Wednesday, December 28, 2016

For Hope and Understanding: Looking from Today towards Tomorrow

The other day we were asked what we should consult on at our next Feast. I asked the other members of the group what concerns anyone had seen or heard about that might bear upon this question. Nobody had any particular thoughts, and I commented that there was one issue that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole: the concerns regarding the state of the world today. The group quickly picked this theme up and decided that we, as a community, would discuss the state of affairs in the world, and a possible response to help raise the levels of hope in our friends. Since I had "brought it up", I was asked if I could draw upon a few selected writings from the Guardian to present to our community. The following is the letter I wrote to the Secretary of our Assembly. My wife thought you, dear Reader, might appreciate it, so here it is, that subject I wasn't going to touch with that ubiquitous ten-foot pole.

* * * * *

Here are a few extracts from the letter from the Guardian found in The World Order of Baha'u'llah, entitled "The Unfoldment of World Civilization".

As you know, this whole series of letters arose from the trials and tribulations that revolved around Covenant-breaking in the American community at the time. It was from this devastating crisis that took up so much of the time and energy of the community that the Guardian was able expound and further elucidate his thoughts and insights on the glory, scope and effect of the Administrative Order of Baha'u'llah. This last letter in the series was revealed in 1936, a time so fraught with concern for the security and well-being of the planet and which eventually led to the outbreak of World War 2. After the introductory remarks, with which he begins to talk about the importance of conforming to Baha'i law, the maturing of humanity and the necessity of unity, he then goes into describing the situation that must unfold, which seems highly relevant today.
For the revelation of so great a favor a period of intense turmoil and wide-spread suffering would seem to be indispensable. Resplendent as has been the Age that has witnessed the inception of the Mission with which Bahá'u'lláh has been entrusted, the interval which must elapse ere that Age yields its choicest fruit must, it is becoming increasingly apparent, be overshadowed by such moral and social gloom as can alone prepare an unrepentant humanity for the prize she is destined to inherit.

Into such a period we are now steadily and irresistibly moving. Amidst the shadows which are increasingly gathering about us we can faintly discern the glimmerings of Bahá'u'lláh's unearthly sovereignty appearing fitfully on the horizon of history. To us, the "generation of the half-light," living at a time which may be designated as the period of the incubation of the World Commonwealth envisaged by Bahá'u'lláh, has been assigned a task whose high privilege we can never sufficiently appreciate, and the arduousness of which we can as yet but dimly recognize. We may well believe, we who are called upon to experience the operation of the dark forces destined to unloose a flood of agonizing afflictions, that the darkest hour that must precede the dawn of the Golden Age of our Faith has not yet struck. Deep as is the gloom that already encircles the world, the afflictive ordeals which that world is to suffer are still in preparation, nor can their blackness be as yet imagined. We stand on the threshold of an age whose convulsions proclaim alike the death-pangs of the old order and the birth-pangs of the new. Through the generating influence of the Faith announced by Bahá'u'lláh this New World Order may be said to have been conceived. We can, at the present moment, experience its stirrings in the womb of a travailing age -- an age waiting for the appointed hour at which it can cast its burden and yield its fairest fruit.
After going into detail on the collapse of various institutions, he then describes the moral conditions of his day, pointing out how they themselves are a sign of what must come.

There can be no doubt that the decline of religion as a social force, of which the deterioration of religious institutions is but an external phenomenon, is chiefly responsible for so grave, so conspicuous an evil. "Religion," writes Bahá'u'lláh, "is the greatest of all means for the establishment of order in the world and for the peaceful contentment of all that dwell therein. The weakening of the pillars of religion hath strengthened the hands of the ignorant and made them bold and arrogant. Verily I say, whatsoever hath lowered the lofty station of religion hath increased the waywardness of the wicked, and the result cannot be but anarchy." "Religion," He, in another Tablet, has stated, "is a radiant light and an impregnable stronghold for the protection and welfare of the peoples of the world, for the fear of God impelleth man to hold fast to that which is good, and shun all evil. Should the lamp of religion be obscured, chaos and confusion will ensue, and the lights of fairness, of justice, of tranquillity and peace cease to shine." "Know thou," He, in yet another connection, has written, "that they who are truly wise have likened the world unto the human temple. As the body of man needeth a garment to clothe it, so the body of mankind must needs be adorned with the mantle of justice and wisdom. Its robe is the Revelation vouchsafed unto it by God."

No wonder, therefore, that when, as a result of human perversity, the light of religion is quenched in men's hearts, and the divinely appointed Robe, designed to adorn the human temple, is deliberately discarded, a deplorable decline in the fortunes of humanity immediately sets in, bringing in its wake all the evils which a wayward soul is capable of revealing. The perversion of human nature, the degradation of human conduct, the corruption and dissolution of human institutions, reveal themselves, under such circumstances, in their worst and most revolting aspects. Human character is debased, confidence is shaken, the nerves of discipline are relaxed, the voice of human conscience is stilled, the sense of decency and shame is obscured, conceptions of duty, of solidarity, of reciprocity and loyalty are distorted, and the very feeling of peacefulness, of joy and of hope is gradually extinguished...

...The recrudescence of religious intolerance, of racial animosity, and of patriotic arrogance; the increasing evidences of selfishness, of suspicion, of fear and of fraud; the spread of terrorism, of lawlessness, of drunkenness and of crime; the unquenchable thirst for, and the feverish pursuit after, earthly vanities, riches and pleasures; the weakening of family solidarity; the laxity in parental control; the lapse into luxurious indulgence; the irresponsible attitude towards marriage and the consequent rising tide of divorce; the degeneracy of art and music, the infection of literature, and the corruption of the press; the extension of the influence and activities of those "prophets of decadence" who advocate companionate marriage, who preach the philosophy of nudism, who call modesty an intellectual fiction, who refuse to regard the procreation of children as the sacred and primary purpose of marriage, who denounce religion as an opiate of the people, who would, if given free rein, lead back the human race to barbarism, chaos, and ultimate extinction -- these appear as the outstanding characteristics of a decadent society, a society that must either be reborn or perish.

'Recrudescence', as you know, means the revival of a condition that was previously thought stable. And so, while some of the signs of instability and moral decay may have been in recession for a time, their root causes were never actually dealt with, and they have returned with full force.

