The Prevailing Order

The winds of despair are, alas, blowing from every direction, and the strife that divideth and afflicteth the human race is daily increasing. The signs of impending convulsions and chaos can now be discerned, inasmuch as the prevailing order appeareth to be lamentably defective. I beseech God, exalted be His glory, that He may graciously awaken the peoples of the earth, may grant that the end of their conduct may be profitable unto them, and aid them to accomplish that which beseemeth their station.- Bahá’u’lláh, Gleanings CX

I ran across this quote again earlier today, and... well... It got me thinking. Which I know, right? That's a good thing, isn't it? That's what sacred text should do.

What hit me, though, was not the similarities and differences between when this was written and today. Nor was it the short prayer at the end. Nor was it even the word "lamentably", which I have contemplated many times over the years.

No, this time it was one phrase, and the countless things we take for granted when reading it. It led me to the very real question, how do we understand the words, "the prevailing order"? What does it refer to? What does it look like? And why would He say it is "lamentably defective"?

We often think of it as the various forms of government, perhaps even the corporations or various church organizations. In general, we think of it in terms of administrative structures. But when I looked up what the phrase meant, what I found surprised me.

A basic dictionary definition says that it refers to the current or generally accepted system, structure, or set of rules guiding a specific environment or society. The phrase signifies what is most common and widespread at a given time.

So, while it can refer to the various administrative structures, it goes far beyond that. It also refers to the framework in which those structures exist.

Let's take one example: the way in which we engage with economics. We think of our various economic activities as transactional. You give me money and I give you an object. Boom. We're done. That's it.

Even if we were to try using a barter system, the very structure is still the same. It's still a one to one system, in which the people involved don't make a difference.

And perhaps that's the problem: the people involved don't make a difference.

In a relational model, the people are more important.

In such a system, the interactions are not begun when you hand me the money, nor are they concluded when I give you the object. Our relationship is integral to the very system itself. It is why in some Indigenous cultures, transactions were made between nations, not individuals. In each culture, everyone gave what they could, and took what they needed. People were at the centre of every interaction. And any abuse of that system was corrected by the entire community.

As I've mentioned before, I'm an artist. And one of the things that has been central to my particular business model is that I don't actually see my customers as customers. I see them as friends.

Most vendors I meet at the various shows tend to see the people attending as little more than walking wallets. Oh, they wouldn't say it like that, but when you watch them and their interactions, it is fairly evident.

Most fashion designers tend to see the models who wear their work as little more than human hangers. To me, they are first and foremost people. I ask their advice about what they would like to wear, and watch their reactions to the different outfits I show them. I don't want them to merely wear an outfit. I want them to shine with the joy of wearing a piece they love.

In both these cases, the people come first. And that is at the heart of my business. I may lose a number of sales by wanting to interact with people who merely want to have over some cash and be done with it, but in the end it is always worth it to me. It helps bring a little bit more warmth into what is otherwise a cold situation.

Another example of something we tend to take for granted is that of sovereignty. It has been said that the greatest tests in the coming times will be the balance between the rights of individuals, institutions, and communities.

In some areas the rights of the individual override the rights and well-being of the community. In other places, the right of the community tramples over the rights of the individual. What we need is to find a balance between these various rights. Whether it's personal sovereignty or the rights of the nation, it is something we need to seriously reconsider.

We are already beginning to understand that the right to free speech does not protect one from the consequences of that speech. The right of personal autonomy does not permit someone to abuse another.

But when it comes to nations, we still have not quite looked at the natural limitations of their rights. Shoghi Effendi, in the World Order of Baha'u'llah, spoke of that international commonwealth, organized along similar lines to the federal government of the United States in its relationship to its independent states, and said, "This commonwealth must, as far as we can visualize it, consist of a world legislature, whose members will, as the trustees of the whole of mankind, ultimately control the entire resources of all the component nations..."

Many see this as quite controversial, but as we continue to witness the abuse of these resources by various parties, we are beginning to discern the necessity of such a step.

What will this do to the global economy? Well, upset it, for one. And totally change how we see the value of these resources.

This will also challenge the very notion of success being defined by "winning against others". It will help us make the move, and transformation, towards a more just system as we begin to replace competition with more collaboration and consultation.

