A Look at the Ridvan 2024 Message

Before reading this post, I would suggest that you read the 2024 Ridvan Message from the Universal House of Justice, found here. I mean, I'm sure you have by now, otherwise why would you be here, looking at this post?

Also, this is not one of those "study guides", with emphasis on the quotation marks, that just asks questions ensuring you know how to read. After all, you wouldn't be here, on-line, searching study guides for this message if you weren't fairly literate. So, no, I don't have any of those "answer with a line from the text" type of questions. Sorry, if that's what you were hoping for.

No, this is a more of a "how does this message directly apply to your life, not the life of your cousin-in-law's brother's boss's niece's life, but yours" type of look. Of course, mostly what you'll really get is my own thoughts, which are nothing official, but it never hurts to remind people of that.

Might as well dive straight into it, then, now that the disclaimers have been disclaimed, and you've already read the message itself a few times, probably with friends and family.

Oh, and before we begin, let's number the paragraphs for ease of reference. There are..... 8 of them. That was the math section of this study. Congratulations. You passed.

 

 * * *

So, paragraph 1:

"Two years... have sped by." - I love this reminder of how quickly time passes, and just how urgent the need is for the work we are doing. But there's also that adjective, "formidable", which I didn't quote, since you have the message in front of you, and if I quote every single piece of it, it'll just take too long and take up too much space, so I may as well trust that you can follow along.

Where was I? Oh yes, "formidable". Time is rushing. We cannot deny, nor ignore, the urgency of the work we are doing, but it ain't easy. (My English teachers are probably rolling over in their collective graves, but I'm a believer in the living mutability of language, and besides, you know what I mean, so communication has occurred, which means the language has served its purpose.) What we are doing is extremely impressive, and demonstrative of great strength, but there is also the fear aspect of the word. We'll get to that in a bit, though. Let's move on.

We have "taken" the "objectives" of this plan "firmly to heart". That's a good thing, isn't it? But what are the objectives of this plan? Can we state them, simply and succinctly? (Pause and answer for yourself, please.)

(Got it? Ok. Let's check our answers.)

First, note that the objectives are plural, not singular.

If you're like me, you may have answered from the 30 December 2021 message which states that, for the next 25 years, we will be "focused on a single aim: the release of the society-building power of the Faith in ever-greater measures." That's our aim. Singular.

But you're probably a sharper tack than I am, and are far more familiar with the objectives than I am. The aim provides the long-term, overall direction, while the objectives are our short-term, more easily obtainable goals. They're like the steps on the path. Oh, and they're measurable. That's important. We can measure them. They will also differ from community to community, from cluster to cluster. So you really can answer the question far better than I can. I'm brand new to my community, only here a few months, and I don't speak the language yet.

All this to say that I am sure you know the objectives in your community, those goals that we are striving for over the next few cycles of activity, because, after all, we have an "increased depth of understanding". We have been doing this long enough that we can see the importance of the core activities, we know them by heart, and we have a better understanding of how they actually work in our own neighbourhood.

Finally, there is the other end of the spectrum, those last two sentences in that first paragraph. And this is where I believe in the importance of making this personal. How are these divisions and tensions in the world affecting your community? How is the desperate plight of the planet impacting the children and youth, not to mention adults, in your neighbourhood?

If you're like me, the war in Ukraine is not in your backyard. The abuses and violence between Israel and Palastine are not in your community. The rising sea levels are not hitting the foundations of your home. Of course, you and your neighbours may be experiencing trauma from the housing crisis, or the effects of global warming through more dramatic weather events. I don't know.

But it is a question we need to ask ourselves, and talk about in our communities.

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Paragraph 2 -

The answer to that last question "demands from every conscientious soul a response." After all, these trials affect us all.

But this is where it gets interesting to me: It doesn't say what kind of response.

You see, dear Reader, we are all responding to the events of the world. Many are responding with anger, or confusion, or despair, or any number of other valid responses. The question, though, is which responses will help alleviate the sufferings, and which will make them worse? Choosing a side in an ideological battle when both sides are clearly wrong does not help us at all. It merely increases the divisions.

Like a few friends of mine, you may wonder why the House of Justice says we are "not confused by" these travails. After all, maybe you do feel confused. I don't know. But I know that there is a lot of confusion out there. The difference, though, is that Shoghi Effendi, not to mention 'Abdu'l-Baha and even Baha'u'llah Himself, clearly outlined what was going to happen, and why. Just review books like The World Order of Baha'u'llah and you will see. We may not have known exactly which crises would hit us, nor how, but we knew they were coming. And we can easily see why all these catastrophes are hitting us. It's not mystery. And even though we can see the causes and effects of, say, gun violence in the US, it doesn't paralyze us: It saddens us. And it this sadness that prompts us to action. We strive to offer "hope in place of despair, unity in place of conflict."

And all of this leads us to some more very real questions:

Where can we find hope in the despair around us? What points of unity can we highlight in the conflicts that surround us?

Our responses to that last question in the first section directly impact our answers here.

Honestly, if you can't answer these questions yourself, or in your community, post them in the comments. You are probably not alone in this. And we can all work together to share our experiences and insights. Find those on-line communities that are talking about these issues in constructive ways and ask your questions there, too. These questions are just starting points for action, and find clarity in the next paragraph.

