Archive for the 'Reflections' Category

Becoming Champions of Justice

leila April 6th, 2010

Trust in the capacity of this generation to disentangle itself from the embroilments of a divided society. To discharge your responsibilities, you will have to show forth courage, the courage of those who cling to standards of rectitude, whose lives are characterized by purity of thought and action, and whose purpose is directed by love and indomitable faith. As you dedicate yourselves to healing the wounds with which your peoples have been afflicted, you will become invincible champions of justice.

(The Universal House of Justice, message to the Paraguay Youth Congress, 2000)

 

Dr. Susan Moody, with Baha'i women and girls in Iran.

 

When I was in high school, I read a book that left an indelible impression upon my heart.  It was The Diary of Juliet Thompson, an early American Baha’i living in New York City who had the good fortune to have spent time with ‘Abdu’l-Baha in the Holy Land, Europe, and New York.  Juliet was loved dearly by ‘Abdu’l-Baha — He said that she would become the envy of future queens — but she was by no means perfect, and I think that’s why she appealed so much to me.

I read the book again this year, as summer turned to autumn: before going to sleep, my eyelids growing heavy as I tried to catch another chapter; on the city bus, almost missing my stop; at lunch breaks from work, sitting in a garden tucked behind high-rises and not wanting my hour to be up.  One evening, lying on the couch with dinner in one hand and my book in the other, I gazed out the window at the sunset, watching a plane descend at the distance.  I had the great feeling of wanting to sacrifice very much to help bring about a new civilization that Baha’u'llah taught of, borne out of the great love for ‘Abdu’l-Baha that Juliet transmitted through these pages.

And it occurred to me that I had had that very same feeling when reading it as a high schooler.  I wondered what I had sacrificed — it didn’t feel like very much, and it always felt like I had some excuse; that “it’ll come later.”  But later was now, and what could I show of it?

Juliet’s diary did something to me, for as the autumn progressed, I picked books up and couldn’t put them down.  Books of great heroes, who sacrificed and had faith in a cause that would bring a new world long after they had passed away.  One book became two which became four, and before I knew it, I had devoured ten such books, as the fiery leaves that lined my street shriveled to dust, and D.C.’s first silent snow turned to blizzards.

These were stories of women and men in far-flung places (Persia, Bulgaria, Libya, Australia) and those closer to home (New York, Washington, D.C., Berkeley). They were stories of men who risked their very lives by, openly and stealthily, sharing with others Baha’u'llah’s message; and of women sacrificed material comforts to travel, alone, to distant lands, at advanced ages.

There are my favorites: the Western women who, although single — some never married, others widowed — traversed the globe and performed great acts of heroism.

There was Ella Bailey who, at eighty-eight years old, did not let a bad fall and a recent hospitalization prevent her from alighting upon her pioneering post in Tripoli, equipped with an oxygen mask, only to pass away a month after her arrival.  Martha Root, the “archetype of Bahá’í itinerant teachers,” who circled the world twice.  Keith Ransom-Kehler, twice widowed, with her endless trunks packed with couture, sludged through the mud of East Asia.  Susan Moody, who, at the age of fifty-eight, traveled alone to Iran at ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s request to provide healthcare for women, likewise starting the country’s first school for girls.  Marion Jack, sixty-five years old, moved from Canada to Bulgaria, living in a small hotel room through ill-health, freezing temperatures, and the Second World War.

These names — Ella, Keith, Marion, Susan, Martha — echoed in the memory of my formative years, and growing up, I associated those names with, “Well, I could never do what they did.”

But as I read on, what became increasingly apparent was their great heroism despite their human frailties: impatience, feelings of inadequacy, struggling to work in unity with others.  A line I read from the foreward of one of these books summed it up:

As we read about these early Baha’is, we realize that they were in many ways very much like ourselves, for they too had human weaknesses and shortcomings.  Their greatness lay in the quality of their faith in Baha’u'llah and His Message. This was the secret of their victory– despite their shortcomings.

(Gloria Faizi, Fire on the Mountain-top)

I realized any of us could be like them, and that there were a lot more of such people around me — whose lives are yet to be recorded in books — than I had imagined.

As I leave this city which I have occupied intermittently for the past five and half years, for warmer climes — leaving the comfort of plentiful friendships, organic markets, rapid public transportation, and clean sidewalks — off to an unknown destination to follow in their footsteps; in moments of fear of what may lie ahead, I remember these individuals who, ever human, were champions of justice:

Though they themselves would not live to see that day, they were prepared to sacrifice all they had if by doing so they could raise the call to unity, and prove to an unbelieving world that the wolf and the lamb could truly drink from the same stream….