On the micro level, this would also change our work experience, moving us from working under the rigid authoritarian style of leadership to one that values the empowerment and success of every individual within the structure.

In every sphere of life, we would see dramatic and drastic change, for this would effect our style of education, our understanding of what it means to have a service-based healthcare model, how we view farming and agriculture, and many other areas as well. It would truly impact every aspect of our life.

And at the heart of it all? Understanding that the human being is at the very centre of every relationship. Not the corporation. Not the "bottom line". Not the GDP. The human being.

And at the centre of every human being is their heart.

When we begin to understand this, the cautionary statement from 'Abdu'l-Baha, "Beware! Beware! Lest thou offend any heart", takes on an even greater importance.

And then we can begin to see why "the prevailing order" is not just deemed defective by the Most Great pen, but "lamentably defective".

My Profession

For those of you that don't know, I make chainmail for a living. Oh, not the letters you receive asking you to forward them to ten friends. That's a chain letter, not chainmail. Think armour. Except I don't do armour. I make high-end haute couture with chainmail as my medium.

Aside - There was a time many years back when someone asked me to make a football jersey in chainmail for them, complete with their name on the back. Without batting an eyelash, I informed that I could not take such a request, for it was actually illegal. "What", he exclaimed, "but why?" And I answered, "You can't put chain letters in the mail."

I've been making fashion pieces in this medium for far longer than I care to think about, like since the mid-1980s.

Working this long in a field, any field, gives you some insights that I often think are worth sharing. For years, I would listen to those who had them to share, but over the past little while, I've noticed that more and more people are asking me to share my own insights.

Well, here's one that I thought might be relevant to this blog.

One of the questions I get asked a lot, for some reason, is whether I'm an amateur or a professional in my field. No idea why. I guess people just can't imagine someone being a professional artist, or something.

Anyways, it's been a question for a long time. And my response? I'm both.

You see, dear reader, "amateur" comes from the Latin, "amat", to love. An amat-eur is one who does it for love. Which I do.

And while being a professional generally means you make money from it, which I do, it also has the root "to profess", to openly declare.

When talking with new artists, people who are just beginning to find their way in this murky world of ours, I often ask them if they think of themselves as amateurs or professionals. The answers, of course, are mixed.

"Do you do it for love?" Of course, they always answer yes to that one, for no artist that I have ever met began because they hated the medium. Of course they love it.

There you go, I reply. You are an amat-eur, and you should fully embrace that term. That way, if you don't quite make a living at it, at least you will continue to do your art for love.

But what about "professional"? Some say they hope to be. Some say they are, albeit with hesitancy. And a few say that they are with no doubt whatsoever.

In all cases, though, I ask them what it is they are professing.

There was one young woman at a market at a stall near mine. It was a slow day, so all us vendors were chatting. She was new to the market life and asked me if I had any tips for surviving, lasting more than a season or two.

"Seriously?" I asked. "I mean, do you really want a serious answer to that?" She did.

"If I were to take one of your rings, and one of hers and one of hers, and hers, and hers, would you be able to tell me which one was yours?"

And this woman was honest.

"No," she said, with a bit of concern.

"Then you won't make it. As an artist, you need to stand out. You need to be distinctive. People need to see your work and know that it is one of your pieces."

And that was when I talked about what it means to be a professional.

"Every piece you make is a statement to the world. It's a letter from your soul to theirs. What message do you want to convey?"

And again she was honest.

"I'm not sure."

"Great. No problem. It's better to know that you don't know than to make up something quick on the spot. Think about it. And think about how you can convey that message in your medium. That's the secret behind being an artist."

Then she turned the question on me.

"What's your message?"

"Unity", I said, without any hesitation.

She wondered about that, so I explained.

Every ring is like a person. There may be different sizes, different colours, maybe even different metals, but they're all essentially the same. And only when they come together into the mesh of fabric can they create the beauty of the weave. Just like the individuals of humanity.

There is a fascinating passage in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, where He says:

It is incumbent upon each one of you to engage in some occupation—such as a craft, a trade or the like. We have exalted your engagement in such work to the rank of worship of the one true God... (O)ccupy yourselves with what will profit you and others.

And another, in Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, where He says that "arts and sciences" should be "conducive to the well-being and tranquility" of humanity.

