tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46570471214154010442024-03-13T07:10:04.159-07:00Unenrolled Baha'iReaching out to the wider Baha'i world.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-86043134772164965312013-08-29T05:29:00.001-07:002013-08-29T05:29:29.664-07:005 Ways To Bring Mindfulness Into Everyday Life, by Headspace.com<a href="http://www.dailygood.org/story/497/5-ways-to-bring-mindfulness-into-everyday-life-headspace-com/">5 Ways To Bring Mindfulness Into Everyday Life, by Headspace.com</a>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-13291375581724602922011-05-22T12:19:00.000-07:002011-05-22T12:42:11.340-07:00A Fork in the PathAs was apparent from my last entry here, I’ve been going through some major changes in my spiritual life. It really started with the addition of meditation to my spiritual practice. Naturally, I would meditate on Baha’i words and themes, but I found that thoughts about the online conflicts and problems in the Baha’i community always intruded. Now, extraneous thoughts always intrude when one is beginning to meditate, but in my case, they were negative and anxiety-producing. I got to a place where I just felt very confused, so one night, I recited a tablet of Baha’u’llah’s that is supposed to give one answers in dreams -- and the answer I got, through some fairly obvious symbols, was that as long as I stayed within a Baha’i framework, I would be stuck in a place of hurt and grief and that there were other things waiting for me. <br /><br /> I find myself imagining legions of ex-Baha’is saying “Well, hell, I could have told you that!” No, you couldn’t. Baha’u’llah had to; I loved him, and didn’t want to leave him. Even now, under times of emotional stress I find myself returning to him in thought and prayer. This was not something that I took lightly, with a “La-di-da, I’ve outgrown all that” attitude. I was heartbroken over what happened in the Faith, and even ten years after leaving the community, was certain I would always be a Baha’i. Indeed, when I started going to Ananda last September, I introduced myself as a Baha’i and made it clear I had no intention of changing that commitment. During this period, what I was looking for was a mantra, or a non-Baha’i meditation technique that would keep me away from the negative thoughts and feelings associated with the Baha’i Faith.<br /><br /> But meditation techniques are not separate from the religions that spawned them. So, my experimentation in practice also led to experimentation in different religions. I mostly kept quiet about this -- I didn’t want to make any grand announcements about something that might prove to be just a temporary enthusiasm, as several things were.<br /><br /> I should make it clear that I have not been on a “search for Truth”. I think it’s an illusion that any human has “the Truth”; all we have is the small portion our eyes can see and our minds can know. To believe you have “the Truth” only props up in the ego in the long run. What I’ve been looking for is something that works. That is, something that is transformative in a positive way. So, instead of reasoning out a belief system, then following its practices; I experimented with practices, then pondered the belief system. What I have found in the two different religious communities that have had had contact with (Ananda and the Buddhist Dharma Center in Chico) is that nobody has inquired into my beliefs. They just worship and/or meditate,and give a little sermon that illuminates one aspect or another of their beliefs and practices. While both groups wish to spread and advance their teachings, formal membership is not a big issue and is seldom mentioned.<br /><br /> I’ve fallen in love with the <a href="http://www.skycreekdharmacenter.org/index.html">Sky Creek Dharma Center</a>, although it is not as available to me as <a href="http://www.anandachico.org/index.htm">Ananda.</a> We’ve had an exceptionally beautiful spring here in northern California, and the Dharma center is in a lovely spot outside of town. There are four different sanghas (Buddhist communities) there, that have outside connections to different Buddhist organizations. They each have meditation on different evenings, but I have been limited to a once a month “sit” on Saturdays, and daylong retreats, that so far, have been offered by two of the sanghas. Since “noble silence” is maintained on these occasions, I haven’t gotten to know anybody very well -- except for Bob the bell-ringer for the Saturday sits. I’ve sometimes thought that part of the Baha’i Faith’s problem is that it spends so much time talking, which is bound to bring conflict, then if you disagree, you’re just supposed to swallow it and go along with the most powerful and authoritative-sounding voice. It’s practically a recipe for discontent. If there is any competition or friction between the different sanghas at Sky Creek, I’m not aware of it. I plan to start going to one of the evening programs once school ends, but I’ll have to abandon it again in mid-August, when I have to be up and ready to for phone calls. (It's a 40 minute drive for me to Chico, and I get up at 5:00 a.m. during the school year.)<br /><br /> Ananda is far more accessible, with its regular Sunday services, and the people I’ve gotten to know over tea and vegetarian goodies are very sweet -- I have a stronger sense of community there. However, in my private practice, I’ve pretty much become a Buddhist. The problem of Buddhism being non-theistic hasn’t been the issue that I thought it would be. After all, nobody has made me swear not to believe in God. In fact, Thich Nhat Hanh freely mentions God in his books for Westerners. I even still say some Baha’i prayers that I’m fond of. But, Buddhist practice is just practical and peaceful and takes me for who and what I am. Progress without pressure. I like that. I like that a lot.<br /><br /> Here's the practice, I've been using as a basic framework: <a href="http://www.howtopracticezen.com/beginningzen.html"> Beginning Zen Practice.</a> I also add a few other things I've learned along the way, but it's a good place to start for anyone interested.<br /><br /> May all beings be happy!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-19530776807492804502011-01-07T08:17:00.000-08:002011-01-07T08:24:58.445-08:00Om Sweet OmI’ve noticed that a lot of unenrolled Baha’is end up drifting towards more liberal religious communities for fellowship -- they start attending worship services with the Unitarians, or liberal Quakers, or Buddhists, or one of the more tolerant Christian churches. I’m not really much of a social person, so I wasn’t looking real hard -- for one thing, I had just come out of a bad experience with religious membership and wasn’t anxious to repeat it. In fact, unless God strikes me with a lightening bolt or something, I don’t plan on ever signing up, or swearing fealty, or undergoing an initiatory ritual with any organized faith.<br /><br /> I have, however, expanded my study of yoga. I was into yoga before I became a Baha’i; I first read the Bhagavad Gita when I was fourteen. For various reasons, with immaturity topping the list, I never really developed a spiritual practice -- it was all in my head, the way I thought the cosmos worked. It was a kind of homecoming, my conversion to the Baha’i Faith -- a return to Abrahamic religion. One debt I owe it is the habit of regular spiritual practice (what yogis call sadhana). Three times a day, I go back into my room for prayers and scripture reading. I had abandoned all things yogic when I became a Baha’i, but it seemed natural to go back to them once I got through the grieving process of leaving. And since I’m in my room praying three times a day anyway, adding a bit of mantra chanting and meditation is pretty easy to do. <br /><br /> Eventually, I went looking for meditation classes. I know how to meditate, but there are things of value to be learned from a teacher. What I found was the Ananda center in Chico, which to my delight and surprise, has worship services every Sunday.<br /><br /> Of course, I checked into the history of what is properly known as “ Ananda Sangha Worldwide” It was established in 1968 by Swami Kriyananda (aka J. Donald Walters), who was tossed out of the Self-Realization Fellowship, and founded his own group. Both of them claim to be true heirs of Yogananda’s teachings, and I was treated to the drearily familiar spectacle of mutual recriminations, lawsuits, scandals, and just plain pettiness that seems to go along with religious infighting. *sigh* People are the same everywhere. There are several other SRF offshoots, but I have the impression that Ananda is the largest -- or maybe it’s just the one that’s in northern California, or the one that irritates SRF the most.<br /><br /> Deciding who is right in these controversies doesn’t matter to me, because I have no intention of becoming a member. Membership appears to be a fairly complex matter anyway, requiring a series of meditation classes, and a final initiation that not everyone passes. I go to Ananda because it‘s available to me, within easy driving distance and has regular Sunday Services with nice and welcoming people. The beginner’s meditation class falls on an evening inconvenient for me, so the question of membership hasn’t even arisen.<br /><br /> There are some similarities to the Baha’i community -- one being that it’s small, which is o.k. because I’m used to that and would feel totally out of place in a large congregation. Maybe a dozen people show up on Sunday, although there are people I’ve never met who show up to the meditation classes and other workshops. The other is the quiet, meditative atmosphere. But otherwise, the differences are huge -- and to be fair, not all the drawbacks are on the Baha’i side of the equation.