"It's a beautiful letter", he said last night, "of information, but I don't see where they actually tell us to do anything."
And that was where my mind kind of went, "Ping!"
We were talking about the recent message from the Universal House of Justice, dated 1 August 2014. And, you see, I can't imagine a letter from the Universal House of Justice like that in which we are not given some sort of indication of something to do. Of course, it may not be overtly stated, and you may have to hunt for it, but I think all of their messages give us guidance for some sort of action.
So what about this one?
Well, I'm not really sure, but this is what I found: "a place where souls gathered at daybreak for humble invocation and communion before flowing out of its doors to engage in their daily pursuits."
I mean, the whole letter begins with a bit about interfaith relations, or at least that's what I read in the quote referring to "the Lord of all religions", and then talks about the importance of community building and service. And while these are on-going things, it was this bit about gathering at dawn that caught my attention.
My train of thought, if you want, was really along the lines of "how can we prepare for a Masriqu’l-Adhkár in our own community?" And this is what I came up with. Let's try dawn prayers. Let's see what happens when we get together at daybreak and offer humble invocation before going forth to engage in our daily pursuits.
And so, this morning, at 5:45, my wife and I headed out of our home and down to the far end of the beach at the Esquimalt Lagoon. (We were way down by Lagoon Road, if you want to join us some day.)
There really is something about leaving the home to do it. It's not the same as just heading downstairs in your pajamas and saying a prayer or two while curled up on the sofa with a warm cup of coffee. It requires a degree of effort beyond just setting the alarm clock and heading back to sleep a few minutes later. There is a degree of sacrifice if you're not used to getting up at that time. It does mean changing the habit of one's routine to include that extra time in the morning. It does mean heading to bed a little bit earlier. But, hey, isn't all that a good thing? Isn't a major part of religion about using what we discover to change our behaviour for the better?
Anyways, we got there around 6 am, and were amazed at the lonely beauty of the beach at that early hour. There were tons of birds, and some seals bobbing their heads in the water. There were the early morning clouds still blanketing the mountains in the distance, with occasional flashes of lightning throughout. And there was the sound of the waves. Oh, the sound of those waves, with the piercing cry of the gulls, and bursting honks of the geese. What a symphony of sound.
We decided to grab our drums so that, just in case, others might know what we were doing: praying (that's a local Native tradition, drumming while praying). My wife grabbed some sweetgrass to smudge with (that's a Native ritual of cleansing with smoke), and I grabbed some blueberries (that's a traditional berry in the area that I eat before prayers) (but only because I was hungry). We parked our car (a traditional means of transportation to go from one place to another), at the far end near the restrooms (that's a traditional.... never mind).
And then we got out and sat on a log and began.
We must have gone on for about 30 minutes, reciting prayers, drumming, keeping beat with a rattle, and chanting. And it felt so good.
It felt SO good.
Of course, to be honest, there were some times when I felt that the various things my wife brought were a distraction, but that's ok. While smudging may not be part of my tradition, I don't insist on someone else not doing it. I just need to learn to not get distracted by it.
And while I sometimes found the drums distracting, that's ok, too. If they help someone else focus, great. I just need to learn not to be distracted. No problem.
We were getting ready to go when this man, who was watching us, waved to me. He had ridden his bike down to the lagoon, heard the drums, and decided to stop. He saw a little sign near where we were that said "open", and figured that we had put it there. Well, we hadn't. We hadn't even noticed it. But we were glad he came by.
As he walked up to us, I read aloud the words on his shirt. "This little Indian loves Jesus".
It turns out he was visiting from Hawai'i, and had decided to ride the bike while waiting for his family to wake up.
We had a great conversation, shared places to visit. We all told a bit about our lives, our tests and our victories. It was truly delightful. I gave him our number, and asked him to call us. I hope he does. It would be wonderful to visit him near Volcano National Park some day. Perhaps he'll come by tomorrow, too.
Oh, and tomorrow we are going to bring down our white board to invite people to join us. We may not say "open", but we will sure be inviting. Perhaps we'll say "A gathering of gratitude - please feel free to join us."
This was a wonderful way to begin our day, and I look forward to trying this every day for the next week, just to see what happens.
Perhaps I'll make a habit of it.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
A Thought about Cain
"Hmmm. That's odd."
Yes, that's a reference to a recent article I wrote, but really, it's what I said. It was funny.
All right. I was sitting there reading the Bible (actually The Tanakh, the Jewish order of the Book), and I ran across the story of Cain and Abel. You remember, guy kills brother and tried to hide it. Pretty basic, right? That's what I thought.
Until I read it again.
You see, I am of the opinion that there is absolutely nothing in sacred Text that is an accident. I believe that it is all there for a very particular reason. Well, usually multiple reasons, but there for at least one reason. And so I was reading the story of Cain and Abel again.
Now this seems fairly straightforward, but there is something that I noticed that I began to wonder about. It occurred to me that God did not seem to get upset upon the murder itself. Nor did He appear to get upset over the deliberate misdirection. Oh, I say misdirection, for it is possible that Cain did not know where Abel went. After all, do any of us truly know where someone goes when they die?
Anyways, it seems to me that God really got upset when Cain added the additional comment, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
I mean, let's face it. God knew what happened. There's no question of that. And the traditional supposition is that He gave Cain the opportunity to confess.
But if that's really the case, then why that momentary delay in God's response? Doesn't it make more sense for Cain to say, "I don't know", and then God to immediately reply, "What have you done?" And yet He doesn't. He waits, just for a moment, perhaps, but He waits.
I've been thinking about this for a while now, especially in relation to community development, and this is what I've come up with. While I am sure that God is not happy about Abel's murder, I think it is this last statement that actually changes things. Prior to this moment it seems that we all worked as a community. We all looked after each other. And while there might have been some disagreements, perhaps even leading to violence, we still all saw ourselves as part of community. You had the shepherds, as exemplified by Abel, and you had farmers, as shown by Cain, but they were all family, all part of the same organic whole. Of course you probably had the typical disagreements between the two groups, as to who had the right to which piece of land, whether for grazing or farming, but they were still together.
Oh, and you also had those who gave willingly to God and to the community, with radiant acquiescence, as seen by the longer and more detailed description of Abel's offering, and those who may have given only grudgingly, perhaps seen by the lack of detail of Cain's offering.
