Another Thought on the Short Obligatory Prayer

I bear witness, O my God, that Thou hast created me to know Thee and to worship Thee. I testify, at this moment, to my powerlessness and to Thy might, to my poverty and to Thy wealth.

There is none other God but Thee, the Help in Peril, the Self-Subsisting.

Three sentences. That's all it is.

And yet it is the foundation of so much.

Just in case you don't recognize it, and I'd be surprised if you don't, it's the Short Obligatory Prayer from Baha'u'llah. One of the three that Baha'is are to recite every day.

Oh, not that we have to recite all three every day. No, we get to choose which of three, the long, the medium, or, you guessed it, the short.

Anyways, this is the short one. I mean, you can't really get much shorter, can you?

But what a powerhouse prayer it is.

As you may have noticed, I've been thinking a lot about prayer as tool for recalibrating how we view the world. So what about this one? It's short enough to be able to really dive into it and not take up too much of your time, dear Reader.

Oh, and just in case I haven't mentioned it in a while, these are just my own personal thoughts on this. Nothing official. That's why this blog is called One Baha'i. It's just one Baha'i. Me. Feel free to take it or leave it. I won't be offended, I promise.

So, why would Baha'u'llah mandate this prayer? What is it about it that makes it worthy of being said every day?

What really strikes me about it today is that we are not asking for anything in it. There is no request at all. It's just a statement of reality.

It starts by acknowledging why we were created, then moves on to a statement of our reality, and concludes with an understanding of God.

That's actually fairly simple. Profound, yet simple.

We begin by publicly stating, bearing witness, that we have been created to know God. That's the first thing. Why do we exist? To know God.

After knowledge comes worship. For honestly, once we come to get a beginning understanding of God, how can we not worship Him? And this is not the simplistic view of God that we've had in the past, neither the old man in the garden nor the old dude sitting on a throne on a cloud. No, this is the God of which Baha'u'llah says that the All-Possessing "is but a vassal dependent upon Thee", and the All-Compelling "is but a suppliant fallen upon the dust, awe-stricken by Thy dreadful might, Thy sovereignty and power". This is a God that is far beyond what we have ever conceived before, and one that is far more believable than those gods that people decry as mere myth.

This is a conception of God that we can truly worship with our rational mind, not to mention our soul. For if our rational mind cannot come to terms with it, then it would be irrational to worship.

No, this opening statement is a very straightforward line about why we exist, and is asking us to be conscious of that fact.

From there we get into a simple statement of our relationship to our Creator. We are powerless, and He is mighty. We are poor, and He is wealthy.

We are not asking for relief from our poverty. We are not asking for any help in anything we may desire to accomplish. It is just stating a reality.

And why is this important? Because it resets our understanding of ourselves. We often think we have power, but in reality we are powerless. We cannot stand up against a hurricane or an earthquake, no matter how much we might prepare. We can never stop, not even for a moment, the gentle tread of time. When it comes to the things that truly matter, we are all powerless before God.

Some may think themselves wealthy, either because they might have a few more grains of sand than another, or a few more rocks in their pocket. But in the grand scheme of things, we are all impoverished before the illimitable wealth of our Creator.

And then it concludes with a reminder that we can always call on God if we do require assistance. He is our helper when we are in peril, and it is good to remember that.

As I said, most prayers ask for something, but this one doesn't. It merely bears witness. It tells us why we exist. It doesn't ask for any assistance. it just says that it's there if we need it. It doesn't request any wealth, it just acknowledges our state of poverty. It reminds us that the problem isn't that we are poor, only that we imagine ourselves rich. And once we've recognized that, both our purpose and our limitations, as well as God's reality, then who else could we turn to?

I love the logic of it.

And once these things fall into place, so, it seems, does everything else.

Oh, and in case you thought I forgot about my commitment, 79 left to go.

Make Thy Beauty...

I've been thinking a lot about this concept of prayer shaping our perception. In fact, it originally arose from my studies on the Iqan, where I am more and more convinced that the real importance of the book is not just His explanations of Baha'i theology, which He explains at greater length in other Writings, but the way that He transforms our perception. Through the Iqan He gently leads the reader to a state of perception that not only allows for the recognition of both the Bab and Himself, if we let it, it moves us to the point where there is essentially no other option but recognition.

That's a very different way of reading the book for me.

