and just lie down in despair, but we know that this is not what will help. Baha'u'llah, of course, gives us the answer. If we are wondering what we can do, He tells us in no uncertain terms.

"...They who are the people of God must... be busied in whatever may be conducive to the betterment of the world and the education of its peoples."

Salvation vs. Growth

2012-01-23T10:00:00.001-08:00

Over the next few weeks I will be going through my "drafts" folder and rescuing articles that I had started, but never finished. (Or perhaps I'll just put them out of their misery.) Here is my latest attempt at cleaning up these unwieldy folder.

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A long time ago, way back in the ancient eternity of January of 2010, I wrote an article in which I said, "Now there's a theme for another article", and then promptly forgot all about it. Which article? Oh, sorry. It was called "The New Guilt". And no, I don't feel the least bit guilty about taking so long to write this one. I knew I'd get around to writing it eventually.

What was it?

Well, dear Reader, it was just a simple observation I made a while ago that seemed to catch a few of my friends by surprise. I realized that there are two broad categories into which most religions seem to fall: those that are primarily concerned with salvation, and those that are more concerned with spiritual growth.

What do I mean by that? Well, I'm sure you can guess.

There are many faiths out there who seem to believe that salvation is like an on/off switch. You are either saved, or you're not. You either go to heaven, or you miss out. (Those that have purgatory try to find a middle ground to please those that are more liberal in their beliefs, but it doesn't change the underlying strata of their belief.)

There are other faiths that believe that it is all about growth. Whatever we do, they say, should lead us closer and closer to our Creator, without ever letting us think that we will get to the end of that journey.

Catholicism, for example, would be of the former, while the Baha'i Faith would be of the latter.

As I'm sure that we are all aware of the underlying concepts involved with salvation, I won't dwell on it too much here. A short bit. That's it. Most of this will be about the idea of spiritual growth.

Here's the bit about salvation.

In the salvation religions, there tend to be two different models. The first is that of a balance. At the end of your life your good deeds are put on one side of the balance, and your bad deeds on the other. If your good deeds outweigh your bad ones, you go up to heaven. If the bad deeds weigh more, you go the other direction. The question of absolute equality came up, what if they are exactly in balance, and that led to purgatory, a place in between. Of course, this has been modified since then to a place where you are purged of the bad deeds so that you are able to go up more pure than if you still had all those bad deeds weighing you down.

The second model is that any bad deed, even a single one, brings you down to the nether places, and that you require the intervention of a saviour for your good deeds to be worth anything. In some instances, just accepting that saviour figure allows you to go up, regardless of your actions.

In some ways, Santa Claus is the perfect figure to fit into this model. He watches you throughout the year and judges whether you've been good enough, or not. If so, you get presents on Christmas.

This is a lot like the salvation concept, in that you get judged throughout your life and if you've been good enough, you get a gift at the end.

But me? I prefer the growth model.

For starters, it's not as judgmental. It also mirrors physical reality a bit more closely.

When we are in the womb, we are growing our body, even though we don't really need it there. There is not much to grab, yet we still grow our hands. There's not much to see, but we have to develop our eyes. What we hear is quite minimal and distorted, but we still build our ears there in the womb. Of course, we don't have to. We can live in the womb quite happily without any of those. But if we don't grown them, then we will suffer difficulties in this world, after we are born.

It would be very easy to jump to our moral behaviour, at this point, and talk about how we grow our spiritual limbs here, and use them in the next world, but let me step back a moment.

In the womb it is our growth that triggers all sorts of further development. It is when we bump into the uterine wall that the growth of our limbs and nerve-endings is triggered. It is when we grow to fill our available space in the womb that the birthing process begins. It is exactly each time that we meet our imposed limits that transformation to the next phase of our development occurs.

Once the basic outline of our body has developed, and we have reached the maximum capacity of the womb, we are born. And then we are just a baby. We need to grow and develop in this world. We have to achieve maturity.

When we are in this world, life starts out very easy. As we begin to explore our surroundings, we can't really get in a lot of trouble. It isn't until we're about 2 that our explorations can become dangerous, and our parents stop us. This is the root of the problem with the "terrible twos". It is really the first time in most people's lives that they are told "no". But it also when we really begin to learn about exploring our limits in the world.

Aside from the occasional reprimand by our parents, this is also a fairly easy time in our life. We don't get into too much trouble, although we may inconvenience our parents a bit. Or a lot. (Or a phenomenal amount. I still thank my Mom for letting me live through that time.)

It isn't until we really begin interacting with other people that the challenge occurs. This is when we run into the limits of our moral development. We need to learn to work on, and practice, our virtues if we want to get along with others. We don't need to, but we find life far more fulfilling if we do.

I say that we don't need to because there are many examples of people who don't who end up living very "successful" lives, in that they are wealthy and have all the trappings of society that they could want. But I would argue that they are missing out on the important growth aspect of their spirit.

In the Baha'i Faith, we don't talk a lot about heaven or hell, except as referring to them as nearness and distance from God. Instead, we talk a lot more about growing ever closer to our Creator.

Our life, and our spiritual development, is not about yes/no, or right/wrong, or success/failure. Instead, Baha'u'llah uses the idea of crisis and victory. The crisis here is when we reach our imposed limits. The victory is when we overcome those limits and move on to our next stage of development.

Throughout the Baha'i Faith we find this concept, this movement away from dichotomy and on towards process. It is far more difficult to grasp, but it sure seems to work a lot better.

A Pilgrimage Thought

2012-01-20T21:06:00.000-08:00

Most of the time these articles are quite simply nothing more than a few thoughts about a simple subject within the Baha'i Faith. Well, the subject isn't simple: my thoughts are.

But today I want to write something a bit more heartfelt, so if you're not in the mood for heartfelt, please skip this. You probably won't enjoy it, and I would hate to be responsible for you not enjoying a bit of your reading time.

I was looking through my bookshelves the other day, looking for a good book to read. I didn't want anything too heavy, intellectual-wise not gravity-wise, and was about to grab the new bio of Patricia Locke, which has been sitting there for a while. But then, right near it, my eye was caught by a slender green volume: Our Beloved Guardian: An Introduction to the Life and Work of Shoghi Effendi, by Lowell Johnson. I don't know when I got it, or how long it has been on the shelf, but it couldn't have been there for too long. (That makes me think that it was probably part of Fariborz Sahba's collection, which I purchased from him just before he moved.) (Oh, I buy collections of used Baha'i books, if you have any you want to sell.) (I also sell them, if there are any you're looking for.) (Hmm. I didn't expect a sales pitch here today.)

Anyways, there it was. There I was. And thus we met.

It opens with a reference to a pilgrimage made by William and Marguerite Sears, and that got me thinking about my own pilgrimage a number of years ago.

Then I remembered something that really struck me at the time: Shoghi Effendi said that the purpose of pilgrimage was not to meet the Guardian. Meeting him was not part of the pilgrimage. The pilgrimage was the visit to the holy shrines.

He went on to say that you don't go on pilgrimage because you are worthy, but rather that you go to become worthy in order to go out into the Vineyard to serve the Lord.

So how does that relate to me? (What was that? How does it relate to you, dear Reader? I have no idea. You have ask yourself that.)

Well, most of us simply fill out an application for pilgrimage and then just go when we are called. We save up some money, get a ticket and a hotel room, and there we are. While we are there, we are overwhelmingly moved by the spirit of the place, and are at a loss to describe it. Then we come home and talk with others about it as if it were a really amazing vacation. (Of course, I only speak for myself. I know that you are far more spiritual about it than I am.)

But what changed for me after pilgrimage? Well, for one thing, I always have my prayer book with me, now. That is new. Before then, I used to pray regularly, but now, ever since 1993, that prayer book is always with me, and I use it far more often than I ever did before.

Aside: Ok. This aside will seem like a total non-sequitor, but it really makes sense for me. It was shortly before I went on pilgrimage that I had a dream. In the dream I was standing on Linden Avenue looking at the Temple in Wilmette. While I was watching, a crane swung over with a man standing at the end of the long chain. (I'm sure my terminology is wrong, but you can just picture it.) As the crane swung towards the Temple, he hooked the chain around one of the panels, which was promptly lifted away. As it swung away, another crane came in with a replacement section that was far, far brighter then the piece removed. As the new piece was being put into place, a third crane swung in and removed another panel. This was just as quickly replaced by another super bright panel. Faster and faster it went, pieces swinging out and new brighter pieces replacing and rebuilding the Temple. As this went on, the light just grew more and more intense, so intense that it woke me up with the image of a new Temple planted firmly in my mind.

This is how I think my view and understanding of the Faith changed when I went on Pilgrimage. Piece by piece, over those few days, my poor understanding was replaced with a vision that was so much brighter. I never missed a talk while I was there, and took as many notes as I could, but still failed to learn even a fraction of what I could have. And yet now, years later, I realize that this was not important. What I learned on an intellectual level actually paled in comparison to what changed in my heart.

Perhaps this is why the Guardian said that visiting him was neither the purpose nor part of the Pilgrimage. What he did, and the value of it cannot be overestimated, was inspire the friends with a vision of the Faith that they could not have had before. Pilgrimage, however, inspires the heart, and leads the friends to do things they never could have before.

I finished the book in a very short time, that afternoon, I believe. It was very inspirational, but what really stands out to me is the memories of Pilgrimage that it evoked. And for that I am so grateful.

Today, when I think about this experience, two things really stand out. The first is that when I say my prayers, I almost always feel myself there at the Shrines. Interestingly enough, though, I don't picture myself when I was there with my family on a 3-day visit. No. I envision myself during that precious time of Pilgrimage, which a 3-day visit is not. There really is something sacred about the Pilgrim that I can't explain, but I know that I experienced it in a way that I didn't when I returned as a visitor. So today, when I am saying my prayers, it brings me right back to that time of my life when I was a Pilgrim.

Secondly, when I think of the friends in Iran, or any of the other Baha'is who are suffering today, or when I'm reading any part of the history of the Faith, especially those trials that the friends have had to endure, I remember the Prison Cell. I happened to be there in July, the last Pilgrimage group of the season before they closed down for the summer, so the windows were open, as they must have been in the time of the Blessed Beauty. In fact, there was no glass in the windows when He was there.

I remember sitting there, on one of the mats, hearing a cock crowing in the distance, thinking how poignant this was, as Baha'u'llah called the world to recognize a new dawn. How long, I wondered, will humanity remain unaware of this Divine Bird Who has called. As I thought this, I felt something on my leg, which was odd, since I was wearing pants. But there, under my knee, was a feather that I had not noticed before. This feather remained in my prayer book for years until I loaned it to a friend whose father was dying. When the book came back, all the flowers were still in it, but the feather was gone, winged away with her father's soul.

In the cell, though, I sat there, holding the feather, wondering. And then I noticed the iron bars in the windows, iron that was rusting away, and has since been replaced, but was there at the time. I saw the iron and I swear I saw it crying. There, in that cell, on that hot and dry day, I thought I saw drops rolling down the bars in the same manner as tears rolling down cheeks. For some reason it could not be mistaken for rain, and besides, there was not a cloud in the sky. Even the iron, I realized, weeps at the thought of having kept in the Blessed Beauty.

Oh, and there is a third thing that stands out, now that I think about it. My last time in the Shrine of the Bab, when I didn't know if I would ever return there again, I found myself standing there, saying a prayer in the nearly unbearable heat. It happened to be a particularly hot day, and most of the other Pilgrims only stayed in the Shrine a very short time. But I'm weird. I love the heat. So there I was, saying a prayer, practically alone, my eyes bone dry. But then I had the most unusual sensation. I began to sweat, except that it didn't feel like sweat at all. My body, all over my skin, began to weep. It didn't sheen like sweat usually does in those circumstances, but beaded, with exactly the same sensation that tears do when they well up in the eyes. While my eyes were dry, unable to produce a single drop, my body wept in their place.

Pilgrimage is a special time in our life, and if we are open to it, nothing is ever quite them same afterwards.

We are enjoined to make this journey at least once in our lifetime, and when referring to it in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, Baha'u'llah calls upon God, "the All-Bountiful, the Most Generous." It truly is a bounty to be able to go, and to share one's experience with others. And it also does show the overwhelming generosity of God.

I can only pray to be worthy of having had such an experience.

A Simple Conversation

2012-01-19T10:32:00.000-08:00

The past few days have had many more interesting conversations, some of which I thought I might share here with you. Well, one, actually. It just went for a while.

On Saturday evening, we took my brother-in-law to the airport, and then went on to Marielle's work party. (That just sounds like an oxymoron.) Shoghi was with us, so I kind of took care of him while Marielle schmoozed. (I just love that word. It's a shame I don't get to use it more often.)

Oh, this was after I talked with a woman who is about to go to boot camp. Marielle had told her to phone us if she ever needed a shoulder to cry on, so she thought it would be good if I met her, too. That way she would know who she was talking with if I happened to be the one answering the phone.

Anyways, after this conversation, Shoghi and I went into the lounge to watch soccer. It's not that we said, "Hey, let's watch a soccer game" and then sought out the lounge. No. We went to the lounge, saw the game on the television and decided to watch it.

I went up to the bar to get a glass of juice and the bartender, Alejandro, asked me if Shoghi liked soccer. We talked for a few minutes when I asked him where he was from. "Chile." "Oh? Santiago?" "No, Concepcion." I mentioned that I was hoping to get to Chile in about 5 or 10 years. He said that he hoped I'd make it, and then asked me why.

"They're building a Baha'i Temple there, and I hope to visit it some day."

He apologized for his ignorance and said that he didn't know what Baha'i was. Instead of giving him my usual 30-second response, I said that it was my religion, and that we recognized that all the major religions come from the same God.

He smiled a wistful sort of smile at that, and said that he had no belief in any religion. "But I wish I did."

I asked him about his background and he said that he grew up Catholic, but after seeing the hypocrisy of many leaders of religion, he could no longer believe.

I nodded in sympathy, for this really does touch my heart. "In the Baha'i Writings," I said, "Baha'u'llah says that there is no greater oppression than that a soul would seek for truth and not know where to find it."

It was as if he had been thirsty and given a cup of fresh water. His expression said that this was exactly what he had been trying to say for years.

The conversation went on from there, as Shoghi glanced over, heard some of the conversation, and then went back to watching the game. I learned later that he had said a prayer for both of us.

During the few minutes we had together, he asked a number of very important questions, and I know that the Concourse on High was helping me, for simple responses came quickly and fluently.

He spoke about science and religion, and how he believed in science. "Me, too." Science, I explained, is how we begin to understand the physical world around us, and exert a degree of control over our environment. "But there is more to the world than the material. There is also the spiritual side, and since there is only one universe, the two cannot contradict each other." I used the example of science and religion being the two wings of the bird of human knowledge. Not only did he love the concept, but he immediately understood that you needed both wings to fly.

He also questioned the concept of a God who punishes us. As he had earlier mentioned that he has a daughter, 7, I spoke of my training of Shoghi. I said that the laws of God, to me, are not there to punish us if we break them, but are there to warn us. One rule that I have had for Shoghi since day 1 is to not touch the hot stove. This is a law in our house. If Shoghi were to violate that law, I would never think of punishing him for it. No. He will have already punished himself by burning his hand. The law is there because I love Shoghi, and am aware of the nature of both his hand and the hot stove. I know that if they touch, his hand will burn. This, I said, is how I understand the laws of God. They are there to warn us of the natural consequences that will occur if we violate them.

By the time we had to leave, Alejandro said that he was very grateful for the conversation. "We were meant to talk tonight." He said that he had never heard religious ideas expressed in this way before, and that it gave him hope of finding a faith again in his heart.

My Giving Tree

2012-01-13T21:35:00.000-08:00

"Man", said Shoghi Effendi, "is organic with the world. His inner life moulds the environment and is itself deeply affected by it. The one acts upon the other and every abiding change in the life of man is the result of these mutual reactions."

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One of my favorite books as a child was "The Giving Tree", by Shel Silverstein. I can't begin to tell you how much I loved it. Perhaps that is why it made me so happy when Shoghi said that he loved it, too. But it wasn't always that way. The first time I read it to him we almost didn't make it to the end. He was crying too hard. I had to work hard to convince him that it had a happy ending, and to let me finish reading it. I was so grateful that he trusted me.

The story, as you may know, is about a tree that loves a little boy. The boy plays with the tree every day, making crowns out of her leaves, climbing in her branches and eating her apples, and even playing hide-and-seek with her. As you would expect, he grows up and visits less often. The rest of the story is about her offering him different things to help him try to learn to be happy. He wants some money, so she offers him her apples to sell. He wants a house, so she offers her branches. At the end, she is only a stump, and he is a tired, old man. She is able to offer him a quiet place to sit and rest. "And she was very happy." It's a beautiful story about generosity, and it allowed me the opportunity to ask Shoghi if he thought that money or a house would make the man happy. "No," he said, "of course not."

Last night we read the story again, and it made him so happy to see such generosity in action.

This morning, as I was walking him to his bus, he asked me if there really was a Giving Tree.

"Of course", I said, with all sincerity. "I had a Giving Tree when I was your age." And then I told him the following true story.

When I was a young boy, about the same age as Shoghi, I lived in a house on the corner of a street. There were houses all down our street, on both sides. But across the other street, the one at the side of our home, to the east, was a tree covered hill, a forest of small trees. Except for one tree. One of them was big, a giant amidst all the others. This was our Giving Tree.

This tree was a beautiful, big, old weeping willow. From my child-like perspective, she was about 1 meter diameter across, and there was a single branch reaching out towards the horizon. It must have been about a foot thick at the trunk, and at least 5 meters long. Even a six-year old could easily climb onto that magnificent branch and lean back against the trunk of the tree and fall asleep. If you were brave, you could straddle it like a horse, move way from the trunk, climbing further and further along that limb, and bounce on it. No greater steed was ever ridden by any valiant knight.

One day we were Robin Hood, standing on that mighty branch, making our daring plans. Another day we'd be blasting off into outer space, lying down on it as the countdown went on. And another day we'd be the cowboys chasing the bank robbers, three of us bouncing up and down, vying to see who would be in the lead as we scrambled back and forth on that limb. Scrapes, bruises, even broken bones: none of that mattered as we strove to be the heroes of the day.

But then one morning we went outside and there, across the street, was a truck: a bulldozer. They were going to build some new houses.

We never dreamed that anyone could possibly cut down such a beautiful tree. Oh, the smaller trees, and the bushes, sure, but not our old willow. Not our Giving Tree. It just wasn't possible.

We watched over the next few days as they made their plans and did their little markers which meant nothing to our young eyes, and wondered as the different trucks and things moved in. We didn't know what was going on, but we knew that something was going to change.

Over 35 years later I still get tears in my eyes when I think of the day I walked outside and saw her gone, an empty space where she once stood so majestically.

When I became friends with the kids who moved into one of those houses, I still saw her standing there every time I went over to their home, there in the dining room that had been built over where she had once stood.

Today I encourage my son to find his own Giving Tree, to find the magic in the woods and cherish every moment he can playing there with her. Whether he builds a tree house, or sees her as a new type of Transformer, it doesn't matter. If he comes home with a scraped knee, or even a broken bone, I will know that it was worth it when he tells me the heroic stories of daring-do that he and his friends did, his eyes aglow as he recounts every detail through the tears of pain.

And that, I told him this morning, is why I get tears in my own eyes when I look at the tree-covered hills looming a mile or two beyond our home and know that they will soon be bare of those makers of legends. Whose Giving Tree will we be cutting down when we raze a forest on a hill to make a dozen new houses? How many Giving Trees will be lost because we want our bigger and "better" homes?

No, we both agreed. We need to find the magic in the forest, treasure it, and help others to see it, too.

If there is anything that my Giving Tree gave to me, it was the ability to dream.

Becoming Sincere

2012-01-12T11:11:00.000-08:00

Oh wow. I never expected such a response to that last article. Actually, it wasn't really in response to the last article, but rather to the quote in the last article. (I guess I shouldn't be surprised by any response to the Writings, should I?)

It all began with my wife. You see, dear Reader, I often read these articles to her before posting them. This not only allows me to proof read them, but also prevents some of the more bozoic things I may say from actually getting out there. (I think "bozo" should be fully... what do you call the conjugatory form for adjectives? You know, bozoid, bozoic, bozoness, to name just three.)

So I read this to her (and she did have me change one thing, for which I'm very grateful), and she kind of jumped in surprise at that quote from Baha'u'llah I put in the end. You know, the one about growing in steadfastness. Anyways, it sort of surprised her and I guess she wasn't the only one. I'm surprised by how many people wrote to ask "Why?"

Well, as you know, I don't really have a clue. I'm no authority. And even though I've been doing an intensive study of the Kitab-i-Iqan with my friend Samuel, that by no means makes me an expert. (Trust me. I'm not.) But it did mean that I had run across this quote many times, and was not surprised by it in the least.

Oh, I'm sorry. Which quote? Well, here is more of it than I quoted yesterday:

Wert thou to ponder a while, thou wilt recognize that, apart from all these established truths and above-mentioned evidences, the repudiation, cursing, and execration, pronounced by the people of the earth, are in themselves the mightiest proof and the surest testimony of the truth of these heroes of the field of resignation and detachment. Whenever thou dost meditate upon the cavils uttered by all the people, be they divines, learned or ignorant, the firmer and the more steadfast wilt thou grow in the Faith. For whatsoever hath come to pass, hath been prophesied by them who are the Mines of divine knowledge, and Recipients of God's eternal law.

I'm not going to analyze this in my usual manner, for there are two things that really caught my attention when I started thinking about it, and going through it line by line doesn't lend itself to exploring those ideas.

To start, I want to contextualize this quote. It comes about 30 pages before the end of this 250-some page book. Baha'u'llah has just gone through an incredible analysis of that quote from Jesus in Matthew 24, and has set forth a lot of the proofs of the Bab's mission. (Don't take my word for it. Read the Kitab-i-Iqan for yourself.) Now, He is telling us that in addition to what He wrote before this quote, the previous 220 pages, we can also look at the "repudiation, cursing, and execration" against this Cause as a further proof.

Really? Why? Or perhaps that should be, how?

Well, that seems to be the question many of us have. I would have had it, too, except that in my own dim state it never occurred to me.

So why would this be the case? (I won't even bother going into the differences between those three words. I'll let you look them up, instead.)

And this, dear Reader, is where I'm treading on thin ice. I won't guarantee that this is in any way accurate, and I know it is certainly not authoritative, but it works for me, and that's good enough. I'm sure many of you will write in with your own more cogent thoughts.

It seems to me that looking at the derogatory comments about the Faith, and the absurd ways in which people try to attack it, can serve two purposes. The first is that it helps prevent us from asking those same silly questions. For example, if someone asks how it can be true, "because my parents weren't Baha'i", then we know that this is just silly. If our parents were the judges for our own path then we wouldn't have free will. We would only have our parent's choice. And by this criteria, the early Christians should have stayed Jews. So this argument, that of maintaining the family tradition, doesn't quite hold water. By looking at it, I won't fall prey to it myself if it comes up in my own mind. It becomes another one of the questions that I can just cross off my list and not bother about.

Oh, another question that I've been asked in the past is, "If it's true, why haven't I heard about it before now?" Well, the answer, to me, is that you're hearing about it now, aren't you? Timing doesn't validate or invalidate the truth, so that's another question I can cross off.

I could go on and on here, but seriously, why bother? By looking at these various grumblings, it gets rid of all the niggling little questions that really shouldn't even trouble me all that much.

But then there is a second point: He doesn't ask us to ignore the silly little arguments that people toss our way. He asks us to meditate upon them. Wow. Talk about trust in our capacity.

How often have I heard people tell me that they don't want to read any of Baha'u'llah's Writings because they might tempt them away from their own faith? Is their faith really that shaky?

Baha'u'llah trusts in our capacity. He has confidence in our own abilities to discern for ourselves. he doesn't seemed to be concerned, for He is supremely confident in the truth of His own Message.

Of course, it is also a test by which the sincere are separated from the wayward. When we say that we believe, the tests truly begin. "Think because ye say ye believe ye won't be tested?" And if we can be swayed by the "cavils uttered by all the people", then our faith wasn't all that strong to begin with.

It seems to me that Baha'u'llah isn't concerned about our falling away from the Faith. And this, too, may be for a couple of reasons. It may be that He trusts us to remain firm, or it may be that He only wants those who are firm. I'm not sure.

But let me say, I've known many who have joined the Faith and then left it again, and they're still good people. I don't think that what they call themselves has made much of a difference to their actual journey. I've also known some who became Baha'i, and then violated the Covenant. Well, that's an ego thing, and I don't think that's related here at all.

I think Baha'u'llah's vision for us is far greater than being concerned with what we call ourselves. He seems more concerned with helping us grow spiritually. And while I believe that being Baha'i can help the most in that regard, I don't believe that it is the only path to God. Nor do I believe that we all have to have the same label.

But I do think we need to be sincere. And I think we need to be confident in what we have come to understand in our own life. If some silly arguments by others can sway us, then perhaps we need to get a bit more backbone.

When Baha'u'llah asks me to not merely think about these arguments, nor to ignore them, but to meditate upon them, to deeply consider them, then I am grateful for His confidence in my own ability. I know there is a lot more that can be said on this, but I think I'll just meditate on it for now.

Enjoying the Moment

2012-01-10T10:27:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while, you are probably aware that I was asked to serve at the University of Victoria in their Multifaith Chaplaincy office. And while the official title is that of "Chaplain", which makes me both cringe and laugh at the thought of a "Baha'i Chaplain", I think of myself, and refer to myself as a "Baha'i Adviser".

Recap: Please feel free to skip this paragraph if you know the story. I had wondered what it was that I was supposed to do in this capacity of adviser. The previous advisers were not much help. I mean, they shared what they tried, but they hadn't met with much success, and so I had to look for new ways of trying things. The other Baha'is in the area went on and on about the core activities, but experience showed that nobody just came to them, except a few Baha'is. It's not that people weren't invited, but just that they weren't interested. So I took the radical step of talking to the students themselves. They said they wanted meditation. Thus began Meditation 101, a simple meeting in which we explore a different style of meditation each week. Oh, and this has led to a number of people asking about devotional gatherings, since I always mention that prayer and meditation are two aspects of that conversation with our Creator. By the way, out of the entire group of people who have come to this workshop, only 2 of the 30 or so were Baha'i. Recap done.

I have been learning so much from this meditation workshop I've been conducting. You would think that as the facilitator, I would probably know a bit about the subject, but the fact is that the longer I go on with it, the less I realize I knew.

Over the past little while a couple of interesting ideas arose that I thought would be good to share here.

Diet - The first is the many benefits of meditating while you are eating. This would be a form of sensory meditation. When you take a bite of food, you can allow yourself the joy of completely savoring it. Let the flavours spread over the tongue. See how they all combine with each other. Taste the various spices and herbs and see how they compliment each other. When you do this, you will find that you are eating far more slowly, which allows the food to get to your stomach before you take too many more bites. Your body will recognize that you have eaten enough, and you can stop eating at the proper time. When you rush through your meal, there are probably a number of bites that are still on the way down, and you will have overeaten. By only eating what you require, you also increase your body's ability to digest the food. You become more efficient and get more energy and nutrition out of each meal.

Beauty - One afternoon we decided to meditate on a flower in the garden just outside the chapel where I do Meditation 101. We took a few of the chairs outside and set them on the sidewalk in front of a hydrangea. It was awesome. We just sat there and looked at the flower, contemplating its beauty.

One of the participants said that she found that it was far more beautiful than she had ever noticed. By taking the time to actually look at it, instead of merely seeing it in passing, she became more enamored of it. She began to realize just how much more beauty was present in the world, in everyday objects, than she had ever thought possible. She said that this was a good way to learn to appreciate more of what is in the world.

Health - By practicing meditation, you take the time to really think about things. For myself, I found that my stress levels went down, not that I was all that stressed out to begin with. But there was a professor who commented on this. One afternoon after we had done a review meditation in which we recalled, to the best of our ability, our day moment by moment from the time when we awoke, he said he had gotten to a stressful moment in his day. There was an interoffice issue that had arisen, and they had been struggling with what to do. It was the cause of much stress and anxiety. By taking the time to go back and review it, he said that a much more comprehensive, and simpler, solution presented itself. This noticeably lowered his anxiety level.

Stress, as I'm sure we all know, is a major cause of health problems. By taking the time meditate, review and contemplate our life, it not only helps us deal with our stress, but also puts our entire life into a healthier perspective. Just how important are those little things that get us upset? (I'm one to talk. You should hear me rant about the dirty dishes. I should practice meditation in the kitchen. Beyond the eating aspect.)

Spiritual Growth - By reading the Writings and meditating upon them, we grow spiritually. There were a few sessions where we read a passage from the Writings and then meditated upon it, or we meditated while chanting the Greatest Name. The response to these two styles of meditation were profound. I wasn't sure what to expect, but people really loved them.

I know many people who read sacred texts, but don't take the time to meditate upon them. They read them in the same manner they would a good novel. While it is good to read them, it is better to meditate upon them, too. It is through this contemplation that we can develop our spiritual qualities. As we do this, we will see that our spiritual perceptiveness will also grow every day.

Baha'u'llah adds something else into this mix, as I'm sure you can imagine. If we were to "meditate upon the cavils uttered by all the people," He says, "be they divines, learned or ignorant, the firmer and the more steadfast wilt thou grow in the Faith." Here it is not just meditating upon the sacred texts, but also upon the trivial objections against the faith by others. By doing this, our steadfastness increases, and given the importance of steadfastness in our faith, that can only be a good thing.

In addition to all the above, meditating, to me, means taking the time to enjoy the beauty of the world around us. This has so many advantages it is hard to include them all here. Our life is so fleeting, so precious, and our time is so scarce that we really need to enjoy each and every moment of it. Meditation is when I take the time to try and appreciate it.

Well, time for me to go meditate in the woods with my wife. It's a beautiful sunny day, and we want to take full advantage of it.

A Holiday Journey, parts 1 and 2

2012-01-08T20:45:00.003-08:00

It's that time of the season again: I have three articles going into my local newspaper. Here are two of them:

http://blogs.timescolonist.com/2012/01/06/a-holiday-journey-part-1/

http://blogs.timescolonist.com/2012/01/08/a-holiday-journey-part-2/

I hope you enjoy them.

A Chance Encounter

2012-01-07T08:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Shoghi, Marielle and I were walking along downtown, heading to a store to get Shoghi's new glasses. We walked through a parking lot and there, in the corner, was a Dodge Ram truck with some really interesting tail lights. He pointed to them and said, "Wow! They're so beautiful." "Yeah," I replied, "they're so cool." To which Shoghi replied, "No, it's beautiful."

This led to an interesting little discussion in which he asked what the difference was between beautiful and cool.

Have you ever tried to explain the difference to a 6 year-old? It's not easy. But I gave it my best shot. What I came up with in the end was that cool is unusual and interesting, but not necessarily pleasing to look at, while beautiful is very pleasing to all the senses and the soul.

I talked a little bit about the importance of beauty, and then felt that I needed to conclude with the statement "Beauty is very important in our life because it is an attribute of the divine."

And a man who had just passed us on the sidewalk stopped, turned around, and said, "Excuse me, but did I just hear you say that beauty is an aspect of God?" It was obvious from his countenance that he knew this was true, but was trying to understand it. "I've never heard it put that way before."

I'm not going to go into too much detail here, but it was a fascinating conversation on the sidewalk. He knew that he agreed with the idea that beauty is an aspect of God, and that what passes for "beauty" in society is not the same. (I forgot to add that he said "True beauty uplifts the spirit while false beauty tries to control it." Isn't that a great distinction?)

This singular statement of mine, along with Marielle's loving kindness towards him, and our encouragement of him to share his own personal wisdom learned throughout his life, opened him up to ask if there were any Baha'i activities that he could attend. Naturally we spoke about a prayer gathering, "in which people can share whatever prayers they feel like sharing, or just listen if that's what makes them more comfortable". You see, in the conversation, he mentioned that his wife had passed away a couple years ago, and his daughter four years before that. He also mentioned that he was having some health issues, so a prayer gathering seemed most appropriate to his needs.