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Paragraph 3 -

First, note the references to Shoghi Effendi's vision of integration and disintegration. We must be very familiar with it, and fluent in talking about it, if we want to truly impart hope to others. I rarely speak this categorically, but feel it's important to do so here. His vision of these twin processes really is that important.

Also note how they use the phrase "true practitioners of peace". I've been to many so-called peace rallies which were actually rallies fighting against war, or some other injustice. These rallies do not help spread peace in the world, for that is not their stance, nor at their heart. The organizers are usually angry about something and want to get others angry, too. They feel that this is the best way to make a difference. And while they may be helping increase those necessary forces of disintegration, we are more concerned with the process of integration. That is, and will be, more long-lasting.

Then they give us a list of ways in which this integrative process happens. It is not exhaustive, but it is comprehensive. It begins with a single "heart being enkindled with the love of God", and moves to an entire "family opening up its home". It grows from there to a group of collaborators addressing a social problem, which blossoms to "a community strengthening a culture of mutual support". This further grows and expands into the neighbourhood, or even the whole village learning to nurture their "own spiritual and material progress", and culminates in the "emergence of a new Spiritual Assembly".

But, of course, we know that this isn't the end. It is just the beginning. For every community with an Assembly is working towards the further development of this exact process.

It all begins, though, with hope and unity. After looking at the nuances in this paragraph, the source of hope is much more easily and clearly discernible.

And again, remember that first sentence? The fact that this endeavour is formidable implies that we are actually doing it. Through the increased fear and despair that is surrounding us, we are making tangible, real strides.

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Paragraph 4 -

It is truly worth noting that this Plan allows "every soul to contribute a share of what humanity needs in this day." Unlike the Funds, or service on Baha'i institutions, it does not require us to be Baha'i. Everyone can contribute. Even that grumpy neighbour down the street. Even the gay couple a few doors down. Even the atheist and the fundamentalist. Every soul means every soul.

But although the Plan allows for everyone to contribute, that doesn't mean everyone will want to. That's ok. Remember, this Plan will last another 7 years, and is part of a series of Plans that will last another 23, all of which is part of a greater endeavour that will take generations. Not everyone will want to wait that long. Many want to see an immediate solution to an immediate problem, a "temporary salve" for a temporary problem. This, too, is needed. But it's far easier to get people to work on these things than it is to convince them to work on the greater issues. So we are working on the more important, longer lasting things.

* * *

Paragraph 5 - 

Here we have a series of questions that are worth answering. Although they may be written as rhetorical questions, we can look at them in a deeper way. For example, the first one can be answered by asking "How can Baha'u'llah's principle of the oneness of humankind help unite these specific diverse elements?" Or we may ask "What is this new way of life that leads to enduring peace? And how can we help people discover it?" The answer lies in that last sentence. Extend the hand of friendship to everyone. Yes, everyone. Even that grumpy neighbour down the street, and that gay couple a few doors down, and the atheist and the fundamentalist, and everyone else. Find a common endeavour on which you can work, one that has real significance in your community. Work with them, serve together, learn together, and advance together.

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Paragraph 6 - 

And then there are the youth.

Nothing of significance can occur without the youth, for they are the ones that are picking up the torch and carrying it forward.

To do this more effectively, the House of Justice reminds us of the importance of "kindliness, courage, and complete reliance on God". Oh, and they don't have to do it alone. They need to reach out to their peers and get their help, too.

In fact, when I read this to a few people this morning, when we talked briefly about service in the previous paragraph, my wife said that she wanted to go to a friend's farm to help her family out this summer. That was when I suggested that we talk to some of the youth groups here and see if we can make it a weekend event, camping out and all. This led to a great discussion about the feasibility of it, and actual plans to contact the youth, the institutions of the Faith in the area, and the family. Since the daughter-in-law was here in this discussion, she chose the latter task, while I volunteered to do the former. Study leading to discussion leading to action. And then the very next paragraph: the youth.

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Paragraphs 7 and 8 - 

While I could go into a lot of thought about paragraph 7, I will just encourage you to read it again. Immerse yourself in the hope it conveys, the joy it offers, and the beauty it imparts. Look at how the vision it offers builds from sentence to sentence, and the phrases they use to describe each step.

And paragraph 8? Well, let me conclude this little article by saying that it reminded me strongly of a talk from 'Abdu'l-Baha, one He gave in New York on 16 November 1912. In it, He begins by mentioning the ordeals and calamities, bringing to mind the opening of this very letter. And then He finishes with a vision of hope, and grand endeavour. I'll leave you with it here, and see you next time.

 

The Blessed Perfection 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.

 It is my hope that you all may become the product of the life of Bahá’u’lláh and the outcomes of His heavenly training. When the people ask you, “What has Bahá’u’lláh accomplished?” say to them, “He has created these; He has trained us.”

It's All One

A friend and I were talking the other day, and this is the sort of friend that teaches me a lot. Almost every time we speak we talk about the Writings, and he is so knowledgeable about them, has such a different perspective than I do. It's wonderful.

That day, though, I was reminded of a very important truth: What seems obvious to you is a wonder to someone else.

"I like the simple way the Iqan explains progressive revelation", he said to me, "but I really prefer the Seven Valleys."

