On the Ninth Day of Ridván, My True Love . . .

The Festival of Ridván, the “King of Festivals” is celebrated by the Bahá’ís from April 21 to May 2. It was during those twelve days in 1863 that Bahá’u’lláh received visitors in the Najibiyyih Garden outside Baghdad, and made the stupendous announcement to at least four of His closest followers that He was in fact the Promised One prophesied and awaited by all the major religious traditions and scriptures.

Furthermore, three of these days have been designated as Holy Days. The first and last are understood easily enough, but what about the ninth? We read so often that His family visited Him on the Ninth Day that we can get the idea that it is because of their arrival that that particular day is celebrated. Except for Naw-Rúz (New Year, March 21), the Bahá’í Holy Days are all associated with the Twin Manifestations, the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh. We do not know who these family members were or how many (they did not include ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, who was there from the First Day); for all we know they may have been future Covenant-breakers, and it would be inconceivable to have a Holy Day associated with covenant-breaking. And it was likely that their arrival would have been earlier had it not been for high rushing waters of the Tigris River (The Najibiyyih Garden was on an island) imperiling any crossing.

We have a direct if rather prosaic explanation from the writings themselves:
“. . . the reason we commemorate the 1st, 9th and 12th days of Ridván as Holidays (Holy Days) is because one is the first day, one is the last day, and the third one is the ninth day, which of course is associated with the number 9. All 12 days could not be holidays, therefore these three were chosen.”
Letter written on behalf of the Guardian, dated June 8, 1952, to an individual believer, in Lights of Guidance, pg. 230
(Compilations, NSA USA - Developing Distinctive Baha'i Communities)

Alas, I do not read either Arabic or Persian, but I have been told by more than one Persian believer that there exists an untranslated Tablet in which Bahá’u’lláh answers questions about the various Holy Days, and in which He purportedly explains that the Ninth Day of Ridván is associated with the Most Great Name (via the abjad system of numerology that was still in use in the nineteenth century). I shall be writing the Research Department about this matter, and may have an update to this post before long.

A note of caution regarding the above photograph of the Ridván Garden. This, and every other photo is of the one outside ‘Akká in the Holy Land, and was called that name by Bahá’u’lláh Himself. It is NOT the one associated with the “King of Festivals.” The Ridván Garden outside of Baghdad is at present a hospital parking lot. May the All-Powerful Lord restore it to the condition in which roses could be piled so high in Bahá’u’lláh’s tent that one could not see over them.

Unity in Diversity

The concept of Unity in Diversity has been described in the Bahá’í writings as the “flowers of one garden”; humanity has also been described as “the leaves of one branch,” “the waves of one ocean,” and with various other images, but perhaps the first one is the most potent, because of the fact that the flowers of one garden are not all the same -- their pleasing effect is largely because they are not the same, but present a harmonious whole. Surely a garden consisting exclusively of red roses would be impressive, but throw in a variety of colours, and the delight is increased tenfold.

But there is another phenomenon that brings the concept of unity in diversity home to me in a robust way: when one attends a concert, be the audience comprised of twenty or twenty thousand souls, every single person in that audience experiences the music in a personal way that is different from every other person. Forty years of performing and teaching music have taught me that this is absolutely true and not just some sentimental statement. How miraculous is this? How can the same piece of music have a different effect on everyone? The answer is not in the music itself, but in the receptacle, the filter of the human mind and heart. Everyone at that concert brings to bear upon their listening the wealth of their own heritage and experience, their tastes, their prejudices, their reactions, their sensitivities. Music is not heard with a single part of the brain but is actually synthesized in various locations of our mysterious grey matter; the intellectual, emotional, psychological, and every other aspect of the brain is engaged. Memory is a powerful factor, which not only helps us understand the language of music, determines our reaction to music heard before, and is even the basis of apprehending what is new to our ears. How often has a song, not heard for years or decades, instantly unlocked a flood of memories and emotions? Even more powerful, perhaps, is the spiritual realm which is invoked and in which we partake, recognizing the true voice of music reaching us from a world beyond.

Not convinced? Can any of us say that our experience of listening to the selfsame recording is ever exactly the same twice? Was any time exactly the same as the first time? Our mood, our environment, our level of concentration or distraction, our age, our company, biorhythm, a myriad other factors all affect the result. How often have we been disappointed when a favourite piece of music does not produce the same wonderful effect we remember and anticipate? All experience is unique and unrepeatable, even the repetition of drudgery, and we cannot press a button to get an exact replica of one, much though we may be led to believe this is possible.

Yet, yet . . . at a concert there IS a communal experience. We all experience it together, and there is a general consensus about the quality and effect of the performance and presentation. We feel the buildup of excitement together and are transported to bliss together. We feel the climax together and we respond as one. Some concerts even become legendary for creating a special moment in time that all who had attended agree upon. And it is that harmonious whole that is our Unity in Diversity. Imagine if there were no unity, that life and experience were not shared, how unutterable lonely the cosmos would be. And though we do, at times, feel alone, isolated, and misunderstood, our greatest desire at those moments is to return to that blessed unity that brings us peace and love. Uniquely and together.