We also mentioned the idea of a study circle, and he said that would be good, too. When he asked what the study was like, I mentioned that there was no pre-supposition that the tutor knew more than the participants. It was recognized that we all had an understanding of spiritual issues, and that the tutor was there to help us see implications of things that we may have missed. He appreciated that, especially when Marielle said that it was a lot like our conversation that we had just had.

With a hearty round of handshakes and smiles, we all went on our way. He went to buy his tea in Chinatown and we went to get Shoghi's new glasses.

As we continued walking, I asked Marielle how it was that I happened to mention that beauty is an aspect of God, for I couldn't recall after all the tangents the conversation had. She was the one who recalled the Dodge truck and the question of beauty versus cool. When we got to the eyeglasses place, I sat down and wrote up my notes of this conversation with Louis in order to share it here. I think it is a nice little example of following the instincts and sharing something that may seem odd at first, but then allowing it to go where it will. By being open with my own spiritual understanding, and being neither shy nor forceful, asking the other person questions, it all led to a very natural invitation to both a study circle and a devotional gathering.

Yeah, I think it was a good lesson for me.

A Book List

2012-01-06T09:32:00.002-08:00

I normally think of December and January, not to mention February and parts of March, as a good time of the year to snuggle up in a big puffy blanket with a hot cup of cocoa and a good book. I say normally because here in Victoria it's about 7 degrees Celsius (which is about 45 Fahrenheit, for those of you who live in Jamaica, Belize or the United States), as opposed to the -20 that I'm used to at this time of year.

And so I thought I'd take a few minutes to share a bit of what I'm reading these days.

"The Maxwells of Montreal" (406 pages) - This is a wonderful book about May and Sutherland Maxwell, filled with all sorts of anecdotes and previously unpublished letters. It's by Violette Nakhjavani, with assistance from Bahiyyih Nakhjavani, and I have to tell you, I'm glad for Bahiyyih's assistance. I've also been reading Violette's book about Ruhiyyih Khanum, May and Sutherland's daughter, called "The Great African Safari" (586 pages), and it's a slog to get through. I mean, I love the various stories and extracts from talks in it, they're priceless, but it's just overwhelmed with too much detail about how bad the roads were and the names of every single individual they met during the journey. Some day I would love to extract the "good bits" and read the 60 pages that are left. And this is not to say don't read TGAS, because those good bits are worth the rest of the book. But The Maxwells is incredible. It reads so beautifully and is just chock-filled with stories and anecdotes that you will want to share with your family, your neighbours, your neighbour's family, their cousins and the cousin's dog, too. There are some wonderful letters from the Master to May and Sutherland, not to mention other people, and even a beautiful prayer by Mirza Abu'l-Fadl. You really begin to get an idea of why May is considered one of the greatest teachers in Baha'i history. Through the love she showed, and how others reacted to her, we can learn so much about how to improve our own teaching work. This book is truly a treasure for the ages. And it's only volume one. I can't wait for volume two.

The second book I'm reading, as I mentioned above, is "The Great African Safari" (586 pages), by Violette Nakhjavani. I don't have anything else to add to what I said above, except that it really does have some great bits in it.

The third book is "Rejoice in My Gladness: the Life of Tahirih" (331 pages), by Janet Ruhe-Schoen. Again, it is a fantastic book, filled with lots of stories and anecdotes that I hadn't read before. I am finding it a bit more difficult to read than The Maxwells, but I think that is more me than the book. For anyone who wants to read about Tahirih's life from the perspective of a very gifted writer and historian, they could do no better than this one. It is a great companion volume to those other books about her poetry by Hatcher and Hemmat, "Adam's Wish" and "The Poetry of Tahirih". As I haven't read too much of it yet, I can't say more about it at this time.

I just finished "I Loved Thy Creation" (495 pages), the short story works of Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, one of my favorite fantasy authors. She has a marvelous way of incorporating the Baha'i teachings into her work, and I dearly wish she'd write more (hint hint, just in case she's reading this). While I still prefer her full length novels (The Meri, The Crystal Rose, and Taminy, in particular), these short stories give an insight into how we can use the teachings of the Faith in the arts. The first in the collection, Hand Me Down Town, is a beautiful example of taking a very sad real life occurrence, applying the teachings, and seeing what could happen. In this case, it's the absurd law that a California town passed outlawing homelessness. By applying the idea of true generosity, she comes up with a beautiful and touching little story.

"Abraham: One God, Three Wives, Five Religions" (210 pages) is another interesting read. While the story is pretty much what you would expect, that of Abraham's life, it is very well written and enjoyable. What I liked most, though, was the author says in the introduction. She says that her basic rules for gathering the information are quite simple: when scripture and tradition disagree, scripture wins; and when old and new scripture disagree the newest scripture wins because it is the newest Word of God.

"'Abdu'l-Baha in Their Midst" (337 pages) was an absolute joy. This book, which filled in many gaps for me in my knowledge of the Master's visit to the West, is one that I have referred to many times in this blog. If we are ever looking for more examples of how we should act towards others, how we should behave in our teaching work, this book is a must.

Another one that goes so well here is "Lighting the Western Sky" (276 pages), the story of the first pilgrimage group from the West. In fact, looking over this list again, I realize just how amazing it is to read "The Maxwells" along with these last two books all at the same time. We are talking so much about the importance of developing community, and how to reach out and teach other souls, and we have so many incredible examples right here. Time and again I see these signs, t-shirts or whatever that ask "What would Jesus do", and the truth is that we don't know. He was a Manifestation of God and acted in such a way as to transform an entire civilization. But here, in this religion, we can ask ourselves "What would Abdu'l-Baha do" and see clear examples in the stories from just a couple generations ago. These three books are not only filled with priceless stories of what the Master did in some fairly unusual circumstances, as well as some other situations that we still face every day, but they also contain stories of how our own communities were founded by such heroes as May Maxwell and Lua Getsinger.

The last book I'm reading right now is "Wonderstruck" (629 pages). This is another great work of fiction, ostensibly written for children, but good for kids of all ages. I'm not listing the other myriad works of fiction that I've been reading, for most of them are not worthy of mention. But Wonderstruck is beautiful. It is filled with gorgeous illustrations, and helps remind us of the wonder that is to be found everywhere in the world. I know it's not a Baha'i book, nor is the author Baha'i, but who cares? We need to look at all areas of human knowledge, not just what is found within our own small community. So this is another book I can highly recommend.

Last but not least, you may have noticed that the running total is 3270 pages, not counting the 8 or 9 other works of fiction that I didn't count, which total approximately 3500 pages, nor the Sacred Texts that I read every day, nor what I read on the internet. Conservatively, I've probably read about 7500 pages in the last few months, and this is average for me. I read while I'm eating by myself, on the bus, waiting for someone, every chance I get. I read about a page a minute, and easily find 90 minutes in total throughout the day, so 100 per day is not all that much. While I do read faster than the average person, it's not really all that fast. Most of us can easily read a page every two minutes, and can easily find random minutes throughout the day when we can open up a book and read a page or two.

Why do I mention this? Simple. Many years ago I had the incredible opportunity to take a class by one of my favorite writers. At the end of it, he made us all swear that, if we wanted to really be a writer, we would read for at least 20 minutes a night before going to bed, in addition to all the other reading we do during the day. If we miss our reading one night, we are to read for an hour the next. This was back in 1986, and I've missed very few nights since that time. Do the math. It comes out to nearly 3045 hours of additional reading.

In other words, in addition to all the reading I do in my daily life, I still read an extra 20 minutes each night. (You can ask my wife. She'll vouch for me.) That comes to an additional 120 hours per year. How much, I ask you, can you read in 120 hours? It adds up pretty fast.

I wasn't a Baha'i when I began this little night-time reading. Now I am. And Baha'u'llah tells us to read a bit of Sacred Text each evening. Combine these two, and we can easily read an additional 120 hours of Sacred Text every year. Pretty awesome that.

Besides, there really isn't much that is more comforting than snuggling up in that blanket with a good book and nice hot cup of whatever. Hmm. It's getting late. It's dark outside. And I sense a cup of tea calling my name. I wonder what I'll read now?

Why Study a Prayer

2012-01-05T20:20:00.002-08:00

This is a question I seem to get asked a lot: Why study a prayer? You know, it is that second practice in Ruhi Book 1, Reflections on the Life of the Spirit, but why is it that we do it?

As usual, I don't really know, but I can make an educated guess, based, of course, on experience. Most of us, and I'm not only referring to members of the Baha'i community, have a difficult time talking about spiritual issues with our friends or acquaintances, not to mention our neighbours and co-workers. You'll note that I put those two last because they seem to be the most difficult groups for many of us to initiate these sorts of conversations. Why? Because they are the ones that we spend the most time with, and have the least control about it. We can't really choose our co-workers or our neighbours. We're kind of stuck with them, for better or worse. (Maybe not 'til death do us part, but you get the idea.) If we annoy or offend our co-workers or neighbours, we still have to be around them most of the time. If we tick off our friends or acquaintances, well, we can leave them be for a short time, if we want.

I think we are all aware of the importance of talking about spiritual issues, so the question is how do we do it?

For most of us, studying a prayer is a safe and encouraging way to start.

You see, dear Reader, we're not asking them to pray with us, for that could be intrusive for many. I know that it isn't for me, but it is for some, and we need to respect that. There are many that I have met who do not want to pray with others, nor do they feel comfortable with the idea. Prayer is a very personal thing for them, and they prefer to do it "in the privacy of (their) chamber", if you will.

We're also not asking them to memorize a prayer, even though we are all aware of the benefits of that. I'm certain you know the Bab said, "every breast which committeth His Words to memory, God shall cause, if it were that of a believer, to be filled with His love", so we don't need to go into that. Besides, memorizing is a lot of work for many of us, and many people just don't want to have to do more work.

Studying a prayer, however, is different. It's safe, and can be done over a cup of tea. It can take as long or as short a time as we want. There is no set way of doing it. And there is no prescribed prayer that we have to study. It can be any one.

This is where it can become a source of encouragement to the other: we can ask them to choose the prayer. And I don't mean that we should hand them a Baha'i prayer book and ask them to choose from a whole pile of prayers that they've never seen before, although we can, if we want. No. I mean that we can ask them to pick any prayer that they want. Any one. While we may be aware that "the revealed Word is endowed with a power of its own", this is not to say that other prayers have no power. They do, and they are also beautiful, and worthy of study. We only need to read the prayers of St Francis of Assisi, or those of Hand of the Cause of God, George Townshend, or even those of Mirza Abu'l-Fadl, to realize that.

When we ask someone else to choose a prayer that they know and love, then we are not only acknowledging their faith, we are showing respect, too.

Then, if they like the experience, there will be a next time. At that point you can feel free to share a prayer that touches your heart.

By studying a prayer, it opens a dialogue on a spiritual level. It also helps us all realize why some of these prayers are considered so profound and beautiful. We begin to get a deeper understanding of what it is we are saying, and what it is these prayers are doing for our life.

Of course, there are many other reasons why we should study prayers, but this is just one, and it works for me.

The Laughter of Love

2012-01-04T19:42:00.000-08:00

Marielle and I have shared this story so many times that I am certain it will go down through history as part of our family lore. So why, then, have I never shared it here? No clue.

But just this evening, Shoghi asked me about it, and after I told it to him again, he suggested that I write it here. And so, dear Reader, here it is: the story of love and laughter.

By now, if you are a regular reader of this poor author's thoughts on the Baha'i Faith and how they apply to his life, you are well aware of my deep and abiding love for my wife. As I was talking to my son, Shoghi, I asked him if he could imagine me without her. "Yes", he said, but he was also aware of just how lonely I would be. Then he asked me why I was laughing just after the two of us had gotten married.

You see, dear Reader, a few weeks after our wedding, Marielle and I came home one afternoon and were fairly tired. We plopped down on the bed, and just lay there, next to each other, on the blankets. We were probably well on the way to falling asleep, when I realized just how happy I was to be married to this wonderful soul lying next to me. It is not for nothing that I often introduce myself, when she is there, by saying "I have the bounty of being her husband."

Well, this sudden realization of happiness made me smile. (Ain't that sweet?)

What happened from there can only be described as a cascading effect. Perhaps "avalanche" would be a better word.

When I realized that I was smiling because I was so happy at the thought of being married to her, that realization made me smile even more. Of course, then I realized that I was smiling even more because I realized that I was smiling because of my joy at being her husband, and that made me smile even more than more. And then I realized that I was smiling even more than more because I realized that I was smiling even more because I was smiling because of my joy at being her husband, and that made my smile so big that it metamorphosed into laughter.

And that's when it all began to take a turn... well not for the worse, but just a turn.

Because, you see, dear Reader, when I realized that I was so happy at being her husband that I was even laughing for joy, I began to laugh even more, which made me even more happy which made me laugh even harder, which made me realize that I had severely underestimated the exact degree of my joy which made me laugh even harder than before which... You get the idea.

Except for one thing.

You are probably imagining me laughing aloud while lying on the bed, with my wife wondering what was so funny.

But that's not it at all.

You see, there are many different ways that people laugh, as Mary Poppins and Burt pointed out in the movie of her name. Some people let out a blasting guffaw, while others only titter and flit like a little bird. Some snicker, while others give a hearty laugh from deep within their belly. There are those who let out a little chuckle, as if enjoying some mildly amusing personal witticism, and others who continue to burble and bubble with the laughter welling up deep inside them, unable to stop for love or money. But not me.

Below are just a few examples, and I recommend continuing reading with the laughter in the background.

I don't do any of those.

My laughter, unless I am conscious of it and able to change it, is silent. Dead silent. If I were laughing in a room with a blind person, they would never know I was laughing, except they would probably begin to wonder why I am suddenly so quiet. I am the sort of person that people love to have in the movie theatre during a particularly funny scene, because they can still hear what is going on. Yup. That's me.

Oh, and it's not that I don't give any signs of laughter, just that's audibility is not one of them.

So what signs do I give, you ask? I'm glad you did. I go through all the physical motions of laughter, including the broad smile on my face, the tearing in the eyes, and the shaking of the body.

Please place the emphasis on the last: the shaking of the body.

That is probably the most obvious sign.

So there we were, lying peacefully on the bed together, minding our own business, relaxing after a tiring day, when all of a sudden Marielle feels the bed starting to shake, almost as if there were a light tremor within the earth. Now anyone who lives in a city is familiar with this effect, usually due to a large truck rumbling by outside. It often passes after a moment or two, and we no longer think about it.

But this trembling went on. And, to her concern, it began to get worse.

After a few more moments, she realized that the source of this trembling was not, in fact, deep within the earth, or the result of a fleet of trucks going past our window in a convoy, but due to the presence of her newly married partner, her espousal unit for all of eternity, which may have suddenly been seeming a lot longer than previously imagined.

By this point I had realized that I was so overjoyed at the thought of being married to her that I was laughing hysterically that I began to laugh even harder, which moved the shaking aspect of the laughter from merely residing in my shoulders to my entire upper body.

Which was when Marielle began to get seriously concerned. "Did he", she wondered, "forget to tell me that he has some sort of medical condition, like epilepsy?" And being the dutiful wife that she is, she asked, "Are you ok?"

Which I thought was hilarious.

Which made me laugh even more.

Which made her even more concerned.

Which I thought was even more hilarious.

Which made me laugh even more than more.

Which made her seriously consider calling an ambulance.

Which I thought was even more hilariouser.

I'll tell you, dear Reader, I never had to struggle so hard in my life as at that moment, when I had to control my laughter just enough to be able to tell her, as best I could, that I was only laughing. I really was ok. There was no need for an ambulance. Or for her to stick a wallet in my mouth.

Now, I'm sure I didn't say anything nearly that coherent, but she did begin to get the idea that this was not in the realm of a physical abnormality. Mental abnormality maybe, but not physical.

Even after telling her that all was ok, she was still kind of wondering. In fact, I'm certain that she is still wondering about it to this day.

But that's all right. Laughter and joy have just added more to our relationship, and for that I am very grateful. I hope that it lasts until the end of my days.

Actually, I hope it becomes the end of my days, sort of like Nabil of Qa'in, of whom the Master wrote of his passing, "He was sitting up, and conversing. He was radiant, laughing, joking, but for no apparent reason the sweat was pouring off his face -- it was rushing down. Except for this he had nothing the matter with him. The perspiring went on and on; he weakened, lay in his bed, and toward morning, died."

Yeah. That would be a good way to go. Laughing hysterically, radiant and joking, with my great-grandchildren by my side.

12 December 2011 Message

2012-01-03T13:46:00.001-08:00

You may have been wondering why I hadn't posted anything on the recent message that came out from the Universal House of Justice on 12 December 2011 (hence the title of this article). Well, dear Reader, there are a few reasons. First, I've been spending time with my family, as well as working on my book. (My chain art has gone by the wayside for a few days.) (I'm going to work on that when Marielle is back at work.)

Second, I just wasn't sure what to say. I mean, it's addressed to National Spiritual Assemblies, and I'm certainly not a member of one of those august institutions.

But our National Assembly sent it out to our local Assembly, and they asked if we could all study it last night. Alas, though, I was not at that meeting and so I did not partake of the benefits of the group's wisdom. (Due to my selfishness, I decided not to share a minor tummy malady with the other members of the community. Can you believe it?)

Yesterday morning, before said tummy malady, I had a couple of hours to kill while waiting for the car to have it's winter tires put on, so I began to study it on my own, thinking that at least then I would have some questions to ask in the evening. And so the first thing I did was look at the outline contained with the various headings:

Intro (That's not really there, but I added it) - paragraphs 1 and 2
The Path of Service - paragraphs 3 - 6
Coordination - paragraphs 7 - 12
Classes for Children - paragraphs 8 - 15
Educational Materials - paragraphs 16 - 20
Out-tro (that's not really there, either) - paragraph 21

Most of this letter, as you have seen, does not really concern the average believer, but it is wonderful to see the letters that are guiding our higher institutions. In the greater community we would refer to this as "transparency", but as we do not suffer from the lack of trust of these institutions, we call it "shared guidance". I truly love this community.

In my own usual manner, and without the wise input of my Assembly, I'm just going to go through this a bit at a time and share some of my own meager thoughts. I'm fairly sure that many more of you will lend me your wisdom later.

On to paragraph 1, and I'm presuming you have access to a copy, so I'm not re-printing it here.

The first thing that caught my attention was the outline for the continuum we move through when we study the recent guidance and deliberate on "the nature and extent of capacity developed". They talk about the efforts of homefront pioneers and the "first stirrings" of the institute process, and how this grows into a "pattern of rigorous activity", presumably based upon this program, and how this leads to "gaining mastery over the dynamics that characterize rapidly expanding, relatively large communities."

Of course, this all begs a few questions:

What is the nature of the capacity we have developed?
What are these dynamics that characterize these rapidly expanding communities?

Unfortunately, I'm not in a position to even begin to speculate on these questions, but I certainly would love to hear what those who are in a position to have a vision about them think about them.

In the second paragraph, I love how they "note the degree of effort being exerted" without mentioning what that degree is. Obviously it differs from community to community, from cluster to cluster. Regardless, they are happy to note the degree of effort, for this presumably helps them get a better understanding of what is happening in the world and are therefore in a position to feed back to us what they have learned. What is interesting, though, is that they link this effort to the degree of number of people who actively participate in the work required to being into reality a New World Order. The greater our effort, the greater the numbers, and the faster we will bring this New World Order into existence. Of course, the converse is true, too.

They also give a list of the pieces (I'm sure there's a better word, but I can't think of it right now) involved in the institute process:

The Institute Board
The Coordinators, regardless of level
The tutors, animators and children's class teachers
The promotion of an environment conducive at once to universal participation and mutual support and assistance

This last one is the most interesting, for it has been mentioned many times in other letters, but is intriguing here in this list. I also, on a personal note, often think that these lists are a crescendo, not a decrescendo. At least I have found this to be true in the Writings of Baha'u'llah, so I often presume it here, too, in the letters from the World Centre.

When reading it yesterday, I had to ask myself how this list, in this order, could be seen as a crescendo. It seems to me that the Board, as a body, has very little direct interaction with the generality of the community. They provide grand overarching guidance, but this is mostly impacting the coordinators, and how they carry out their own work. Even the coordinators don't have much direct interaction with the generality of the community, except as they are acting as tutors, in which case they are serving as tutors, not as coordinators. What they do, for the most part, is offer guidance and direction to the tutors, animators and teachers. And it is these precious souls, this vast army of people motivated by the guidance that they receive from all these levels, from the World Centre on down, who have the direct contact with the individuals. These are the people who have the most direct impact on the affairs of the Faith at the local level. but none of this could happen without that environment spoken of in that last phrase above. It is this environment, conducive to universal participation and mutual support and assistance, that encourages the friends to become more involved and lend their effort to this mighty endeavour. And so now it really does seem to me to be that crescendo that I was looking for. While it may seem like a top down approach, it is, in reality, a grass roots movement that is being analyzed at the various levels and wisely guided into more and more effective lines of action by those with broader and broader perspectives that may not be readily seen at the local grass roots level.

This all leads to yet another observation: If I am concerned about the level of activity in my own neighbourhood or community, or if I am concerned about the growth of the Faith in my region, then it seems to me that the Universal House of Justice has directly tied this to my personal "degree of effort" in adding to the vitality of the institute process.

Now we move on to part 2 of this letter, "The path of service", which begins with a bit of a history, which I will not go into here, for you can read it yourself. Instead I will focus on what seems to be new: their observations on pedagogy. They point out that the organizing principle of the Ruhi Institute is "developing capacity to serve the Cause and humanity in a process that is likened to walking a path of service."

From here, in paragraph 4, they look at the metaphor involved, and the implications of walking this path of service. I just love it.

Looking at the implications of the concept of a path, they note the following:

Invites participation
Beckons to new horizons
Demands effort and movement
Accommodates different paces and strides
Is structured and defined
Can be experienced and known by scores upon scores
It belongs to the community

To walk this path, they say, is equally expressive.

It requires volition and choice
Calls for a set of skills and abilities but also elicits certain qualities and attitudes
Necessitates logical progression but admits, when needed, related lines of exploration
May seem easy at the outset but becomes more challenging further along
"And crucially, one walks the path in the company of others."

From here on out, the majority of the letter is primarily concerned with things that are not within the purview of the individual, and I won't go into much discussion here about them, for they don't really impact my life at this time. (And remember, this is all about how I apply the teachings to my own life.)

But what does interest me is paragraph 19.

In this paragraph they talk about the importance of the arts and the generation of a global culture that allows for and encourages the development of culture at the local level. "Propelled by forces generated both within and outside the Baha'i community, the peoples of the earth can be seen to be moving from divergent directions, closer and closer to one another, towards what will be a world civilization so stupendous in character that it would be futile for us to attempt to imagine it today." They also remind us that as this occurs, there are some parts of our own culture that will fall away, being deemed as either useless or detrimental. "By the same token, new elements of culture will evolve over time as people hailing from every human group, inspired by the Revelation of Baha'u'llah, give expression to patterns of thought and action engendered by Hi teachings, in part through artistic and literary works." And so this new culture will be partly, though not exclusively, seen through the various arts. Culture is, after all, far more than just the artistic expression that is generated. The way of doing something, the patterns of thought and action, as they say, are part of culture, too. Anyone who has ever traveled across the globe and seen the workings of another culture are well aware of this.

But then there is the caution: "such an efflorescence of creative thought will fail to materialize, should the friends fall, however inadvertently, into patterns prevalent in the world that give licence to those with financial resources to impose their cultural perspective on other, inundating them with materials and products aggressively promoted." Now I have a better understanding of why it bothers me when people ask me if I know "THE" song for a quote in Ruhi Book 1, or whatever. There is no "THE". The Writings are what they are, and we can superimpose them on any piece or style of music that we desire. There are many tens, or even hundreds, of versions of songs for all the quotes in Ruhi Book 1, not to mention the other books, or even the children's classes. And hearing the same words sung in so many different ways is joyous and uplifting. It also helps me realize just how universal this Faith is.

This is also not to deny the importance of sharing these songs, for all those songs that were shared back in the 70s, 60s, 50s or even back in the 20s, have now become universal and are enjoyed by Baha'is all the world over. We can go into most any community throughout the planet and sing "Allah huma" or that version of "Blessed is the Spot" that I know, but can't specifically reference. And there are also those songs that are from India, Congo, the Philippines, and so on, that are also known around the world. It's so wonderful.

So even though a vast part of this letter is not exactly relevant to me at this time, I am so glad to have been able to read it. Just in case no one else says it, "Thank you, Universal House of Justice, for this rich guidance that you are providing. Thank you."

Internet Postings

2011-12-31T16:37:00.001-08:00

I just got back in town, and am sitting in a pizzeria (that just makes it sound like a dump. This place is awesome. Prima Strada is a beautiful place in an old garage, with awesome food and incredible service) waiting for my car to be repaired (got a flat driving a friend to the ferry the other day) (no good deed goes unpunished). So far this place exemplifies excellence and service. (Just had a bite of the food: wow. If you're ever in the area, I highly recommend it.)

So, where was I?

Oh yes. I just got back in town and saw a FaceBook message waiting for me from a dear friend in Winnipeg. This is a woman I met when I used to sell my jewelry in a bar. It was a goth bar, and they asked me to set up a table, which I did. It was kind of fun (especially when I took another Baha'i, and as we walked into the dark foggy place with people dressed in rubber and leather he looked at me and quietly said "Help"). So I met this woman who had just turned 18, the legal drinking age, and she liked to hang around my table and talk with me. She noticed that I never touched alcohol, and that whenever anyone offered to buy me a drink, I graciously accepted, and asked for either an orange juice or a V-8. Years later she said that this was an example to her that she could go out to the bars with her friends and not have to get drunk, so you never know. This is the friend who sent me the following:

I've noticed a recent trend amongst my Athiest friends and acquaintances lately. They've been openly posting insults and ridicule other peoples faiths and religions in the name of "freedom of expression". Although I don't consider myself a religious person, I still find their comments hurtful. I feel this type of activity would fall under the category of Bigotry, according to this definition below:

"A bigot is a person obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices, especially one exhibiting intolerance, and animosity toward those of differing beliefs. The predominant usage in modern English refers to persons hostile to those of differing sex, race, ethnicity, religious beliefs or spirituality, nationality, language, inter-regional prejudice, gender and/or sexual orientation, age, homelessness, various medical disorders particularly behavioral disorders and addictive disorders."

In the past, I've simply blocked or un-friended these individuals, but lately I've been wondering if I should stand up to them and point out their activity instead of hiding how I feel about it.

What do you do when confronted by people like this?

I was going to reply in FB, but then I realized that I, too, have noticed this trend. In fact, I've sometimes been responsible for it, by posting forward articles that could be seen in this light (namely articles about "religious" people who make bozoid statements that only make you shake your head in disbelief, and could be seen as amusing except for the fact that they further undermine the influence of religion in today's society).

But let's go back to my friend's concern. I've had a bit of a chance to think about this, as I received it nearly two hours ago, and this is how I want to approach it. First, I want to remove any specifics, by looking at the first paragraph like "I've noticed a recent trend. People are openly posting insults..." By removing the specific "atheists", I find that it is still true and more generally applicable. Whether it is about atheists posting against theists (I can't say "people of faith" for atheists have faith in there being no God), Christians against Muslims, Jews against gentiles, vegetarians against meat-eaters, or whatever other group against whichever other group: it doesn't matter. The intention is the same. It is to show that "we" are better than "them".

Second, I think I would avoid the label "bigot". To me, this becomes judgmental. They may be acting in a bigoted manner, but they are still a noble being. Instead of condemning the person, I would condemn the action. They are engaging in behaviour that is unseemly, unworthy. This is an old technique that works really well in helping modify behaviour: look at the behaviour, not the person. "You are a bigot" is far more insulting than "That is a bigoted action".

Now that I've got all that out of the way, let's look at what is happening. In general, from what I've seen, there are a number of posts on the net lately about silly individuals, who happen to be priests, mullahs, atheists, plumbers, vegans or whatever. These stories are reporting the truth, but they are also deriding, or even demeaning the people involved. They are using the truth to make people look bad, or make fun of them. They are speaking unfavourably about the people involved, belittling them, disparaging or deprecating them. In short, these comments are nothing less than backbiting.

And there we have it: the spiritual principle.

Now that this has been identified, the overriding question is what to do about it. This is what my friend asked.

As you may know, this is one of the questions that is asked in Ruhi Book 1. What do we do when we encounter backbiting? We know from the Writings of Baha'u'llah that "backbiting quencheth the light of the heart, and extinguisheth the life of the soul", so this really quite important.

So here goes: What do you, dear Reader, do when you are faced with backbiting? What do you do?

It's Only My Own Opinion

2011-12-21T11:52:00.000-08:00

I'm reading a new book right now, and the author brought to mind a couple of ideas that I wanted to share. (Actually, I want to share a few other ideas from the book, at least my own thoughts on them, but only after I share these two.)

In the very beginning, part 1, he does something that I regularly do here in this blog: He says that what we are about to read is only his own opinion and nothing official. As you know, dear Reader, this is something that I do regularly (very regularly) (in practically every article, it seems).

Well, this guy says it far better than I ever have, and with quote to back him up. He starts with this wonderful quote from the Universal House of Justice, found in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, way back in the notes:

The existence of authoritative interpretations does not preclude the individual from engaging in the study of the Teachings and thereby arriving at a personal interpretation or understanding. A clear distinction is, however, drawn in the Bahá'í Writings between authoritative interpretation and the understanding that each individual arrives at from a study of its Teachings. Individual interpretations based on a person's understanding of the Teachings constitute the fruit of man's rational power and may well contribute to a greater comprehension of the Faith. Such views, nevertheless, lack authority. In presenting their personal ideas, individuals are cautioned not to discard the authority of the revealed words, not to deny or contend with the authoritative interpretation, and not to engage in controversy; rather they should offer their thoughts as a contribution to knowledge, making it clear that their views are merely their own.

Ok. So, as I've said many times, and will continue to say over and over (and over and over) (and over and over) again, this blog is all just my own opinion. The views are merely my own. It is what works for me, and I make no claims on it working for anyone else (although I think it can't hurt). (Hey, maybe I can institute a money-back guarantee.)

Secondly, the author of this little book makes another point very clear, and that is his understanding of the importance of seeing the meaning beyond the mere literal when reading sacred texts.

In the Kitab-i-Iqan, Baha'u'llah says, "As they have literally interpreted the Word of God, and the sayings and traditions of the Letters of Unity (the Prophets of God)... they have therefore deprived themselves and all their people of the bountiful showers of the grace and mercies of God."

"The divine Words", 'Abdu'l-Baha further elucidates, "are not to be taken according to their outer sense... It is not the reading of the words that profits you; it is the understanding of their meanings... All the texts and teachings of the holy Testaments have intrinsic spiritual meanings. They are not to be taken literally."

"One of the veils", 'Abdu'l-Baha is reported to have said, "is literal interpretation. To penetrate the inner significances a mighty effort is needed."

Makes it kind of tough, doesn't it?

You see, there is also the reminder in the Writings that we need to look at the obvious meanings of the words, too. Is this a dichotomy? Of course not. It is a simple reminder that there is more to the sacred Word than we think.

When dealing with prophecy, it is probably better to look at the metaphorical meanings, for when looking at
the example of one of the prophecies from Isaiah, 'Abdu'l-Baha said, "There will never be a day when this prophecy will come to pass literally, for these animals by their natures cannot mingle and associate in kindness and love." To me, this is an indication of how to "read" prophecy.

Finally, I try to always remember the overarching theme of the Baha'i Faith, or any Faith for that matter. Christianity, for example, is all about love. If we see anything within Christianity that does not lead us to love, we can be sure that we have misunderstood it. For the Baha'i Faith, it is all about unity.