(Gloria Faizi, Fire on the Mountain-top)

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To Enjoy the Spring, Passing Through the Cold of Winter

nadim January 15th, 2010

It has been an icy cold start to the new decade in England. Arctic winds have been blowing in from Scandinavia, bringing with them snow, sleet and sub-zero temperatures – and it has gone on for an unusually long stretch of time according to the locals. In spite of this, life carries on as normal for the majority of people. Barring the occasional transport delay, the slip and fall on ice (slippery wheels if you are driving), or the minor inconvenience of having to shop around for an extra heater, everything proceeds as expected.

cold

Thousands of miles to the east and to the west, the cold of tribulation is a stark reality. To the east, the sham trial behind closed doors of the seven members of the Baha’i Administrative Committee of Iran, arrested and imprisoned by the Islamic government in 2008, merely for their religious beliefs. To the west, the heart-wrenching devastation caused by the Haiti disaster and the scramble to save as many lives as possible before it becomes too late.

Although outwardly cataclysms are hard to understand and to endure, yet there lies a great wisdom behind them which appears later. All the visible material events are inter-related with invisible spiritual forces. The infinite phenomena of creation are as interdependent as the links of a chain.

When certain links become rusty, they are broken by unseen forces, to be replaced by newer and better ones. There are certain colossal events which transpire in the world of humanity which are required by the nature of the times. For example, the requirements of winter are cold, snow, hail and rain – but the birds and animals who live for six months, enjoying a short span of life, not realizing the wisdom of winter, chide and make lament and are discontent, saying, “Why this awful frost? Why this hail and storm? Why not the balmy weather? Why not the eternal springtime? Why this injustice on the part of the creator? Why this suffering? What have we done to be meted out with this catastrophe?”

However, those souls who have lived many years and have acquired much experience and have weathered many severe winters realize that in order to enjoy the coming spring they must pass through the cold of winter.

(Abdu’l-Baha : Divine Philosophy)


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The Remainder

iman November 27th, 2009

Envy is a feeling that sits in the gut that, even in small traces, could bring upon thoughts of hatred and malice.

O SON OF EARTH!

Know, verily, the heart wherein the least remnant of envy yet lingers, shall never attain My everlasting dominion, nor inhale the sweet savors of holiness breathing from My kingdom of sanctity.

Baha’u'llah : The Persian Hidden Words

Looking at a simple example of a teacher and a student.  The role of the teacher is to impart knowledge to the student.  In many cases it may be that the teacher is uncomfortable with allowing the student to surpass them.  Under this scenario progress, materially or spiritually, will be hampered.  The common adage today is “making a better world for our children” but with hints of envy subsequently grooming a culture of competition, this goal becomes more difficult to realise.  Someone mentioned a few weeks ago, “what greater joy for the teacher than to see their student surpass them”.  Progress is iterative and if we are sincere in our desire to “make a better world for our children”, we should allow ourselves to take gladness in the qualities and achievements of those around us and to use this as inspiration to strive higher.  Inspiration trumps competition.

Removing lingering hints of envy is more difficult to conquer. Perhaps a capability to try to develop is to see oneself (and the qualities one strives to possess) in the light of self-worth and, hence, as a tool of God for the benefit of society.  In this case,  not a self-aggrandizing form of  ’self-worth’, but rather one which is founded  upon meekness and humility, in the context of service.  In addition, what is needed to overcome envy is a mentality whose focus transcends the perception that happiness is achieved through the accumulation of material goods and, in particular, that which others may possess.

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Having a Laugh

nadim October 4th, 2009

I’ve had good cheer on the brain recently. An unexpected sunny spell in the UK will surely have contributed, it may also have to do with my recent posts being of a quite solemn nature! We all love those stories of the Central Figures of the Baha’i Faith, who against the grain of expectation, will suddenly infuse a situation with a touch of humour – an unexpected twist that leaves the recipient in a state of numbed delight. One might suggest, then, that humour was the ideal response to the given situation!

We all have questions about the nature of humour.  What is the ultimate form of humour? Should slapstick be banned:)? Are there universal standards of acceptable humour or is this largely bound by cultural constructs? When are we crossing the line? Is there even a line? Or is it more like a zigzag?

I don’t claim to have any answers beyond those I create for myself. As always though, we are blessed to have the Writings to help us in developing our own constructs…

Humour too, as you say, is an essential element in preserving a proper balance in this life and in our comprehension of reality.

(Shoghi Effendi)

Abandonment of “a frivolous conduct” does not imply that a Bahá’í must be sour-faced or perpetually solemn. Humour, happiness, joy are characteristics of a true Bahá’í life. Frivolity palls and eventually leads to boredom and emptiness, but true happiness and joy and humour that are parts of a balanced life that includes serious thought, compassion and humble servitude to God are characteristics that enrich life and add to its radiance.

