Decredentialization

Decredentializing the Cause of God; A Digression on the ABS and Curtis Kelsey

By John Taylor; 2007 July 07

 

Here is an interesting way to teach the victims of that bane of my life, the J-W cult, from the biography of my hero of late, Curtis Kelsey,

“One afternoon two Jehovah's Witnesses called on Curtis.
He greeted them warmly and invited them inside, making them feel at ease. After praising them for their courage in breaking away from orthodoxy and expressing admiration for their devotion to their Faith, the two men relaxed. Then Curtis listened to what they had to say, much of it being read from the Bible they were holding. About ten minutes elapsed when Curtis said gently, 'Do you recall what is stated in the Book of Daniel? "Go thy way, Daniel, for the words are closed up and sealed till the time of the end.'"
'Where is that?' said one of the men, handing his Bible to Curtis. Curtis turned several pages and said, 'Here ... in Daniel ... twelfth chapter, ninth verse.'
After reading the passage, one of them said, 'What is the significance of this?'
'To me,' Curtis responded, 'that passage means that the Bible, the Gospel is sealed until the time of the end, and even Jesus Christ didn't know when the time of the end would take place. Only the Father knew.'
The two men looked at Curtis strangely, wondering what he was trying to tell them. 'This may seem harsh,' Curtis said, 'but as a good Christian you shouldn't be using the Bible to teach your Faith. It is sealed until the time of the end.'
Then Curtis proceeded to tell them the story of Baha'u'llah, that it was He who came 'in the Glory of the Father' to unseal the Words in the Bible; and that Baha'u'llah was living during the time the first Jehovah's Witnesses were expecting the Return of Christ. In a gentle and patient manner Curtis had turned the teachers into enthralled students.” (He Loved and Served, The Story of Curtis Kelsey, by Nathan Rutstein, George Ronald, Oxford, pp. 158-159)

I have also learned a lot from Curtis Kelsey's recorded talk, “The Story of Abdu’l-Baha,” which is on the Baha'i A/V Web Site. I have listened to it over again several times, each time with increasing profit. Here is the voice of someone who met, worked with and listened to the Master. One thing he said strikes me now, a pilgrim's note of the Guardian, who said something to the effect that you cannot take the mystery out of the Cause of God. If you do that, you take God out. The tendency of Americans (and by that I presume he means those involved in administering the Cause, since he called America the "cradle of the Administrative Order") is to want to Americanize the Baha'i Faith by wanting to remove all Its mystery. Do that and you kill the Cause, all that remains is a dead thing unworthy of the name "Faith."

Since the time of the Guardian I think we have caught an even worse disease, or perhaps the same one in more advanced stages. Credentialism has gripped us; we want to academicize the Baha'i Faith. Those who enter the higher levels of the administration are if anything overqualified. They tend to have spent too much time in the same institutions of higher learning that trained the present non-religious leaders of Americanization. I mean the very qualified people who brought us the Guantanamo Bay detention camp scam, among others. I am not saying that there is borderline criminality here as among their classmates, just a tendency to remove the mystery, to use the Administration in ways it is not meant for. What the great essayist said centuries ago is just as true today.

"I prefer the company of peasants because they have not been educated sufficiently to reason incorrectly." (Michel de Montaigne)

The problem is witch's brew of fanaticism and opinion-worship that breeds the contagion of the cult. This is the very definition of a cult: any group that has narrowed its sources of information to the point that its goals reflect one set of values over the spectrum of alternatives, over the recognition that there is more than meets the eye. In other words, no mystery, no humility. A cult neither knows nor cares about what is going on outside. Today's educational system has become cultish to the extreme. If you think academe is not a cult, why do you never see discussion in the media or in the thousands of fora that are held every year of anything to do with world government, or a world language? Why so little concern about unification, even as the climate draws its noose to literally choke us all?

 I have been going over dozens of papers published over the past few decades in the ABS's "Journal of Baha'i Studies" and in almost every case there is nothing of discernible value in there. You can see that the author has been trained to write narrowly, for a tiny audience of specialists. That, and the Writings, is all they know. Most papers reflect the cultishness of their teachers; they aim at nothing beyond ironing out the Baha'i Faith's mystery. They translate the simple, clear, eloquent language of the Writings into the jargon of their field, and give birth to a stillborn mind child.

 Yet Baha'u'llah's main teaching is "unity in diversity." A Baha'i writer needs to aim at a varied audience, to take as source a varied data stream, if only to follow this divine dictum of unity in diversity. The ABS is out of touch with this, which is why the successful Ruhi program seemed to come so far out of left field. In the late 1980's I wrote the ABS, begging them to cooperate more, to coordinate their specialized research skills to go after what works in teaching the Faith, and take everything from there. The response was verbally polite but left it dead in the water. Even now, I cannot understand why they do not barge down the doors of the Ruhi Institute in Columbia and insist on helping to improve, or at least proofread, this program.

 Okay, I see the negative feedback from my readers coming in already, so I will try to make this criticism as constructive as I can.

 First of all, we can work to remove credentialism -- not by criticizing administrators, that would be a grave spiritual error that more than anything would kill the mystery. I mean something as simple as keeping the qualifications suggested by the Guardian in mind when we think about whom to vote for, not necessarily the number of degrees behind the person's name. If you doubt that it is possible to have a "well trained mind" without graduating grade school, just listen to that recording of Curtis Kelsey's talk. It is one of the most brilliant Baha'i talks that I have ever heard. You may say, Kelsey cheated in effect by being taught directly by the Master. Not very many of the people on your local voting list have that distinction.

 But if you think that, you are wrong.

 The Master has been an even more effective teacher since He left His physical body. And recall how Kelsey learned his lessons, by sitting in on lectures by the Master in Persian and Arabic, languages he knew nothing of. Recall how in the middle the Master stopped and told Kelsey in English that it does not matter that you do not grasp the outer meaning, you are getting the inner meaning, which is not dependent upon words. Believe it. And believe that many outside the recognized channels of Academe there exist individuals and groups that are getting it, as far as successful deepening and teaching are concerned. At least, that is what the House think has happened with a certain group in Columbia. And, aside from divine infallibility, they are at the Cause's data central, the best position to judge what is working around the world and what is not. Why are the ABS not right down there with them, asking them to explain why this works, in what ways it differs from pyramid schemes, talking to and working with them?