But even then, they were part of the community, and everyone looked after each other.
Now, however, something has changed. With that singular statement, easily the most famous in Genesis 4, something changed. When Cain asks, "Am I my brother's keeper", he is in effect saying that he does not feel that he is responsible for anyone but himself. He is no longer part of community. He is now thinking of himself before the community. And that is the beginning of a very long and tortuous road in history.
"What", God says, likely with infinite sadness, seeing this path before us, "have you done?"
So long as we think of ourselves, and our own needs, first before those of the community, we truly will be "cursed more than the ground".
Yes, that's a reference to a recent article I wrote, but really, it's what I said. It was funny.
All right. I was sitting there reading the Bible (actually The Tanakh, the Jewish order of the Book), and I ran across the story of Cain and Abel. You remember, guy kills brother and tried to hide it. Pretty basic, right? That's what I thought.
Until I read it again.
You see, I am of the opinion that there is absolutely nothing in sacred Text that is an accident. I believe that it is all there for a very particular reason. Well, usually multiple reasons, but there for at least one reason. And so I was reading the story of Cain and Abel again.
After a period of time, Cain brought an offering to Hashem of the fruit of the ground; and as for Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and from their choicest. Hashem turned to Abel and his offering, but to Cain and his offering he did not turn. This annoyed Cain exceedingly, and his countenance fell.
And Hashem said to Cain, 'Why are you annoyed, and why has your countenance fallen? Surely, if you improve yourself, you will be forgiven. But if you do not improve yourself, sin rests at the door. Its desire is toward you, yet you can conquer it.'
Cain spoke with his brother Abel. And it happened when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him.
Hashem said to Cain, 'Where is Abel your brother?'
And he said, 'I do not know. Am I my brother's keeper?'
The He said, 'What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground! Therefore, you are cursed more than the ground...'
Now this seems fairly straightforward, but there is something that I noticed that I began to wonder about. It occurred to me that God did not seem to get upset upon the murder itself. Nor did He appear to get upset over the deliberate misdirection. Oh, I say misdirection, for it is possible that Cain did not know where Abel went. After all, do any of us truly know where someone goes when they die?
Anyways, it seems to me that God really got upset when Cain added the additional comment, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
I mean, let's face it. God knew what happened. There's no question of that. And the traditional supposition is that He gave Cain the opportunity to confess.
But if that's really the case, then why that momentary delay in God's response? Doesn't it make more sense for Cain to say, "I don't know", and then God to immediately reply, "What have you done?" And yet He doesn't. He waits, just for a moment, perhaps, but He waits.
I've been thinking about this for a while now, especially in relation to community development, and this is what I've come up with. While I am sure that God is not happy about Abel's murder, I think it is this last statement that actually changes things. Prior to this moment it seems that we all worked as a community. We all looked after each other. And while there might have been some disagreements, perhaps even leading to violence, we still all saw ourselves as part of community. You had the shepherds, as exemplified by Abel, and you had farmers, as shown by Cain, but they were all family, all part of the same organic whole. Of course you probably had the typical disagreements between the two groups, as to who had the right to which piece of land, whether for grazing or farming, but they were still together.
Oh, and you also had those who gave willingly to God and to the community, with radiant acquiescence, as seen by the longer and more detailed description of Abel's offering, and those who may have given only grudgingly, perhaps seen by the lack of detail of Cain's offering.
But even then, they were part of the community, and everyone looked after each other.
Now, however, something has changed. With that singular statement, easily the most famous in Genesis 4, something changed. When Cain asks, "Am I my brother's keeper", he is in effect saying that he does not feel that he is responsible for anyone but himself. He is no longer part of community. He is now thinking of himself before the community. And that is the beginning of a very long and tortuous road in history.
"What", God says, likely with infinite sadness, seeing this path before us, "have you done?"
So long as we think of ourselves, and our own needs, first before those of the community, we truly will be "cursed more than the ground".
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
A Thought on Unity, part 3 of 3
We began with the simple idea of seeing the world in terms of positive values, instead of opposites. Then we continued with the concept of seeing everything in terms of a giant spiral, in which creation moves from the micro levels up to macro levels.
My question, though, is what good does this do us? How can we apply this idea of the spiral in our daily life?
To start, I'd like to refine the spiral just a bit. Imagine, if you will, that the line of the spiral is a wall. Oh, but not your normal wall. No, that just wouldn't do. It's a really tiny wall, say even starting at the ground itself. And the further it moves away from the centre, the taller it gets. Where we are, as humans, we can easily see over the wall between us and the centre, but that part of the wall that is on the outer edge of us, we can't. It's too tall. It blocks our view.
Why is this important?
Simple. Everything in any of the various kingdoms can comprehend that which is before it, to some degree or another. Animals, after all, know which plants and minerals are good for them, and we understand a bit about animals and minerals. "(N)o lower degree", says Abdu'l-Baha, "can understand a higher, such comprehension being impossible." He goes on and explains, "The higher plane, however, understandeth the lower. The animal, for instance, comprehendeth the mineral and vegetable, the human understandeth the planes of the animal, vegetable and mineral. But the mineral cannot possibly understand the realms of man. And notwithstanding the fact that all these entities co-exist in the phenomenal world, even so, no lower degree can ever comprehend a higher." So this wall is just a way to explain why we only get a tiny glimpse into the next kingdom. And perhaps why many don't believe it exists. (They seem to figure that some exit from the spiral is just around the corner, just barely out of sight.)
So, what does this have to do with my daily life? Baha'u'llah, as I'm sure you well know, said that heaven was nearness to God. Well, what He actually said was, "They say: 'Where is Paradise, and where is Hell?' Say: 'The one is reunion with Me; the other thine own self, O thou who dost associate a partner with God and doubtest.'"
Oh, still not clear? Well, I was at a school recently in which Dr Nader Saiedi said that the Bab had defined heaven as "the fulfillment of one's potential". I cannot verify this quote, for it was, I believe, his own translation, but it sure accords with everything I've read from the Bab.
Of course, now that I have peered into the blender of my mind, all sorts of other things begin to show themselves. Baha'u'llah, in the Seven Valleys, quotes a famous Hadith that says, "Knowledge is a single point, but the ignorant have multiplied it." Of course, there seem to be two basic branches of knowledge, namely science and religion.