The passionate and violent happenings that have, in recent years, strained to almost the point of complete breakdown the political and economic structure of society are too numerous and complex to attempt, within the limitations of this general survey, to arrive at an adequate estimate of their character. Nor have these tribulations, grievous as they have been, seemed to have reached their climax, and exerted the full force of their destructive power. The whole world, wherever and however we survey it, offers us the sad and pitiful spectacle of a vast, an enfeebled, and moribund organism, which is being torn politically and strangulated economically by forces it has ceased to either control or comprehend.

Once he has outlined and clarified the issues and concerns with which we are faced, he then guides us to the hope that lies beyond the immediate despair which is distracting so many of our friends and acquaintances. He points out the futility of engaging in partisan politics and stresses the vital importance of unity.

Unification of the whole of mankind is the hall-mark of the stage which human society is now approaching. Unity of family, of tribe, of city-state, and nation have been successively attempted and fully established. World unity is the goal towards which a harassed humanity is striving. Nation-building has come to an end. The anarchy inherent in state sovereignty is moving towards a climax. A world, growing to maturity, must abandon this fetish, recognize the oneness and wholeness of human relationships, and establish once for all the machinery that can best incarnate this fundamental principle of its life.

He concludes with a description of some of the details involved in this world unity:

The unity of the human race, as envisaged by Bahá'u'lláh, implies the establishment of a world commonwealth in which all nations, races, creeds and classes are closely and permanently united, and in which the autonomy of its state members and the personal freedom and initiative of the individuals that compose them are definitely and completely safeguarded. 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, and will enact such laws as shall be required to regulate the life, satisfy the needs and adjust the relationships of all races and peoples. A world executive, backed by an international Force, will carry out the decisions arrived at, and apply the laws enacted by, this world legislature, and will safeguard the organic unity of the whole commonwealth. A world tribunal will adjudicate and deliver its compulsory and final verdict in all and any disputes that may arise between the various elements constituting this universal system. A mechanism of world inter-communication will be devised, embracing the whole planet, freed from national hindrances and restrictions, and functioning with marvellous swiftness and perfect regularity. A world metropolis will act as the nerve center of a world civilization, the focus towards which the unifying forces of life will converge and from which its energizing influences will radiate. A world language will either be invented or chosen from among the existing languages and will be taught in the schools of all the federated nations as an auxiliary to their mother tongue. A world script, a world literature, a uniform and universal system of currency, of weights and measures, will simplify and facilitate intercourse and understanding among the nations and races of mankind. In such a world society, science and religion, the two most potent forces in human life, will be reconciled, will cooperate, and will harmoniously develop. The press will, under such a system, while giving full scope to the expression of the diversified views and convictions of mankind, cease to be mischievously manipulated by vested interests, whether private or public, and will be liberated from the influence of contending governments and peoples. The economic resources of the world will be organized, its sources of raw materials will be tapped and fully utilized, its markets will be coordinated and developed, and the distribution of its products will be equitably regulated.

National rivalries, hatreds, and intrigues will cease, and racial animosity and prejudice will be replaced by racial amity, understanding and cooperation. The causes of religious strife will be permanently removed, economic barriers and restrictions will be completely abolished, and the inordinate distinction between classes will be obliterated. Destitution on the one hand, and gross accumulation of ownership on the other, will disappear. The enormous energy dissipated and wasted on war, whether economic or political, will be consecrated to such ends as will extend the range of human inventions and technical development, to the increase of the productivity of mankind, to the extermination of disease, to the extension of scientific research, to the raising of the standard of physical health, to the sharpening and refinement of the human brain, to the exploitation of the unused and unsuspected resources of the planet, to the prolongation of human life, and to the furtherance of any other agency that can stimulate the intellectual, the moral, and spiritual life of the entire human race.

A world federal system, ruling the whole earth and exercising unchallengeable authority over its unimaginably vast resources, blending and embodying the ideals of both the East and the West, liberated from the curse of war and its miseries, and bent on the exploitation of all the available sources of energy on the surface of the planet, a system in which Force is made the servant of Justice, whose life is sustained by its universal recognition of one God and by its allegiance to one common Revelation -- such is the goal towards which humanity, impelled by the unifying forces of life, is moving.

In these words, so evocative of where we are heading, we can see the signs of how far we have come in the few decades since they were penned. From here, though, to better understand our role in responding to these crises, I find myself turning to the very last paragraphs in his letter written just a few years later, in the very heart of World War 2, "The Promised Day is Come":

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.

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.
As I read these last words, I am reminded of our supreme duty at this time of engaging ourselves wholeheartedly in the current Plan of the Universal House of Justice, a Plan that has so simply told us what it is that we need to do. These previous words of the Guardian, though, help me better understand the importance of what it is that we are doing, and give me great hope for what lies ahead.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Detachment from Heaven, Part 2

"No man shall attain the shores of the ocean of true understanding except he be detached from all that is in heaven and on earth."

Time to think about this one again, dear Reader. As you may have noticed from the previous post, my intention is to better understand this detachment "from all that is in heaven", but my focus earlier seemed to be all around yet more aspects of things that are of earth, such as the community and the like.

It seems that a better understanding of this aspect of the phrase requires a better understanding of how Baha'u'llah uses the term "heaven" in His Writings.

The first thing that comes to my mind is found later in the same book as the quote above, the Kitab-i-Iqan. He says, "in every instance, He hath given the term 'heaven' a special meaning". Well, doesn't that just make it easy? Every instance, eh? According to Ocean, that means 129 meanings in the Kitab-i-Iqan, 40 more in Gems of Divine Mysteries, 127 in The Summons of the Lord of Hosts, and you get the general idea.

Where to start?

You know, before I begin, I should probably apologize for my approach here. I'm kind of going with the stream of consciousness thing here, or perhaps stream of unconsciousness may be more appropriate. I get an idea, type it down, look it up, think about it, meditate a bit, type up my thoughts, and seem to be going in circles. I mean, this isn't a scholarly thesis or anything, but just a bit of taste of my own personal exploration of this vast ocean. Who knows, though, it may just work in the end. I guess we'll find out.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Where to begin?