Aside - There is an interesting thing about this unity, this oneness of mankind (well, many, but this is just one). Shoghi Effendi talks about the importance of "the principle of the oneness of Mankind -- which is the main pivot round which all the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh revolves". He also says that "the pivot of the oneness of mankind is nothing else but the power of the Covenant". Elsewhere he refers to 'Abdu'l-Baha as the "Pivot of Bahá'u'lláh's peerless and all-enfolding Covenant". Neat little order, that.

Anyways, these are just a few little thoughts about where I'm coming from. Now my hands are extremely cold, and I'm finding it tough to keep typing, so I won't.

It's All About Me

2011-12-19T08:01:00.001-08:00

As some of you have noticed, there is a new reader / writer here. One of the commenters: Me.

No, not me. Me.

(If I keep this up, it's going to sound like an Abbott and Costello routine.)

Aside: When I was in China, my host brought me to a very high and dignified Singapore Day celebration. (I mean, really high and dignified, like Embassy-type high and dignified.) The entertainment during this time was absolutely incredible to watch. I was amazingly impressed by the quality of it all. One of the things that stood out the most was what my host told me was called "double talk". This is a form of comedy that is only possible in tonal languages. He explained to me that what was happening was that the two people were speaking to each other, but responding as if the words were spoken in a different tone. You see, Mandarin has four tones. You can say "Ni hao", and that means hi. If you say it on a different tone, "Ni hao", then you confuse the person by implying that they might somehow be a red horse. In this comedy form, the two people have a conversation but continue it along by responding as if the person has used a different tone. Make sense? It's evidently quite hilarious, and extremely difficult to do. My host said that "Who's on First" was akin to the simplest form of this.

But that's not what I wanted to write about.

I wanted to mention a comment that was recently written, and copy it here. (I got permission form the writer, Me.) (No. Not me. Me.)

You see, he seemed to capture in words something that I've tried to say for a long time, but haven't quite gotten across. He was able to put it into the words that I had longed to use.

I had posted a link to an article from a Christian about the importance of showing love to everyone, especially those who believe differently from you. It was a very beautiful article, and I loved it so much, I had to share it. His comment was in response to this article.

He said:

Thanks for sharing this article. It certainly made me appreciate the complexities of life and that Love can overcome these challenges. At times, I too have been guilty of many things this author speaks about. Perhaps this is why I left religion. At the same time I have never felt so lost. Only after years of reflection have I seen a change in my perspective and a fundamental.

I think I have misunderstood what you have been saying about your own belief. You have been talking about Mead and what is best for him while embracing others regardless of their station in life. Also, it makes me realize that my anger toward religiousity is misguided. My conflict is not with the faiths, but with those who lack love.

Thank you. I believe I will try again and instead of adopting an obtuse view within my chosen religion, I'll pick it because it works for me while not concerning myself with anything but Love.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I was touched by this beautiful note.

My response, which my wife said I should post here, too was this:

Dear Me, (Hmmm. I sound like a grandmother.)

My son and I both have tears in our eyes. Thank you so much for what you have written above. You have said what I have tried to say for so long.

This blog is all about what works for me, and I make no claims on it working for anyone else. Not even other Baha'is. It is all about how I live my own faith. Not about how others should live theirs.

And you have summed up the problem so succinctly: it is all about love, not how others with the same team jacket live their lives.

One of the greatest things that 'Abdu'l-Baha ever said was that people should leave our presence with a sense of hope. I am in awe and in tears reading your last paragraph. Thank you, and thank you again. You have given me hope, and this is why I keep writing what I do.

Yeah. This blog is really all about my perspective of what works for me. The Baha'i Faith is my guide. But even then, the perspective is all about my own use of this Faith. I make no claims for anyone else, nor do I try to argue or contend with others, for when two people argue about religion, both are wrong.

A New Friend

2011-12-18T20:46:00.000-08:00

Sorry for not writing for a few days, but we've been busy. Actually, I've been trying to write this one particular article, but it just hasn't been coming together. Hopefully I'll pull it together by the end of this year.

And then we've had some guests from out of town.

In Vancouver, a friend of ours began something called the English Corner. She helps people from Asia learn English, and they often use spiritual and inspirational quotes to do this. Not all Baha'i, but all good.

Anyways, 5 of them came over yesterday and we spent a wonderful weekend with them. (Two of them are still here.)

One of them, Kate, I met last month in Vancouver, at a Baha'i conference, and she's now laughing as I write this. Kate, by the way, is from Taiwan. (Sunny is also here, but I only met here yesterday.) (Oh, and it seems that Shoghi, my 6 year old, now has two new girlfriends.)

Kate is a Baha'i, and her favorite quote is "Truthfulness is the foundation of all human virtues."

"Why", I ask her in real time.

"Because honest is very important to be a human being." I just love the way she says that.

Anyways, I just took most of the group to the ferry back to Vancouver, but these other two are joining us tomorrow on Salt Spring Island. Kate said that it was a dream of hers to go there before she returned to Taiwan, and so we're helping fulfill that dream. It's the least we can do. (And we love going there also.)

So anyways, I'm sitting here asking Kate about why she became Baha'i a few months ago. She's telling me this beautiful story about hearing about the Faith for the first time, and how she had this intuitive understanding that she was already a Baha'i. "It was very naturally. I learning English and making new friends. It was very easy making new friends and understand."

She said, "You don't need to take a long time" to become a Baha'i. She said that she just knew.

This reminds me of the Guardian, who said that we should not put barriers in front of people, but just let them embrace the Faith, become part of the community.

Now Kate is very interested in going back to Taiwan and telling her friends about the beauty of the Faith, how it uses new words to share the same beauty of God and Faith.

She knows that we need food and rest for our body to be healthy. She also knows that we need food and rest for our spirit to be healthy. Where can we get spiritual food? Where can we get spiritual rest? Those were her questions. She knew that even if she got a good night's sleep, if she didn't get that spiritual rest, she would never be rested.

This was what was weighing on her.

She knew that it was so important to find that place where she could get those, and she found it within the Baha'i Faith.

There is another thing that she has shared (or is sharing) with me. She said that she used to go to this one Baha'i's home in the city, and would then walk home late at night alone. This Baha'i would ask her, "Aren't you scared? Walking alone late at night like that?" "No," was her reply, "God is looking after me."

Ok. This is pretty much all over the place, but let me tell you what really stands out here: her enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm comes from the root "en theos", or "to fill with God". Her enthusiasm is so wonderful right now, and it comes out in a gushing rush. There is so much that she wants to share, and the language is very difficult for her, as English is not her strong suit. But she is so aware of the gifts of God, both those that are endowed, and those that are bestowed. These gifts of friends, gifts, circumstances are so precious to her, and it is so important to her that everyone else recognizes their own gifts, and not waste them.

There is a joy in her zeal which comes out so... joyously, but so confusingly at times. It is like a refreshing cool breeze on a hot summer day. She is so filled with excitement, and the wonder of the new. And this comes across so beautifully.

Although some may find it difficult to follow her now, I truly believe that as she begins to harness her new-found powers, she will be a force for much good in the world. This is probably the greatest test for the new believer: to learn to harness the great powers that they have uncovered within themselves, and within the world. It is also probably the greatest test that we veteran believers have to face: to allow them the time to make sense of what they are experiencing.

In one of the Anglican hymns, it asks God to shield the enthusiastic ones. I think it is because this enthusiasm is so precious, and yet so fragile. We need to do whatever we can to help the friends maintain this new zeal and joy.

Thank you, Kate, for reminding me of this, and giving me the opportunity to write about this here.

"Thank you, too", she says with a quiet and thoughtful air about her.

"Hey, my pleasure."

(She also seemed to like that I actually wrote this while we talked. Kind of cool, that.)

That Man - God Relationship

2011-12-12T11:00:00.000-08:00

So there I was, in a Catholic church this past Sunday, waiting for the mass to begin, reading Prayers and Meditations. No, seriously. I was. Marielle had been asked if she would conduct the children's class, so I decided to join, too. As we got there quite early (it's always good to show up early when you're asked to do something like that), there was nobody around to really talk with, as they were all busy setting stuff up for the mass. And so there I was, sitting in a pew, reading a passage of Prayers and Meditations while waiting.

And what did I read?

I'm so glad you asked, dear Reader. I began to read passage 38, which begins:

Lauded be Thy name, O Lord my God! I testify that Thou wast a hidden Treasure wrapped within Thine immemorial Being and an impenetrable Mystery enshrined in Thine own Essence. Wishing to reveal Thyself, Thou didst call into being the Greater and the Lesser Worlds, and didst choose Man above all Thy creatures, and didst make Him a sign of both of these worlds, O Thou Who art our Lord, the Most Compassionate!

Naturally, I paused right there, and wondered what was meant by the "Greater and Lesser Worlds". And again, naturally, I "oceaned" it. Oh, not there and then, but just now. I had thought, at the time, that it might refer to the spiritual and material realms, but as usual, I was not quite on target. I wasn't wrong, per se, but just understood it on probably the shallowest level possible. Fortunately the Writings are there to give us a deeper understanding.

'Abdu'l-Baha, in Promulgation of Universal Peace, offers the following:

The mysteries of the greater world, or macrocosm, are expressed or revealed in the lesser world, the microcosm. The tree, so to speak, is the greater world, and the seed in its relation to the tree is the lesser world. But the whole of the great tree is potentially latent and hidden in the little seed. When this seed is planted and cultivated, the tree is revealed. Likewise, the greater world, the macrocosm, is latent and miniatured in the lesser world, or microcosm, of man. This constitutes the universality or perfection of virtues potential in mankind. Therefore, it is said that man has been created in the image and likeness of God.

Wow. If I ever wanted scriptural justification for the the macro / micro idea, there it is. And just in case that wasn't enough, He goes on and explains what is meant by man being created in God's image. How cool is that? While I'm sure I must have read this before, it never really sank in until now. I think this is one of those passages that I'll try to commit to memory. (Test me in a few weeks and see how I do.)

Then I read the next paragraph, and I was fairly lost.

Thou didst raise Him up to occupy Thy throne before all the people of Thy creation. Thou didst enable Him to unravel Thy mysteries, and to shine with the lights of Thine inspiration and Thy Revelation, and to manifest Thy names and Thine attributes. Through Him Thou didst adorn the preamble of the book of Thy creation, O Thou Who art the Ruler of the universe Thou hast fashioned!

For some reason, and I know you knew better, I had thought that this was referring to ordinary people. You. Me. Mankind, as in humanity. But this made no sense to me. I couldn't make heads nor tails of it.

Then I noticed the capitalization.

It seems as if Baha'u'llah is talking about the Messengers of God, those divine Manifestations. Hence the big letters at the beginning of the pronouns, and this is borne out later in the passage. But as I hadn't read ahead, I got confused and was wondering what this was, and how it could be.

It is the Messenger that is seated visibly before all humanity. I mean, you have to be a bit of a dork not to realize that Jesus and Moses and Buddha and Company made some pretty significant contributions to the development of the human race.

But what does it mean that God adorned the "preamble of the book of Thy creation" with Him?

Given the word "creation", my mind immediately went to Genesis 1:1, as well as John 1:1.

"In the beginning of God's creating the heavens and the earth - when the earth was astonishingly empty, with darkness upon the surface of the deep, and the Divine Presence hovered upon the surface of the waters - God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light."

And, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

Again, it's fairly easy to get lost in this, what with poetical meanings and metaphors and all. My question, as usual, is what does 'Abdu'l-Baha say about all this? "By the 'word' we mean that creation with its infinite forms is like unto letters and the individual members of humanity are likewise like unto letters. A letter individually has no meaning, no independent significance, but the station of Christ is the station of the word. That is why we say Christ is the 'word' - a complete significance."

To me, this means that the light at the beginning of creation was the light of God. It is obvious from the Genesis reference that there was more to this creation story than the beginning of everything, for the earth was already there, as was the deep. There were even waters, for the Divine Presence hovered upon them. Already there is a mystery.

But the light of God is created with that phrase. The light that illumines everything, gives it significance. That is what is created. And that is what is revealed through the Messengers of God. It is through the light that They shed upon humanity that everything is given significance. While Christ Himself may not have been physically present there at the beginning of creation, His Light certainly was, as was the Light of Moses, Buddha, Muhammad, the Bab, Baha'u'llah and all the other Messengers. This Light, which shines so brightly within Them, was present from the very beginning. It was the very beginning.

And so They shine with the light of God's inspiration, and adorn the very beginning of the book of Creation.

Now that this is a bit clearer to me, I can move on to the next paragraph, and then continue on with my day:

I bear witness that in His person solidity and fluidity have been joined and combined. Through His immovable constancy in Thy Cause, and His unwavering adherence to whatsoever Thou, in the plentitude of the light of Thy glory, didst unveil to His eyes, throughout the domains of Thy Revelation and creation, the souls of Thy servants were stirred up in their longing for Thy Kingdom, and the dwellers of Thy realms rushed forth to enter into Thy heavenly dominion. Through the restlessness He evinced in Thy path, the feet of all them that are devoted to Thee were steeled and confirmed to manifest Thy Cause amidst Thy creatures, and to demonstrate Thy sovereignty throughout Thy realm.

Solidity and fluidity? To me, and remember that this is only my own personal interpretation, nothing official, this speaks of Their teachings and Their lives. Look at Baha'u'llah, for example. He was rock solid in His exposition of God's teachings for today. Nothing could deter Him from revealing His Word. "Thou didst", He says, regarding this point, "raise Him up to such heights that the wrongs inflicted by the oppressors have been powerless to deter Him from revealing Thy sovereignty, and the ascendancy of the wayward hath failed to prevent Him from demonstrating Thy power and from exalting Thy Cause." Here, in this, amongst many other, regard, He was more solid than the rock.

As for His fluidity, He moved as bidden by His Lord. When the Kings of His age wanted to banish Him, He moved. When they wanted to imprison Him, He went. If they wanted to beat Him, or torture Him, He let them. While there are many passages I could cite to this effect, the most powerful example of them all, to me, is that of the old woman who wanted to fling a stone in His face. As you know, when Baha'u'llah was being led to Tehran, on His way to the prison, just after the attempt by some crazed Babis on the life of the Shah. "Among the crowd, which hurled abuse at Bahá'u'lláh and pelted Him with stones, was an old woman. She stepped forward with a stone in her hand to strike at Him. Although frenzied with rage, her steps were too weak for the pace of the procession. 'Give me a chance to fling my stone in His face', she pleaded with the guard. Bahá'u'lláh turned to them and said, 'Suffer not this woman to be disappointed. Deny her not what she regards as a meritorious act in the sight of God.' Such was the measure of His compassion."

To me, this is an incredible example of His fluidity.

Another example would be the way in which the various Messengers have adapted the Laws to meet the requirements of their day. The Law may be moderation and justice, for example, and to a angry person you would tell them to calm down. To an abused person, you might tell them to be more assertive. "The difference", He says, "between the ordinances under which they abide should be attributed to the varying requirements and exigencies of the age in which they were revealed. All of them, except a few which are the outcome of human perversity, were ordained of God, and are a reflection of His Will and Purpose."

When I read all this, and think about what is being said, I marvel at the relationship between Man and God. It seems as if we, the little-m man, are being led along this path towards big-M-ness. We will never get there, of course, for as the Bab says, "The substance wherewith God hath created Me is not the clay out of which others have been formed." But it as if They are leading us towards Their station, moving us closer and closer towards that which is divine within us.

I could go on and talk about this one paragraph for much longer, but I think I'll leave it here. Instead, I'll finish this off with the next few paragraphs of the passage from Prayers and Meditations. They leave me filled with wonder and awe, and I'd be curious to hear what you think of them.

"How great, O my God, is this Thy most excellent handiwork, and how consummate Thy creation, which hath caused every understanding heart and mind to marvel! And when the set time was fulfilled, and what had been preordained came to pass, Thou didst unloose His tongue to praise Thee, and to lay bare Thy mysteries before all Thy creation, O Thou Who art the Possessor of all names, and the Fashioner of earth and heaven! Through Him all created things were made to glorify Thee, and to celebrate Thy praise, and every soul was directed towards the kingdom of Thy revelation and Thy sovereignty.

"At one time, Thou didst raise Him up, O my God, and didst attire Him with the ornament of the name of Him Who conversed with Thee (Moses), and didst through Him uncover all that Thy will had decreed and Thine irrevocable purpose ordained. At another time, Thou didst adorn Him with the name of Him Who was Thy Spirit (Jesus), and didst send Him down out of the heaven of Thy will, for the edification of Thy people, infusing thereby the spirit of life into the hearts of the sincere among Thy servants and the faithful among Thy creatures. Again, Thou didst reveal Him, decked forth by the name of Him Who was Thy Friend (Muhammad), and caused Him to shine brightly above the horizon of Hijaz, as a token of Thy power and an evidence of Thy might. Through Him Thou didst send unto Thy servants what enabled them to scale the heights of Thy unity, and to yearn over the wonders of Thy manifold knowledge and wisdom."

Another Question

2011-12-09T10:12:00.001-08:00

I made a big mistake yesterday, and I'm sorry for it. When I was writing, I was a bit disturbed by some comments that were made to me over the past weekend at a craft fair. As you may know, I make chain-mail artwork for a living. It's an odd, but fun, profession, and I really enjoy it. (There's a sample below.)

So there I was, with a star on the table, and someone asked me about it. They asked me if it was a religious symbol. I explained that it was, for me, a symbol of the Baha'i Faith. Well, this led to quite the tirade and I really had to ask this person to leave, or I was going to call for security. Although I had thought that I put that behind me, it seems that I was still reacting a bit when I wrote yesterday's article.

And one commenter, "Me", thought that I was reacting to them. Although I apologized in the comments below them, I wanted to be a bit more public about it.

I also wanted to draw attention to an observation they made in another comment. It was quite a good one. They reiterated my statement that I am a Baha'i because I consider Baha'u'llah's view of the world better than my own.

Well, let me go into that a bit more, for my answer may seem a bit glib, or maybe even shallow. And that just won't do (he says, in his best Victorian accent). So let me go back a bit, and maybe even offer an analogy.

To start, I do not believe that my view of the world is perfect. Not at all. I see many things that I have learned over the years, and there are many more things that I would love to learn. If my view were perfect, then I could never learn anything new.

Some say that the wisest philosopher of all time was Socrates, because he knew what he was ignorant of. (I was about to say that he knew what he didn't know, but that just sounds like a zen thing.) And so I went into my study of religion without the presupposition that I knew it all. That's not to say that I went in blindly accepting everything. Of course not. I went into it with the various faculties and talents that I have been endowed with, such as reason, intelligence, compassion, sincerity, humility and so on. I also went in with my own personal life experience.

One of the first things I recognized was that most people don't actually read their own sacred texts. The second thing was that most people's actions actually contradicted what their sacred books said.

And that led me to use one of the greatest tools I've even been given: the ability to read things for myself. Instead of taking other people's "word for it", I actually went back to the teachings themselves. Now I can't read Greek, Aramaic, Sanskrit, Persian, Arabic or any other language except for English, so I've had to make do with translations. But if you get enough translations, and read some of the commentaries on the them, you often get a good idea of what was trying to be conveyed. That's what I went with.

I also made the decision, which was quite conscious, to accept that there were wisdoms that were not readily evident in the literal reading of the various sacred texts. I figured that they must be considered sacred for a reason. Especially if they've been considered so for so long. Therefore, when I read the order of creation in Genesis, and recognized that Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 give a different order of creation, I had a choice. I could either dismiss the whole thing as silly, or I could presume that there is a wisdom in telling the story in a different way.

Rather than throwing out the walnut with the shell, to use a phrase, I decided to look further into it.

Yes, there was a contradiction, but so what. It doesn't impact how we live our life, does it? Well, it may, but I don't believe it should. At least, it doesn't impact how I live mine.

Oh wait. Yes it does.

How?

I'm so glad you asked, dear Reader.

I see this as a clue that there are things about the sacred that are not able to be understood by the rational mind. It's not that they are irrational, but rather non-rational. Or perhaps super-rational. They make a sense that is more than the mere literal sense we have come to value too highly in the West. (Oh, it's not that the literal and linear perspective is bad, but it is not the only perspective. Other ways of seeing things are good, too.)

In other words, how you perceive the order of creation depends on your point of view. There is more than one way to understand it. From a purely biological perspective, we can see that animals came about before humanity. And yet from a philosophical perspective, we could argue that they weren't really animals until humanity had reached a point where we could define them as such.

In some of His talks, 'Abdu'l-Baha refers to humanity as having always existed. As the earth is only a few billion years old, how could humanity have existed before the planet? Is He wrong? Or is He speaking in a different sense? A more poetical sense? Or perhaps in a more universal sense? And is this denying the concept of evolution?

In one of His talks He admits the reality that evolutionary change has occurred. But then He goes on to say, "Man from the beginning was in this perfect form and composition, and possessed capacity and aptitude for acquiring material and spiritual perfections, and was the manifestation of these words, 'We will make man in Our image and likeness.' He has only become more pleasing, more beautiful, and more graceful." So here He seems to be talking about the latent qualities that make Man distinctive, not the form.

In other words, it all goes back to how we define our terms.

But let me point out something else, too. This sense of humility, recognizing that we don't know everything, is something that we all do. We go to see a doctor because they know more about medicine and the body than we do. But I, for one, won't just accept any doctor's word for it. They may be a total bozo, for all I know. Or maybe they are in the pocket of the drug corporations and will prescribe something for any reason at all. I just don't know. And so, before I commit myself to the care of a physician, I do a bit of research. I check out their references, usually on-line. I go in and talk to them. While they may think that they are interviewing me to see if I can be their patient, I am also interviewing them to see if they can be my doctor. Once I am satisfied that they are competent, than I will prefer their opinion about my health to my own. Of course, this also requires that I am honest with them and give them regular feedback, for doctor's can make mistakes, too. If a physician prescribes some medicine, I will take it in all faith. But if, by some odd chance, I have an adverse reaction to it, then I will inform them immediately and they will prescribe something else.

The same goes for teachers. If I want to enroll in a course, I want to be sure that the teacher actually knows their subject. I'll look into their credentials and if I am satisfied, then I will take the course, investing both my time and my money. One of the reasons we have universities is so that we don't need to do all that footwork. Once I trust the university's criteria, then I will trust all the professors there.

It was with this open-minded, humble approach that I began my investigation into religions. It took me over 5 years to become convinced that Baha'u'llah's perspective was far superior to my own. There were many things during that time that I disagreed with, but I kept looking. His explanations of other religions convinced me that the differences we see today are either due to the climate in which they were revealed, or misunderstandings after the fact.

Let me give some examples that were used in the comments the other day (just because they were so good). Look at the Trinity. While this may be a fundamental part of some sects of Christianity, it is not part of the original doctrine. It wasn't until the end of the fourth century, after much debate, arguing and even killing, that this concept was formulated in the way we know it today. And so I would argue that it is a sectarian understanding, and not part of the original teachings. You only need to read the New Testament to recognize that the word "trinity" isn't even in there, although it is easy to see some of the basic concepts that led to it. It is easy to pick out the seeds that grew into that tree.

Baptism is another example. While most Christian sects agree that baptism is a good thing, there was much debate over how to do it. Do you sprinkle the water on? Do you immerse the person? And who really cares? Do the one that feels right to you, is my opinion. Does that mean that one is right and the other way is wrong? I don't think so. I believe that it is the intention by which one does the act that is significant.

It was also mentioned that Jews don't accept that a Messiah has appeared, and therefore the Baha'i Faith denies this basic doctrinal part of Judaism. Well, no. We agree that Jews don't recognize a Messiah, and that is why they are still Jewish. This is part of free-will. We will not force them to accept Jesus, or Muhammad, or even Baha'u'llah. This is their path, and we encourage it. When talking about the importance of the interfaith movement, the Universal House of Justice said, "Far from challenging the validity of any of the great revealed faiths, the principle has the capacity to ensure their continuing relevance." From my understanding, it seems that our role, as Baha'is, is to ensure the relevance of all people's Faiths, and not to try and force them to wear our team jacket. And so many Jews are awaiting the promised Messiah. We encourage them to keep looking, especially in light of their own teachings. But we encourage them to investigate for themselves, and not merely take their leader's word for it, nor even the general feeling of their community. Investigate for yourself, is a primal part of the Baha'i Faith.

Also, in regards to the "finality" is Muhammad within Islam, again this is not part of the doctrine. The Qur'an refers to Muhammad as the Seal of the Prophets. What we understand by that is personal interpretation. Many Muslims see it as a statement of finality, whereas I see it as a statement of position. Sort of like the seal on a bottle of wine. At some point you remove the seal and pour the wine out to drink it. (Unless you're Muslim, Baha'i or a member AA.)

Anyways, this was quite lengthy, but I hope it better explains what I mean when I say that Baha'u'llah has a better perspective than I do. I am not merely giving over all responsibility in my life to Him, for that would be a denial of free-will and... well, responsibility. Instead, it is a recognition that if He says something I don't understand, then I will presume He is correct and seek to try and understand what He means, especially in relation to the rest of His teachings.

A Post So Good...

2011-12-09T09:40:00.001-08:00

... I just had to share it.

There has been so much controversy over this issue, and this gentleman says it so well. I think what he says equally applies here within the Baha'i community.

http://www.danoah.com/2011/11/im-christian-unless-youre-gay.html

What it all comes down to is: Are we showing the kind of love to all people that 'Abdu'l-Baha showed to everyone?

Question Time

2011-12-08T09:23:00.001-08:00

It's another beautiful day here in Victoria. The sky is uniformly overcast. The temperature is sitting just above 0. The wind is blowing at a gentle 20 k. And people are smiling on the street. Yeah. It's a beautiful day.

As there are no real pressing issues that come to mind, I think I'll take some questions from the audience today. I'm just in that kind of a mood.

Yes? You in the red sweater?

"You speak a lot about the importance of both praying and meditating. Can you say a bit more about why meditating is important? I'm not a big fan of it. I find that I just get bored trying to clear my mind."

Absolutely. Excellent question.

There are actually two different things within that question that I want to address. The first is what is meditation. You talk about trying to clear your mind, but that is only one school of meditation. There are many, and we often confuse the transcendental style, to name one, for all meditation. Nothing could be further from the truth. If we look at the concept of conversation with God, as described by 'Abdu'l-Baha, then we readily see that conversation must be two ways. This can be seen as prayer, the talking to God, and meditation, the listening. To be an effective listener, we have to be quiet, for one cannot talk and listen at the same time. So it may not be about trying to clear your mind as much as it is about trying to learn to listen more attentively.

The second question in there is why is that important. To best explain that, I'm going to use the five steps of prayer that are attributed to Shoghi Effendi in a pilgrim's note. He says the first step is to "pray and meditate about it. Use the prayers of the Manifestations as they have the greatest power. Then remain in the silence of
contemplation for a few minutes." You will note that he does not list these as two separate steps, but as two parts of the same step. He goes on later in that same piece to say, "Many pray but do not remain for the last half of the first step."

If we spend time in prayer asking about something, or praying for something, then doesn't it just make sense to stick around for the answer?

Ok, next? You, in the back. Yes, you with the hat. Can you speak up?

"How would you defend the Baha'i Faith's stance towards homosexuality? You say that you are inclusive, and yet you are against homosexuals. How can you reconcile that?"

I'm so glad you asked that. First, though, I'm not in a position to defend anything. In order to defend, you have to perceive that you are under attack. Asking a cogent question is in no way an attack. At least, I don't see it that way. Besides, I think the defense of the Faith is best left up to the Institutions.

If you want to see the Baha'i "stance" on homosexuality, then there are a few different things you need to look at. I won't try to convince you that you have to agree, but I will say that the laws of the Baha'i Faith are only for Baha'is. We do not, and are not allowed to, impose them on those who do not accept Baha'u'llah as a Messenger of God.

That being said, people confuse the fact that homosexuality is not recognized as a legitimate action within the Baha'i community with the idea that we persecute homosexuals. Aside from a few Baha'is who have misunderstood what the Writings say, and are themselves, to say the least, homophobic, most of us have no problem with homosexuality. I mean, really. It's between two consenting adults who have come to their own decisions in their lives, right?

As Baha'is, we are actually encouraged to defend human rights whenever and wherever necessary. As I've said many times in the past, if someone is not a member of the Baha'i community, then I will defend their right to engage in a homosexual relationship, with full equality under the law. It is unjust that partners of many decades do not have the right to visit their invalid partner in hospital when they are dying. It is unjust that people who have remained faithful to each other for years are not allowed to do with their possessions as they please in their wills. I could go on with many other specifics, but it is enough to say that there are many basic rights that I believe we should all have access to, regardless of our sexual orientation, and I will defend these rights to the best of my ability, which isn't all that great, as this blog shows. But nevertheless, I will try.

And then there is the other side of that same coin. What if they are a Baha'i? Well then they have agreed to a covenant with Baha'u'llah. They have agreed to follow His laws and obey His institutions. At this point, it would be rather silly for them to say that they believe He is a Messenger of God, but that they know better in one area or another. They would be saying that they know better than God, which is, of course, absurd.

But please remember, if they don't believe that He is from God, than there isn't any issue. They are not bound by His laws. These laws are not a social contract by which all must live. They are agreed upon with conscious recognition on the part of the believer.

If someone has a set list of criteria by which they judge different Faiths, and the Baha'i Faith does not satisfy that list, then I would just tell them not to enroll as a member of the community. There's no problem. This is what free-will is all about.

If someone has this set list, and they go on to attack anyone who has a different list, or attack a Faith that doesn't agree with them, then I would contend that they have an issue. They are attempting to deny someone else their free-will.

Just the other day I had someone verbally attack me because I believed in God. They somehow thought that my belief in God was an affront to them, and went on to attack me for it. I really had no idea why, especially as I did not initiate the conversation. They went on to do me exactly what they were accusing other people of faith of doing to others. It was kind of sad and ironic at the same time.

So, once again (and I have to admit that I'm getting rather tired of repeating this), I will defend the social and human rights of homosexuals just as I will anyone else. Just because they are gay does not make them any less human.

Well, I thought I'd have time for one more question, but this post seems to be getting rather long. Maybe I'll do this again sometime soon, for there are a few other hands raised politely out there.

Home

2011-12-05T09:09:00.001-08:00

One evening, a number of years ago, some time after I had moved to Winnipeg, I awoke in the middle of the night and thought, "Yeah, I'm home." That was the moment when I realized that Winnipeg was now home. Today, a year and a half after moving to Victoria, I'm still awaiting that moment.

Oh, but please don't get me wrong. I love the city here, and the people and the landscape, as well as the seascape, but it just doesn't feel like home yet. When I close my eyes and think of that magical place within my heart that resonates with the word "home", it is still Winnipeg that comes to mind.

Last night Marielle and I had a short but wonderful conversation with our son, Shoghi, who is, you may recall, only 6. Marielle, being in the military, is regularly asked about her career aspirations, and today is one of those days.

Aside - I have to admit that I find it kind of amusing and lamentable. This is the one of the busiest few weeks of the year for the band, what with their "we-can't-include-any-religion-in-our-work-but-songs-about-Jesus-and-Christmas-don't-count-and-yet-we-can't-acknowledge-any-other-faith-or-tradition-for-that-would-be-promoting-a-religion Christmas concerts", and yet they are having these interviews at this time. It really is an amazing demonstration of inefficiency and sadly taxing upon these poor people.

(And no, that wasn't a rant. Just an observation.)

So last night we talked to Shoghi about this.

We explained that there were basically three options that we had. The first was to stay in Victoria, and he already knew all about that, both the good things and the bad. The other options were to request a posting in either Ottawa or Quebec City. The advantages in those places would be that we would be much closer to Grandmaman, and some of the cousins. We would, in fact, be able to visit them at least once a month.

The little guy gave his input, and Marielle took both his and my opinions into consideration and will answer her interview questions accordingly.

But all this got me thinking about "home".

What is "home"?

Aside number two - In case you couldn't tell, I just took a one hour break. (Sorry for not warning you. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.) During that time I had a wonderful conversation with the young man helping out in the office today. It turns out that he's from Winnipeg, too, and moved here shortly after I did. We got to talking about home, and what is home. Talk about coincidence. Oh, and we also had a delightful conversation about spirituality and the importance of seeking your own path with conscious intent. And we talked about crisis and victory, and the political scene. A wonderful conversation all round.