Science is the discovery of the world around us, which is the acquisition of knowledge. It helps us understand how cause and effect work in the physical realm, and help us use that to our advantage. This is one way to move a little bit further around that spiral. Of course, how we use that knowledge is another thing altogether. If we use our knowledge to the benefit of the human race, then we are showing forth our virtues, helping them grow and develop, and this moves us even further around that spiral towards the outer edges. But if we use that knowledge solely for our own personal benefit, to feed our own selfish desires, then that is more animal-like and moves us further in the spiral, into the narrow portions of it.
What about religion? Well, true religion, as opposed to superstition or blind dogmatic belief, also helps us discover how the world functions. It helps us understand more about the spiritual side of cause and effect. Every religion out there gives us moral guidelines that are to our own benefit. They also provide guidance about what humanity needs at any given time, and where we should focus our attention.
In either case, science or religion, they both help us move further along that spiral of growth towards the outer layers, for we are helping develop our attribute of knowledge.
Well, presuming that we use that knowledge for good and the betterment of humanity.
But how else does this spiral help in my daily life? I remember a long time ago someone told me that one of my jobs in life was to help others develop their own potential. Now I think it is more than just that, I think I am also here to help all things develop their potential, not just other people.
Take a rock, for example. If the heaven of that rock is to fulfill its potential, then I can help it attain its own heaven by doing just that. How, I'm not exactly sure, but I like to think of my artwork as a step in that process.
I do know, though, that I could easily help it attain its own hell: Pollution.
I think that something is pollution only because it is not fulfilling its potential. When we look at something, like a piece of plastic, and only see a short-term use for it, like a bag, then once that use is done, it is considered garbage. And that must be like hell for that piece of plastic. I believe that our job as spiritual beings is to see the long-term use of everything, and ensure that it is used to the best of its ability.
When I think of the environmental movement, this is what I envision.
And you know what? The same goes for animals. If we see an elephant merely as a carrier for a piece of ivory, then we are denying the full magnificent reality of that animal.
It also goes for children. When educators see children in a class room merely as identical cogs in a machine, or as numbers by which they can get more funding, then that is a sign of the impending failure of the educational system, and a poor forecast for the future of the community.
This spiral helps me envision my own place in a very complex world, filled with incredible diversity. It helps me see how I can be of assistance to everything around me, from minerals to animals and even people. It also helps me envision my own goal in life, namely to try and move ever further around that bend.
And you know what? Some people would say that I've already succeeded! They would say that I'm already slightly around the bend.
My question, though, is what good does this do us? How can we apply this idea of the spiral in our daily life?
To start, I'd like to refine the spiral just a bit. Imagine, if you will, that the line of the spiral is a wall. Oh, but not your normal wall. No, that just wouldn't do. It's a really tiny wall, say even starting at the ground itself. And the further it moves away from the centre, the taller it gets. Where we are, as humans, we can easily see over the wall between us and the centre, but that part of the wall that is on the outer edge of us, we can't. It's too tall. It blocks our view.
Why is this important?
Simple. Everything in any of the various kingdoms can comprehend that which is before it, to some degree or another. Animals, after all, know which plants and minerals are good for them, and we understand a bit about animals and minerals. "(N)o lower degree", says Abdu'l-Baha, "can understand a higher, such comprehension being impossible." He goes on and explains, "The higher plane, however, understandeth the lower. The animal, for instance, comprehendeth the mineral and vegetable, the human understandeth the planes of the animal, vegetable and mineral. But the mineral cannot possibly understand the realms of man. And notwithstanding the fact that all these entities co-exist in the phenomenal world, even so, no lower degree can ever comprehend a higher." So this wall is just a way to explain why we only get a tiny glimpse into the next kingdom. And perhaps why many don't believe it exists. (They seem to figure that some exit from the spiral is just around the corner, just barely out of sight.)
So, what does this have to do with my daily life? Baha'u'llah, as I'm sure you well know, said that heaven was nearness to God. Well, what He actually said was, "They say: 'Where is Paradise, and where is Hell?' Say: 'The one is reunion with Me; the other thine own self, O thou who dost associate a partner with God and doubtest.'"
Oh, still not clear? Well, I was at a school recently in which Dr Nader Saiedi said that the Bab had defined heaven as "the fulfillment of one's potential". I cannot verify this quote, for it was, I believe, his own translation, but it sure accords with everything I've read from the Bab.
When I combine these two concepts, heaven being nearness to God, as well as fulfillment of one's potential, and then mix it in the blender of my brain with the concept of that spiral, this is what I get: We seem to be somewhere in this spiral, and have the potential to move either forwards or backwards on it a bit. Moving forwards, towards the spiritual realms, is the same as moving towards God and the fulfilling of our potential as human beings, which is likened unto heaven. If we fall prey to our selfish desires, then this is giving in to our animalistic nature, and this is moving backwards along the spiral, which is like hell.
Of course, now that I have peered into the blender of my mind, all sorts of other things begin to show themselves. Baha'u'llah, in the Seven Valleys, quotes a famous Hadith that says, "Knowledge is a single point, but the ignorant have multiplied it." Of course, there seem to be two basic branches of knowledge, namely science and religion.
Science is the discovery of the world around us, which is the acquisition of knowledge. It helps us understand how cause and effect work in the physical realm, and help us use that to our advantage. This is one way to move a little bit further around that spiral. Of course, how we use that knowledge is another thing altogether. If we use our knowledge to the benefit of the human race, then we are showing forth our virtues, helping them grow and develop, and this moves us even further around that spiral towards the outer edges. But if we use that knowledge solely for our own personal benefit, to feed our own selfish desires, then that is more animal-like and moves us further in the spiral, into the narrow portions of it.
What about religion? Well, true religion, as opposed to superstition or blind dogmatic belief, also helps us discover how the world functions. It helps us understand more about the spiritual side of cause and effect. Every religion out there gives us moral guidelines that are to our own benefit. They also provide guidance about what humanity needs at any given time, and where we should focus our attention.
In either case, science or religion, they both help us move further along that spiral of growth towards the outer layers, for we are helping develop our attribute of knowledge.
Well, presuming that we use that knowledge for good and the betterment of humanity.
