A particular comment in Louis Gregory's biography struck me as illustrating the combination of personal responsibility and material detachment in Reinhold Niebuhr famous prayer, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference."
It was about three years ago, while attending a conference at Green Acre Bahá'í School in Eliot, Maine, that I had the bounty of making a sunrise pilgrimage to the burial site of Louis Gregory, Hand of the Cause of Bahá'u'lláh. At the time I knew little about him — that he was an early African-American adherent of the Bahá'í Faith, a fantastic and tireless teacher, well-loved by 'Abdu'l-Bahá, and thanks to the Master’s encouragement, one-half of perhaps the first black/white Bahá'í marriage in the U.S.
A friend asked about the need for the concept of "fear of God" in the Baháí Faith. Can one be a Baháí without it? More generally, do Baháís accept that there can be compassion and altruism without this "fear"? I found the simple answer today: no (read on for the references). But as with so many concepts, it seems important to dig into the words, exploring their literal and symbolic meaning both inclusive of and apart from our pre-conceived notions.
While it was unfortunate that we were not able to see the Shrine of the Báb in all its golden-domed grandeur (covered over during on-going rehab), we had the bounty of being only the third pilgrim group to visit the restored Ridván Garden outside of 'Akká. The Bahá'í World News Service has an excellent article, from October 2010, on the restoration work and the history of the garden: Holy place restoration sheds light on region's heritage.
It is indeed a beautiful and calming place, and one can well imagine the relief of leaving the horrid conditions of the city to spend a few hours in joyful company on the island. This entire complex is filled with trees and plants descended from those brought across the deserts by pilgrims from Persia (as mentioned somewhere in The Chosen Highway), particularly cypress, pomegranate, and various citrus fruits (the tangerines were ripe and wonderful!). The peace and tranquility in this site, which is only a few hundred yards from apartment buildings, could easily send one into a rapturous state.
A friend recently told me about this passage from the collection of Bahá'u'lláh's writings called Prayers and Meditations. In Facebook conversation I've been talking about my limited and impersonal understanding of "God". This passage might seem a bit paradoxical to that viewpoint, at first glance. The paradox is because of my inability to precisely describe the nuance of a belief that lies somewhere between the poles of atheism and personal theism, without recourse to philosophical language (the best "school of thought" to describe my own core belief has always been panentheism).
In responding to a friend about the nature of the "god concept" in the Bahá'í Faith, I began to collect a number of passages and add a few comments as to why I chose them. And then I found this hitherto unknown (to me) statement from 'Abdu'l-Bahá. It could not be more plain, and completely justifies what a fellow Bahá'í once said to an atheistically-inclined friend: "I don't believe in the same God you don't believe in."
There is more to show about the holy sites and places visited, but first I want to share some miscellaneous photos of birds, fruits, trees, and a bee.
The words "thou" and "thee" are unfamiliar to most of us, except in the context of sacred writ (particularly the King James Bible). Thus many of us think of "thou" as very formal. In some Dostoyevsky novel, I encountered something to the effect of "why did you address me with the familiar thou?". That got me thinking: is "thou" is an outdated form of familar address, like "tú" compared to "su" in Spanish? Well, more or less, though that distinction may not do it justice in the context of sacred literature.
Four members of the "Holy Family" are buried in the second major development of the Bahá'í World Centre (the prior being the mausoleum of the Báb): Ásíyih Khánum (the "Most Exalted Leaf", "Navváb"), wife of Bahá'u'lláh, their children Bahíyyih Khánum (the "Greatest Holy Leaf") and Mírzá Mihdí (the "Purest Branch"), and Munírih Khánum, wife of 'Abdu'l-Bahá. Although it is not part of the scheduled tour of holy places, we felt it was essential that we pay our respects to these departed souls, who gave everything to the Faith.
I took my nook on pilgrimage, with a whole slew of Bahá'í e-books. I realized after the first day that I wanted to read a first-hand account from a pilgrim who visited the Holy Land during the time of the Master, 'Abdu'l-Bahá. I had already read God Passes By just last year, The Dawnbreakers some years ago, Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era fairly recently, and several other books dealing with Babí and Bahá'í history. So I decided to try out Lady Blomfield's The Chosen Highway — and was well-rewarded for it.
