Confession #2: Allah’u-‘Abhá

            For fifteen years I was a disciple of Swami Dayananda Saraswati, and studied Vedanta for some years before that.  In early morning and late-night meditations I had used the incantation “Om,” which transported me immediately into the realm of communion with the Infinite Divine.  It automatically shut out the busy world and enfolded me in the Sublime Serenity.  Upon accepting the Bahá’í Faith, “Om” (which is only a sound symbol after all, however dripping with spiritual purport) was naturally to be replaced by “Alláh’u-Abhá,” an Arabic phrase roughly meaning “God, the All-Glorious,” but more importantly the Name of God, the Most Great Name, hidden from Jewish, Christian, and Muslim devotees, as well as all other previous seekers of His hidden name.  

            Naturally, I say, but it didn’t take.  Seventeen years later, after at least ninety-five fervent daily repetitions, it doesn’t reverberate in my inner chambers with anything like devotion or conviction, to no small sense of frustration and even a tincture of guilt.  This phenomenon has engendered its own soul-searching:  is there a cause for this recalcitrance that must needs be expunged or exorcised, or is it merely a papadum to be assigned no importance whatever in the face of what matters?  Is it rooted in any prejudice against or resistance to Arabic culture or language?  Do I cling to any residual notion of the superiority of the Hindu rishis or avatars?  I am inclined to dismiss it, except that I want to love it as much and more as I did, and do, Om.

            It is used as a greeting by Bahá’ís, about which I can’t complain as it was mandated thus by a Manifestation of God, even though my personal preference would have been to reserve it to accompany more exalted utterance.   But where I do inwardly cringe is when it is used casually, as a common coin, from off-handedly tossing it about to singing it to trivial melodies to the accompaniment of indifferent strumming and whacking, especially amid a general babble. “Approach Me not with lifeless hearts,” Bahá’u’lláh has admonished us.

            For some reason, another form of The Most Great Name, “Yá Bahá’u’l-Abhá,” (O Thou the Glory of the All-Glorious) which doesn’t look or sound categorically different from “Alláh’u-Abhá,” thrills my soul like nineteen times nineteen “Hallelujas” cannot.  Go figure.  Perhaps in it lies my potential salvation.