Well, given what I see here, with so many possible meanings, it might help to begin to categorize the various references. For example, some are literal, such as in the quote, "they are the waves of one sea, the drops of one river, the stars of one heaven..." Others seem to refer to an elevated station, as in the quotes, "the heaven of the grace of God," or "the heaven of the bounty of God". Still other times it appears as a symbol of the source of Revelation, as in "the Maid of Heaven".

Interesting as these are, none of these seem to be applicable in the context of this quote.

No, what seems to be the most consistent context, and relevant here, is when it is used as a contrast, such as "heaven and earth".

But now, as I look at this quote again, "all that is in heaven and on earth", I am reminded of another quote, this time from the Book of Revelation. "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away..."

What does that mean? "The first heaven and the first earth were passed away"? Hmmm. Well, Baha'u'llah said that "through the rise of these Luminaries of God the world is made new", and even 'Abdu'l-Baha said, "the new heaven and the new earth are come."

Ok. Now I feel like some things are beginning to come together. How does this sound?

I think I may have been distracted by looking at "heaven" on its own. Perhaps I should focus, instead, on "true understanding".

Time for the stream of consciousness stuff again.

So much of the Kitab-i-Iqan in part 1 deals with re-examining what we already know. At no point does He tell us to forget what we know, but rather to look at it again. "Consider the past..." "Ponder for a moment, and reflect..." Over and over again throughout that book He tells us to do this. In fact, He helps us in this regard, pointing out what we already know, but in a slightly different way than we are usually aware of it. My favorite example of this is when He talks about Noah. Here I go with a seeming tangent, but please bear with me. It's how my mind works, and I think it may lead us somewhere useful. (If not, sorry.)

In paragraph 7 of this book, He recounts the following;
Among the Prophets was Noah. For nine hundred and fifty years He prayerfully exhorted His people and summoned them to the haven of security and peace. None, however, heeded His call. Each day they inflicted on His blessed person such pain and suffering that no one believed He could survive. How frequently they denied Him, how malevolently they hinted their suspicion against Him! Thus it hath been revealed: "And as often as a company of His people passed by Him, they derided Him. To them He said: 'Though ye scoff at us now, we will scoff at you hereafter even as ye scoff at us. In the end ye shall know.'" Long afterward, He several times promised victory to His companions and fixed the hour thereof. But when the hour struck, the divine promise was not fulfilled. This caused a few among the small number of His followers to turn away from Him, and to this testify the records of the best-known books. These you must certainly have perused; if not, undoubtedly you will. Finally, as stated in books and traditions, there remained with Him only forty or seventy-two of His followers. At last from the depth of His being He cried aloud: "Lord! Leave not upon the land a single dweller from among the unbelievers."
A couple things stand out here to me. First, if I were talking about Noah I would undoubtedly talk about the flood and the ark. But I notice that Baha'u'llah doesn't. It seems that He is not concerned with what makes each Manifestation unique, but rather what They all have in common. Second, He leaves an ambiguity for us, when He mentions that Noah had "forty or seventy-two of His followers". These numbers come from two different sources, and it seems as if He is not concerned which is historically accurate. In fact, it truly does not matter. So rather than alienating one or another of the groups of people who insist on one of those numbers, He merely states that both are recorded. He does not allow us to get distracted by trivialities.

Why is this important? Because Baha'u'llah is giving us a new vision of Noah, in the context of some of the other Manifestations. If we become distracted by trivial details, then we put up a barrier between ourselves and this new vision that He is trying to impart.

It occurs to me that He is doing the same thing with everything else.

The old idea of heaven was a kingdom of clouds and angels, somewhere above the clouds, with God sitting on His throne. Baha'u'llah's conception of heaven, in this regard, is often cited as "nearness to God".

Was the old vision wrong? No, not really. I mean, sure, it wasn't physically accurate, but it was a good metaphor. Above the clouds we are not beset by the tempestuous storms. We can more clearly see the sun, since the clouds do not get in the way. We are, in a sense, closer to God. It was a good metaphor for the time, and still has its uses.

No matter how we understand anything, our understanding is necessarily limited. We are human. We can always get a better, clearer, more complete understanding of anything. This is, in fact, the basis of science and scientific research. We are always pushing the boundaries of what we know, pressing those borders further into the recesses of the darkness of obscurity, trying to get a clearer understanding of the world around us.

To better accomplish this in the realms of the spiritual, we must allow Baha'u'llah to shape our vision.

The old idea of heaven was useful, but limited. Our own understanding of anything is necessarily limited. But the vision offered to us by Baha'u'llah can help us see more, if we but allow Him to share His vision with us. After all, it's up to us. He has already shared it. We just need to be open to seeing it, and not allowing our limited understanding to stand in the way. Then, and only then, can we better appreciate the "shores of the ocean of true understanding".

If I allow my limited understanding of heaven to stand as a barrier between me and this new idea, then I am only limiting myself.

Baha'u'llah came to share this new vision with us. "Then was the door of the Kingdom", said 'Abdu'l-Baha, "set wide and the light of a new heaven on earth revealed unto seeing eyes."

Now it seems to me that the reason I was having trouble with my initial question was that my question was the wrong one. It's not the question of heaven that I should struggle with, but rather that of "true understanding".

Being "detached from all that is in heaven and on earth" seems to me to refer more to my own understanding of these concepts. By recognizing that these ideas can represent far more than I have ever dreamed opens up new vistas for me on this beach upon which we stand, at the edge of that "ocean of true understanding". It helps me realize that there are many more beaches, many more perspectives, many more areas for exploration than I could ever conceive. Living at the edge of the Pacific Ocean, I realize that "the shores of the ocean of the Pacific" could refer to the beach near my home in Victoria, BC, Canada, or it could refer to a small inlet on the western shores of Mexico. It might mean a stretch of rocks on the edge of Japan, or a volcanic beach of black sand at the growing outskirts of Hawai'i. It could be somewhere in New Zealand or Australia, Papua New Guinea or Tuvalu. It could be in the arctic, the antarctic, along the equator, somewhere in the tropic of cancer or the tropic of capricorn. The shores of the ocean of the Pacific are vast, but nowhere near as vast as "shores of the ocean of true understanding".

As much as I long to explore the Pacific, I am far more keen to explore this other ocean.

