The final Fall

When there are no clouds, you can see with sudden clarity. 

The brilliance of the autumn leaves,

the rusty reds, glowing oranges take your breath away.

Fills your heart with awe

at all this abundance of beauty. 

How does the dying of some small appendage

of a tree deserve to be dressed in such finery? 

Perhaps we too, as we approach the end

should summon up acts and deeds 

that shimmer and take the breath of others with their radiance? 

For us all, the final fall is coming.

"The betterment of the world can be accomplished through pure and goodly deeds and through commendable and seemly conduct."

Baha'i Writings

Doer of good

Dear Friend (you know who you are!), 

Doer of good remorselessly. 

Placing wreaths on old graves. 

Remembering lost ones over decades. 

Tidying and cleaning their resting places in honour of the love that lives still. 

Visiting lonely living elderly relatives and nurturing them with that life-affirming connection. 

I care, you matter, these regular long trips, crisscrossing the country affirm. 

Keeping friends, tight, through stress, divorce, separation, and loss of loved ones. 

Making sure the safety net of your love and concern is strengthened with additional knots of love. 

Never failing in loyalty, even when brought to the knees by the suicide of dear ones. 

The devastation of losing dear ones by their own hand strikes that huge heart to its core. 

But keeping that love alive despite the loss, the pain and absence.  

Remembering and holding their spirit in gentle arms of understanding and compassion.  

Dropping everything and giving anything to help a friend in real need. 

Providing constant help of finance, time, and love. 

Not buckling in the face of death but tightening the armour of love and heading anywhere for those you hold dear. 

"The betterment of the world can be accomplished through pure and goodly deeds and through commendable and seemly conduct. "

Baha'i Writings

Alone and a bit lost?

Prayer is such a personal affair.  Perhaps the most personal of all communication. So speaking of it is tricky. After all, if the condition of prayer is communing with God should we even attempt to discuss such a private thing with others?  A good definition is perhaps the best place to start.

"The state of prayer is the best of conditions, for man is then associating with God."

ʻAbdu'l-Bahá

Knowing what we can endure, accept or change is a fundamental part of that critical conversation.

"God, grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference. "

Reinhold Niebuhr

Prayer has always been much more than asking for things. It has always been even more than just words, it is an act that should have real consequences.  If we pray without subsequently arising to carry out deeds worthy of that divine connection then of what worth are we or our words?

"This is worship: to serve mankind and to minister to the needs of the people. Service is prayer." 

ʻAbdu'l-Bahá

Often prayers are a call of affirmation, or a call for assistance from God and can bring comfort to a soul in trouble and have done so for thousands of years.  We cannot use the following words without thinking of all those before us who have whispered such a heartfelt plea at moments when all seemed hopeless.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff–they comfort me.

Psalms 23: 1-6

In this prayer David speaks to God in terms that any shepherd would have found familiar.  Three thousand years ago a shepherd like David carried a rod and a staff to protect his sheep. The rod was a cudgel: a short, thick, heavy stick worn in his shepherd's belt. The staff was usually a long, lightweight pole with a curved end, a crook, that controlled the sheep and kept them safe within the flock.  Both could be used by the shepherd to protect his animals from any predator.  This prayer is a reminder that God’s presence, like the shepherd, is always there to protect and guide us in very real and tangible ways.  The recital of such powerful prayers influences our spirit in ways akin to a cleansing process.  It has been compared to bathing quite beautifully in the following quote.

"Prayer is the inner bath of love into which the soul plunges itself."

St. John Vianney

Those who fill their life with prayer and real service to others recognise that prayer is not a one-sided communication. On the contrary, the most important part of prayer is invariably the silence and listening that follows or even begins communion with God. 

"God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer."

Mother Teresa

There are often too many words in our prayers and a reluctance to really listen. Just as when talking to family and friends it is not the quantity of the conversation that matters but its quality. 

"The most acceptable prayer is the one offered with the utmost spirituality and radiance; its prolongation hath not been and is not beloved by God."

The Báb

A reluctance to pray can be from overconfidence in our own abilities.  Admitting one needs help is not a sign of weakness. Many outstanding individuals have used prayer when they found the challenges facing them beyond endurance.

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day."

Abraham Lincoln

The prayers of saints can be that potent mixture of communion with God and setting noble goals.

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love,

Where there is injury, pardon

Where there is doubt, faith,

Where there is despair, hope,

Where there is darkness, light,

Where there is sadness, joy."

