Here is an article I wrote the other day for my local newspaper. It's garnered some very nice feedback, so I thought I would pass it on here: http://www.timescolonist.com/opinion/blogs/spiritually-speaking
Enjoy.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Annotations
Have you ever annotated any of the Writings?
I mean, have you ever added little notes explaining for yourself what phrases or seeming asides are referring to?
Just the other day I picked up "The World Order of Baha'u'llah" again, and began re-reading it for the umpteenth time. As usual, I found myself wondering what some of the references the Guardian made were. Fortunately, at some point in the past, I made notes, and this has made my read of it a lot easier.
One example, is his reference in the very first sentence to "the doubts that have been publicly expressed, by one who is wholly misinformed as to the true precepts of the Cause". This, of course, is a reference to Ruth White, and what has to have been the most ridiculous attack on the Faith, what with her claim that the Master's Will was a forgery. I mean, she couldn't read Persian, had no knowledge of His impeccable handwriting, and no basis for recognizing His particular cadence and style of writing. Given this complete lack of information, and ignoring the fact that not even the avowed enemies of the Faith, including His half-brother, who were in a position to make such an assessment never for a moment dreamed of making such a ludicrous claim, she has my vote as the most absurd Covenant-breaker of all time.
Later on, he speaks of World Unity (the magazine), the abortive scheme of the Geneva Protocol, the proposal for a United States of Europe, and so on. These are all things that people of the day would have known, but some of which I did not. With just a bit of research, and a few notes, I made my reading of this text, as well as many others, a lot easier to understand. I also now find it a lot easier to relate these writings to current events.
I mean, have you ever added little notes explaining for yourself what phrases or seeming asides are referring to?
Just the other day I picked up "The World Order of Baha'u'llah" again, and began re-reading it for the umpteenth time. As usual, I found myself wondering what some of the references the Guardian made were. Fortunately, at some point in the past, I made notes, and this has made my read of it a lot easier.
One example, is his reference in the very first sentence to "the doubts that have been publicly expressed, by one who is wholly misinformed as to the true precepts of the Cause". This, of course, is a reference to Ruth White, and what has to have been the most ridiculous attack on the Faith, what with her claim that the Master's Will was a forgery. I mean, she couldn't read Persian, had no knowledge of His impeccable handwriting, and no basis for recognizing His particular cadence and style of writing. Given this complete lack of information, and ignoring the fact that not even the avowed enemies of the Faith, including His half-brother, who were in a position to make such an assessment never for a moment dreamed of making such a ludicrous claim, she has my vote as the most absurd Covenant-breaker of all time.
Later on, he speaks of World Unity (the magazine), the abortive scheme of the Geneva Protocol, the proposal for a United States of Europe, and so on. These are all things that people of the day would have known, but some of which I did not. With just a bit of research, and a few notes, I made my reading of this text, as well as many others, a lot easier to understand. I also now find it a lot easier to relate these writings to current events.
Friday, April 10, 2015
Re-Thinking Ethics
I had an incredible experience yesterday while sitting at the coffee shop.
When I went to my usual table, I noticed an open laptop and a few books on the unoccupied table across from me. I saw another regular customer at the next table over and said, "If I sit there today, do I get a free laptop?"
"Limited time only, so you better hurry."
Well, about 30 seconds later the owner of said laptop came back to her table.
"Oh well," I quipped, "there goes my free computer."
She laughingly said, "You can have it if you want to do the work."
"That depends," I replied, always quick on the uptake, especially when a free computer is involved, "what are working on?"
"Re-writing the nurses' code of ethics."
It turns out she is a student at a local college, one which I have had the pleasure of speaking at. In fact, I have actually addressed some of her classes.
We talked for a few minutes about how she was asked to trim down a 64-page document, riddled with repetitive redundancies, down to a easy-to-read 4-page literary masterpiece. Having had a little bit of experience doing similar things, with much less weighty material, in all senses of the phrase, I offered a suggestion to her by means of a question.
"If you could sum up the whole document", I asked, "in 5 words, what would they be? 5 virtues. How would you do it?"
To my surprise, she actually thought about it, took it seriously. I mean, I actually meant it as a serious question, but I didn't expect her to do it.
"Accountability", she began, and then hesitantly added, "responsibility, compassion, respect", and then she couldn't find a fifth.
I praised her for her choices, and suggested that she try outlining the whole document with those headers. It might help her find an easier way to organize it, which appeared to be the sticking point for her.
She thanked me, and went back to her work. For my part, I smiled and went on to my own.
But something kept bothering me.
I pulled out my Ruhi Book 8, and turned to Unit 3, which focuses no the Universal House of Justice. I turned to section 30, which deals with the Western perspective, and read a few of the questions, each of which had proven so useful in many other areas in recent days.
I said a quiet prayer, and then spoke up.
"Excuse me", I called.
"Yes?"
"Can I make an observation, please?"
"Of course."
"I noticed that in your list, you began with accountability. Why is that?"
She then began to explain to me the importance of nurses being accountable for their decisions, and how hospitals were in a tough position financially.
I told her that I was going through this workbook, and some of the questions had intrigued me, prompting m observation. I read her just a few. "What patterns of behavior emerge when an inordinate desire to stay young sets the standard for personal conduct?" "What kinds of injustices are committed when the desire for greater and greater profit is accepted as the fundamental operating principle of business?" "What are the effects on the environment and on the health of the world's population when the desire to have more and more defines humanity's relationship with nature?"
We spoke briefly of the underlying concept of materialism that pervades our culture, and how dangerous this can be, how it completely skews our understanding of humanity's role in the world.
And then I said something which, judging by he expressions that crossed her face, seemed to change everything for her. "What are the effects of putting accountability as the primary factor in that document? What would it look like if you put compassion as the chief overarching factor?"
