19 at the House

Nineteen at the House

Results of an interview with former pilgrim to the House of the Bab, Helen Kelly

By John Taylor; 2007 October 20, 05 Ilm, 164 BE

In 1970 I was among the first (and for all I know maybe the last) group to go on pilgrimage to the Baha'i holy places in Iran. We had been chosen by the NSA of Persia to have the unique bounty of going on an extended pilgrimage to Tehran and two other cities following our pilgrimage to Haifa. This extension to our pilgrimage lasted five days, after our normal nine days in Haifa and Akka. We were all Canadians in our group, and mostly we were entire families. Among us were almost all of the Reiner family, the Shermans, the Dainties, the Trantors and the Aiduns. The pilgrims made up a total of 22 souls, including the children.

The first holy place we visited was the house of Baha'u'llah in Teheran. This was sad because it had been vandalized, everything had been torn off the walls. No photos were allowed, of course, at the holy places, but I do have some slides from this trip. The women were all told how to wear the full-body-covering veils known as chadors, so as to remain inconspicuous. Our headquarters was a hotel room in Tehran.

After Teheran, we went to Isfahan, and then back to Teheran. In Isfahan we visited the resting place of the American doctor sent to Persia by Abdu'l-Baha, Keith Ransom-Kehler. There at the grave site we met and said prayers with Baha'is from the twin cities of Isfahan and Julfa. There were not many, so they were probably just the members of their two spiritual assemblies. We had all arrived separately so as not to attract attention, but suddenly we were told to leave quickly. A menacing crowd had gathered around and were ready to throw stones at us.

Again, for obvious reasons we did not get a spiritual charge from this city. This was where the twin martyrs were killed, and it felt like butcher shop in a way. Not a good feeling. Nonetheless we were impressed in other ways with the city of Isfahan, which is a center of commercial and manufacturing activity. The rugs are woven there by tiny girls, child labor; the other work was done by men, but the tiny fingered girls actually wove the rugs. We saw a salty pool where the women washed their clothes; they constantly walked to and fro carrying baskets on their heads. I recall that when we went to the Bazaar, Bruce Reiner bought a big samovar.

On the last day we flew to our last place of pilgrimage, Shiraz. This was an astonishing experience that I shall never forget. I remember that only 19 of our number could make it on the flight to Shiraz. This was due to two cases of illness and one of a death in the family. Diana Dainty and one of the children were sick and could not attend. We all noted with wonder that our number had been reduced to the number of unity, 19.

In view of what almost happened in Isfahan, we had to exercise extreme caution. Not all of us went to the House of the Bab at once. There was one morning group and, I think, one in the evening. There were five women who went together very early in the morning. The House of the Bab is in a rundown area of Shiraz. The chador-clad women in the street were like fishwives, constantly fighting with one another. We walked through these barren, depressing surrounds in small, separate groups, trying to look like we were not together. In order to allay suspicions we kept our heads down, never looking up at people or making eye contact.

 Entering the garden surrounding the House of the Bab was like stepping into another world. There was a beautiful flower garden, with birds and butterflies flying about. A member of the Afnan family, the custodian, came smiling, greeted us and made us feel welcome. He brought us each a fruit drink and talked about the Bab. He gave each of us a leaf from the Bab's lemon tree to keep; I still have mine in my prayer book. I felt a tremendous power. I do not know what happened to me, but as he was talking I must have dropped into a trance. The force of that location was so strong! It was as if it had hit me and knocked me out. My state must have lasted only a minute or so but suddenly I was alone and I could hear the footsteps of the others walking off into the House. I hurried after them.

 This was the original house where the Bab was born and raised. I felt it throbbing with power, even in the courtyard felt the vibrations. It was everywhere, even coming out of the walls. As you may know, there are very narrow steps leading up to the apartment of the Bab, which is on the second floor. When you get to top, there is a very narrow turn, and suddenly you are in the room where it all started, where the Bab declared to Mullah Hussein.

 Everyone was there, sitting on their knees on the rug. The famous candelabra marking the spot where the declaration to Mullah Hussein took place -- I am sure you have seen it in pictures -- well, right next to it was the only place left for me to sit. Looking around, I noticed that lovely wall, made of ceramic, multi-colored, elaborate. They were already saying prayers. I felt very moved, and though I was not crying, tears were welling out of my eyes and down my face. I began saying the prayer, "O God, my God, my beloved, my heart's desire," over and over. I could not stop, I must have repeated it maybe 19 times. Then finally I stopped, then we went down the steps and left.

 We went to the airport and flew right back to Tihran to our hotel.

 The throbbing power that I felt at the house was so impressive that it made me wonder afterwards. I realized that this is where this entire cycle all started, where the Bab was born, raised, and spent the early years of His marriage. Here is the dawning point of the Dawn-breakers, the point of the Point of the Bayan. Then I found a passage from the Writings telling how the Bab would say with tears in his eyes over and over that same prayer that had jumped to my lips in those holy environs, "O God, my God, my Beloved, my heart's desire!"

 Note: Helen was probably thinking of the passage in the Dawn-breakers where the Bab, Himself on pilgrimage to the Shiih shrines near Baghdad, was heard to repeat that prayer:

 "The words 'O God, my God, my Beloved, my heart's Desire' were uttered with a frequency and ardour that those of the visiting pilgrims who were near enough to hear Him instinctively interrupted the course of their devotions, and marvelled at the evidences of piety and veneration which that youthful countenance evinced. Like Him they were moved to tears, and from Him they learned the lesson of true adoration. Having completed His prayers, that Youth, without crossing the threshold of the shrine and without attempting to address any words to those around Him, would quietly return to His home." (Shoghi Effendi, Dawn-Breakers, p. 30)

 Some accounts tell of the Bab saying this prayer on the rooftop of a Mosque; even passers by with heavy burdens on heads and shoulders would stop, astonished, to hear his ardent praying. Though I am no expert at Arabic, I got the impression researching this that this prayer seems to have eschatological echoes, since "Muhammad" is derived from a root meaning praised or beloved. Hence the following anecdote about a seminar of Siyyid Kazim, foreshadowing the Bab's mission while He was visiting the same holy place as above.

 "This added still further to my perplexity. I had already heard my teacher observe that so great is the perversity of this generation, that were he to point with his finger to the promised One and say: 'He indeed is the Beloved, the Desire of your hearts and mine,' they would still fail to recognise and acknowledge Him. I saw the Siyyid actually point out with his finger the ray of light that had fallen on that lap, and yet none among those who were present seemed to apprehend its meaning." (H.M. Balyuzi, The Bab - The Herald of the Day of Days, p. 43)

 The Bab, just after His son Ahmad died stillborn, prescribed a prayer with echoes of this prayer written into it.

 "(Ahmad) died in the year 1259 A.D., the year preceding the declaration of the Faith by the Bab. The Father did not lament his loss. He consecrated his death by words such as these: `O God, my God! Would that a thousand Ishmaels were given Me, this Abraham of Thine, that I might have offered them, each and all, as a loving sacrifice unto Thee. O my Beloved, my heart's Desire! The sacrifice of this Ahmad whom Thy servant Ali-Muhammad hath offered up on the altar of Thy love can never suffice to quench the flame of longing in His heart.'" (Shoghi Effendi, The Dawn-Breakers, p. 76)

The House of the Bab was destroyed by the blathering fanatic eight years after Helen’s pilgrimage. For a filmstrip of the pilgrimage to the House of the Bab made around then, go to: <http://www.enochsvision.com/ptthotb/frame01.html>