A Thought of Duty

It never fails.

I look through the Writings to get a quote for an idea I have when fate places a completely different quote in my path, a quote that triggers another thought altogether that I know I won't be able to shake until it is safely on the page. Or on the screen.

And it always happens late at night when I'm just getting ready to head off to sleep.

There I am, with a thought for an article that I hope to write the next day, combined with my evening reading of the Writings, and a concept is implanted within my brain, a concept that I know just won't let me sleep until it is safely out there. (Hmm, there's another application of the idea that human utterance is an essence.)

Tonight it is a quote from the Guardian that I have long loved, a quote from The Promised Day is Come. The final two paragraphs.

And while the ideas within this quote begin to percolate, I'm going to go on a tangent for a moment.

I used to tutor math and science for many years, and every now and then would get asked for help with English. Well, it seemed pretty straightforward, but I soon discovered that the problem with English was an inability to read, or more precisely to comprehend what was being read. Every single student that I worked with had this problem. "What to do", I thought, when I stumbled upon a paragraph from the Guardian in The Advent of Divine Justice, the paragraph about the implications of a chaste and holy life.

After explaining my methodology to their parents, I would give the students this Effendian paragraph (I think this is a worthy adjective describing a piece of writing that is absolutely precise in its word use, despite its apparent length) and ask them to read it until they understood what he was saying. To do this, I would explain to them the concept of sub-clauses, and how they give detail and clarity to the main part of the sentence. Then they would be asked to underline said main part of sentence.

We would also talk about logic, word definitions, and how the Guardian always chose words that did not overlap in their definitions when giving a list of criteria. This was part of his perfection in his writing.

Once they understood how to read the Guardian's writings, their grades went up at least 20%. Every single time. Every single student.

What it did for their spiritual life, I have no idea.

But now I want to look at another paragraph, that second to last one from The Promised Day is Come. I'm going to copy and paste it here, and then do it again with the main parts of the sentences underlined, so bear with me. It might help you to see what I'm doing if you read the first in its entirety, and then only the underlined parts in the second. Here goes:

Not ours, puny mortals that we are, to attempt, at so critical a stage in the long and checkered history of mankind, to arrive at a precise and satisfactory understanding of the steps which must successively lead a bleeding humanity, wretchedly oblivious of its God, and careless of Bahá'u'lláh, from its calvary to its ultimate resurrection. Not ours, the living witnesses of the all-subduing potency of His Faith, to question, for a moment, and however dark the misery that enshrouds the world, the ability of Bahá'u'lláh to forge, with the hammer of His Will, and through the fire of tribulation, upon the anvil of this travailing age, and in the particular shape His mind has envisioned, these scattered and mutually destructive fragments into which a perverse world has fallen, into one single unit, solid and indivisible, able to execute His design for the children of men.

I just love Ocean. It makes this type of work so much easier. So, here is the second version that makes this first version comprehensible to one as obtuse as myself.

Not ours, puny mortals that we are, to attempt, at so critical a stage in the long and checkered history of mankind, to arrive at a precise and satisfactory understanding of the steps which must successively lead a bleeding humanity, wretchedly oblivious of its God, and careless of Bahá'u'lláh, from its calvary to its ultimate resurrection. Not ours, the living witnesses of the all-subduing potency of His Faith, to question, for a moment, and however dark the misery that enshrouds the world, the ability of Bahá'u'lláh to forge, with the hammer of His Will, and through the fire of tribulation, upon the anvil of this travailing age, and in the particular shape His mind has envisioned, these scattered and mutually destructive fragments into which a perverse world has fallen, into one single unit, solid and indivisible, able to execute His design for the children of men.

There is so much in this paragraph to love, so much to wonder at, so much to ponder. From its opening reminder that we are, in fact, "puny mortals" coming to this point in time that is unique in the annals of history, from a past that is far from glorious, through a present that is ultimately lamentable, to its final summary of the vision of where we need to be, this single paragraph offers us a clarity of this vision that is truly remarkable. He tells us of our position and reminds us of Baha'u'llah's.

There are many things that we can question in the Baha'i Faith, for that is what is meant by the independent investigation of truth, but there are some things that are not meant to be questioned. This letter is, after all, addressed to the "Friends and fellow-heirs of the Kingdom of Bahá'u'lláh", so it presumed that we already recognize His station.

Once we recognize His mighty station, then it is no longer fruitful for us "to question... the ability of Baha'u'llah to forge... these scattered and mutually destructive fragments (of humanity)... into one single unit... able to execute His design for the children of men." We know He has the ability. What's more, we know that He has given us the tools to accomplish it.

No, here the beloved Guardian is telling us, in simple terms (despite what it may seem) that if we are members of this glorious community, we can take this for granted. We do not need to waste our precious time questioning those things that we already presume as members of the Baha'i Faith.

Instead, we can move on to the final paragraph of this incredible letter.

Ours rather the duty, however confused the scene, however dismal the present outlook, however circumscribed the resources we dispose of, to labor serenely, confidently, and unremittingly to lend our share of assistance, in whichever way circumstances may enable us, to the operation of the forces which, as marshaled and directed by Bahá'u'lláh, are leading humanity out of the valley of misery and shame to the loftiest summits of power and glory.

Here we could read only those parts that I've underlined, but I would really encourage you to read the whole paragraph. (I'll wait.) Doesn't it just come to life? Hasn't Shoghi Effendi just captured the moment? The confusion, the pessimism, the dificulties we all face?

But rest assured, we can put all that aside. We can "labor", for it will be hard work, "serenely, confidently, and unremittingly" as we execute the plans laid out for us by the Universal House of Justice. We don't have to each do everything, as long as we each do something, for no one person can do everything, and not everyone should do the same thing.

Baha'u'llah is our Commander, and it is the Universal House of Justice that is guiding our steps at this time, like a good general. Our job, whether as footsolidiers in His army of light, or in a higher capacity if we are called to serve upon an institution of the Faith, is to lend our share to his Cause.