And thanks go to my son, Shoghi, who walked this beach with me every step of the way, encouraging me, correcting me, and pointing out some beautiful ideas that I had overlooked.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Detachment from Heaven, Part 1... or Exit by Troops

"No man shall attain the shores of the ocean of true understanding except he be detached from all that is in heaven and on earth."

I have long wondered about this quote, found at the very beginning of the Kitab-i-Iqan. Given my background of studying English literature at university, the first sentence in any book always seems to me to be the very essence of the book itself. Whether it is the question of "Who's there" in Hamlet, and how this is a question that runs through all the main characters throughout the play, or "rage" being the very first word in the Iliad showing the theme that runs strong within it, as opposed to "man" being the first word in the Odyssey, opening lines are always important to me. And with this line, Baha'u'llah establishes detachment as a primary concept in part one of that book.

While it is possible to talk about many other aspects of this sentence, such as how the word "shores" is plural, or how He doesn't say whether we are in the wilds of a jungle looking for the ocean, or lost at sea looking for the shore, we will focus on detachment.

Oh, and not just detachment in a general sense, but specifically on detachment "from all that is in heaven". I mean, I sort of understand the thing about being detached from everything on earth, and how being detached is not the same as abandoning everything, but rather not allowing it to come between you and the truth. I get that. Really I do. (I won't say I'm good at it, but I get it.)

But heaven? Alright. That I don't get.

Of course that doesn't mean that I'm not willing to think about it out loud here. So what can it mean?

Well, I'm reminded of that quote from 'Abdu'l -Baha in which He says "In the highest prayer, men pray only for the love of God, not because they fear Him or hell, or hope for bounty or heaven." This, as you know, talks about an ulterior motive, saying the prayer because you hope to get into heaven, or because you fear being overly toasty in the next world of God. Neither of those are pure. They may not be bad reasons, but they are not pure.

This then leads me to another quote, this time from Baha'u'llah, in which He is talking about the "true seeker". He says that the true seeker "must so cleanse his heart that no remnant of either love or hate may linger therein, lest that love blindly incline him to error, or that hate repel him away from the truth."

Ok. That's a bit more interesting, and a bit closer the point here, I think. (And remember, this is all about what I think, not what is true. It is just my personal opinion, and nothing official.) So, from what I understand, when seeking truth, we have to look at something in a truly detached way. If we have an attachment of love then we may inadvertently accept something that is false out of love for the person who said it. Good point. I can see that. And, of course, the opposite is true, too. I may deny something just because I don't like the person who said it. (Well, I can see me doing that, but not you, dear Reader.)

So this talks about people on one level, I think. It also talks about where we hear something, like in our church, or in school. We might love our Faith and hear what actually turns out to be a false interpretation of something, but blindly accept it, thinking that our doing so somehow shows our love for the Faith.

Again, it seems to me that this talks about looking at information dispassionately, not allowing our emotions about the source to interfere with the information itself.

A tangental example that comes to mind is music. There are many composers whose music I love, even though I disagree with them ideologically. Take Wagner, for example. His music is impressive, even if he was quite racist in his views. It would be a great loss to me if I dismissed his music on this basis alone. And I think it would be quite silly, too. Of course, it may impact whether I choose to buy a CD from a living musician that I would prefer not to support financially, but that's about it.

Anyways, this seems to be all about being detached from those things on the earth. None of this is "heaven", per se.

So, if that's true, then what does it mean to be detached from all that is in heaven?

What just went through my mind was that we need to detach ourselves from our community, detach ourselves from our own understanding of the Writings, and detach ourselves from our own past. In fact, this is something that Baha'u'llah goes on at length about later in that same book.

And for that, I have lots of personal examples.

Over the years, I have seen many people enter and leave the Baha'i community, and I ask them all the same question: "Why". One of my favourite questions is how someone got where they are on their particular path in life. And you know what? I have learned to truly appreciate why it is that different people enter the community, and why others have chosen to leave.

Oh, wait a second. What do I mean by appreciating the reasons people have chosen to leave the Faith? Well, simple, really. People have their own reasons for doing things, and we shouldn't judge them for it. After all, if they choose to leave the Baha'i community, we can actually learn a lot about ourselves if we find out their reasons. By the same token, we can also learn a lot if we discover some of the reasons why people are attracted to the Faith, whether or not they accept it.

So what are some of the reasons for people leaving? The most common one that I have seen is disillusionment with members of the community. In fact, I can even be a bit more specific. It tends to be that the friends within the community don't appear to take their concerns seriously. For example, when asking about hell, many of us will dismissively say we don't believe in hell, and imply that anyone who does is a bozo, despite the many references to hell in the Writings. (The question is not whether we believe in it or not, for we do recognize the existence of hell and even of Satan, but rather a question of what their nature is.) Or perhaps the question may be why there are no women on the Universal House of Justice. Instead of exploring the question in depth, some people dismiss it saying, "The Master says that the reason will become more evident than the sun at noon." And while this may be true, it surely isn't evident yet, and is worth exploring with those who ask. Some people leave because they see how some Baha'is treat homosexuals, or because of all the "boring meetings" we have. It doesn't really matter, for their reasons are their own, and should be respected. And if we detach ourselves from any outcomes, we will discover that we can learn a lot about ourselves from how others react to us.

In short, we can look at our expectations of the community we live in, and whether or not it lives up to our expectations. (It usually doesn't, but that's ok, for we don't live up to the expectations of those in our community either.) We must be detached from this, and strive to improve ourselves and come to a better understanding of how to apply the Writings in our community.

This, to me, is another example of being detached "from all that is in heaven".

I have been amazed at how our understanding of the Writings has evolved over the years to become more and more centred on community, and am certain that our understanding will continue to grow and evolve in the years to come. I am not a Baha'i because of the community, or where the community is today, but because of the Writings of Baha'u'llah and where I see the community, as well as the world, will be in 100 years.

But all of this, important as it is, still skirts the question I still have: What does it mean to be detached from all that is heaven?

I think I'll look at that a bit more tomorrow.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

A Deeper Basis to Invitation

Our National Spiritual Assembly sent out a letter the other day with a question: What can we do to prepare our contacts to receive an invitation to the bi-centenary of the birth of Baha'u'llah next year?

What an interesting question.