There was something about the conversation that really made me want to go deeper, but I realized that we first needed to establish that the Writings are actually, and fundamentally, one body of work. And with the Kitab-i-Iqan, I am always surprised at how people think of it as being about "progressive revelation". To me, it is so much more. It is essentially how we can recognize a Messenger of God.

But back to my response.

First, I agreed. I agreed with him that it was, in a sense, a simple argument. But simple just means "few steps", and the arguments Baha'u'llah uses in the Kitab-i-Iqan are not all that numerous. So, yeah, it's simple, but profound.

Then I mentioned how I loved the statement from the Guardian about the Iqan, where he said that if we wanted to become effective teachers of the Cause, and please note that I am not quoting here but referring to my own memory of the quote, we needed to understand the methods and arguments Baha'u'llah uses in the Iqan. "So the arguments we essentially understand," I pointed out, "but what about His methods? What methods does He use to help the uncle of the Bab draw closer to becoming a sincere believer? That, to me, is the genius of this great Text."

He seemed intrigued by this, so I continued.

"I also find it interesting that the Seven Valleys does the same thing as the Iqan. It's essentially the same message, but for a different audience. The Iqan, to me, addresses the head more, while the Seven Valleys is speaking more to the heart. Of course, Gems of Divine Mysteries does the same thing, too, but sort of in the middle."

From his reaction, I guess he hadn't thought to include Gems in there.

"Yeah, and then there's the Four Valleys", he began.

"Oh, the Four Valleys, I love that one."

"I don't really get it, so I just stick to the Seven Valleys."

"The Four Valleys is a different beast altogether. It essentially tells us that there are four ways to approach truth, and how to recognize which approach is best for a particular individual."

He was definitely intrigued by this.

"And interestingly enough, the Iqan hits one type, the Seven Valleys another, and Gems the third." Yeah, I know there's a fourth, but it doesn't really apply here.

As soon as I said that I could see that he saw exactly what I meant. And I could just watch as some of the pieces of this beautiful puzzle started to fall into place.

"Ok," he acceded, "but how is the Iqan like the Seven Valleys?"

"Great question. And one of my favorite questions to ask the friends is why they think the Iqan is in two parts."

I could just see the mental whiplash hit.

"Because it was written over two days?"

"Maybe. I mean I don't really know, but it seems to me that Part One helps firm up the uncle's belief in Muhammad, so that he would have recognized Him in His own lifetime. From there, He quickly turns this proof to the Bab, and at the end of Part One the uncle is essentially a Babi. Now, if I were to attempt to write such a book, which I could never do, I would have stopped there, but Baha'u'llah adds one last paragraph. He basically says 'Now you're a Babi. So what? What are you going to do about it?' And that leads us to Part Two, which is what to do about it."

"Ok." He still wasn't convinced that it was the same message in a different format.

"So Part One begins with Search, leads us into Love, and then gives us concrete Knowledge. By the end of Part One we have learned to apply Unity to all the Messengers of God. Part Two continues with the other valleys from there."

It's kind of fun watching a little mental bomb go off in someone's mind. It seemed to clear away some of the dust and allowed him to get a far broader view of these texts and, more importantly, their interconnectedness. All of a sudden, I could see from his changing expression, he saw how these books offered the same beautiful message in different ways.

But if there is anything I learned from Baha'u'llah's methodology in the Iqan, it's to take that one extra little step beyond. But just the one. Allow time for these ideas to develop. Allow the time for processing. So there was one more little bit to add.

"What really gets me, though, is the Kitab-i-Aqdas."

"How does that fit in here?"

"The first paragraph. Recognition and Obedience. Parts One and Two of the Iqan. Part One is recognition. Part Two is obedience."

That was when I saw his breath leave him in a gasp.

There was nothing all that new that I offered here. It was just timely. He had never considered the Writings in that particular way before. He knew so much on so many levels about the Writings, but somehow had gotten complacent with the Iqan. All I did was help him fit it back into his overall study of the Faith. I truly cannot wait to talk with him again and see what treasures he has found, for I know him, and he really is quite knowledgeable about the Faith. This one little piece will surely help him uncover far more treasures in the ocean of the Writings. And I am certain that he will point out things to me that I never would have considered before.

It really is important to remember that what may seem obvious to us is a wonder to someone else.

The Blessing of God

When I was a child, I listened to the stories of the Tanakh, the Old Testament. As I listened, I had an image that always came to mind: I saw the blessing of God like a glowing ball.

That's it.

It was like a glowing ball in my mind, passed from one generation to the next.

As I listened to the story of Abraham, this ball had been given to Him, and He cared for it. Sometimes, though, it was difficult to keep this precious object. One mis-step and you could accidentally lose it, as the Jewish people did time and time again throughout he stories.

But back to Abraham. He had this great gift, and was told to sacrifice His son. As the story goes, He was stopped by the angel and told to sacrifice a ram, instead. Ok. No problem. I'm not going to get into the details of that particular story, nor my own reaction to it.

But then this precious gift, this blessing of God, was passed to His son, Isaac. At least, in the Tanakh it was, so that's what we'll go with here, since that's the version I heard as a child.

Anyways, Abraham got older, Isaac married Rebekah, and then Abraham left everything to Isaac. Presumably, the blessing of God was included in this. At least, it was in my mind.

Why? Because in the very next part of the story, Isaac passed on this blessing to Jacob. Of course, he intended to give it to Esau, but Rebekah knew that it should really go to Jacob.