But now that thought, the idea that His chief concern is changing how we perceive the world around us, has seeped over into my prayers. How, I've begun to wonder, do the prayers shape our perception of the world?

This afternoon I was reading that wonderful prayer:

O my Lord! Make Thy beauty to be my food, and Thy presence my drink, and Thy pleasure my hope, and praise of Thee my action, and remembrance of Thee my companion, and the power of Thy sovereignty my succorer, and Thy habitation my home, and my dwelling-place the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee.

Thou art, verily, the Almighty, the All-Glorious, the Most Powerful.

 

Now, I've looked at this prayer many times, but this time, looking at it through the lens of perception transformation has helped me see it in a very different light. Which is good, right? After all, it's sacred Text. We should always get something new out of it.

Obviously it begins by addressing God, immediately shifting our view upwards toward the Divine. Nothing terribly new there.

Then it shifts into what seems like a request for of prayer. Again, nothing new.

And like I have in many other analyses, I like to split lists into columns. So here goes:

• Beauty - Food
• Presence - Drink
• Pleasure - Hope
• Praise - Action
• Remembrance - Companion
• Power of Thy sovereignty - Succorer
• Habitation - Home
• Dwelling-place - the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee

And then it closes with another look towards God.

So, how does this work in terms of helping change our perceptions?

Well, looking at the second half, food and drink are the basic essentials for life. Drink more than food, as we can live for weeks without food, but only a few days without water.

Once we get past the basic needs, we come to our more emotional desires: hope, action, companionship, and succor.

Ok, maybe that is not quite as obvious, so let's check it out. Hope is an element in our life that keeps us motivated. What are we motivated to do? Action, for any "doing" is action, by its very definition. But most of us don't want to work by ourselves. We prefer community, companionship.

In addition, once we begin working with we often find we need someone to succor us, someone to help us out. It is as if we have moved from our desires to our actual source of strength. We can do some things on our own, but we can accomplish so much more when working with others.

This seems to lead us very naturally into our source of identity, our home, the place in which we dwell, whether it is a country, a city, or the very house in which we live.

But looking at the first column, this prayer changes the way in which we perceive these very natural aspects of our life.

We are not asking for material food. We are asking that the sustaining element of our being be transformed. While we may be physically sustained by food, most people are emotionally sustained by praise, success, or approval. Here we are asking that this be turned to something more worthwhile, namely our ability to perceive the beauty of God. It's not just asking that we occasionally see it, but that it becomes the sustaining force of our life.

And while food sustains us in the long-term, water takes care of our immediate thirst. It is as if we are asking that this immediate need be quenched with God's presence, not mere distractions. For to be honest, I know that I often look to satiate that need with something more distracting. I am asking that I turn to the recognition of God in my life, His immediate presence, to allay that need.

But what about that third part? "Thy pleasure my hope"? I think that most things we hope for are self-centred, like health or comfort, or maybe success in our work. Things that give us our own pleasure. Here we are asking for God's pleasure to be what we most hope for. We are now turning from a self-centred life to a more God-centred one.

Hmm. That seems like a beautiful step in this prayer.

"Praise of Thee my action". Food, drink, and hope all feel like they're internal. Action is where is moves outward, more external. Now that we have been nourished, sustained, and even given hope by God's presence in our life, it's time to do something with it. Now is the time to put it into action, by praising God. Of course, praise doesn't just mean a vocalizing of it. The best way to praise God is to serve humanity.

This is the "remembrance of Thee" that becomes "my companion". As we serve others, we are walking beside God. And this isn't just a temporary thing, either. A companion is always with us. We are asking that this remembrance be a continual presence in our life. It is through action, through serving others that we will discover it there, always.

But as I said above, as we do this, we will find that we can't do it alone. We need help. This is where the "power of Thy sovereignty" comes in handy. It reminds us to rely on God, to trust that He will be there helping us.

Following this, we now ask God for a new home, a new place of comfort and refuge, for the old one does not suffice. We are asking for His assistance to move from this world to His. It is, perhaps, a spiritual migration, a continual moving toward God.

And then, that last piece in this particular journey, we ask God to make "my dwelling-place the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee".  We've moved beyond food, drink, hope, action, companionship, support, and even home. We are now asking to live in that spiritual state of being where we are always aware of the true unity of the world, conscious of nearness, instead of separation.