I mean, it may just be me, but when I think of a holy day, I imagine looking at the calendar and saying, "Oh, there's a holy day next week." Then I would begin to freak out and slap together a quick program, usually with a few readings and a couple of stories. Maybe there would be a talk. (One year we actually had three separate programs. We began with prayers that included lots of live singing, and then divided the room into three. One part was for food and conversation; another part was a public talk; the third part was a crafts section around the theme of the holy day. It was great.)

Oh, and then I imagine calling up a friend and the conversation would go something like this. "Hey Joe." "Hey Mead." "Uhm, we're celebrating a Baha'i Holy day on Thursday. You wanna come?" "Sure. I guess so."

And that's that.

But preparing my friends? That's an intriguing thought.

A friend and I were chatting about this the other day and we had some interesting thoughts on this.

"Ruhi Book 4", we began. "After all, it's the story of the Twin Manifestations."

Well, it is and it isn't.

We initially thought that it would be good to bring our friends through Ruhi Book 4, The Twin Manifestations, but then quickly realized that this wasn't the purpose of the book. It's actually designed to help Baha'is tell the story of the Twin Manifestations to their friends. So rather than trying to get our friends to take the book, we should take it and perhaps tell these wonderful stories over the next year.

This got us looking at the book again, and that was when we noticed something else of interest: Unit 1. You see, as I'm sure you know, dear Reader, Units 2 and 3 are the stories of the Bab and Baha'u'llah, but Unit 1 is something totally different. It's about the importance of this Day.

Then, as we looked at this, we realized that the other two units are about a lot more than just the stories. The whole book is structured around the idea of crisis and victory, and this carries through all three units, helping us recognize the pattern that is so much there in all of history.

Now, when looking at the question, "What can we do to help prepare our friends to receive an invitation to the bi-centenary of the birth of Baha'u'llah" a whole new concept begins to arise.

And this gets to the heart of what prompted me to write all this.

Do you think it is any mere coincidence that we are seeing a significant rise in prejudice and fanaticism at this time?

When we look at recent history, that of the 20th century, we can trace this pattern so clearly. The century began with the amazing victory of "civilization" having spread all over the world, but one of the inherent problems with it was the spread of the colonialist attitude. However, there was also the tremendous victory of the various peace treaties between the countries that ensured peace between the nations. These peace treaties, however, were convoluted and weak, leading us straight into World War 1. What a crisis. And from that crisis came the Treaty of Versailles and the League of Nations. What a victory. However, this treaty was incredibly unjust towards Germany, and the League had no way to enforce its decisions. World War 2. Crisis.

From this global conflagration we saw the emergence of the United Nations. Another incredible victory. But it was tainted by the permanent members of the Security Council, a principal that says in effect "All nations are equal, but some are more equal than others." Through the various political intrigues between these five nations, there were many good decisions that got vetoed. Crisis.

This is where we are today. Basically.

So let's look at these members: China, France, Great Britain, Russia and the United States.

At the time of the formation of the Security Council, having permanent members with the right to veto any decision may have seemed like a good idea, but I suspect we're beyond that now. Of course, this is just my own personal opinion, and nothing official, but it's like a parent imposing rules on a child. There just comes a time when the parent no longer has that right.

And when I look at what is happening around the world today, with human rights abuses on the rise in some countries and prejudicial attacks rising in others, it seems to me that these five countries no longer have any possible claim to moral superiority to justify them being in this position over others.

I think we need to talk about this. With our friends.

And we need to look at what is happening in the world, the concerns that our friends rightly have, and help them see how to place this all into the context of crisis and victory. We know we are in the middle of a crisis. We also know that there is a glorious victory just ahead. We can see it.

We also know that this vision given to us was given to us by Baha'u'llah, whose 200th birthday is coming upon us very soon. We need to help spread the word about this vision, and about this Person. And as we do, we will be in a far better position to invite our friends and contacts to a celebration of His birth. And they will be far more open to receive it.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

The Wedding Reception

"What do you mean", my wife recently asked me, "you haven't written about our time in the Holy Land?"

Marielle and I recently applied for Pilgrimage, and that got us talking about the last time we were in Israel, which was for a dear friend's wedding.

But before I tell you that story, I have to share this other one with you. Well, it's not actually a story, but more just a bit of a note. Marielle was talking with her mother a little while ago and Lise, her mom, asked her about the idea of no women on the House of Justice. Marielle truthfully said that she had no idea why this would be the case, but that 'Abdu'l-Baha had said that the reason would, in the future, be more manifest than the sun.


This, as you can imagine, did not satisfy Marielle, nor her mother, until our family went to the Holy Land.

As I mentioned, we were there for a wedding. Well, as with all good weddings there was a reception afterward. Marielle, Shoghi and I all went downstairs to it, and the room was fairly crowded.

Now, crowded means that adults couldn't just easily walk through the room. There were enough people there that we were not exactly packed, but all standing fairly close together.

This would stop an adult from running through the room

But not a child.

Say, a child of just over a year in age who was just beginning to learn to walk.

Like Shoghi at that particular time.

When we went down there, Shoghi decided that he really wanted to be on the floor. And while the room was crowded, it wasn't that crowded. When Shoghi began to squiggle like that, I usually let him down so that he could begin to explore the world around him.

That day was no different.

Except that it was.

It was different.

We were in the Holy Land.

And at this party, there were some very special people. Shoghi, at just over a year of age, was placed on the ground, and he practically sprinted across the room. I went to go after him, but there was just no way that I could keep up. He was small, able to run between people's legs. I, however, was not.

He ran straight across the room and just about dive bombed Kaiser Barnes, grabbing his leg and giving him a big hug. Mr Barnes, who was a member of the Universal House of Justice at the time, let out a surprised full-bellied laugh at this.

But Shoghi wasn't done. No sooner had Mr Barnes noticed him than he was off again, rushing across the room to give Peter Khan, another member of the Universal House of Justice, a hug, too.

Dr Khan looked surprised, but smiled down at his little "attacker", who proceeded to run off again.

This time he went to give Farzam Arbab a hug. Mr Arbab was yet another member of this illustrious institution, and by now many people had stopped to watch this little child dive-bombing certain people with his adorable little hugs to their legs.

After Mr Arbab, Shoghi went to Hooper Dunbar and then Paul Lample, the fourth and fifth members of the Universal House of Justice who were there.

Five members were present at this wedding reception, and Shoghi got them all.