When I think about this, and the idea that every piece that I create is a message that I am sending out into the world, my work takes on an entirely new meaning for me. Every piece gets made with the same care and love that I would give to a handwritten letter to a dear friend. My thoughts are turned to the unity of humanity with every link I close. It becomes something of a constant refrain in my work, and I am able to talk about it fluently with every person that comes by. The medium may be my own, but the message is universal.

No matter your career, the opportunity of offering your own statement to the world is there. Just be conscious of it, and do it with awareness and love. And that will turn your career into your profession.

The True Seeker

As many of you know, my friend Samuel and I have been studying the Kitab-i-Iqan together for quite some time. I think it's been over 25 years now. And after a few times of having no clue where we were in His argument, and starting again from the beginning, we began blogging our thoughts on the book some time around 2010. 10 February 2010, to be precise. I just checked. You can click here if you don't believe me.

Recently we finished the section sometimes called the Tablet of the True Seeker. Where that name comes from, I have no idea. It sure doesn't seem to be official, nor does it seem to me to represent what is actually discussed in those seven paragraphs. I mean, it does, I guess, but it seems a bit misleading to me. I'll get to that in a moment.

Oh, and yes, it has taken us that long to get to that point in the book. Why? Well, there's a lot in there to discuss.

To start, though, let's see where those paragraphs fit into His argument, and how they help advance the reader along the path from being a sincere seeker to a confirmed believer. Argument, for clarification, is a line of reasoning given with the aim of demonstrating an idea. It has nothing to do with the anger that is implied in modern colloquial usage.

So, how do we get to these seven paragraphs?

It all begins with a reminder of the importance of detachment, meaning a willingness to consider another perspective. After all, if you're not willing to even consider what the other is saying, what's the point of the conversation? Baha'u'llah then goes on to share some stories of various Manifestations of the past, with a focus on their sufferings, the part of their story arc that they all have in common. He then uses a quote from Jesus to demonstrate the validity of Muhammad. This is fascinating because it, first, helps the uncle of the Bab learn how to read sacred Text in a spiritual way, instead of merely at the literal level. That's important because most of his questions about the Bab are due to a literal understanding of the prophecies surrounding Him. It also allows the uncle to come to a recognition of Muhammad in a manner that would have allowed him to have recognized the Prophet during His own lifetime. And thus ends part one.

Part two of the book begins with a discussion of the nature of creation, and the role of the Manifestations. He talks about their two stations, the first being that of "pure abstraction and essential unity", and the second that of "distinction", due to when and where they were born. Then He begins His discourse on the true seeker, before finally going into His actual proofs of the Bab and His station, around paragraph 220. The proofs, by the way, include proofs from the Qur'an, from the transformation of His followers, and His own life. Then He reluctantly offers some proofs from the traditions, since these were at the heart of the uncle's questions, and concludes the book.

Back to the true seeker.

In the space of seven paragraphs, Baha'u'llah not only describes our role in the search for truth, but also explains just what it is that we are seeking.

It begins with a description of our internal state of being. The person who wishes to embark on such a journey "must, before all else, cleanse and purify his heart... He must purge his breast... and sanctify his soul... That seeker must at all times put his trust in God, must renounce the peoples of the earth, detach himself from the world of dust, and cleave unto Him Who is the Lord of Lords. He must never seek to exalt himself above anyone, must wash away from the tablet of his heart every trace of pride and vainglory, must cling unto patience and resignation, observe silence, and refrain from idle talk..." All of these things have to do with our state of mind and heart. Yes, even refraining from idle talk, for that is more often a reflex that reflects what is going on inside.

The second paragraph looks more at our actions. Following on the topic of talking, Baha'u'llah is a bit more specific, saying we should avoid backbiting, for that tends to be more conscious. We should "be content with little", free from "inordinate desire", and treasure our friendships with good people. We should pray every morning and persevere in our quest. We should provide help, comfort, and support to those who are neglected and downtrodden. We should be kind to animals. We should be ready to offer up our life for God, if it comes to it, and not allow the ridicule or disapproval of others to turn us away from the Faith. We should follow the Golden Rule, and fulfill our promises. We should avoid hanging out with those that commit evil acts and pray they do better. We also need to remember humility, for even some of the greatest promoters of the Cause fell away and violated the Covenant. We must always be cautious to never think ourselves better than others.