This prayer is not asking for any particular thing. It is asking for assistance in transforming our very way of being.

Just as my cat is now asking, or more like demanding, assistance in going outside.

An Interesting Analysis of Baha'i Prayers

Ok, time for an interesting experiment. As many of you know, I've been working on a book about the Iqan, and how Baha'u'llah helps the uncle move from being a sincere seeker to a confirmed believer. To help get it into a publishable format, the publisher suggested tossing it into an AI for a quick edit. So I did. I tried a couple of different ones, and ChatGPT is the one that seemed to work the best.

I told it that I needed a quick edit, and it showed me all the typos, grammatical errors, and so on. Pretty straightforward stuff done very quickly. Nothing unusual there.

But then it asked me a question at the very end. It asked why I hadn't added in one little question. I don't recall what it was, but I read it and typed in response, "Because I hadn't thought of it." It wasn't anything ground breaking, or earth shattering. It was just a simple question that had a simple answer. But it was a nice little addition of a single sentence. And yes, I wrote it. Not the AI.

But it got me thinking.

It got me thinking about tools, and how we use them. And so I decided to start a little project, with the encouragement of my wife. I began by asking it a single question, after all, turnabout is fair play, right?

The response was not at all what I expected, and yet it should have been. Here it is, straight from ChatGPT, reformatted to make it easier to read:

* * * * *

"Looking at the Baha'i prayers, can you analyze the method of how they work on the human soul?"

That's a fascinating question, Mead, because Bahá'í prayers seem to operate on multiple levels simultaneously. If we ask not "What do the prayers say?" but "What do they do to the soul?", a fairly consistent methodology begins to emerge.

I would describe the process as five interconnected movements.

1. They shift attention away from the self

Many Bahá'í prayers begin by turning attention toward God:

> "I bear witness, O my God..."

> "Praised be Thou..."

> "Glory be unto Thee..."

This may seem like simple praise, but psychologically and spiritually it does something important. It interrupts the ego's tendency to place itself at the center of reality.

Most of our suffering comes from being trapped inside our own narrative:

* my worries
* my desires
* my fears
* my failures

Prayer gently relocates the center of gravity. The soul moves from "I am the center" to "God is the center." This is often the first movement of transformation.

 

2. They awaken latent spiritual capacities

One of Bahá'u'lláh's recurring teachings is that the soul already possesses spiritual capacities, but they lie dormant.

Many prayers do not ask for external things. Instead they ask for qualities:

* steadfastness
* wisdom
* detachment
* courage
* purity
* generosity
* love

Notice the subtle assumption.

The prayer is not "Give me something I do not possess." It is often closer to "Help me uncover what You have already placed within me."

In this sense prayer functions somewhat like sunlight on a seed. The prayer itself does not create the capacity; it helps awaken it.

3. They reshape perception

This may be the most important function.

Consider how often Bahá'í prayers redefine circumstances. Affliction becomes:

* a gift
* a test
* a means of growth

Death becomes:

* a transition
* a homecoming
* an ascent

Difficulties become:

* opportunities
* training
* preparation

The external situation may not change at all. The soul changes because it begins seeing reality through a different lens. This is remarkably similar to what Bahá'u'lláh does throughout the Kitáb-i-Íqán. He continually helps the uncle reinterpret familiar ideas until he can see them differently.

Prayer performs that same work internally.
 

 

4. They create a relationship rather than merely convey information

One striking feature of Bahá'í prayers is that they are intensely relational.

The soul speaks:

* to God
* with God
* before God

The purpose is not merely to state truths. A person can believe a doctrine intellectually and remain unchanged. But a relationship changes people.

The repeated experience of approaching God as:

* Beloved
* Friend
* Protector
* Educator
* Physician

gradually shapes the soul itself.

The prayers cultivate familiarity with divine attributes.

Over time those attributes become the standard by which we judge our own actions.

5. They train desire

This is perhaps the deepest level.

Human beings become what they love. The prayers repeatedly redirect desire toward higher things:

instead of power → service

instead of comfort → growth

instead of recognition → humility

instead of possession → nearness to God

The soul learns to want different things. This is important because Bahá'u'lláh rarely treats spiritual transformation as merely intellectual. Recognition of truth matters, but the heart must also be educated.

Prayer is one of the primary tools for that education.