But how else does this spiral help in my daily life? I remember a long time ago someone told me that one of my jobs in life was to help others develop their own potential. Now I think it is more than just that, I think I am also here to help all things develop their potential, not just other people.
Take a rock, for example. If the heaven of that rock is to fulfill its potential, then I can help it attain its own heaven by doing just that. How, I'm not exactly sure, but I like to think of my artwork as a step in that process.
I do know, though, that I could easily help it attain its own hell: Pollution.
I think that something is pollution only because it is not fulfilling its potential. When we look at something, like a piece of plastic, and only see a short-term use for it, like a bag, then once that use is done, it is considered garbage. And that must be like hell for that piece of plastic. I believe that our job as spiritual beings is to see the long-term use of everything, and ensure that it is used to the best of its ability.
When I think of the environmental movement, this is what I envision.
And you know what? The same goes for animals. If we see an elephant merely as a carrier for a piece of ivory, then we are denying the full magnificent reality of that animal.
It also goes for children. When educators see children in a class room merely as identical cogs in a machine, or as numbers by which they can get more funding, then that is a sign of the impending failure of the educational system, and a poor forecast for the future of the community.
This spiral helps me envision my own place in a very complex world, filled with incredible diversity. It helps me see how I can be of assistance to everything around me, from minerals to animals and even people. It also helps me envision my own goal in life, namely to try and move ever further around that bend.
And you know what? Some people would say that I've already succeeded! They would say that I'm already slightly around the bend.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
A Thought on Unity, part 2 of 3
Part 1 was basically about the idea of looking at the world in terms of zero to positive infinity, as opposed to negative infinity to positive infinity. Fairly straightforward, and we have the understanding of science to back it up.
This is about seeing the world in all its variety as part of a continuous whole.
For me, it all began with a book by Jane Harper, The Universe Within Us. I've written about it before, but it's still a great book filled with great insights. In the beginning of this book, Jane pointed out a quote from the Master that talks about levels of creation.
"When we consider the mineral, we find that it exists and is possessed of the power of affinity or combination. The vegetable possesses the qualities of the mineral plus the augmentative virtue or power of growth. It is, therefore, evident that the vegetable kingdom is superior to the mineral. The animal kingdom in turn possesses the qualities of the mineral and vegetable plus the five senses of perception whereof the kingdoms below it are lacking. Likewise, the power of memory inherent in the animal does not exist in the lower kingdoms.
Just as the animal is more noble than the vegetable and mineral, so man is superior to the animal. The animal is bereft of ideality -- that is to say, it is a captive of the world of nature and not in touch with that which lies within and beyond nature; it is without spiritual susceptibilities, deprived of the attractions of consciousness, unconscious of the world of God and incapable of deviating from the law of nature."
It goes on, of course, but this is enough to make the point. Needless to say, there are many other areas in which the Master describes reality in this manner.
What is interesting is how this differs from a common scientific view, which is not all that scientific any more, just common. This common view tends to see the world in terms of a giant pie. You take one giant slice and call it "minerals". You can take another giant slice and call it "vegetables". A third humongous slice would be "animals". We could then take the animal slice and further cut it up and name those smaller slices "insects", "vertebrates", mammals", and further slice them to become "felines", "canines", "hominids", and so on. The slice of the pie would get smaller and smaller as you continue to recognize more and more distinct species, or types.
This, however, does not accord with either reality or 'Abdu'l-Baha's statement.
You can rearrange these pie slices into concentric circles so that the mineral kingdom is in the centre, surrounded by the vegetable kingdom, and then the animals, and so forth, but that still shows a hard and fast delineation between all the levels, which does not accord with reality.
In the end, no matter how we configure it, if there are sharp barriers between the minerals and the plants, or the plants and the animals, or even the animals and the humans, then it does not accord with reality.
I like to think of this as the Platypus-effect. Is the platypus a mammal, since it has mammary glands and nurses its young? But it lays eggs, therefore it can't be a mammal.
Well, you know what? Nature does not adjust itself to our definitions, for our convenience. We, instead, need to adjust our definitions to reflect reality.
And so Jane adjusted the concentric circles to do just that: She made them a continuous spiral.
If we consider the centre as the mineral kingdom, which shows the power of unity, then we can move outwards towards the vegetable kingdom, which demonstrates the power of growth. Of course, we all know that crystals show the power of growth, too, in a sense, so perhaps they are further around the curve, but not quite at the range where we might call them a vegetable.
Then there are those plants that show some animalistic qualities, such as the Venus flytrap, so perhaps they are somewhere closer to animals than minerals.
And while this is not a perfect model and does break down fairly quickly, it does teach us something. For one, it shows the essential unity and fluidity of creation. It also implies that there are things within the mineral kingdom, for a spiral never ends in the centre. It just gets too small for us to see. So perhaps within the mineral kingdom we can include the sub-atomic realm, which is made up of electrons, protons, neturons, quarks, and so forth, which are not really minerals in the strictest of definitions.
It also implies that we can move outwards in a never-ending path.
Perhaps from the animal kingdom it moves outwards towards the human realm, and from there into the spiritual realms. We can only get a glimpse of it right now, for the vast majority of it is just around the corner, or around the bend.
Or perhaps I've gone around the bend.
Either way, I like to think of creation in this way now. From zero to infinity. From the very basic particles of creation spiraling outwards towards God. No matter how I think of it, it is a path that I can continue to tread for the rest of time, moving ever-onwards, upwards, or outwards.
This is about seeing the world in all its variety as part of a continuous whole.
For me, it all began with a book by Jane Harper, The Universe Within Us. I've written about it before, but it's still a great book filled with great insights. In the beginning of this book, Jane pointed out a quote from the Master that talks about levels of creation.
"When we consider the mineral, we find that it exists and is possessed of the power of affinity or combination. The vegetable possesses the qualities of the mineral plus the augmentative virtue or power of growth. It is, therefore, evident that the vegetable kingdom is superior to the mineral. The animal kingdom in turn possesses the qualities of the mineral and vegetable plus the five senses of perception whereof the kingdoms below it are lacking. Likewise, the power of memory inherent in the animal does not exist in the lower kingdoms.
Just as the animal is more noble than the vegetable and mineral, so man is superior to the animal. The animal is bereft of ideality -- that is to say, it is a captive of the world of nature and not in touch with that which lies within and beyond nature; it is without spiritual susceptibilities, deprived of the attractions of consciousness, unconscious of the world of God and incapable of deviating from the law of nature."