<br /><br /> The first thing I was exposed to when I encountered the Baha’is was the basic teachings and history of the Faith. For Ananda, virtually everything I know has come from my own research. Without it, I’d still be unclear about whose pictures are up on the altar. The service consists of prayers, repeated after the leader (I’m still unsure what her proper title is), chanting hymns with a repetitive line in English (you only get Sanskrit on special occasions), silent meditation, short readings out of Kriyananda’s books -- one an affirmation and prayer, the other a short exposition which includes a quote from a gospel and one from the Gita, and a little sermon. Unlike the Baha’is, who say they don’t proselytize even while they are doing it, the Anandans really don’t. I’ve read that those in the Yogananda tradition feel that if you are meant to follow the Master, then you will -- otherwise you’re free to hang around while still following your own spiritual path. Nobody has tried to convert or convince me of anything.<br /> <br />Ananda is also far more accessible, at least locally, than the Baha’i Faith is. There are, or there were when I was a member, thirty Baha’is in Chico. If they’ve gone with the current Plan and established open devotional meetings, the only way to find that out would be to call -- either a stranger, or someone I might have met briefly years ago. Even setting aside my online reputation among Baha’is, that would be intimidating. They have no website; they have no center -- even in a place as large as Sacramento, if you want to worship with Baha’is, you’re going to someone’s house and you’ll have to call to get the schedule and directions. All I did to get to Ananda was find their website, follow Google maps’ driving directions, and simply show up one Sunday morning in late September. <br /><br /> Now, the downside: Like most Hindu-inspired Meditation Movements (HIMMs), Ananda is basically run by renunciates -- a kind of monasticism that is forbidden to Baha’is. They essentially make up a clerical class. Now, mostly this wouldn’t bother me -- I only see these folks when they come up from Ananda Village for the weekend. (The local community has a lay minister.) But it led to a very uncomfortable moment during the Purification Ceremony, which occurs before the Sunday service proper. On a normal Sunday, you write out a problem or issue on a slip of paper, then when it’s your turn, you come up at burn it in a candle flame, essentially handing it over to God. I really liked that little ritual, and I sometimes whisper a Baha’i prayer while I’m up there -- “Remover of Difficulties” or the healing prayer or some such. But when a swami is there, things get much more formalized, and I was shocked to see people coming up to this guy in blue robes, kneeling and asking for purification. It sort of freaked me out. In my mind, I was rushing back to Baha’u’llah asking “What do I do? What do I do?” In retrospect, I could have just quietly sat the whole thing out, and nobody would have said anything -- but I was unprepared for this, and that made me very anxious. What I ended up doing was sitting on a chair that was set aside for older people who have trouble kneeling, but I was dreadfully nervous and it all felt wrong. I didn’t realize I had such a anti-clerical bias -- never really thought about it until then. Now, this gentleman, when he took off the robes and was just wearing his civvies, was an affable fellow and nice to talk to -- it was nothing personal; it’s just that priestly role I found intimidating.<br /><br /> Another tiny issue is that the services, so deliberately patterned after Protestant worship, seem oddly old-fashioned in an era where mantra CDs are selling like hot cakes. In following Yogananda’s tradition, they are also adhering to a presentation that was quite understandable in the middle of the 20th century, but seems unnecessarily cautious now. But, obviously, it can’t be too off-putting, because, I do keep going. Here's one of their favorite chants, just to give a feel for the kind of thing they sing at these services:<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TQZ6QwCDOkE?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TQZ6QwCDOkE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /> The final downside is that, at least so far, I’m not hugely impressed by their books. It’s not like when I read Baha’u’llah, who just grabbed ahold of my heart and tossed it into heaven. Of course, I can’t claim that I have studied it any detail, but if I’m going to study Hinduism, I’d rather go to old sources like the Bhagavad-Gita or Upanishads. For such a famous book, I found “Autobiography of a Yogi” to be a disappointment, chock-full of improbable miracle stories -- which is too bad, I guess. To be fair, I might get a clearer picture of the teachings from other books, which I’ll probably read as I go along. These are nice people; I like the community, but I don’t think I share their beliefs -- at least not their distinctive ones. But then, nobody has really asked me to. And I can overlook a lot when people are kind enough to “Om” over me before I had surgery, and call to check on my recovery after.<br /><br />Anyway, who am I to be too critical? As early as 1937, Yogananda had initiated 150,000 people in this country -- a membership number the American Baha’i community has yet to achieve; and these groups are still growing, with full initiates being a minority among those who being served. Even though his movement broke apart, it has had a lot more influence on a lot more people’s lives than the Baha’i Faith could even dream of, and it certainly has rendered a service to me.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-38127271586379404622009-08-17T14:37:00.000-07:002009-08-17T14:42:02.637-07:00Deeds, Not Words?I happened to be reading Persian Hidden Words #5 today, which contains the much-quoted admonition "Let deeds, not words, be your adorning." It's clear why everyone, not matter what their take on the Baha'i Writings, has this one as a favorite. Of course, one should "walk the walk", rather than just "talk the talk".<br />There's really nothing to contextualize, puzzle out, discuss, or argue about.<br /><br />But what never seems to come up is just how difficult putting that simple practice is. The whole of one's spiritual life, at least the part of it that is involved in dealing with the world outside yourself, is contained in it. If we start asking ourselves, do we really act according to our ideals, do we put into practice the things we say we believe? -- if we are honest with ourselves, we will come up woefully short. Even more likely, we'll come up with reasons why, in that particular situation, we must act otherwise.<br /><br />For a concrete example: All of the world's great religions insist on generosity towards and compassion for the poor. Yet, most of us don't do much about that -- write a check once in a while, maybe. And, when actually confronted with a poor person, we don't feel compassion so much as a sense of unease, maybe even fear. I've always figured that the emphasis placed on this in scriptures is because the poor just aren't very attractive on their own -- to the eyes of the non-poor they often seem ignorant, unhygenic, and possibly even dangerous.<br /><br />So, what of our lofty ideals then? "Deeds, not words" just crumbles sometimes, without our even thinking about it.<br /><br />Nobody lives up to their ideals -- nobody. That's why, in email discussions, I was always would feel a bit uncomfortable if the word "hypocrite" got thrown around. On some level, all of us fit that description, because none of us act entirely according to what we believe. So, I never thought it made much sense to point fingers. Just about the only way not to be a hypocrite would be not to have ideals in the first place -- which would not be a good way to go.<br /><br />When I look at myself, I find that for me to act in a spiritual way in all my interactions with others, it leaves me feeling very vulnerable. When I do otherwise, a lot of times, it's because the situation or person makes me feel defensive. In order, to treat others with compassion, we have to drop our protective walls. But, I struggle with that, because in some cases those walls are necessary -- and it becomes a matter of whether or not the harm I fear is realistic or not., or whether the risk outweighs the spiritual imperative.<br /><br />When you think about it, a great deal of human evil boils down to unwarranted fear.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-75813116806368479892009-08-09T17:34:00.000-07:002009-08-09T17:52:32.170-07:00Ask: Does it help?It's been a long time since I've written anything in detail about my spiritual life, because I've been going through some changes. One of the obstacles that I'm confronting in trying to hang on to what is good in the Writings of Baha'u'llah and let go of the rest is that so much in the Faith is over-laden with emotional baggage for me. With the light comes the shadow, and the shadow is a damned distraction. Right now, all my friends are in a tizzy about <a href="http://reflectionsonteachingbahaifaith.blogspot.com/2009/08/reflections-on-ridvan-2009-message-talk.html">Peter Khan's latest pronouncement </a>-- something that at one time would have had me blogging in outrage and disgust. <br /><br />With all respect and affection to my online Baha'i friends, I've come to regard that stuff a waste of time. The administration of any religion is a worldly activity, and enmeshed in wordly considerations, and we were foolish to expect it to be any different. Either promoting or criticizing the latest plan from Haifa is irrelevant to anyone's spiritual growth -- which is the whole point of being religious in the first place. <br /><br />I was reading the first page of the Kitab-i-Iqan the other day -- that's the passage that sort of hit me square between the eyes when I was first investigating the Faith. Baha'u'llah there insists that all that is worldly, and the sayings of religious authorities need to be cast aside by the seeker -- and that seems to me as true now as the day I first read it.<br /><br />For me, the question "Do you believe that Baha'u'llah is the Manifestation of God for this Day?" had become rather like the question "Do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God?" A denial would be completely false, but an affirmation isn't right either, because these are, very simply, the wrong questions. In fact, don't ask me anything about belief, because I don't think belief is all that important. It's just an egoistic construct that, because of human weakness, we seem to need. "I belong to this; I am called by this name; we are really important." And notice, I said "we" -- I'm not immune; I understand it. But I also understand that this need caused me a great deal of heartache. And, in the end, that kind of identification just bolsters up the self.<br /><br />A better question would be "Do you love Baha'u'llah?", and there, I could give you an unqualified "Yes". Not a day goes by that I don't read his Writings; it's a part of my spiritual practice that I couldn't do without.<br /><br />But the question I ask myself most often is "Does it help me on the Path, or doesn't it?" And, if it doesn't help, I should be trying to detach myself from it.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-562239944205735182009-03-24T08:40:00.000-07:002009-03-24T08:41:25.190-07:00Ten Years of Being An Unenrolled Baha'iThis Naw-Ruz marked the tenth anniversary of my resignation from the Baha'i Faith, and although I've not been saying much online, I thought I shouldn't let such a significant anniversary pass without comment. As many people know, I left in a blaze of anger after discovering how the American NSA cracked down on the Baha'i magazine *dialogue* back in the mid-80s, but this was a last straw after many years of frustration in trying to make a Baha'i community work. I could maintain a sacrificial attitide as long as I believed the problems were essentially local, but when I found they ran top to bottom -- well, what more is there to sacrifice for?<br /><br />But I could not abandon Baha'u'llah. To this day, I recite His Writings, meditate on His name, perform His prayers, and count myself His follower.<br /><br />My experience, though, over the last decade has been a mixed bag -- as life usually is. I became very active on email forums, wrote articles, etc. partly as a much-needed emotional release, and partly as a means of making sense of what had happened to the Faith.<br /><br />Postive things about my leaving, and being in Baha'i cyberspace:<br /> - I was free to work out my issues in a way that I never could have done had I stayed. I'm really not that courageous, nor was I technically savvy enough, when I first came into cyberspace, to maintain anonymity. If I was still enrolled, I'd have been terrified of that phone call from the ABM with every email post. I simply couldn't have done it. I can be eloquent and passionate in writing, but I turn into a big stammering puddle of nerves in direct confrontation.<br /> - I learned so much! I got to associate with Baha'is more intelligent, knowledgeable, and creative than I ever knew existed. A whole new world opened up for me.<br /> -The online translations of the Writings. It was the Writings of Baha'u'llah that made me a Baha'i, and it was just wonderful to find these once-hidden treasures.<br /> - I'm a lot less frustrated now that I don't have to do all that administrative stuff, which so dominates Baha'i community life. I neither know nor care what year Plan it is.<br /> - I made some wonderful friends out there.<br /> - I felt freer to experiment with other religious ideas and practices -- something I had abandoned when I became a Baha'i.<br /> - I'm more firmly grounded in reality, with a more realistic sense of the Baha'i Faith's place in the world.<br /> - I like myself better, without that oppressive sense of constant failure -- I don't teach enough, I don't give enough to the Fund. I'm more concerned with the development of my own spiritual qualities e.g. whether or not I am behaving in a compassionate way. My sense of spirituality is broader, and not limited to the Baha'i mold.<br /> - I enjoyed expressing my own creativity; I like research, and writing, and never would have had the opportunity elsewhere.<br /><br />Negative things:<br /> - I came out into cyberspace, hurting and very naive. I got too swept into online politics, which at times warped my judgement. I tried very hard to be honest and fair, but I sometimes got carried away and did things I now regret.<br /> - I wish I'd never known how ugly Baha'is can get at even the mildest criticisms of their sacred cows.<br /> - I sometimes miss the people in my local community. For several years, I kept in contact, even going to Holy Day celebrations and other non-administrative events. But about five years after I left, one of the newer locals discovered my identity, named me a covenant-breaker and while my old friends don't shun me if I run into them around town, I'm not invited to any Baha'i events anymore. Baha'is, for the most part, are good people; it's the whole system that's really the problem.<br /> - Although I made some great friends online, there are some people out there that I wish I'd never met.<br /><br />Anyway, life goes on. I have less to say than I once did, but I'm still walking the Path like I always did -- and, God willing, always will.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-55799609063015182322008-11-13T07:22:00.000-08:002008-11-13T07:23:23.139-08:00Piercing HeavenSeveral years ago, in my meanderings through spiritual literature, I ran across the saying "A short prayer pierceth heaven." It kind of caught my attention, because sometimes I had a attitude of "If a little prayer is good, then a whole lot is better" -- which isn't necessarily the case. Thinking about it, mini-prayers are probably the most natural way to pray, which we do without thinking about it. If we hear of a friend of relative in the hospital we'll say -- either out loud or to ourselves -- "Oh, God, let them be all right." I don't know about other mothers, but a short one-sentence prayer asking God to look after one or the other of my children bubbles up naturally when circumstances warrent.<br /><br /> I've never been a big user of the Baha'i prayer book. I always say the obligatory prayers, and I have a few short, memorized favorites. The written prayers are beautiful and inspiring -- and I preferred them to the kind of extemporaneous prayer I grew up with, when I was in a group. A single person praying for a group always felt wrong to me, but Baha'i prayers belong to all of us. On my own, however, it was often difficult for me to find a prayer that says what I really want to say. And what I want to say is usually pretty simple and direct. Almost always, before I go to work, I say "Oh, God! Make me a good teacher today. Let me give the children what they need." Then, I'll add a couple of names of God, just like you find at the end of Baha'i written prayers.<br /><br /> That's not entirely a selfless prayer, by the way -- obviously, if I do well in my job it benefits me as well as the children I teach.<br /><br /> Lately, I've been thinking a lot about ways to develop compassion within myself -- a virtue that all of us could pay a bit more attention to. And there isn't a written prayer that specifically addresses that, so I just say "Oh God! Let me show compassion to everyone who crosses my path." It's simple, to the point, and what more do I need to say?<br /><br /> Maybe that's why such prayers pierce heaven -- they focus on what really matters.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-2012199827389837152008-11-01T10:32:00.000-07:002008-11-01T10:49:25.224-07:00Tony Lee on TahirihI know I've been quiet of late, but I ran across something too good not to share. This is an interview with Tony Lee about his translations in <i>Tahirih: A Portrait in Poetry</i>. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogtalkradio.com/onword/2008/10/16/Translated-By-Hosted-by-Shaindel-Beers-">Translated By, hosted by Shaindel Beers</a><br /><br />Besides discussing the translation process, he reads several of these wonderful poems aloud -- and reads them like a poet. Not everyone can read aloud like that. When I first read the book, I found the part about the translation interesting -- there was an example of the literal meaning of the Persian, which was transformed into the published poem in English. It really demonstrates just how much of an art form translation is.<br /><br />The book is available <a href="http://www.kalimat.com/Tah-Poetry.html"> here </a> from Kalimat Press. You can also get it on Amazon.<br /><br />Anyway, I hope you enjoy the interview, and do get the book as well. And God bless Tony and his colleagues for this marvelous work.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-54751149816723134212008-08-07T15:10:00.000-07:002008-08-07T15:11:59.565-07:00Restless SoulsI've just finished reading "Restless Souls: The Making of American Spirituality" by Leigh Eric Schmidt, and I thought it would be relevant for unenrolled Baha'is to know that independent spirituality is not just some fly-by-night thing that the Baby Boomers invented, but has a long history of its own, dating back to the 1830s. And, Baha'is are very much a part of that history.<br /><br />An entire chapter is devoted to telling the story of Sarah Farmer and Green Acre. She started it in 1894, right after the Parliament of World Religions, and it was an important meeting place for almost every unorthodox form of spirituality around at the time: Transcendentalists, Vedantists, Theosophists, Christian Scientists, New Thought, and the like. She wanted it to be dedicated to the ideal of peace between religions -- I noted on the Green Acre website that the green-letttered Peace Flag that Sarah flew over the original Greenacre still flies there. But there were tensions, and these tensions became even worse when Sarah herself became a Baha'i, and this chapter dwells on the problem of what happens when an independent seeker actually finds something. Poor Sarah got pressures from Baha'is (including 'Abdu'l-Baha') to make Green Acre a center for teaching the Baha'i Faith, her old associates thought she had betrayed the cause of religious liberalism by submitting herself to "the Persian Revelation". The strain of trying to juggle these competing interests took a great toll on her physical and mental health. But its an interesting read -- one of her best friends, Sara Bull, was among the first practitioners of yoga in this country. (I was pleasantly surprised to see that Green Acre's current schedule includes a yoga class.) Green Acre was not only an important landmark for Baha'is, but in the history of alternative religion in America.<br /><br />Moving further into the book, I was caught by Thomas Kelly's approach, since it seemed similar to my own;<br /><br /><i> Kelly, in effect, shifted away from the Trancendentalist emphasis on ephemeral moments of spiritual awareness --"the flickering of our psychic states" -- to sustained "inward practices of the mind." Not transient states of mystic consciousness, but continuous habits of daily devotion -- these were Kelly's chief pursuit: "Practice comes first in religion".</i><br /><br />This is, at least one answer, to those who criticize unaffiliated spirituality as essentially a lot of romantic slosh with no real substance. <br /><br />The book, in its last chapter, actually goes into some of those criticisms, particularly by conservative Christians. One thing that Schmidt points out is that there are some -- gays stand out particularly as one such group -- that don't fit very well into organized religion. I would also include those of a less social temperament. Certainly, introverts have a tough time in the Baha'i community -- and they probably do in other communities as well. The orthodox want these folks to either change themselves in order to fit into a community or to just forget about God. Well, too bad, because that doesn't happen -- Americans have been charting their own spiritual path for many generations now, and they will continue to do so. It's as old an American tradition as the revival meeting.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-73458886754891189062008-07-18T18:53:00.000-07:002008-07-18T19:09:39.222-07:00Unenrolled Baha'is and PilgrimageI ran across <a href="http://web.jrn.columbia.edu/studentwork/religion/2005/feature_jasonny.asp"> this article</a> titled "Uphill Pilgrimage: Unenrolled Baha'is face a long road to Haifa". It's on the site for the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. It's a bit old, written in 2005 -- and the source material is even older. For the information on me, Jason Anthony used my "leaving the faith" <a href="http://www.angelfire.com/ca3/bigquestions/Bahai.html"> story on my website.</a><br /><br />I still get comments on that, as if it were written yesterday, instead of nearly nine years ago. Jason also makes the common mistake of thinking I left because of local conditions -- I didn't actually, but I spent so much time in that essay complaining about them that a lot of people have that impression. I'd have put up with local conditions indefinitly, perhaps as an enrolled inactive Baha'i, if I hadn't come across the larger issues. I sometimes ask myself, though, what I would have done with those larger issues, if I had been very happy with my local community . . . Motives can sometimes be very complex, and reasons for an action can't always be boiled down to a single thing. Oftentimes the "reason" is more of a final straw, which obscures the whole story.<br /><br />The rest of the information appears to have been taken from Talisman posts, probably from 2000 or so, when I was still very emotional about the situation.<br /><br />Nevertheless, I think the article was fair and well done. It was nice to see an outsider's viewpoint on the position of unenrolled Baha'is.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-35976415157865986522008-07-06T16:50:00.000-07:002008-07-06T16:55:45.452-07:00The Limits of UniversalismIn "The Illuminated Prayer: The Five-Times Prayer of the Sufis" by Coleman Barks, a story is recounted of a child in the Sufi community asking Bawa Muhaiyadden what religion she was. He responded:<br /><br /><i>You are a Christian because you believe in Jesus, and you are a Jew because you believe in all the prophets, including Moses. You are a Muslim because you believe in Muhammad as a prophet, and you are a Sufi because you believe in the universal teaching of God's love. You are really none of those, but you are all of those, because you believe in God. And once you believe in God, there is no religion. Once you divide yourself off with religions, you are separated from your fellowman.</i><br /><br />Now, this has some resonance with me, and I would imagine with many Baha'is. After all, it is the teaching of the unity of religions that drew a lot of us into investigating the Faith in the first place. It felt very odd, once I became a Baha'i, to identify with a particular community, with its own particular expectations and culture. Like the new kid on the block, I did my best to fit in to all of that -- and the more "Baha'i" I became, invariably, I lost a good deal of that universalist outlook that had drawn me into the Faith in the first place. I have recovered some of it since leaving -- though, not all. I still have a distinct Baha'i identity; I still believe in Baha'u'llah.<br /><br />And truthfully, Bawa and his followers have a distict identity as well. This book, which teaches in a non-dogmatic way, the prayer "of the Sufis" is actually teaching the Muslim <i>salat</i>, presenting it as a universal prayer. No matter how broad-minded and inclusive his community attempts to be, it remains Muslim in its essence, although I suspect they'd fit in with traditional Muslims about as well as I do in the Baha'i community.<br /><br />It seems part of human nature to need a certain identity. I'm not entirely sure that anyone can follow a spiritual path without becoming attached to one more than another, no matter how inclusive you try to be. And, naturally, when you choose one, you have the feeling that it is somehow more "right" than the others, which don't suit you as well. But Bawa was correct in saying that it does cut you off from others to some extent. I don't feel comfortable showing up for Sunday Services at any of the local churches, although I know there are folks there who would do their best to make me welcome. There's just that little hitch of believing in Baha'u'llah, which means I just don't belong in a Christian church, no matter how liberal. There are New Age groups around, too, but I don't quite fit in there, either -- again, believing in Baha'u'llah makes me a Baha'i, and I can't really pretend to be anything else. <br /><br />Going it alone, though, really isn't so bad. After all, it's what I did before I became a Baha'i. And, with the online community, there are many of us who are "going it alone", together. That sense of a community of solitaries is what I've been trying, with some success, to build out here. And it works. It's hard, but it works.<br /><br />I find it interesting, though, how spiritual practices appear to be the most "separable" aspect of religion -- in some cases they are virtually idenitcal anyway. The practice of saying a mantra is pretty much like Sufi dhikr, which in turn is much like saying a Rosary or repeating the Jesus prayer -- you're just using different sacred words. Barks, in writing this book, clearly sees prayer as prayer -- usable by anyone no matter what creed is professed. I had to suppress a chuckle recently, when a yoga teacher told me that saying "OM" was just for the cleansing vibrations and had nothing to do with religion. Yoga is a path within Hinduism -- it's religious through and through. The Hatha Yoga Westerners practice to reduce stress or get into shape was originally inextricable from religious meditation. Of course, an act is religious only if you intend it so -- but I don't believe for a minute that the ancient yogis taught their disciples to chant "OM" so they could get rid of their toxins and improve their health. But then, unlike some, I don't have a problem with it being religious.<br /><br />To continue: Religious identity can be a complex thing: There are spiritual practices, which, as I said, can be separated from the whole and performed by anyone who finds them meaningful. There are belief systems, which those of us coming from a Christian background tend to regard as the whole of what we mean by "religion", and which is generally the most exclusive aspect. (I doubt if the majority of adherents in any major religion actually have beliefs which entirely match those of religious authorities; folks beliefs are extremely persistent.) There are traditions -- holy days, rites of passage, and the like -- which people can be sentimentally attached to long after they leave behind the religious beliefs and/or community they were raised in. And finally, there are communities, where the formalities of membership apply -- although some religions are more formal about that than others. It is probably possible for a person to be a different "religion" in each of these four aspects. Certainly, it's not uncommon to find someone who is split between two, usually the religion they were brought up in, and the religion of their choosing. There are times I think that multiple religious identity may be the wave of future -- along with the "spiritual, but not religious" crowd -- but only time will tell.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-60043918779984162922008-06-23T14:51:00.000-07:002008-06-23T18:26:23.204-07:00Spirituality vs. ReligionThe other day, on one of the lists I subscribe to, one of the posters said something to the effect that he was bothered by the term "spirituality". It seemed be a word without much meaning, particular for those who go about claiming that they are "spiritual, but not religious". This isn't the first time I've heard this. A friend of mine who is an evangelical Christian once said the same thing to me, when I used the term "spirituality"; he said "I don't know what that means". At the time, I was kind of taken aback and didn't quite know what to say -- only confirming, I suppose, his belief that "spirituality" is a term without meaning. I know what he *thinks* it means: A way for folks to have the comfort of believing in God without the nuisance of dealing with all the "Thou shalt nots" and inconvenient issues like sin. Cherry-picking beliefs so you take what you like and leave what you don't. A shallow belief-system that's just a little too easy. And, so on.<br /> <br />Then, on the other hand, there's religion. Archaic rules that don't make sense in today's world. Bigotry and intolerance cloaked as the Will of God. Narrow-minded people who follow their leaders like sheep; leaders who are control-freaks intent on preserving their own power. Obsessive conern with obscure theological issues that divide the pure from the heretical, etc, etc. Certainly, these battle lines are familiar to everybody who has any interest at all in religion and/or spirituality; it most certainly is not limited to the online "Baha'i Wars". What you've got basically is two world-views talking past each other. What is meaningless to one is absolutely essential to the other. <br /><br />I'm always very reluctant to label anything in the realm of religion "meaningless", especially if we're talking about spiritual experience. Quite obviously, the practice, or belief, or whatever must have meaning to somebody or it wouldn't continue to exist. There are some religious perspectives that absolutely leave me flat -- I can't fathom why anybody would get into it, however tolerant and understanding I might try to be. Generally, all I'm left with is a polite incomprehension. (The polite part meaning that I'm not going to name any of these perspectives here.) Fundamentalism, on the other hand, I understand; I just think it's spiritually harmful. Fundamentalism focuses a person on his/her own rightness, and causes an obsession about what others are doing wrong. It's all about controlling others, rather than developing one's own relationship with God. Despite appearances, fundamentalism is not strong faith -- it's got cracks all over it, which requires the believer to anxiously try to "seal" them up i.e. defend their faith from "wrong" views.<br /><br /> The critics of "spirituality" actually do have a point. Very often, people who are "spiritual, but not religious" do miss the richness and depth of centuries-old traditions. There's plenty of spirituality in religion, if a person cares to dig; it's just that sometimes folks don't know that there's treasure underneath all the seemingly irrelevant and restrictive aspects that turn people off at first glance.<br /><br />I define spirituality as the interior journey one engages in through spiritual practice. Anybody who's followed me around must be aware that I'm fascinated by spiritual practices: prayer, meditation, and discipline in all its various forms. That's not "fluff"; that's hard work. Work that does not center around who controls and who needs to be controlled or what belief is correct or not. <br /><br />Take a look at Baha'u'llah's Tablet of the True Seeker (Kitab-i-Iqan p.192-196). When Baha'u'llah speaks of the spiritual journey, he emphasizes two things: The seeker must become detached from the world, and he must develop spiritual qualities. The things one does to achieve those two things is pretty much what "spirituality" is.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-18472609378317430542008-05-01T08:26:00.000-07:002008-05-01T12:15:14.855-07:00Intone My Servant -- The City of ImmortalityI have spent the last month reading <i> Gems of the Mysteries</i>, and am close to the end. This morning's reading was from "The City of Immortality": In this instance, I actually prefer the official translation:<br /><br /><i>Having, in this journey, immersed himself in the ocean of immortality, rid his heart from attachment to aught save Him, and attained unro the loftiest heights of everlasting life, the seeker will see no annihilation either for himself or for any other soul. He will quaff from the cup of immortality, tread in its land, soar in its atmosphere, consort with them that are its embodiments, partake of the imperishable and incorruptible fruits of the tree of eternity, and be forever accounted, in the lofty heights of immortality, amongst the deniszens of the everlasting realm.</i><br /><br />Now, I am intimately familiar with the Valley(or Garden) of Search, acquainted with the Valley(or City) of Love, and have gotten a few scattered glimpses of the Valley of Knowledge (which doesn't appear in "Gems"), but when you get towards these upper stations, Baha'u'llah is talking beyond my experience -- and, I suspect, beyond the experience of virtually everyone else who reads these passages. 'Abdu'l-Baha' says somewhere that those who recognize the Manifestation have already traversed all seven valleys, but the slightest trace of self brings us back to the beginning -- and which of us is free from "the slightest trace of self"?<br /><br />What Baha'u'llah describes here is an enticing vision of what our goal is -- this almost reads like a description of the afterlife, rather than anything attainable in this one. But, I've just seen further down the page:<br /><br /><i>Know, moreover, that should one who hath attained unto these stations and embarked upon these journeys fall prey to pride and vainglory, he would at that very moment come to naught and return to the first step without realizing it.</i><br /><br />Just what 'Abdu'l-Baha' said -- and the greatest temptation for any seeker, indeed for any religious person at all, is to take pride in what they've accomplished in their path. Who among us passes that test? Who among us doesn't think "Well, I've done really well at that, unlike those other guys who are really messing up big time"? We all like to think well of ourselves -- and then, we're back to pride. It's like tattle-taling at school -- the reason second-graders are such big tattle-tales is because they want attention for being good; they want Teacher to know that this other kid is being bad, which makes the tattler feel good by comparison. Children also take pride in knowing the "right" way to do things, which by second-grade they've gained some confidence in. Adults aren't so different; we're just more subtle about it.<br /><br />Another interesting verse, down the page a bit: <i>For were they to reach the ultimate object of their quest for God and their attainment unto Him, they would have but reached that abode which hath been raised up in their own hearts.</i><br /><br />This journey is entirely internal, what we end up getting to know is the reflection of God in our own hearts -- God Himself being entirely unknowable and inaccessible. If we don't know God within ourselves, where else can we know Him?Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-83012675511635764272008-04-27T10:36:00.000-07:002008-04-27T11:04:51.963-07:00White Knuckles and TransformationI recently read of someone who said of the spiritual path "I keep falling off the steed in the Valley of Search". O.K. kids, pop quiz: What is the name of that steed? <br /><br />Almost everyone has had the experience of trying to quit a bad habit -- smoking, drinking and the like -- or trying to lose weight. We begin with a great burst of enthusiasm, but eventually stress overwhelms us into what I call the "Aw, the hell with it" moment when we backslide, and then we feel really bad about ourselves, and that low feeling saps our energy even further, to the point where we just don't have the gumption to begin again. For a loooong time.<br /><br />Years ago, I went to a training session for teacher's aides that was discussing addiction, and they said it was quite possible for an addict or alcoholic to "white knuckle" it for a period of time, but more than will power is needed for long-term success -- they need to understand their addiction, its roots, the stressors that trigger it, etc.<br /><br />In spiritual transformation, we aren't giving up a pleasure, we are seeking one -- we want to feel the presence of God in our lives. We are seeking paradise, as it were. But it's not easy -- if one message comes through loud and clear through the scriptures of the world is that the spiritual path is not easy. ("Narrow is the way, and strait the gate.") Except for the times when it is. ("My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.') Baha'u'llah says the same thing -- on the one hand he'll tell us that without effort we have attained the goal while those pious folks who have spent their whole lives searching have missed out, then on the other tell us a true believer is non-existent and lay out conditions for a true seeker that only a bona fide saint could live up to.<br /><br />Trying to live up to the conditions demanded of us by our faith can bring us to a point of despair. If I remember my religious history, that's part of the reason Luther tossed out the notion that human effort had anything to do with salvation, and came up with his "faith alone" (sola fide) doctrine. That is, he was white-knuckling his spiritual life.<br /><br />I don't think we can get very far with a grim determination to do "better" -- certainly not to be perfect. I think part of spiritual development is the ability to look honestly at our weaknesses, trying to understand the causes, and at times, admitting to ourselves that we aren't really all that ready to do anything about them. Admitting that we need God's help.<br /><br />What I think is important is consistency and commitment. We need to have some "God time" every day. I don't think it matters especially what particular technique is used -- and there are a myriad ways of prayer and meditation to choose from. And whatever we choose, there are going to be days when we are rushed and forget, or we just plain aren't "into" it. (I find prayer is better than meditation on those days.) But we keep plugging away at it anyway. I'm a spiritual plodder -- I do it even on days when I don't think it's doing any good. Sometimes, my commitment to the quest is all I have to offer -- or one might even use the term "obedience". I'm there saying my noonday prayer because Baha'u'llah says to do it, which is one reason I can dredge up even if I can't think of any other reason.<br /><br />So, why do it if you aren't feeling spiritual and maybe you aren't all that sure what you believe anyway? You're waiting. Big, dramatic, on-the-road-to-Damascus moments are few and far between. You wait for God. That's what my "God time" is; I'm just there waiting, faithful to the idea that if I keep showing up, so will He, eventually.<br /><br />And I have found that, slowly, subtlely, changes begin to happen. Those "not into it" days are fewer, you start getting a handle on your weaknesses, days when you are doing better. Not a complete turnaround, just a little better -- then, a little better, then a slip, then back on track, and so on. Help comes to you eventually, and it really becomes easy, and something you wouldn't want to be without. Baha'u'llah tells us that even if the seeker should continue for a hundred thousand years and still find no trace, he shouldn't be discouraged. This isn't an achievement, trying to get a certain result or reward. It's waiting.<br /><br />The steed of the Valley of Search is Patience.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9JDTAqsMNEM"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9JDTAqsMNEM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-11323794518425235112008-04-20T17:50:00.000-07:002008-04-20T18:02:22.511-07:00Happy Ridvan!Ridvan has always been a special holy day for me -- although once it was kind of bogged down by elections. Nevertheless, the story of Ridvan has, for me, a kind of mythic quality -- something that transcends actual historical events. There are a lot of memories associated with it:<br /><br />*The song a dear friend wrote about it, that when you listen to it, you could practically see Baha'u'llah strolling the streets of Baghdad. "Beside the Tigris River, before the daystar rose . . ."<br /><br />*The friend, now inactive, who declared on this day -- twenty years ago now, I guess. His favorite verse was "The beginning of all things is the knowledge of God . . ."<br /><br />*How, on the ninth day, our community would have a storytime, each of us telling a story from one of the great world religions.<br /><br />*In 1992, my daughter was born just hours before Ridvan, about 3:00 on the 20th.<br /><br />*When I had the money, I would bring roses in honor of the day.<br /><br />*Juan's article about how Ridvan is really a peace festival.<br /><br /><i>Rejoice with exceeding gladness, O People of Baha, as ye call to remembrance the Day of supreme felicity . . .</i>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-21628427143514250412008-04-19T20:14:00.000-07:002008-04-20T17:50:11.518-07:00Looking In, Looking OutOver on <a href="http://correlating.blogspot.com">Correlating</a> there's a very interesting <a href="http://correlating.blogspot.com/2008/04/some-thoughts-on-asceticism-or.html">article</a>about the Baha'i prohibition of asceticism.<br /><br /><i>Baha’u’llah tells us repeatedly not to follow the past in blind imitation, and to break off the shackles of learned knowledge. Doing that, being able to stand in a position where you can accurately see what parts of your beliefs match the Divine Word and what parts are culturally inherited it much more difficult than it might appear.Sociology would never frame the issue that way, as cultural versus Divine understanding, but the issue is ultimately the same – we see the world through our culture and that presents a dilemma. To describe the world we need language and concepts, categories and vocabulary, all of which are culturally derived. The very tools we have, in other words, to distance ourselves from our cultural understanding are the essence of that culture itself. Our culture is a web we can never fully untangle ourselves from. </i><br /><br />I agree with this, and go even farther: Revelation itself comes to us filtered through a particular cultural lens. The Manifestation is human -- he speaks a particular language and lives in a particular time and place. If he wasn't, human beings would find him incomprehensible. There is no such thing as a "divine understanding" in this world -- everyone is going to view the revelation through a particular lens, bounded by their own culture, language, and experience.<br /><br />However, the references in the Writings to "blind imitation" aren't really talking about "the past" in general, but mean the Shi'ih practice of <i>taqlid</i>, which is where a person chooses a particular cleric to follow, accepting his rulings on Islamic law without question. It is my understanding that, likewise, the knowledge that is condemned in the Writings is the result of clerical training, which can put a lot of weight into minutiae and tradition. It's a bit like Jesus condemning the Pharisees -- Baha'u'llah is warning against the excesses of religious specialists. <br /><br />What David says about only having cultural tools to free ourselves from the culture we are in is interesting. I'd say that even whether or not we think it's a good idea to transcend our own culture is, to some extent, culturally bound. There's a lot of self-critique in the West, where anything and anyone is fair game for a challenge; I'm not that sure that's true of other places in the world. It would be a fascinating thing to look at -- how other cultures critique themselves, or even if they do. <br /><br />I found this very interesting:<br /><br /><i>Knowing God, we are told by Baha’u’llah, comes about by acquiring God’s attributes – that is, we know and worship God by becoming more just, more compassionate, more merciful and so on. What I see as important here is that all of God’s attributes only have meaning in relation to other people. That is, there is no sensible way for me to talk about my striving to be more just that is decontextualized from concrete interaction with other people. Simply, God’s attributes only have meaning if they are attributes toward something. We say God is just because He is just toward us. Similarly we cannot speak of ourselves striving to be more just without grounding it in actual interactions, actual targets toward which we aim to behave more justly. How much we are being just or compassionate or any other attribute is understood and measured only in relation to our actions toward other people. On this level the ban on asceticism is straightforward – we cannot acquire attributes without other people because we need other people to be acting towards. The Guardian tells us that the center of religion is the individual’s mystic relationship with God, but even prayer and meditation center on the acquisition of God’s attributes. In solitude we pray to God for strength to become more merciful and we mediate, taking ourselves to account, for how merciful we have actually been. </i><br /><br />The world's great mystics are known to us because they did, at some point, come out of the cloister and interact with others -- or even interacted with others within the cloister, which, after all, is a community. A person needs the solitude to reflect, to gain the perspective and detachment necessary to develop spiritually, but David's essential insight -- that divine qualities mean nothing outside of relationship -- is correct. We learn, both by experiences with others, and during the quiet contemplation of how those experiences have affected us.<br /><br />Sen McGlinn has often discussed the duality theme found in the Baha'i Writings, particularly as reflected in the institutional structure, but I've always meant to write something up on how this duality reflects this looking inward(spirituality and worship) and looking outward(service and action). Maybe someday.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-18965408366733065832008-04-10T09:46:00.000-07:002008-04-10T09:55:17.580-07:00Karen Armstrong on CompassionThis speaks to one of those universal values where the Baha'i teaching on the unity of religion seems like a self-evident truth. Armstrong, both in this talk, and in her book <i>The Great Transformation</i> says that the founders of these religions were not so much concerned about belief (which is what we assume religion is about), but about putting their teachings into practice i.e., the way you really understand truth is not by an intellectual assent, but by the insight you gain by such practice.<br /><br />I tried to embed this, but the long, complex code wasn't accepted by Blogger, and I'm not techie enough to fix it.<br /><br />So, here's the page:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/234">A Charter for Compassion</a>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-52394262966396222882008-04-02T08:00:00.000-07:002008-04-02T15:54:30.245-07:00Remover of DifficultiesWhen I was talking to <a href="http://kimberlywinston.wordpress.com">Kimberly Winston</a> the other day about Baha'i prayer beads, I happened to mention "Remover of Difficulties" as one of the verses that could be said with the prayer beads, and that reminded me of the importance of this prayer in my own life.<br /><br />That wasn't always the case. It was one of the very first Baha'i prayers I ever saw -- it was on a teaching pamphlet, along with the Noonday prayer, and it struck me as rather odd. For one thing, it didn't seem like a prayer at all, since it didn't address God. Of course, before becoming a Baha'i, the very notion of having written prayers that are read or recited was kind of alien to me, and took a little getting used to.<br /><br />Even as an enrolled Baha'i, it wasn't one of my favorites -- I rather preferred the Bab's "God sufficeth" prayer, although like all Baha'is I memorized "Remover of Difficulties" and would recite it during times of trouble.<br /><br />Many years later, after I was unenrolled, I came across Denis MacEoin's <i>Rituals in Babism and Baha'ism</i>, where it talked about how this prayer, although there are no ritual instructions that accompany it, is used as Baha'is in a ritual manner -- we perform a "round", or we repeat it a specified number of times. MacEoin called this "an interesting example of popular ritual observance within a movement devoted to the principle of accepting only authoritative prescriptions in respect to devotional practice.'[p.45] I found that quite appealing -- here was a spiritual practice that was not laid down by any law, or approved of by any authority, but that naturally bubbled up from the grassroots. This is something that came from Baha'i hearts, not from any sense of obligation, but from their devotion to Baha'u'llah.<br /><br />The practice stems from a story on p. 119 of <i>God Passes By</i>, describing Baha'u'llah's anger and disappointment with the Babi community in Baghdad, just before he left it to live as a solitary hermit in Sulaymaniyyih. He said to "bid them recite" the Remover of Difficulties verse "five hundred times, nay, a thousand times, by day and by night, sleeping and waking, that haply the Countenance of Glory may be unveiled to their eyes, and tiers of light descend upon them." Baha'u'llah recited this verse himself, as well.<br /><br />This story struck me in a couple of ways: First, I identified with Baha'u'llah's feelings of sadness over the state of the community. After all I'd been through, I found comfort in the reminder that Baha'u'llah, too, had his moment of despair over the direction his religion was going. Secondly, I realized that the verse was not simply for hard times, or when you're feeling down, but for spiritual enlightenment. Finally, the way spiritual practice arose from a story reminded me of the Jesus Prayer, which evolved from the tax collector's prayer in Luke 18, and became one of the most common prayers repeated in Christian meditation.<br /><br />I've felt myself more drawn to this verse for meditation ever since.<br /><br /><i> Is there any Remover of Difficulties save God? Say: Praised be God! He is God! All are His servants and all abide by His bidding.</i>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-91909435348595074882008-03-31T13:43:00.000-07:002008-03-31T13:48:49.245-07:00The Inactive-Unenrolled ConnectionIt always drives me a bit nuts when someone says "99.9% of Baha'is believe X" or, even worse, "Six million Baha'is believe Y". These phrases used to come up a lot in debate, and my response is that one cannot make definitive statements like that when half (or more) of enrolled Baha'is are inactive in the Baha'i community. If you don't even have a current address, then you really don't know anything about what they think or believe -- and studies necessarily tend to overlook these folks. They are invisible and forgotten.<br /><br />But one place where inactive Baha'is do become visible is in cyberspace; there are a lot of inactive Baha'is in the liberal online community. My statistics are incomplete, I'm afraid, since I don't insist that listmembers disclose their status, but my best estimate is that between 25-30% of the Unenrolled Baha'i email group subscribers are enrolled, but inactive, Baha'is. After all, inactive Baha'is have a lot in common with unenrolleds who have resigned from the Faith -- namely a belief in Baha'u'llah combined with disappointment with current conditions in the administrative community. <br /><br />Now, I realize that this seems a bit on the negative side, on a blog where I said I was going to try to stay positive. But the outcome *is* positive. Inactive folks who haven't had anything to do with the Baha'i community for years, sometimes decades, find a place with us. We have no assemblies, no boring business meetings, none of the stresses that drove people away to begin with. Nobody's checking cards at the door. We offer support and understanding; sometimes, even deepening and mashriq. (I keep working and hoping for more of the latter.)<br /><br />Now, obviously, there are some things missing. It isn't easy, creating community for unenrolled Baha'is -- and I definitely don't want to create a falsely rose-colored picture. But then it isn't easy getting an enrolled community off the ground, either -- I know, I've been there. It's strange, for all the put-downs about how insignificant the numbers of unenrolled Baha'is, I really feel like my community is bigger out here. I definitely have more Baha'i friends than I had when I was enrolled. For someone like me, who was isolated in a tiny, struggling real-life administrative community, the Internet community gave me wings.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-7357341588911561672008-03-31T11:47:00.000-07:002008-03-31T11:55:28.993-07:00Inspirational VideoI ran across this while cruising through the blogosphere. It's from Columbian singer <a href="http://www.leonordely.com">Leonor Dely</a>. Every once in while the idea comes up of doing an online mashriq -- I've even had a couple on my <a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/unenrolledbahai">Unenrolled Baha'i</a> list, although they tend to be hard to pull together. Something like this video would be great for an online devotional.<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jh91B2d4Mjo&hl=en"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jh91B2d4Mjo&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-56308560588302671732008-03-28T11:28:00.000-07:002008-03-28T11:59:51.953-07:00Prayers and Prayer BeadsKimberly Winston has a <a href="http://kimberlywinston.wordpress.com">website </a>, and has written a book about prayer beads in the various religions. Her blog has a great deal about Catholic beads, but presumably she's planning on talking about the use of beads in other world religions -- and it seems like virtually all of them have some sort of prayer/meditation practice that uses beads. But she's starting with <a href="http://http://kimberlywinston.wordpress.com/2008/03/27/bahai-prayer-beads/">Baha'i prayer beads.</a><br /><br />Besides the requirement in the Aqdas to recite "Allah'u'abha" 95 times, prayer beads can be used for a variety of repetitive meditations, to suit the devotee. There's the "Remover of difficulties", which Baha'u'llah has been reported to have told the friends to recite 500 times, or even more. There's the Quran verse 65:2-3, which Alison talked about on her <a href="http://meditationsonbahaullah.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-works.html">blog</a>. For a while the verse from the Kitab-i-Ahd: "Say: All things are of God" was popular among the cyberspace community. I have also, at time, borrowed from Muslim or Christian practice.<br /><br />I got my prayer beads from <a href="www.bahairesources.com">Special Ideas</a>. They are blue sodalite, which is one of the minerals composing lapis lazuli. According to folks who believe in the mystical properties of semiprecious stones, sodalite is supposed to represent "truth" -- an idea which I rather like to be reminded of as I pick my beads up.<br /><br />All that being said, I actually prefer meditation without using prayer beads -- a kind of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centering_prayer">centering prayer </a>focusing on Baha'u'llah. But He has left us with a great deal of latitude in our devotional lives; there's lots of room for experimentation.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-20791427594605454132008-03-27T09:41:00.001-07:002008-03-27T10:17:57.045-07:00Intone My Servant - Gems of the MysteriesI've been meaning to do some looking at the Baha'i Writings here on Unenrolled Baha'i -- this is, after all, a religious blog, and a look at scripture now and then seems appropriate.<br /><br />But I know myself well enough to know that if I have to pick a topic, and several quotes from different tablets, and put it all together in a logical essay, I'll never get around to it. Oh, I can do it alright -- it's just that my online writing tends to be spontaneous, and my disk drive is littered with would-be projects like that.<br /><br />So, what I decided to do, in keeping with that spontaneous spirit, is about once a month or so, take whatever passage I read during my morning or evening devotions and talk about it a little bit. And, I'd call it "Intone My Servant", as kind of a column within the blog, because it comes straight from my devotional reading, rather than any intellectual point I'm trying to make.<br /><br />I was planning on doing this around the first of the month, but as it happened, I was reading this today, from the <i>Gems of the Mysteries</i>, speaking on the Garden of Search:<br /><br /><i>In this journey, it is incumbent on the seeker to sever himself from all besides God, and to close his eyes to all who are in the heavens and upon the earth. His heart should contain neither hate towards any creature nor love for anyone, such as might prevent him from attaining the sanctuary of beauty.</i><br /><br />That's from Juan Cole's translation, which I prefer. In case readers are using the official version:<br /><br /><i>In this journey, it behoveth the wayfarer to detach himself from all save God and to close his eyes to all that is in the heavens and on the earth. There must not linger in his heart either the hate or love of any soul, to the extent they would hinder him from attaining the habitation of the celestial beauty.</i>[Gems of Divine Mysteries p.27]<br /><br />This tablet sometimes reads like a combination of <i>Seven Valleys</i> and the <i>Kitab-i-Iqan</i>; it was written close to the same time, and covers the same themes. This instruction for travelling through the Valley of Search sounds much like what Baha'u'llah tells us in the Tablet of the True Seeker:<br /><br /><i>He must so cleanse his heart that no remnant of either love nor hate may linger therein, lest that love blindly incline him to error, or that hate repel him away from the truth.</i><br /><br />This particular passage is associated with a happy memory. When I was a brand-new believer, I did a deepening on this theme, trying to answer the question of what kind of love would "blindly incline" us to "error". Oh, it was a big deal, and I took the group through the Bible (some Baha'is had never read Corinthians 13!), and the Upanishads, among other things. I know these good folks were wondering just what kind of fish they'd caught. It was the unity of religion, more than anything else that had led me to the Faith, and I think I was rather more enthusiastic about the concept than my audience.<br /><br />But, the funny thing is, I don't remember where that search-oriented deepening took us i.e. what the answer was. And, I think, as in so many spiritual matters, the Answer (with a capital A) is not static; I think we always need to be asking ourselves if our love for something or someone is distracting us from God.<br /><br />For those who approach sainthood (which doesn't include your humble blogger here), the love of God should so permeate us that we love all for His sake. Once Rabi'a was asked if she hated Satan, and she said that she was too busy with the love of God to bother about hating Satan. That's an ideal, and like all ideals it is probably literally unattainable, but we keep trying anyhow.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-8462164632999316532008-03-26T17:34:00.000-07:002008-03-26T17:46:17.082-07:00Godblogger Talks About Beating a Different Baha'i DrumUmm Yasmin, over on <a href="http://godblogger.org/2008/03/26/god-inspired-organisations-versus-god-inspired-individuals/#more-158">Godblogger</a> is an ex-Baha'i Muslim, but she has shared an article she wrote when she was a Baha'i, based on Scott Peck's idea about community, that I thought was worth reading. <br /><br /><a href="http://godblogger.org/2008/03/26/god-inspired-organisations-versus-god-inspired-individuals/#more-158">God-inspired Organizations vs. God-inspired Individuals</a>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-84506343266532262222008-03-25T06:33:00.000-07:002008-03-25T10:36:46.239-07:00Unenrolled MiscellanyThere are a couple of discussions going on about unenrolled Baha'i identity: One is on <a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/talisman9">talisman9</a>, where proofs of the growth of unenrolleds are being discussed. (You have to join to read it.) The other is Steve Marshall's blog article<a href="http://ncag.org.nz/blog/#tcb-2008-03-25-05-00-09"> "No Assembly Required".</a> Properly speaking, Steve is an inactive Baha'i, but he shares some of the same perspectives and motivations that ex-members have -- and, of course, his wife Alison is unenrolled, forcibly taken off the rolls by order of the House. (On second thought, "inactive" seems an inadequate description of the editor of <a href="http://www.bahaisonline.net">Baha'is Online.</a> We need a better word for an enrolled Baha'i that doesn't partipate in administrative matters, but is very involved with the Faith otherwise.)<br /><br />I'm extremely shy of estimating numbers of unenrolled Baha'is -- I think that being unenrolled, to some extent, means getting away from the obsession with statistics that characterize the administrative Faith. However, I read one Baha'i scholar, who once worked at the National center, estimate the number of unenrolleds as around 10,000 in the U.S. -- and this included people who had a dual religious identity. He said that polls he participated in turned up Baha'is that National never heard of i.e. people who identified themselves as Baha'i but had never registered. But that number is still just an educated guess -- that's probably all we'll ever have.<br /><br />What I see happening is that the *idea* of being an unenrolled Baha'i is growing -- people that at one time would have thought of themselves as ex-Baha'is who still retained an appreciation for Baha'i ideals are realizing that being off the membership rolls does not have to mean an abandonment of religious identity. Likewise, there are enrolled Baha'is who accept unenrolleds as fellow believers. <br /><br />Sen McGlinn argues that this is a positive development in the religion -- that it marks an emergence from a sect-like structure. Think of any "cult" group you can name, and there is no distinction at all between membership and adherence, whereas one can run into Christians, Muslims, or Buddhists who do not belong to any formal organization. That is, having unattached adherents is a sign of maturity in a religion, not a sign of growing opposition, as it is sometimes described.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657047121415401044.post-48522722258801275222008-03-24T09:01:00.000-07:002008-03-24T09:05:29.552-07:00Unenrolled Baha'is and World Order<i>Question: Do you see yourself as a part of building the World Order of Baha'u'llah?</i><br /><br />This is a very good question -- one which required me to do some thinking about the answer, which is "Yes". There is a tendency among Baha'is (not excepting myself) to identify the World Order of Baha'u'llah with the Administrative Order, but that's not really the case. There is more to the Baha'i religion than its administration, and more to the World Order of Baha'u'llah than just Baha'is. I see the World Order as having both the institutions of the Baha'i Faith, and non-Baha'i institutions -- in which Baha'is might participate, but they don't administer.<br /><br />Then, looking at simply the Baha'i Faith, there are the administrative institutions, where membership and voting rights decide who participates, and the mashriq'u'l-adhkar and its auxiliary institutions, where being an enrolled Baha'i with voting rights doesn't matter. For the last couple of generations, the building of the administrative institutions has been the main focus -- to the point that the institutions for worship and service have sometimes been overlooked. (The recent creation of devotional meetings has been a wonderful reversal to this trend.) <br /><br />There is a quote from 'Abdu'l-Baha' where he says that the heart of the believer is the mashriq'u'l-adhkar -- so it's a mistake to think of it simply as the physical House of Worship. The devotional groups many Baha'i communities have started since "core activities" became the rage are building the mashriq'u'l-adhkar. So are any unofficial Baha'i prayer groups. The mashriq is a worship community, and one's status as a voter in the administrative order doesn't matter there -- yet, the mashriq is a Baha'i institution. Unenrolled Baha'is are able to participate, both in local Baha'i communities, or in devotional groups they create, or singly -- worshipping God in the temple of the heart.<br /><br />The same is true of the "service" part of the mashriq, which 'Abdu'l-Baha' said was essential. When your actions serve mankind, are you not building the World Order of Baha'u'llah? What is the difference if you feed the hungry at the direction of the LSA or you feed the hungry at a non-Baha'i soup kitchen? The hungry get fed through your service, either way -- and isn't the elimination of poverty so dire people lack food one of the aspects of the World Order? Did 'Abdu'l-Baha' wait for direction from an institution before he helped the poor? Yet, you cannot say he wasn't serving the goals of Baha'u'llah by doing that.<br /><br />And finally, I don't believe in having too much emphasis on what the Baha'i future will look like -- all of our predictions will be wrong to some extent. We know what the goals are -- peace, race unity, religious tolerance, education, elimination of extreme poverty, equality of the sexes, etc. As far as I'm concerned, any activity that furthers those goals serves the World Order of Baha'u'llah.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15915968995957299554noreply@blogger.com2