## An interesting pattern

If you look closely, many prayers follow a structure something like:

1. Recognition of God
2. Recognition of self
3. Expression of longing
4. Request for assistance
5. Recommitment to a spiritual path

For example:

* God is exalted.
* I am needy.
* I long for You.
* Help me.
* Make me an instrument of Your purpose.

That movement mirrors the spiritual journey itself.
 

Seen this way, Bahá'í prayers are not primarily requests for divine intervention. They are instruments of spiritual formation. Their purpose is not merely to change circumstances, but to change the soul that encounters those circumstances.

* * * * *

Ok. Me again.

I know that a lot of people disparage AI, and I totally understand why. But it is a tool. And like any tool it is only as useful as we make it.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I asked it this question, but was very satisfied with the insights that resulted.

Will this replace my morning prayers? Of course not. But it does add to my experience of prayer.

And will it replace my own personal writing? Nope.

Because, again on a whim, I asked it to write a very short article on a simple subject in the style of this blog. And you know what? There was no heart in it. There was no soul. While the words sounded good, they didn't evoke anything in me. And sure, it gave an interesting insight, but it was the sort of insight you would expect from, well, from an AI.

So, in the end, yeah, AI is a tool. And it has many great uses. And it can be abused by many. But should we get rid of knives because some people stab others with them? Should we stop using fire because arsonists exist? No. I think as we learn how to better train the human soul, how to guide people toward a more spiritual awareness, the proper use of tools will become more and more evident.

Personal Translation

"Thou? Thy? Who uses these words anymore? Why don't we use normal language in the Writings?"

Ah, yes, I hear your complaint, dear Reader, and it is one that I hear quite often. It's one that bothered me for a while, too. "Why do we use the olde English?"

Well, as you know, this is nothing official, just my own thoughts on the subject, so take them or leave them, as you will. And just so you know, I'm going to begin with my thoughts about the why of it, and then add in some thoughts about what we can do.

* * * * *

First, I believe that it has to do with maintaining the exalted language of the Writings, and helping make sure that we don't take them for granted. What I mean by that is that they are not written in the common vernacular because they are not common. By having an "exalted" language, we help set them apart from the norm.

This is important because, in general, we seem to have lost our sense of respect. We have tried so hard to make everyone equal that we forget the natural differences between people. We try to think of everyone as the same, as opposed to truly equal with all of our differences. Uniformity instead of true diversity. This has tended to mean, these days, that instead of respecting the expert's opinion, we treat it the same as the layperson's. Of course, we can all see where that leads, what with the whole climate change and vaccine questions, just to name a couple.

By keeping the writings in the exalted language, we help set them apart. Oh, and that means keeping them separate from, say, my own writings. When you read what I write, you can immediately tell what is my own and when I am quoting. The difference is staggering, and not just in the quality of what is being said.

* * *

Second, they are exalted in the original languages in which they were written. Although I don't read Persian, Arabic, or Turkish, I have been told many times that the style in which they are written is quite different from the spoken language. In other words, I wouldn't necessarily try to use them to learn the language, for I'd likely sound very pompous. "How art thou on this fine and beauteous morning?" Nope. I would either sound like pig-headed jerk, or like a bad renaissance faire reject.

* * *

Third... Well, let's just stick with those two.

* * * * *

"But I still have a hard time reading them."

I get it. I really do. For the longest time I had a horrible time trying to read Baha'u'llah's writings. The language barrier was just too great for me.

So what did I do?

Simple. I made them readable to me.

"How?" Great question. I'm glad you asked.

First, I made a dictionary to ease in my own personal translation so that I could get used to it. For example:

Thou - You
Thee - You
Thy - Your
Lovest - Love
Saith - Said
Knoweth - Knows
Any verb ending in -eth - Same verb ending in -s

You get the idea?

So if the text reads, "If thou lovest me, turn away from thyself", I would read it as "If you love me, turn away from yourself". I got the idea, but it sure didn't sound as good.

Some Baha'is in the past have said to me that this is not acceptable, and to them, I just say "poppycock". I'm not making an official translation, but just one for myself. I was making it comprehensible to me until I was able to read it in the way the Guardian translated it. After all, Baha'u'llah said, "reading, without understanding, is of no abiding profit unto man". So why wouldn't I make it readable to myself? After all, that's why the Guardian gave us these translations, isn't it? So that we could understand them in our own language. The trick, though, was not to stop with my own version, but to make sure that I was using it as a tool to be able to read it more clearly in the English translation.