I can't tell you what happened after that, for I could tell that she was processing that idea. She was going through those scenarios and realizing on a very deep level the problem with making accountability more important than compassion. She was coming to terms with the very idea that nursing is seen on our culture as a business, rather than a service. She was beginning to understand that she was in a very special position, capable of creating great change with such a seemingly innocuous job.
We didn't speak much after that, except to wish each other well as I left. But I could see in her expression, and her very demeanour, that she was returning to that basic understanding of why she was becoming a nurse in the first place.
We never know what little gifts God will toss our way when we leave the home in the morning. All I know is that we need to be open and ready to embrace them as they come our way.
And I, for one, am very grateful that this woman and I crossed paths yesterday.
When I went to my usual table, I noticed an open laptop and a few books on the unoccupied table across from me. I saw another regular customer at the next table over and said, "If I sit there today, do I get a free laptop?"
"Limited time only, so you better hurry."
Well, about 30 seconds later the owner of said laptop came back to her table.
"Oh well," I quipped, "there goes my free computer."
She laughingly said, "You can have it if you want to do the work."
"That depends," I replied, always quick on the uptake, especially when a free computer is involved, "what are working on?"
"Re-writing the nurses' code of ethics."
It turns out she is a student at a local college, one which I have had the pleasure of speaking at. In fact, I have actually addressed some of her classes.
We talked for a few minutes about how she was asked to trim down a 64-page document, riddled with repetitive redundancies, down to a easy-to-read 4-page literary masterpiece. Having had a little bit of experience doing similar things, with much less weighty material, in all senses of the phrase, I offered a suggestion to her by means of a question.
"If you could sum up the whole document", I asked, "in 5 words, what would they be? 5 virtues. How would you do it?"
To my surprise, she actually thought about it, took it seriously. I mean, I actually meant it as a serious question, but I didn't expect her to do it.
"Accountability", she began, and then hesitantly added, "responsibility, compassion, respect", and then she couldn't find a fifth.
I praised her for her choices, and suggested that she try outlining the whole document with those headers. It might help her find an easier way to organize it, which appeared to be the sticking point for her.
She thanked me, and went back to her work. For my part, I smiled and went on to my own.
But something kept bothering me.
I pulled out my Ruhi Book 8, and turned to Unit 3, which focuses no the Universal House of Justice. I turned to section 30, which deals with the Western perspective, and read a few of the questions, each of which had proven so useful in many other areas in recent days.
I said a quiet prayer, and then spoke up.
"Excuse me", I called.
"Yes?"
"Can I make an observation, please?"
"Of course."
"I noticed that in your list, you began with accountability. Why is that?"
She then began to explain to me the importance of nurses being accountable for their decisions, and how hospitals were in a tough position financially.
I told her that I was going through this workbook, and some of the questions had intrigued me, prompting m observation. I read her just a few. "What patterns of behavior emerge when an inordinate desire to stay young sets the standard for personal conduct?" "What kinds of injustices are committed when the desire for greater and greater profit is accepted as the fundamental operating principle of business?" "What are the effects on the environment and on the health of the world's population when the desire to have more and more defines humanity's relationship with nature?"
We spoke briefly of the underlying concept of materialism that pervades our culture, and how dangerous this can be, how it completely skews our understanding of humanity's role in the world.
And then I said something which, judging by he expressions that crossed her face, seemed to change everything for her. "What are the effects of putting accountability as the primary factor in that document? What would it look like if you put compassion as the chief overarching factor?"
I can't tell you what happened after that, for I could tell that she was processing that idea. She was going through those scenarios and realizing on a very deep level the problem with making accountability more important than compassion. She was coming to terms with the very idea that nursing is seen on our culture as a business, rather than a service. She was beginning to understand that she was in a very special position, capable of creating great change with such a seemingly innocuous job.
We didn't speak much after that, except to wish each other well as I left. But I could see in her expression, and her very demeanour, that she was returning to that basic understanding of why she was becoming a nurse in the first place.
We never know what little gifts God will toss our way when we leave the home in the morning. All I know is that we need to be open and ready to embrace them as they come our way.
And I, for one, am very grateful that this woman and I crossed paths yesterday.
The Source of All Good
The other day, my family and I had a wonderful dinner at a friend's home. She is an Aboriginal elder, and many aspects of the meal reflected this. One thing that she did was say a blessing before the meal, and smudge the room, along with the food. She also had someone collect a small piece of each food that was served, place it in a bowl, and then offer the bowl back to the earth. The bowl was later taken out and the food was buried in the ground. This is a tradition amongst her people.
A few days prior to this, my family and I had the bounty of going to a presentation on the Right of God. This presentation focused on the concept of this law being spiritual in nature, and not the many non-mathematical aspects of it.
Combined with all of this was our study of Ruhi Book 8, Unit 3, in which there are questions such as "What kinds of injustices are committed when the desire for greater and greater profit is accepted as the fundamental operating principle of business?" It reminds us that "the West puts itself forward... as a model and measure for others", but is not actually all that good of a model. In fact, our model "distorts human nature and purpose, trapping human beings in a pursuit of idle fancies and vain imaginings and turning them into pliable objects in the hands of the powerful."
When we came home, we had a very interesting conversation. (Standard disclaimer number 7 - This is all just our own opinion, but we really liked what we learned, so you can take it or leave it as you will.)
The essence of the conversation is as follows:
First, we realized that Huququ'llah is referred to, not only a "mighty law", but as "the source of grace, abundance, and of all good. It is a bounty which shall remain with every soul in every world of the worlds of God".
Now, the Right of God, or Huququ'llah, as you know, is an amount that is paid on whatever material wealth you accumulate, beyond your basic needs, once that amount reaches a certain level. You get to decide what your basic needs are, but beyond that, it is fairly straightforward.