The third paragraph confirms that these are only some of the attributes of the true seeker, and that when someone makes efforts in this struggle God will assist them.

Paragraph four continues with a variety of paths. If we look at the first one, it seems to be a description of our emotional state. We start with search, a simple looking. By becoming more passionate about that, we move to striving and on to longing desire. From there we become devoted to what we are seeking, eventually feeling even more and more: love, rapture, and eventually ecstasy. Once all that occurs, then our doubts and misgivings go away and "the lights of knowledge and certitude envelop" us. Then all these blessings will occur. Among these blessings are "a new eye, a new ear, a new heart, and a new mind". We will see the world in a different way. Rather than focusing on the problems of the world, we might notice them, but our attention will be on what is being built up, instead. We will hear things differently, feel things in a new manner, and our mind will think of thoughts we never considered before. We will see within everything a sign of God. Rather than mere knowledge, we will find ourselves filled with "absolute certitude". Knowledge, by the way, is being aware of all the mathematical details, chord progressions and relationships between the notes of a piece of music by Mozart. Certitude is knowing that it is beautiful.

Paragraph five begins to describe the astonishing wonders we will discover when we achieve this state. We will be able to sense the "fragrance of God" no matter where it is revealed. Everything will lead us to a greater understanding of God, no matter how small or insignificant the object may be. We will instantly know the difference between truth and falsehood, and immediately sense the difference between the signs of God and those various ways of humanity. All of this will lead us to the "City of Certitude", and allow us to enter its gates. He then goes on to describe a little of what we will find in that City, reminding us that entering it is not the goal. Exploring it is.

Paragraph six continues by telling us just how attached we will become to this City, never for a moment considering leaving it, and reminding us that even so remarkable a place still needs to be occasionally "renewed and readorned". And it will be, once every thousand years or so, which is also remarkable, considering how often we need to renew and readorn our own house.

Then, in paragraph seven, He stops speaking in analogies. He speaks, as Jesus promised, plainly. This City of God? It is "the Word of God revealed in every age and dispensation". Like a city, it is a haven for people in times of distress. We can live within it. We can explore it to our heart's content, discovering more and more wonders with every passing moment. This City is the Pentateuch, the Gospel, the Qur'an, the Bhagavad Gita, the Upanishads, the Zend Avesta, the Bayan, and all the other sacred Books and teachings throughout the world. These are the places where we find true knowledge, safe from wandering in the wilderness of error. And just in case we think that only the latest one is worthy of study, remember that Baha'u'llah just used the Gospel to prove the cause of Muhammad. As He says at the very end there, "All the guidance, the blessings, the learning, the understanding, the faith, and certitude, conferred upon all that is in heaven and on earth, are hidden and treasured within these Cities." "Cities", it should be noted, is plural, not singular.

So astonishing. So amazing. How can we not fall in love with the sacred Books?

And why does He share all this here? To get us to begin to appreciate these various volumes of the Word of God? Nope. To use them.

All of this is but the prelude to His using these words to prove the cause of the Bab to one who was filled with doubt.

Even the greatest of tools are of no avail if they are not put to use.

And now I have 89 articles left to fulfill my promise to write 100 articles by the end of the year. I would love to read your comments, not only this article, but on anything else you think I should address this year.

Celebrate His Praise

I want to go back to the beginning of Gleanings XIV:

"...magnify, before the entire creation, the name of God, and celebrate His praise, in such wise that all created things may be regenerated and made new."

What does this mean? What does it look like in our daily life?

Well, what does it mean to magnify something? Make it bigger, or more accurately make it appear larger than it is. Hmm. How could we possibly make "the name of God" larger than it actually is? That seems kind of daunting. Perhaps the Guardian was using the more archaic definition, to extol and glorify. Ok. That seems more reasonable.  But maybe the modern definition also has something to it, in that it calls attention to something that is easily overlooked.

Let's try that for our first step. After all, it seems that most people overlook the various names of God in creation these days.  We tend to forget about things like compassion, generosity, mercy, forgiveness. We even see a growing disregard for knowledge and wisdom. Perhaps we really do need to extol the Name of God and make it more evident for everyone to see it. Sounds good.