Long story short, Jacob got the blessing of God, and although difficult, things went very well for him.

Finally, he passed the blessing on to his favourite son, Joseph.

This is where it got interesting to me. In every story up to this point, once the blessing was passed on we heard nothing more of the previous generation. Except here, in this story.

After the blessing was given by Jacob to Joseph, this favourite son was lost, presumed killed. Jacob's health began to fail. Famine hit the land. Everything seemed to do downhill.

For Joseph, on the other hand, everything went well. Ok, maybe not at first, but we can see the Hand of God at play here if we look. The story focuses on Joseph, but we still hear about his family. We hear about the famine. We know that things were difficult for them, so difficult that they had to seek out Joseph's favour, even though they didn't know it at the time. We, the audience, get a rare glimpse of what happens after the blessing of God passes on. We see it from both sides, the benefits that accrue to Joseph, and the trials faced by his family.

But I want to go back to Jacob for a moment.

I have to wonder what it must have been like for him. As I said, we get a rare glimpse of life after God has left us. He must have been used to having God very present in his life. And now, after this blessing passed to Joseph, things go horribly wrong. He has to search elsewhere for salvation. Whereas previously salvation was with him, easily within his reach, it was now beyond him. He had to go somewhere new, somewhere different, to a "foreign land": Egypt.

Only by recognizing that the blessing had left, and turning his attention elsewhere, could he find it again.

When I was growing up and going to all sorts of different communities, hopping churches as others hopped bars, I saw the beauty of the teachings of Jesus, but could see so clearly that the blessing of God did not reside within the churches I was visiting. They may have spoken of love and compassion, but I did not see it in their hearts. I saw condemnation for anyone that believed differently than they did. "We're right", they seemed to say, "and everyone else is going to hell."

I knew that this attitude was not of Jesus, could not be of God.

The concept that someone could lead a virtuous life, be compassionate to those around them, and help all who crossed their path, and yet still be condemned just because they happened to be born in place where Christianity was not the religion du jour, was just alien to me. It was an idea that did not speak of a loving and compassionate God. It did not speak of a God that was for the entire planet.

And so I long wondered where I would find a community that showed this love, this compassion; a community that demonstrated by their actions and effects that they were not only living the Law of God, but also blessed by Him.

There is a recent story of a group of people somewhere in the Middle East who read in the Quran that the people of Muhammad would always be blessed. When they looked around, all they saw were problems. When they compared what they read in the sacred Book with what they were witnessing in their own community, they began to recognize that somewhere along the way the blessing of God had left them. They knew that they needed to search somewhere else. It was then that they found the Kitab-i-Aqdas, and recognized that the supreme blessing now resided with Baha'u'llah and the Baha'i community. It had moved on and landed somewhere they were not expecting, a "foreign land": Persia.

Today, it seems so clear to me that this great blessing, this glowing orb of my childhood vision, not only resided with Baha'u'llah, but was also passed on to 'Abdu'l-Baha. When I see those around Him who tried to cause a schism, and both the effects they had as well as the fate they suffered, it is perfectly clear to me that this blessing was gifted to 'Abdu'l-Baha.

From Him, it obviously passed on to Shoghi Effendi, and then to the Universal House of Justice. This is so clear to me upon reading the history, and comparing it to the stories of the Tanakh that I read growing up. Baha'ullah says, in the Book of Certitude, "Consider the past..." By looking at the past, comparing the present to what I already know to be true from my own religious background, there is no question for me.

And this is also what I challenge so many of my friends to do. Read the stories of the Bible, the New Testament, if you will, and see if the church to which they belong lives up to that example. Are they being taught love or judgement? Compassion or just plain old passion?

From there, quite a few have given up on religion, deciding that if the church in which they grew was not living up to that high standard, then all religions must be a lie. But that doesn't seem reasonable to me. That's the old "throwing away the baby with the bathwater" problem.

To be fair, some decided that, yes, their church was living up to that standard, and for that I praise them.

And some, just some few, decided to look into a "foreign land". Some became Buddhist, finding peace and tranquility for themselves within those divine teachings. Others began to follow their more traditional spiritual teachings, returning to the ancient teachings of their own people, trying to discover a path to the future in the past.

But some expanded their horizons, and looked for something that would not only benefit them, but bring the world to their heart. They looked to expand their sense of community to all around them, not just those that looked like them or hailed from the same small area that their ancestors did, but to all who walk this earth. They decided that they wanted to be of service to all the world.

“Let your vision be world-embracing," were words that resonated within their very souls, "rather than confined to your own self.” They know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that "the object of every Revelation (is) to effect a transformation in the whole character of mankind, a transformation that shall manifest itself, both outwardly and inwardly, that shall affect both its inner life and external conditions". And that is why these people became members of the Baha'i community.

Questions

My most recent article, the one the Virgin Birth,  raised an interesting point in my mind, at least the responses to it did. A number of people were not satisfied with the ambiguity. They wanted a definite answer, a yes or a no. A few people even went so far as to insist that their particular interpretation was the "correct" one, whether it was that it actually happened the way they said, or that it was a mis-interpretation of a particular word, or a metaphor, or whatever particular creed they believed. For many people, and it didn't seem to matter whether they believed in it or not; they just wanted a clear-cut answer.