When talking about the Right of God, we often hear it referred to as a form of taxation. It is likened, historically, to tithing and zakat, and other forms of revenue generation found in previous religions.
But is it?
We began to wonder.
You see, these other form of taxation are a straightforward payment. You earn money, you pay money. Nothing much to it, except that it is quite difficult if you are exceptionally poor. No provisions seem to be made for that. It is a mere mathematical calculation that all are required to obey. And maybe it's just me, but I don't see how any luxury tax, no matter what the percentage, could possibly be the "source of all good". Some good, for sure, but all good? Not likely. That would be just too materialistic a thing for me to believe.
But the Right of God is much more than that. It engages the heart, and requires planning and consideration on the part of the payee. It requires you to consciously organize your finances to decide how much is for your needs, and then calculate how much extra you earn. As you grow in this law, your needs seem to diminish as you recognize how little you actually require to survive. Now it's not asking you to be ascetic in your tastes, just honest about your desires versus your needs.
And yet, in the end, it has the phenomenal effect of altering your behaviour.
That, I see, as potentially being the "source of all good". Adopting that new attitude is a true "grace", and now it finally makes sense that it is this new attitude that would "remain with every soul in every world of the worlds of God". I never could imagine carrying around a pocket full of cash in all those different worlds, which is what I always pictured when people spoke of that aspect of this law. That just seemed silly to me.
So why do we always talk about it in terms of materialism? Why do we tend to speak of the benefits as being a material return on our "investment"? You know, as if paying the Right of God will somehow bring money back into our community sevenfold, or whatever? That's not the point, is it? The money will flow to wherever the Universal House of Justice sees fit. But the rewards that we see in our daily life as we strive to be more obedient to this law are far more impressive. As the numbers of people adhering to this "mighty law" increase, and as more and more people become aware of its importance, we will see an actual change in behaviour in our communities. People will become far more conscious of how they spend their hard earned monies, more aware of what frivolities they consume, and more conscientious of their needs and wants.
In one tradition, the native people would take the bones of their fish and return them to the waters, believing that the spirit of the fish was in their bones. This would allow them to come back if their bones were returned. In many cultures burnt offerings were given in recognition of giving back to the gods what was theirs. In Laotian Buddhism, the entire community gets together and offers the lunchtime meal to the monks, who eat their fill, and then return what is left to the community as a blessing and contribution.
In all these traditions, moderation is inherent. Humility is abundant. Awareness of how our own sense of generosity impacts the world around us is cultivated.
These, to me, are the true antecedents of the Right of God.
You see, if it were merely a luxury tax, as I alluded to earlier, then tithing and zakat would come close, but we would never get beyond the concept of this materialistic attitude. The very idea of a minimum payment would be absurd, for only the amount of cash generated would hold any importance. And that I cannot see being the main purpose of this law, given what I know of Baha'u'llah's teachings.
But when we recognize that the calculation of this sum is the fulfillment of that law, and the payment is, while important, only secondary, then we realize that even the poorest person on this planet will reap the benefit of it, for the very act of calculation fulfills the spirit of this "mighty law". Payment of any money owing, if applicable, is then not only a simple act, but one that you do "with utmost pleasure and gladness, nay with insistence". And phrases such as, "although these insignificant amounts are not worthy of mention, they are well-pleasing, since the donors offer them for the sake of God", suddenly make more sense.
A few days prior to this, my family and I had the bounty of going to a presentation on the Right of God. This presentation focused on the concept of this law being spiritual in nature, and not the many non-mathematical aspects of it.
Combined with all of this was our study of Ruhi Book 8, Unit 3, in which there are questions such as "What kinds of injustices are committed when the desire for greater and greater profit is accepted as the fundamental operating principle of business?" It reminds us that "the West puts itself forward... as a model and measure for others", but is not actually all that good of a model. In fact, our model "distorts human nature and purpose, trapping human beings in a pursuit of idle fancies and vain imaginings and turning them into pliable objects in the hands of the powerful."
When we came home, we had a very interesting conversation. (Standard disclaimer number 7 - This is all just our own opinion, but we really liked what we learned, so you can take it or leave it as you will.)
The essence of the conversation is as follows:
First, we realized that Huququ'llah is referred to, not only a "mighty law", but as "the source of grace, abundance, and of all good. It is a bounty which shall remain with every soul in every world of the worlds of God".
Now, the Right of God, or Huququ'llah, as you know, is an amount that is paid on whatever material wealth you accumulate, beyond your basic needs, once that amount reaches a certain level. You get to decide what your basic needs are, but beyond that, it is fairly straightforward.
When talking about the Right of God, we often hear it referred to as a form of taxation. It is likened, historically, to tithing and zakat, and other forms of revenue generation found in previous religions.
But is it?
We began to wonder.
You see, these other form of taxation are a straightforward payment. You earn money, you pay money. Nothing much to it, except that it is quite difficult if you are exceptionally poor. No provisions seem to be made for that. It is a mere mathematical calculation that all are required to obey. And maybe it's just me, but I don't see how any luxury tax, no matter what the percentage, could possibly be the "source of all good". Some good, for sure, but all good? Not likely. That would be just too materialistic a thing for me to believe.
But the Right of God is much more than that. It engages the heart, and requires planning and consideration on the part of the payee. It requires you to consciously organize your finances to decide how much is for your needs, and then calculate how much extra you earn. As you grow in this law, your needs seem to diminish as you recognize how little you actually require to survive. Now it's not asking you to be ascetic in your tastes, just honest about your desires versus your needs.
And yet, in the end, it has the phenomenal effect of altering your behaviour.