When Marielle told this story to her mother, she finished with, "I don't know why Baha'u'llah would decide to limit membership to men, but if Shoghi could pick them out of a crowd at that age, I'm going to trust this decision. There must be something special about them."

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Bring Thyself to Account Each Day...

Once again it has been quite some time since I have had the chance to write. While there are many reasons for this, there are no excuses. If you want to see a bit of what I've been working on, you can check out another blog I've been writing:

That's one that a friend and I have been working on for some time, and it has been very rewarding. Only recently have I gone back to the beginning of it and started re-reading some of our insights into that wonderful book, the Kitab-i-Iqan, the Book of Certitude.

But for now, I've been thinking about a question someone recently asked me. I've talked about it before, but I really want to write about it again and thought, "Hey, why not?" It's about that Hidden Word, number 31, "O SON OF BEING! Bring thyself to account each day ere thou art summoned to a reckoning; for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee and thou shalt be called to give account for thy deeds."

How, he wondered, do you bring yourself to account?

Well, as you know, dear Reader, this is just my own way of doing it. Nothing official. But it works for me.

To start, I'll re-tell a story of something that happened shortly after I declared myself a Baha'i.

First, let me just explain that after a long search, with lots of my testing to see whether or not I believed that Baha'u'llah was Who He said He was (and my use of capitals should give you some clue as to my thoughts on that), I decided that I would strive to do whatever He asked of me in the Writings.

And so I read, "Bring thyself to account..." Now I don't think this is just a good idea. He didn't say, as far as I can tell, "You might want to bring yourself to account...", or "It's a good idea to bring thyself..." No. To me, and it's a personal understanding still, it was a command. "Bring thyself..." Do it.

So I did. Or at least I tried.

I started off by looking at all the bad things I had done during the day, feeling bad about it, promising to try and do better, and going to sleep each night. After a few months of this, I began to feel really bad about myself. After all, I was looking at all the things I was doing wrong. I would count the sweets I had, the helpings of ice cream, or root beer, forgetting the vegetables I had enjoyed.

Then, a month or so later, I realized that if I were an accountant, and all I was looking at was my expenditures, I'd be a pretty lousy accountant. I needed to take into account all the good things I had done, too.

So began my daily look at all the good things I had done, all the bad things I had done, all the really good things I had done, and all the really not so good things I had done during the day. As long as the bad things were balanced by the good stuff, I was feeling pretty ok with myself.

But somehow, way in the deep recesses of my brain, I began to look at it all as some sort of cosmic balance. Bad things taken care of by the good? Well, if I have a few extra good things in the balance, then I can have some fun with the less than good things, right? I can enjoy that extra helping of ice cream.

Not quite.

This led to my pausing throughout the day and thinking to myself, "Oh, I'm going to have to account for this at the end of the day. Do I still want to do it?" And this, naturally, led to a change in my own behaviour.

And that, dear Reader, is when my life really began to change.

But all that was somewhere around 30 years ago.

What about now?

Well, the basics haven't really changed all that much, except that a lot of my questioning during the day is more habitual by now. I try not to judge myself, leaving that to God, but still try to judge my own actions. One thing, though. that has changed is my actual looking back over my day in a more detailed sort of way. Now, at least once a day, I try to actively recall as much as I can about my day. I think about how I woke up, whether I was refreshed or not, and what I did when I got out of bed. I think about washing up, making breakfast, what I ate. I think about walking my son to the bus, and what we discussed on the way.

I actually try to go through most of my steps, my thoughts, my reactions. I try to consciously recall my entire day and look back at it objectively, remembering what I did, what I enjoyed, and what I would like to do in the future.

And I find that I am more aware of my life. I remember more of what I have done.

For years, if you had asked me what I had for dinner the night before, I would not have been able to answer you. Today, I could probably tell you what I had a few days ago.

Taking the time to actively look back on my day has given me a greater awareness of the continuity of my life. It has helped me see where I have come from, where I am heading, and led me to a greater appreciation of what I truly value.

So many people tell me that our children grow up so quickly. And while that is true, I feel that I have had a lot more time in my son's life because I feel like I have lived it twice. While the years may seem to rush by, every day takes its time, allowing me to savor the joy of it.

Too often, I think we live unconsciously, letting the days drift by, unaware of any particular one, but taking the time to bring myself to account every day has helped me to be more aware of each day.

And that, my Friend, is a good thing.

Unless I had that extra helping of ice cream.

Monday, April 4, 2016


A number of years ago I was giving a talk on the Baha’i Faith during which I said how wonderful it was that the Bab declared His mission on the first day of spring back in 1844. I talked about the wonderful coincidence of it and how it was so symbolic.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. He hadn’t done that on that date. He had actually declared His mission months later on 23 May. I was a bit embarrassed about that mistake when I learned of it later, but felt like I had learned an important lesson in both humility and courtesy. I had to be humble and accept I had been wrong about that one fact. But I was also very impressed with the courtesy of the friends there who obviously knew my error, and refrained from saying anything. I mean, they could have corrected me later, but I’m grateful that they didn’t correct me at the moment.

That lesson, though, has stuck with me and led me to a question: Why is it that we feel the need to correct someone when we believe something different than what they say?

Recently, my son was saying a prayer, and in the middle of the prayer was the word “Sinai”. He pronounced it “sih-nie”, and someone else in the room “corrected” him, saying it was “sie-nie”. In the middle of his prayer. While he was praying. When he was finished, I told him that he hadn’t actually mis-pronounced it. His pronunciation was perfectly acceptable, just different from hers. Well, this friend proceeded to tell me that I was wrong, and that she knew how it was pronounced. Ignoring this, I told him about how different people have different accents, and that neither pronunciation is wrong. Both are correct. And, in fact, if you look at the word, you will see that the first syllable has a different spelling than the second, indicating that they might not be pronounced the same way. But the pronunciation depends on your particular accent.

Look at the spelling of some common words: Colour? Color? Neighbour? Neighbor? Again, both are fine. They are acceptable versions of the same words. It merely depends on where you grew up, where you live, as to which is considered correct. Just because one is correct, that doesn’t mean the other is wrong.

