Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Anna Schmanna

You heard it here first: Anna’s Presentation is boring! What? Allow me to explain.

What the Bahá’í World has come to know as “Anna’s Presentation” is excerpted from Ruhi Institute Book 6, Unit Two, Sections 6-19, and is the brainchild of Dr. Arbab and perhaps his associates, distilled from the experience of Bahá’ís around the world. It is the idealized, comprehensive unfolding of the Faith through the vehicle of a fictional, remarkable, well-nigh unbelievable seventeen-year old as expounded to her Catholic school friend Emilia. (“Well-nigh,” since the Faith actually does sprout such prodigious youth.) The style of it is reminiscent of Plato’s Republic in that one person is expounding while the other(s) merely give laconic assent to its inexorable flow. From the turn of this Gregorian Millenium this presentation has been increasingly touted as the teaching tool sin qua non in the mounting crescendo of emphasis on direct teaching. We now have full-colour booklets replete with gorgeous photography, flip charts, and power point presentations, and Anna is the rock star of the current Five-Year Plan.

But whoa, just a minute. Occasionally we go overboard in our enthusiasm. In some quarters it is recommended that those going forth to teach memorize it in toto and regurgitate it when we find receptive souls. First of all, we are not selling the Faith like Encyclopaedia Brittanica so we’re not giving a prefabricated spiel that has a proven track record, and secondly, in difficulty it is roughly equivalent to memorizing Act II, Sc. 2 of Hamlet. And most importantly, giving it in its published form is like listening to deadpan comedian Steve Wright recite The Tell-Tale Heart – boring! The Institutions of the Faith have lately recognized this, and are encouraging the believers to animate their renditions with their own personal zeal for the Faith.

So why do we use it and what is its value? It really answers the question, “How do I teach the Faith -- what do I say?” Most of us in introducing the Bahá’í Faith to a person unfamiliar with it choose certain aspects of it we are comfortable with, the principles or the history or the community, for example. Or else we say things that are perhaps meaningful for us, but give little glimpse of the big picture, such as, “For me it is about hope.” Or perhaps even more commonly, “I finally found a religion that teaches what I have always believed.” Over the years I have been time and again taken aback by the things that have come out of Bahá’ís mouths, having no context or connection to the virgin listener, such as the Infallibility of the Manifestations, stories of the martyrs, personal reminiscences of meeting a Hand of the Cause, their own struggles with a particular Bahá’í law, or some other matter that requires considerable groundwork. Few of us give a comprehensive view, the skeleton of the entire colossal edifice, which would in the course of a few or even a single meeting, give a seeker a sufficient overview to decide whether his own soul has connected with it. How many of us have encountered the same seekers at firesides month after month, year after year, who still have little grasp of the “fundamental verities” that lie at the heart of this glorious path to God? And this is the genius of Anna’s Presentation, that it gives a panoramic view of this vaaaaaaaaaaaast ocean.

So yes, we ought to internalize this guide, and then be prepared to talk about the Central Figures with the love we have for Them, the Administration with all the reverence and obedience we have for its Institutions, the laws, the worldwide community, the core activities that prepare souls to usher in a new age of humanity, the mighty socially transformative principles, the Covenant, Progressive Revelation, the beautiful prayers and majestic words of the writings, and our central passion for teaching in our quest for the holy grail of uniting all of mankind.

Monday, April 13, 2009

The Face of My Lord




******** Every Easter brings much the same spate of movies of the life of Jesus Christ, and ever since I was very very young, I thought: this can’t be right – surely Jesus did not look and act like a washed-up, drug-sodden, syphilitic ex-rocker spewing those famous world-changing words à la Bob Dylan, which is largely how He is portrayed in Hollywood. And even different interpretations, like The Last Temptation of Christ or The Passion of the Christ don’t do it for me. I had often asked myself what Christ was really like – was he the man of sorrows depicted to me by my teachers and Bible storybooks? I wasn’t convinced. There was a majesty to His words that was not accounted for. What was His bearing? His tone of voice? How did He captivate multitudes? How was He at His most intimate moments, as in the Garden of Gethsemane? When He delivered the Sermon on the Mount, was He in another world, or did heaven come to Him? Did His moods change dramatically, was He serene for the most part, how was He when seized by the Holy Spirit? Much is made of His anger when casting the money-changers out of the Temple – how did that actually happen? Were His words about the Pharisees as cutting and ironic as I imagine? We know that he grieved; surely he joked and laughed as well?

Oddly enough, the Bible itself is little help in this regard, for not only does it not provide any details that might serve as clues, but the four Evangelists themselves had differing portraits of Jesus. Even more oddly, the model that came as close to satisfying this thirst was Swami Dayananda Saraswati, a saffron-robed teacher of Vedanta with whom I studied for fifteen years. He spoke with calm authority, and was saintly and dignified without being the least bit pious, since ebullient hilarity was bubbling and gurgling just under the surface at all times.