That, I see, as potentially being the "source of all good". Adopting that new attitude is a true "grace", and now it finally makes sense that it is this new attitude that would "remain with every soul in every world of the worlds of God". I never could imagine carrying around a pocket full of cash in all those different worlds, which is what I always pictured when people spoke of that aspect of this law. That just seemed silly to me.
So why do we always talk about it in terms of materialism? Why do we tend to speak of the benefits as being a material return on our "investment"? You know, as if paying the Right of God will somehow bring money back into our community sevenfold, or whatever? That's not the point, is it? The money will flow to wherever the Universal House of Justice sees fit. But the rewards that we see in our daily life as we strive to be more obedient to this law are far more impressive. As the numbers of people adhering to this "mighty law" increase, and as more and more people become aware of its importance, we will see an actual change in behaviour in our communities. People will become far more conscious of how they spend their hard earned monies, more aware of what frivolities they consume, and more conscientious of their needs and wants.
In one tradition, the native people would take the bones of their fish and return them to the waters, believing that the spirit of the fish was in their bones. This would allow them to come back if their bones were returned. In many cultures burnt offerings were given in recognition of giving back to the gods what was theirs. In Laotian Buddhism, the entire community gets together and offers the lunchtime meal to the monks, who eat their fill, and then return what is left to the community as a blessing and contribution.
In all these traditions, moderation is inherent. Humility is abundant. Awareness of how our own sense of generosity impacts the world around us is cultivated.
These, to me, are the true antecedents of the Right of God.
You see, if it were merely a luxury tax, as I alluded to earlier, then tithing and zakat would come close, but we would never get beyond the concept of this materialistic attitude. The very idea of a minimum payment would be absurd, for only the amount of cash generated would hold any importance. And that I cannot see being the main purpose of this law, given what I know of Baha'u'llah's teachings.
But when we recognize that the calculation of this sum is the fulfillment of that law, and the payment is, while important, only secondary, then we realize that even the poorest person on this planet will reap the benefit of it, for the very act of calculation fulfills the spirit of this "mighty law". Payment of any money owing, if applicable, is then not only a simple act, but one that you do "with utmost pleasure and gladness, nay with insistence". And phrases such as, "although these insignificant amounts are not worthy of mention, they are well-pleasing, since the donors offer them for the sake of God", suddenly make more sense.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
11
One of the problems with writing a blog is that everyone and their uncle, their aunt, their neighbour's dog and their cousin's-neighbour's-brother-in-law's-friend send you products or books or links to web-sites for review. Virtually all of them end up deleted faster than you can say "kazibblefarken".
Occasionally, though, one of these gleam through the gloam and you realize that it is that rare breed: a gem amidst the muck.
"11", by my friend Paul Hanley is one of these gems.
I have to admit my reluctance to begin when I received it. I was in the middle of reading some letters from Shoghi Effendi, in Citadel of Faith, and enjoying some novels by Robert Heinlein on the side. (I'm a sucker for good science fiction.)
But he asked if I would consider reading it and possibly reviewing it for him, and I had agreed. I mean, I really was looking forward to it, just not then. And so the days wore on. Then the weeks began to pass, and that book was still sitting there patiently awaiting its turn.
Finally, after closing the Door into Summer (one of those Heinlein books) (great story, but kind of creepy, too, in a way), I figured I had put it off long enough.
Within the first few paragraphs I was hooked.
The overall aim of the book is to describe what must change with the advent of 11 billion people on the planet, the conservative prediction for the end of this century.
He begins by describing our society, and the impact of some of the things we either do or take for granted, in a clear and concise manner. For example, he mentions the origin of the "coffee break", which comes from the coffee cartels taking advantage of the then-recently instituted morning break gained by the unions. The ads basically asked "Have you had your coffee break today?" Thus they carefully inserted the word coffee, creating an institution by which they handsomely benefited.
He also talks about the dangers of such simple things as waiting in your car to go through a drive-through window at a fast food place, the subtle way in which economists and business people changed our values from being producers to being consumers, the deliberate manner in which corporations chose to produce products that were designed to break down and force us to buy new items. Example after example, with references for all his sources, he begins to show us how we have been manipulated into a lifestyle that is systematically destroying the environment.
Much of it is not new, but it is refreshing to see it laid out so clearly, concisely, and with good references.
There are some minor errors, such as his depiction of streets and cars. He says that the dominance of the car on the street began in the 1920s, or so, with the invention of the term "jay walker" by the auto and oil industries. And while he does get that story correct, this dominance can easily be traced back quite a bit earlier with the nobility in many societies freely running down the lower classes on the roads if they didn't get out of the way of their galloping horses or carts in time. But those errors are so minor they in no way detract from the salient points he is trying to make..
His starting point is still valid, and very well researched.
He spend quite a bit of time on agriculture, which only makes sense, as food is, and will continue to be, a major issue for many in the world. He talks about reforestation projects, many of which I did not know, and reclamation projects, many of which I had heard. He talks about how many hectares of arable land are dedicated to such things as tobacco. he doesn't say that we shouldn't have tobacco products, but just places it in the context of how many people could be fed if that land was farmed for cereal grains. At no point does he say we should or shouldn't do anything. Rather he informs us of the cost of our actions and allows us to make our own more informed decisions. And it is just this sort of information that is best suited to changing behaviour, customs and laws.
He talks about education projects that help best develop healthy attitudes, those sorts of attitudes that are necessary for sustaining 11 billion people on this fragile planet of ours. He points out our excesses in entertainment, whether it is the number of people that could have been sustained by the resources dedicated to massive large budget movies, or the sports complex gripping untold tens of millions. He carefully distinguishes between those projects that are productive of sustaining goods, such as farms or clothing, and those that are entertaining, such as sports, alcohol or tobacco. And again, he doesn't say that we should do away with these entertainments or arts, but rather that we should be more conscious of the true cost of them.