Well, sorry to disappoint, but I don't think life works that way. I certainly don't think that religion works that way. Of course, there are some areas in which definitives are useful, but not here. I don't think a healthy religion is about the answers. I think it's about the questions. After all, we tend to learn a lot more by asking questions than we do from getting answers.

It seems to me that many of Baha'u'llah's writings are about helping people re-phrase their questions. For example, if we look at the Kitab-i-Iqan, some of the questions the uncle of the Bab asked can be summed up as asking why the Bab didn't fulfill the prophecies. Well, the question is based on a false premise. And this is what Baha'u'llah, in a sense, points out. He shows, in the first half of the book at least, that the Bab fulfilled the promises in the same manner as all the previous Messengers did. However, by asking the question the way he did, the uncle presupposed a negative. "Why didn't He?" Simply put, He did. As we learn to re-phrase the question "How did He...", then the answer becomes self-evident.

When we spend our time arguing over pointless questions, such as the infamous "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin", Baha'u'llah reminds us to exert ourselves in more productive endeavours. "Be anxiously concerned with the needs of the age ye live in..." Of course, to be fair, the head of a pin does have a point, but that's beside the... point.

All this to say, it seems to me that learning to ask more meaningful questions is of greater importance than having an answer to a poorly worded one.

Aside - I was meditating on this issue the other day, struggling to put an order to my thoughts. Then, out of the blue, that wily member of the Concourse on High responsible for so many thoughts shared on this blog dropped a seemingly random thought in my head. I was suddenly reminded of the story of Jacob wrestling the angel.

Aside within the aside - A number of years ago I was invited to have lunch with the minister of a local church. As we went into the back room of the church to eat, he was visibly embarrassed at the table settings. They were all paper plates and napkins with the "WWF" logo. The World Wrestling Federation, complete with a violent image and all. Oh, was he embarrassed by this. I reassured him that it was ok. "After all", I said, "it is the only sport found in the Bible." It was because of this oblique reference to the story of Jacob that I was phoned a week later and asked to give a sermon. As you, dear Reader, know, this led to a monthly gig that lasted a few years, and even helped me meet my wife. So, yay for wrestling?

And now back to our regularly scheduled aside - Where was I? Oh yes, Jacob. So there he is, alone at night, with his thoughts. Suddenly, according to the story, he finds himself wrestling this angel. Of course, the angel is unable to beat him, so he wrenches Jacob's hip out of joint. Jacob still refuses to let go, and asks for the angel's blessing. To me, this is like our struggle with truth. It's not easy, and is often quite painful. But it is only through the struggle that we come to get truth's blessing.

No, I don't think religion is about the answers, for when we think we have the "answers" we stop looking, and the truth really is like an ocean. We can keep diving, over and over, and never come close to fathoming its depths. If we are satisfied with the first answer we get, we should not be content. We should keep looking for more answers.

While we are encouraged to seek our answers from God, and to not blindly imitate others, sometimes God gives us our guidance through others. It is this continual search that keeps us humble, and keeps us seeking guidance. And as we find the truths that are evident to others, we get a better and broader perspective of the world around us. This is why I continually talk to people who are not Baha'i about the Writings, not because I think I have anything to teach, but because I have so much to learn.

In the end, Baha'u'llah has told us to "be free to ask what you need to ask, but not such idle questions as those on which the men of former times were wont to dwell." And so I will continue to ask, and hope that the questions I ask may become better and better.

The Virgin Birth

“How would you try to convince an agnostic about the truth of the Virgin Birth?”

My initial response was “Why would I want to?” In fact, I responded with that famous quote from Baha’u’llah, “Be anxiously concerned with the needs and exigencies of the age in which ye live.” Whenever I am asked to dwell on these abstract issues of faith, the issues that are really a matter of personal belief, I am reminded of that quote. It was initially written in response to a number of such questions, and when the person lovingly said that his questions were not answered, Baha’u’llah pointed out that this statement was His answer. If you read the second letter in The Tabernacle of Unity you will see what I mean.

But it’s a serious question, the one about “Why would I want to?” After all, when we spend so much time and energy on an issue, we really need to ask ourselves why. I’ve thought about this quite a bit in the past few days, as the one who asked me wrote back trying to get a more solid answer about parthenogenesis, the nature of miracles, and so forth.

Then, last night, I did what I usually do when faced with such questions. I asked my son for his input.

Here, I am going to attempt to capture some of the salient thoughts we shared back and forth. And you, dear Reader, have had the bounty of seeing his responses grow and develop over the years, so you already know how insightful his answers can be.

To start, let’s look at the initial question itself, that of the Virgin Birth. Baha’u’llah says that it is true, so there is that. But if one does not accept Baha’u’llah’s word as truth, so what? What good does that do? It’s in the Bible, the Qur’an, and the Baha’i Writings, but they don’t take any of those as fact, so we cannot fall back on that argument.

How about science, then? Parthenogenesis is a thing. It happens in nature. We have seen it in insects, birds, and even in mice. So we know it is possible.

Ok, but so what? It’s scientifically possible, but not re-creatable, and certainly not provable in the past.

The real question here is what difference does it make in our life today. Some have said it is the foundation of their belief in Jesus. Ok, but I would argue that this puts one’s faith on a shaky foundation. After all, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha said so well, “miracles cannot be a conclusive proof, for even if they are valid proofs for those who were present, they fail to convince those who were not.”