(Shoghi Effendi)

The Universal House of Justice has requested us to acknowledge your letter of November 6, 1977 and to say that while laughter should not be suppressed or frowned upon, it should not be indulged in at the expense of the feelings of others. What one says or does in a humorous vein should not give rise to prejudice of any kind. You may recall Abdu’l-Bahá’í caution “Beware lest ye offend the feelings of anyone, or sadden the heart of any person…” (From “Tablets of Abdu’l-Bahá”, vol. I, p. 45) (1 December 1977 to an individual believer)

There is a note in Abdu’l-Bahá’s character that has not been emphasized, and with which no idea of him is complete. The impressive dignity which distinguishes his presence and bearing is occasionally lighted by a delicate and tactful humour, which is as unaffected as it is infectious and delightful.

On his last afternoon in London, a reporter called to ask him of his future plans, finding him surrounded by a number of friends who had called to bid him good-bye. When, in answer to this query, Abdu’l-Bahá told in perfect English of his intention to visit Paris and go from there to Alexandria, the press representative evinced surprise at his faultless pronunciation. Thereupon Abdu’l-Bahá proceeded to march with a free stride up and down the flower-scented drawing room, his Oriental garb contrasting strangely with his modern surroundings; and, to the amusement of the assembly, uttered a string of elaborate English words, laughingly ending, “Very difficult English words I speak!”

(Abdu’l-Bahá in London)

Bahá’í scholars, especially those who are scholars in the teachings and history of the Faith itself, would be well advised to remember that scholars have often been most wrong when they have been most certain that they were right. The virtues of moderation, humility and humour in regard to one’s own work and ideas are a potent protection against this danger.

(Bahá’í Scholarship Statements from the World Centre)

Shoghi Effendi, like his grandfather and great-grandfather before him, had a delightful sense of humour which was ready to manifest itself if he were given any chance to be happy or enjoy a little peace of mind. His eyes would fairly dance with amusement, he would chuckle delightedly and sometimes break out into open laughter. Inside his family, with those he was familiar with, he liked to tease.

(Ruhiyyih Khanum : The Guardian of the Baha’i Faith)

Finally, enjoy this comic from some talented friends of mine!

infantimmunity

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A poem by Táhirih

negin September 27th, 2009

I would like to share a poem, revolutionary in style as well as content, by the mid-19th century poetess Táhirih:

“Look up! Our dawning day draws its first breath!
The world grows light! Our souls begin to glow!

No ranting shaykh rules from his pulpit throne
No mosque hawks holiness it does not know

No sham, no pious fraud, no priest commands!
The turban’s knot cut to its root below!

No more conjurations! No spells! No ghosts!
Good riddance! We are done with folly’s show!

The search for Truth shall drive out ignorance
Equality shall strike the despots low

Let warring ways be banished from the world
Let Justice everywhere its carpet throw

May friendship ancient hatreds reconcile
May love grow from the seed of love we sow!”

~ Táhirih (1817-1852)
Translation: Jascha Kessler

tahirihIn this poem, the poetess, theologian and heroine Táhirih, living in Persia in the mid-19th century, portrays a world where love and friendship overcome hatred and injustice.

Living herself in a society permeated by corruption, religious fanaticism and discrimination against women, she rises above her environs and unveils a revolutionary vision of a world order, far different from the one that she found herself in.

Being revolutionary is the least you could say about Táhirih and her destiny. As one of the foremost women in Baha’i history, she dedicated her life to her newly-found Faith and its principles concerning the emancipation of women – a cause for which she eventually gave her life. I invite everyone to learn more about the story of her life.

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In a Fragmented City, Happiness: The Excellent Qualities With Which We Have Been Endowed (Part I)

leila September 23rd, 2009

 

Wakili McNeill from Malcolm X Drummers and Dancers group at the 31st Adams Morgan Day Festival

Wakili McNeill from Malcolm X Drummers and Dancers group at the 31st Adams Morgan Day Festival. (Photo Credit: Barbara Krawcowicz)

Maybe it was the graying of the skies, summer impatient to morph into fall.  A lively street festival, Adams Morgan Day, had descended upon my neighborhood on a sunny Sunday in early September– the air thick with smoke from grills sizzling with Jamaican jerk chicken, throbbing with the sound of drums from a Ghanaian dance troupe, as thick crowds of young and old and black and brown and white weaved through stalls selling scarves and jewels, and where local artists displayed their work.  The last day of summer hadn’t yet arrived, but the next morning, shuffling past sleepy cafes on the two-mile trek to work, it wasn’t raining but somehow the air felt damp, and clouds quilted the sky, making all gray and quiet.