Ok. So, what is home? I'm not sure. And that, dear Reader, as I'm sure you know, will lead me to the Writings. What do they have to say about a home? (You've got to love Ocean. It makes this sort of thing so much easier.)

That search being done, it seems that the Writings speak of a couple of different things, and I thought I'd just look at them a bit at a time.

The first couple of quotes that caught my attention were "Be a home for the stranger"... and "I have set out from my home, holding fast unto the cord of Thy love, and I have committed myself wholly to Thy care and Thy protection... Enable me, then, to return to my home by Thy power and Thy might." In both of these instances, home seems to refer to a place where you are comfortable. When you leave that place, you embark on a journey amidst the uncomfortable, and ask God to allow you to return to that place of comfort.

To further build on that idea, Baha'u'llah says "The day is approaching when all the peoples of the world will have adopted one universal language and one common script. When this is achieved, to whatsoever city a man may journey, it shall be as if he were entering his own home." And so home is also a place where you expect to be understood.

There is also a special place in the Writings accorded to the home. "To none", says Baha'u'llah in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, "is it permitted to mutter sacred verses before the public gaze as he walketh in the street or marketplace; nay rather, if he wish to magnify the Lord, it behoveth him to do so in such places as have been erected for this purpose, or in his own home. This is more in keeping with sincerity and godliness." It is a place best suited for our prayers. There is so much that I can read into this. For example, we should always pray from a place of comfort. If not, if we are praying from a place of discomfort, perhaps for something that we want, than we may not be praying with the pure sincerity that is most conducive for the efficacy of the prayers. Oh, and there is the obvious understanding that our prayers should not be used as a tool to show others how "spiritual" we are. But I'm focusing more on the home aspect of this quote.

Home is also a place that should be free of judgement, especially the judgement of others, as in the prayer that asks God to make "my home the seat which Thou hast exalted above the limitations of them that are shut out as by a veil from Thee."

Another place that home appears in the Writings is in the Hidden Words: "Thy Paradise is My love; thy heavenly home, reunion with Me." Once again, this would be a place of supreme consolation and love. When we are feeling at one with God, at home in the world around us, then there is little that can faze us. We feel comfortable, protected, safe and secure. To do this, to achieve this, though, requires allowing that love of God to be within our very heart. "My love has made in thee its home, it cannot be concealed." "Thy heart is My home; sanctify it for My descent."

Now, my question is how to help raise a child with this understanding. How can we assist others in our society to be aware of this? What can we do to spread this understanding of "home" and aid others to feel this, no matter where they are?

One thing that comes to mind is how Baha'u'llah described marriage "as a fortress for well-being and salvation". While it is a fortress that protects in times of trouble, it can also stand wide open to allow any to enter in times of peace.

And so while I feel completely at home with Marielle and Shoghi, no matter where we live, and I also feel at home within the Baha'i community, as well comfortable in any place we happen to live, these are still questions and thoughts well worth pondering. I look forward to asking Shoghi about it when I get home later today.

I also wonder how much longer it will be before my heart realizes that the west coast is now home, and makes the trek here from the prairies, even though a piece of me will always be there, too.

The Long Obligatory Prayer, part 2

2011-12-02T09:44:00.001-08:00

Well, that just sucks. I spilled tea all over my prayer book again. Why is it that you always get something wet all over your favorite book? I guess it's because you always have that book with you, so you're more likely to damage it, no matter how careful you are.

Ah well.

Would that all of life little tests were so... little.

I was looking in my drafts folder this morning, trying to see what to write about, and I noticed that there are many articles that I've begun, and many that I've said I would continue. Well, maybe I will. I mean, I'll try, but I usually write more about whatever happens to be in my field of vision at the moment, whatever it is that shows up on the radar.

Lately, as you can tell, it's been the long Obligatory Prayer.

The problem, though, as you can tell by the name, is that it's long. How do I break it up into small bite-size chunks? After all, I don't want either of us to get spiritual indigestion. That would be a whole whack of no fun.

This is what I was musing on this morning when my tea took a header into the prayer book.

Then, all of a sudden, the answer came to me in a splash! All right. I'm just joking, but the answer did seem fairly evident to me. Why not use the divisions that Baha'u'llah used? He seems to have conveniently divided the prayer for us into smaller pieces, as evidenced by the instructions for the different actions.

That's what I'll do. Instead of looking at it all at once, which would definitely tax my writing abilities, as well as your attention, I'm sure, dear Reader, I will look at one section at a time, or at least as many as seem reasonable (in other words, until I get tired or have to move on in my day).

So, after we wash, look right and left, all the while standing, we are told to say the following:

"O Thou Who art the Lord of all names and the Maker of the heavens! I beseech Thee by them Who are the Daysprings of Thine invisible Essence, the Most Exalted, the All-Glorious, to make of my prayer a fire that will burn away the veils which have shut me out from Thy beauty, and a light that will lead me unto the ocean of Thy Presence."

Why? As usual, I have to wonder why Baha'u'llah begins with those particular attributes of God. I mean, I don't think it's random. I believe that those are the exact attributes He intended to call to our attention, and I'm curious why.

Oh, and lest I forget, this is only my own personal understanding, and nothing official. Take it or leave it, as you will. And please feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments section. I love reading them.

To start, I think the phrase "the Lord of all names" is a reminder that all our good qualities are lower case versions of God's attributes. If God is the All-knowing, then we have some knowledge. If He is the Wise, then we can show some wisdom. There are some who may think that this is a denial of our role in developing these attributes, and I would say not at all. It is our free will that allows us to develop these attributes. Without the choice, our growth in these areas becomes fairly meaningless. A "yes" without the option to say "no" is devoid of value. Telling the truth is no great virtue when lying is not possible.

It is also a reminder to me that all those negative qualities that we see in the world are really nothing more than the absence of those divine qualities. The shadow is nothing more than the absence of the light. God is the All-knowing, and when we do not partake of that knowledge, then ignorance is the result. Ignorance is the absence of knowledge. When we fail to show forth the mercy of God, then cruelty is the result.

I believe that my role as a human being, my job in the world, is to try and emulate these attributes of God more and more in my every day life.

God is not only the epitome of all these attributes, He is also the One Who made everything we see around us. He is, indeed, "the Maker of the heavens". And we have it within us to make this world, the physical world in which we now live, a bit better, too.

The next sentence begins with a very interesting phrase: "I beseech Thee". We are not just asking, we are almost begging. It is a very urgent appeal. It is urgent because our very spiritual growth depends upon our attitude in seeking these qualities.

And then we acknowledge that we are beseeching God "by them Who are the Daysprings of Thine invisible essence, the Most Exalted, the All-Glorious". Here we are not beseeching God directly, for we cannot know God directly. We can know a little bit about Him, and try to know more and more, but it is through these Messengers that we know the most about Him. As Baha'u'llah says so well, "...Thou hast ever been immeasurably exalted above the vain imaginations which the hearts of men have devised". "Whoso claimeth to have known Thee hath," He says later in that same passage, "by virtue of such a claim, testified to his own ignorance; and whoso believeth himself to have attained unto Thee, all the atoms of the earth would attest his powerlessness and proclaim his failure."

This is not to say, though, that we cannot pray to God directly. Of course we can. It is just that we are beseeching God through His Messenger. "While praying", says the Guardian a few times in some of his letters, "it would be better to turn one's thoughts to the Manifestation as He continues, in the other world, to be our means of contact with the Almighty. We can, however, pray directly to God Himself."

Here, though, in this passage, there are two more attributes that are mentioned: the Most Exalted and the All-Glorious. These are double reminders to me. We, as noble creations of a Noble Creator, are exalted amidst creation. There is a lot in the Writings that speaks to this, and to that glory that we can attain when we live up to our potential as spiritual beings.

But our exaltation and glory pales in comparison to that of the Messengers, so much more in the light of God. So here, in the opening passage of this prayer, I am reminded of the three levels of creation, in this sense. We are wonderful and amazing creatures, but still only on the bottom rung of this step ladder. (Hey, come on. It only has three steps in this analogy. What do you want me to call it?) Far above us stand the Messengers of God, those divine Manifestations of the Creator. And then, even farther above them is God. (So that analogy breaks down fairly quickly, but I'm sure you get the idea.)

Now, what is it, exactly, that we are asking for? "(T)o make of my prayer a fire that will burn away the veils which have shut me out from Thy beauty, and a light that will lead me unto the ocean of Thy Presence."

Ok. This is getting tough for me. I have these images in my mind, but may have some trouble getting them down, so please bear with me.

In our home, my wife has hung a number of her scarves on a curtain rod. They are not only very beautiful, but they also have the added advantage of blocking some of the light. When I think of veils, this is what I picture. They can be very beautiful, and they can also block the light.

In this instance, the veils referred to here block out the beauty of God, which I don't think is a particularly good thing to do. There are many things that can do this, and many of them are quite alluring: material objects, fame, drugs, just to name a few.

Here we are asking that this prayer be like a flame which will burn all these things away, leaving us fully exposed to, and seeing the beauty of God. Of course, when we see this beauty, we realize that all the other beautiful things in the world are but pale shadows of this beauty. For example, why is it that I love my wife? Because she reflects so many of these attributes of God, like love, wisdom, and compassion. The more she shows these attributes, the more I love her. Prayer helps me not only see the beauty of God, but also helps me to better see the beauty of God in those around me, as well as in everyday situations.

We are also beseeching that this prayer be like a light that will lead us to "the ocean of Thy presence".

Here I am reminded of growing up in Chicago. The sun rose in the east, and it was not uncommon for me to go to the beach to watch the sunrise. (And yes, I know it's a lake and not the ocean, but work with me here.) There were times when I would be heading down and actually see the light glowing on the horizon before I got there. It was as if the dawn's light was leading me down to the water.

Here, within the Faith, the prayer can be like that light. It can help lead us closer to God, or even attract others. It's beautiful, and full of promise.

Baha'u'llah also refers to the Faith, and the teachings, and the Writings, as an ocean over and over. Just type the word "ocean" into any Baha'i search engine, of which the most popular is still Ocean (go figure), and you'll see what I mean. My favorite instance is right at the beginning of the Kitab-i-Iqan, in which we read, "No man shall attain the shores of the ocean of true understanding except he be detached from all that is in heaven and on earth."

The ocean is both broad and deep. It is the source of all life on earth. It is rich beyond measure, and we have only explored a fraction of a percentage of it. It is no wonder that Baha'u'llah compares the teachings to an ocean.

Fortunately, He doesn't compare it to a teacup, which spilleth upon the pages of divine wisdom.

The Long Obligatory Prayer, part 1

2011-12-01T09:45:00.001-08:00

Over the past few weeks a number of people have written in, or dropped by my office, or even phoned, to talk about the important of prayer and a prayerful attitude.

Obviously this is a concern, so I guess I might as well write my little bit about it.

In the past I've written a little bit about what the Writings say in regards to prayer, and how they help us grow, but today I wanted to take a slightly different approach.

First, I find that I just feel so much better when I take the time to pray. I'm not sure I've ever mentioned that. Taking just a few minutes every day to sit down, read a prayer or two, meditate upon them, and see how that impacts what I will do during the day, suffices. Of course, when I can take a longer amount of time, the benefits are just that much greater.

And what are some of those benefits? Well, I'm sure they vary from person to person, but this is what it does for me. I feel a lot more relaxed. I'm able to think more clearly. My general state of health seems to be better. I notice that more things just go well for me. Like what? Like finding my keys, or that parking spot where I need it, or noticing something in the store that just happens to be what I was looking for, even though I forgot. That sort of stuff. It's as if the universe just aligns itself with me. In fact, what I think it really is is that I align myself with the world.

Now, I'm going to share a bit of a story, and then embark on yet another epic journey, to which you are more than welcome to join.

Yesterday, I was meeting with a financial advisor (at least, that's what I'd call him), and he had to go out of the office to get something. It took a few minutes, during which time I sat, waited and prayed. When he had to go out a second time, I presumed that he would be a few minutes again, so I got out my prayer book and began to look at the long Obligatory Prayer.

When he returned, he saw my prayer book, and very reverentially asked if he could see it. He did this with so much respect, that I was touched. We had a marvelous conversation about the importance of religion, and he said that if I ever wanted to talk about spiritual matters, I should just give him a call. My spidey-sense went a-tingling, and the upshot of it all is that we are beginning Ruhi Book 1 with a group of his friends.

I attribute this to prayer.

This also got me thinking about studying the long Obligatory Prayer, so here goes.

You know, dear Reader, when I first started writing down a few thoughts about this, I began with the first phrase you say: "O Thou Who art the Lord of all names and the Maker of the heavens!" That's where I began, and that's where I was going to start.

But then, as I was waking up this morning, I realized that this is not where the prayer begins. Nosiree, and I'm sure you know that. It begins with the ablutions. It begins with the washing of the hands and then the face. Why those in that order? Well, it's kind of silly to wash your face with dirty hands, isn't it? Clean your hands first, and then use your clean hands to wash your face.

The next step is found in the portion before the text itself, in the little paragraph printed at the beginning of the prayer:

Whoso wisheth to recite this prayer, let him stand up and turn unto God, and, as he standeth in his place, let him gaze to the right and to the left, as if awaiting the mercy of his Lord, the Most Merciful, the Compassionate. Then let him say:

(And yes, I included that last little sentence, but this isn't the part that you're supposed to say.)

First you wash your hands and face, then you stand and turn to God. What does that mean? Some have said that God is everywhere, so you turn to Him in your heart, and while that is true, that isn't what is meant here. This was clarified by Someone (but I'm not sure Who), either Baha'u'llah or 'Abdu'l-Baha. This currently refers to the Shrine of Baha'u'llah, and will for at least the next 850 years or so. If you're not sure where that is, there are many great apps that will find it for you. Just google "Baha'i qiblih locator" and you'll find one fairly quickly.

Once your facing the right direction, while standing in place (in other words, not running, walking, driving, skipping or swimming), you gaze to the right and then to the left. Why? I have no idea. And how are you supposed to "gaze to the right and to the left, as if awaiting the mercy of" God? What does that look like? No clue.

Personally, if it were up to me, and I were awaiting God's mercy, I would probably be looking down at my feet, afraid to look up, or anywhere else for that matter. Not having any idea what it is Baha'u'llah expects me to do, I just kind of glance right and then left. Sort of over my shoulder a bit. Is this the "correct" way to do it? Of course it is. It's what works for me, and that's good enough. It reminds me that even though I'm facing Baha'u'llah's Shrine, God is really everywhere else, too.

Is that what it is supposed to do? I have no idea. That's just what it does for me. Will it do the same for you? Or will you have another experience? I'll never know unless you share your experience with me.

Oh, I almost forgot. There are two attributes of God listed there: "the Most Merciful, the Compassionate". As I'm sure you know by now, I see this as a reminder to myself that I should show mercy and compassion. I should show these qualities not only to others, but to myself as well.

Am I perfect? Of course not. I make tons of errors. But I still need to be merciful to myself. I need to allow myself the opportunity to grow and develop. I need to be compassionate to myself and not judge myself too harshly, much less others. (I'm sure that Shoghi will remind me of this in the years to come.) It would probably be best if I were to leave my inner perfectionist by the door, and strive for excellence without being too hard on me.

So I still need note cards or a prayer book to recite this prayer, so what? So I still have trouble remembering what to say when my forehead is bowed to the ground, so? Who cares if I sometimes have to lift my head a bit to read that particular passage (you know the one I mean)? The intention is there. And that, my friend, is what counts, as far as I'm concerned.

Once I am showing myself the proper attitude of love, mercy and compassion, then I'm ready to begin.

The Arts

2011-11-30T09:06:00.001-08:00

(Please imagine me standing on a dark stage, with a single white spotlight illuminating me. I'm talking in a deep, somber voice, sounding very serious.)

"I am an artist."

(I pause, look at various points of the audience, and continue speaking, slowly, one phrase at a time, in that voice that always denotes something important.)

"My job, in society, is to share ideas, perspectives, thoughts, things in ways you haven't seen before. Through this, it is my hope, and intention, of helping move you, and society, indeed all of civilization, towards something better, bigger, broader, more beautiful than before."

(Don't you like that alliteration? It just came naturally to me.) (Oh, sorry. I don't mean to interrupt me. I'll try not to do it again.)

"Society is like a line, drawn back through history, looking at the world through a single lens. It is the artist who moves off to the side, views reality from a different vantage point, and reports back what they have witnessed."

(George Takei in some of his more recent roles. That's the voice I'm hoping you hear. Deep. Slight British accent, even though he's not British. Perhaps cultured is the word I want. Like a professor explaining something to his students.) (Oh, sorry. I interrupted me again. My apologies.)

"When you see something from a single point, the effect of parallax is lost. The world becomes two-dimensional, loses its depth, becomes, shall we say, more dangerous. Without depth, you miss things. You more easily run into objects. You can get hurt. And there is a sad loss of context.

"With the artist, things regain perspective. Depth is added once more. Things you never dreamed of are revealed.

"But. There is a caution. The artist must be able to report back so that the audience can follow. If not, they are deemed crazy. Their work is scorned. Discounted. Dismissed. They can, at times, be deemed a danger. This can have drastic results. Stravinsky, for example, discovered this in Paris, in 1913, May 29th. This was the same time that 'Abdu'l-Baha, Himself, was in Paris."

(I didn't actually know that. I googled the date of the premiere of the Rite of Spring, just out of curiosity, and was struck by it. It seemed familiar. A quick search in "'Abdu'l-Baha in Their Midst" showed that the dates coincided. Kind of cool, that.)

Let me step back for a moment. Back to my regular voice.

There is so much written about the arts in the Baha'i Writings, and the importance of them. When I was letting the above words flow down, it occurred to me just how similar the role of the artist is to that of the Messenger of God, although on the micro scale, not the macro. When depth is lost, and things lose their context, that is when the Messenger appears.

While we all know that famous line from the Master, "Among the greatest of all great services is the education of children...", how many of us know the rest of it? "...(A)nd the promotion of the various sciences, crafts and arts." He goes on, in that same passage, to say, "The more ye persevere in this most important task, the more will ye witness the confirmations of God, to such a degree that ye yourselves will be astonished." He calls the teaching of the sciences and arts "the unshakeable foundation".

As with all things spiritual, there are many themes or concepts that we find are just not expressible in words. For that, the arts will often serve better. Once again, that elusive fourth Valley comes to mind.

But just this morning, the initial impetus for this article, I saw a short video that perfectly expressed this, and I will leave it with you for your consideration in how it applies to the teaching of the Faith.

Tests

2011-11-30T08:08:00.001-08:00

"Even the sword", 'Abdu'l-Baha is reported to have said, while in the West, "is no test to the Persian believers. They are given a chance to recant; they cry out instead: 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!' Then the sword is raised," - He shot up His arm as though brandishing a sword - "they cry out all the more 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!' But some of the people here are tested if I don't say 'How do you do?'"

There is something profound about this amusing story, as one would only expect.

I mean, look at it: He is describing the profound tests that the believers in Iran had to face, and still face. And yet, when He was in the West, there are many stories of stalwart believers, heroes of our Faith, who suffered from what I can only call panic attacks if He didn't look at them in the morning and say, "How are you?" He was busy, far busier than I can ever imagine being, and He gave so much of both His time and His Self. Surely we could forgive Him for paying attention to those who seemed to be far more in need of His attention.

But I don't think that He was criticizing anyone in particular. I think He was, instead, teaching us a lesson. Or, at least, trying to.

You see, it may just be me, but I think that religion here in the West is kind of strange. It seems that we struggle to believe that God loves us.

In Persia, they not only accept that God loves them, they were able to see firsthand that love in the Person of Baha'u'llah. They were so fully and completely committed to the Faith that they were ready to die for it. That is where they were at. Their test was that others couldn't accept their belief, but they knew that there was nothing that they could do about that, except pray.

But here, in the West, we still haven't quite believed that God could possibly love us.

This, in a sense, seems natural, for in the West we are so far from the point of origin, the cradle of the Faith. We haven't seen a Messenger here. But there, they could not deny it, for He was right in their midst. They could feel His love, see it. It was very real to them.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons why the Master's visit here is considered so important. When He was a prisoner, there were only a few people who were able to make the journey over there to actually be in His presence. They brought back such wonderful stories, but they couldn't convey what it actually felt like to be in His presence. They tried, and it is wonderful to read what they described, but it still fails to convey the reality. It is, in a way, like that fourth Valley that I've been having trouble writing about. Words just fail to convey. "The pen groaneth and the ink sheddeth tears..."

When He was here, all the friends were able to see, and feel, what it was like to be with One Who was that spiritual. We began to get a taste of what it was like to be in the presence of a Manifestation of God, even though the Master was not a Manifestation. But it was far more than we had ever seen. "For wide as is the gulf that separates 'Abdu'l-Bahá from Him Who is the Source of an independent Revelation," says Shoghi Effendi of this experience, "it can never be regarded as commensurate with the greater distance that stands between Him Who is the Center of the Covenant and His ministers who are to carry on His work, whatever be their name, their rank, their functions or their future achievements."

All this just to say how much awe I feel for the friends in Iran, how important I think the Master's visit to the West was, and how pathetic I am when I think about complaining of something in my life.

I guess I better go and do the vacuuming.

A Ladder for the Soul

2011-11-27T13:40:00.001-08:00

You may have noticed that I haven't written much this past week. Sorry about that. I had a very minor surgery, and it seemed that the rest of my body knew that something was going on. In other words, it took a bit more out of me than I expected. And I wasn't quite prepared for that, so, in short, no articles this week.

But I'm back on my feet, my head is relatively cleared, and I'm thinking about as goodly as I normally do. (No comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much.)

Oh, and Marielle was out of town, which meant that I had to look after Shoghi while recuperating. He was wonderful, so helpful, and really took care of his Papa. That's me. I can't tell you how grateful I am to the little bug.

Then last night, just to cap things off, Marielle got back in town at 5, and we were asked to give a presentation on Music and Spirituality at 6. Tons of fun, that. We really had a good time. (I can't speak for the audience, but we enjoyed ourselves.)

Anyways, amidst all the talk about the importance of music, many pieces of quotes were shared, and some very interesting ideas were expressed (mostly by people other than myself).

I could mention that we talked about how intoning a verse, as in the phrase "Intone, O My servant, the verses of God" kindles your own soul, and how kindling ignites a fire where there is none, or increases it where there is one. I could also mention how 'Abdu'l-Baha says that music is "worthy of the highest praise", and that it is "necessary that the schools teach it". I could mention all sorts of things about how music "is spiritual food for soul and heart", and "is divine and effective", and so on and so forth. But I won't. (Besides, I already did.)

Instead I want to talk briefly about how Baha'u'llah says that music is "a ladder by which souls may ascend to the realm on high."

When I searched the Writings of Baha'u'llah for other "ladders", I found that He said "Knowledge is as wings to man's life, and a ladder for his ascent." "Obligatory prayer", He said elsewhere, "is a ladder of ascent for the believer." This last is like an echo of Muhammad's statement, where He said "Prayer is a ladder by which everyone may ascend to Heaven."

Knowledge, prayer and music: three ladders by which mankind can ascend.

It would be very easy to go into a lengthy comparison of these, but instead I'll just share a simple observation made by someone last night. He said that when you position a ladder for climbing, it is very important to place it against a structure that is solid. If you don't, then the ladder is unstable and can easily fall.

Baha'u'llah, when comparing music to a ladder goes on with a warning: "Take heed, however, lest listening thereto should cause you to overstep the bounds of propriety and dignity... make it not, therefore, as wings to self and passion. Truly, We are loath to see you numbered with the foolish."

'Abdu'l-Baha, in a Pilgrim's Note quoted in a compilation by the Universal House of Justice (see, I'm not the only one who finds value in these notes), further explains this when He says, "With whatever purpose you listen to music, that purpose will be increased."

It seems to me that if our purpose in listening is to distract ourselves, then we will be even further distracted from the cares and concerns of the world. If our purpose is to elevate ourselves, then we will be further elevated.

And so, in my own humble opinion, it seems to me that I need to be doubly aware of the type of music I subject myself to, as I am with any of the arts. I love them all, and try to be aware of the effect that they have upon me. After all, all of the arts should be "productive of good results" and be "conducive to the well-being and tranquility" of all people."

That Fourth Valley

2011-11-21T09:20:00.001-08:00

Wow. I had no idea what I was getting into when I stepped into this one. "I'm gonna take a break today." "I feel like a spiritual wimp today." I can just hear the peals of divine laughter rolling in the distance.

I think I finally have a glimmering of an idea as to why most women I know seem to prefer the Four Valleys to the Seven: it's because they're up to the task. Even 'Abdu'l-Baha talks about "mental alertness, intuition, and the spiritual qualities of love and service, in which woman is strong".

But what about me? Let's see. Mental alertness? Obviously not, for I'm actually trying to write about this without the loving guidance of my wife. Intuition? Again, obviously not, for if I was acting on my intuition right now, I'm sure they'd be going off like a three-alarmer at a local firehall. (As is "A one-l lama, he's a priest. A two-l llama, he's a beast. A three-l lllama, and we need to call the fire department.") Love? Hmm. That's debatable. I mean, I am subjecting you to my sense of humour and shallow insights on this incredible Work by the Blessed Beauty. (If it's shallow, what would you call it? "Outsight"?) Service? Again, I'm not sure. How am I being of service by contributing my own seemingly senseless thoughts this morning? Well, maybe I'm being of service by helping turn you away from drivel such as mine and to the profound wisdom found within the Writings of Baha'u'llah. (One can only hope.) (Hey, there's an idea. Can you let me know if these two articles have gotten you to read, or re-read, or re-re-read The Four Valleys? Thanks.)

Anyways, back to that Fourth Valley.

When I sit back and think about it, what really comes to mind is ultimate humility. It's not nihilistic in the least, as I mistakenly said in the last article, but profoundly deep. It is a beautiful reminder that whatever we imagine we know of God, God is far more than that. Even trying to write about it defies the reality, for whatever we say ends up becoming a limiting factor. It requires a look inside, a deep and long look within to truly try and get to know oneself, while at the same time looking outside and seeing how little we really are. Noble, yes, but at the same time insignificant in comparison. It truly brings to mind those passages quotes by Shoghi Effendi in The Dispensation of Baha'u'llah:

"How bewildering to me, insignificant as I am," Bahá'u'lláh in His communion with God affirms, "is the attempt to fathom the sacred depths of Thy knowledge! How futile my efforts to visualize the magnitude of the power inherent in Thine handiwork -- the revelation of Thy creative power!" "When I contemplate, O my God, the relationship that bindeth me to Thee," He, in yet another prayer revealed in His own handwriting, testifies, "I am moved to proclaim to all created things 'verily I am God!'; and when I consider my own self, lo, I find it coarser than clay!"

Reading these passages yet again, this time in conjunction with this Fourth Valley, it occurred to me that the personal pronoun, "me", is not capitalized here. I believe, and this is, of course, only my own interpretation, that Baha'u'llah is speaking for each and every one of us. When I, Mead, contemplate my relationship to God, and remember that His Light is within me (Hidden Words 11 and 12, to name but a couple instances), it would be easy to look at that light and say "I am God", as many are wont to do of themselves. How often, in religious discourse, do we here people saying we are all God? But when I consider my own self, I really do find me to be "coarser than clay". (There are other, more colourful, metaphors that I could use, but I think I'll stick with His.)

As I've said in the past, humility is one of the most important qualities we can possess. (I used to joke with the neighbourhood kids that I had perfected all the virtues except for humility. Or else I would tell them that I had more humility in my little finger than they did in their whole body. But I always made sure that they knew I was only joking.)

Humility is what distinguishes us. It has the same root as the word "human", coming from the word "humus", or "of the earth". Without it, we are not demonstrating our human nature. "Humility exalteth man to the heaven of glory and power," Baha'u'llah writes, "whilst pride abaseth him to the depths of wretchedness and degradation."

While I could go on, my soul is weary trying to further describe what I feel when reading this Valley. I feel as though I am nothing. I keep going back and reading more of it, trying to see what else I get, and keep coming back to the question of "Who am I?" Who am I to try to write about such things? I am only a speck of dust in comparison to the Sun of Baha'u'llah. I think I expressed it best in another article.

Perhaps I'll just leave it here, publish this, and let my wife enlighten me as to what it really means, later.

The Four Valleys

2011-11-18T13:45:00.001-08:00

I'm gonna take a break today. I was going to write a bit about that prescription the Divine Physician prescribed for today, but it's really just too heavy for me, and I feel like a spiritual wimp today. Maybe I strained a spiritual muscle this past weekend. Who knows?

Besides, there is so much going on in the news with the Occupy movement today that it is difficult to separate the spectacle from the substance. So, nope. Sorry. Not going to do it today.

Instead, I'm going to go with something that sort of crossed my mind this morning. On Facebook, someone commented that they were reading the little prayer book, "Blessed is the Spot", to their child, and that they loved it. But, they, the child, felt that the valleys and the land were not really worth mentioning. Gotta love kids. My comment was that without the valleys, there would be no mountains. (And without the land, well... you can just sort of fill in the blank from there.)

That sounded kind of profound to my spiritually wimpy ears, so I thought I would go with it.

Oh, not with that lame comparison, but with the idea of Valleys, capitalized. Four of them.

You may recall a fun little article I did a while ago about the Seven Valleys (one of my personal favorites), and I have long wanted to do something similar with the Four Valleys, but just never quite got around to it. Until today.

To start, let me make a completely non-scientific observation that will certainly raise many eyebrows, and probably evoke a flurry of e-mails. I've noticed that among those people I know, there is a fairly clear divide: most of the men prefer the Seven Valleys, while the women generally prefer the Four. Like I said, this is completely non-scientific, and just a personal observation, to which I am sure there are many exceptions. (Hopefully my inbox won't swell so much now.)

Why this would be the case, I'm not really sure. It may have to do with the linear nature of the Seven, and the idea that Four seem to be more like four paths leading to a central point. Who knows.

Anyways. This slender volume begins with an admonition that, while traditional in the sense of Persian literature and letters, hits home a little too closely for my liking. It raises that all-too-traditional sense of guilt, instilled so carefully by my Jewish upbringing in a Christian culture.

But not to fear! Baha'u'llah begins, as is also traditional, with an invocation of some attributes of God: He is the Strong, the Well-Beloved!

And thank God that He uses those attributes. They are, as ever, perfectly suitable for this work. Using my also-traditional method of macro / micro, I see this as a reminder that I do actually have some strength, and that I am loved by God (and my Mother, too, I'm sure).

What follows is a number of quotes asking why the reader, me in this case, has neglected the Writer, Baha'u'llah in this case, while all the time reminding the reader (me) of His (Baha'u'llah's) love. I can only sit here and say, "Yup. Guilty as charged." I'm sure I haven't paid as much attention to God, His Messenger, or generally good things as I should have.

It would be so easy at this point to go into a detailed analysis of all the various quotes He mentions, and so on and so forth, but really, I want to get to the Valleys themselves. You can read the whole Text here, if you want. (And I really encourage it.) (Oh, and this was the best link I could find. All the others have the Seven Valleys first, and you have to do tons of scrolling.)

* * * * *

Ok. Aside time, for a moment. I just re-read the whole text. Yes, that's right. All 18 small pages of it.

You see, this is how I work. I get an idea, write the intro, based on whatever whim I happen to be following at the moment, while keeping the text in mind, and then when I lose steam for the intro, I begin to read the text in question and write about it.

Well, that ain't gonna happen here.

I tried. And failed. Tried again. Failed once more. Gave up for a bit and did a math puzzle on-line (I just love kenken puzzles), and am now trying again. This time my wife is sitting next to me, so I actually have a chance of writing something reasonable.

Anyways, what happened, before she got home, is this: I re-read the text, and made a few notes, and realized that this is just way beyond me. (Must be because I'm a man, as my wife so lovingly pointed out.) (Since I'm reading this aloud as I type, she is now trying to defend that statement by saying that she is merely following my above logic regarding men and women, 7 and 4, and you know the rest.)

