Thursday, May 28, 2009

Thoughts on Ascension Eve

An unbeliever's testimony

By John Taylor; 2009 May 28, Azamat 12, 166 BE

The other night one of my computers broke down and I had a long, boring job of troubleshooting and glacial reboots ahead of me. So, as I worked I listened on one of the computers that still worked to a lecture put out by a California bookstore through Fora TV. This was a talk called "Losing My Religion," by journalist William Lobdell from the L.A. Times, a specialist in religion, hawking his latest book. He told the story of his somewhat reluctant but sincere conversion in a men's retreat. After much hemming and hawing, he finally came around to accepting Christ into his heart. This experience prompted him to start writing about religion for the local paper. He started off with nice stories about the super-churches in his area, then his journalism brought him into long contact with the seamier side of Christianity, especially child-abusing priests. Their terrible deeds disillusioned him and led to his eventual rejection of all religion.

 At one point, in explaining why he was coming around to not believing, I was amazed that he used almost the exact phrasing that Shoghi Effendi did when somebody asked why some believe in God and others do not. Paraphrasing, the journalist said something like, "I really feel that what I now believe comes from a quality in my soul." The Guardian had said that atheism or faith are qualities of the soul. And you can conclude from that that unbelief is not blameworthy, though, as Baha'u'llah points out, issues of trust do come up.

 He tells his story eloquently and in a heartfelt manner. He really feels closer to the truth now that he has ejected faith in God and become a non-believer. Among his former co-religionists, he says, there is a large "mushy" center who feel threatened by his de-conversion. Those on the liberal left and the conservative right do not feel that way, though, and often invite him to speak and share what he learned. To other unbelievers, some of whom he calls "arrogant anti-theists," he has given talks about this book and they admonished him for taking so long to come around to what they knew as children (I myself converted to atheism at seven, a sinking feeling that I still remember to this day). Unlike them, he is fair and knowledgeable enough about religion to acknowledge that it does a great deal of good in the world. He points out that if charitable faith-based giving were ever to suddenly stop, American society would be gutted. As a former atheist, I could not listen to his story unmoved, even though he had travelled in the opposite direction from me.

 At one point somebody in the audience stands up and asks him if he has investigated other religions, "such as, say, Baha'i." He avoids answering the question directly, saying only that if you do not believe in another life after this one, there is not much to seek in any belief system that does. I think even scripture agrees with him on that point, though, as the Qur'an points out, a clear vision even of worldly things depends upon clear vision of their meaning under the aspect of eternity,

 "Whosoever is blind in respect to (the things of) this life is also blind in respect to (the things of) the other life, and follows a misleading path." (Qur'an 17:74)

 As I write, it is the evening before the Ascension of Baha'u'llah. My thoughts turn to the meaning of Baha'u'llah's life and what it means for my life, for the world at large, and for the believer and the unbeliever. Mostly, my thoughts turn to what He called the "messenger of joy," death.

 This journalist spent much of his talk defending why he does not believe that there will be a life after this one, and how he has become reconciled to that bitter reality. He understands, at least, how important it is to have a position on this to understand religion. Death stands as an inherent deadline built into life on this plane, one that, like the irreversibility of time, even applies to the Manifestations of God.

 Death has to be a messenger of joy to believers because it forces us to eat at the table of God. If there were no such deadline, religion, and indeed the lives and Teaching of any of the the Manifestations of God, would not mean a whole heck of a lot. And, as our journalist points out, the religions based on their Teaching would hardly be worth investigating. As Baha'u'llah wrote,

 "For the life of the flesh is common to both men and animals, whereas the life of the spirit is possessed only by the pure in heart who have quaffed from the ocean of faith and partaken of the fruit of certitude. This life knoweth no death, and this existence is crowned by immortality. Even as it hath been said: "He who is a true believer liveth both in this world and in the world to come." If by "life" be meant this earthly life, it is evident that death must needs overtake it." (Baha'u'llah, The Kitab-i-Iqan, pp. 120-121)

 At the beginning of Baha'u'llah's Ministry He was exiled without a shred of evidence by a malicious official, Ali Pasha, who among other unjust actions forced them to board a ship under such harsh conditions that some of the babies and children in His party died. This cruel deed prompted Him to write a letter of protest, asking the Pasha not to help Him but to save the children. It is now known as the Tablet to the Chiefs, or Lawh-i-Ra'is.

 In this letter, Baha'u'llah cuts to the heart of the matter, both for Him and for the unbeliever. He tells a story from his childhood about a miniature puppet play that He witnessed at a wedding, an event that underlined to Him how temporary and ephemeral life is. There is a double or triple irony here, since that play was a satire of the same court that Ali Pasha lived in, only a century earlier in the time of Sultan Salim. The young Baha'u'llah, known as Husain Ali at the time, was no stranger to court and was thought to be destined to the same role as his father had, and Ali Pasha had, that of Prime Minister to the king. However seeing this play evidently changed Baha'u'llah's mind, and He turned to a higher Court, as it were. Such, needless to say, was not the case with this Pasha. His crush with this world and the pomp of that court Baha'u'llah -- in some of the strongest language you can imagine -- compares to a drunk who commits bestiality in his slumber with a dog. He will wake one day and feel the shame of what he did. However, even those who do not believe and remain unrepentant, though they may not be expected to perform religious devotions, are not entirely absolved of responsibility. They still must be just and fair. Referring to the folding up of the puppet play into a small box, Baha'u'llah says,

 "It behoveth everyone to traverse this brief span of life with sincerity and fairness. Should one fail to attain unto the recognition of Him Who is the Eternal Truth, let him at least comport himself with reason and justice. Erelong these outward trappings, these heaped-up treasures, these earthly vanities, these amassed battalions, this gorgeous finery, these proud and overweening souls -- all shall pass into the confines of the grave, as though into that box. In the eyes of those possessed of insight, all this conflict, dissention and vainglory hath been, and will ever be, like unto the sport of children. Take thou good heed, and be not of those who see and yet deny." (quoted in, David Ruhe, Robe of Light, The Persian Years of the Supreme Prophet, Baha'u'llah, 1817-1853, pp. 29-30)

 So tonight Baha'u'llah's body, like all flesh, was folded into a box and set aside. Only now it is our Qiblih. A glory that had been concealed only now is starting to unfold its full glory in a panoply that will make the Earth His spiritual court. And why? Certainly for many spiritual reasons beyond our ken, but from our point of view because in the unity of His followers, He will have established the happiness of all humans, everywhere. As Abdu'l-Baha said,

 "O ye beloved of God! Know ye, verily, that the happiness of mankind lieth in the unity and the harmony of the human race, and that spiritual and material developments are conditioned upon love and amity among all men." (Selections, 285)


John Taylor

email: badijet@gmail.com
blog: http://badiblog.blogspot.com/

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful reflection!