Actually, all this sounds a lot like virtue praising. I never, for example, told my son "Oh, you're such a good kid." Instead, I praised an action he did, and then named the virtue he was demonstrating. "Wow. When you gave that child a grape, you showed such generosity. Well done. That's great."

And by praising the virtue, aren't we praising a name of God? God, the Most Generous?

Thinking about it many years later, I realize that this made the other children in the area, and probably some adults, too, more aware of generosity as a virtue. It magnified it in their sight. Hmm. Never quite realized that until just now.

But what about the second part? "Celebrate His praise"?

Are we celebrating Baha'u'llah's praise of God? Or perhaps our own? Both?

What if we read it as if "His praise" is the object of celebration? That would mean that every time we encounter the praise of God, for "His" seems to refer to God, we should celebrate it. What would that look like, though?

I was talking with my wife about this and realized that in our society we generally don't celebrate the praise of God. Most people tend to ridicule it. Just imagine the born-again Christian who yells out "Praise God" every five minutes.  It comes across as a cliche these days. We are so inundated with those folk who are fanatical in their belief, or at least appear that way, that we tend to deride them when they praise God. In fact, we encounter it so often with those for whom God is an empty word on their lips that it is hard to tell when it is authentic.

Here it seems that Baha'u'llah is telling us we should celebrate it. Why?

Because God is worthy of praise, and the recognition of that is, in itself, worthy of celebration. "Good job! You recognize the importance of praising God. That's great."

Now, it's worth noting that there is a way we should be offering this celebration. We need to do it in such a manner "that all created things may be regenerated and made new." If we do it in a manic way, or a fanatical way, or even worse, in a hypocritical way, then those around us tend not to be "regenerated and made new." They tend to be turned off. Just witness the eye rolls that occur.

My wife made the comment that it was a like a mathematical equation. She initially likened it to addition. "Magnifying His name + celebrating the praise of God = everything being regenerated and made new". But that didn't feel quite right to either of us. So we added a third addend, "in such wise", but that didn't quite feel right either. Then we took that last one and put it in as a multiplier, instead.

(Magnify His name + celebrate His praise) * (in such wise) = Everything being regenerated and made new.

Why was this last step important? Because the manner in which we do that has a huge effect on the result. If we do it in a positive way, one that resonates with our listener and touches their heart, then the magnification and celebration have an even greater effect.

However, if we do it in a way that turns them off, if we come across as a fanatic or even manic in our behaviour, then the negative effect is that much greater, too.

Now, when I go back and re-read this extract from the Writings, it makes so much more sense. Call attention to the Name of God, no matter where it is found. Continually remind people of these virtues in the world. Celebrate when you hear people praising God, for it is reminding people of the true spirit that animates the world around us. But also be careful. Remember not to overstep the bounds of moderation, in case you accidentally turn people off. Use wisdom, and ensure that your actions are helping reshape people's concept of these ideas to something more positive than we usually see. We are so used to encountering fanaticism when people speak of religion that at its very mention, people tend to turn away. We can help change that, and thus help make the world new.

Bewilderment

I mentioned in the previous post that I was looking at a Tablet from Baha'u'llah during this Fast, but I didn't mention which on it was. My apologies. You can find it in Gleanings, number 14. Now I'm not going to analyze it and go over the entire piece in this blog. Not this time around. Instead, I'm going to look at passages that evoke memories for me, connections. This will be more self-reflective, based on the passage.

Today the part that really struck me was this:

Methinks that thou hast halted and movest not upon My Tablet. Could the brightness of the Divine Countenance have bewildered thee, or the idle talk of the froward filled thee with grief and paralyzed thy movement?

While it is easy to focus on the second part, the "idle talk of the froward", especially in these days of fast food media, I want to look at that first part, how the brightness can bewilder us.

As you can imagine, having spent so many years, decades at this point, studying the Iqan, I tend to go back to it quite a bit, so why should this be any different? In paragraph 27 of that book, Baha'u'llah makes an interesting point that is often overlooked. He says that He is sharing but "a dewdrop out of the fathomless ocean... so that the overpowering majesty of the Word of God may not prevent" us from recognition.

Here He is addressing the "Most Exalted Pen", and recognizes that it might be stilled due to the "brightness of the Divine Countenance". If the Pen itself could be bewildered, what hope have we?