 Taken all in all, I think that a faithful Baha'i whose training comes from the spirit, rather than from a credential factory, should have the same cachet with her fellow believers that a PhD has with the powers that be who pick who gets to walk in the halls of power outside the faith. That is the only way we will ever address another criticism of an "Americanized" Baha'i Faith that comes straight from Haifa itself, that the administration is failing to involve the whole community:

 "Although Spiritual Assemblies are good at specifying goals, they have not yet mastered the art of making use of the talents of individuals and rousing the mass of the friends to action in fulfillment of such goals. Removing this deficiency would be a mark of the maturation of these institutions. May your Assembly lead the way." (Letters of The Universal House of Justice, 1994 May 19, response to US NSA, Paragraph 47)

 Anyway, that was a digression. Here is another. One thing I noticed listening to Curtis Kelsey's voice in this recording was that his pronunciation sounded oddly like a couple of aunts I had, Aunt Marguerite and Aunt Amy. It took me a while to place what it was. Like them, he was slurring the middle of his words. "Valiu'llah Khan" becomes Valcon, etc. Both of these aunts of mine died from strokes, and Kelsey was taken, probably not long after this talk, by some other cardiovascular malady. It makes you think about that tablet (in the selection we featured from "He Loved and Served") where the Master wrote to his agent in Akka, asking him to go out of his way to accommodate Kelsey's protein-rich American diet. As the Master told Kelsey, "Now I am bringing My kindness, later on (Kelsey later understood this to mean the Guardian's ministry) I will bring My discipline." Certainly choice of diet is a discipline that Americans are at last beginning to realize is crucial for saving the planet, not to mention our own cardio-vascular health. This too the Master predicted that in the future everybody would become a veggie.

 Another thing the Master told Kelsey was that every dispensation starts with a new Adam, a new creation from scratch. That was what I sat down to write about this morning. But now I find that I have used up all my time. Shucks. Maybe next time.

 

TC2

Terra City II; The Infrastructure of World Government

By John Taylor; 2007 July 06

Because the sky, seas, coasts and land masses of our planet do not have borders written on them, it is not surprising that national governments with their artificial divisions have proven inadequate and have in fact caused this deep, dire climate crisis -- to enumerate the crowding dangers would only depress. If enlightened world leaders firmly resolve to consult in all our interests, and do what is necessary, it would be by no means impossible not only to accommodate vast numbers of climatic refugees with a minimum of dislocation but also to reduce our collective environmental footprint to nill. If we do it right, we could actually improve the way of life even of the most wealthy.

Of course this would require measures that would have seemed extreme not long ago, including major changes in lifestyle for the individual. But surveys indicate that there is already a tentative willingness on the part of most people to make sacrifices. More problematic, though, is the need to reduce the hegemony of nationalism. Doing that would allow for an increase in the influence of local and continental governments, both of which are in a better position to deal directly with the more intractable causes of the climate crisis. Coordinating them all on the planetary level, a vigorous world government would enforce compatible standards among its continental executives.

Here is how I imagine this coming about.

A small number of far-sighted statespersons finally persuaded nationalist governments that they are structurally incompetent to manage the whirlwind they brought down upon themselves. Faced with drought, hurricanes, famine, pestilence, refugees, economic collapse, they determined to completely reverse the causes of climate change. They devised a new polity, with legal and technical standards designed from the ground up for rapid adaptation. These are the early stages of implementation.

On each continent, our new world government has laid out a continental capitol. In an essay written in early June we sketched a formula to derive a sweet spot at the center of each continent (India and China count as independent continents) where these cities can be built. For convenience we called them Primus Africa, Primus Australasia, and so forth. Since Europe is the most advanced in this respect, the European Community is the model; their negotiators and administrators were called upon to draw up plans for an accelerated unification process on every other continent. What the EC did over many decades is being fast-tracked on other continents in less than one decade. Because of the urgent need for both speed and radical infrastructural change, it was deemed expedient, unlike in Europe, to build a completely new city built on relatively empty land that has been declared continental territory.

Once the ground was broken for the Primus capitol cities, the next order of business was to lay down a high speed rail link between each continental capitol. To begin with, planners adopted a tried and tested system, the French TGV. Later on, they may replace this with faster technologies, such as evacuated, underground tubes. Where oceans separate the continents, as between America and Asia, Australasia and Asia, and Antarctica from all other continents, engineers are hard at work building tunnels, or establishing air and sea shuttles to link them as efficiently as possible. On land, these rapid TGV railway corridors cut a broad swath of Continental territory, sometimes many kilometers in width. Here optimum facilities are being erected to accommodate and assimilate the millions and even billions of environmental refugees displaced by rising sea levels. Here, rather than in concentration camps, they will build vibrant communities that will be the envy of those stuck in obsolete living structures on high ground.

Yesterday we looked at the provisional capitol where specialists, delegates and deputies from continental parliaments come together to meet, in a world capitol we called Terra City. TC is erected on neutral ground, somewhere at or near the South Pole. In Spartan living conditions under highly insulated structures, our continental deputies are already discussing problems that affect all humanity, issues that reach beyond the continental level. Their designers and builders have erected a large compound, the skeleton of a much larger Terra City soon to come.

Strange as seems at first, the South Pole is the ideal location for a world government determined to reduce our environmental footprint. The same technology that allows us to stop destroying ecosystems in habitable regions also sustains our bodies on the moon or in the cold of Antarctica. The same personal discipline, the same energy-independent technologies, such as wind turbines and solar panels, the same high density living structures are required for both challenges. In addition, it was agreed that Antarctica, because of its physical isolation from the rest of the planet, would be the safest place for a world parliament, at least in the early stages of unification. Not even the paranoid can make a persuasive case, even if some despot did stage a successful coup d'etat that plunked way out in the middle of nowhere he could do much militarily to take over other continents, each of which is far bigger and stronger than Terra City.

At the center is a large geodesic dome housing a multimedia conference center, serving as both world parliament and a world software workshop. With live A/V links to its counterparts, the seven parliaments in the continental Primus cities, this communication center, or "peace room" (a war room does the reverse of what goes on here), is the nerve center for every universal concern of humanity. Underfoot is a huge "data farm," a vast network of servers running the next generation of the Internet, known as Web 4.0. This will have all the proposed upgrades, including improved privacy and security, as well as many other innovations, including an integrated portal, home page and bank account for every living person on earth.

Around the data center, inside the same building, are residential units housing the deputies and their assistants. Radiating out from this central dome are about a dozen other domes devoted to specialized research needs. The first dome erected was devoted to science and technology. Here the representatives of world class universities were immediately set to work designing the new Primus cities, the corridors linking them, and other world infrastructure.

Let us look in order at the other ancillary domes at TC next time.

 

Terra City

Terra City; Envisioning World Government

By John Taylor; 2007 July 04

National governments are binge alcoholics on a nationalistic bender. Soon they will be forced to admit their own impotence and surrender their abused sovereignty to a higher power, a world polity. In spite of accelerating crises and even lately a sea change in public opinion, they stubbornly refuse to take a step to reverse climate change, reduce corruption, eliminate regional conflict or address the many clear and present dangers that threaten us all. For decades the impotence of nationalism has been evident, but, drunk on power, world leaders persistently refuse to recognize that the day of absolute sovereignty is done.