Beyond this, Baha’u’llah Himself said, in Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, “We entreat Our loved ones not to... allow references to what they have regarded as miracles and prodigies to debase Our rank and station, or to mar the purity and sanctity of Our name.” To me, this implies that our focus should not be on what we think of as miracles, but rather on the teachings, for these are what will bring about a new world and a new civilization. It is the teachings of Jesus that transformed the world, not His lineage. By shifting the focus to the miracles, we often forget the teachings.

Another question that it raises, as implied by the initial quote from Baha’u’llah about needs and exigencies, is does it change how we treat our neighbour? Does our belief, or lack thereof, in the Virgin Birth, or any other miracle, affect our treatment of others? Does it somehow affect the society-building power of the Faith? If so, please tell me how, because I don’t see it.

Moreso, does someone else’s belief, or lack, affect how you treat them? Does their stance on that point somehow alter the way the Faith goes about building this new civilization?

When I was reading the Kitab-i-Iqan, that seminal work of Baha’u’llah’s in which He carries the Uncle of the Bab from not recognizing his Nephew to being a confirmed believer, there was a simple quote early in the book that caught my attention. In the course of His argument, Baha’u’llah is briefly talking about the Messengers of God the Uncle already recognizes. He refers to them in a simple manner and quietly shows what they all have in common. For example, when He refers to Noah, He never mentions the Flood. He talks of Noah’s sufferings, instead, for that is what is common between them all. But then, in middle of that paragraph, He says, “Finally, as stated in books and traditions, there remained with Him only forty or seventy-two of His followers.” “Forty or seventy-two”? Why doesn’t He state which one it was? Surely He knew, right? But then, as I asked myself these questions, I realized that it doesn’t matter. It literally makes no difference whatsoever. But some people firmly believe one, and some firmly believe the other, depending on their “books and traditions”. If He stated one or the other as correct, He’d be putting a barrier between the others and His truth. Baha’u’llah very simply sidesteps the whole issue by acknowledging that both are “stated in books and traditions”.

The more I consider this simple evasion of a potentially contentious issue, the more wisdom I see in it.

The number of Noah’s followers is so completely irrelevant to anything today that we should not waste any time even considering it. Your belief of one of those numbers over another has no effect whatsoever on my relationship with you, or at least it shouldn’t. And if it does, why? If we believe differently on this point, does it mean that either of us is less compassionate? Does it mean that either of us is any less worthy of respect? Could it possibly mean that the prayers of either of us are any less important than that of anyone else on the face of this planet?

To me, this is how I see the issue of the Virgin Birth. I do not think I have ever said to anyone, my wife included, whether or not I believe this particular point. I have repeated what I have read in the Bible. I have pointed out to others what Baha’u’llah and ‘Abdu’l-Baha say about it. But I don’t think I have ever conclusively told anyone “This is what I believe about it”, for I think it is a personal issue and has no bearing at all on anything else.

Now, given all that, why on earth would I want to even consider trying to convince anyone else one way or another? Their belief in it is their own, and I will accept it as is. If it helps them appreciate Jesus more, great. Now let’s focus on His teachings.

One last point to consider.

If I found a bit of gold in an area, I would continue to look around for some more. The best place to find gold is in a gold mine. But if someone said someplace was a gold mine, and I found no gold there, I would question it.

Modern society has done a lot to demonstrate the complete irrelevance of religion. So much of what passes for religion has no bearing on our daily life, like the issue of the Virgin Birth. It has gotten to the point where the countless arguments about religion have become a source of ridicule. “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”

We have successfully managed to forget that these ancient Books have taught so many such great wisdom and morality throughout the ages. These ridiculous arguments have overshadowed all else that many are convinced that there is no gold in these mines, so to speak.

My job, I believe, is to remind people of the great learning to be found in these texts. And I’ll tell you, pointing to these irrelevancies defeats that purpose.

Rather than trying to convince someone of some obscure point of theology, an interpretation of a single word in the sacred books, a point that in my mind falls squarely under the category of “beginning with words and ending with words”, I would far rather direct their attention to the countless gems of wisdom that lie within the Writings. I would prefer to spend my time talking with them about the issues that will help build a new and more vibrant civilization. It is of far greater importance to me to explore the teachings about human behaviour and the needs of society.

By directing their attention to the powerful teachings of the Faith that can impact the direction of our society, perhaps they will help me uncover aspects of the teachings I had never seen. And maybe, just maybe, we will both come to appreciate the Writings a bit more.

A Matter of Perspective

"But what about Heaven and Hell?"

The question was was a good one. Most of us, when we hear people talk of heaven and hell, think of places. Heaven we may see as a delightful place amongst the clouds, while hell would be a fiery pit of torture beneath the ground. Some may think of heaven as a beautiful field with brightly coloured flowers, animals playing and perhaps a sweet water river flowing gently throughout. Hell would be a desolate desert with people dying of thirst and vultures flying overhead. Many think of heaven peopled with winged angels, adorned with halos and harps. Hell would be filled with devilish red demons with tails, pitchforks, and maybe a banjo. Well, maybe not a banjo, but I think it's a distinct possibility.