What I have so far, now that I'm not being interrupted anymore (dig dig), is this:

Bahá'u'lláh says that he will look into and describe the qualities and grades of four types of people "who progress in mystic wayfaring".

The four are, I think:
Those who journey first in the valley of self transformed to God-pleasing attributes.
Those who journey by rejecting self and patterning their lives after Divine reason.
Those who journey purely by the love of God.
Those who journey in what is termed a "secret" and "bottomless sea."
(These phrases are wonderfully supplied from a Wikipedia article on this Book. Thanks.) (You didn't really think I could sum it up so nicely myself, did you?)

He seems to prefer the last of these, which He seems to consider the highest or truest form of mystic union.

As you can see, this is really way beyond me.

So, what do I usually do when I feel something is way beyond my ken and understanding? I wing it.

It's interesting to note the order in which Baha'u'llah presents these:
Valley 1 - the goal is Maqsud, the Intended One
Valley 2 - the goal is Mahmud, the Praiseworthy One
Valley 3 - it's Majdhub, the Attracting One
Valley 4 - it's Mahbub, the Beloved One

Why? I have no idea.

Now my wife is stepping in and explaining it to me, and I'm typing what she says, as best I can.

She's telling me to look above, see what I already wrote.

In the first Valley, you look at what is within you, and promote the good stuff. This requires conscious intention. The Intended One. (She's so wise.)

In the second Valley, imagine how tough it is to reject self. Not only is it an intention, it requires a sacrifice. It is a great feat of will, steadfastness. The first valley requires effort, but in the second, he sacrifices what is bad, and concentrates, focuses on God's teachings. Is this not eminently praiseworthy?

(I can only sit here in awe as she snarfs down olives and cheese.)

This is a great path, and yet it is not Baha'u'llah's favored one yet. Let's move on.

In the third Valley, it is no longer about themselves. They are no longer the author of their own transformation. It is very reminiscent of some new-born Christians. They say that your actions do not warrant your saving. Only your love of God allows you to change, and it is the Lord that transforms you. It is their love of God that is attracting these divine blessings, what these people would call "salvation". That is why they seek the environs of the Attracting One, so that they can attract these blessings.

So far, it would appear that these goals are all separate, but in reality we know that they are all attributes and titles of God. We may seek God, the Intended One, and Baha'u'llah describes how this works. Or we may seek God, the Praiseworthy, and Baha'u'llah describes this path. Alternatively, we may seek God, the Attracting One, and this is yet another path.

Now, we are given the fourth path that He describes in this Book: the path to God, the Beloved. In this path, we recognize that God loves us, far beyond our comprehension, and that whatever is put in our path is given to us because God loves us. Whatever trials and tests we may face, they are there for our strengthening, to help us increase our capacity.

But in the end, the attributes of God are not God Himself. Even the animist shamen know that there is something beyond the attributes. It is as He says in Gleanings, "If I call upon Thee by Thy Name, the All-Possessing, I am compelled to recognize that He Who holdeth in His hand the immediate destinies of all created things is but a vassal dependent upon Thee, and is the creation of but a word proceeding from Thy mouth. And if I proclaim Thee by the name of Him Who is the All-Compelling, I readily discover that He is but a suppliant fallen upon the dust, awe-stricken by Thy dreadful might, Thy sovereignty and power."

These attributes of God that Baha'u'llah describes here in the Four Valleys are pretty much as far as we can go for now. But we know that there is still more beyond them.

Going back to the fourth one, there is still a nihilistic-type mystery in there. It is so much deeper than what I allude to above. He says that we can't describe it, we can't put words to it, nor picture it, but He does give us some indication. This valley is "the apex of consciousness and the secret of divine guidance."

He goes on and says that this radiant acquiescence, as I describe above, is "the center of the mystery".

If we were all to try to understand this, this "darksome riddle", to analyze it until the trumpet sounds (which for my wife, as a musician, is every day), we would never succeed. Whenever the people asked the Prophet about this, He only answered in mysterious ways: It's "a bottomless sea". It's "the blackest of nights".

(And I wondered why I couldn't write about this. Sheesh.)

If you even try to talk about this valley, they'll nail you to a cross.

And at this point, my wife, too, gives up. "You need another article for this Valley on it's own." Good idea, o light of my life. I completely agree.

As I'm sure my readers will, too.

The Egyptian Spring and the Western Fall, part 1

2011-11-15T20:20:00.001-08:00

As you can tell from many of my recent postings, I've been watching and following as global events have been unfolding themselves before our eyes. As we all know, Baha'is are encouraged to keep up with current events, but not let the news of the day distract them from the all-important work that lays before us all.

Some friends of mine have been asking why I am not more involved with the Occupy movement, or political causes, or anything else of that nature. The fact is, and this is all just my own personal opinion and nothing official, I don't believe they will, in the end, and by themselves, really solve the issues that are facing us. This past weekend, as I was re-reading the recent Ridvan Message from April, a few sentences leapt to my attention. They are at the end of the third paragraph, in which the Universal House of Justice describes some of the socio-political rumblings of recent days, the volume of which has only increased since they wrote this.

"No matter how captivating the spectacle of the people's fervor for change, it must be remembered that there are interests which manipulate the course of events. And, so long as the remedy prescribed by the Divine Physician is not administered, the tribulations of this age will persist and deepen."

The events linked to the so-called Egyptian Spring, and the more recent Occupy movement, are surely a spectacle that captivates our attention, but, as some of the elections in the Spring countries have demonstrated, they run the risk of being all show and little substance.

The language of many of the organizations looking to shut down and evict members of the Occupy sites demonstrate their desire to make these past months of demonstration nothing more than mere placation of the masses. They bring to bear the "inconvenience" of those who live or work in the areas near these sites, without ever mentioning the "inconvenience" of those illegally evicted from their homes, or deprived of a livable wage because of the billions of dollars spent on the salaries and benefits of just a few.

It is easy, as has been amply demonstrated in the past few days, to lose sight of the real issues at play when some few give ammunition to those who would use the media, and other tools at their disposal, to cast a shadow over the entire movement due to what can only be regarded as mere distractions. We have, of course, all heard the reports of those few who are using this movement as an excuse to vent their rage or "rebel against the machine", to express nothing more than a childish desire to run amok and engage in immoral activities. We have heard the reports of dangerous fires in some of the tents, the flagrant disregard for general modesty by some, or even the death by drug overdose in some of the camps. Surely such activities can serve no purpose except to give fuel to those referred-to "interests" and aid them to try and demoralize the entire campaign. This all highlights the importance of good moral, and just plain sensible, behaviour, for lacking that, it is just too easy to discredit an entire group.

All this aside, though, it does beg the question of what is that "remedy prescribed by the Divine Physician"? What would constitute an effective action? How can we find that long-ranged vision that takes in the need for this Day?

(to be continued tomorrow)

The Master's Travels

2011-11-09T17:48:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking.

I realize that can be a dangerous thing, but it's what I've been doing today. After all, I had a root canal yesterday, and then went and accidentally bit down on that same tooth. Aside from sitting there in a bit of pain, there wasn't much else for me to do.

But today I've been thinking about some of those letters that we've received from the Universal House of Justice in the past couple of years. That, combined with the fact that I just finished reading 'Abdu'l-Baha in Their Midst (amazing book, and I highly recommend it), particularly got me thinking about a letter that came out on 29 August 2010. It's not particularly long, only 5 paragraphs, but I realized that I've never really looked at it here.

Why not?

Good question. I think it's because I didn't quite understand its importance. I'm sure that I still don't, but I'd like to. It's the letter that signaled the centenary of "the opening of a glorious new chapter in the annals of the Faith", namely the Master's departure from Haifa for Port Said. This was the beginning of His epic journey to the West. This was the journey that allowed the Faith to "burst its restraints", the first time that the "Head of the Faith enjoyed a freedom of action to pursue unencumbered its divinely prescribed mission." 16 pages in God Passes By, and 10 pages in Century of Light, deal with this historic journey, not to mention all the other countless pages that have been written about it. It's pretty important, a significant part of the history of our Faith, and the Universal House of Justice brought it to our attention, once again, with this letter.

They point out the He was in poor health, unfamiliar with the customs of the areas He visited, and generally would have been considered ill-suited to carry out such a task. Yet He arose.

But like usual, the Universal House of Justice does not merely call our attention to His sacrifice and the wonderful deeds He accomplished. No. They set this incredible example before our eyes to inspire us to "embrace receptive souls, to raise capacity for service, to build local communities, to strengthen institutions, or to exploit opportunities emerging to engage in social action and contribute to public discourse."

We are to use His example to arise whenever and wherever possible and meet with people of all walks of life with wisdom and love.

I find it quite intriguing that we have such a stage set, right now, in cities all over the world, with this "Occupy" movement. Can we not use such a forum, such a platform for discussion to uplift and inspire people with this divine Message? Can we not praise them for their efforts in drawing attention to such a crisis in our social institutions, while avoiding those forms of protest that the House of Justice implies will not meet the needs of today?

Let's remember that priceless quote from over 10 years ago: "Humanity's crying need will not be met by a struggle among competing ambitions or by protest against one or another of the countless wrongs afflicting a desperate age. It calls, rather, for a fundamental change of consciousness, for a wholehearted embrace of Bahá'u'lláh's teaching that the time has come when each human being on earth must learn to accept responsibility for the welfare of the entire human family."

Time and again the Master attended meetings and halls to praise the efforts of those who were striving to help change the world for a better place. Most of these groups were foredoomed to failure, but still He praised their efforts, while also helping them achieve a greater vision of their work.

Can we do any less?

Out of all the talks He gave, the one which He continually recommended people to study, one of those that He had translated and sent to the East, was the one He gave in a synagogue, Temple Emmanu-El in California, in which He spoke about Jesus and Muhammad. There is very little about Baha'u'llah, or the Baha'i Faith directly in that talk, except towards the very end in which there is a short mention, but He really spoke about what they needed to hear at that moment.

When reading about His travels in the West, the one thing that stands out the most to me is the time He dedicated to really listening to people's needs. To countless thousands He spoke about Baha'u'llah and the Baha'i Faith directly, but there are also countless times when He didn't. There were many times when He was indirect.

We need to look at His example, and not go to either extreme.

Admittedly, for years we, as a community, were at the extreme of not using the direct method often enough, and needed to balance that. But we should not go to the other extreme either. We should follow His example, and listen to the needs of those we would seek to teach, and then use the appropriate method, all the while showering them with love.

I'm sure I've said a lot of this before, but it seemed worth saying again.

Besides, it's a good time to look at His travels once more.

"I Do"

2011-11-03T17:28:00.003-07:00

It has been said many times before, and I'll continue to say it many more times in the future: I love my wife. (Just thought I'd get that out of the way.)

It kind of took me by surprise, the number of e-mails I received about the most recent article, the one about the YoW. Most were very positive, a few were delightfully cynical, a couple asked some questions about the effectiveness of the YoW, and one asked a question that has prompted this article. It was, essentially, "What are you Baha'is willing to do about it?" Meaning, what answers do we offer for helping strengthen the institution of marriage, and lowering this skyrocketing divorce rate.

Well, good question.

I think I've covered some of the basics of a Baha'i marriage in the past, but let's check again.

First of all, the process leading up to marriage is pretty straightforward. The two people involved have to be at least 15 years old. Then they decide for themselves whom they would like to marry. While they are free to consult their parents, the choice is really theirs, and theirs alone. "...(F)irst thou must choose one who is pleasing to thee," says 'Abdu'l-Baha, "and then the matter is subject to the consent of father and mother. Before thou makest thy choice, they have no right to interfere." (I just love the way He phrases that. Can't you just imagine the "interference" He must have seen for Him to have said that?)

From here, it would be really easy to go straight into the question of parental consent, but I'm going to ask you to hold on to that for just a moment, because there is still something that hasn't been covered: why you would propose to someone in the first place.

To better understand who you would want to marry, we have to consider what the Writings say. I mean, obviously it is more than just "one who is pleasing to thee" in the physical sense. "Bahá'í marriage", it says in the Writings, "is the commitment of the two parties one to the other, and their mutual attachment of mind and heart. Each must, however, exercise the utmost care to become thoroughly acquainted with the character of the other, that the binding covenant between them may be a tie that will endure forever." While there are many more quotes that talk further about the purpose of marriage, I want to look at a singular concept in here: we "must... exercise the utmost care to become thoroughly acquainted with the character of the other". To me, and remember this is only my personal opinion, the word "must" is an imperative. 'Abdu'l-Baha doesn't say that we might want to, or that it's a good idea. He says we "must". Why? So that the marriage "will endure forever".

When we truly get to know the character of the person we want to marry, then we basically know what we are getting into. We see their good qualities and are aware of their less than stellar attributes. Of course, we also need to be aware of our own character. This is said over and over in the Writings of all faiths.

So, to sum up: get to know yourself, know the character of your intended, then ask your parents for permission. Why? For many reasons. They probably know you better than most anyone else and can help you from being a total bozo. It also helps build family unity, and that unity will be very important when you inevitably go through tough times. Really, I could go on and on, but just know that it's a good thing to do. Oh, and it also helps develop a healthier relationship between the parents and the child right from day one. For example, I know that some day Shoghi will ask me for permission to get married. I have to begin now, and lay the groundwork, to be worthy of the trust that is involved in such a decision.

Now let's presume that consent is given, and everything is ready. Here is the most important thing of all, to me: the commitment. This is the point that I really want to touch on, for it is, in my opinion, at the heart of the matter of divorce.

In this day and age, the whole concept of a promise seems to have fallen by the wayside. You only need look around to see that this is true. When politicians are not held accountable for the promises they made during their campaign, contracts are regularly violated, corporate giants feel that they can try and flout the law: you just know that the concepts of integrity and trustworthiness have fallen. Even pre-nuptial agreements are fairly standard. In other words, people are preparing for the divorce even before they get married. Kind of makes me wonder.

When you make a promise to your spouse-to-be, it is a pledge. In the Baha'i Faith, we say, "We will all, verily, abide by the Will of God." And Baha'u'llah, elsewhere, tells us to "Be... a preserver of the sanctity of thy pledge". He doesn't just tell us to preserve our pledge, He qualifies that pledge with the word "sanctity". We've all heard of the "sanctity of marriage", but "the sanctity of our pledge"? Yes. A pledge is a sacred obligation, and we seem to have sadly forgotten it these days. Keeping faith to your word is seen as a sacred thing in most religions, and in virtually all cultures. It is only in recent times that this has been forgotten.

This pledge that we make to our spouse, before our community of loved ones, is so important. It should not be taken lightly.

When we cultivate within our children the importance of keeping our word, and talk to them openly about the "abhorrence" of divorce, then we will begin to see a decline in the divorce rate.

When we remember that the phrase in many contemporary weddings is "I do", and not "I might", and cringe from the thought of breaking our word, then we will work more diligently to maintaining our marriages, even when the times get tough.

And even though divorce is permitted in the Baha'i Writings, it is still only to be used as an absolute last resort.

What all this means to me is that we need to be far more careful in our selection of a partner, recognize the duty before God as parents to ensure that the characters of our child and their intended spouse are actually compatible and mutually encouraging, and truly appreciate the sacred nature of our word when given as a pledge.

The Year of Waiting

2011-11-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

Warning! This is a bit of a rant (although I will try to add some useful stuff in here).

Why am I warning you? Well, it just seemed appropriate. I mean, this whole topic is just ridiculous, and I wanted to vent a bit.

And just what is it that gets me going? The Year of Waiting, that precious time in which a husband and wife, or wife and husband depending on your point of view, can strive, under the guidance of an institution of the Faith, to repair any damage that may have occurred to their marriage. This is a very important time in the healing of the souls involved, and yet so many of us just seem to want to neglect it.

Ok. Let me go back a moment. To start, I have heard of many of my personal friends who have gotten divorced in the last little while, and over the years I've also spoken with many members of Assemblies who have, without violating confidentiality, confided in me about their general concerns regarding other divorces.

As you may know, divorce, while permitted, is highly discouraged within the Baha'i Faith. In fact, the Teachings "consider it a reprehensible act," says the Guardian, "which should be resorted to only in exceptional circumstances, and when grave issues are involved, transcending such...considerations as physical attraction or sexual compatibility and harmony." "...(T)he foundation of the Kingdom of God", says 'Abdu'l-Baha, "is based upon harmony and love, oneness, relationship and union, not upon differences, especially between husband and wife. If one of these two become the cause of divorce, that one will unquestionably fall into great difficulties, will become the victim of formidable calamities and experience deep remorse." Wow. Can't get a much sterner warning than that.

Now that the whole idea of divorce is put into that perspective, it needs to be mentioned that a Baha'i divorce requires a "Year of Waiting". This is, in a sense, a "cool off" period, where you have already recognized that things are not working out, and need some time away from each other to try and make things better. During this period you are not allowed to live under the same roof, sleep together, or date anyone else. It is a time for trying to reconcile. The year begins when you notify an Assembly of your intentions, and then proceed to work with their assistance in achieving reconciliation. In the event that reconciliation does not occur, this year is also a form of spiritual healing.

And yet in virtually every case I have heard about, and I mean like 95% (and no, that's not an exaggeration), the couple has asked that the "Year of Waiting" be backdated. It has even gotten to the point where I ask my friends when they tell me that they've begun a YoW (hey, good acronym) if they have asked for a backdate to the start of their year. In every single case where I've asked, the answer has been "yes".

Friends, this is ridiculous. It's absurd. It totally seems to me (and yeah, it's still only my own personal opinion) to miss the point of the YoW (I really like that acronym). Worse! I think it's disobedient to a law of Baha'u'llah (as far as I can tell).

I mean, sure, the Assembly has the right to grant a backdate, but look at the quote: "...the date of the beginning of the year of patience normally commences when one of the parties notifies the Assembly that they have separated with the intention of divorce. However, the Assembly may establish the beginning of the year of patience on a prior date provided it is satisfied such prior date reflects the actual date of separation and there is good reason for so doing." Look at that last bit again: "provided... there is good reason for so doing".

No one, not a single friend, has ever had what, to my own limited rant-filled mind, is a "good reason for so doing". And yes, I ask. I mean, they are friends, after all. And none of them have ever told me that they were offended at my asking. It was just a part of the conversation when they told me they were getting divorced.

"My partner and I have filed for a YoW." (Even the acronym sounds like it hurts. That should tell you something.)

"Did you, by any chance ask for it to be backdated?"

"Uhm , well, yes."

"I'm just curious, why?"

And there they are. I've heard all sorts of reasons from people, and not a single one of them admitted that it was a "good reason for so doing".

Oh, there were two. One asked for it to be backdated 50 weeks because her husband was due to get married again in 15 days, and she didn't want him to be a bigamist. And no, the husband was not a Baha'i.

The second was that her husband had already married again, and no he wasn't a Baha'i either. (What is it with these husbands?)

But separating "with the intention of divorce" sounds like it's already foredoomed to failure, for your intention is divorce, not reconciliation. True, but it actually works. When a couple has discovered that there are problems, and they've tried to work them out, and failed, there is probably a lot of anger and resentment involved. They separate. And their intention, at that time, is divorce. Then, after a month or two, tempers cool off (given the chance), and they can begin to work towards reconciliation.

This is when I've seen it work.

When they have given each other the gift of time apart, allowed things to cool down, and then worked with all sincerity towards getting back together: this is a recipe for success.

A family is a living entity. And when you divorce, it is as if you are killing that being.

The YoW is a chance to examine that being to see if the illness is actually terminal or not.

We need to respect that time, honour it, and really use it to its intended purpose. Not all marriages will work out. There is a reason that divorce is permitted. But it really seems a gross injustice, to me, to treat this time as if it were nothing more than an administrative nightmare.

Ok. Rant done.

And now back to your regularly scheduled blog.

Bahai-lloween

2011-10-31T11:43:00.001-07:00

When 'Abdu'l-Baha was in the West, so the story goes, He was looking over a dance floor with one of His companions. This companion was taken by the beauty of the moment and commented on how happy the dancers looked. "It's too bad", said the Master, "that they're all dead."

(Cue the Halloween music.)

This morning, as I was on my way in to work, I heard a very silly article about zombies, and that, for some twisted reason, reminded me of the above story. Which got me thinking about what I was going to write today. I didn't really have anything in mind, but this one just tickled my funny bone.

Over the years, my wife and I have talked a lot about the idea that all deep-rooted myths in our culture have some very serious significance that we need to learn. One that came up early in our conversations was the idea of the vampire as a symbol of the sexual predator. (And please don't read too much into it that this was the one my wife brought up.)

No, seriously. I mean, think about it. If you show them that you're religious, eeek, they run away. Or if you have bad breath or body odour, say from eating garlic, eeek, they run away. They only prey on their victims at night. And if you happen to fall for one of them, and get into a relationship with someone who is abusive, then you are very likely to either become an abuser yourself, or will generally only find yourself in the victim position. This is, unfortunately, all too common a phenomenon. The one who is abused swears that they will never abuse anyone, and then goes on to do just that, thus perpetuating the cycle.

It also seems to just drain the very life out of you, if you happen to be stuck in a relationship like that.

And how do you get rid of someone who is doing this to you? You basically have to stab them through the heart. I swear, I have never heard anyone so whiny, and crying out in pain, as the abuser who has been kicked out by their victim. They remind me of Paul Reubens (aka Peewee Herman) in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is probably the single most "dramatic" death scene in any film.

Of course, this is the negative version of what 'Abdu'l-Baha meant when He said, "I ask God that I may not repose for a moment, but that, night and day, in the love of the Blessed Beauty -- may my spirit be a sacrifice to Him! -- I may drink from the rosy cup of the blood of the heart." (You just knew I had to find a way to get that quote in here, didn't you?)

Werewolves? I think of them as a metaphor for bi-polar, or some other illness in which the person swings into a massive depression or anger fit with regular periodicity.

The Mummy? A symbol of those who try to find fulfillment, or immortality, through material means.

And I love them all! They're tons of fun, and a joy to see at this time of year, but they still can teach us something.

Zombies, on the other hand, are a bit more tricky, less obvious. This is due to the dual nature of the word. Originally it referred to the harmless slave-like people that were said to be found in parts of the Caribbean, but this got transformed into the flesh-eating, brain-sucking monsters from the late-60s, and was further refined into the lovable shambling creatures in such games as Plants vs Zombies, a favorite of six-year olds everywhere, if they happen to live in my house.

These later zombies have become a part of our culture, a firmly embedded piece of our mythos, which, to me, means that there is something important about them.

To figure it out, let`s define them first, just to be sure we know what we`re talking about (as if I ever do). They`re fairly mindless, with a single fixation: eating brains. They are relentless in their pursuit of this... delicacy. And they`re contagious. If you suffer a bite from one of them, then, like the vampire, or that other cultural icon, the werewolf, then you become one of them.

Kind of reminds me of peer pressure. Or mob mentality. Or addicitons.

How often has someone been silenced from speaking a truth because those around them disagreed with it? There's a wonderful book for kids called Rooth Sees a Trooth (available through Baha'i distributors everywhere) (I hope), in which the main character is the only one that see from directions, left and right. Others call her mad, in a wonderful Dr Seussian sort of poetry which kids and parents love, and someone wants to "give her a pill" to help her be more normal.

This is also like the sad times when doctors gave people lobotomies when they weren't really necessary.

When we don't just shamble along with the pack, numbing ourselves through various media like television, movies, games, the internet (yes, I include the net here), and so on, then we tend to be shunned by those around us. I don't know how often I've been looked at with almost disdain because I didn't know the latest tv show characters, but I'll tell you, it's far more often than I've been told how good it is that I don't have a tv.

Some people also regularly try to get me to take a drink of alcohol, even though they know I'm Baha'i and don't drink.

It is as if, in all these cases, people want to bring others down to their level of mindlessness. Sad, isn't it? It's like they just want to suck the brain out of my left ear.

But what can you do? You just smile and say, "No thanks." And then you continue about your way.

"Verily, they are dead", to finish off this theme with a quote, "and not living; leave them to the dead and turn thy face to the Reviver of all creatures."

Then knock on the next door, and hope for better treats.

The Ego

2011-10-29T16:28:00.000-07:00

You know that inner monologue that always seems to be going inside the head? (Yeah, I've got it, too. We all do.) Have you ever been distracted by it?

You are sitting there talking with someone. They say something, and it triggers a whole whack of thoughts that run as a monologue through your mind and you suddenly realize that you've missed everything they've just said for the past few minutes. Kind of sucks, doesn't it?

We've all been there.

Eckhart Tolle, in one of his books, makes an interesting point. He says that if we are distracted by this inner monologue, then that means that it is not us. He refers to it as the ego that tries to affirm its existence, at all costs, and says that this ego is not our true self.

When I read this, it occurred to me that it was just like the "insistent ego" that Baha'u'llah talks about.

Wouldn't it be nice to be able to quiet that voice? Have it speak just a bit softer? Have it use its "inside voice", so to speak?

I've noticed that ever since I started that meditation workshop, that voice has gotten quieter, and it just seems right to share some thoughts on this issue with you, dear Reader.

There are two questions that seem to be at the core of this issue. The first is what is the ego? The second is how do we keep the ego in check? We might as well look at one at a time.

What is the ego? As you know, I'm no expert on this subject. I am only going through the Writings, and looking at my own personal experience, to try and understand all this.

First, it seems that there are many different phrases that are used in the Writings to try and describe the same thing. Although the Master talks about a few different layers of self, I'm only going to concern myself with two: the lower and the higher self.

The lower self seems to be what is referred to as our physical self, the animal within us. It is that part of our nature that leads to the various lusts and evil thoughts. It is what is referred to in the Writings as the Satan of self, and what I think we commonly call "the ego".

The higher self seems to be more akin to our soul, and is sometimes called our spirit, or the "intelligent ego" (which makes the previous use of the term "ego" more confusing, but may be due to poor translation as it is from Promulgation of Universal Peace).

While there are many more aspects or layers involved in the reality of all this, these two seem to be pivotal to our discussion of the ego. The first is generally the bad part, while the latter is generally the good part. Shoghi Effendi describes the difference so well, as we would expect: "Self has really two meanings, or is used in two senses, in the Bahá'í writings; one is self, the identity of the individual created by God. This is the self mentioned in such passages as 'he hath known God who hath known himself etc.'. The other self is the ego, the dark, animalistic heritage each one of us has, the lower nature that can develop into a monster of selfishness, brutality, lust and so on. It is this self we must struggle against, or this side of our natures, in order to strengthen and free the spirit within us and help it to attain perfection."

In regards to our lower nature, the Master says here: "lower nature in man is symbolized as Satan -- the evil ego within us". Again, this seems to imply, to me, a distinction between the ego and our real self. This is further reinforced by many of the counsels of Shoghi Effendi. "Life", the Guardian says, "is a constant struggle, not only against forces around us, but above all against our own 'ego'."

Let us be certain that this is an on-going, an eternal struggle, for "The only people who are truly free of the 'dross of self'", says the Guardian, "are the Prophets, for to be free of one's ego is a hall-mark of perfection. We humans are never going to become perfect, for perfection belongs to a realm we are not destined to enter. However, we must constantly mount higher, seek to be more perfect."

What does all this have to do with that inner voice? That inner monologue?

Well, I'm not entirely sure, but it seems to me that this voice is usually the prompting of the ego. When we let that voice get out of control, it interferes with our ability to listen to the promptings of the spirit, as evidenced by the fact that when we quiet it, say during meditation, we are more receptive to hear that other voice that seems to really answer our questions. Also, if that inner monologue really gets out of control, it often leads to anxiety, or in some extreme cases insanity. I truly believe that this is one of the main reasons why we are encouraged to still that voice, why we often think of the purpose of meditation as being that inner stillness. Perhaps it is also why that stillness of being is considered a sign of enlightenment. Still waters, as they say, run deep.

Now there is that second question: How do we keep the ego in check? What tools do we have to help ourselves in this eternal struggle?

And does this mean that we need to completely turn this inner monologue off? I don't think so. Look at the example of the "intelligent ego" that the Master gives here: "When you wish to reflect upon or consider a matter, you consult something within you. You say, shall I do it, or shall I not do it? Is it better to make this journey or abandon it? Whom do you consult? Who is within you deciding this question? Surely there is a distinct power, an intelligent ego. Were it not distinct from your ego, you would not be consulting it."

I think we need to be aware of the difference between those two inner voices, the one that is the insistent self, and the one that is in response to our ardent prayers and meditation.

How can we tell the difference? I think the first step is to look at what the voice is saying. Is it in accord with the Writings? If the voice is saying, "Kill, kill, kill", then I think we can safely presume that it is not that higher voice. It does not lead to love, unity and all the good virtues that are conducive to the betterment of the world. When it gives us an unexpected answer to a difficult problem, one that appears to be out of left field, is still in accord with the teachings, and seems to have some sort of bearing on the issue, then perhaps it is good. We should consider it, and think of it as a response to our prayer.

There is a wonderful story from the Master in which He talks about those friends who asked His advice in various matters. "When the believers are insistent, Abdul Baha must give them answers, and it is their wish always that Abdul Baha grants them. He knows what their wish in reality is. They must make mistakes to learn, and to unfold the higher which is within themselves. The initial wish does not come from Abdul Baha. It comes from them. It is generally clothed with such words as these: 'We only wish to do that which Abdul Baha wishes us to do.' And they are sincere in this, for they do not know the subtlety of the ego of man. It is the Tempter (the subtle serpent of the mind), and the poor soul not entirely emancipated from its suggestions is deceived until entirely severed from all save God."

And Shoghi Effendi says that "the complete and entire elimination of the ego would imply perfection -- which man can never completely attain -- but the ego can and should be ever-increasingly subordinated to the enlightened soul of man. This is what spiritual progress implies."

It is not easy, for the ego is, as 'Abdu'l-Baha says, subtle.

Meditation, though, can be of great assistance in helping us in this struggle. When we find a method of meditation that works for us, one of the natural results is that this voice tends to become quieter. It also helps us realize when that voice is getting out of control, and it gives us a tool to quiet it. Whether that meditation is based on focusing on our senses and truly listening to all we can hear in an area, or done by chanting a mantra, or even by simply looking at a flame, we can use the one that works best for us to turn that volume down when needed. There are thousands of forms of meditation, and we need to explore them until we find one that works for us.

Now I'm not saying that this is the be all and end all of what the Writings say, for obviously it isn't, but this is a simple explanation that works for me, helps me understand what is happening in my own head and spirit, and allows me to grow as best I can.

Taking It for Granted

2011-10-26T15:15:00.003-07:00

There are so many things that we just take for granted in our life.

For all of our existence, we've taken the earth for granted, and are only now beginning to be aware of just how fragile life can be. Many of us take our food, shelter, friends and even family for granted. Of course, throughout history, and even today, many of us don't, but I'm speaking in general here. We've always been reminded to be grateful for what we have, to be aware of the gifts that are bestowed upon us, as they say.

Just the other day, Shoghi, my 6 year-old son, was in a tap dance class, and was goofing off the whole time in front of the mirror. (Well, maybe not the whole time, but you get the idea.) After class, he asked me how he did, and I expressed my disappointment. The following class, I told him that if he tried to pay attention, and did well, I'd give him a handful of legos. (He just loves legos.) Wow. What a difference. He never took his eyes off his teacher, got all the moves really quickly. Even the other parents commented on his good behaviour. When he came out, he asked me how he did. "Papa," he asked, "do I get a handful of legos?" "No," I replied. "You get two handfuls!" His eyes got so wide, and he was practically crying from joy at how much I praised his behaviour. The next class he asked if he would four handfuls, and I had to explain that he wouldn't get a reward of legos every time he did well. The real reward was how he improved in his dance by paying attention, and that he shouldn't only do it in expectation of a gift. In other words, don't take it for granted.

I was reminded of all this just the other day, this concept of what it is that we take for granted. Sometimes it's the good things in life, both other times it's the way that we do things, or perceive things.