It goes on, of course, but this is enough to make the point. Needless to say, there are many other areas in which the Master describes reality in this manner.
What is interesting is how this differs from a common scientific view, which is not all that scientific any more, just common. This common view tends to see the world in terms of a giant pie. You take one giant slice and call it "minerals". You can take another giant slice and call it "vegetables". A third humongous slice would be "animals". We could then take the animal slice and further cut it up and name those smaller slices "insects", "vertebrates", mammals", and further slice them to become "felines", "canines", "hominids", and so on. The slice of the pie would get smaller and smaller as you continue to recognize more and more distinct species, or types.
This, however, does not accord with either reality or 'Abdu'l-Baha's statement.
You can rearrange these pie slices into concentric circles so that the mineral kingdom is in the centre, surrounded by the vegetable kingdom, and then the animals, and so forth, but that still shows a hard and fast delineation between all the levels, which does not accord with reality.
In the end, no matter how we configure it, if there are sharp barriers between the minerals and the plants, or the plants and the animals, or even the animals and the humans, then it does not accord with reality.
I like to think of this as the Platypus-effect. Is the platypus a mammal, since it has mammary glands and nurses its young? But it lays eggs, therefore it can't be a mammal.
Well, you know what? Nature does not adjust itself to our definitions, for our convenience. We, instead, need to adjust our definitions to reflect reality.
And so Jane adjusted the concentric circles to do just that: She made them a continuous spiral.
If we consider the centre as the mineral kingdom, which shows the power of unity, then we can move outwards towards the vegetable kingdom, which demonstrates the power of growth. Of course, we all know that crystals show the power of growth, too, in a sense, so perhaps they are further around the curve, but not quite at the range where we might call them a vegetable.
Then there are those plants that show some animalistic qualities, such as the Venus flytrap, so perhaps they are somewhere closer to animals than minerals.
And while this is not a perfect model and does break down fairly quickly, it does teach us something. For one, it shows the essential unity and fluidity of creation. It also implies that there are things within the mineral kingdom, for a spiral never ends in the centre. It just gets too small for us to see. So perhaps within the mineral kingdom we can include the sub-atomic realm, which is made up of electrons, protons, neturons, quarks, and so forth, which are not really minerals in the strictest of definitions.
It also implies that we can move outwards in a never-ending path.
Perhaps from the animal kingdom it moves outwards towards the human realm, and from there into the spiritual realms. We can only get a glimpse of it right now, for the vast majority of it is just around the corner, or around the bend.
Or perhaps I've gone around the bend.
Either way, I like to think of creation in this way now. From zero to infinity. From the very basic particles of creation spiraling outwards towards God. No matter how I think of it, it is a path that I can continue to tread for the rest of time, moving ever-onwards, upwards, or outwards.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
A Thought on Unity, part 1 of 3
Many people see the world in terms of dichotomies. They believe that we are either right or wrong. It is, for them, a binary world made up of black and white stark contrasts.
But as I look outside my window this morning, I don't see a black and white world. I see a multicoloured variegated world, except for the sky. The sky is a fairly uniform grey this morning. But the world itself is filled with colours.
As I think about this view, I realize that there are no negatives in nature.
No, really, there aren't.
"Error", Abdu'l-Baha writes, "is lack of guidance; darkness is absence of light; ignorance is lack of knowledge; falsehood is lack of truthfulness; blindness is lack of sight; and deafness is lack of hearing."
Back to dichotomies. Many people see the world as a place where there is evil on one side and good on another, and somewhere in the middle is a nebulous zero. We start way at the left and somehow move more and more to the right. We're wrong, we're wrong, we're wrong, cross that zero and "poof" we're right. And when you cross that point you somehow become good, saved, a member of their religion, or some other sort of wondrous thing.
But this isn't really the case, is it? When you walk into a dark room and want to read a book, you don't somehow remove the darkness bit by bit, so that the room gets less and less dark, until there is no darkness left, and then begin to add light, do you?
No. You turn on the light.
I have talked about this for years, and it seems kind of strange to me to write this down after so long, but really, it seems more and more important these days.
Another way to look at it is with the idea that we crudely divide religions into two categories. The first are the salvation-based religions. We're either saved or we're damned. It's a very binary way of looking at the world, as I said above. We live our life and then we either go to heaven or hell. Of course, a major change occurred in that view over a thousand years ago when we could suddenly go to purgatory instead, but that's just a washing station on our way to heaven, so it's still heaven or hell. And this way of seeing the world around us is very divisive. You are either for us or against us. It's an us and them model that is not very conducive to either seeing strangers as part of your family nor for showing compassion. I mean, "I'm sorry you're going to hell" is not exactly a higher form of compassion.
The second type of religion would be a spiritual growth based religion. The model for this one would be to start at 0 and work your way towards infinity.
We begin with darkness and continually add more and more light. We begin with ignorance and continually add more and more knowledge. We know nothing of Baha'u'llah or God or any of the various spiritual issues, and continually increase our understanding day by day through reading, studying and applying what we learn.
We can never know infinity, can never get there, but we can always move further and further towards it.
And when we discuss spiritual issues with other people we understand what it is like to have not known something, for there was a time when we were learning, too. We also recognize that it is not strictly linear. There are some things that I have learned in my life, and other things you have learned in yours. It is only through each of sharing with the other that we can best increase our overall knowledge, and our insights into the Writings.
To me, this not only leads us to compassion, but also towards unity, for we are continually seeking to discover more. And we are open to learning what others have discovered, too. Nobody is "right" or "wrong". There is no dichotomy. We have all just learned different things and are all on that long road towards infinity together.
Of course, this doesn't always hold true in the microcosm of things. There are times when we are wrong. For example, if we try to claim that 2 + 2 = 5, our math teacher will mark it wrong. Or if, like I once did, we give a public talk about how marvelous it is that the Bab declared His mission on the first day of spring.
Fortunately for me, in that latter case, people had compassion and only corrected me later.
But as I look outside my window this morning, I don't see a black and white world. I see a multicoloured variegated world, except for the sky. The sky is a fairly uniform grey this morning. But the world itself is filled with colours.
As I think about this view, I realize that there are no negatives in nature.
