This is the seond in a series looking at the multifarious groups and organizations around the world that have been inspired to envision in their own way the Teachings Bahá’u’lláh loosed upon the world in the 19th Century. Bahá’ís not only consort with the followers of all religions in a spirit of friendliness, but seek especially to connect with like-minded people who seek to inculcate these ideals for the betterment of the planet and its inhabitants.
In 1892 Bahá'u'lláh passed from this world, having completed His mission to bring a Revelation from God to this needy world. In 1893 a Columbian Expo was held in Chicago to commemorate the 400th Anniversary of Columbus’ discovery of America, showcasing the glorious advancements in science and technology. Almost as an afterthought, a World Parliament of Religions was added to it, ostensibly to show the superiority of the Christian Faith over all the others that were slowly garnering public attention with the opening up of the world to travel and communication. However, man plans and God laughs. Events did not follow the script. The Parliament of Religions outshone the Expo in notoriety, and the stars of the show were deemed minor players at the outset.
7000 attended, and some of the notables were Gandhi representing the Jains, and Annie Besant representing the Theosophical Society. Enter Swami Vivekananda (pictured above), #31 on the roster. Indian spiritual thought preceded any actual exponents to America through the Transcendentalist Movement headed by such figures as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Walt Whitman, but now here was one in the flesh, not merely a Hindu priest but the chief disciple of the latest God-man of India, Ramakrishna (1836 -1886). The delegates arose one by one and delivered prepared speeches, but when it came his turn, Vivekananda was too nervous to speak, seized with stage fright, so postponed several times. It became known that he did not have a prepared script and would speak from his heart. So when he finally got up the gumption, all eyes were expectantly on him. He began by bowing to Saraswati, the Goddess of Wisdom, and began, “Sisters and Brothers of America,” which so touched a nerve that these five words aroused a spontaneous 2-minute standing ovation. He proceeded to speak to everyone’s astonishment not of his own religion as all of the others had, but of tolerance and acceptance, quoting “As different streams, having their sources in different places, all mingle their water in the sea, so, O Lord, the different paths which men take . . . all lead to Thee.” Deafening applause followed his final plea for the quick termination of sectarianism, bigotry, and fanaticism. He had hit on the hidden hope of all, a desperate desire for unity.
He gave six addresses over the course of the Parliament, which included these words on Sept. 19: “If there is ever to be a universal religion, it must be one which will have no location in place or time; which will be infinite, like the God it will preach, and whose sun will shine upon the followers of Krishna and Christ, on saints and sinners alike; which will not be Brahminical or Buddhist, Christian or Mohammedan, but the sum total of all these, and still have infinite space for development; which in its catholicity will embrace in its infinite arms, and find a place for, every human being, from the lowest groveling savage, not far removed from the brute, to the highest man, towering by the virtues of his head and heart almost above humanity, making society stand in awe of him and doubt his human nature. It will be a religion which will have no place for persecution or intolerance in its polity, which will recognize divinity in every man and woman, and whose whole scope, whose whole force, will be centred in aiding humanity to realize its own true, divine nature.”
There was yet another event of significance at the Parliament that was less evident at the time. On Sept. 23, Rev. George Ford of Syria read a paper sent by Henry Jessup, Director of Presbyterian Missionary Operations in North Syria, which ended thus:
“In the Palace of Bahjí, or Delight, just outside the Fortress of 'Akká, on the Syrian coast, there died a few months since, a famous Persian sage, the Bábí Saint, named Bahá'u'lláh --the "Glory of God"-- the head of that vast reform party of Persian Muslims, who accept the New Testament as the Word of God and Christ as the Deliverer of men, who regard all nations as one, and all men as brothers. Three years ago he was visited by a Cambridge scholar [Edward Granville Browne] and gave utterance to sentiments so noble, so Christlike, that we repeat them as our closing words:
“‘That all nations should become one in faith and all men as brothers; that the bonds of affection and unity between the sons of men should be strengthened; that diversity of religions should cease and differences of race be annulled. What harm is there in this? Yet so it shall be. These fruitless strifes, these ruinous wars shall pass away, and the 'Most Great Peace' shall come. Do not you in Europe need this also? Let not a man glory in this, that he loves his country; let him rather glory in this, that he loves his kind.’”
Now it sounds like Jessup was trying to affirm that the teachings of Christ were gaining ascendancy among the Muslim strongholds in the Holy Land, but Bahá’ís point to this as the first public mention of the Bahá’í Faith in America. This paved the way for several pockets of burgeoning Bahá’í communities, and the 239-day tour of North America by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, son of Baháu’lláh in 1912 was feted with great celebrity by the media, and this “Persian sage” spoke to audiences of thousands in universities, churches and synagogues, hotels, etc., from New York to San Francisco, as well as leaders and intellectuals of the day, such as Theodore Roosevelt and Alexander Graham Bell. The most visible legacies of this are the communities of believers in every state and major city in America, and the magnificent House of Worship in Chicago that draws visitors in six figures annually. The legacy of Vivekananda is also two-pronged, spawning interest in the Orient from which have sprung virtually all authentic spiritual movements, and the establishment of hospitals in India which still bear the names of him and his master.
There are a number of remarkable parallels in the careers of Vivekananda and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá: they were both the celebrated right-hand man of the central figure that they humbly served, both blazed trails in America and Europe, both were instrumental in social and spiritual revolutions, and both were indispensable heroes to the propagation of holy messages, both spoke of the new consciousness of unity of religion and mankind, and they were virtual contemporaries, though the two never met.