For most of us, the imagery we have of heaven and hell is often inspired by popular culture handed down from Medieval Christianity, built from concepts dating back to earlier days of desert tribes, filtered through European Renaissance paintings, and on and on. This vision of both heaven and hell as two distinct and dichotomous places influences so much in our society, whether or not we are consciously aware of it. The very concept of salvation versus damnation has set the stage for our "right and wrong" way of viewing things.

The Baha'i Writings, on the other hand, are not as clear cut. First, neither are viewed as a place. They are seen more as a matter of perspective. "But the paradise and hell of existence", says 'Abdu'l-Baha, "are found in all the worlds of God, whether in this world or in the spiritual heavenly worlds." Shoghi Effendi more simply states "Heaven and hell are conditions within our own beings."

What are we to make of this? How can two such extremes be merely a matter of our own perspective? And how can this concept affect our life?

Let's begin with a simple set of examples.

If I wanted to describe heaven, I would probably say a place of joy and peace, where I learn more about the world around me, somewhere where I have a meaningful job to do and I strive to accomplish it with tremendous enthusiasm. And the more I sit here and try to write more about it, the more I realize that I really am describing my own feelings, rather than a place itself.

So how about if I try to visualize an actual location? What would be a truly amazing place for me, a veritable heaven on earth? Well, to be honest, a bookstore, or maybe a library, in which I could sit and read to my heart's content. There would be people around, too, with whom I could talk about what we are all reading. Oh, and with a free coffee bar. That would probably be asking too much, though, wouldn't it? Well, it is my heaven, after all, so free lattes. But in the end, it would not just be sitting and reading. I would find that a bit boring. No, I would need to be reading about things that I could put into action to help make the world a better place, and then be able to go out and actually do it. That would be heaven, to me.

Now imagine if I was stuck in a sports arena, watching sports all day, served nothing but hot dogs and beer. Well, I'd probably be given soda pop, instead. But no, I'm describing my own hell. I'd be served warm beer. And it wouldn't even be the good ale I enjoyed before I was a Baha'i and living in Europe. It would be American beer. Warm American beer, and hot dogs with ketchup. I'm from Chicago originally, so hot dogs with ketchup is already a horrible concept. Oh, this would truly be hell for me.

But I can easily imagine some of my friends for whom this would be reversed. The bookstore would be a boring hell, while they would love to be in that stadium.

All of a sudden we can easily see how one person's heaven could be another person's hell.

Now, imagine if your life revolved around food, and all of a sudden you lost your sense of taste. Or if you spent all your time accumulating stuff, and then found that you had nothing. Just imagine if you spent your whole life collecting a pristine set of, I don't know, Spiderman comics. And then, all of a sudden, this prized collection was suddenly dispersed to the winds. It's easy to see how the loss of what you treasured would be a form of hell.

You see how we can now make sense of this notion that heaven and hell are more due to our own perspective, right? But again, how does this impact our daily life?

Let's be clear that we do not take our body with us when we die. That's a starting point for me, a given. But let's also be clear that we are still conscious, aware of our surroundings, of our sense of self. Some may call it a soul, or our spirit. I'm not concerned either way, but just that it impacts what comes next.

We no longer have a sense of taste, for we no longer have a body with which to taste things. We have the memory of taste, but that's likely as satisfying a being diabetic and having to content oneself with the aroma in a wonderful bakery. Hell? Yup.

Can we relish in our collection of stuff? Nope.

But what if our greatest treasure was the expression on someone's face as they succeeded in accomplishing a difficult task? What if our most prized possession was working with someone in coming to a deeper understanding of a difficult topic? What if our greatest joy was found in the accomplishments of others?

These are things that we can appreciate in the next world, without need for a body.

When we begin to find the deep soul-felt solace in contemplative prayer and meditation, when we learn to treasure those hard won accomplishments of others, it feels to me as if we are training ourselves for our life in the next world.

But when we dedicate our life to those fleeting things of this world, it is as if we are spending our time striving to move backwards, back into the womb of our earthly existence.

Everything in our spiritual life seems to be encouraging us to move forwards, to learn to appreciate those things to come, and detach from those things we must necessarily leave behind.

So yes, heaven and hell do seem to be a matter of perspective, and yes, we can train ourselves to be prepared for that world to come. We can train ourselves to find that perspective that will allow us to see what comes next as an anticipated heaven.

And if I do happen to find myself in that stadium, perhaps I will learn to appreciate the struggle of competition on the field, and relish in the hard-won victory of the winning team.

But I'll still give a hard pass on the hot dogs and beer, thanks.

Hidden Words, #44

All right. All right. I hear you, dear Reader. I know it's been a while since I've posted. I'm sorry, but it's been a very busy past few months.

That's not why you're complaining?

The title? Oh, my mistake. Which Hidden Word #44? Arabic or Persian? Why, yes, I'm glad you asked.

Well, let's see shall we? We'll start with the Arabic.

"O Son of the Throne!"

That's a nice beginning. It is like a reminder of that other Hidden Word half the book ago, # 22: "Noble have I created thee..."

But then there is the Persian #44:

"O Companion of My Throne!"

Hmm. I notice a trend. Probably just a coincidence, right? Let's move on with a bit of each, Arabic and Persian, and see what happens.

"Thy hearing is My hearing, hear thou therewith." "Hear no evil..."

Now wait a second. My Spidey sense is tingling.

"Thy sight is My sight, do thou see therewith..." ...and see no evil..."

Okay. There's something going on here.