Just the other day I had someone “correct” me when I referred to a “tepee”. She said that if I was going to interact with it, I should learn how to spell it, “tipi”. What would be the intent of that? My first reaction was quite unhealthy and could have led me not write anything about that culture again. But really, that would have been childish on my part, and not worthy of that culture I so dearly love. Instead, I pointed out that there are 3 acceptable spellings of the word, and that I was using the one most common where I live. It did remind me, though, of how damaging “correcting” someone can be. After all, wouldn’t it be sad if our attempt at “correcting” someone led them to turn away from that which we love?

Perfection and excellence are good things, but courtesy is also important.

While meditating on this, I was reminded of a strange passage from Baha’u’llah in the Kitab-i-Iqan, the Book of Certitude. There, on page 8, He is talking about Noah, and says, “...there remained with Him only forty or seventy-two of His followers.” Why is He obscure about this, quoting two different numbers? Surely He could’ve told us the correct number, or not even mentioned a number at all. But He didn’t. He wrote both numbers. Why? Well, I’m not actually sure, but I suspect it is because He is quoting two different traditions, and doesn’t want to show preference between them. Perhaps He is saying that it is irrelevant which number we believe. And that, to me, is a worthy and important lesson.

When listening to someone else, or reading what they are writing, I often find that they say something I disagree with. But perhaps I can learn from this. Instead of presuming that I am correct, and that they must be wrong, maybe I should, instead, presume that they are right. Or maybe that we both are.

After all, how different would our interactions be if we always presumed that the other was correct, even if we are certain about our own knowledge? For like pronunciation, or spelling, there may be more than one form of what is correct.

Monday, March 7, 2016

“Can We Go to McDonald’s”: A Healthy Dilemma

My son and I were driving home, and we passed the local McDonald’s.

“Can we go to McDonald’s?”, came the 7-year old voice from the backseat.

I wasn’t sure what to say. We had never stopped in there, and I didn’t know why he wanted to now. Then I noticed the indoor play structure, and I guessed that this was the reason he wanted to stop.

To check, I asked.

Sure enough, that was it.

I apologized to the little guy, explaining that we couldn’t actually stop right then, for we had to get home that evening. I promised, though, that we would go the next day. That’s one of the important reasons to always keep your promises to your children. He knew that when I said we would do it, we actually would. And while he would have preferred to go right then, he was satisfied.

At that moment, I also let him know that we had to stop at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few things. On the way there, we talked about the play structure and how much fun it would be to run around and jump and swing and play all over it. But I also mentioned that in order to play on it, we had to buy something from them, that it was only for their customers. He understood that. No problem.

At the store, we went to the meat counter, which we rarely, if ever, do. I bought a pound of the finest, leanest, organic ground beef they had. I picked up some fresh vegetables, including lettuce, onions, beets and carrots. We got some really nice cheese, the kind that melts all over the place when heated up. We got some eggs, and some hamburger buns, the good kind, not that fluffy tasteless white stuff.

For dinner that evening, he helped me make a beautiful fresh vegetable juice, cutting up the beets and carrots so that they fit nicely in the juicer. Then we took the pulp and blended it in with the ground beef. Well, we didn’t so much blend it as squish it, squeezing them together, making an awful mess with our hands, especially when we added in a couple of eggs. It was gross, and so much fun.

We made our patties, carefully wrapping them around a nice thick slab of the cheese we had bought. Then we got the barbecue going. Now, we don’t have one of those fancy dancy mutli-thousand dollar propane barbecues that make everything taste of gas. We have an old-fashioned charcoal barbecue that takes a lot of effort to light up.
And with his help, we lit it up.

In short, we made the most amazing hamburgers we had ever had, rich with many layers of flavour, cheese oozing out the middle, topped with ketchup and mustard and lettuce and all sorts of yummy goodness of things, on those wonderful whole wheat buns that were just chock full of flavour.

We were both so content, oohing and aahing over this culinary masterpiece we had created together, both of us feeling sorry that my vegetarian wife wasn’t able to enjoy it with us. We both went to sleep quite satisfied.

The next day, on our way home from his school, true to my word, we stopped at McDonald’s. And he got a burger, while I satisfied myself with an order of fries.

One bite.

That was all it took.

His expression said it all.

We played on the play structure, but we haven’t been back since.

- - - - - - - - - -

Oh, what does this have to do with the Faith? A few things, really. First, the importance of trust. My son trusts that when I say I will do something, I will do it. Second, I'm teaching him about healthy living, especially in terms of diet. I'm sure there's more it teaches him, but that's enough for now.

Friday, February 26, 2016

The Baha'i Calendar

"Can you explain this Baha'i calendar thing?"

Well, that's not quite how I would phrase the question, but you ask, I try to respond.

Technically, it's called the Badi Calendar, not the Baha'i Calendar. Why? No idea.

And there are only a few things that really need explaining:
  1. The beginning of the day
  2. The days of the week
  3. The months of the year
  4. The beginning of the year
So, to "explain this Baha'i calendar thing", it's probably easiest to tackle those one at a time.

Before I begin, though, I'd just like to point out that there are over 40 calendar systems currently in use around the world, as far as I can tell (gotta love google). All of them, with a singular exception, are either based on the cycle of the moon, or somehow strive to reconcile the lunar and the solar cycles. Anyways, that said, let's go back to the Badi Calendar and the beginning of the day.

The Beginning of the Day

If we had no calendar system in our life today. and we were trying to come up with one, a basic question facing us would be when to begin the day. There are, if you think about it, four natural points at which to do that: sunrise, sunset, high noon and midnight, the last being the opposite of high noon.

Noon would likely be right out as that would mean changing the date during the most obtrusive time of the day. Midnight, while avoiding the date change thing, has a singular disadvantage in that you can't actually calculate it without some serious mechanical means. So for sheer practical purposes, we would likely discount either of those options.

This leaves us with the sunrise / sunset options.

From a theological point of view, sunset has the advantage in that it implies that we move from darkness to light. As this is also the same standard in the Bible, as well as in the Qur'an, it seems only fitting that it be the same in the Badi Calendar. And so it is: the day begins at sunset.

The Days of the Week

The Badi Calendar has seven days in the week, just like most others. The only difference is that the week begins on Saturday, and the "day of rest" is Friday, but that isn't actually being observed at this time. From what I understand, the day of rest will be observed when it is feasible within the context of society. After all, most of us can't just take Friday off, so it's not really realistic at this time to make it mandatory.