At any rate, Bahá’ís are prevented from portraying the Manifestations of God as characters in a drama for this selfsame reason, that it would be impossible for us to do justice to the majesty of Their being, as well as for preventing a host of other abuses, such as having Bahá’u’lláh’s face in an ashtray, or a plastic Lucky Buddha smiling inanely atop the television showing the Ultimate Fighting Challenge.

Case in point: this past Good Friday I was in a village in Honduras where they spray-painted the Stations of the Cross on “carpets” (actually sand poured on the street), and paraded effigies of Jesus, Mary, and other figures on funeral biers during all hours of the day and night, followed by a brass band playing the most pitifully morose music you could ever imagine. Doesn’t the face of Christ in the photo above look like Che Guevara? And the priest and his retinue would walk over the face of Jesus!! Somehow that’s what upset me – the rest I could pass off as village tradition, which is the only explanation I could get anyway.

I was privileged to see one of the two existing photos of Bahá’u’lláh on a recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and it pierced my very soul. The other is not in the hands of the Bahá’ís, found its way onto the Internet, and was sent to me by a friend for verification. I glanced at it for a mere five seconds (Oh, my God) and filed it, and shall perhaps look at it someday again at a propitious moment. But I certainly won’t be putting it on my welcome mat.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Which Way to the Qiblih?

A concept that may be foreign to most Christians, Hindus, and Buddhists, but is of great importance to Muslims and Jews, is the direction to face while reciting specific prayers. The Jews have always turned toward Jerusalem, and one may argue that their problems with the Muslims began when the Prophet Muhammad directed them to turn and face Mecca instead, and they refused.

The Bahá’ís continue this practice of reciting daily “obligatory” prayers while facing the “Point of Adoration,” (Qiblih in Arabic), turning towards the resting-place of Bahá’u’lláh, at Bahji, near the city of Akko (Akká, Acre), across the bay from Haifa on the eastern Mediterranean coast.

But if one is in Ougadougou, Medicine Hat, or Siguatepeque (and there are Bahá’ís there as well as in virtually any other spot on the globe), how does one answer, “Which way to the Qiblih?” In fact, far too many make the mistake of consulting a flat map; we should all know better, since we know that it is a distortion. New Yorkers who do this, for instance, will conclude that it is just a wee bit south of east, whereas they should be facing NORTHeast.

The simplest way to find the shortest and most direct route over the surface of the earth (rather than through it) is to take a piece of string and a globe, press down one end of the string at Akko, make the other end point at wherever you are, and pull the string taut. Counterintuitive as it may seem, the string has traced the path to the Qiblih. (This will also answer why, if you’re flying to Rome from New York, you’ll stop in or pass by London on the way.) If you happen to be in Alaska, your route will take you over the North Pole. Try it!

A more precise way is to go to a website such as http://www.qiblih.com/, where you can type in your longitude and latitude, press the enter button and presto! your direction will be displayed. Of course you’ll need to know which way is north, south, east, and west, which can easily observe by watching a sunrise.

Saturday, January 31, 2009







All Bahá’ís know that 41 weekend Regional Conferences around the world are in full swing, and large numbers have attended them so far. I attended the one in Managua, Nicaragua, on Jan. 17-18. I expected the topography of neighbouring Nicaragua to be indistinguishable from Honduras’, but the volcanic mountains provided one astonishing vista after another, a gorgeous distraction from the dangers of driving on these roads

In spite of being stopped at the border for five hours
In spite of having to stay three nights in a hotel where a disco just on the other side of the wall was in full swing until 4 a.m.
In spite of examples of behaviour unbecoming to Bahá’ís
In spite of the bus breaking down twice on the way back

It was a magnificent enterprise, bringing together Bahá’ís from the region, many of whom were unaware of the face of the Faith outside their own communities, for a twofold purpose: to celebrate the accomplishments halfway through this Five-Year Plan (Bahá’ís have not only a static belief but a dynamic one, in which the Faith is ever-evolving) and to consult about achieving the goals mandated by the Universal house of Justice.

Being new to the region (since August 2008), I expected to meet no one I knew there, but in fact I met several, mostly friendships that had been struck up while I was on tour with the Voices of Bahá in the Caribbean in 2005, for example, Tommy Kavelin, tenor and longtime pioneer to Puerto Rico, brother of Linda Kavelin Popov of Virtues Project fame; Eve Fernandes, who sang with the Toronto World Unity Choir for a season; and the Jamaican lady who is vice-president of the tourist bureau and who organized the Voices of Bahá’s sojourn in Jamaica, a royal tour in more ways than one.

The Bahá’í Faith is one of not only belief, but service and action, and 100% of those assembled were actively involved in some aspect of teaching the Faith and serving humanity. Before the final speeches, all watched a power point presentation on the pledges and goals gathered for increased activity before April 2011, the end of this Five-Year Plan, which would represent a stupendous achievement even if say 70% of it was fulfilled.