I often reflect on how I came to recognition, what teaching the faith looks like to those who are not Baha'i, and how we can be more effective in spreading the vision given to us by Baha'u'llah.

As to the first part, I have always been fascinated with religion, ever since I was a wee little lad. I loved the stories, the regalia, the ceremony. But most of all the stories. It didn't matter which religion I was studying, it was the books that captivated me.

So, really, it's not difficult for me to get what Baha'u'llah is saying in that passage in the Iqan, for I can very easily imagine being so in love with the sacred Books of my faith that I would be blinded to anything else. In fact, I have a number of dear friends who are so in love with the teachings of Jesus and the Gospel that they could never look at anything else. And Baha'u'llah seems to recognize that. He understands it and forgives us for that. After all, how could He fault us for being blinded by "the overpowering majesty of the Word of God"? It's right there in the description: "overpowering".

This passage in the Tablet I'm meditating on these days is an echo of that. The light shining from the Word of God is so bright that it can be startling. And what happens? Usually we freeze. I can easily imagine the Divine Pen being shocked into stillness due to the "overpowering majesty of the Word of God". I can just picture the amused grin on Baha'u'llah's face as He writes this, filled with love and understanding. "Did the bright light surprise you? Alright, but don't let that stop you."

The next line, though, is a bit more of a warning.

That idle talk of those who just want to be contrary? Be careful not to let that stop your movement. Yes, we can grieve at the plight of the suffering, but that is precisely why we move. It is because of the grief we feel for them that we move to alleviate their suffering in the most effective way possible. But don't allow it to paralyze you.

Yes, the brilliance of the Writings does bewilder me. And yes, I do feel grief as I read the news from around this globe of ours. But it for precisely those reasons that I have made it a point to take the time and write about it more and show how these glorious Words can move us. That is why I have made it a point to write 100 articles this year alone, of which I have only 91 to go. And seeing as it's nearly Naw Ruz, I've fallen a bit behind.

Springtime

"The Divine Springtime has come..."

That has to be one of my favourite phrases. The rest of that Tablet is pretty amazing, too, what with such passages as "Arise before the nations of the earth, and arm thyself with the power of this Most Great Name..." But I want to focus on the spring for now. I'll look at the rest of the Tablet over the next few days.

As my wife said so well, spring is indelibly intertwined with Baha'u'llah for me. And it's not just the roses of the Ridvan garden and all the celebrations at this time of year. No, it's more to do with the overall reality of spring where I live.

We often talk about spring as a time of rebirth, renewal, new beginnings, and so forth. We love to look at the promise of spring. But spring is so much more than that.

It is a time of thawing here in Canada. It is filled with mud and slush, delightfully warm days followed swiftly by a harsh winter storm of unbearable magnitude. It can reek of all the melting things that had lain hidden under the snows for far too long. And in light of that, it is also, sometimes fortunately, a time of head colds and dribbly, stuffy noses.

Yes, the promise is there, but we have to wade through all sorts of things to get to it.

And that, to me, is one of the reasons that I am so enthralled with this season, why it reminds me so much of Baha'u'llah and His promised "Golden Age".

As some of you may know, I'm just finishing up a book on the Iqan for the Australian Baha'i Publishing Trust, in which I look at the various methods Baha'u'llah uses to help the uncle of the Bab move from being a sincere seeker to a confirmed believer. One of those methods is story-telling. But His form of story-telling isn't always obvious. Here's an example from the book, not only to tease you into wanting to buy a copy, but because I think it highlights what I think of when I think of spring. It's in relation to this passage from paragraph 3 of the Iqan:

How many, both high and low, have, at all times, yearningly awaited the advent of the Manifestations of God in the sanctified persons of His chosen Ones. How often have they expected His coming, how frequently have they prayed that the breeze of divine mercy might blow, and the promised Beauty step forth from behind the veil of concealment, and be made manifest to all the world. And whensoever the portals of grace did open, and the clouds of divine bounty did rain upon mankind, and the light of the Unseen did shine above the horizon of celestial might, they all denied Him, and turned away from His face—the face of God Himself.

(Okay, now from my commentary)

We can all see this in the history of our religion, but have we paused to consider what this description would look like in a literal way?