My neighborhood is colorful and diverse in every sense, an eyeful and a story on every corner of every block.  But the part of town in which I work lacks some soul, a claustrophobic cacophony of steel and glass.  Men in black suits and ties lunch over terms like How Do We Get Our Work Onto the Agenda, and women practical heels punch at a Blackberry in right hand, cigarette in left.  Exit the polite double doors of any given office building, and one is welcomed by blaring of taxis honking, the whooshing of FedEx trucks and words, words, words about work in a language that I used to try to understand, but now seems so foreign.  There is a certain worldly power associated with this part of town– the World Bank, the IMF, the White House, the many lobbying firms and think-tanks that crowd the few blocks of downtown Washington, D.C.  And yet, I see so many blank stares, pinched faces, stressed countenances.  And many times I’ve thought: So many of them don’t seem happy.

***

I’m on a housing hunt these days.  I was barely a week back home from a trip when my roommate informed me that she was moving to a different part of town, giving me thirty days to scramble to find a place to live.  So my evenings have been packed with open houses, putting on a smile and nodding through chore expectations, and the obligatory small talk that characterizes the interview process.  And while I’d throw myself, exhausted, onto the couch in my half-empty apartment at night, I reflected on what I’d seen in the city.  The hunt took me to all corners, and while the rent was the same, the neighborhoods varied.  Rowhouses on quaint, tree-lined streets in quiet neighborhoods morphed into what some called the “rough” part of town, a fact which I conveniently hid from my parents.  My heart raced a little faster as I raced through these streets, and I wondered why the city was so fragmented.

One such neighborhood where my housing hunt has taken is the one in which I teach a children’s class.  On Saturday afternoons, with my co-teachers, we wave to neighbors as we collect the children, some of whom last week were dragging themselves to class.  I stopped by on a Wednesday evening, after looking at several homes in the children’s neighborhood.  And while I was already late for a class, I couldn’t help but linger on their street, where some of my students were teasing each other on front stoops, and scampering about the playground.  I was greeted with hugs and squeezes and laughter, as the obligatory drunken loiterers lounging in the playground muttered incoherently.  It isn’t an easy neighborhood, one where the children see and experience things that I hadn’t at their age.  And sometimes I see the struggles of immigrant families, of double-unbelonging, of making ends meet, and of the materialism so prevalent in American society pressing its finger upon their new lives in this country.  But despite the rough edges that characterize the neighborhood, I left that evening, prying the children’s arms from my waist and blowing kisses as I said goodbye, with a joy surging in my heart that I hadn’t felt for weeks.

***

And all of this — the stress of moving, the juxtaposition of materially poor and rich, and moving seamlessly between worlds seemingly apart– has made me think about happiness, a topic that has been covered in this space before.  As I mulled over this topic, I remembered a quotation by ‘Abdu’l-Baha that I’d read in The Secret of Divine Civilization:

…human happiness consists only in drawing closer to the Threshold of Almighty God, and in securing the peace and well-being of every individual member, high and low alike, of the human race; and the supreme agencies for accomplishing these two objectives are the excellent qualities with which humanity has been endowed.

(‘Abdu’l-Baha, Secret of Divine Civilization, page 60)

***

To be continued in Part II.

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Show Me the Right Way to Go

iman July 18th, 2009

tick

An excerpt from something I have been reading:

“He remembers his mother telling him doing the right thing will always make him happy.”

Will doing the right thing always make us happy? When we do good, or what we deem to be the right thing, is it done selflessly or is it merely an ego “happiness” boost? We know that merely imitating prevalent societal norms will never lead us to the spiritual heights we aspire to reach, so it becomes necessary to be better informed, educated and spiritually discerning  when making decisions.  Key to this decision-making process is the element of selflessness.  This may be contrary to present ideals where benefit-to-self is highly emphasised. With personal interest always lingering in our thoughts, doing the “right thing” is often most difficult as we grapple with “disconnection” from self in making decisions based on impartiality and using the laws of God as our benchmark:

The second attribute of perfection is justice and impartiality. This means to have no regard for one’s own personal benefits and selfish advantages, and to carry out the laws of God without the slightest concern for anything else. It means to see one’s self as only one of the servants of God, the All-Possessing, and except for aspiring to spiritual distinction, never attempting to be singled out from the others. It means to consider the welfare of the community as one’s own.

Abdu’l-Baha : The Secret of Divine Civilization




What are some of your own reflections on this theme? Your comments are welcome.

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