In the end, he seems to me to ask a single question: What do we require to sustain such a large global population? The answer is found in those simple values that have been carefully eroded away: Moderation, humility, and compassion.
This is a book that I will read again, and re-read again, hopefully with a group of people around me so that we can consult on the many issues he raises.
I do not often promote a book or a product, but this is one that I believe is well worth it.
I strongly encourage everyone who reads this to go out and read that book.
http://www.elevenbillionpeople.com
Occasionally, though, one of these gleam through the gloam and you realize that it is that rare breed: a gem amidst the muck.
"11", by my friend Paul Hanley is one of these gems.
I have to admit my reluctance to begin when I received it. I was in the middle of reading some letters from Shoghi Effendi, in Citadel of Faith, and enjoying some novels by Robert Heinlein on the side. (I'm a sucker for good science fiction.)
But he asked if I would consider reading it and possibly reviewing it for him, and I had agreed. I mean, I really was looking forward to it, just not then. And so the days wore on. Then the weeks began to pass, and that book was still sitting there patiently awaiting its turn.
Finally, after closing the Door into Summer (one of those Heinlein books) (great story, but kind of creepy, too, in a way), I figured I had put it off long enough.
Within the first few paragraphs I was hooked.
The overall aim of the book is to describe what must change with the advent of 11 billion people on the planet, the conservative prediction for the end of this century.
He begins by describing our society, and the impact of some of the things we either do or take for granted, in a clear and concise manner. For example, he mentions the origin of the "coffee break", which comes from the coffee cartels taking advantage of the then-recently instituted morning break gained by the unions. The ads basically asked "Have you had your coffee break today?" Thus they carefully inserted the word coffee, creating an institution by which they handsomely benefited.
He also talks about the dangers of such simple things as waiting in your car to go through a drive-through window at a fast food place, the subtle way in which economists and business people changed our values from being producers to being consumers, the deliberate manner in which corporations chose to produce products that were designed to break down and force us to buy new items. Example after example, with references for all his sources, he begins to show us how we have been manipulated into a lifestyle that is systematically destroying the environment.
Much of it is not new, but it is refreshing to see it laid out so clearly, concisely, and with good references.
There are some minor errors, such as his depiction of streets and cars. He says that the dominance of the car on the street began in the 1920s, or so, with the invention of the term "jay walker" by the auto and oil industries. And while he does get that story correct, this dominance can easily be traced back quite a bit earlier with the nobility in many societies freely running down the lower classes on the roads if they didn't get out of the way of their galloping horses or carts in time. But those errors are so minor they in no way detract from the salient points he is trying to make..
His starting point is still valid, and very well researched.
He spend quite a bit of time on agriculture, which only makes sense, as food is, and will continue to be, a major issue for many in the world. He talks about reforestation projects, many of which I did not know, and reclamation projects, many of which I had heard. He talks about how many hectares of arable land are dedicated to such things as tobacco. he doesn't say that we shouldn't have tobacco products, but just places it in the context of how many people could be fed if that land was farmed for cereal grains. At no point does he say we should or shouldn't do anything. Rather he informs us of the cost of our actions and allows us to make our own more informed decisions. And it is just this sort of information that is best suited to changing behaviour, customs and laws.
He talks about education projects that help best develop healthy attitudes, those sorts of attitudes that are necessary for sustaining 11 billion people on this fragile planet of ours. He points out our excesses in entertainment, whether it is the number of people that could have been sustained by the resources dedicated to massive large budget movies, or the sports complex gripping untold tens of millions. He carefully distinguishes between those projects that are productive of sustaining goods, such as farms or clothing, and those that are entertaining, such as sports, alcohol or tobacco. And again, he doesn't say that we should do away with these entertainments or arts, but rather that we should be more conscious of the true cost of them.
In the end, he seems to me to ask a single question: What do we require to sustain such a large global population? The answer is found in those simple values that have been carefully eroded away: Moderation, humility, and compassion.
This is a book that I will read again, and re-read again, hopefully with a group of people around me so that we can consult on the many issues he raises.
I do not often promote a book or a product, but this is one that I believe is well worth it.
I strongly encourage everyone who reads this to go out and read that book.
http://www.elevenbillionpeople.com
Friday, January 16, 2015
A Single Kernel
The day I became a Baha'i, I ran into Mrs Khadem, widow of the Hand of the Cause of God, Mr Khadem. I know that I mentioned meeting her a few times in previous articles but I never actually said what happened.
I was at the Baha'i Temple in Wilmette, near Chicago, and I had just been given a lengthy lecture in the library about what it meant to be a Baha'i, none of which I remember. In a post-oratorial daze, I opened the door and meant to step into the visitor's centre, but stepped, instead, into Mrs Khadem. Full on. Bang. Knocked her right over.
After much apologizing on my part, helping her up all the while, she, too, proceeded to tell me the importance of what I had just done. Enrolling in the Faith, not knocking her over.
Out of all the things that people said to me on that first day of my life as an actual enrolled member of this Faith of ours, only one thing stands out, and it came from Mrs Khadem. "You must", she said, "read the writings of the Guardian."
Over the years this has been one of my guiding lights in the Faith: to continue to read the writings of the Guardian.
In fact, whenever a friend declares their faith, I strongly encourage them to read Shoghi Effendi's writings. To my great surprise, though, I have seen many veteran Baha'is try to talk others out of reading his works. "It's too difficult", they claim, "for a new Baha'i." To which I lovingly reply, "Hogwash."
I love the Guardian's works. They are precise, beautiful and very inspirational. They not only give me a clearer understanding of what Baha'u'llah teaches, they raise my vision, too. They challenge me, and change me. They get me to not only rise beyond my own vision of what I think this Faith is, but they challenge me to better understand my own mother tongue.