The other interesting thing is the names of the days of the week.

Beginning with Saturday, the names of the days are Jalal (Glory), Jamal (Beauty), Kamal (Perfection), Fidal (Grace), 'Idal (Justice), Istijlal (Majesty), and Istiqlal (Independence). At this time, I don't know of anyone actually using these names, much less many people who know about them. 'Nuff said there.

The Months of the Year

Now it begins to get interesting. The year is composed of 19 months of 19 days each. For those of you who are mathematically inclined, you will notice that this comes to only 361 days. What happens to the rest of the year? Do we just lose four days every year, and fall further and further behind? Nope. We squeeze these extra days between the 18th and 19th months, known as 'Ayyam-i-Ha.

The months, like the days of the week, have different names than any other calendar system, but I don't really feel like typing them all up, so I'm just going to cut and paste:
Calendar DatesBahá'í MonthArabicTranslation
Mar 21 – Apr 8BaháبهاءSplendour
Apr 9 – Apr 27JalálجلالGlory
Apr 28 – May 16JamálجمالBeauty
May 17 – Jun 4‘AẓamatعظمةGrandeur
Jun 5 – Jun 23NúrنورLight
Jun 24 – Jul 12RaḥmatرحمةMercy
Jul 13 – Jul 31KalimátكلماتWords
Aug 1 – Aug 19KamálكمالPerfection
Aug 20 – Sep 7Asmá'اسماءNames
Sep 8 – Sep 26‘IzzatعزةMight
Sep 27 – Oct 15MashíyyatمشيةWill
Oct 16 - Nov 3‘IlmعلمKnowledge
Nov 4 - Nov 22QudratقدرةPower
Nov 23 - Dec 11QawlقولSpeech
Dec 12 – Dec 30Masá'ilمسائلQuestions
Dec 31 - Jan 18SharafشرفHonour
Jan 19 - Feb 6SulṭánسلطانSovereignty
Feb 7 - Feb 25MulkملكDominion
Feb 26 - Mar 1Ayyám-i-Há (Intercalary Days)ايام الهاءThe Days of Há
Mar 2 - Mar 20‘Alá' (Month of fasting)علاءLoftiness
I love cut and paste.

One thing I find interesting is that many Baha'is think that the names of the months are names or attributes of God, somehow trying to figure out how "Words", "Speech", and "Questions" fit in there. It's great fun hearing how some try to reconcile this. ("Well, you see, God created all the words, and in every dispensation, gives them a new meaning." "So why don't we have a month called 'kittens' or 'toe jam', since God created those, too.")

The fact is that nowhere in the Writings does it say that they are names or attributes of God. Remember how I love to say "Show it to me in the Writings"? Well, this is one instance where it paid off. I learned something new, as did the person I asked.

From what I understand, the names of the months actually come from a prayer by one of the Imams of Islam. I've seen the prayer, but am not sure where to find it right now. Rather than attributes or names of God, these are more like key words guiding us through that prayer.

Why did the Bab choose that prayer for the names of the months? No clue. Sorry.

The Beginning of the Year

This is also interesting. Like the beginning of the day, there are 4 natural points in the solar cycle to select for the beginning of your year: the spring equinox, the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice. The Gregorian calendar, which is most used in the West, differs here, in that it begins a bit after the winter solstice. I don't really feel like explaining the historical reasons for it, but just know that it wasn't always that way.

Here, the Bab chose the Spring Equinox for the beginning of the year. Kind of nice that, in that the year begins with the rising of the flowers. At least, it does in most parts of the world, unless you happen to live in Canada. But not in Victoria, where I currently live. (Sorry, if you happen to live anywhere else in Canada. I don't mean to rub it in, but we do have our daffodils in bloom right now. And our crocuses. Croci? And the cherry blossoms are out. But I don't want to rub it in.) (To be fair, though, the snowdrops are already past. They bloomed in January.)

What is fascinating to me about this is that the Universal House of Justice recently decided that the point for choosing the equinox, since it takes a full 24 hours for the earth to pass through the actual point in space, is Tehran, the city of Baha'u'llah's birth. This year, for example, Tehran will pass through the point of equinox on 20 March, instead of the usual 21 March date. And so the first day of the year will 20 March this year, instead of 21 March.

From there, we count backwards 19 days, and arrive at 1 March as the beginning of the month of fasting.

Sounds good, so far,

But when we count forwards from the last spring equinox, 18 months of 19 days each, we arrive at 25 February. This only gives us 4 days of Ayyam-i-Ha this year, instead of the usual 5 for a leap year.


Well, simple, really. The first 18 months are counted forward from Naw Ruz, the New Year. The last month is counted back from the next Naw Ruz. Ayyam-i-Ha is sort of like the sponge that fills in the gap.

Make sense?


But why?

Well, it gives us a common point in the year, Naw Ruz. The first day of the year always coincides with the spring equinox. That is immovable. The rest of the calendar revolves around that point.

Now, remember when I said that there was a singular calendar system that had nothing to do with the moon? That would be the Badi Calendar. Our months have nothing to do with the lunar cycle. They are based on math.

Or so I had thought.

Only recently did I learn that the moon, in relation to the calendar, works on a 19-year cycle. What the heck does that mean? Well, it means that if we have a full moon on Naw Ruz, we will have another full moon on Naw Ruz in 19 years.

Why is that cool? Because the Badi Calendar is not merely an annual calendar. Every 19 years is called a Vahid. And as you might expect, each year in a Vahid has its own name. What are they? Well, let's use our old friend, cut and paste, again:
No.Persian NameArabic ScriptEnglish Translation
18AbháابهىMost Luminous

Please don't ask me to explain why these are named what they are. I will only give my famous "I don't know" response.

Oh, and it doesn't stop there. Every 19 Vahids is called a Kull-i-Shay', or All-Things. I can only presume that each Vahid has its own name, like the years in the Vahid, but I don't really know.

And, for what it's worth, for those of you like these little details, the Unviersal House of Justice formally aligned the calendar system world-wide at the end of the 9th Vahid. This year, 2015 - 2016, is the first year of the 10th Vahid of the first Kull-i-Shay'.

I just love that. It all seems to revolve around the numbers 9 and 19.

So, does that explain "this Baha'i Calendar thing"?