Ten years ago I wrote a a few articles on this prayer and only recently re-read them. And you know what I learned? It doesn't matter how often you read a particular prayer, it unfolds itself in new ways every time. I also learned that I cannot recall writing these articles at all. They read, to me, as if someone else is speaking in my voice. And so, dear Reader, I wondered what I would say today if I were to write these articles again.
Of course, as soon as I asked myself this, I opened my prayer book, said a short prayer in my heart, and then began to read.
Now, I feel I must interrupt the flow of this particular stream of thought to admit something to you before I begin. After all, I know I can trust you. We're friends, and you would never laugh at me, except when appropriate, right?
So, when I go to say a prayer, I always say a short personal prayer in my heart before turning to the Writings. Why? I don't know. It just feels right to prepare myself before approaching something so sacred, like we are told to do with the Feast. Today, I did that, as usual, and then began to re-read this wonderful prayer for the Fast. I started to feel the rhythm of the prayer, the flow of the spirit as it washed over my own soul, noted a passage that stuck out at me and gently flagged it. This, by the way, is something that my hand just does naturally without any specific conscious thought on my part. It's just a tiny dot of the pencil that touches the prayer book and later, when I'm done with the reading / praying part of the prayer, I go back and look at those dots.
Today, however, I was about halfway through the reading part of it when I realized I was reading the wrong prayer. I was reading the one that begins "Glory be to Thee, O Lord my God!" Oops. Oh well. It's still a good prayer, right? Oh, and that's a personal joke with me. Whenever a friend asks which prayer they should read, I almost always say, "Choose a good one." It's like when some friends and I were talking about the Hidden Words, and one of them was trying to remember a particular one that the other loved to chant. He couldn't recall which one they were referring to and asked, "How does it begin?" I said, "O Son of..." And there was a long pause before they both fell over laughing. Anyways, maybe I'll look at that other prayer later on during this Fast. Perhaps it was a hint from up top.
Back to today.
It is one hour after sunrise, 6 March 2021. And "I beseech Thee, O my God".
This morning there are a number of dots on the page, more than usual. Certainly more than I can write about in a single article here. Rather than try to write about the thoughts that traipse through my mind on each of them, I'll just do one at a time, in order, and maybe tackle the others tomorrow.
Of course, I should also point out that each and every word in the sacred Writings is holy and filled with layers upon layers of meaning. To focus on one is not to say that the others are any less meaningful, not at all. Instead, it is to see them as gems that catch my eye at a particular moment in my life. Focusing on an extract, a single piece of the Writings, is nothing new. After all, there are single lines taken from the verses and placed on the walls of the temple in Wilmette. We look at a single verse at a time in the first sections of the Ruhi books. Baha'u'llah, Himself, extracted a number of single lines in His great work, Epistle to the Son of the Wolf. So I feel there is nothing wrong with focusing on a single line, phrase, or word, within the context of the entire piece.
Today, the first phrase that caught my attention, that moved me enough to rock forward and place that dot on the page, was "the shadow of Thy mercy".
Why is mercy a shadow in this context? If God is the Light of the world, and Baha'u'llah is the Most Glorious, why would being in a shadow be a mercy? Wouldn't this block His light from reaching us? Isn't that what a shadow does, block the light?
Perhaps, and I don't really know for this is only my own opinion and nothing official, God's light is so intense that the shadow really is a mercy, allowing us to see the light without burning up underneath it. As I write this, I am thinking of how I wear sunglasses while driving on a bright day. It protects me, and allows me to see more clearly. Maybe this is what the shadow of His mercy does.
Many times Baha'u'llah said to the friends that if He were to reveal His true glory, they would all swoon away. By standing behind a veil, so to speak, they could begin to catch a glimpse of Him.
There is also the story that He told to one of the Pilgrims about the training of a parrot. When the trainer wishes to teach the parrot to speak, they hide behind a mirror. This way, the parrot sees another parrot but hears the voice of the speaker. The bird thinks that the voice is that of another bird, and thus they begin to speak, in imitation. This, Baha'u'llah is reported to have said, is how the Manifestation teaches humanity. If the parrot were to see the human speaking, they would be frightened away, but by seeing something familiar, they learn.
Now, in the context of the prayer, it seems to me that we are standing outside the gate of the city God, waiting to be allowed to enter. When I imagine myself in that context, standing outside a city of old, waiting for the guards to let me in, I see myself standing out in the sun. Heat stroke would be a distinct possibility at certain times of the year. The shadowing cloud protecting me from the hot rays of the sun would be a distinct mercy, for which I would ardently pray. Of course, if it were raining, then a canopy would be most welcome, which is, you will note, the very next phrase.
At this point, I would love to keep writing, exploring more of this wonderful prayer, but my cat is insisting I spend time with him. And my wife and I need to go to the farms to get more fresh veggies for juicing during this Fast.
Thank you for joining me this morning, and I truly look forward to hearing what phrases catch your attention in this prayer. Hopefully I'll be able to explore a bit more tomorrow.