There was a group of us sitting around talking about the Faith, and we got to talking about prayers and Baha'i culture. I said that there were many things that we just presume are a part of what we think is Baha'i culture, but are really just part of the layers that we add onto it.

"Like what?"

"The way we say our prayers", was the one example that came to mind. Of course, I'm sure you recall an earlier post in which I talked a bit about the way in which we say the prayers, but that wasn't what I was thinking of the other night.

No. I was thinking, instead, about the fact that we only seem to use the revealed prayers. Oh, not there's anything wrong with them. In fact, we all know that they are far more potent than our own spontaneous prayers. But what got me was that one of the Baha'is said that it was ok for people to use spontaneous prayers, "as long as they're not Baha'i". That made me wonder. Why would spontaneous prayers be acceptable for some to say, but not others?

There are many who like to say their own prayers, and it is even part of their religious tradition. As more and more people come into the Faith, we will need to assist them in recognizing the power of the revealed prayers, but at the same time we will need to be careful not criticize them for saying their own prayers from their heart.

As Shoghi Effendi said so well, "Of course prayer can be purely spontaneous, but many of the sentences and thoughts combined in Bahá'í writings of a devotional nature are easy to grasp, and the revealed Word is endowed with a power of its own."

Now this does not contradict the guidance about specific instances, such as Feast, or the Temples, in which we are only supposed to use the revealed Word. It is, instead, to talk about those other times, in which there are no particular rules. In a letter back in 2001, the Universal House of Justice wrote, "No prohibition has been found in the Bahá'í Writings against the recitation at public gatherings of prayers other than those provided in Bahá'í Scriptures." They go on in that same letter to say, "A letter dated 8 August 1942, written on behalf of Shoghi Effendi to a National Spiritual Assembly, indicates that while spontaneous prayer is permitted, the revealed verses are preferred because 'the revealed Word is endowed with a power of its own'. The friends, therefore, must use them in their own supplications with radiant joy. This does not mean, however, that in addition to such prayers, they may not, in private, use their own words whenever they feel the inclination to do so."

The question, of course, is what constitutes "in private". Some have presumed that it means whenever one is alone, but the case can be made that devotional gatherings in one's home may also be private, even though there are others present.

I think the issue here is to allow the friends the freedom to interpret the Writings in their own way, and not to judge. I, for one, have found nothing in the Writings to prohibit the use of spontaneous prayer, although we know that the revealed ones are more potent. But this is not to say that our own prayers have no potency, just that they have less than the Messenger's. No surprise that.

But I do believe that it is important to recognize our own bias in this. There are some who seem to feel that it is just plain wrong to use our own prayers, and they can make this known with a word or a glance. And this can be devastating to another. It's like the times when I say a prayer in a charismatic style. There are those who will look at me in such a manner as to imply that what I am doing is somehow wrong, or not respectful. They don't seem to realize that it is a perfectly acceptable way to pray, and preferable in many places. What they are expressing is nothing more than a cultural bias.

Back to the non-revealed prayers, though. There are many great prayers out there that are not the "revealed Word", and I would be saddened to see us lose track of them. While the prayers of St Francis of Assisi come immediately to mind, there are many others.

In fact, one of my favorite prayers, and a favorite of many of us around the world, is the one that begins, "O Lord, make me a hollow reed from which the pith of self hath been blown." And this is from Hand of the Cause of God, George Townshend.

We are at the very beginning of building a distinctly Baha'i culture, and it seems quite important to not presume that what we are doing today is somehow "it". It isn't. This distinct Baha'i culture doesn't exist yet, and most of what we think it is, is really not much more than our own cultural bias laid over some of the Baha'i teachings. "A distinctively Bahá'í culture", writes the Universal House of Justice, "will welcome an infinite diversity in regard to secondary characteristics..."

I don't think we should just take this for granted. I think we need to carefully examine each part of what we think will go into this culture, ensure that it doesn't go against the spirit of the teachings, and does not leave people out, just because it isn't part of our own personal cultural background.

Tablet of Ahmad, section 3, part 2

2011-10-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

This one makes me nervous. Oh, not the Tablet itself, just the thought of trying to figure out what I get out of this particular line:

"Be thou as a flame of fire to My enemies and a river of life eternal to My loved ones, and be not of those who doubt."

Well, the last part is fairly straightforward, I think. Be certain in your faith. Not too hard to figure that out. (Although, I'm sure I'm missing many layers of meaning.)

But what about the first part? "Be thou as a flame of fire"? What does that mean? There have been many thoughts written on this, most notably in Richard Gurinsky's book, Learn Well This Tablet, and I'm not going to share them all here, for this would just become too cumbersome to read. Instead, I will offer some meditations on what it means to me.

Why am I focusing on this? Because it is the one line in this whole Tablet that confuses me the most, and I suspect that the rest of the sentence will unfold once I get a grip on it. (Of course, the part about the "reward of a hundred martyrs" comes a close second, as far as confusing me goes.)

First of all, Baha'u'llah was very specific in this line. Of course, the Guardian was, too, in his translation, and as I can't read the original in Arabic, I'm going to presume that it was Baha'u'llah. He is not telling Ahmad to be a fire to His enemies. He is precisely pointing him to be a "flame of fire". What's the difference?

To try and figure this out, I'm going back to the Bible. Why? I don't know. It just feels right. Please bear with me while I do a quick search.

(Feel free to get a cup of tea or something. I'm sure this will take a while. There are over 60 references that I've just found.) (I'm scanning through them and will pull out the ones that catch my attention.)

Okay. You back? I'm ready, if you are.

Well, there is a reference to a "flame of fire" way back in Exodus (3:2, to be precise), when Moses encounters the Burning Bush. Here, the Spirit appears in the flame, and it doesn't consume the bush. In Psalms 104:4 and Hebrews 1:7, it says that God makes His servants "flames of fire". In Revelation 1:14, 2:18, and again in 19:12, the eyes of the Son of God are said to be like the flame of fire, but that seems to be a bit different.

In Job 18:5, there is an interesting reference: "For the light of the sinner is put out, and the flame of his fire is not shining." To me, this reads as if the flame is the light of our soul, or spirit, and that when we don't live according to the Divine Will, this flame diminishes.

Isaiah 43:2 "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, and flame will not scorch you." A reference that it is the flame that does the scorching, but other than that, it doesn't see particularly relevant.

Ezekiel 21:15 "In order that hearts may become soft, and the number of those who are falling may be increased, I have sent death by the sword against all their doors: you are made like a flame, you are polished for death." This, when seen in the context of the entire passage, seems to be a reference to the sword of God exacting justice against those who are not doing God's Will. It is the sword that is made like a flame, similar to the one held by the angel outside Eden, and it is polished, as in just before a battle.

Aside from these, there are also many other references to the flames burning things, both good and bad. Too many to list here. Let's just say that flame burns.

So this imagery of a flame of fire is not new.

But what is it? I'm still not sure. One source says this refers to “the intense, all-consuming operation of his holiness in relation to sin.”

Well, that gets me thinking. It would be like the fire that consumes the veils, of which there are countless references in the Writings. It is also like the barrier that stands between the "wicked" and the good things in life. A filter, if you will. In fact, it seems to act as both at once: a veil burner and a filter. Hmm. Kind of neat, that.

It seems to me that being "a flame of fire to my enemies" could be, as many others have said before, an indication of how we are to act around those who would oppose Baha'u'llah's message. We are to share the Words and teachings with love and courtesy, dignity and steadfastness. By doing so, we may be able to assist them in burning away the veils of separation.

If they choose to still oppose, then our confidence and trust in God will be as a barrier between them and our own faith. They will not be able to touch it.

This stance, however, will give greater confidence and encouragement to those who do believe that watch us.

It reminds me of the many stories of the early martyrs and how their steadfastness in the face of awesome trials became the means by which many others either became Baha'i, or found the strength to arise and face their own tests. And this particular understanding of this line also seems very relevant to one like Ahmad, who was to go back to Iran and face tremendous trials of his own.

"Be thou as a flame of fire to My enemies": Use assertiveness, in conjunction with courtesy, to promote the teachings, with the hopes of helping burn away the veils of separation. At the same time, this will also act as a barrier to prevent those who would try and cast doubt in your heart from being able to achieve their aims.

"And a river of life eternal to My loved ones": Your stance, your steadfastness in the face of tremendous tests and trials, can be the cause of encouragement to others, helping them see the strength of character that the Faith engenders.

"And be not of those who doubt": This is the source of that strength, isn't it? Baha'u'llah often refers to His enemies as "the agents of doubt". Just as darkness is the absence of light, doubt is the absence of certainty. This certainty of faith, which is so inspiring to others, is predicated upon there being no doubt, just as light is predicated upon there being no darkness.

Yeah, I think I like this. While I'm certain that there is so much more in there, I feel like I've gotten a bit more of a handle on this passage. I guess I'll look at the rest later, after I'd had a bit of time to digest this. After all, I don't want to get spiritual indigestion.

An Early Morning Thought

2011-10-23T09:53:00.000-07:00

I love my wife. Even at 4 in the morning, when she wakes me up after getting in from a long night at work. She is a musician in the military and had to perform for a mess dinner, which often lets out after midnight. And this particular night she got home quite late, fell asleep on the couch for a little while and eventually made her way up to bed. Hence, 4 am.

While were lying there, her still wired and me still comatose, we talked. Well, actually she talked and I sort of mumbled incoherently, which, admittedly, is not much different from our usual sort of conversation, but it was more pronounced at that early hour.

At one point I seem to recall that she was wondering if she was becoming more bi-polar. She said that she had noticed a more pronounced cycle of ups and downs, energy and lethargy, joy and despair. I pointed out that this is a natural part of life, part of that cycle of crisis and victory that we see in all other areas.

She then asked what she could do about it, how to temper it. Now she knows all about how I deal with it (as do you, dear Reader, from that article long ago called Bi-Polar Bears), but was hoping for some more thoughts.

And I guess at 4 in the morning, when my brain just isn't working all that well, or at least less well than usual, I have a better chance of being moved by that wily Concourse, or at the very least noticing that touch from that poor soul in the Concourse who is tasked with helping me.

Anyways, as she was asking, a single verse came to mind: "Be generous in prosperity and thankful in adversity...:

It occurred to me, and I shared with her, that we can be so generous with our time and energy when we are in a manic high. This is the time when we have the most to give.

When we are in the low, that is when we have to be most thankful. By looking at those things that we have to be most thankful for, those things that make our life so dear, we will be able to curtail that depression.

That was all.

It doesn't seem like much to me, but it was a nice little insight that Marielle found useful.

Occupy the Spirit

2011-10-20T07:43:00.000-07:00

As you probably know by now, I write a week's worth of articles for the spiritual blog in my local newspaper, The Times-Colonist. Well, this is my week again. (I wonder: Is it considered work on a holy day if you publish an article you wrote a few days ago?)

If you've been wondering why my output has slowed down a bit over the past while, it's because of these articles, as well as learning about my role as a chaplain at the local university. I now feel like I'm getting back into the writing mode, so my output here should go up again. Thanks for your patience.

In the meantime, here is the first of this week's articles in my local paper. It's a bit more provocative than I usually write, but c'est la vie. Enjoy, and please feel free to comment. (The editors like that.)

http://blogs.timescolonist.com/2011/10/19/occupy-the-spirit/

Tablet of Ahmad, section 3

2011-10-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

There I was, lying down with a bright light shining square in my face, with two people staring down at me. Unable to speak, I began to recite the Tablet of Ahmad in my head, over and over. Well, my intention was to recite it over and over, but I found that I couldn't recall most of the third section. It was a jumbled mess in my mind.

Oh, but let me start over again. I was at the dentist's office having a gap between two of my back teeth closed up. This was a minor but annoying problem that had been bugging me for a while, and the dentist decided to just help me out. (For a fee, of course.) He said that it would probably be better for me in the long run as this would likely prevent decay in the future. (If only all such problems were so easily solved.)

So there I was, mouth wedged open, and mind bored. After all, you can only look at those holes in the ceiling tiles for so long. That was when I decided to recite the Tablet. And that was when I realized that I couldn't recall the order of anything in that third part of it. What to do? Study it, was my answer.

It has been a long time since I've looked at this Tablet. Oh, I mean I still read it quite often, but it has been a while since I've looked at it here. One of my first articles looked at the verbs in the second sentence, and then I did a longer study of part 2 (here, here and here). Those articles have firmly fixed that half of the Tablet in my mind. Because I was able to find some sense as to the order of what is them, I find that I can never quite forget them. And thus it occurred to me this morning, as I was wondering what to write about, that I've never looked at either parts 3 or 4 here, and that is why I couldn't recall the order of various phrases in the third part.

To start, let me just remind you (not that you need it, dear Reader) of how I am defining the different sections of this Tablet: Ahmad's name. Baha'u'llah mentions his name three times in this Tablet, and that splits it into four smaller sections, if you will. (You know: part 1, "Ahmad", part 2, "Ahmad", part 3, "Ahmad", part 4.) It's not an authoritative way to look at it, nothing official there, just the way that makes it more manageable for one as dim as myself.

So here it is; the third section of the Tablet of Ahmad:

O Ahmad! Forget not My bounties while I am absent. Remember My days during thy days, and My distress and banishment in this remote prison. And be thou so steadfast in My love that thy heart shall not waver, even if the swords of the enemies rain blows upon thee and all the heavens and the earth arise against thee.

Be thou as a flame of fire to My enemies and a river of life eternal to My loved ones, and be not of those who doubt.

And if thou art overtaken by affliction in My path, or degradation for My sake, be not thou troubled thereby.

Rely upon God, thy God and the Lord of thy fathers. For the people are wandering in the paths of delusion, bereft of discernment to see God with their own eyes, or hear His Melody with their own ears. Thus have We found them, as thou also dost witness.

Thus have their superstitions become veils between them and their own hearts and kept them from the path of God, the Exalted, the Great.

Be thou assured in thyself that verily, he who turns away from this Beauty hath also turned away from the Messengers of the past and showeth pride towards God from all eternity to all eternity.

Remember, to me this all falls under the category of "informing the severed one of the message which hath been revealed by God", which is also just my own interpretation. (See that first article from way back when.)

How, you may ask?

Well, this section seems, in a sense, like information to me. "Forget not My bounties". "Remember My days". "...(B)e... steadfast in My love". "Be... as a flame of fire... and a river of life eternal". "Rely upon God". These, among others, are all information about how Ahmad is to be. Baha'u'llah also imparts other information, facts about other people, like the fact that they " are wandering in the paths of delusion, bereft of discernment to see God with their own eyes, or hear His Melody with their own ears". He also tells him that whoever "turns away from this Beauty hath also turned away from the Messengers of the past". There is lots of information in this one section.

So, let's take it from the top.

O Ahmad! Even though He is addressing Ahmad in particular, I often feel as if He is also addressing me personally. I believe that He is addressing each one of us through the person of Ahmad, and even though that is also only my personal interpretation, it works for me.

Forget not My bounties while I am absent. First and foremost in this section, we are to remember the many bounties in our life. While I could go into the many bounties in Ahmad's personal life, such as all the time he spent with the Blessed Beauty, I like to read it in a more generic manner. You see, Baha'u'llah is not here, present physically in my life. He is absent. He has passed on to His other Kingdom. But His bounties are still here, through His Writings and His institutions. Now all this is also in addition to the other many bounties that are present in my life, such as family, friends, health, the beauty of a sunrise, a caterpillar hanging on a leaf, and so on and so forth. When I recall all these bounties, I cannot help but wonder at how blessed my life is.

What a great place to begin.

Of course, it's not all peaches and roses. (Where on earth did that phrase come from?) There are some difficult moments in life, too.

Remember My days during thy days, and My distress and banishment in this remote prison. But then again, my troubles are so minuscule compared to His. You see, when I think about all the blessings in my life, I am naturally drawn to remember some of the problems, too. I don't know why. Perhaps it's a human thing, for I've heard that others have this same problem. And while I don't think I have to worry too much about two empires conspiring to throw me into prison, there are other things that are real and happening to many other people around the world that put my own problems to shame. So the dishes aren't all nice and orderly, so what? At least we have dishes. At least we have a kitchen, and a home. So the siren from the military base goes off every morning, quite often before my alarm clock goes off, so what? At least I'm not being awoken by the sound of bullets of bomb blasts.

When I look at my problems, and compare them not only to those of Baha'u'llah, but weigh them in comparison to my own blessings, they fall away to nothingness.

More than that, though, is that when I recall Baha'u'llah's life, I'm not only seeing the immensity of the problems He faced. but also the manner in which He faced them: with dignity and honour, forgiveness, compassion and love. Can I do any less? (Ok, the honest answer is yes, and I have, but I'm really trying to do better. Really, I am.)

So now I have been reminded not only of all the good things in my life, but also of how I should respond to some of the not-so-good things.

And be thou so steadfast in My love that thy heart shall not waver, even if the swords of the enemies rain blows upon thee and all the heavens and the earth arise against thee. But let's be serious, it's not easy. There are many times in my life when I get angry, and not just at other people, but at God. (Less often in the last twenty years than in the first, but still...) When some really awful things happen, it is very easy to try and lay the blame at God's feet. (That conjures up an interesting image. Feet of the Cause? Never mind.)

Looking at the structure of this line, it seems that there is a lot in it. The time to be steadfast is when things are most difficult. It's easy to be firm when things are going well, but the true test is when things are tough.

It's also relatively easy to be steadfast when it is your enemies who are causing you the pain. They are the enemy, after all, and that's what enemies do, right?

But when it is your friends who are the source of pain, when the very "heavens and the earth arise against thee", that's another story. It's not as easy then.

When it's an institution of the Faith, I'm sure it's much harder to be that detached. Imagine, for example, that I'm hurt, perhaps by another Baha'i that I feel wronged me in some way. And, of course, they feel the same. I go to my Assembly and ask for help. If they decide against me, and feel that I was the one in the wrong, that could be a source of tremendous pain. It might feel as if the very heavens were arising against me. But let's face it, they're probably right. I probably am the one in the wrong. It is at this exact time that I really need to be steadfast, not allow my heart to waver, and be obedient. Perhaps I will learn from it, and maybe even grow in strength and capacity.

If I fall away at this time, of all times, am I really doing anything other than giving in to my own ego? Probably not.

Now, dear Reader, I'd love to continue this right now, and work until the end of the section, but I have a meditation workshop I'm supposed to conduct in about 20 minutes. So I have to go. Thanks for bearing with me on this one, and I look forward to any of your thoughts or insights before I finish the section.

Thanks, Mom

2011-10-06T07:00:00.001-07:00

Another year has passed. One more trip around the sun. 365 sleeps, not including naps. Yes, that's right, it's my birthday once again.

And this year I've decided to thank my Mom.

Well, alright. I thank her a lot for many things all the time, but this year I've decided to look in the Writings and see just what it is that I really need to thank her for. Oh, I mean, besides life, sustenance, a good family, education; I'm sure the list can go on. I know it can. There are just way too many things to thank her for, if I begin to include all the things she's done for me in my life.

Like what? Let's see.

First of all, she was the one who held me "in the matrix", as 'Abdu'l-Baha puts it. It was there, in the womb, that I "passed from condition to condition, from form to form, from one shape to another, for this is according to the requirement of the universal system and divine law."

But more than that, this womb-life was also a metaphor which I can carry with me for all eternity. "The beginning of the existence of man", says 'Abdu'l-Baha, "on the terrestrial globe resembles his formation in the womb of the mother. The embryo in the womb of the mother gradually grows and develops until birth, after which it continues to grow and develop until it reaches the age of discretion and maturity. Though in infancy the signs of the mind and spirit appear in man, they do not reach the degree of perfection; they are imperfect. Only when man attains maturity do the mind and the spirit appear and become evident in utmost perfection."

So there I was, growing my body, getting it ready for the day that I would make an appearance here in this world, 44 years ago this very afternoon. And there, ta da, I came. Of course, being me, I stuck my foot out (yes, I was a breach baby) (and a month early, too), wiggled it around, and tried to climb back in. I'm sure I thought it was too cold in that delivery room. But then what? I had to grow, for I was only a baby, after all.

This is what I always try to remember. No matter how old I get here on this world, no matter how much experience I may think I'm getting, it is all like the babe in the womb. When I shuffle off this mortal coil, and enter into the next world, I will be as inexperienced as that tiny infant who was born from my Mom. I will need to spend a lot of time and energy, a lot of effort learning to grow and develop into what will pass for maturity in that next world.

This is one of the things that I learned from my Mom, whether or not she realizes it.

So there I was, a new born child, already demonstrating a gift for precociousness (month early, remember) and humour (I'm not even going to go there), and what did she do? Mom was my first educator. She showed me love right from day one. She provided for me, helped guide me and nurtured me. She was my world.

Aside - You know, to this day I still recall some of my dreams from when I was 3 years old, and they all centre around this theme of love and nurturing. I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it is that those are my earliest memories. Oh sure, I was chastised, yelled at, spanked, and all that other stuff, but it is the love that I recall clearest.

And what did I offer her in return? Well, 'Abdu'l-Baha says "a father and mother endure the greatest troubles and hardships for their children". In my case, I think they endured this "from" this child.

Another aside - When I was still in my crib, my parents gave me a wonderful set of Batman and Robin pillows. (This may explain why I so love comic books and stuff.) I was barely able to stand, but I thoroughly enjoyed my life. And I loved those pillows. But one afternoon, when I was supposed to be taking my nap, I noticed something odd: there was something sticking out of my pillow. Naturally, being the curious little monkey that I was (as opposed to the curious big monkey that I am), I pulled on it. Boop! A single, fluffy feather popped out of the pillow and flew up into the air. Neat, I thought, as I watched it drift back and forth in its downward motion. I looked back at the pillow and there was another feather ready to make the same little trip. Well, I obliged to help it. Who am I to stop one from such a lovely little journey? Boop! There it went, up and floating down. Oh, and there was another one wanting to go, too. Boop!

By the time my Mom thought to check on me, the pillow was sadly less stuffed than it had been, and my room looked like it was preparing me for all the snow that I would experience later in my life.

My poor Mom had a dickens of a time cleaning up all those feathers.

By the time she was finished, my Dad got home and asked her how her day was. She told him, with the full weight of exhaustion in her voice, about my experiments with the pillow, and the fluffy consequences.

My Dad, wonderful soul that he was, began to ask, "Didn't he have two..." But before he could finish his question, a look of horror came over both their faces as the full realization hit of what it meant by Batman and Robin each having their own pillow in my bed. They dashed upstairs just in time to see me pulling what must have been one of the last feathers out of that second pillow.

Oh yes, 'Abdu'l-Baha was right. My parents did endure troubles and hardships for me. Of course, I caused most of them, but still, I try to follow His advice. What else does He say? "Comfort thy mother and endeavor to do what is conducive to the happiness of her heart." I try. Oh, how I try. (And I can just hear my Mom saying now, "Yes, he is very trying.")

My Mom also helped shape my destiny. Not only did she give me the name "Mead", which is decidedly medieval in feel, but she is also an artist. She is a wonderful painter, and I so remember her many experiments in different fields of work. In fact, for a while she was making jewelry and even dabbled in chainmail, my own chosen profession. You see, without even realizing it, she was following the Master's statement: "...it is enjoined upon the father and mother, as a duty, to strive with all effort to train the daughter and the son, to nurse them from the breast of knowledge and to rear them in the bosom of sciences and arts."

While it was my Dad who gave me my love for science and math, and even inadvertently encouraged me in my lifelong study of spiritual matters, it was my Mom who cultivated my love of the arts. (Except for opera and classical music. I have to give Dad credit for those.)

So whereas there are many wonderful things I can say about my Dad, it really is my Mom that I credit the most. As it says in the Writings, "The first trainer of the child is the mother. The babe, like unto a green and tender branch, will grow according to the way it is trained." If there are any roses that are growing on the branch of my being, it is to Mom that the credit goes.

The thorns? Well, those are all mine.

_ _ _ _ _

Post writing addendum: I just read this to my wife and asked her how it was. She said, with much laughter in her voice, that it was wonderful for those who know both my Mom and me. She said, though, that for those of you who don't know me, you might not realize that every story in this article is absolutely true. And that my Mom and I really do act as silly as I portray us. They are, and we do. So, there you go.

Gleanings CXXVIII, take 3

2011-10-03T11:58:00.004-07:00

See? I told you I'd get back to this again. It was just a matter of being patient. Thanks.

So where was I in this quote? Oh yes:

"Say: Should your conduct, O people, contradict your professions, how think ye, then, to be able to distinguish yourselves from them who, though professing their faith in the Lord their God, have, as soon as He came unto them in the cloud of holiness, refused to acknowledge Him, and repudiated His truth? Disencumber yourselves of all attachment to this world and the vanities thereof. Beware that ye approach them not, inasmuch as they prompt you to walk after your own lusts and covetous desires, and hinder you from entering the straight and glorious Path."

Now please remember, I'm reading this entire quote as if it were all a guide towards our teaching of the Faith. I'm not saying this is how it is supposed to be read, nor am I claiming any official status in my reading of it. It's just how I'm choosing how to look at it today.

As you recall, Baha'u'llah begins this passage by reminding us that our hearts have to be pure. We cannot truly claim to be a follower if we harbour bad thoughts in our heart.

Now He is moving us towards our conduct, our actions. After all, right thought leads to right action, says the Buddha.

Oh, and when Baha'u'llah uses the word "professions", He is not referring to our job. He seems to be talking about our words, our declaration of belief. If our actions are not indicative of our words, well... "Beware, O people of Baha, lest ye walk in the ways of them whose words differ from their deeds."
Here Baha'u'llah is placing this concept in a particular context, namely that of differing ourselves from others. There are many of us who love to talk about our faith, to tell other people about what we believe. As Baha'is, we need to be visibly different from those others who, in the days of the Manifestation, spoke loftily but perpetrated the most unseemly of acts. (Wow, that's lofty language there.)

In other words, there were some who spoke of the love of God, and yet attacked those who believed differently from them. This did not show their sincerity, and did not speak well of their faith.

But then, after this, He cautions us to get rid of attachment to worldly things. I think this is a reference to being attached not only to material stuff, but also to the thoughts and opinions of those around us. In other words, our faith should be between us and God, and not based on the opinions of others. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why so many have denied the Messengers of the past during Their lifetimes.

But then, just as we think we may have a handle on this, He continues:

"Know ye that by "the world" is meant your unawareness of Him Who is your Maker, and your absorption in aught else but Him. The "life to come," on the other hand, signifieth the things that give you a safe approach to God, the All-Glorious, the Incomparable. Whatsoever deterreth you, in this Day, from loving God is nothing but the world. Flee it, that ye may be numbered with the blest. Should a man wish to adorn himself with the ornaments of the earth, to wear its apparels, or partake of the benefits it can bestow, no harm can befall him, if he alloweth nothing whatever to intervene between him and God, for God hath ordained every good thing, whether created in the heavens or in the earth, for such of His servants as truly believe in Him. Eat ye, O people, of the good things which God hath allowed you, and deprive not yourselves from His wondrous bounties. Render thanks and praise unto Him, and be of them that are truly thankful."

He gives us a definition of "the world". What is the world? Anything that comes between us and God.

In the past, and even today, many have believed that material things were bad, and spiritual things were good. Poverty, they said, was a blessing. Gold was evil.

And yet here, Baha'u'llah turns it on us. If we wish to wear fine clothes, or enjoy the good things of this world, fine. As long as it doesn't stop us from worshipping God. He reminds us that all the good things in the world were created for our enjoyment, as long as we remember to be honourable and loving towards God. Of course, this doesn't mean that we can abuse the world, for then we are not being respectful.

No. We can enjoy the bounties that this world offers us, but we always have to remember God and let nothing come between us and our Creator.

And if something does? If we discover that we don't, for example, have time to say our Obligatory Prayer because we are rushing off to a movie? Nope. "Flee it". The prayer comes first, for that is our obligation to God.

If we don't want to pay of Right of God because we want to buy that new computer? Then it has come between us and God. Not good, that.

But if we have paid our Right, purified our wealth, as He says, then why not?
Anyways. This is all just my own thought on it. For now I have to go off and do another workshop on meditation. I'm sure I'll have more to write about this later.

Distractions

2011-10-02T17:31:00.004-07:00

I'm still thinking more about Gleanings CXXVIII, really. I am. It's just that other things keep coming up that I want to share.

Let me back up for a moment, and explain.

I was recently asked to serve as a chaplain for he Baha'i community at the University of Victoria here in BC. Why? I don't know, but I was.

And yes, I'm well aware of the fact that we don't have clergy within the Baha'i Faith, but it's not the same thing at all. A chaplain, in this context, is the official representative of a faith community, helping to look after their spiritual needs, while, at the same time, aiding other students and faculty in their spiritual path as needed. (Hmm. That actually sounds pretty good. I should keep that for when others ask me what I do.) It is, in a sense, a legal definition, as opposed to a theological one. It is just like when an Assembly asks one of its members to serve as a marriage registrar. Depending on the laws of the area they should be registered as a clergy, as opposed to a lay person. The reason is that they are acting on behalf of the legally recognized body of the Faith. Even though they themselves are not "clergy", the legal definition would usually warrant them taking on that role on behalf of the institution. Besides, its free that way. As a layperson, you often have to pay.

But that's all besides the point. I only write it because so many have questioned the idea of a "Baha'i Chaplain", and I just wanted to set it straight.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, distractions. (Not that I would know anything about distractions. Not me.) (He says, whistling innocently.)

Aside - You know, it's awfully difficult to keep focus. Since I've started writing this article, my family and I went out mushroom hunting, I've watched a movie, done a crossword puzzle, and all sorts of other myriad things. I've even decided that I should write an article about the spiritual quality of mushrooms, just so that I can have a story with a good morel. (Where's the rim shot when I need it?) Oh, and I even played a few levels of a video game. Woo hoo.

Now, why am I talking about distractions? Good questions, and one that I've been wondering about for the last little while. You see, dear Reader, in my work as a chaplain, it has come to my attention that most of the students want to learn about meditation. When I was talking with some of the friends in the counselling office, they also mentioned that the majority of the students they see are trying to deal with anxiety. Now it may just be me, but I see these as related.

On a seemingly bizarre side note, I have also been conducting a workshop in my own home community on how to invite people to things. You see, it had been noticed that we had all examined our life, looked at our circumstances, made friends, found people who were interested in some of the Baha'i teachings, and were beginning to invite them to things. (This is from the outline offered by the Guardian in the Advent of Divine Justice, which I'm sure you knew.) And that is where we stuck. While the courtesy was there, people were generally not coming to stuff. After looking through Ruhi Books 2 and 6, we focused our attention on what our friends were talking about, where their interests lie, and the words we used to convey our invitations. (People seemed to be more interested in spiritual things than religious things.) After a few weeks of this, another thing came up: we were interested in talking about our faith, but not as good at listening to others talk about theirs. It seems that when our friends were telling us about what they believe, our inner voice was whirling a mile a minute, getting ready to tell them what we believed.

And this led to an understanding that we needed to learn to still that inner voice.

Which led to talking about meditation. Which, in a sense, is about focus and ignoring distractions.

Which I am not doing well, as evidenced by how little I've been writing lately.

But back to the point at hand.

When I began serving as a chaplain, I had no clue what to do, so I asked some others. In the end, I realized that they didn't really know either. And so when the students began to show up for the classes this term, I went around and talked to them. What did they want? What did they feel they needed? What would they like me to do?

The main thing that came up was "something about meditation". I suggested that they go to the meditation workshops already being offered, and many countered that "this method doesn't work for me" or "I can't relate to that style". So I decided to offer Meditation 101, an exploration of many styles of meditation so that people could find a method that works for them. It is this that I offer twice a week for those interested. (Mondays and Thursdays at 12:30 at the Multifaith Chapel at the University of Victoria.) (Blatant plug.)

At the beginning of each session, I ask the participants what they think meditation is. Once they have all responded, I offer that it could be the listening part of the conversation with our Creator. After all, if prayer is conversation with God, there has to be a time when we listen, right? Otherwise we're the ones doing all the talking, and that's just not a conversation. It's a monologue.