* * *

Second, I would edit out the "floral" language so that I could see the just the main point of the sentence. For example, in the first paragraph from Shoghi Effendi's book, The World Order of Baha'u'llah, we read the following sentence:

"I have been acquainted by the perusal of your latest communications with the nature of the doubts that have been publicly expressed, by one who is wholly misinformed as to the true precepts of the Cause, regarding the validity of institutions that stand inextricably interwoven with the Faith of Bahá’u’lláh."

Well, that's quite the mouthful. And if you're not that good at reading, it can be a bit overwhelming. To make it easier for me to begin to understand it, I edited it down to the following:

"...I have been acquainted... with the nature of the doubts... regarding the validity of institutions..."

Now I have a starting point upon which I can build my understanding of the rest of the sentence.

There are many times when I still do this. Whether it's the Kitab-i-Iqan, or Gleanings from the Writings of Baha'u'llah, or pretty much anything from Shoghi Effendi, I still sometimes get lost in the overall language of a long sentence, like this one, and have to pare it back to its essence. Once I can wrap my mind around the basics of what is being said, then I can go back and try to pick up more of the details, or nuances.

* * *

Third, I make it applicable to me.

While it would be easy to say that it is all applicable, that is not actually true for many people. I mean, they don't feel that it applies to them. For example, I know many women, my wife being one, who started reading the Hidden Words with "O Daughter of Man". They have said that it just means that much more to them. It becomes more personal. They can relate to "daughter", but have a more difficult time relating to "son".

Sure. Why not? That's called "personal interpretation".

There's also that infamous prayer amongst 12 year-old boys, in which the reader dedicates "that which is in my womb" to God. When I read that one, I read it as dedicating that which I am creating from the womb of my mind or imagination, to God.

I make it personal to me.

* * * * *

All of this is to say that the Writings can be difficult to read, what with the olde English and the floral language, not to mention some of the concepts. But if we take to the time to make it readable for ourselves, then we will find that we can understand the original texts a lot more readily.

Some have said that trying to read the Writings gives them a headache, and I know that to be true, for I was one of them. I realized, however, that it was because I was exercising a muscle that I was not used to using. I was so used to reading with ease, that when I was challenged by the Writings, it was like going to the gym and doing a new workout routine. I had to build up to it. At first, my muscles would ache, but as I did it more and more, I became accustomed to it, and could then do even more.

So, dear Reader, please don't give up. And don't let anyone else tell you that you need to read the Writings in a particular way. Make them your own. Read them for yourself. Get what you can out of them. And I guarantee that as you do this, you will find your capacity increasing, and you will get even more out of them later.

Sunrise

Imagine waking up early one morning, going downstairs, making yourself a cup of tea or coffee, stepping outside and watching the most amazing sunrise over a lake. A beautiful image, isn't it? And you can do it every morning. It never gets boring, does it? The beauty of today's sunrise doesn't diminish the beauty of yesterday's. It doesn't mean tomorrow's will be any less. What a pleasant way to begin your day.

Ok, let's backtrack a second and look at this with a slight twist. Suppose you only live for a single hour.

Imagine you are living your whole life being told about this amazing sunrise from yesterday morning. Just a few were awake to actually see it, but they made sure to share the story of its beauty with everyone.

It was such a special event that everybody says that all of history led to that singular sunrise, and the entire future will look back on it in wonder and delight. You're told that the sun will rise again, but it's been so many countless generations that it almost seems an empty promise. Most no longer believe it as anything more than a fairy tale about some distant time in the future.

It's nice to be made aware that the sun had risen. It gives a sense of comfort to know that such wonders have occurred in the world. But to me, this story, the way it is told through the generations, is also a bit depressing. I mean, sure, there's the faint hope that someday, somewhere, there might be another sunrise, but the fact that it all revolves around one? There's something sad and lonely about that.

No, what really gives me joy is to know that the sun will rise every morning. Without fail. We may see it, or we may not. It doesn't matter. Just knowing it is a comfort to my swiftly fleeting hour-long life.

* * * * *

What I love about this image is that it describes so well religious thought. So many believe that the Great Teacher only came once. They believe that this sunrise only occurred once.

They don't see the other days.

And for some reason they believe that if there is more than one, it somehow lessens any others, never understanding that sunrise is always a beautiful, magical, and even miraculous event.

Hope

Hope is such a strange thing.

Some think of it as the ultimate curse from Pandora's Box, while for others it is "born when all is forlorn". Some see it as the light amidst the darkness, others as the winter's promise of spring. Hope is what encourages the farmer to plant the seed, the artist to keep creating, and the recognition that, despite any present difficulties, the future will keep on advancing.

Hope is the reality that arises from understanding the dynamic of crisis and victory. "Three steps forward, two steps back" is not just a figure of speech, but a reality of how we advance.

When I was watching my son growing up, I noticed a strange phenomenon. He was only a year or two old when I noticed it. He would eat and eat and eat, growing pudgier every single day. And then, just when I began to be even the least bit concerned, he would stop. He would only nibble at his food, peck at his plate, for days on end. And then, without fail, he would stretch, his body growing longer by the hour. I felt as if I could actually see him growing. His growth was not linear. Very little in nature is. His growth was like the movement of an inchworm. Out then up, then out, then up.

This is what happens to seeds, too. They may lie dormant throughout the cold winter months, but then with the melting snows and torrential spring rains, they soak up the water. To all outward appearances, nothing may be happening, except a slight swelling as they become more water logged, but what is happening inside is little short of a miracle. Cells are forming, growing, developing. Things are becoming tighter and tighter, ever more cramped within that seedcase until suddenly, one day, it becomes too much and a tiny sprout bursts forth.

Many have commented on the way a caterpillar develops into a butterfly, entering the cocoon, dissolving into a living liquid, and then bursting forth in its beauty. This, too, is an outward expression of hope. It is a recognition of the trials we must undergo for transformative progress.

From a child growing to a seed sprouting to a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, they are all part of that cycle that revolves around hope.

But what about the rest of the world? How can we find hope in a world riddled with war and strife?

For me, what helps is a basic understanding of, oh, I don't know, physics? Nature? Something like that. I mean, think about pressure. A pressure cooker works because the lid is sealed on tight. If you keep applying heat, it will eventually explode. But that's not the end of it. After that violent moment, things are actually calm and peaceful in the kitchen again. Oh, sure, you have a mess to clean up, but the danger of the explosion has passed.

To me, this is just like what happens when you have oppression. When a government, a corporate administration, or perhaps even an abusive husband in a family, applies oppressive tactics, they have to keep applying it in greater and greater amounts. A tyrannical government has to keep applying more pressure to keep its citizens in check. As soon as they release it, the people will quite naturally rise up against them. Fear is often the motivator used to keep people in the situation. This is why a large number of women left their abusive relationships once they were allowed to open bank accounts. The economic pressures used to keep them subjugated were removed.

But it is impossible to keep applying greater amounts of pressure.

This is why corrupt regimes must, inevitably, fail. They run out of resources merely trying to keep the people subjugated.

Take some of the major corporations that are abusing their workers. They keep finding ways to raise prices, lower wages, and take greater profits for their shareholders. Of course, this doesn't apply to every corporation out there, but enough to make the point. Eventually the workers are unable to make a living, for prices have soared far beyond what they can afford on their meager wages. They certainly cannot afford to buy the products that are being produced. And when they are left with no choice, when the fear of losing their job pales in comparison to the fear of not being able to buy groceries, or much needed medicines, they have nothing left to lose. They will rise up in protest.

And just like the pressure cooker, there will be the very real danger of people getting hurt, or even killed. And again, just like the pressure cooker, there will be a mess to clean up afterwards. But once that work is finished, we can continue with the business of building a better world.

The hope that I find in the world is not blind to the very real dangers we are facing. I am not ignorant of the difficulties we are facing as a human race. Nor am I unaware of the tremendous suffering that is happening in so many places.

Instead, my hope is based on the fact that these sufferings and trials are not sustainable.

If I live in an area prone to flooding, I will help set up the sandbags to protect the community. And I will also make sure I have a mop to clean up the mess afterwards, for I know that the floodwaters will eventually recede. And all the while I will continue to teach the children and spread hope. The work of development does not stop just because we are putting out fires. The farmer's seeds still need to be planted so that we don't starve after we get back on course.