We all know that, but how often do we even try to imagine something better? That is what I will try to do today.

A democratic world government would be history's first government without borders, a dominion that extends from sea to sea, from mountain to mountain. Its sole sovereign bounds would be the planet's only real, non-imaginary borders, that is, the natural barriers formed by the oceans, the seven seas that divide the world's land masses into five habitable continents.

How would it work? Here is how it might go.

World citizens on each of the earth's inhabited continents would elect from among themselves a continental parliament.

Because of their large populations, it would seem fair to treat China and India as independent continents. That would make seven continents, comprising India, China, Europe, which of course is the current leader in continental unification, North and South America, Australia (including the Philippines, Oceania and the South Seas) and Africa. Each of these parliamentary bodies would elect from among themselves a number proportionate to their subject's population of deputies and representatives to go to the world parliament.

Where should this universal, borderless government be situated? What should be Terra's capitol city?

It seems to me that, to begin with at least, there is only one logical candidate, only one truly neutral ground, Antarctica. A parliament built on our planet's only virtually uninhabited continent would come together on true international territory. There would be no question of displacing a native population. And because of the harsh conditions outside, everyone there would perforce abide in a protected, artificial environment, isolated both literally and figuratively from the passions, cultural baggage and conflicting loyalties that grow and fester in inhabited regions.

Terra's first capitol city, call it Terra City for now, would be located at or near the South Pole. Its inhabitants' only exposure to the natural environment would be an observatory looking out over the coldest and most barren territory on earth. Here our world representatives would live under admittedly Spartan conditions. Living in small, modular living pods, it would be difficult to distract these first leaders without borders from their task at hand, doing what Buckminster Fuller called "world-around" planning. The fact that they were plunked into the middle of nowhere would mean that they would soon be yearning to get it all over with and go home as quickly as possible.

This would be a good thing.

Such psychology was used by at least one boss who wanted shorter, pithier meetings. To do this, he abolished chairs from the conference room. This forced his staff to keep it as brief as possible so as to be able to get back to their desks and sit down. Power, like the weight of our body, is a heavy burden that is best born briefly.

Plus, the severe climate of Antarctica would have a bracing effect on the hearts as well as the minds of our representatives. Without the luxuries, perks and bribes that becloud the vision, explode the ideals and compromise the integrity of leaders in benign environments, these men and women would breathe the heady air of freedom, perhaps for the first time. By accepting an altered, curtailed, luxury-free daily routine, sleeping in a small bunk and subsisting on a doctor-prescribed, high fruit and vegetable diet of locally grown, hydroponic produce, inhabitants would see for the first time how to be a citizen without borders, to be connected with the true needs of our planet.

The first thing human governance must do is avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. I am thinking of what happened at the first Earth Summit in the early 1990's when the leader of the American Empire barefacedly refused to "put the American way of life up for negotiation." By placing the world's nerve center at the South Pole it would be understood by every visitor that indeed our way of life is the problem. Our way of life can and must be improved, both by technical advances and improvements in our thinking, if we are ever seriously to address climate change. Our lifestyle is not only wasteful, especially that of the wealthy and privileged, it is also primitive and base, unworthy of the nobility of a human being. This in fact must be the first thing to put onto the chopping block.

The private sphere in what should be called "mis-developed lands" is bloated, overheated and overgrown, while the public thing has shrunk. The aboriginal way is the way of the future, if we are to survive. The entire town planning and architecture of Terra City would be designed to counteract the shrinking of the public thing, and to show how to grow into the huge power vacuum left by the collapse of nationalism. The strict discipline of polar living would prepare world parliamentarians to adopt world housing and transportation standards based on the practical lessons and technical advances worked out at Terra City.

 

Caves

The Cave of the Covenant, I

By John Taylor; 2007 June 29

A cave is a natural place of refuge from the elements. Bears and wolves use them as dens; sanctuaries where they can either hibernate for the winter or in the spring nurture their young in safety. In a prayer for protection Abdu'l-Baha uses cave in this sense, as a refuge from danger,

"O my God! O my God! Guard them by the eye of Thy protection, preserve them in the cave of Thy defence, deliver them from the grade of the contingent world, protect them during the violence of tests and trials, and assist them by a power from the breath of Thy Holy Spirit, in the world of existence! Verily, Thou art the Beneficent, the Mighty, the Clement!" (Abdu'l-Baha, Tablets, Vol. 2, p. 275)

But of course a safe haven for one does not necessarily mean safety for everybody. This is why it is by no means safe for an unarmed traveler to wander into a cave until he can be sure that previous dwellers have vacated and will not return unexpectedly. There is evidence that our rivals for many thousands of years, the Neanderthals, were cave dwellers. Even today the word "troglodyte", for those who live in caves, is used often in a pejorative sense, indicating low, primitive sensibilities.

Caves have always played an important role in religion, both ancient and modern.

More often than you can count in religious history a cave was the only place that a saint or prophet had to dwell in. Anchorites fled to caves not just to be alone, or to escape the inclemency of nature, but to escape the wrath of society. Muhammad in His flight from Mecca hid in a cave, and was saved from discovery by His persecutors only by a fast-working spider whose large web persuaded the pursuers that He could not have gone in. Baha'u'llah fled the envy, disunity and disputation of the Babis and dwelled in a cave in southern Kurdistan for almost two years. In one of His best known prayers, "Blessed is the spot," He blesses the cave as the eighth of thirteen locations in which "mention of God hath been made and His praise glorified."

Jesus began His mission with 40 days in the wilderness, and was reaching the end when, upon entering Jerusalem at the time of Passover, a purification festival, He was angered to see what we would now call on-location concession booths selling pigeons to be sacrificed within the temple for the expiation  of inadvertent sins. Furious, He declared that this was a house of prayer, not a robber's cave (Matt 21:13). This was a reference to Jeremiah,

"Is this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes?" (Jer 7:11)

Who was robbed? God was, which is the same as saying that the people were being robbed of the vitality of their link to God. This incident was the only known case of "Jesus, meek and mild" being carried away by fury. As the Qu'ran was later to say, the only unforgivable sin is to compromise one's belief in the One God. By selling forgiveness, the Temple priests robbed the people and themselves of free and direct concourse with God, and turned holy ground into a cave or den, the home of predators.