Then I take a moment to introduce the style of meditation we're using for the day. One method, for example, was to simply experience a flame of a candle.

"Get comfortable", I told them. "If you like to sit up straight, feel free to do so. If you prefer to slouch in your chair, or even sit on the floor, fine. The point is to be comfortable." When I said this, I could see a bit of relief on the faces of some of the friends. They weren't being told what they "had" to do. They were being allowed to do what worked for them.

"Look at the flame", I said, about this style. "You don't have to think about it, just experience it. If your inner voice starts to analyze it, or goes on about other things, fine. Gently bring your attention back to the flame. And don't worry about 'doing it wrong'. Ignore your inner perfectionist. Simply congratulate yourself for noticing that you've drifted, and gently go back to the flame."

At the end, I don't ask them what they thought of the exercise; I ask them how they felt. More than a few people have said how uplifting it is to them to reconnect with their heart, and not continually dwell on the head. So I ask that at each session, too.

It's been pretty good so far. The feedback has been positive.

This has also been a useful tool for the friends who are looking at being more effective in inviting people to things. Taking a moment to just quiet yourself allows you to better listen to the person with whom you are talking.

It also allows us better listen to the promptings of our heart, which is invaluable when teaching the Faith. After all, that is how the Concourse on High seems to communicate with us.

You know, it just occurred to me that 'Abdu'l-Baha talks about how prayer "engenders the susceptibilities of the higher intelligence". And isn't that part of it? Who knows? Could be.

Well, I think it's time to make dinner. I wouldn't want to be distracted from that now, would I?

A Drop of Oil

2011-09-26T12:00:00.001-07:00

As you know, I get a lot of my inspiration about what to write by what I read in the mornings. Well, also from talking with my wife about what I read, but you get the idea. I was going to write more about Gleanings CXXVIII, but I read this other passage from Shoghi Effendi the other day, and thought I would take a moment to write about this first.

I'll try to get back to that passage from Gleanings later, I promise.

My wife and I are planning a bit of a program for the celebration of the Birth of the Bab, on 20 October, and we were looking for ideas and inspiration in the Writings. Even though we may not use this particular quote, Marielle was so taken with the beauty of this one that I decided I should look at it.

"Lastly", says Shoghi Effendi in Citadel of Faith, "the Holy Seed of infinite preciousness, holding within itself incalculable potentialities representing the culmination of the centuries-old process of the evolution of humanity through the energies released by the series of progressive Revelations starting with Adam and concluded by the Revelation of the Seal of the Prophets, marked by the successive appearance of the branches, leaves, buds, blossoms and plucked, after six brief years by the hand of destiny, ground in the mill of martyrdom and oppression but yielding the oil whose first flickering light cast upon the somber, subterranean walls of the Siyah-Chal of Tihran, whose fire gathered brilliance in Baghdad and shone in full resplendency in its crystal globe in Adrianople, whose rays warmed and illuminated the fringes of the American, European, Australian continents through the tender ministerings of the Center of the Covenant, whose radiance is now overspreading the surface of the globe during the present Formative Age, whose full splendor is destined in the course of future milleniums to suffuse the entire planet."

What a sentence. Yes, it really is only one sentence. You know, I'm convinced that at some point in the future we will have a new adjective in the English language: Effendian. This will refer to any sentence or paragraph, or piece of writing, that is quite lengthy, but absolutely precise in its use of words. To remove any clause from an Effendian sentence, or to try and separate it into a few sentences, undermines the elegant structure of the whole piece and thereby causes it to either lose its meaning, or, at the very least, severely diminishes the emotional and intellectual impact of it. My own writing, as you well know dear Reader, is very far from Effendian.

Looking back at this sentence, again, we can see that there is a beautiful story contained or told within the poetry of it.

It begins with a seed. But not just any seed. It is a seed of "incalculable potentialities". It is a seed that will grow more than just a flower or a tree. It is a seed that will grow beyond anything we have ever seen.

Where does this seed come from? It is the seed that has grown from the tree whose tale is told in the full history of religion, beginning with Adam and concluding with Muhammad, including all the various Messengers and Manifestations in between. Shoghi Effendi is helping us visualize the entire religious history of humanity as a single body, a tree, continually growing in strength and powers, maturing, and developing its branches, on which grow the leaves, amidst which is a bud, which in turn develops into a blossom which matures, until it finally gives forth its fairest fruit. And there, within that precious fruit, lies a seed.

That fruit, as we well know, and as he alludes to, was plucked off the tree after a very short time. It is an obvious reference to the Bab, Whose ministry was cut short when He was martyred. He was, as Shoghi Effendi says with such beauty, "ground in the mill of martyrdom and oppression".

This simple metaphor, that of grinding a seed in a mill, is one that is easy to relate to. It is an action that many throughout the world, and certainly all those in the Middle East, have seen many times. It is, after all, how we get the olive oil from the olives.

From there, once we have the oil, it is further refined and can then be used, for example, as the oil for a candle. Remember, the oil that the Jews have used for millennia in many of their rituals was a refined olive oil. This is something that is very familiar to those of us with even a cursory understanding of religious history.

Once we have this refined oil, it is then ignited by a single spark. The Guardian now shifts his reference to Baha'u'llah, and shows how this same Spirit which was found in the tree of faith throughout all history, which found its fruit in the Bab, has now been further refined in the Essence of Baha'u'llah.

Once it caught fire, it began to glow ever brighter, shining its light further and further afield, moving as Baha'u'llah Himself moved, always increasing in its intensity, until its rays were cast throughout the world. This light was then further nurtured by 'Abdu'l-Baha, and then by the Guardian himself. Now, of course, it is being cared for by the Universal House of Justice, and is being encouraged to burn ever more brightly.
While Shoghi Effendi does not say that everyone on the planet will either become Baha'i, or become members of the Baha'i Community, he does promise us that this light's "full splendor is destined in the course of future milleniums to suffuse the entire planet".

And what a beautiful promise that is. It is, full pun intended, heart warming.

Gleanings CXXVIII, take 2

2011-09-22T11:30:00.001-07:00

Well, that was unexpected. I didn't expect the feedback I got from the previous article, but then again, I guess it shouldn't be too much of a surprise. After all, I was writing about a drop of that fathomless Ocean. (Actually, what has surprised me is that of all the comments that came in, not a single one was in the comment section on the blog itself. Any reason for that, dear Reader? Anything I can do to make it easier to leave comments?)

Anyways, I heard your request and I do take it to heart.

Oh, I'm sorry. Which request? Well, as you so sagely pointed out, I only looked towards the end of that passage in Gleanings, the last 3 out of the 11 that are there. "Why", you asked, "don't you begin at the beginning?"

Okey dokey, artichokey.

Aside: Have I ever mentioned that I love my Mother? (And yes, I know that "Mother" should only be capitalized when used as a name. Tough.) I'm sure I have. Well, one of her most endearing traits is her sense of humour. There was a time when she was in Japan for a wedding, and was talking with the grandmother of the bride, a little old Japanese lady. (The grandmother, not the bride.) Anyways, during this conversation, my Mom used the phrase "okey dokey artichokey". And this little old lady who spoke very little English loved it. So, what did Mom do? She taught it to her. And boy, did this woman use it. She went around for the rest of the wedding and whenever she agreed with anything, she would pipe in, "okey dokey ahta chokee." It brings a smile to my face whenever I picture her saying it.

I'm sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. Back to Gleanings. Might as well start at the beginning and go 1 paragraph at a time. Well, here it is. Paragraph 1 of Gleanings CXXVIII (128, for those of who don't read Roman):
Say: Doth it beseem a man while claiming to be a follower of his Lord, the All-Merciful, he should yet in his heart do the very deeds of the Evil One? Nay, it ill beseemeth him, and to this He Who is the Beauty of the All-Glorious will bear Me witness. Would that ye could comprehend it!
Now, please remember, I'm reading this passage as if it were all about teaching the Faith, but this is not the only way to read it. It's just the way I'm reading it today. In other words, I'm not an authority, and this is just my own thought on it.

Here, in the beginning of this passage, Baha'u'llah poses a very interesting question. Is it reasonable to say that you are a follower of God, but to do nasty things in your heart? Obviously, the answer is no.

But let's look again at what He actually says. He's not talking about committing the "deeds of the Evil One". He's talking about doing them in our heart.

This reminds me of Jesus, in Matthew 5:28, where He says, "whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." It's a very interesting condemnation, for it is, in a sense, addressing thought-crime. It follows, in a very real sense, Exodus 20:17, the 10th Commandment, which says, "You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor." Note that this is not about adultery or stealing, but about coveting. Having the desire itself is breaking the Commandment. (Theft and adultery are covered in number 7 and 8.) (And lying about it to try and cover your tracks is addressed in number 9, so there just isn't any way around it.) In fact, if you don't even allow yourself to desire, then there is really no chance of breaking the other Commandments. As Paul says, in his letter to James, "Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death."

Baha'u'llah seems to be reminding of this important Commandment right here at the beginning of this passage.

Why?

Well, obviously I don't know, but it seems to me that this all ties in to purifying ourselves in order to be the most effective teacher we can. People can spot a hypocrite a mile away, and we if are talking about things that we don't believe in, people can sense it. Later, in this very section, Baha'u'llah tells us, "Unless he teacheth his own self, the words of his mouth will not influence the heart of the seeker." So here, right at the start, He is guiding us towards this.

As Baha'u'llah is moving us further into the piece, let's go on to the second paragraph:
Cleanse from your hearts the love of worldly things, from your tongues every remembrance except His remembrance, from your entire being whatsoever may deter you from beholding His face, or may tempt you to follow the promptings of your evil and corrupt inclinations. Let God be your fear, O people, and be ye of them that tread the path of righteousness

You see, it all comes back to the heart. I wonder how many times I've used that phrase in this blog. Lots, I imagine. The prayer, "Unite the hearts of the Thy servants", begins and ends with the heart. The Arabic Hidden Words begins, in a sense with the heart: "...possess a pure, kindly and radiant heart..." In the beginning of the Kitab-i-Iqan, Baha'u'llah tells us to "sanctify your souls", and explains that one part of doing this is to cleanse our "hearts from worldly affections". Even at the very beginning in Gems of Divine Mysteries, He comments that "the sweet accents of thy soul were heard from the inmost chambers of thy heart".

Yes sir. The heart is extremely important. It is, after all, His home, "the habitation of My beauty and glory".

A few paragraphs later, He goes on to explain what is meant by "the world", but for now it is enough to see what He says here. We need to cleanse our hearts, our tongues and our entire being from anything that could lead us to temptation. Quite the tall order, that, but one that has been suggested in virtually all the sacred Books of the past.

Finally, He offers the guidance that will aid us in this: "Let God be your fear..." I wrote a bit about the idea of the "fear of God" in a previous post, so I won't go into it too much more here. But since it was so obviously misunderstood in one of the comments, I'll just re-iterate a bit here. We, mostly in the West, have mis-understood the word "fear". It is not the same as terror. It means a mild discomfort, a cautionary awareness of the immense power at play. When you fear the fire, it doesn't mean that you are mortally terrified of it, but that you exercise due caution when utilising it.

In one of His Tablets, He writes, "The fear of God hath ever been a sure defence and a safe stronghold for all the peoples of the world. It is the chief cause of the protection of mankind, and the supreme instrument for its preservation. Indeed, there existeth in man a faculty which deterreth him from, and guardeth him against, whatever is unworthy and unseemly, and which is known as his sense of shame. This, however, is confined to but a few; all have not possessed and do not possess it."

In other words,shame will protect us from committing bad acts, but not everyone has this sense. It is like the sense of sight: there are a few who are blind. If we are devoid of this sense of shame, then the fear of God will be a good substitute. We can be concerned about disappointing our Creator, seeming unworthy of His creation of us. This, too, will help keep us on the right track, that "path of righteousness."

But this probably enough for today. I could easily go on and on about this topic, but I have to conduct a workshop on meditation in an hour, so I better go get ready. Hopefully I'll be able to look more at this section again tomorrow.

.

Gleanings CXXVIII

2011-09-19T11:23:00.001-07:00

"Teach ye the Cause of God", I read this morning, "...for God hath prescribed unto every one the duty of proclaiming His Message..." Obviously this was nothing new, for I had read this passage many times, had it read to me many times. "Teach. Teach! TEACH!" That was the message I had heard over and over.

But this morning, as the hot coffee scalded away the scratchiness in my throat, it suddenly took on a different tone.

There was no longer the angst-laden insistence that was in the background of those few who had subjected me to their intonation when reading it. There was no longer the pressure of conversion that I had felt from that minority who saw it as a defense for their interpretation of the rightness of their triumphalistic attitude.

This morning, as I sat there in the quiet coffee shop, with the steam swirling upward in its Brownian dance, it became a simple observation of a task that was both routine, and demanding of the utmost attention. It was no different than telling the gardener to water the plants, or the barristas to grind the beans.

That passage, as with most of the familiar quotes we use in our daily life, was not revealed in isolation. It was part of a much longer passage, which can be found in Gleanings (number CXXVIII, if you're interested).

I began by looking at the part that was marked in my book. Oh, it was one of those mornings where I kind of opened the book at random to just see what would pop out. As you can imagine, the book fell open to a page that I often read. (The downside of opening a book at random like that is that you never randomly read the first few or last few pages. You always end up somewhere in the middle.)

I noticed, as I usually do, that Baha'u'llah says that this is "prescribed unto every one", not just a few. But then, in the very next sentence, He says that it "is acceptable only when he that teacheth the Cause is already a firm believer in God". So teaching is a rule that is to be followed. It is, in a literal sense, a duty that is ordained. We don't seem to really have a choice. But, and here's the kicker, it is only acceptable if we are a believer in God. Note that He doesn't specify being a Baha'i, but that we have to be a believer in God. Interesting.

As you can imagine, that got me thinking.

"What", I wondered, "is the context of this quote?" As I said, it doesn't appear in isolation, but is toward the end of a much larger quote. So I went back a paragraph and checked it out.

Be fair to yourselves and to others, that the evidences of justice may be revealed, through your deeds, among Our faithful servants. Beware lest ye encroach upon the substance of your neighbor. Prove yourselves worthy of his trust and confidence in you, and withhold not from the poor the gifts which the grace of God hath bestowed upon you. He, verily, shall recompense the charitable, and doubly repay them for what they have bestowed. No God is there but Him. All creation and its empire are His. He bestoweth His gifts on whom He will, and from whom He will He withholdeth them. He is the Great Giver, the Most Generous, the Benevolent.

Interesting, I thought. While I had also read this passage many times, I had always seen it in terms of material substance, such as the trustworthiness the Bab showed when He gave the owner of some goods far more money than he had asked for regarding their sale. The man wanted to return some of the money, but the Bab refused, saying that the goods had achieved that value while in His custody, and it was only just and fair the He give the man that amount.

Now the passage took on a different tone to me, as I read it in terms of preparing me for the next paragraph, which was about teaching the Cause.

To start, He brings our attention to the importance of justice, and how we should be fair to both ourselves and others. Naturally, this brought to mind the second Hidden Word, in which we are told that through the aid of justice we will see through our own eyes, and not those of others. We will also know through our own knowledge, and not through the knowledge of our neighbours. To me, this is a strong reminder of how we should teach. We should allow others to come to their own realizations and epiphanies and not insist that they understand things as we do, for then they are not knowing things through their own knowledge, but through ours.

Then the very next word is "Beware". Immediately He is cautioning us, raising our keen awareness that we may be in danger of something. What is it? We are in danger that we might "encroach upon the substance of your neighbour." What does that mean? Well, as I said, I had often read it in terms of physical stuff, like trespassing on someone's property, or borrowing something without asking, but now I have to wonder if there is more to it. Isn't our greatest substance our spirit? Our perspective? Our point of view? It is this that I think we are in most danger of encroaching upon.

When we are discussing matters of the spirit with others, that is when we are most open, and most vulnerable. It is during these discussions that we need to be most careful, recognizing that we are walking on sacred ground. It is at these times, especially when talking with people who believe differently from us, that we most need to prove ourselves "worthy of his trust and confidence". We need to be extra careful to respect their ideas and opinions while, at the same time, sharing with them the perspective and thoughts we find in the Writings. Remember, Baha'u'llah has also told us in this same sentence "withhold not from the poor the gifts which the grace of God hath bestowed upon you."

While I had often thought of this in terms of charity, and such like, it now occurs to me that the Writings themselves are a source of wealth. In fact, we are told to offer the teachings as if we were offering a gift to a king. So, to one who is not aware of the Writings of Baha'u'llah, it is as if we are offering great wealth to one who is poor, and that is the spirit which we are asked to adopt when teaching.

What happens then? Knowledge, unlike diamonds and gold, does not leave us when we share it with others. It is multiplied, for we still have it, and now so do they. But something else interesting occurs: we learn, too. As anyone knows who has shared the Writings with others, it is the teacher who learns the most. God recompenses the charitable, as Baha'u'llah says. We are doubly repaid, if not more, for what we have given.

Rereading this paragraph in terms of the next one, where it tells us to teach the Cause, has really given me a new perspective of it.

This morning, as my now cool coffee sat there practically untouched, I read, once again, to the end of that passage, and was struck by how often Baha'u'llah seems to warn us about our attitude when teaching. Don't resort to violence. Beware not to contend with anyone. Make sure we are teaching with a kindly manner. If someone denies what we offer, we should turn to God. Don't dispute with anyone. On and on He goes, continually reminding us that our attitude is so important.

But then, just before I got up to go, I looked back at the very beginning of this passage, a few pages earlier and realized that this whole section is all about teaching.

And so, dear Reader, my encouragement to you today: go back to that passage one more time, Gleanings CXXVIII, and try reading it again, remembering that the reaction we elicit when we teach is but one aspect of this worldly realm, and see what you find in it that pertains to our teaching work. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Wrestling with the Divine

2011-09-15T11:40:00.000-07:00

You may recall an article I wrote a while ago, Creation, in which I looked at Genesis 1. I did so with an eye towards finding some of the "spiritual meanings hidden in the heart of the words", as 'Abdul-Baha put it. Needless to say, I haven't finished. I'm still looking for more of the "spiritual meanings".

Just the other day I was reminded of the story of Jacob, and decided to revisit Genesis, and the story of Jacob, in particular. I was reminded of how he wrestled with an angel, and I was left wondering why this would have been the case. I mean, it sure seems like an odd pastime, if you ask me. I could think of many better things to do with my time. And if I met an angel, wrestling it is not one of the first things that would cross my mind.

Aside - A number of years ago I was visiting a friend's church, and had the pleasure of sitting next to the Reverend over lunch. He looked a bit embarrassed, because they were using paper plates and party napkins with the WWF logo on them. And no, it wasn't the World Wildlife Fund. It was the World Wrestling Federation. I smiled at him, hoping to dispel his discomfort, and said that this was appropriate. After all, I reasoned, wrestling is a sport found in the Bible.

But back to Jacob. To recount, Jacob had already received the blessing from his father, Isaac, and he had been married for some time. He was successful in his life, with a lot of sheep, and a very healthy family. It was at this time that he chose to return home and see his brother again. But, since he had tricked Isaac into giving him the blessing instead of his brother, he was a bit fearful that his brother might want to kill him.

"Should I? Shouldn't I?" He was obviously torn as to whether or not he should go back. He, in fact, wrestled with this question.

It was at this point that he was visited by a "man", wrestled with him throughout the night, and when the "man" realized that he could not overpower Jacob, dislocated his hip. Yowch. That had to have hurt. And Jacob, instead of letting go, asked for a blessing. (Again, not the first thing that would have crossed my mind to do.) This is when he was called "Israel", "he who has striven with the divine".

There are many interesting aspects to this story, not the least of which is how Jacob asked for a blessing, instead of any other gifts he may have requested. No. It was a blessing that was most important to him.

My question, though, is what else can we learn from this, besides the importance of a blessing?

Well, to start, I think it there is a lesson about the divine, or sacred Text. When reading Genesis, it is sometimes very difficult to figure out the history as it does not always appear to be what we would call "historically accurate". There seem to be a few areas which are unclear.

In our culture, speaking as a North American, we tend to try and read everything as if it is a scientific treatise, clear and concise from start to finish, hence the propensity of many to try to read a literal interpretation of it. But this is not always the case, nor should it be. Poetry, for example, is often non-linear and laden with multiple meanings.

When trying to describe the indescribable, I believe that the sacred Books of the world also speak in a way that would lead us to contemplate, not to merely cognate.

There are many problems that tend to creep up when you try to take sacred text too literally. The main one, of course, is that you lose the overall sense of spirit. As I often say, the underlying message of Jesus is that of love. If there is anything in His message that leads us to anything other than love of another, we can be fairly sure that we have misunderstood it. Similarly, the underlying message of Baha'u'llah is that of unity. If there is anything in His teachings that leads us anywhere other than unity, then we can be sure that we need to meditate on it more, for we have missed the point.

But let me be clear: this is not easy. It is a long and difficult process for most of us.

It is, to me, like Jacob wrestling the angel. It is arduous, and we can even get hurt in the process. But ultimately, it is well worth it.

When we wrestle with the divine, grapple with difficult issues, put aside our own pains and passions, then we can, at last, arrive at a point where we can receive that blessing.

But the struggle is never with anyone else. It is always within ourselves. And this, perhaps, is why it was an angel that wrestled with Jacob, and not another human being.

In fact, when we look at the story, don't we see ourselves in his position? Aren't we scared of what others may think, or do? Aren't we overly conscious of the wrongs we have committed, and fearful that those we wronged will want some sort of revenge? But then, when we grapple with the spiritual issues within us and face those of whom we are scared, we find a loving brother ready to embrace us.

Yeah. I just love the story of Jacob.

Perhaps I'll look at the story of Joseph another time.

Whatever. I can guarantee, though, that I'll continue to look at Genesis and see what other little spiritual gems are hidden within it.

A Simple Fable

2011-09-11T09:43:00.001-07:00

One day, not so very long ago, the good King was riding his horse in the countryside, enjoying the warm summer sun and the pleasant breeze. He greeted everyone he passed, praised the gardens of those he saw, and showered them all with his love.

As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, the King realized that he was beginning to get a bit hungry. He saw a pleasant little inn just over the ridge and decided to stop in for lunch.

After a very nice meal, the waitress asked him his name. He told her, and she then asked him what he did for a living.

"Well," he said, "I'm your King."

She looked at him as if he were joking and said, "Good sir, everyone knows that the King is always surrounded by his bodyguards and his court. Where are all these people, if you are the King?"

He smiled at her, pleased that she was so aware, and said, "I left them all back at the castle, for I wanted a day on my own to be able to enjoy a pleasant ride in the kingdom."

But the waitress was not convinced.

"Good sir," she persisted, "everyone knows that the King wears the finest of clothes, and that on his head is a crown. If you are the King, why, then, are you wearing such plain clothes?"

Again, the King smiled at her perception. "My good lady," he replied, "when you go out in the fields, do you wear your finest clothes, or do you, instead, dress in clothes that are more practical?"

But the waitress would still not be convinced.

"All right then," she insisted. "If you are the King, where is your heart-shaped birthmark?"

This took the King by surprise, for he had no birthmarks, and told her so.

"See", she said, as if proving that she was right. "Everyone knows of the old prophecy that the good King would be marked with love. And this obviously means that he has a birthmark in the shape of a heart. So if you don't have one, you obviously can't be the King."

At that, the King smiled patiently, but was a bit saddened by this. "My love", he told her, "is in my heart, and can be seen through my actions. Whether or not I meet your expectations, this doesn't change my reality. A good day to you, my kind woman."

He paid for his meal, leaving her a generous tip, and headed back to the castle, refreshed by his joyous ride in the country.

It's Obvious

2011-09-08T10:03:00.001-07:00

When I first began writing this blog, I thought that I had very little to say. In fact, I thought that all I would be able to do would be provide a bit of entertainment for a few friends, and hopefully draw a bit of attention to a few quotes from the Writings.

You, dear Reader, have shown me that I was wrong.

While I still don't believe that I have anything profound or incredible to say, I do believe that my perspective is worth sharing.

And while I'm at it, I should add that I believe your opinion is just as worth sharing.

While none of us may have an authoritative understanding of the Writings, we all have something worth sharing.

There is a saying attributed to Baha'u'llah, in Stories from the Delight of Hearts, in which He says that the Master listens to everything someone else says. Baha'u'llah is reported to have said, "He listens very carefully to the most hollow and senseless talk." So I guess it's ok if I share. :)

Why I Believe

2011-09-01T18:15:00.000-07:00

"Why are you a Baha'i?" That question has been asked of me so often recently that I thought I would just write it down. I've written my declaration story. I've written a bit about how I practice my faith. But I don't think I've ever really talked about why I am a Baha'i.

Well, it all starts a long time ago when I realized that my beliefs were just a bit different than those around me. Without going into much detail, I started church hopping, going from church to church to see what I could learn. It was a wonderful time, but the churches I happened to choose to visit all had the same tendency to say "We're right and everyone else is going to hell." Later this became tempered to "We're right and everyone else is wrong." Better, but still not good. It leaves no room for learning from others, and is still fairly condemnatory. (Is that a word?) (If not, it should be.)

Anyways, during this time, I began checking out other religions besides Christianity and that was when I first ran across the Baha'i Faith. When I started reading the Writings, I found there were many things I questioned, or even disagreed with. As time went on, however, I found that I came to agree with Baha'u'llah's vision.

I began to see Him as an authority, and was eventually convinced that His view of reality was far more accurate than my own. It got to the point where I realized that He was right so many times that on those few occasions when I disagreed with what He said, I went with what He said over what I believed. Eventually, by taking what He said for granted, I came to realize that He was actually correct.

And really, is this any different than a student who trusts what their teacher says? Once the teacher has proven themselves as an authority, the student accepts what they say. They may not always know why, or how, but they trust their teacher. They accept the fact that they will probably understand later.

But let me be clear: I, for one, do not advocate blind faith. As 'Abdu'l-Baha said, "By faith is meant, first, conscious knowledge, and second, the practice of good deeds." I believe that everyone should strive to find their own authority that they accept in their life, being conscious of it and understanding why they accept that authority. If they truly believe that they, themselves, are their highest authority, then I would wonder about their ego, but I would not suggest that they blindly follow someone else. Oh, and after this authority is acknowledged, then it is time to act on it. After all, what good is it to believe in something and then not act on it? As Baha'u'llah said in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, once we have recognized, then it is our duty "to observe every ordinance of Him" that we accept.

That sort of reminds me of Mark Twain when he said, "The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them." If you can read, but don't, what good does your ability do for you?

I believe the way I do because I searched. I took what Baha'u'llah said and I tested it, to the best of my ability. This is not to say that if I was not convinced according to my own deficient standards, Baha'u'llah would be any less. No. It just means that I would not have become a Baha'i.

Anyways, I tested what He said, and every single time His Writings just made more and more sense.

Eventually, I was convinced that He was a greater authority on reality than I am, and I began to take what He said as truth. When He said that He was a Messenger of God, well, I just had to accept that, too. It was not fathomable to me that He could have been wrong, or lied about it. He had convinced me.

Still does.

Holy Days - A Thought

2011-08-30T10:21:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I had the wonderful bounty of working with a few friends to help organize some of the holy days in our community. While this in itself was not unusual, I learned, in retrospect, that our approach was. And the results? Well, the results still, to this day, amaze me. It obviously left a positive impression on some others, for they are still talking about those celebrations over 10 years later.

What was different? Well, I'm sure it's not going to be news to you, dear Reader, but this method of designing the celebrations was new to me, so I thought I would share it here.

First, after getting permission from our Spiritual Assembly, we began our consultations six months ahead of time. That's right: six months. In one particular case, we were planning the celebrations for Ridvan, and started our planning way back in September. That alone was enough to surprise me. I had always thought that preparing for the holy day celebrations was nothing more than selecting a few quotes, and deciding who was going to bake the cookies. Silly me.

At our first meeting we each brought a few quotes and stories from the Writings about the significance of the holy day. We began with prayers, lots of prayers, and then looked at what the Writings said about Ridvan.

As we read through Baha'u'llah's own Words, and absorbed a bit about the significance that He placed upon that most festive season, our attitude began to change. We all started to feel a deeper appreciation of that time of year. Like most times when I read the Writings, I can't quite explain what happened, but I know that something changed inside me.

We put aside everything we thought we knew, everything we had ever seen about how to celebrate Baha'i holy days, and began with those descriptions. We read them slowly, and I don't mean one word every few seconds. No. We read a passage of two, a few sentences, maybe even an entire paragraph, and then talked about it. After all, how can you read such incredibly potent stuff without talking about how you are moved by it?

We each spoke from our heart, allowing the Words to just wash over us, carry us away, and then, when it felt right, the next person would read a bit more and we would go through it all again.

At some point, usually a few paragraphs in, we would all gravitate toward a particular phrase. The one time that I'm thinking of, the phrase we latched onto was "the divine springtime has come". Another year it was "announce the joyful tidings". I don't think the particular phrase mattered, just that it was something from the Writings.

Now we had our focus, our theme. And it wasn't just a random theme, but a solid theme based on Baha'u'llah's Words.

From there we began to give out assignments, or we would volunteer. My friend Christie always volunteered to decorate the room, and I usually volunteered to do story-telling, and help organize the program. Others would do the food, or the music part of the program, as incorporating music wasn't a strong point of mine.

The most beautiful thing about it all is that whatever we did, there was a continuity throughout the program because we all had the same phrase we were working with. This is what held it all together, what gave a sense of unity to the whole thing.

For the few years that we did this, the celebrations were unlike anything I had ever seen before, or since. While I have seen some more beautiful celebrations, or commemorations, or some that were far more poignant, these ones were each, in their own way, unique. (I just had the great pleasure of attending a garden party celebration of the Master's visit to the West, with costumes from 1912 and all, but that wasn't a holy day. Beautiful and memorable, nonetheless.)

I think I'd like to try organizing a holy day again with this method. I only hope that my Assembly will say "yes" when I ask.

Oh, and I really pray that others will help, too. I know that I could never do it on my own.

* * * * *

I just re-read the above and was reminded of another Ridvan celebration we organized. I can't recall what the unifying phrase was, but it could easily have been "announce the joyful tidings".

We celebrated the 3 holy days of the Ridvan season in the Winnipeg Baha'i Centre, the first, ninth and twelfth days. But on the other days, we took our celebration on the road. We went around Manitoba and celebrated Ridvan with the outlying communities. As the distances involved were sometimes quite far, and the friends were fairly isolated, this was a great opportunity for them to actually celebrate with people from the "big city".

There was something we found in the quotes we were looking at that talked about traveling, and since we had tossed out our preconceptions of what a celebration should look like, going to visit the friends just seemed like a natural thing.

I still recall the joy of those smaller celebrations when there was sometimes only a handful of us.

Given that there are many Baha'is in smaller communities around Vancouver Island, and September is just around the corner, I wonder if we could do something similar for next Ridvan. Hmmm.

Oh, and dear Reader, are there any celebrations that stand out in your mind that others could benefit from? I'd love to hear them. Thanks.

Yet Another Hidden Word (Number 70, Persian)

2011-08-29T10:56:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had "vuja de" while reading something? The sense that you have never read anything like it ever before?

I swear I must have read the Hidden Words dozens of times, at least, and yet, when I read this passage the other day not a single phrase out of it sounded even remotely familiar. There have been many times when I've read passages in the Writings that took on a whole new meaning that it was as if I never read them before, but this one seemed completely new to me. Well, except for the first three words.

Aside: I was in a meeting one evening, and we were getting ready to say prayers. We were all talking quietly while waiting for the last few people to come in, and a few of us had already chosen the prayers we wanted to say. One guy looked up and asked the man across from him, "What's that Hidden Word you always read?" The other man looked perplexed and asked, "How does it begin?" Without pause, I piped in, "O Son of..." There was just that moment of precious silence before everyone in the room burst out laughing.

So, yes, I did recognize the first three words. But the rest of it? I must have picked up a new edition that just recently included it in there, for I've never read it before.

Oh, sorry. Which one?