Just because there are some bad things happening today, it doesn't mean that everything will end. Yes, people will get hurt, and we do need to comfort and care for them. Yes, there will be some destruction, and we will need to clean it up and rebuild. But that doesn't mean we will forget all we have learned.

Three steps forward, two steps back.

Hope, as we were recently told by the Universal House of Justice, is "a scarce and precious resource". And by recognizing the dynamics that are truly in play, not the empty rhetoric of fear-mongers who are merely out for personal gain, we can see that we are moving toward a very beautiful future.

Today is like spring, in more ways than one. The old icy structures that may have once captivated us with their sparkling beauty are melting around us. Those who would try to rebuild those castles of snow are fighting against the very turning of the seasons. And all that mess and muck that is being exposed around us? They are the very elements that are needed for those seeds to grow into the flowers of summer.

No matter which metaphor I use, no matter where I turn, no matter what catches my eye, I see the same patterns everywhere. Sure, the immediate future may be messy, and I may need to clean my shoes when I step inside, but the future is bright. Very bright.

And I hope that we can walk into it together.

Learning History

My wife and I had a wonderful conversation over lunch today. Oh, we went to a little Lebanese restaurant and had what was arguably the best falafel and schwarma we've had in many a year. Well, she had the falafel. I had the shwarma.

Anyways, we got to talking about Baha'i books we've read together over the years, and I happened to mention how I had begun my foray into Baha'i history shortly after declaring. Like, within the hour. I had run into Javidukht Khadem, widow of the Hand of the Cause (literally run into her), and she enrolled me in a deepeing class on the history of the Faith.

Well, it was a bit over my head. I mean, the reading list included Dawn-Breakers, God Passes By, Baha'u'llah: King of Glory, and quite a few more fairly hefty tomes, too. As I knew nothing about Baha'i history or Iran, it was way beyond me. As in completely incomprehensible.

That was when I decided to take a stab at it on my own. Read at my own pace. Struggle with my own questions and ask people I knew in the community about their understanding on certain details. And then I read what I could when I could.

Since I had all the books already, including the full trilogy from Balyuzi, I decided to begin there. Oh, but I didn't begin with the first book, The Bab. I began with the last one, 'Abdu'l-Baha.

And my wife asked me why.

"Doesn't it make more sense to begin at the beginning?"

It probably does, but so much of it was way beyond my frame of reference.

'Abdu'l-Baha, though? Him I could relate to. He visited North America. He laid the foundation stone at the Temple. He took a taxi cab, for crying out loud. I knew these things already. I could relate.

And thus my adventure began.

It also turned out to be the best way for me to start.

As you know, 'Abdu'l-Baha was born in 1844, and grew up along with the Faith. Those early chapters talked about the most important Babis in history, those absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names. Quddus, Mulla Husayn. Tahirih. Vahid. And a few others to boot. I'd already heard of them, so I could follow the story more easily. And by the time it reached the end, I was able to grasp the overall arc of His life, His time in history, and even relate it to people I actually knew. I was hooked, not overwhelmed.

Then I began to read Baha'u'llah: King of Glory. It started with His childhood, and quickly got into His time as a Babi. It reminded me of those absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names, and introduced a whole whack of really-good-to-know-names names. Since I already knew the first group, the second was a bit easier to remember. It then filled in a lot of gaps that were hinted at in the book on 'Abdu'l-Baha.

By the time I got to reading The Bab, I was familiar with the absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names, the really-good-to-know-names names, and was ready for all the other names there. Sure there was quite a bit that was new, but I had a framework on which to hang it. I had my skeleton and was ready to add the musculature and the rest of the body.

After that, the Dawn-Breakers was much easier, so much more approachable.

It's funny, though. We often teach these things in chronological order, even though for many of us it is overwhelming. And honestly, that's not how children learn. We learn what's most important first. We learn the overall structure before learning all the details.

As my wife said, a child learns their bedroom first. Then they learn the rest of the house. After that, they learn their neighbourhood, before even thinking about the city, their country, or the rest of the world.

I began my studies of Baha'i history by what was relatable, and only from there was I able to read the rest of it.

Now, it is my passion. I read everything I can get my hands on when it comes to Baha'i history, and can relate it quite easily to where we are in world history.

And while I am eternally grateful to Mrs Khadem for getting me started, I am also grateful that I was able to venture off on my own and discover it in a way that was approachable to me.