For the Ancient Greeks, a cave was not an abomination but often was itself sacred ground. Caves lead into the mysterious bowels of the earth, where the dead take their last journey. Even the Jews of this time thought of the afterlife as taking place down below, in an underworld they called Sheol, “the land of gloom and deep darkness” (Job 10:21). As any reader of the New Testament knows, this was literally the case in Palestine; corpses were not usually buried. Paupers were left to rot in unsanitary dumps (the famous Gehenna was one near Jerusalem) and those of more respectable standing were left in caves, with stones rolled before the entrance to keep out scavengers.

For better or worse, caves were the place of the dead, and had associations with mystical, polytheistic cults. In Hellas, for example, the Delphic cult was centered upon an underground cave system. A cleft has been recently discovered down there, from which natural gasses escaped. The Oracle of Delphi was a young girl who went down into this cave alone and breathed the air. She soon become inebriated by the fumes, entered a trance and spoke words thought to be inspired of the gods.

But most caves were not sacred, and served as the only refuge of outcasts who would change the current religious order. One of the most illustrious of these cave dwelling reformers was Socrates, according to Baha'u'llah:

"After him came Socrates who was indeed wise, accomplished and righteous. He practised self-denial, repressed his appetites for selfish desires and turned away from material pleasures. He withdrew to the mountains where he dwelt in a cave. He dissuaded men from worshipping idols and taught them the way of God, the Lord of Mercy, until the ignorant rose up against him." (Baha'u'llah, Tablets, 146)

Baha'u'llah is pointing to a primal experience that Socrates, and indeed every mystic and prophet goes through. First come purification and enlightenment, then rejection and dwelling in the wilderness, often in a cave. Finally come persecution, sacrifice, and in the case of Socrates, martyrdom. This seems to indicate -- we will examine this in more detail later -- that Plato's famous parable of the Den or Cave was not so much a myth as a literal retelling of Socrates’ life experience.

May Maxwell, in her famous little account of her visit with the Master, "An Early Pilgrimage," mentions an experience the Master told about another troglodyte, a social outcast who hosted the ultimate Guest, an honor that kings in their castles and palaces of that time lost out on. We do not know in which cave this man lived, but probably it lies somewhere on the road between Baghdad and Istanbul.

"... if anyone mentioned that the food was delicious, He smiled lovingly on the speaker and said: `That is because your heart is full of love; when the heart is filled with love everything seems beautiful and delightful to us.' Then He told us the story of the hermit; how once when the Blessed Perfection was travelling from one place to another with His followers He passed through a lonely country where, at some little distance from the highway, a hermit lived alone in a cave. He was a holy man, and having heard that Our Lord, Baha'u'llah, would pass that way, he watched eagerly for His approach. When the Manifestation arrived at that spot the hermit knelt down and kissed the dust before His feet, and said to Him: 'Oh, my Lord, I am a poor man living alone in a cave nearby; but henceforth I shall account myself the happiest of mortals. If Thou wilt but come for a moment to my cave and bless it by Thy Presence.'

"Then Baha'u'llah told the man that He would come, not for a moment but for three days, and He bade His followers cast their tents, and await His return. The poor man was so overcome with joy and gratitude that he was speechless, and led the way in humble silence to his lowly dwelling in a rock. There the Glorious One sat with him, talking to him and teaching him, and toward evening the man bethought himself that he had nothing to offer his great Guest but some dry meat and some dark bread, and water from a spring nearby. Not knowing what to do he threw himself at the feet of his Lord and confessed his dilemma. Baha'u'llah comforted him and by a word bade him fetch the meat and bread and water; then the Lord of the universe partook of this frugal repast with joy and fragrance as though it had been a banquet, and during the three days of His visit they ate only of this food which seemed to the poor hermit the most delicious he had ever eaten. Baha'u'llah declared that He had never been more nobly entertained nor received greater hospitality and love. 'This,' exclaimed the Master, when He had finished the story, 'shows us how little man requires when he is nourished by the sweetest of all foods - the love of God.'" (An Early Pilgrimage, pp. 24-25)

Next time we will discuss another cave, the cave of Elijah, as well as Plato's Den.

Responsibility Without Borders

Responsibility Without Borders

By John Taylor; 2007 June 29

Today I want to talk more about a preoccupation here of late, decision making and authority.

Past decades have seen the rise of various professional service organizations calling themselves, "Doctors without Borders," "Engineers without Borders," "Journalists without Borders," and so on. I like that idea, because it describes just what we Baha'is are aiming for. A Baha'i is a citizen without borders. A Baha'i is someone who advocates leaders without borders. A leader without borders is anybody who seeks universal benefit over narrow, temporal good for a few. A polity is a planet without borders with leaders who do not see imaginary borders dividing us and making the whole weak. A leader without borders does not accept that power or statesmanship are the concern and responsibility of a few. We must decentralize power, take responsibility on our own shoulders and learn about power, learn how to rule ourselves first, so that each of us will know how to become our own leader without borders.

In matters of power, as with everything, moderation rules. Most people think of the saying, "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely" as coming from Lord Acton in the 19th Century, but he no doubt learned it straight from Plato. Plato learned his crowning lesson about politics in the bitterness of old age. The communitarian idealism of the greatest of philosophers hit the fan of Realpolitik when, after writing the Republic, he attempted to put theory into action by teaching a young tyrant how to rule. Plato became entangled in the beehive of court intrigue and ended up being sold into slavery. Only the intervention of friends saved Plato in the nick of time. Chastened, Plato wrote his Laws, which I for one regard as his greatest work.

From a Baha'i point of view, the Laws gives us an intimate vision of what the Guardian called the Age of Responsibility," the virtue-ruled, moderate, decentralized, consultative Order that we are all working to enact. Here is what Plato's Athenian Stranger has to say about moderate, communitarian power.

"... if any one gives too great a power to anything, too large a sail to a vessel, too much food to the body, too much authority to the mind, and does not observe the mean, everything is overthrown, and, in the wantonness of excess runs in the one case to disorders, and in the other to injustice, which is the child of excess. I mean to say, my dear friends, that there is no soul of man, young and irresponsible, who will be able to sustain the temptation of arbitrary power -- no one who will not, under such circumstances, become filled with folly, that worst of diseases, and be hated by his nearest and dearest friends: when this happens, his kingdom is undermined, and all his power vanishes from him. And great legislators who know the mean should take heed of the danger." (Plato, Laws)

Moderate authority allows its wielder to stay flexible, to retain perspective, a sense of humor and the ability to be self-critical. That surely is what Baha'u'llah was talking about when He wrote in a prayer,

"...they who are in authority have borne witness to their own evanescence and to the evanescence of others, and discovered the eternity of Thy majesty, and of Thy sovereignty, and of Thy sublimity, and of Thy power." (Prayers and Meditations, 281)

Many have taken the vision of society that Plato advocates in the Laws as a dark and dismal one, but that is to confuse the external control of totalitarianism with the internal self-discipline of the Kingdom of Spirit. The latter, inner power, would rule in an equal, just and free community guided by Divine Law. This same vision, in this same order, equal, just, free, was the dream of Moses, the First Liberator. Under Pharaoh he envisioned equality under the law, as opposed to the inherent tyranny of rule by men, be they one man, a few men, or many. The only worthy law for this is one that comes from above. So, coming down from the Mount, He brought the Ten Commandments down, establishing justice and right.