Imagine a group of people standing around a courtyard, waiting for someone to arrive. The friends are milling about, eager for a special person to show up. They have heard all sorts of wonderful stories about this individual, how incredible things are supposed to happen after they appear. They have heard rumours of how the winds anticipate their coming, how the earth will be revived, how the flowers will blossom forth. And what happens? The outer door to the courtyard opens, everyone falls silent in eager anticipation, and it suddenly begins to rain. An individual steps forth in the unexpected downpour, but most of the people have already scattered. The clouds above open and a shaft of sunlight shines on this radiant soul, but unfortunately many have already fled. Some of those who are still there refuse to believe that this is the person they awaited, for they are expecting a wonderful summer day, not a spring storm. Things are supposed to be new and incredible, and all they are doing is standing around getting wet. Obviously, they say, this cannot be the one for whom they awaited.

What they fail to realize is that it is the water and the sunlight that bring forth the next generation of flowers. It is exactly this sort of weather that revivifies the earth after the long and bleak winter. Without the muddy days of spring, there would be no summer flowers.

(And back to our regularly scheduled blog.)

Yes, the Divine Springtime has come, but with it has come all the storms and dreariness, too. The trick, though, is to look past all that and keep our eyes focused on the beauty of the summer soon to arrive.

We can look at all the problems occurring in the world right now and easily be overwhelmed. Of course our hearts are breaking at the untold and uncounted suffering. We don't wish that for anyone. Of course we want to work to mitigate the pain and offer our loving consolation and support to those that need it. But we must keep our eyes clearly focused on the future, for that Divine Springtime has come. And we know that the Divine Summer is on its way.

Spring is a time of promise, not fulfillment. It is a time of hard work, preparing the soil and sowing the seeds. It is a time of storm clouds and blizzards, and ever-lengthening days. 

It is a time when some will look at the melting snows, sad in their slumping sorrows, and they will yearn for those past days of glory, when those white crystalline structures gleamed and glistened in their beauty under the winter sun, casting their ephemeral rainbows around for all to see. They will strive to try and recapture that fading delicate grace, unaware that the very season works against them.

Our role in this is not to work our tail off trying to convince people otherwise, nor to help them rebuild those decaying edifices. Our job is to help them envision the coming glory, that beauty that is more than merely ephemeral. Our job is prepare for those blossoms yet to come.

Spring is a time of promise, as I've said. It is also a time of work. It is a time of thawing and greater sunlight, more challenges and surprising changes, and hard work. Did I mention the work? It's not easy, but it will get easier as more time passes.

So, yeah. Spring really is intertwined with Baha'u'llah for me.

(92 to go)

Why God?

"Papa," Shoghi asked me one day, "why do we believe in God when we can't prove His existence?"

What a great question.

Of course, I misinterpreted it, at first. I had thought it might be a question of atheism, but no, it wasn't. It was more of a question of what it means to believe, and how this belief can be developed without actual proof.

Anyways, as per usual, once I got on the right track, my response, which was developed from a niggling intuition, surprised me.

To start though, I wanted to look at one of my favorite quote from Baha'u'llah: Prayers and Meditations, LXXV.

All-praise be to Thee, O Lord, my God! I know not how to sing Thy praise, how to describe Thy glory, how to call upon Thy Name. If I call upon Thee by Thy Name, the All-Possessing, I am compelled to recognize that He Who holdeth in His hand the immediate destinies of all created things is but a vassal dependent upon Thee, and is the creation of but a word proceeding from Thy mouth. And if I proclaim Thee by the name of Him Who is the All-Compelling, I readily discover that He is but a suppliant fallen upon the dust, awe-stricken by Thy dreadful might, Thy sovereignty and power. And if I attempt to describe Thee by glorifying the oneness of Thy Being, I soon realize that such a conception is but a notion which mine own fancy hath woven, and that Thou hast ever been immeasurably exalted above the vain imaginations which the hearts of men have devised.

Ok. This is just the first of four paragraphs, but what a beginning. And in fact, it is a beginning that had long confused me. I mean, what does He mean when He says "All-praise be to Thee"? Then I began to look at the description of humanity and God in the Baha'i Writings, and realized that all the praise-worthy qualities that we can exhibit are actually our various attempts at getting to know God better.