And today, it seems to me that many new Baha'is I meet are only reading those portions of the Guardian's writings that are either found in the Ruhi curriculum or quoted by the Universal House of Justice. Of course, there are those who do read his works, but I'm finding more and more who are not.
I suspect they don't know what they are missing.
I was reading "Citadel of Faith" the other day, not a common one to read for sure, when I ran across the following passage. It was written for the centenary of the Martyrdom of the Bab and shared at the gathering in the Baha'i Temple in Wilmette. (Yes, the same place I unceremoniously plowed into Mrs Khadem.)
It's only two pages long, and begins with a reminder that the Bab was the "Founder of the Dispensation marking the culmination of the six thousand year old Adamic Cycle" and the "Inaugurator of the five thousand century Baha'i Cycle". In two paragraphs he briefly outlines the history of the Faith of the Bab, and the incredible turmoil that occurred within the world's governments and religious institutions from that time through the writing of his letter. He takes another couple of lines to outline the history of the Baha'i administration as well as mention the valiant deeds of those believers who were present on that occasion, and adds another single line casting our sight into the future to the Golden Age of the Faith. Then, and this is where I wanted to begin, he gives us yet another vision altogether.
"Lastly", he writes with such beauty, "the Holy Seed of infinite preciousness, holding within itself incalculable potentialities representing the culmination of the centuries-old process of the evolution of humanity through the energies released by the series of progressive Revelations starting with Adam and concluded by the Revelation of the Seal of the Prophets, marked by the successive appearance of the branches, leaves, buds, blossoms and plucked, after six brief years by the hand of destiny, ground in the mill of martyrdom and oppression but yielding the oil whose first flickering light cast upon the somber, subterranean walls of the Siyah-Chal of Tihran, whose fire gathered brilliance in Baghdad and shone in full resplendency in its crystal globe in Adrianople, whose rays warmed and illuminated the fringes of the American, European, Australian continents through the tender ministerings of the Center of the Covenant, whose radiance is now overspreading the surface of the globe during the present Formative Age, whose full splendor is destined in the course of future milleniums to suffuse the entire planet."
Just imagine that. Take a moment, dear Reader, to visualize what he is saying. Envisage this tree, growing through all history, through all seasons, surging forth with each subsequent Revelation, producing a shoot, a small branch, eventually growing into a larger tree with leaves, and finally, after many centuries, a flower. This flower has grown to produce a seed, which has been taken and ground to produce an oil, which, in turn, has been ignited, casting a light that has shone within their hearts and throughout the world.
What a vision.
But then, as if that wasn't enough, he shows them how much the Faith has grown in the one hundred years since that momentous event. And he doesn't just give them the statistics; he prefaces it within this beautiful poetical vision. He says, "the crushing of this God-imbued kernel upon the anvil of adversity has ignited the first sparks of the Holy Fire latent within it", and then proceeds to unveil to them the immensity of their successes and victories.
The Guardian not only gave us a clearer vision of the teachings of our faith; he not only showed us where we were going as a community; he not only outlined for us the full scope of our Administration and showed us the way to victory; he did all this, and more, with a sense of beauty and poetry and grace.
And with far more grace than I showed when I first enrolled.
I was at the Baha'i Temple in Wilmette, near Chicago, and I had just been given a lengthy lecture in the library about what it meant to be a Baha'i, none of which I remember. In a post-oratorial daze, I opened the door and meant to step into the visitor's centre, but stepped, instead, into Mrs Khadem. Full on. Bang. Knocked her right over.
After much apologizing on my part, helping her up all the while, she, too, proceeded to tell me the importance of what I had just done. Enrolling in the Faith, not knocking her over.
Out of all the things that people said to me on that first day of my life as an actual enrolled member of this Faith of ours, only one thing stands out, and it came from Mrs Khadem. "You must", she said, "read the writings of the Guardian."
Over the years this has been one of my guiding lights in the Faith: to continue to read the writings of the Guardian.
In fact, whenever a friend declares their faith, I strongly encourage them to read Shoghi Effendi's writings. To my great surprise, though, I have seen many veteran Baha'is try to talk others out of reading his works. "It's too difficult", they claim, "for a new Baha'i." To which I lovingly reply, "Hogwash."
I love the Guardian's works. They are precise, beautiful and very inspirational. They not only give me a clearer understanding of what Baha'u'llah teaches, they raise my vision, too. They challenge me, and change me. They get me to not only rise beyond my own vision of what I think this Faith is, but they challenge me to better understand my own mother tongue.
And today, it seems to me that many new Baha'is I meet are only reading those portions of the Guardian's writings that are either found in the Ruhi curriculum or quoted by the Universal House of Justice. Of course, there are those who do read his works, but I'm finding more and more who are not.
I suspect they don't know what they are missing.
I was reading "Citadel of Faith" the other day, not a common one to read for sure, when I ran across the following passage. It was written for the centenary of the Martyrdom of the Bab and shared at the gathering in the Baha'i Temple in Wilmette. (Yes, the same place I unceremoniously plowed into Mrs Khadem.)
It's only two pages long, and begins with a reminder that the Bab was the "Founder of the Dispensation marking the culmination of the six thousand year old Adamic Cycle" and the "Inaugurator of the five thousand century Baha'i Cycle". In two paragraphs he briefly outlines the history of the Faith of the Bab, and the incredible turmoil that occurred within the world's governments and religious institutions from that time through the writing of his letter. He takes another couple of lines to outline the history of the Baha'i administration as well as mention the valiant deeds of those believers who were present on that occasion, and adds another single line casting our sight into the future to the Golden Age of the Faith. Then, and this is where I wanted to begin, he gives us yet another vision altogether.