O SON OF WORLDLINESS!
Pleasant is the realm of being, wert thou to attain thereto; glorious is the domain of eternity, shouldst thou pass beyond the world of mortality; sweet is the holy ecstasy if thou drinkest of the mystic chalice from the hands of the celestial Youth. Shouldst thou attain this station, thou wouldst be freed from destruction and death, from toil and sin.

Marielle and were talking about it yesterday and she pointed out to me something very interesting about human nature, or at least my own nature. I see myself in her observation, even if nobody else thinks it refers to them. She said that the Hidden Words seem to be easily divided into two groups for most us: those that refer to us, and those that don't.

"O Son of Spirit"? "O Son of Being"? "O Son of Utterance"? "O Son of the Wondrous Vision"? "Sure! Those refer to me. I can see myself in those terms." Every single one of the openings in the Arabic Hidden Words, and most in the Persian? We can, with great joy, see Baha'u'llah referring to us in those lofty and majestic terms.

"O Son of Dust"? "O Fleeting Shadow"? Hey, they're just reminders of our ephemeral state on this earth. Sure, we can say, they refer to us.

"O Essence of Negligence"? Wait a second. "O Ye that are Lying as Dead on the Couch of Heedlessness"? Uhm... "O Ye that are Foolish, Yet Have a Name to be Wise"? Ah. Obviously not me. "O Ye Seeming Fair Yet Inwardly Foul"? Phew. I can breathe a sigh of relief, for these obviously don't refer to me.

Really?

Now it may just be me, and remember, this is nothing official, just my own simple opinion, but I think Baha'u'llah is calling out to each and every one of us. When I look at myself, I mean really look deep inside and examine myself in the light of this Revelation, and ask myself, "Am I negligent? Am I heedless? Foolish? Am I as good a person as some of my friends think, or am I inwardly foul?" I have to admit to myself that every one of these epithets can refer to me. (Well, maybe I'm not the absolute essence of negligence, but I am negligent at times.)

Another aside: I was about to say that I don't have a "name to be wise", but then I remembered Baha'u'llah's phrase, "the eternal meads of celestial wisdom". And so, a word of wisdom to you, dear Reader: Save your children the grief of having a name that is in the Writings. There is no way that we can ever live up to it. (Says the father of a child named "Shoghi".)

Maybe I just better get back to that Hidden Word I was supposed to be writing about.

"O Son of Worldliness"? Who is He referring to? Well, once again, I think He is talking to each of us. At the very least, I know He is talking to me. To be worldly, after all, means to be concerned with this world, as opposed to the spiritual world. I am only striving to overcome this, and here, in this Hidden Word, Baha'u'llah reminds us of the importance of doing that.

Pleasant, He says, is the next world. Glorious it is, if only we will take the time to pass beyond this world in our spirit. And if we desire "holy ecstasy", that is what He is offering us within His teachings. This Faith, His teachings, offer us that promised freedom from pain and death. But we have to be careful, for He doesn't offer us freedom from the pains of this world, but from the turmoil of the spirit. Remember, He extols that "crimson ink that hath been shed in (His) path", and those who drank of the cup of martyrdom often seemed to pass beyond the veil of pain despite their countless sufferings. And any work done in His path is truly a joy.

Yeah, it makes me glad that I actually read this passage this time around. It really is such a good reminder of what is important in this world.

Another Hidden Word (Number 18, Persian)

2011-08-26T21:22:00.000-07:00

Here is another Hidden Word that I just don't quite understand. I mean, I understand some of the basic meanings of it, but I always feel like I'm missing something fairly obvious.

O YE DWELLERS IN THE HIGHEST PARADISE!
Proclaim unto the children of assurance that within the realms of holiness, nigh unto the celestial paradise, a new garden hath appeared, round which circle the denizens of the realm on high and the immortal dwellers of the exalted paradise. Strive, then, that ye may attain that station, that ye may unravel the mysteries of love from its wind-flowers and learn the secret of divine and consummate wisdom from its eternal fruits. Solaced are the eyes of them that enter and abide therein!

You may recall that in the last post, about Hidden Word number 66, I said Baha'u'llah only address us human-types. Well, here I seem to be mistaken. Are we really the "dwellers in the highest paradise"? Personally, I don't feel it, but what do I know. Maybe we are. Maybe I am, if only I would learn to see myself that way.

Personally, I've always thought that Baha'u'llah was addressing the Concourse on High, but that doesn't really make a lot of sense to me, upon reflection.

No. I think He is addressing us, again. Remember, heaven is described as nearness to God, so if we recognize the Messenger of God for today, and are near Him, could there be any higher paradise?

I guess I may have to reassess my vision of myself once more. (Hey, my Mother-in-Law already calls me an Apostle, for some reason that I'll never understand, so maybe I better begin to think a bit... well, better of myself. If not, I may hear from her.)

So, working on the presumption that He is addressing me (and you, too, dear Reader, of which I have no doubt), then I have to ask, who am I to proclaim all this to? Who are the "children of assurance"? As I can't find that phrase anywhere else in the Writings, I'm sort of left on my own for that one.

I guess it refers to those who are absolutely certain about the "Day of Resurrection" and the "End Times". Muhammad refers quite a bit to them and there is a lot of importance placed on them in the Writings. After all, why would we bother proclaiming to someone about this new garden appearing if they don't believe that it can happen in the first place.

It sort of reminds me of the Tablet of Ahmad, where He is "proclaiming to the sincere ones the glad tidings of the nearness of God". It seems as if He is alluding to the idea that you can't be a sincere Muslim if you don't believe in the Return. Of course, I also don't understand how you can be a "sincere" Christian if you don't believe in His return, either, but who am I to judge?

And just what is it that we are proclaiming? A new garden. We are announcing that there is a new Faith, with new guidance from God. Once again, God has touched humanity with a new Message and all the angels on high are singing its praises.

The "denizens of the realm on high and the immortal dwellers of the exalted paradise" are all jumping for joy. Baha'u'llah tells us that if we strive, then we can join that exalted company, too. Presumably when we die, and enter into that next realm, we will be called to account for our deeds. And if those deeds are worthy, if we have made sincere efforts at trying to help usher in that long promised "Kingdom of God on earth", then we, too, will dwell in that "exalted paradise".

But there is one more thing that catches my attention. Not only are to strive to become a member of that marvelous group, we are also to strive to "unravel the mysteries of love" from the "wind-flowers" that grow in that new garden, and "learn the secret of divine and consummate wisdom from its eternal fruits".

We are not only to do our best to spread this message, which is mostly of benefit to others, but also to do our best to understand it, which is of tremendous benefit to ourselves. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Both are of benefit to both, but come on. You know what I mean.)

Oh, and I was wondering, as I read this: what is a wind-flower? It is an anemone.

Aside: A friend of mine once gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, consisting of ferns and anemones. It was really great, but I had to ask, "With fronds like these, who needs anemones?"

Anemones are really quite amazing flowers. They come in all sorts of types and colours. Their variety is staggering. And in folk-lore, they symbolize both anticipation and a sense of having been forsaken. Both meanings sure seem to speak of the Messengers of God, to me at least.

In the Kitab-i-Iqan, Baha'u'llah also refers to "the anemones of the garden of love", so there is a consistency about referring to them in the context of love.

But regardless of the meaning of flowers, this is still a beautiful quote, and not only tells us what our job is, and who we should be serving, it also tells us what we can get out of doing it.

"Solaced", He says, "are the eyes of them that enter and abide" in this garden.

And as Abdu'l-Baha is reported to have said, "At the gate of the garden, some stand and look within, but do not care to enter. Others step inside, behold its beauty, but do not penetrate far. Still others encircle this garden, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers; and having enjoyed its full beauty, pass out again by the same gate. But there are always some who enter, and becoming intoxicated with the splendor of what they behold, remain for life to tend the garden."

Reading this again, I feel that I have definitely gotten more out of this Hidden Word by writing about it, but I'm still absolutely certain that there is even more in there.

A Hidden Word (Number 66)

2011-08-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

You know, I've spent a lot of time lately writing about all sorts of things that are bouncing around in my head, but I haven't spent a lot of time looking at the Writings here. Time to fix that. I think it's time that I get back to what I really wanted to write about when I first started this blog: the Faith.

I was reading through the Hidden Words the other day and ran across one of those pieces that just confused the bejeebies out me when I was investigating. Still does, actually.

O CHILDREN OF THE DIVINE AND INVISIBLE ESSENCE!
Ye shall be hindered from loving Me and souls shall be perturbed as they make mention of Me. For minds cannot grasp Me nor hearts contain Me.

To start, who is He addressing? The "children of the divine and invisible essence"? I can only presume that this refers to all of us. After all, He does say that we are created noble, and speaks at length about our spiritual creation. So that's fairly easy. I'm certain He is referring to all of us.

Alright. That last paragraph sounded like I didn't really know that. Of course I did. I mean, as far as I can tell, Baha'u'llah only addressed us human-type people. But let's get back to that phrase for a moment: When you hear the phrase "child of the divine and invisible essence", do you really think of yourself? Can you actually picture yourself as a "child of the divine and invisible essence"? I don't know about you, but that sure doesn't sound like my image of myself.

It seems to me that this is yet another one of those moments in which Baha'u'llah is asking us to reconceptualize how we envision ourselves, not to mention others. If we were to truly see ourselves as a child of that "divine and invisible essence", wouldn't we act a bit differently than we usually do? And if we saw each other as those "children of the divine and invisible essence", wouldn't we generally treat each other a bit better than we do? I won't even go into the whole idea of how we would begin to really see ourselves as siblings if we recognize that we are all children of the same "divine and invisible" etcetera etcetera. (Come on, how many times do you want me to type that?)

But what about the next phrase? We will be hindered from loving Him? Ok. That just confuses me, so I might as well start where I usually do: with the definition of a word.

"Hindered" means to either delay or stop something from happening. As I don't think He means that we will never be able to love God, I can only presume He means the delaying aspect of the word. Or perhaps that we shall never be able to love God as much as we would like. Our hearts are just too small to be able to truly love God as He deserves.

But there may be another aspect to that, too: peer pressure.

In this world, where the "vitality of men's belief in God is dying out in every land", it is getting harder and harder to be able to believe in God. There are so many people who feel that it is archaic, or somehow non-scientific, to recognize God. There is this growing sense of feeling that it is somehow wrong to believe, without recognizing that what is really happening is that we are growing into a more mature understanding of our Creator and of creation.

On the other hand, there is also this growing pocket of fanaticism in various religious groups around the world. More and more are not only becoming increasingly judgemental, they are also threatening to inflict, or actually perpetuating, serious injury upon those believe differently. This not only has the effect of dividing people according to bizarre lines of belief, it also has the sense of ostracizing those of more moderate beliefs.

All of this becomes a hindrance in our ability to openly talk about God. Many become "perturbed as they make mention of Me".

Here in the West, we are told that the two things we should not openly talk about are religion and politics. Now, I can understand the latter, but the former? Just joking. Anything that causes people to speak angrily against each other is right out, but if we approach others with respect and love, we should be able to share our thoughts and views quite openly.

This is but one way in which we can become perturbed when we mention God.

Another way is when we feel unworthy or ashamed of mentioning Him.

Aside: I remember, and have told before, the story of the member of the Universal House of Justice who was weeping because he felt he hadn't been able to do enough to serve the Cause. That is the type of "shame" I am speaking of here.
In the end, though, we know that God is too big for minds to grasp. Whatever we think God is, He is infinitely bigger. And anyone who says that they understand God has, as Baha'u'llah says, "testified to his own ignorance".

So even though I have a few meager thoughts about this Hidden Word, it still really is beyond me.

Pride and Humility

2011-08-22T23:01:00.000-07:00

There are certain moments in human history that resonate far beyond their due. The sinking of the Titanic in 1912, the attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941, the assassination of John F. Kennedy in 1963 and the attacks on the World Trade Centre in 2001 are but a few examples that come to mind. It's not that these events are not significant, nor tragic, but just that they seem to reverberate within our social psyche far beyond what we would expect.

Looking at the Titanic, it is certainly easy to understand why. The ship was supposed to be, in a sense, man's triumph over nature. People felt we had finally built a boat that could not be sunk. We, as a people, were so confident in this that the captain, himself, is reputed to have said, "Even God cannot sink this ship." It was, in short, a boast that spoke of our confidence in our human abilities, while overlooking our dependency upon our Creator.

As Abdu'l-Baha said, "God has endowed man with intelligence so that he may safeguard and protect himself. Therefore, he must provide and surround himself with all that scientific skill can produce. He must be deliberate, thoughtful and thorough in his purposes, build the best ship and provide the most experienced captain; yet, withal, let him rely upon God and consider God as the one Keeper."

While the disaster of the Titanic, in hindsight, was the result of shoddy workmanship, underplanning, and other such human faults, it was still a stark reminder that we are never as far beyond nature as we may like. And even though the number of people killed, just over 1500, was not all that large in terms of disasters in history, it was the psychological impact upon humanity that has made it the epic disaster that it was.

Another example of this type of psychological trauma was 9-11. Again, in terms of human lives lost, while numerous and very tragic, it wasn't all that large a number. More people were dying daily due to starvation and lack of clean drinking water. But it was the effect of the attacks that made it so grievous.

From what I can tell, there were two different things that happened that day that caused this. The first was that it shattered the belief that the United States, or North America, was invulnerable to attack on domestic soil. The other was that it made a strong statement on the fragility of the economic situation of the world.

In terms of the first, there were only a few other times that attacks occurred on US soil, against the US itself. While the War of 1812 and the Mexican-American War come to mind, as well as Pearl Harbour, 9-11 was far more "at home" for most of us. There was no escaping it. It happened right there, in a big city, today. It was not fast on the heels of the Revolutionary War, in some distant outpost, or a remote island that wasn't even an actual state yet. This was more immediate.

Shortly after those attacks that launched the "war on terrorism", people all over the States were watching the skies with a bit of fear or trepidation. I remember getting off the train in Chicago a few months later and watching as people, myself included, glanced up at the Sears Tower, obviously checking to see if any unscheduled planes were heading towards it. And this just speaks of the physical attack on the Towers.

In terms of the psychological effect, I look at what the World Trade Centre signified for many of my generation. It was symbol of the unassailable wealth of the country, of the very ideology of the country. It was as a result of the attacks of that day that the US launched its so-called war on terror, the war that undermined the wealth of that great nation.

As a Baha'i I was well aware of the statements in the Writings about how this seeming supremacy would not last, and I often wondered what would precipitate the collapse of the system, but it wasn't until that morning, watching the videos of those planes colliding and the buildings falling, that I began to see how it would inevitably happen.

Both of these incidents, the Titanic and 9-11, remind me of the story of the Tower of Babel. They all are firmly embedded in the psyche of our people, and they all tell of the effects of forgetting our humility, a word which has the same root as the very word "human".

"Pride not yourselves in your glory," says Baha'u'llah, "and be not ashamed of abasement." He also reminds us that "Humility exalteth man to the heaven of glory and power, whilst pride abaseth him to the depths of wretchedness and degradation."

But not all events that are firmly fixed in the collective memory of humanity are of a negative nature. You only need to ask those who were alive at the time where they were when the first people walked on the moon to realize it.

Appreciating the Moment

2011-08-22T11:34:00.002-07:00

Well, here is the third of the articles that goes in the paper this week. I may write another one for them, but I'll probably just write a bit more here, instead.

http://communities.canada.com/victoriatimescolonist/blogs/spirituallyspeaking/archive/2011/08/22/appreciating-the-moment.aspx

The Training

2011-08-21T17:07:00.000-07:00

It's pretty warm out there today. Of course, the fact that I was wearing a suit didn't help matters.

What was that? Why was I wearing a suit? Oh, sorry. I was at a celebration of the Master's visit to North America, and had the pleasure of doing a bit of story-telling, as well as a bit of music.

And that, dear Reader, is what I wanted to mention today.

While I was there, I had a wonderful little experience that really reminded me of the power of our intuition.

My job, so to speak, was to play a bit of music with my wife and a friend of ours (Taylor), and to mingle with people and tell them stories of the Master's visit. While I would love to go on and on about all the conversations I had, there is one that really stands out. Well, two, but only one that would interest you.

While I was walking around, I had a copy of The Promulgation of Universal Peace in my hands, and a man came up to me to ask about it.

"Is this", he politely enquired, "the Baha'i Bible?"

"Uhm", I said so eloquently. I mean, I wasn't really sure what to say.

"Not really?" He could see my confusion about how to answer.

"Yeah, not really."

"Oh," he said, realizing why it was hard for me to respond, "it's only one of many."

"Exactly", I said, grateful at his quick explanation.

We talked for a little bit, and I found myself impelled to tell him the story of the revelation of the Kitab-i-Iqan. I talked about how it was revealed in a mere three days, and that Baha'u'llah had written for more than 40 years. He was visibly impressed.

I then asked him if I could read a very short paragraph to him out of the book I was holding. I said that I felt moved to read it to him. Although I didn't say anything, I blame it on that wily concourse on high. He graciously agreed, and I read the following:

"(Baha'u'llah) suffered innumerable ordeals and calamities, but during His lifetime He trained in all regions many souls who were peerless. The purpose of the appearance of the Manifestations of God is the training of the people. That is the only result of Their mission, the real outcome. The outcome of the whole life of Jesus was the training of eleven disciples and two women. Why did He suffer troubles, ordeals and calamities? For the training of these few followers. That was the result of His life. The product of the life of Christ was not the churches but the illumined souls of those who believed in Him. Afterward, they spread His teachings."

He, along with the others who were listening to our conversation, was very moved by this, and read it again himself. He completely agreed with it, and talked about profound this understanding was. In fact, he went on for a few minutes about how wonderful this quote was.

Then he went on his way to talk to some others.

Only after he left did I learn that he was the Archbishop for Victoria.

Juggling the Moment

2011-08-20T07:37:00.000-07:00

Here is the second of three articles for my local paper this week. I hope you find it inspirational, or at least enjoyable.

http://communities.canada.com/victoriatimescolonist/blogs/spirituallyspeaking/archive/2011/08/20/juggling-the-moment.aspx

The Drum

2011-08-19T09:30:00.000-07:00

As you may know, dear Reader, I also contribute to a blog on spirituality in my local newspaper, The Times-Colonist.

To read this latest article, on the drum I made at a powwow here in Victoria, you can click here: http://communities.canada.com/victoriatimescolonist/blogs/spirituallyspeaking/archive/2011/08/18/the-drum.aspx

Thanks.

A Prayer List

2011-08-10T09:53:00.001-07:00

I'm on vacation. Have I mentioned that? No? Well, I guess I am. I mean, I think I'm on vacation.

Although, it is busiest time of year for me with shows, even though I haven't booked all that many, but my son is off school, my wife is on her holidays, and Mom comes in town later today.

So, what with making stock for shows, working said shows, and having a great time with family, I'm on vacation. That's why I'm not writing all that much here right now.

Besides, I have my week of articles coming up next week for my local newspaper, so I'm writing those, too.

But I didn't want you to feel like I've left, dear Reader. You're still in my mind, my heart, and my prayers.

Oh yes. Did I mention that, too? I have a prayer list, and I regularly say prayers for "my dear Readers".

Of course, I have no idea what that really means, in the larger sense of it, so I thought I'd explore that a bit today.

It means to me that I am thinking of you, and hoping for the best for you. I am asking God, and those spirits on high, to see you happy and healthy, coming to a fuller realization of the majesty and wonder of the world around you. I am asking for the well-being of both you and those you love, and hoping that you will share with me some of what you discover.

In the past, I have had some people say that they don't want me to pray for them, and I've honoured that request. But now that I think about it, it seems to me that is a bit unfair. What they are asking is that I don't think about them, and how can I possibly honour that? If they were to have said, "Please don't light a candle for me", sure. No problem. But to me, what I call prayer is a form of conversation with my Creator. I am talking to the One that I adore, and what am I most likely to talk about? Those I love.

"When a man falls in love with a human being, it is impossible for him to keep from mentioning the name of his beloved."

And I have a deep love for you, dear Reader, which is why I share my thoughts with you, and treasure hearing yours.

Aside: I am currently serving on a local Spiritual Assembly, which is not bragging in any way since there are only a dozen or so eligible Baha'is in this community, and we have a prayer list. Just the other day the question came up of how to maintain it, for it has seemed that when someone goes on the list, they never get removed. As you can imagine, it now takes quite some time to read the list before we say our prayers. What to do? I loved the simplicity of the solution that was suggested. When we say a prayer for them, cross them off the list, unless we know that the request is for a longer term such as in the case of prolonged illness.

For me, I have a number of actual people on my list, with names and all, and I can even remember their faces most of the time. Then I have the abstract people who are still real, but I have no idea who they are, such as "the ill" or "the poor". As often as I can I try to move people from being abstract to being real, in my own mind.

Another aside: A number of years ago, I was visiting a friend in another city and, as she was working during the day, I went out and did my thing (drank coffee, made chain-mail, talked to people). One evening, though, there was a Feast, and so I went. During the consultation, the question was raised about "helping the poor". It seems that they were having trouble making their goals with either a food bank, or something like that. I don't remember. For some reason it struck me that they were all talking in the abstract. These "poor" people weren't real, in a sense, to them. Oh sure, they could sympathize with the suffering, but it seemed to me that something was missing. And so I spoke up. I asked who these "poor"were, and was met with a sea of blank looks, or probably confused looks as I'm sure I wasn't really making that much sense.

I asked if anyone knew Otto, or Jane, or Spike. That did nothing to dispel those blank, or confused, looks.

Then I asked if anyone knew the guy that stood at such-and-such corner, with the army coat and the big dog. Or the girl with him who had the pink hair. Or the guy at the other corner in the wheelchair.

A light clicked as everyone knew them by sight.

"Well," I said, "that's Otto and Jane. The other guy is Spike. Spike is a vet from the Viet Nam War and he lost his leg. That's why he's in the chair."

I said that as long as we only dealt with "the poor", we would have trouble making our commitments. But if we helped Otto and Jane and Spike, our friends, then we would never have trouble making those commitments again.

And I think of you often.

I think about your comments, your concerns, and your insights.

I think about what I would like to share with you (like a piece of that blackberry pie my wife is making in the other room) (oops, distraction).

I look at the world around me as I'm walking around town, or traipsing through the Writings searching for nothing in particular. "Wow! A bird just swooped down and grabbed a bee", I might think. (True story. Just happened about 5 minutes ago outside my window.) Or maybe I'll run across a quote and say, "That's exactly what I want to include in this article today." (See above.)

So even though I won't be writing much here over the next week while my Mom is visiting, please know that you are in my thoughts and heart, and I will be jotting down notes of things I want to share with you.

In the meantime, get off the computer and go and enjoy the beauty of the outside.

Me? I'm going to enjoy a slice of pie.

The Core, and Other Parts, of the Apple

2011-08-08T12:13:00.000-07:00

I had a very interesting conversation the other night that was, unfortunately, cut short. My friend had another phone call coming in, and I had to leave for a meeting. But it was a very thought-provoking call, and I truly hope that she is able to put some of her ideas down here.

While there were many interesting aspects to the conversation, I want to share just a bit of it with you, and get your feedback.

First of all, let me just say that she is a Baha'i and does not want to be seen as criticizing the Faith in any way whatsoever. Personally, from her, I take this as a given, and even though I am not sharing who she was, I still wanted to make that caveat very clear. She was exploring some ideas with me in the hopes of finding a higher degree of understanding. I think that is admirable. And that is, in the end, what I'm trying to do here, too.

She was wondering if we, as a community, were perhaps focused a bit too much on the core activities and forgetting about some of the principles of the Faith. We explored this question with the hopes of ensuring that there is a healthy balance in all that we do within and for this Faith of ours. Oh, and this over-focus (I'm not sure what else to call it) is from us individuals, and not from the institutions.

Before I continue, let me give a bit of a context. It seems that in the past, at least here in North America, many of us have taken something of a pendulum approach to the Faith. Those amazing people in the World Centre tell us to focus a bit more on firesides, for example, and we drop everything that we are doing and put all we got into that "most effective method of teaching the Faith... the fireside meeting in the home". They tell us to consider devoting a bit more time to summer or winter schools, and bam, everything else is put on hold while devote all our attention to those centres of learning. In other words, we have tended to look for a panacea, that one key to effective teaching, without realizing that we need to do a bit of everything as a community, responding to the various needs and requests that we see around us. Of course, this doesn't speak of everyone individually, nor of the institutions who have guided us aright over the years, but this tendency amongst some individuals has been noticed.

So, let's look at the core activities, and what that term implies. I won't bother going into what those activities are, for you probably know by now that they can be summed up as children's classes, junior youth groups, study circles and devotional gatherings. I don't need to repeat that here. (Wasn't that clever, the way I just did that? No? Oh well. I tried.)

But these are not all the activities of the community, they are only the core.

When I think of the word "core", I tend to first think of an apple. The core, as you know, is the very centre, the heart, the part of the apple that holds the seeds from which the future trees grow. It is also the part that does not get eaten, as my friend pointed out. It is not the part of the apple that feeds us. And the core is not the entire apple, either.

This led my friend and I to discuss what makes up the rest of the apple. If the core activities are just that, the core, then what are those activities or things that make up the rest of the apple?

She put forth an interesting thought, and made an observation that I think makes a lot of sense.

Aside from the obvious, such as the firesides I mentioned, or deepenings, she also said that perhaps some of the basic principles of the Faith constitute the rest of the apple.

What does that mean?

Well, let's look at it. Take the basic principle of race unity, or the oneness of humanity. This is a principle that has given many people a sense of refreshment, even a type of spiritual nourishment, if you will. We Baha'is have been very active over many years promoting this principle, so much so that even the National Spiritual Assembly here in Canada has made this the theme for this year's celebration of the Master's visit. They have asked us to focus on how He would deliver this message to all, regardless of the colour of their skin or their station in life. It was this principle that attracted many thousands to further investigate the reality of Baha'u'llah's teachings.

It is a very basic principle within the Baha'i Faith.

But in recent years a few communities have stopped their work in this field in order to concentrate more on the core activities. I'm not saying they're wrong, for I'm sure that they've consulted a lot on the issues, but I do have to wonder if it the wisest course, in retrospect. It seems that there is a lot of historical inertia that may be getting lost.

I'm aware of the statement from the World Centre that we don't want to be distracted from our activities, and this is very wise. But isn't it a fantastic opportunity to use these historically successful events to help move people into the core activities? If we have had a major presence in a women's rights conference for decades, wouldn't this be an excellent place to invite people to a women's prayer gathering? Or, as in the above case, invite people to a study circle centred around the theme of race unity?

When I'm tutoring Book 6, and get to those sections about our own personal opportunities for teaching, I always try to remind the friends to work with their own historical reality, and not try to come up with radically new things. Well, unless they really need to, of course.

I'm an artist, for example. I do a lot of work with different art groups. I meet many artists, and have a history with them. It only makes sense that when I'm making my plans, I would work around that, not in spite of it.

I also love to work with immigrant groups and interfaith organizations. Same again: I have a history with them, and am known by them. It only makes sense that I would extend most of my invitations to things to these people. They are, after all, my friends and colleagues.

And so, once again, this leads back to my phone conversation the other evening. Are we, in a sense, forgetting our roots and seeing how to integrate these roots into our current activities? I'm not sure, but I am curious to explore this.

One final thought in this article filled with questions: If the edible part of the apple is not connected to the core, then rot sets in fairly quickly, nor does it aid in the growth of the next tree.

I'm just saying, you know?

Why Would He?

2011-08-02T17:06:00.000-07:00

It never fails: I get an article almost done and something comes in to completely throw me off. Oh well. This time it was another comment, by one who calls himself (or herself) "Rational Baha'i". I love it. It is good to be reminded that there is no one group that has a monopoly on rationality. But more on that later. For now, I'll just sort of paste in the rest of the article I had previously gotten ready for posting today:

As I mentioned recently, I want to address a fairly simple point that someone made in a comment here just the other day. He calls himself "Rational Atheist", and said, "Why do you think I'm reading a religious blog in the first place? All faiths have positive aspects which I wish to explore as I contemplate life, the universe, and everything."

Now before I go on, let me just say that I have no problem with anyone calling themselves that, or describing themselves in that way. After all, is it any different than someone calling themselves a Christian? Or a Baha'i? Personally, I don't think so. These are all just labels, and, really, don't say much about how we actually live, or what we do.

Now I realize that some people may disagree with me, but please, hear me out. Just because I call myself a Baha'i doesn't mean that I am actually living up to the ideals of the Baha'i Faith (although I try). As 'Abdu'l-Baha is reported to have said when asked what is a Baha'i, "It makes no difference whether you have ever heard of Bahá'u'lláh or not, the man who lives the life according to the teachings of Bahá'u'lláh is already a Bahá'í. On the other hand a man may call himself a Bahá'í for fifty years and if he does not live the life he is not a Bahá'í. An ugly man may call himself handsome, but he deceives no one..."

So let's put the labels aside for a moment and see what we can learn from this.

One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the book Illusions, by Richard Bach. The Messiah figure in the book says something profound, and the main character asks, "Isn't that from the Peanuts?" The response, which makes so much sense to me, is that we take truth where we find it.

And that, of course, leads me back to Rational Atheist. He is contemplating "life, the universe, and everything", to which the answer is not, I presume, 42. (Yes, I've read Doug Adams, too.) (And knew better than to try and talk to him when it was raining.) (If you don't know, don't ask. It's not worth it.)

When making this contemplation, we should be searching everywhere for whatever grains of truth we can find. It is as Baha'u'llah says in the Valley of Search: One must judge of search by the standard of the Majnun of Love. It is related that one day they came upon Majnun sifting the dust, and his tears flowing down. They said, "What doest thou?" He said, "I seek for Layli." They cried, "Alas for thee! Layli is of pure spirit, and thou seekest her in the dust!" He said, "I seek her everywhere; haply somewhere I shall find her."

We must also remember "The steed of this Valley is patience; without patience the wayfarer on this journey will reach nowhere and attain no goal."

And so I ask, on his behalf, why would a self-proclaimed atheist be reading a religious blog? Because he is ardently searching for truth wherever he can.

It's funny, you know. Every religious blog I have seen has at least one atheist following it. Why? Because they are rational and striving to pick out the bits of truth that they can.

There are many of faith who take offense when these atheists raise questions that are quite reasonable. I'm not sure how many times I have read letters that are variations of "This blog is only for those who believe." Now I'm very grateful that this has never happened here, nor do I expect it, but it has happened elsewhere.

And this also leads me to another question: Who truly believes in God?

Many of us say that we do, but do we really? I would venture to say that what most of us really believe in is a figment of our own imagination. (I can hear the alarm bells going off already.)

Baha'u'llah, Himself, said, "And if I attempt to describe Thee by glorifying the oneness of Thy Being, I soon realize that such a conception is but a notion which mine own fancy hath woven, and that Thou hast ever been immeasurably exalted above the vain imaginations which the hearts of men have devised." He goes on, in the same passage, to say, "Whoso claimeth to have known Thee hath, by virtue of such a claim, testified to his own ignorance..." Pretty powerful words for One Who is the Messenger. If He claims that He is unable to Know God, who am I to think that I do?

No. It seems to me that my own understanding of God is no better than that of an atheist. Or maybe it is not even as good. After all, the atheist knows what God is not. Most atheists I know are merely rejecting other people's notion of what they think God is. And you know, I generally reject their notion, too. I have never met anyone who has a definition of God that I can agree with. And I'm certain that they would disagree with mine. No problem there. I just don't argue about it, because I know we're both wrong, or at least, incomplete.

When I see these two comments (I'm now adding to my previous writing), and their chosen noms de plume (what do you call it on the net? Noms de touche?), I think that it doesn't matter if they are Baha'i or atheist. What is important is that they are rational. They are truly considering what is before them and weighing it within their own ability. And my hat is off to them, both of them.

I can find no better way to end this than to use the quote that Rational Baha'i used in his comment: "If we are lovers of the light we adore it in whatever lamp it may become manifest but if we love the lamp itself and the light is transferred to another lamp we will neither accept nor sanction it."