I just learned something new about these ten Laws of Moses. It seems that the commandment not to covet is repeated in the original, "Thou shalt not covet, shalt not covet..." Some took this as a mistake, but others took it mystically, like the disconnected letters of the Qu'ran. They understand this repetition to imply that the need not to envy what others have is twice as important as any of the other Commandments. If so, that would jibe with what Plato says above, that immoderation is bad for two reasons, because it confuses and because it leads to injustice. If I covet the advantages of others, I confuse my emotions and misdirect them from the just solutions given me to solve.

After the death of Moses, a new generation of liberated Hebrew slaves, armed by equality and justice, entered the promised land of freedom, a land of milk and honey. But in the wilderness, it did indeed seem dark and dismal. But that was only a condition of slavery. The free must be free inside to see the beauty of responsibility. The land of plenty was not dark and dismal, it was bright and glorious when they were pure enough to take it.

One aspect of modernism has obscured our collective freedom, blocked our personal vision of collective vision, and made it impossible to appreciate the merits of Plato's communitarian ideal. I am speaking of psychologism. This offers a vision of human nature denuded of responsibility. An atheistic belief system, it asks, "Responsible? To what are human beings responsible?" Ultimately the only answer to that question is, "We are responsible to the One, to God." Since they deny God, the only alternative is an organic model of cure.

Harmful, deviant thoughts are caused by an illness that only a trained professional priesthood is qualified to cure. Psychiatry prescribes an indefinite period of therapy to remove the thorn of angst and subconscious urges. In Woody Allen's "Sleeper" his character sleeps two hundred years and when he awakes quips, "You know, I was going to an analyst and I think if I can get another couple of centuries of treatment I might actually be cured." Thus our sins and wrongs are not the result of wrong thoughts and actions; they are a sickness that afflicts us through no fault of our own. We need a cure to wrong thinking, even when caused by moral wrong.

I was startled to hear in the recorded talk of Curtis Kelsey (mentioned here a few days ago) that the Guardian told Zebby Whitehead that psychiatry is "foolishness." That is a strong blanket statement! But I had arrived at that conclusion myself, after a fair bit of reading, so I was not surprised. I had already set aside the following elaboration of this opinion of the Guardian, or something along the same lines, by Ruhiyyih Rabbani.

"Individuals, nations, Baha'i communities, the human race, are all held accountable for their acts. Though there are many factors involved in all our decisions, the essence of Baha'i belief is that God gives us the chance, the help, and the strength, to make the right one and that for it we will be rewarded and failing it we will be punished. This concept is almost the opposite of the teachings of modern psychology. This principle was brought home very vividly to me in my personal life. When the beloved Guardian did me the great and unexpected honour of choosing me to be his wife, I had the idea that for me, at least, all my troubles of wondering what my spiritual end would be were over. I was going to be near him. It was like dying and going to heaven where nothing more could get at me. One day, in the course of conversation, Shoghi Effendi said to me words to this effect: "Your destiny lies in the palm of your own hand!" I was horrified! It had come back to me, the life-long struggle to do the right thing for the sake of my own soul." (Ruhiyyih Khanum, The Priceless Pearl, 357-358)

Even a king has not "died and gone to heaven." He is not absolved of the same responsibility we all have. Indeed, when Baha'u'llah wrote to the Sultan, He counseled him to check in on his ministers more often. He had given them too free a hand. Plus, he should let his responsibility begin in his own taking of himself into account, "every day, every moment" of his life.

Presumably a moderate frequency of taking oneself into account, then, lies somewhere between daily and momently, at a sweet spot between turning to God every day and every second. The latter, every single thought in God, would clearly be too much. It would be an immoderate extreme and would lead to the narrow mind of a fanatic; it would make the organization under such a leader into a cult.

Most of all, it would snuff out responsibility rather than enhance it. It would make robots of us all.

We need ever to bear in mind that God wants for us real responsibility, not a sham that pretends to piety while absolving us our end of the bargain. That is the kind of thinking that created a power vacuum filled by the foolishness of psychiatry. It has made psychologism more attractive than its religious opposite, responsibility to God. We followers of religion must ever bear in mind what the Qu'ran advises, that God is the best of deciders and we need to follow His example of taking charge, not to cede everything to Him:

"In Allah do we put our trust. Our Lord! Decide with truth between us and our folk, for Thou art the best of those who make decision." (Qur'an 7, Pickthall tr)

This is not asking God to smite the rival beliefs to the Cause of God. It asks God to "decide with truth," that is, not to force the issue but to bring believers into the truth and thereby make theirs the best and most attractive alternative to all beholders. This is a scientific criterion. Power is the ability to find a mean that maximizes both our responsiveness and our responsibility. The Master wrote:

"In the same way, in all the action or inaction of man, he receives power from the help of God; but the choice of good or evil belongs to the man himself. So if a king should appoint someone to be the governor of a city, and should grant him the power of authority, and should show him the paths of justice and injustice according to the laws -- if then this governor should commit injustice, although he should act by the authority and power of the king, the latter would be absolved from injustice. But if he should act with justice, he would do it also through the authority of the king, who would be pleased and satisfied." (Abdu'l-Baha, Some Answered Questions, p. 250)

two chapters

Chapters 6 & 8, He Loved and Served

By Nathan Rutstein, scanned and proofed, 2007 June 30

 

Chapter 6

 

Meticulous about his work, Curtis didn't want to do anything that would flaw the lighting project in any way. Even aesthetic matters concerned him. The thought of having to lay the thick black wire, that Roy sent over, along the Shrines' interior walls, bothered him. The wires should be buried behind the walls. Special wiring was needed, and the only place where he could secure it was in Cairo.

'Abdu'l-Baha gave Curtis $600 and asked that he take Fujita along because 'he would enjoy Cairo.' The Master loved Fujita dearly, showering special care over the precious pearl from Japan. Every day the two would have breakfast together - alone. It was a time of peace, when the Master could bask in the light of Fujita's purity, not having to meet any demands. Often their breakfasts were feasts of laughter, especially after 'Abdu'l-Baha asked Fujita to grow a beard. When full-grown, it was at best a thin collection of long hairs, nothing like the thick luxuriant beards Persians grow. The Master enjoyed stroking Fujita's wispy beard, usually making' Him laugh. Fujita was happy that he could bring pleasure to 'Abdu'l-Baha's life. But there was a time when he questioned whether he could be doing something more useful than serving 'Abdu'l-Baha.

Fujita, who came from a prominent Japanese family, heard of the Faith in San Francisco from Mrs Helen Goodall. Before becoming a Baha'i, he was a notorious party-hopper, associating with theater people. Learning that Fujita had become a Baha'i, the Master wrote him a tablet, praising him for the step he had taken and for the wonderful person he was. 'The person He's writing about,' Fujita thought, 'couldn't be me.' So he didn't take the letter seriously. After the third letter from 'Abdu'l-Baha, Fujita wrote the Master asking what he could do to best serve the Faith. 'Go back to school,' 'Abdu'l-Baha advised. Fujita went to Ann Arbor, Michigan to study.

In 1912 Fujita met the Master, who urged him to complete his schooling. Upon graduation, 'Abdu'l-Baha promised, He would have him come to the World Center to work. Fujita went to Chicago to complete his engineering studies. He spent seven years, living with Mrs Corinne True and her family. Afterwards he went to Haifa, but never got close to a drafting table. He found himself working as a servant in the Western Pilgrim House, certainly not putting into practice what he had studied at the university. This disturbed him; being in Haifa, he convinced himself, was a mistake, and he decided to go back to America. While packing his clothes, Ruhi Afnan appeared, stating that 'Abdu'l-Baha wanted to see him immediately. Fujita ran to the Master's house. As he entered 'Abdu'l-Baha's room, the Master said, 'What is the matter, Fujita?'

'You told me to study certain things, and I'm not doing them here.'

'Fujita,' the Master said, 'if I wanted a mechanic or engineer I could have gotten one easily. The work you are doing for me is what 'Abdu'l-Baha wishes you to do.'

The Master's love dispelled every trace of self-pity and Fujita replied, 'If I must shine the Master's shoes that would be fine for me.' Fujita had gained understanding: he was a servant of the Servant of Glory. What greater honor could there be? For there was no greater station in this life than servitude.

Curtis and Fujita together must have generated stares from passers-by. Fujita in his shoes was less than five foot tall, possessing what Curtis called a 'wispy, moth-eaten beard.' Curtis on the other hand was about six foot, rangy, and took long strides when he walked. Half the time Fujita had to trot to keep up with Curtis. Though superficially different, they grew to like each other, often swimming together in the sea on hot days and sharing some of their deepest thoughts and feelings.

Excited that he was going to Cairo, Fujita insisted on taking his tuxedo along, which he vowed he would wear. Curtis was skeptical about Fujita's chances of wearing it, because they were on a purchasing mission, and they had not received invitations to any balls.

It was dark when they arrived in Cairo. While standing on the platform of the Cairo railroad station, wondering what hotel they should go to, they heard a woman call, 'Allah-u-Abha.' They turned and saw a large woman, dressed in fancy clothes, followed by her two sons and a daughter. This American lady had met Curtis and Fujita while on pilgrimage, and when she approached them, asked, 'What brings you to Cairo?'

When they explained, she insisted that they stay where she was staying - the Continental Hotel, one of the most expensive hotels in northern Africa in 1921.

As they stepped into the lobby, they were dazzled by the elegance of the place. Every person seemed so self-assured, so important. And because Curtis and Fujita were there, the hotel-workers assumed that they were people of high social rank. The bell-hop who escorted them to their room treated them with deference. But that illusion was soon shattered when they reached the room. When the bell-hop opened the door, both Curtis and Fujita gaped at the opulence before them. What a contrast to their room in Haifa. Fujita wasn't one to hide his feelings; he dropped his suitcase and sprinted to one of the two large beds and dove onto one of them. Curtis burst into laughter, because there was Fujita enveloped by the thick quilts, with only his face exposed, beaming with delight, enjoying thoroughly something he had taken for granted during his party-hopping days in California.

For a few minutes both men acted as if they had been dispatched to some dream world, because they had difficulty believing that their new surroundings were real. They had just come from a place where the mattresses were only three-quarters of an inch thick, and you shook out your shoes before putting them on lest your toes be greeted by a scorpion.

The beds were so soft, so appealing that the first thing they decided to do was sleep and sleep for as long as they wanted. But that plan was quickly altered, because soon after making their decision, they heard someone knocking on the door. It was a bell-hop, dressed in a colorful uniform, with a message from the lady who had invited them to stay at the Continental Hotel. 'Would you please join me for dinner?' she asked. Fujita wasn't yawning anymore; the message had infused new energy into him. Curtis watched what he thought would never materialize actually happen. Fujita tore into his suitcase, pulled out his tuxedo and put it on. Somehow, Curtis felt, 'Abdu'l-Baha had made it possible for Fujjta to carry out his wish.

When they reached the lobby, Fujita seemed to take charge, walking ahead of Curtis and the lady who had invited them to dinner, his tuxedo tails almost touching the rich oriental rugs. As he approached the dining room, one of the hotel's elegantly dressed butlers, standing erect, opened the thick oak doors. It was a majestic entry. The only thing missing was a series of trumpet fanfares and the roll of the drum. Terribly self-conscious, Curtis walked down the aisle after Fujita, who was bowing to the left and then to the right. The men on both sides stood and bowed back, sensing that Fujita was some sort of royal figure from the orient.

No sooner had they been seated, than a butler approached Fujita and whispered something in his ear. Fujita arose and proceeded to the door, again bowing to the left and then the right, the gentlemen on both sides responding in kind.

As Fujita entered the lobby, he was greeted by a large Persian who swept him into his arms and kissed his beard. The Persian had heard from pilgrims that the Master enjoyed stroking Fujita's beard.

The trip to Cairo was successful. Curtis purchased the wire he needed, and his dear friend Fujita was able to satisfy a long yearning. After the Cairo episode, Fujita stopped opening his trunk to show off his rich collection of clothing to Curtis and Lutfu'llah. It was as if the experience in Egypt had severed a certain attachment that Fujita had had to the old status quo.

In the United States, Curtis would never think of going to a place to hear someone speak if the speaker spoke in a language he couldn't understand. But in Haifa Curtis wouldn't miss 'Abdu'l-Baha's talks in the Pilgrim House every night, or on Sunday in the central front room of the Shrine of the Bab. The Master spoke in either Arabic or Persian. Yet Curtis was drawn to the meetings by 'Abdu'l-Baha and he sat like the other people with his arms folded across his chest, at times wearing a fez. Not that that was a special way that Baha'is were to sit in the presence of the Master. It was simply something the local people did whenever they sat before someone they deemed prominent or revered. So that he wouldn't insult or slight them, this young American, who had the spirit of a cowboy, struggled to adopt the local people's customs.

The Master must have known that Curtis' intentions were pure and that he was gaining something by attending the meetings. One evening, about midway through His talk, 'Abdu'l-Baha looked over at Curtis and asked in English, 'Do you understand what is being said here?'

'No, Master,' Curtis responded. 'I do not speak the languages. '

'Well, your heart understands, and the language of the heart is much stronger than the language of words.'

After that experience, Curtis began to understand that words weren't required to reach true communication with someone. As his understanding of that experience grew, he was able to be with someone and feel comfortable without uttering a word. He also learned from 'Abdu'l-Baha that a pure expression of love can settle a troubled heart, even answer questions that one is afraid to ask openly. Curtis experienced this one Sunday while in the Shrine of the Bab, attending a talk by the Master. He found his mind drifting and questioning various aspects of the Teachings, which he didn't understand. It was troubling him. While his eyes were focused on the floor, Curtis felt a strong impulse to look up. When he did, he noticed the Master in the far comer looking at him and smiling ... Though nothing was said, all of Curtis' questions and doubts vanished.

In a way Curtis' experience in the Holy Land with 'Abdu'l-Baha was an ongoing lesson on how to live life. Everything that happened was meaningful, even death, especially how we die.

Elderly Abu'l-Hasan, who belonged to the family of the Bab, committed suicide at dawn one day. He didn't take his life because he felt he was a drain on his family and 'Abdu'l-Baha: he was an able workman at the World Center and the Master loved him dearly. Nor was it because he had suffered so much in his life, especially in Persia. His suicide was a carefully calculated act. After settling all of his personal affairs, he strode down to the sea, folded his clothes neatly, and leaving them on the beach, walked into the sea. His death grieved 'Abdu'l-Baha. On the day of the funeral, the Master helped to carry Abu'l-Hasan's coffin to the grave site.

Curtis learned from 'Abdu'l-Baha that there was no valid reason for committing suicide. That point was made in addressing the friends in His nightly talk at His home, the day after Abu'l-Hasan's funeral.

“No one should injure himself on purpose or take his own life,” He said; “God never places a burden on us greater than we can carry. Each burden we endure is for our own good and development. Should anyone at any time encounter hard and perplexing times, he must say to himself, `This too will pass;’ then he will grow calm.”

“When experiencing difficulties,” He added, “I would say to myself `this too will pass away,’ and I would become calm again.”

“Now if someone cannot be patient and endure then it is better for him to arise in the service of the Cause of God. It would be better for him to pursue the path of martyrdom than to commit suicide.”

A few days after making those statements, 'Abdu'l-Baha passed away, ending a lifetime of martyrdom. The friends then realized that Mirza Abu'l-Hasan had sensed that the One he loved more than anyone else would soon be gone and that he couldn't bear to live without Him.

 

 

He Loved and Served, The Story of Curtis Kelsey, by Nathan Rutstein, George Ronald, Oxford, pp. 75-82

 

 

Chapter 8

'Get up! Get up! The Master! The Master!' someone cried, while pounding on the door of Curtis' room. Alarmed, the three young men inside awoke, jumped out of bed and groped in the dark for their clothes. It was about 1:00 A.M., November 28, and cool. But the weather didn't bother them, as they dashed to 'Abdu'l-Baha's house, Curtis still tucking his shirt into his trousers.

As Curtis entered the house, people were weeping, some hysterically. He had to practically push his way through the crowd of people, mostly Persians, groaning and moaning, some wailing uncontrollably. When he reached the Master's room, Dr Florian Krug was standing beside the bed where 'Abdu’l-Baha lay. The physician, who had arrived in Haifa with his wife two weeks earlier, turned to Curtis and said, 'The Master has just ascended.'

Dr Krug, a prominent New York doctor, who bitterly opposed the Faith when his wife embraced it, and then became a Baha'i when he met 'Abdu'l-Baha in America, closed the lids of the Master's eyes.

Curtis had never witnessed such deeply felt despair. For some reason, he couldn't show any emotion. That wasn't like him for he wasn't hard-hearted. Perhaps he wasn't faithful, he thought, and forced himself to cry; but he stopped when an inner voice commanded, 'No, not that; now is the time to observe.’

Curtis stood silently for a few moments, gazing at that mighty figure, on the bed, that had cast light into his life and helped him to understand and experience joy. It always felt good to be with Him, so good. He would have done anything for 'Abdu'l-Baha. Curtis was too close to his Holy Land experiences to appreciate what the Master had taught him, breathed into him. But through the years it became evident little by little.

There was pandemonium in the main central room. Ruhi Afnan, the Master's grandson, was sobbing, beating his head with his fists, and blaming the death of the Master on the American believers' disobedience. Of course, Curtis knew that wasn't true. Some people were crying out, as if asking God, 'Why does this have to happen? What will become of the Cause now that the Master is gone?'

The one who could answer those questions was across the room. The Greatest Holy Leaf calmly went about comforting the grief-stricken, absorbing their pain. As Curtis watched her move from person to person, stroking a shoulder, clasping a stretched-out hand, he noticed that she exhibited the kind of strength that 'Abdu'l-Baha radiated. Some sensed that and clung to her. Her control, her poise, her unrestrained flow of compassion assured him that the Faith would not falter. She was, at that moment, the head of the Faith that her dear brother had led so successfully for twenty-nine years, giving His all. She was a tower of strength that all would rally around for support.

As he watched the Greatest Holy Leaf, her eyes caught his and she walked over to him. Since he was not crying, he wondered why she was coming toward him.

'Kelsey,' she said, 'will you take Fujita and Khusraw to 'Akka to tell the friends there of the Master's passing and then come right back?'

It was about two-thirty in the morning when they piled into the Master's Ford, with Curtis in the driver's seat, Fujita beside him and Khusraw in the back. There was no longer any chill in the air; in fact it was a balmy night; the same kind of night as when Curtis walked with the Master to Bahji. The only sounds were the rhythmic beat of the surf washing over the beach and pulling back to the sea - and the near quiet crying of Fujita and Khusraw. Tears welled up in Curtis' eyes as he thought of 'Abdu'l-Baha, and his experiences with Him during the past two months and he began to cry openly when he thought of what a shock the Master's passing would be to the friends across the world. It was more than losing a close friend, or a member of your family. So many would feel that their link with God had been severed.

Though Curtis was weeping, he kept driving. He couldn't stop, for the Greatest Holy Leaf wanted the believers in 'Akka to know about the passing of the Master. Curtis began to pray for strength.