When we contribute money to the various funds, or buy a poor person a cup of coffee, we are showing generosity, trying to get to know God, the All-generous, better. In the short daily obligatory prayer, we say that we are created to "know God and to worship" Him. This, as I have said many times over the years, is not just a good idea, but to me a factual statement of own creation. It is not that I should attempt to know God and worship Him, but that I actually do this, whether or not I am aware of it. And if I am aware of it, and striving to know and worship Him better, then well and good, or weller and gooder. You see, I can look at any action I may take, and see it as an attempt to better know and worship our common Creator.

And so, given all this, it seems to me a tautology. It really is true that anything that is praisewothy is, by definition, of God. I may praise a mirror for shining the light of the sun, but it is really the sun that deserves that initial credit. And while the mirror may merit a touch of praise for its ability to reflect, without the sun, there is nothing to reflect.

But let's move on.

In the next sentence, Baha'u'llah is saying that He does not know how to praise God, or how to describe Him. He doesn't even know how to call upon His Name. If Baha'u'llah, a Messenger of God, for His sake, doesn't know how to do this, what hope do I have? "The All-Possessing" is just a vassal dependent on God? The All-Possessing possesses everything! How can it be dependent on God? And He who compels all falls in the dust before God? These are very heavy concepts.

So what do I make of all this?

Simple, really.

It seems to me that everything Baha'u'llah does helps raise our vision. Muhammad, for example, said “Love for one’s country is a part of faith”. Baha'u'llah has raised this to "It is not for him to pride himself who loveth his own country, but rather for him who loveth the whole world. The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."

Now, what does this have to do with God?

Looking chronologically at the Judeo-Christian traditions, it becomes a bit more obvious how this progression goes. I'm sure it works in other traditions, but I'm going to stick with the Jewish - Christian - Islam - Baha'i chronology.

In the Tanakh, the Jewish sacred Texts, we begin by seeing God, in Genesis, as "the old Man in the garden". I figure we respected our elders, so God must be really old. Got it. Makes sense.

But is it accurate? Well, in a sense. But not really.

So we move on.

As we progress through the Tanakh, God becomes the voice speaking to the Prophets. He isn't really an old man, but something more. In fact, by moving "off-stage", if you will, we get a higher sense of this God. He is removed from, and above, our perceptions. It takes a special prophet to even hear His Voice. And so we get a better understanding of God.

But again this isn't quite accurate.

Now we move on to Jesus. If you really want to know God, want to know more about Him, look at Jesus. Look at the Manifestations of God. It is no wonder that many Christians see Jesus as God. Again, true in a sense, but not quite accurate.

Muhammad comes along and elevates our vision once more. If we really want to get a better understanding of God, we can see Him as the embodiment of the highest virtues. We understand generosity, so God is the Most Generous. We can relate to mercy, and appreciate it, so God must be the All-Merciful.

And now, Baha'u'llah comes along and says, "Well, yes, but not quite." He, once again, raises our vision of the reality of God.

But what does all this have to do with my son's original question? Why do we believe in a God Whose existence cannot be proven?

The simple answer, to me, is that it is useful, like math.

Wait. What? What does math have to do with it? I know. I know. Tangents all over the place.

Well, look. When we began with math, as a human race, we basically knew how to count. Simple addition and subtraction. Then, as we developed, we began to learn about multiplication and division. But in reality, numbers don't tangibly exist. They have an existence beyond the physical reality, just as God, in 'Abdu'l-Baha's words, emanates physical existence.

Today, we have calculus, imaginary numbers, quantum reality, and all these other things that we can only begin to really understand, but the uses we have found for these various knowledges seems to know no bounds. We can never truly "know" numbers, as they are, by definition, infinite. Similarly, we can never really know God, or prove His existence. But what we can do with what little we do know seems to know no bounds. We can never really look at all of mathematics in its entirety, we can never really 'prove' it, but we know a lot about how they work. And similarly, we can never really understand God, but the more we learn about Him, the more we can use that knowledge to our benefit, and the benefit of the world.

And so again, why do we believe in God when we cannot prove His existence? Because proof of existence is not a condition for use.

I cannot prove that prayer works, but I know that when I pray, my life just seems to be better. I cannot prove that my wife loves me, but when I trust that it is so, life just seems to be better. There are many things that I cannot prove, but when I trust in them, well, life just seems to be better.

 

...and with that, 93 to go.