No, really, there aren't.
"Error", Abdu'l-Baha writes, "is lack of guidance; darkness is absence of light; ignorance is lack of knowledge; falsehood is lack of truthfulness; blindness is lack of sight; and deafness is lack of hearing."
Back to dichotomies. Many people see the world as a place where there is evil on one side and good on another, and somewhere in the middle is a nebulous zero. We start way at the left and somehow move more and more to the right. We're wrong, we're wrong, we're wrong, cross that zero and "poof" we're right. And when you cross that point you somehow become good, saved, a member of their religion, or some other sort of wondrous thing.
But this isn't really the case, is it? When you walk into a dark room and want to read a book, you don't somehow remove the darkness bit by bit, so that the room gets less and less dark, until there is no darkness left, and then begin to add light, do you?
No. You turn on the light.
I have talked about this for years, and it seems kind of strange to me to write this down after so long, but really, it seems more and more important these days.
Another way to look at it is with the idea that we crudely divide religions into two categories. The first are the salvation-based religions. We're either saved or we're damned. It's a very binary way of looking at the world, as I said above. We live our life and then we either go to heaven or hell. Of course, a major change occurred in that view over a thousand years ago when we could suddenly go to purgatory instead, but that's just a washing station on our way to heaven, so it's still heaven or hell. And this way of seeing the world around us is very divisive. You are either for us or against us. It's an us and them model that is not very conducive to either seeing strangers as part of your family nor for showing compassion. I mean, "I'm sorry you're going to hell" is not exactly a higher form of compassion.
The second type of religion would be a spiritual growth based religion. The model for this one would be to start at 0 and work your way towards infinity.
We begin with darkness and continually add more and more light. We begin with ignorance and continually add more and more knowledge. We know nothing of Baha'u'llah or God or any of the various spiritual issues, and continually increase our understanding day by day through reading, studying and applying what we learn.
We can never know infinity, can never get there, but we can always move further and further towards it.
And when we discuss spiritual issues with other people we understand what it is like to have not known something, for there was a time when we were learning, too. We also recognize that it is not strictly linear. There are some things that I have learned in my life, and other things you have learned in yours. It is only through each of sharing with the other that we can best increase our overall knowledge, and our insights into the Writings.
To me, this not only leads us to compassion, but also towards unity, for we are continually seeking to discover more. And we are open to learning what others have discovered, too. Nobody is "right" or "wrong". There is no dichotomy. We have all just learned different things and are all on that long road towards infinity together.
Of course, this doesn't always hold true in the microcosm of things. There are times when we are wrong. For example, if we try to claim that 2 + 2 = 5, our math teacher will mark it wrong. Or if, like I once did, we give a public talk about how marvelous it is that the Bab declared His mission on the first day of spring.
Fortunately for me, in that latter case, people had compassion and only corrected me later.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Maps and Reality
A map cannot tell you where to go if you don't know where you are.
That was the realization I had the other day when driving around looking for something.
It seems to me that the same is true within the Baha'i community. The Universal House of Justice has given us so much guidance on where we are heading as both a community and as a planet, but unless we understand where we are, within our own community and within the world, we won't necessarily know how to get there.
In recent messages, the guidance from the World Centre seems to be more and more focused on helping us understand how to "read our own reality". But what does that mean?
Well, as I'm sure you know by now, whatever I say here is only my own personal opinion and nothing official. It's merely my own thoughts on these ideas based on the Writings and on my own personal experience. (Ok. Sometimes it's based on what I hear of other people's experience, but I experienced them talking about it, right?)
So, what does it mean to read our own reality?
I think it means having a clearer understanding of what is going on around you, why it is happening, and how it came about. It is almost like being a reporter. You ask who, what, where, when and why. The who is you. The what is whatever is happening. The where is where you happen to be. The when is now. And the why? Well, that can be a bit more difficult.
Time for an example.
I live just outside Victoria, BC, on beautiful Vancouver Island, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. It is quite the remarkable place, what with the weather and all. And yet something seems a bit different than when I was living on the prairies. Oh, not just weather-wise, but in terms of people. I mean, sure, in Winnipeg the weather was always + or - 40 Celsius, and here the range is 2 - 22 Celsius, but there is something very different about the community itself.
I've given lots of thought to this, and have talked to many people about it, and I have a few ideas, be they right or wrong. For now I'm going on the assumption that they are right, and will examine them again at a later date.
First of all, Winnipeg was generally settled by people who were into agriculture. Now I'm not just talking about the Aboriginal peoples, but really moreso about the later settlers. They often came because they were part of a community that was being persecuted and were looking for a new home. The traces of that mentality are still there. They worked together in order to survive. And not just for that historic reason, but for a very simple geological reason, too. You see, when I would walk outside my front door in the city, I could see my neighbours. I could see my neighbour's neighbours. I could literally see for miles down the street. I saw everyone, and I felt like I knew everyone. And people helped each other just as a matter of course. If I saw a car stopped on the side of the road in the wintertime, I had to see if they needed help, because if I didn't they would likely die. There is a sense of community on the prairies that is so deep and so natural that we never really think about it. It is as much a part of life and breathing.
Here, in BC, when I look out my window I see half a block. After that there are either trees or a hill. If I see someone pulled by the side of the road, I don't really need to stop, for the weather isn't all that severe. In the winter, they won't die, they'll get wet. And this area was settled by people who wanted to get away from it all. They were trying to get away from the sprawl of Vancouver or Seattle, or they came to do some mining on their own to see if they could strike it rich.
Even when I look at the Aboriginal population that was here, and compare it to the prairies, there is a world of difference. On the prairies the various nations have huge territories. They are truly ginormous. (Giant and enormous weren't big enough so I had to combine them.) But here, there is something like 6 distinct nations in a very small area.
It seems to me that the land itself moves people towards a sense of individuality in this area.
And that's not necessarily a bad thing. But it does mean that I need to adapt how I teach the Faith. I don't begin by talking about community. That's not really a topic on most people's radar. They want things that are more conducive towards individual growth, such as meditation, or yoga, or health food. And you know what? Ruhi Book 1 is all about the individual. It isn't until we get to Book 2 that we really begin to shift our focus towards something external. And that's ok. I've learned to trust that process. And I've learned to look at what people are interested in around this area and work with that. It's sort of like that question I love to ask around Ruhi Book 6: What topic will you begin with? You need to know your audience to understand what topic is of the most interest to them.