Now He asks us to take it a step further, moving from our passive senses to our actions.

"...that in thine inmost soul thou mayest testify unto My exalted sanctity." "...neither sigh and weep. Speak no evil, that thou mayest not hear it spoken unto thee, and magnify not the faults of others that thine own faults may not appear great; and wish not the abasement of anyone, that thine own abasement be not exposed. Live then the days of thy life, that are less than a fleeting moment, with thy mind stainless, thy heart unsullied, thy thoughts pure, and thy nature sanctified..."

 Finally, He hints at what will be our reward.

"...and I within Myself may bear witness unto an exalted station for thee." "...so that, free and content, thou mayest put away this mortal frame, and repair unto the mystic paradise and abide in the eternal kingdom forevermore."

* * * * *

Alright. Let's go back to the beginning and I'll share some thoughts. Of course, these thoughts are nothing official. They're only my personal thoughts, so you can take them or leave them, as you will.

First, as mentioned above, we are given the reminder in both of these Hidden Words that we are inherently noble. This is a fact of our creation. The question, though, may be why we don't always act like it. And for that, we need to continue reading.

Actually, we can go back to that other Hidden Word, #22, where it continues "yet thou hast abased thyself." It is we, through our own actions, that have brought ourselves down. Of course, it's also stated there in the Persian Hidden Word, "...abase not thyself..."

But now, with these other two, we can see a solution, a way out, a way back up to our noble station. Our hearing is God's hearing, "here thou therewith". But how do we do this? "Speak no evil, that thou mayest not hear it spoken unto thee..."

That seems simple enough, but as I'm sure you know, it's far more difficult in practice.

For me, it means simply walking away when people begin backbiting or gossiping, and being careful to which media and arts I subject myself. Of course, I'm certain it requires far more than just that, but this is a beginning. I could easily go on with quotes from the Guardian about the importance and implications of chastity, as found in The Advent of Divine Justice (page 24, if you really want to know), or even Baha'u'llah's statement in The Epistle to the Son of the Wolf about the purpose of the arts, "productive of good results... and... conducive to... well-being and tranquility". But I am sure I've said enough about it already. Be careful what you expose yourself to, for it has an influence on your spirit.

I'm more curious about what it would be like to see the world through His eyes. What does it mean to "see no evil"?

I believe we get a hint from 'Abdu'l-Baha when He speaks of the scorpion and snake, in Some Answered Questions, 74.5. "...(S)corpions and snakes are evil, but only in relation to us and not to themselves, for their venom is their weapon and their sting their means of defence. But as the constituent elements of their venom are incompatible with those of our bodies... the venom is evil, or rather, those elements are evil in relation to each other, while in their own reality they are both good."

Imagine if we could see the world like this. How differently would we view the world when we understood purpose? We would understand how those pesky mosquitoes feed the birds, and while we would still not want them to take a drop of our blood, we might not vilify them as much.

Of course, there are those who are purposefully evil, such as the tyrant or the thief. 'Abdu'l-Baha cautions us, in Selections 138: 

Strive ye then with all your heart to treat compassionately all humankind—except for those who have some selfish, private motive, or some disease of the soul. Kindness cannot be shown the tyrant, the deceiver, or the thief, because, far from awakening them to the error of their ways, it maketh them to continue in their perversity as before. No matter how much kindliness ye may expend upon the liar, he will but lie the more, for he believeth you to be deceived, while ye understand him but too well, and only remain silent out of your extreme compassion.

Here we find that balance between justice and compassion. But when we understand where they are coming from, why they are lying or whatever, we can see them more as an unruly child. It doesn't change the punishment meted out to them, but rather removes the burden of hatred from our own soul.

After the parts in those Hidden Words about sight, we then get to that reminder of our own noble station. It is as if by viewing the world with His eyes, and coming to an understanding of the motivation of others, that we return to the "exalted station" mentioned in the 44th Arabic Hidden Word.

When we turn to the Persian Hidden Word, it picks up where the Arabic has left off. We are being shown our reward for striving to act in this lofty manner. We will be "free and content", as that aforementioned burden is removed.

 In that same Persian Hidden Word, we are also reminded of the "fleeting moment" that is our life. Why would we want to waste any of that short time carrying around such a burden? Wouldn't we rather be free of it? Light of heart and soul?

I think the word "unsullied" is also very purposeful. It brings to mind Baha'u'llah's story of the bird, found in Gleanings, #153:

Ye are even as the bird which soareth, with the full force of its mighty wings and with complete and joyous confidence, through the immensity of the heavens, until, impelled to satisfy its hunger, it turneth longingly to the water and clay of the earth below it, and, having been entrapped in the mesh of its desire, findeth itself impotent to resume its flight to the realms whence it came. Powerless to shake off the burden weighing on its sullied wings, that bird, hitherto an inmate of the heavens, is now forced to seek a dwelling-place upon the dust.

When we listen with God's ears, and strive to see with His eyes, we shake off that dust. We are far less likely to become sullied, or burdened, with our own limited and obscured vision.

Just imagine how liberating it would feel to have no hatred for anyone, no anger in our life. We would still grieve at the injustices of the world, but we would not be weighed down with our own unworthy reaction. Can we not imagine ourselves soaring easily without that weight on our soul? Perhaps it is with this freedom that we can go on to "the mystic paradise and abide in the eternal kingdom for evermore."