For me, the highlight of the many highlights was the presence of two of the Counsellors from the International Teaching Centre, Juan Franciso Mora and Rachel Ndewa. The former is a brilliant young man of only 31 years whose speeches were not only inspiring but crystalline in the clarity with which he presented our responsibilities during the Five-year Plan. His partner was charming and inspiring in a different way, telling stories and showing her own personal struggles to understand and be obedient to the Universal House of Justice.

As everywhere in the Third World, a startlingly high percentage of the population is young people, and that fact was reflected all around. The last time there was a big conference in the region, it was attended mostly by “pioneers” – those Bahá’ís who for the sake of spreading the Faith establish themselves in locations where believers are few or none – but this time there was an overwhelming majority of local and indigenous people, the Garifonas of the Caribbean coast of Honduras being a prominent example, for their infectious music and dance. Indeed, my favourite quote of the Conference was given by an indigenous woman named Maxima, who said to all assembled (and I translate), “We live up in the mountains. There are no roads, no electricity, no telephones, no means of communication. You can’t get there from here.” (Pause) “And oh, yes, please come visit us.”
Ha ha, but somehow the Word of Bahá’u’lláh has managed to penetrate even there.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

The 3 Rs -- An Upward Spiral

Much of the world is celebrating New Year’s Day, 2009. It leads me to ruminate about this rather arbitrary designation (for Bahá’ís the New Year falls on the vernal equinox). The new year is somehow a break from the old, a chance to begin anew with a clean slate. Studies in comparative religion have found that many ancient societies believed explicitly that at this time the gods destroyed the world and created it anew. To point out to them from a sophisticated 21st century perspective that the world of Januray 1st looks remarkably like December 31st past would bring, at best, puzzlement. New Year’s resolutions seem to me to be a vestige of those ancient days, for in affirming them we lock into the belief that I can recreate my life, as the past does not have to dictate the future.

So, the cycle of life, resurrection, return and reincarnation. When I hear Christians talking about resurrection, they chiefly mean Christ’s rising after three days. Jews and Muslims, on the other hand, focus on the spectre of the dead rising from the graves, a notion which in its bizarre literal form always engendered horror-film zombies in my imagination. Many a time I have heard questions about resurrection at Bahá’í meetings, and over and above doctrinal interest, my ear always hears the subtext: “But what about me – what will happen to me?” I understand it as much the same question as with reincarnation, wondering what’s going to happen to me after I die.

The pre-eminent Bahá’í scholar Mírzá Abú’l Fadl wrote in 1886, “. . . it is clear to the possessors of intellect that the original intent of the prophets and messengers when they mentioned Return and Resurrection was to deliver to God’s servants the glad-tidings of a future Advent – when all that had transpired would be played out once more, retracing each footstep. In this way, the people would be deterred from believing that the Sun of Reality would never again rise, or that the spring of divine, mystical knowledge would never return. The prepared souls would be awaiting the appearance of the Manifestations of God and watching for the appearance of a primal reality. Then when the spiritual breeze wafted and the lordly, radiant luminary arose, exalted souls would be raised from the tombs of their bodies, a wondrous life would be bestowed on the world through a new spirit, and the earth would be adorned with the flowers of knowledge and science. Thus might the fruits hidden in the trees of existence be brought into the realm of appearance, just as they were at the time of the last Advent, and all that is concealed in the recesses of souls be made apparent and manifest. This is the meaning of Return. Otherwise, in regard to relative characteristics, spirits never return to this world once they have been separated from it. The birds of the soul, once they have ascended to the Most High, never again descend to the nethermost depths.” (Letters and Essays, 1886-1913)

The Far Easterns have had for millennia a cyclical view of life, where souls not only return to earth, but in which history repeats itself, exactly down to the last detail, over and over again for eternity. In the minds of the people of the West, time has taken a very different dimension, moving inexorably forward in a measured and linear fashion toward a future most fear will be cut short abruptly at some point. The Revelation of Bahá’u’lláh synthesizes all views in an astonishingly seamless manner (which is not to say that it is a synthesis; rather they are not only rolled into one, but refashioned and reinterpreted to show that they really have been aspects of one reality all along), and in this regard we have been given a new model that is both cyclical and progressive, an upward spiral. So life in all its aspects, from the individual struggle and experience, to the Revelation of God is seen as both repeating an endless pattern while at the same time striving upward. “All men have been created to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization.” (Gleanings from the Writings of Bahá’u’lláh, pg. 214)

As a Bahá’í I have been given a vision of the ultimately destiny of the individual soul, which is an eternally dynamic and progressive one, but human civilization’s destiny is not fully revealed, and we’ll either find out when we get there, or as a mercy a future Manifestation of God will tell us more completely. Either way, I won’t be reincarnated as a dog, princess, or movie star, nor will I be playing harps and drinking ambrosia in a static eternity (or be barbecuing in hell with the devil turning the spit) when the ultimate end of humanity is known, if it ever will be. In the meantime my task has been set before me: “It is incumbent upon every man of insight and understanding to strive to translate that which hath been written into reality and action.” (Tablets of Bahá’u’lláh, pg. 166)