Just this past weekend I was talking to someone about teaching and she was wondering how she could teach her daughter the Faith. I asked her what her daughter was interested in. She thought about it for a moment and said, "I don't know."
My advice? "Talk to her. Ask her what interests her and just listen. She will tell what concerns her and then you can help her find the answers in the Writings."
You see, this whole thing about maps and knowing our reality is no different from "the divine Physician" and His prescribing the remedy we need. Before a doctor can prescribe a remedy, they have to know what the illness is. And how do they find out? They take our pulse, read our blood pressure, talk to us, get to know our symptoms, and so on. They read our reality. And as they are aware of what a healthy should look like, they can help us find the path that will lead there.
So. Maps. Reality.
How do I try to discover the reality in my neighbourhood? I just talk to people. I ask them heartfelt questions, and listen carefully to their answers. After all, the Universal House of Justice has given us a vision of what a healthy community looks like and the path to achieve it, so we need to discover where we currently are on that path. If the House of Justice tell us to do a particular thing at a particular time, then it would be fairly silly for us to do it if we're not there yet. It would be like taking a left turn three streets before you should. I mean, you can, and you might get where you need to go, or you may have just ended up taking a much longer route.
I know what my interests are, but when I'm talking to others, I need to talk about their interests. If I don't, well, they won't be interested, will they? I mean, I might get lucky, but why not find out first?
How about you? What is the reality in your neighbourhood? What are the most pressing issues people have where you live? And if you don't really know, how will you go about finding out?
That was the realization I had the other day when driving around looking for something.
It seems to me that the same is true within the Baha'i community. The Universal House of Justice has given us so much guidance on where we are heading as both a community and as a planet, but unless we understand where we are, within our own community and within the world, we won't necessarily know how to get there.
In recent messages, the guidance from the World Centre seems to be more and more focused on helping us understand how to "read our own reality". But what does that mean?
Well, as I'm sure you know by now, whatever I say here is only my own personal opinion and nothing official. It's merely my own thoughts on these ideas based on the Writings and on my own personal experience. (Ok. Sometimes it's based on what I hear of other people's experience, but I experienced them talking about it, right?)
So, what does it mean to read our own reality?
I think it means having a clearer understanding of what is going on around you, why it is happening, and how it came about. It is almost like being a reporter. You ask who, what, where, when and why. The who is you. The what is whatever is happening. The where is where you happen to be. The when is now. And the why? Well, that can be a bit more difficult.
Time for an example.
I live just outside Victoria, BC, on beautiful Vancouver Island, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. It is quite the remarkable place, what with the weather and all. And yet something seems a bit different than when I was living on the prairies. Oh, not just weather-wise, but in terms of people. I mean, sure, in Winnipeg the weather was always + or - 40 Celsius, and here the range is 2 - 22 Celsius, but there is something very different about the community itself.
I've given lots of thought to this, and have talked to many people about it, and I have a few ideas, be they right or wrong. For now I'm going on the assumption that they are right, and will examine them again at a later date.
First of all, Winnipeg was generally settled by people who were into agriculture. Now I'm not just talking about the Aboriginal peoples, but really moreso about the later settlers. They often came because they were part of a community that was being persecuted and were looking for a new home. The traces of that mentality are still there. They worked together in order to survive. And not just for that historic reason, but for a very simple geological reason, too. You see, when I would walk outside my front door in the city, I could see my neighbours. I could see my neighbour's neighbours. I could literally see for miles down the street. I saw everyone, and I felt like I knew everyone. And people helped each other just as a matter of course. If I saw a car stopped on the side of the road in the wintertime, I had to see if they needed help, because if I didn't they would likely die. There is a sense of community on the prairies that is so deep and so natural that we never really think about it. It is as much a part of life and breathing.
Here, in BC, when I look out my window I see half a block. After that there are either trees or a hill. If I see someone pulled by the side of the road, I don't really need to stop, for the weather isn't all that severe. In the winter, they won't die, they'll get wet. And this area was settled by people who wanted to get away from it all. They were trying to get away from the sprawl of Vancouver or Seattle, or they came to do some mining on their own to see if they could strike it rich.
Even when I look at the Aboriginal population that was here, and compare it to the prairies, there is a world of difference. On the prairies the various nations have huge territories. They are truly ginormous. (Giant and enormous weren't big enough so I had to combine them.) But here, there is something like 6 distinct nations in a very small area.
It seems to me that the land itself moves people towards a sense of individuality in this area.
And that's not necessarily a bad thing. But it does mean that I need to adapt how I teach the Faith. I don't begin by talking about community. That's not really a topic on most people's radar. They want things that are more conducive towards individual growth, such as meditation, or yoga, or health food. And you know what? Ruhi Book 1 is all about the individual. It isn't until we get to Book 2 that we really begin to shift our focus towards something external. And that's ok. I've learned to trust that process. And I've learned to look at what people are interested in around this area and work with that. It's sort of like that question I love to ask around Ruhi Book 6: What topic will you begin with? You need to know your audience to understand what topic is of the most interest to them.
Just this past weekend I was talking to someone about teaching and she was wondering how she could teach her daughter the Faith. I asked her what her daughter was interested in. She thought about it for a moment and said, "I don't know."
My advice? "Talk to her. Ask her what interests her and just listen. She will tell what concerns her and then you can help her find the answers in the Writings."
You see, this whole thing about maps and knowing our reality is no different from "the divine Physician" and His prescribing the remedy we need. Before a doctor can prescribe a remedy, they have to know what the illness is. And how do they find out? They take our pulse, read our blood pressure, talk to us, get to know our symptoms, and so on. They read our reality. And as they are aware of what a healthy should look like, they can help us find the path that will lead there.
So. Maps. Reality.
How do I try to discover the reality in my neighbourhood? I just talk to people. I ask them heartfelt questions, and listen carefully to their answers. After all, the Universal House of Justice has given us a vision of what a healthy community looks like and the path to achieve it, so we need to discover where we currently are on that path. If the House of Justice tell us to do a particular thing at a particular time, then it would be fairly silly for us to do it if we're not there yet. It would be like taking a left turn three streets before you should. I mean, you can, and you might get where you need to go, or you may have just ended up taking a much longer route.
