Whenever the
time for Bahá’í elections comes around, the preparations always include the
study of an admonition from the Guardian regarding some of the qualities one
must look for in those for whom one
intends to cast a vote. Among these qualities,
one has intrigued me above all others: a
well-trained mind. Most of the others
seem more straightforward than this one – what exactly is a “well-trained
mind”? I have put this query to many a
Bahá’í whom I respect, and the answers have varied from annoyance that I should
have a question about something so obvious to “It is one that is well-grounded
in the Writings of Bahá’u’lláh.” The
second one brought cheers from those assembled, for it sounds like a fine
answer indeed, which I acknowledge. And
yet was there not in that cheer a small grain of relief that the question would
not have to be explored any further? In
fact, I have never received an answer that has satisfied me fully, and such
things act as fishhooks, tugging irritatingly at me when I try to ignore them.
So here’s what I’ve come up with so
far. The fact that the Guardian mentions
it suggests to me that it is an outstanding quality not possessed by all, nor
perhaps even by many. And also that it’s
not something that comes automatically with age or experience, but that it is
acquired through systematic rigour, ergo “trained.” So what are minds like that do not fulfill
this condition? Frankly, our minds are
messy places, gurgling miasmas of desires and disappointments, grudges and hormones,
silly superstitions guilty pleasures, and memories both deep and fleeting,
constantly being transmogrified by shafts of insight and reconsideration from
all directions, beset by hobgoblins like street urchins appearing from who knows where and insisting that their
voices be heard. Difficult to have a
clear thought amongst all that clamour, never mind trying to express one.
Someone who serves on an elected
institution of the Faith must be able to consult with others, listen to them
[HUGE], respond to them, stick to the matter at hand, be objective and dispassionate,
keeping the principles and guidance of the Faith and its well-being in the
forefront of one’s mind, shoving aside our petty obsessions (who, me?) and our
personal agendas. Some of us just like
the sound of our own voices, and this must be tempered at times.
We are still at the stage of human
development that the vast majority of us are inclined to complaining, arguing,
criticizing, and prejudging (read:
prejudice), and these have no place on assemblies. Most people repeat
the same things over and over (have you noticed?) and this is an undesirable
trait which hampers consultation. We
also have personal relationships with other members of these institutions,
which should have no bearing with our
interactions with them at meetings (good luck with that). Many a joke has been made about husband and
wife serving on the same assembly.
There are several difficult
disciplines for assembly members to which others are not subjected. One has to wholeheartedly embrace decisions
made by the body which one has not wholeheartedly endorsed. One must not secondguess or undermine the
assembly’s authority outside its meetings (whereas inside it one may argue as
vociferously as one wishes within the bounds of courtesy and respect). Discussing confidential assembly matters
outside the meeting, even with one’s closest family members, is a
no-no-no-no.
So the hallmarks of a well-trained
mind are intelligence and discipline, fuelled by a love for and knowledge of
the Faith, its writings and guidance.
Experience and education are not absolute requirements (as some devoted
and wise souls without a dollar or certificate sometimes prove), but are valued
whips and handmaidens along the way. A
well-trained mind is a rare and precious talisman indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment