"God, No!"

  

            I was engaged in a conversation the other day with the Hindu wife of a new Bahá’í friend over coffee, and she wanted proof that Bahá’u’lláh’s prayers were Divinely revealed, not jut the products of an artistic imagination. (It should be noted that Hindus make a distinction between shruti (“that which is heard”) and smriti (‘that which is written”), the former having the greater spiritual authority. She complained that Bahá’ís she had conversed with over Zoom had failed to answer this question and when pressed, simply ended the conversation. I love these kinds of challenges and set to it. I mentioned, among other things, that Muhammad only considered what He recited while in the throes of Divine possession as part of the Qur’án, while the Báb told his followers to consider everything He said as coming from God. Bahá’u’lláh loved poetry, His Revelation being highly poetic, and He wrote poetry Himself, the most spectacular example being “The Clouds of the Realms Above,” written in a classical Persian form before He declared His mission to humanity. That was all in the way of background. As to the main question, Bahá’í Scripture is authenticated by having the originals in the handwriting of the Author or His secretaries, but as to the question at hand, Bahá’ís believe that the prayers are revealed because they come from the Central Figures and we are assured that they are revealed. So an element of faith is indispensable, and as far as I know, there is no firmer proof. That was my best answer, and of course not proof enough for my listener, and I just added that like big questions such as the existence or non-existence of God, this cannot be proven or disproven by rational argument. If I read her reaction right, she was pleased that at least I had tried, though it left her unconvinced.

                I have noticed over the years that at Bahá’í talks, when confronted with direct questions, Bahá’í speakers tend to give indirect answers with a lot of contextualization, and often with good reason. But the questioner often remains mired in that sticking point. My now third ex-wife (you read right, I am ashamed to say) had once declared herself a Bahá’í, but backpedalled and became Catholic with a vengeance. Her reason for rejection of the Faith was her claim that the Bible retains its validity and Bahá’u’lláh’s name appears nowhere in the text. Our many discussions of the Bible have not moved her an inch from this conviction, but to her credit, she defends and promulgates the principles of the Bahá’í Faith to a surprising degree in many a conversation with those who make comments about it in ignorance.

                A more public example is in a book by the comedian and magician Penn Jillette (spelling correct). His book God, No! is marketed as a book of humour (and it is at times very funny) but in fact is his Atheist Manifesto and he levels his weightiest arguments against religion and faith in scathing, crude, and vulgar language, which is at the same time both clever and sincere. His ace in the hole, what he believes is his irrefutable argument is his question: would you kill your child if asked to do so by God? – and if you cannot answer with an immediate and wholehearted yes! then you are already an atheist. He doesn’t seem to realize the speciousness of this ridiculous argument but is deaf to all entreaties without the answer he’s looking for. Respect to him both for his sincerity, articulateness, and his intelligence, but like the examples mentioned above, it seems to me he’s stuck on a single point that has closed all doors to further investigation. I won’t say I’ll pray for him, for that is the kind of sanctimony non-believers abhor, but I’ll continue to recite what I believe are revealed prayers which contain pleas to God to open the hearts of everyone to His Revelation, and I shall continue to revel in answering the most difficult questions the best way I know how.

 Confession #4:  Flirting

                I cringe whenever I hear someone say that they joined the Bahá’í Faith because they found that it aligned with what they already believed. For the most part, the teachings of the Faith are not only socially progressive but have spearheaded enlightened thought in major ways that it doesn’t get credit for. When Bahá’u’lláh enunciated that everyone should be educated, there should be an international language by which the whole world can communicate, that men and women are equal in the sight of God, that the extremes of wealth and poverty must be eliminated, among others, these ideas were revolutionary and scandalous, but within a century most thinking people regarded them as obvious to the dignity of the human race. But there are some other areas in which the Faith seems conservative and at odds with current thought, and those who feel heady at its forward-looking views almost inevitably run into some fine print they hadn’t noticed before that challenge them, and something inside them rebels, that something being that they hold up their own thoughts as the highest standard, not the revealed Word of God. And it doesn’t even have to be something major. It could be over the rejection of the doctrine of reincarnation, the prohibition against alcohol and drugs, the struggle against homosexuality, the requirement of parental consent for marriage, or the refusal of the Faith to outlaw smoking or eating meat. Once we have scratched the surface, we find that people, especially Westerners, who have been throwing off the shackles of religion since the Renaissance, don’t want to be told what to do, and we find that the laws of the Faith can be vewy vewy stern indeed.

                I’ve run into a few obstacles myself, and they are as unexpectedly violent as walking into a glass door. None of the above have given me any grief, but when Shoghi Effendi told us not to flirt, I wailed like a child who had his favourite toy taken away. The Faith continues to transform the way the genders relate to each other in a healthy and positive way, but a little voice inside me doesn’t want to let go of what I protest is cheerful and harmless banter. I’m not arguing against the teachings, it’s just that I learned from my father that women like good-natured teasing and like men in return for doing it. Like many poisons, is there an acceptable limit? I can certainly tell when the line has been blatantly crossed, as when in offices nobody can say anything without including sexual innuendo and everyone accepts this status quo, whether they like it or not, as they are considered poor sports if they do not, even if the company sets out rules against harassment and trains employees against it. Just like the policy of “no means no”, most people don’t believe it.

                I remember watching a movie many years ago in which a crusty old man said he didn’t care for religion because it was “agin everythin’ I’m fer”, meaning partying in its many forms. People are often amazed at what a good time Bahá’ís can have without alcohol, throwing punches, or grabbing body parts, but can I have just one day a year when I can say “I have fond memories of girls named Sharon” or “Don’t those shoes make you want to dance?”?