"Lastly", he writes with such beauty, "the Holy Seed of infinite preciousness, holding within itself incalculable potentialities representing the culmination of the centuries-old process of the evolution of humanity through the energies released by the series of progressive Revelations starting with Adam and concluded by the Revelation of the Seal of the Prophets, marked by the successive appearance of the branches, leaves, buds, blossoms and plucked, after six brief years by the hand of destiny, ground in the mill of martyrdom and oppression but yielding the oil whose first flickering light cast upon the somber, subterranean walls of the Siyah-Chal of Tihran, whose fire gathered brilliance in Baghdad and shone in full resplendency in its crystal globe in Adrianople, whose rays warmed and illuminated the fringes of the American, European, Australian continents through the tender ministerings of the Center of the Covenant, whose radiance is now overspreading the surface of the globe during the present Formative Age, whose full splendor is destined in the course of future milleniums to suffuse the entire planet."
Just imagine that. Take a moment, dear Reader, to visualize what he is saying. Envisage this tree, growing through all history, through all seasons, surging forth with each subsequent Revelation, producing a shoot, a small branch, eventually growing into a larger tree with leaves, and finally, after many centuries, a flower. This flower has grown to produce a seed, which has been taken and ground to produce an oil, which, in turn, has been ignited, casting a light that has shone within their hearts and throughout the world.
What a vision.
But then, as if that wasn't enough, he shows them how much the Faith has grown in the one hundred years since that momentous event. And he doesn't just give them the statistics; he prefaces it within this beautiful poetical vision. He says, "the crushing of this God-imbued kernel upon the anvil of adversity has ignited the first sparks of the Holy Fire latent within it", and then proceeds to unveil to them the immensity of their successes and victories.
The Guardian not only gave us a clearer vision of the teachings of our faith; he not only showed us where we were going as a community; he not only outlined for us the full scope of our Administration and showed us the way to victory; he did all this, and more, with a sense of beauty and poetry and grace.
And with far more grace than I showed when I first enrolled.
Monday, January 5, 2015
That's Correct
In my most recent article, I talked about racism and how we needed to be a bit more aware of it, as well as understand its impact.
The responses were amazing. Thank you, all.
And I don`t mean thanks for the praise, for there wasn`t much of it, and what there was I don`t feel was deserved. It would be like thanking me for pointing out that there is garbage strewn around a park. It's sort of a thankless task.
The reason I am thanking you is for all your heart-felt concerns and questions about your own lives, and the confirmation of the breadth of the problem. The stories often brought me to tears, and the confessions raised some very interesting and real points about how to deal with racism in your own life.
Out of it all, one thing in particular stood out and that was the recurring theme of how to handle someone who does something in the "wrong" way. While the words "correct", "right", "appropriate" and all their synonyms and antonyms came up often when describing the problem, I don't think it was really what was meant.
Let me explain.
One friend very lovingly gave a real example from their own life. He is in a position of hiring people to work with a team of others. When he interviews people, the concern is not only their experience and expertise, but also their ability to work well as part of that team. So far, so good.
Where he lives, in the US mid-west, there is a great difference in style of speech between the African-Americans and the White folk. It is a very real difference, and a lot of prejudice surrounds it. To the White folk, this other style of speech sounds ignorant. To the African-Americans, the other people sound snobbish. This is only exacerbated by my friend's very natural assertion, "we speak correct, un-dialected un-accented grammatically-proper English".
When I read that phrase to my wife, who is from Quebec, she just about doubled over laughing.
You see, what my friend meant was that he was speaking in the normal style for his community. It is an agreed upon standard, and it feels natural to him. It would never occur to him that there is anything else.
But it accented. (To my ear, it sounds very nasal, and that they are about to swallow their vowels.) And it is a dialect. (Their phonology, grammar, and vocabulary are used by a group of speakers who are set apart from others geographically and socially, hence a dialect, just in case you want to dispute it.) And it is only grammatically proper according to that group. If we were to drop anyone from there into the middle of Oxford, England. they would all stand out, and would sound quite ignorant to the people there. (I am certain they would never use the phrase, "up with which we will not put".)
You see, this is the sort of thing that is very difficult to recognize when you are continually immersed in your own group. The problem is not the standard of that group, for that is part of what makes up community. It is the thought that one is right and the other wrong. This inappropriately places one group in a position of advantage while saying the other group is somehow lesser. It is the old "I'm right" reflex. (Search that term in my blog for more information.) And it is the root of most prejudice.
In other words, when speaking of language differences, what you mean to say is that these "others" speak differently than your cultural norm. That's doesn't make it "incorrect" or "wrong". It just makes it different. When you say that your way of doing things is "correct", you are making a judgement call. You are implying that you are right and everyone who does otherwise is wrong.
Another way to look at it is to use French as an example. With French it appears to be easy. After all, there is a board in Paris that decides which words become part of the French language. They are the Académie française, or l'Académie. Yet, even with this board, there are still at least 24 different recognized dialects. Which one is "correct"? The answer, of course, is none of them. They are each and all correct and add to the richness and diversity of both the language and the culture.
In English, though, there is no such board, and there are far more recognized dialects, including various pidgin and English-based creole versions. My friend, whether or not he realizes it, speaks "Inland Northern American English".
While the written standard of English seems to be fairly normalized, in that virtually all variants agree on the written rules, the spoken rules vary widely.
And yet, all this is actually beside the point. The real issue is judgement. I only wrote all the above to show that I am not speaking from a perspective of ignorance, but from the stance of one who loves language, diversity, and the variety of cultures. It's not that I have a doctorate or anything in this area, for I don't, but I am searching to learn, and longing to see greater unity in the world.
'Abdu'l-Baha said, "The fact that we imagine ourselves to be right and everybody else wrong is the greatest of all obstacles in the path towards unity, and unity is necessary if we would reach truth, for truth is one."
With the language issue, it is not a question of who follows which rules, or which dialect is preferred, but whether or not communication occurs. That is the purpose of language. The rules are there to serve that end.
In a social or work setting, to judge someone else based on their language is not only silly, but detrimental to both communication and unity. Einstein's use of English left a lot to be desired, but we don't think of him as ignorant. We know that he was an immigrant, and that English was not his primary language.
If someone has shown themselves to be a good, upright person, with considerable knowledge in a field, it is to our own detriment that we would judge them based on something as silly as a few of their word choices. Soda? Pop? Who cares? We know that both refer to a carbonated beverage.
It is appropriate, though, to let them know of this perception, and help them learn to adapt, while not judging them yourself.
While there may be no right or wrong way to speak, there are cultural preferences, and these can be shared in a spirit of love and respect. But to insist that one is right while all others are wrong is always detrimental to the development of all.
Whether it is clothing, food preferences, hair style, or language, they all influence our perception of others. And when we embrace the great variety of these on the planet, then the world becomes a richer and more beautiful garden in which to live.
The responses were amazing. Thank you, all.
And I don`t mean thanks for the praise, for there wasn`t much of it, and what there was I don`t feel was deserved. It would be like thanking me for pointing out that there is garbage strewn around a park. It's sort of a thankless task.
The reason I am thanking you is for all your heart-felt concerns and questions about your own lives, and the confirmation of the breadth of the problem. The stories often brought me to tears, and the confessions raised some very interesting and real points about how to deal with racism in your own life.
Out of it all, one thing in particular stood out and that was the recurring theme of how to handle someone who does something in the "wrong" way. While the words "correct", "right", "appropriate" and all their synonyms and antonyms came up often when describing the problem, I don't think it was really what was meant.
Let me explain.
One friend very lovingly gave a real example from their own life. He is in a position of hiring people to work with a team of others. When he interviews people, the concern is not only their experience and expertise, but also their ability to work well as part of that team. So far, so good.
Where he lives, in the US mid-west, there is a great difference in style of speech between the African-Americans and the White folk. It is a very real difference, and a lot of prejudice surrounds it. To the White folk, this other style of speech sounds ignorant. To the African-Americans, the other people sound snobbish. This is only exacerbated by my friend's very natural assertion, "we speak correct, un-dialected un-accented grammatically-proper English".
When I read that phrase to my wife, who is from Quebec, she just about doubled over laughing.
You see, what my friend meant was that he was speaking in the normal style for his community. It is an agreed upon standard, and it feels natural to him. It would never occur to him that there is anything else.
But it accented. (To my ear, it sounds very nasal, and that they are about to swallow their vowels.) And it is a dialect. (Their phonology, grammar, and vocabulary are used by a group of speakers who are set apart from others geographically and socially, hence a dialect, just in case you want to dispute it.) And it is only grammatically proper according to that group. If we were to drop anyone from there into the middle of Oxford, England. they would all stand out, and would sound quite ignorant to the people there. (I am certain they would never use the phrase, "up with which we will not put".)
You see, this is the sort of thing that is very difficult to recognize when you are continually immersed in your own group. The problem is not the standard of that group, for that is part of what makes up community. It is the thought that one is right and the other wrong. This inappropriately places one group in a position of advantage while saying the other group is somehow lesser. It is the old "I'm right" reflex. (Search that term in my blog for more information.) And it is the root of most prejudice.
In other words, when speaking of language differences, what you mean to say is that these "others" speak differently than your cultural norm. That's doesn't make it "incorrect" or "wrong". It just makes it different. When you say that your way of doing things is "correct", you are making a judgement call. You are implying that you are right and everyone who does otherwise is wrong.
Another way to look at it is to use French as an example. With French it appears to be easy. After all, there is a board in Paris that decides which words become part of the French language. They are the Académie française, or l'Académie. Yet, even with this board, there are still at least 24 different recognized dialects. Which one is "correct"? The answer, of course, is none of them. They are each and all correct and add to the richness and diversity of both the language and the culture.
In English, though, there is no such board, and there are far more recognized dialects, including various pidgin and English-based creole versions. My friend, whether or not he realizes it, speaks "Inland Northern American English".
While the written standard of English seems to be fairly normalized, in that virtually all variants agree on the written rules, the spoken rules vary widely.
And yet, all this is actually beside the point. The real issue is judgement. I only wrote all the above to show that I am not speaking from a perspective of ignorance, but from the stance of one who loves language, diversity, and the variety of cultures. It's not that I have a doctorate or anything in this area, for I don't, but I am searching to learn, and longing to see greater unity in the world.
'Abdu'l-Baha said, "The fact that we imagine ourselves to be right and everybody else wrong is the greatest of all obstacles in the path towards unity, and unity is necessary if we would reach truth, for truth is one."
With the language issue, it is not a question of who follows which rules, or which dialect is preferred, but whether or not communication occurs. That is the purpose of language. The rules are there to serve that end.
In a social or work setting, to judge someone else based on their language is not only silly, but detrimental to both communication and unity. Einstein's use of English left a lot to be desired, but we don't think of him as ignorant. We know that he was an immigrant, and that English was not his primary language.
If someone has shown themselves to be a good, upright person, with considerable knowledge in a field, it is to our own detriment that we would judge them based on something as silly as a few of their word choices. Soda? Pop? Who cares? We know that both refer to a carbonated beverage.
It is appropriate, though, to let them know of this perception, and help them learn to adapt, while not judging them yourself.
While there may be no right or wrong way to speak, there are cultural preferences, and these can be shared in a spirit of love and respect. But to insist that one is right while all others are wrong is always detrimental to the development of all.
Whether it is clothing, food preferences, hair style, or language, they all influence our perception of others. And when we embrace the great variety of these on the planet, then the world becomes a richer and more beautiful garden in which to live.
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