Soon all three stopped crying, because they were approaching a stream that they had to cross in order to reach their destination. The car stopped, and Khusraw waded into t he water, searching for a sand bar. Without one it would be impossible to drive across the stream, which fed into the Bay of Haifa. In a matter of minutes, Khusraw found what he was looking for; and Curtis followed him, making it safely to shore. Soon they encountered another stream and conquered it in the same way.

Sharing the sad news with the friends, especially after waking them, was difficult. All of them expressed disbelief; some stared at the three young men as if what they had heard was part of a dream. Curtis' immediate instinct was to stay with the friends, to try to comfort them, but they had to be back as soon as possible. After urging the 'Akka friends to come to Haifa to attend the funeral, Curtis, Fujita and Khusraw rushed back to Haifa to see what they could do next for the Greatest Holy Leaf.

They were cruising at about thirty miles per hour. At that pace they would be back in plenty of time to help with early morning chores at 'Abdu'l-Baha's house. Getting over the first stream proved no problem, because they followed the tracks they had made going to 'Akka. Negotiating the second one appeared as easy - the tracks were still visible. But the sand bar wasn't where it was before; it had shifted and the car began to sink. All three scrambled out of the Ford, with Curtis yelling, 'Do what I do!'

Curtis, with water up to his hips, was lifting one of the front wheels, trying to keep it from touching the mucky stream floor. Fujita and Khusraw were beside him, having difficulty with their footing. The water was up to Fujita's neck and Khusraw's shoulders; and when they tried to lift the wheel, their legs gave way and they ended up floating and clinging to the running board. That wasn't going to be much help, Curtis thought. He couldn't allow the car to settle into the mud, yet he couldn't continue to bear most of the weight of the vehicle.

Remembering that before approaching the stream, about two miles away, he had noticed several husky Arab fishermen casting nets into the sea, Curtis asked Khusraw to fetch them. While Khusraw was gone, Curtis and Fujita moved from wheel to wheel ... trying to keep them from becoming captives of the mud. But keeping the car afloat wasn't their only worry. They felt they were needed back in Haifa because the Greatest Holy Leaf had said they should return immediately. Being stuck in a stream about nine miles from Haifa on the day of the Master's passing rankled Curtis.

In about thirty minutes Curtis noticed the fishermen coming, with Khusraw leading the way; all of them talking loudly in Arabic and gesturing freely. They ran into the water, joining the weary Curtis and Fujita. With great ease, they lifted the car from the water-and onto the shore pointing toward Haifa. After drying the carburetor, the three young Baha'is resumed their trip back to Haifa.

Even in death the Master was the cause of unity, advancing the principle of the oneness of humankind. People from all quarters of Haifa, poor and rich, marched side by side to 'Abdu'l-Baha's house, where the casket rested. Others had come long distances to attend the Master's funeral. The High Commissioner of Palestine, Sir Herbert Samuel, the Governor of Phoenicia, the Governor of Jerusalem, Druze leaders from the Lebanon Mountains: Turks, Kurds, Arabs, Greeks, Egyptians, Germans, Swiss, Americans, Persians and British were a part of the spontaneous outpouring of respect for 'Abdu'l-Baha that turned into a procession of about ten thousand. It was as if the Master were standing on the mountain top, arms outstretched, drawing the multitudes together as one family. Even the religious leaders, Anglican, Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox priests, along with the chiefs of the Muslim community and Jewish leaders, marched together united in their love and admiration for one they knew was brought to Palestine as a despised prisoner and who rose out of the bondage of injustice through His deep love and unqualified service to all. They knew how often His life was threatened; how small-minded men plotted to seize the Baha'i properties, which he guarded like a lion; and in the crowd were those who at one time were infected by the poisonous rumours circulated by the enemies of the Faith and Covenant-breakers, but who grew to love the Master after meeting Him.

Everyone knew that 'Abdu'l-Baha had helped to keep the people of Haifa and 'Akka from starving during World War One. 'Abdu'l-Baha had often spent hours on His feet giving sacks of wheat, which he had grown Himself, to the poor of Haifa and 'Akka. There was no way they could repay Him for what He had done for them. No wonder merchants. closed their shops, teachers shut down their school, and governmental officials left their desks to be at 'Abdu'l-Baha's funeral. No one there could remember the likes of the human outpouring of appreciation and love that was afforded 'Abdu'l-Baha. It was unprecedented.

The people marched slowly up Mount Carmel, passing the coffin containing the remains of the Master, from out-stretched hands to out-stretched hands. People vied with each other for the privilege of carrying the casket for only a moment. And they weren't Baha'is. For two hours they marched, as many wailed, '0 God! My God! Our Father has left us, our Father has left us!' Halfway to the Shrine of the Bab, a troop of Boy Scouts placed a wreath on the coffin.

For Curtis it was a time to observe, as that inner voice had commanded the night the Master passed away. And he was recording the historic event with the camera his mother had given him the day he left home for Haifa. He ran alongside of the procession, ran ahead, climbed steep cliffs to get pictures from all angles. It turned out that the photographs he took of the Master's funeral were among the best taken, and were later used in books.

When the procession finally reached the garden at the Shrine of the Bab, the casket, draped with a simple paisley shawl, was tenderly placed upon a plain table covered with a white linen cloth.

People pressed closer to the coffin, in a last expression of love for their dear, departed friend. There were nine speakers, leaders of the Jewish, Christian and Muslim communities. So glowing were their eulogies that there was no need for a Baha'i speaker. With fervor and passion, they hailed Him as the true friend of the poor and downtrodden, praised Him for His work in developing understanding between different religions and different races and called Him the leader of mankind. The crowd heard a saint being described and they knew it was an accurate description, for many had been the recipients of His love and care.

Curtis heard the speeches in Arabic and French, and though he couldn't understand what was being said, he could feel the love and reverence in the voices of the orators, and the grief and sense of loss in the crowd. But despite all of the acclaim showered on the Master, Curtis knew that few people on that sunny day on Mount Carmel understood what 'Abdu'l-Baha represented to humanity and what He was truly working for. Curtis knew that the Master was more than a saint.

The casket was lifted carefully from the table and placed on the broad shoulders of the Shrine's caretaker, who stepped slowly into the vault in the room next to the one sheltering the remains of the Bab. Only one man could take the casket down, for there was no room for anyone else. After the funeral, this same caretaker, a powerful man, realized why the Master had asked him a puzzling question the day before He passed away: 'You are a strong man. Could you not carry me away to a place where I could rest? I'm tired of this world. '

 

He Loved and Served, The Story of Curtis Kelsey, by Nathan Rutstein, George Ronald, Oxford, pp. 93-100