I know what my interests are, but when I'm talking to others, I need to talk about their interests. If I don't, well, they won't be interested, will they? I mean, I might get lucky, but why not find out first?
How about you? What is the reality in your neighbourhood? What are the most pressing issues people have where you live? And if you don't really know, how will you go about finding out?
Friday, May 23, 2014
Butterflies
For some reason my heart just sings over butterflies. I've never quite understood why, but I just love those little flutterers of colour.
Yesterday I was at the market, selling my jewelry when I went to say hi to a friend down the way. While talking with her, another friend, Sahar, came by with her pal Greg. It was quite wonderful to see them. As we walked back to my booth I saw an injured butterfly on the ground. Without even thinking about it, I bent over and let him walk onto my finger, and for the next hour that butterfly found a refuge by clinging to my shirt. When I came home the butterfly was now on my backpack, and I asked Shoghi to go out to the car and bring him in to the greenhouse tent in our back yard. We put him on a flower in there, and placed a small dish of sugar water nearby. I truly thought this injured little guy would perish in the night, but to my surprise, when I checked on him this morning, he was quite well, resting by the flap of the tent. And that, dear Reader, made my heart sing.
It also made me think about butterflies today.
And you know what? I think the Baha'i community in many areas is like a butterfly. Do you remember the old saying about how we are sometimes like a butterfly, starting off as a caterpillar and then becoming transformed into a beautiful butterfly? Sounds nice, right? Well, sometimes I think that little metaphor is a bit simplistic.
I was thinking about that the other day and realized that this isn't exactly what happens. It's a bit more complex, a bit more enlightening. The little caterpillar goes around munching on the leaves until one day it decides that it's time to change. Of course, this isn't usually a conscious decision. It is often forced by necessity of nature.
And there it goes. It finds a nice little place of safety and spends a bit of time wrapping itself in its cocoon. (Yes, I know that sometimes the cocoon exudes from its skin, but work with me here.) Then it spends quite a bit of time inside there. And it's not that it's doing nothing, resting and waiting. No. It's going through a massive inner transformation. It dissolves. It becomes a liquid. It truly undergoes an incredible and radical change that is not visible to one looking at it from the outside.
Only after this astonishing metamorphosis does it emerge.
And then, you know what? It rests. The butterfly will sit there for many hours resting after its tiring ordeal.
It isn't until it takes the necessary time to rest, to allow its wings to dry out and gather its strength that it will finally take flight.
That's where I think we are. Most of us, at least. The Universal House of Justice, in the2014 Ridvan message, spoke of a "lull in activity" that sometimes occurs in a community. And that's perfectly natural. Of course, it doesn't mean that we should be content and just sit there doing nothing. But rather that we should recognize it as part of the process of growth and transformation, not get discouraged, search on the reasons for the impasse and strive to move forward. But it takes time. And that's ok.
That's what I've learned from the butterfly.
I think that right now many of us, many of our communities, are undergoing this transformation. Perhaps it is not visible to those looking from the outside, but we are changing nonetheless.Some thing that we have taken for granted, such as walking around on those little legs, may not be needed anymore. We may change them for the long and beautiful legs of a butterfly. And you know what? Necessary as they are, they won't be our primary mode of transportation anymore. No. We'll mainly use our wings.
Of course, I have no idea what those wings will be, but I look forward to learning about it with the rest of us.
Yesterday I was at the market, selling my jewelry when I went to say hi to a friend down the way. While talking with her, another friend, Sahar, came by with her pal Greg. It was quite wonderful to see them. As we walked back to my booth I saw an injured butterfly on the ground. Without even thinking about it, I bent over and let him walk onto my finger, and for the next hour that butterfly found a refuge by clinging to my shirt. When I came home the butterfly was now on my backpack, and I asked Shoghi to go out to the car and bring him in to the greenhouse tent in our back yard. We put him on a flower in there, and placed a small dish of sugar water nearby. I truly thought this injured little guy would perish in the night, but to my surprise, when I checked on him this morning, he was quite well, resting by the flap of the tent. And that, dear Reader, made my heart sing.
It also made me think about butterflies today.
And you know what? I think the Baha'i community in many areas is like a butterfly. Do you remember the old saying about how we are sometimes like a butterfly, starting off as a caterpillar and then becoming transformed into a beautiful butterfly? Sounds nice, right? Well, sometimes I think that little metaphor is a bit simplistic.
I was thinking about that the other day and realized that this isn't exactly what happens. It's a bit more complex, a bit more enlightening. The little caterpillar goes around munching on the leaves until one day it decides that it's time to change. Of course, this isn't usually a conscious decision. It is often forced by necessity of nature.
And there it goes. It finds a nice little place of safety and spends a bit of time wrapping itself in its cocoon. (Yes, I know that sometimes the cocoon exudes from its skin, but work with me here.) Then it spends quite a bit of time inside there. And it's not that it's doing nothing, resting and waiting. No. It's going through a massive inner transformation. It dissolves. It becomes a liquid. It truly undergoes an incredible and radical change that is not visible to one looking at it from the outside.
Only after this astonishing metamorphosis does it emerge.
And then, you know what? It rests. The butterfly will sit there for many hours resting after its tiring ordeal.
It isn't until it takes the necessary time to rest, to allow its wings to dry out and gather its strength that it will finally take flight.
That's where I think we are. Most of us, at least. The Universal House of Justice, in the2014 Ridvan message, spoke of a "lull in activity" that sometimes occurs in a community. And that's perfectly natural. Of course, it doesn't mean that we should be content and just sit there doing nothing. But rather that we should recognize it as part of the process of growth and transformation, not get discouraged, search on the reasons for the impasse and strive to move forward. But it takes time. And that's ok.
That's what I've learned from the butterfly.
I think that right now many of us, many of our communities, are undergoing this transformation. Perhaps it is not visible to those looking from the outside, but we are changing nonetheless.Some thing that we have taken for granted, such as walking around on those little legs, may not be needed anymore. We may change them for the long and beautiful legs of a butterfly. And you know what? Necessary as they are, they won't be our primary mode of transportation anymore. No. We'll mainly use our wings.
Of course, I have no idea what those wings will be, but I look forward to learning about it with the rest of us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