St. Francis of Assisi

Our parents devote much time, energy, and love to us and an expression of gratitude is often the only worthwhile response to that devotion.

"It is seemly that the servant should, after each prayer, supplicate God to bestow mercy and forgiveness upon his parents. Thereupon God’s call will be raised: “Thousand upon thousand of what thou hast asked for thy parents shall be thy recompense!”

The Báb

There can be times when we feel there is no answer to our prayers and God seems very far away.  That can mean that the answer is simply no. Regarding the huge distance, we find ourselves from God the question it prompts is, “Who has moved”? Even the act of turning in the right direction, whatever the response or distance, can bring unexpected blessings.

"A generous prayer is never presented in vain; the petition may be refused, but the petitioner is always, I believe, rewarded by some gracious visitation."

Robert Louis Stevenson

Indeed, sometimes we focus so entirely on the dialogue that we forget the spirit behind such communion is more important than the words.

"It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without heart."

Mahatma Gandhi

The saying “Trust in God, but tie your camel” is a useful practical suggestion. Our actions and spiritual growth can require different motivations.

"Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you."

St. Augustine

Sometimes we just need the simplest and shortest of prayers and this is one that works for me.

"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!"

The Báb

These difficult days will pass and all we will remember is how we responded to such tests

 Dear Son,

You asked me some questions last night that really made me think. I’m not sure of the answers but I wanted you to know what I think and why. Then, at least you can make your own decisions in the light of that. Please don’t see this as advice. I wouldn’t presume. But I do care too deeply for you not to respond when you ask.

People do take advantage of other's kindness. Sometimes through thoughtlessness, sometimes because of their own agenda and occasionally because they’re not used to it. Every time it hurts. Especially when you do something in a spirit of kindness and others respond with disdain or just more expectations. They can even respond with anger as if you offered them a smack instead of the hand of friendship. Life is too short to examine all these responses and to understand the why of it. Better by far to move on.

If you are pulling people out of a bad place keep going. Don’t stop to argue with someone who resents that you did them a good turn. Whether they feel small, embarrassed, self-preoccupied, angry or frustrated is neither here nor there. If you did good, it is because it is in you to do so. Don’t expect it in others. They may not have it in their own lives and so cannot give it to others.

Life passes so quickly and good nature can easily be broken on the backs of mean spirits. So, don’t linger. Don’t be taken advantage of, just move on. Everyone you meet will teach you something, if only not to past too near again!

Then there are the tyrants. Those twisted so much that your kindness is not just wasted on them it is bad for them. Kindness to such types empowers and enables them to do even more damage. We have a responsibility not to reward their acts of abuse because the next one they torment needs you to stand firm. You must have the courage, in such circumstances, to hold the line like the 300 Spartans of old. You do this not out of dislike of them but because you know that giving in to a tyrant will merely perpetuate the abuse. At such times I think of all the victims of abuse I have known. Do you remember young George flinching at our table from the sound of a banging van door? In the face of such abuse, I steel myself to screw up my courage within me. What can we do? We are nothing really but, whatever it is we are capable of being at that moment, we must strive to be that. Because on the backs of tiny pebbles the great sea waves crash! We are such pebbles and despite the power of the waves, we remain. Know that long after they have smashed and raged and broken we will remain. We were created to bear and endure. Let them do their worst because we need to focus on doing our very best.

Let’s not be distracted by their activities. We have deeds to do, mighty deeds. Time is short, too short. Life passes by so quickly and the only things we will remember are all those who we love or who loved us. Grab such souls to you. Remember their sweetness and steady your stance. The hordes are coming. Stand fast, dear heart. There is no one I’d rather have at my side in the face of injustice. You have a keen poet’s eye and see to the real heart of things. Trust in such vision, believe the courage that lies within and search for truth always.

These difficult days will pass and all we will remember is how we responded to such tests.  That will be either our lasting regret or our legacy.  Know the importance of such choices.

Thanks for asking, for talking and for being you.

tree killer, killed by tree

I don’t like to backbite but there are some people who need to be remembered because they were sufficiently bad to stand out despite the centuries of years that separate them from us.  One of them is Mutawakkil (born March 822, Iraq—died December 861).  One of his party pieces was that when he wanted to make merry he would summon his ministers, councillors and functionaries to his presence and let loose a box of scorpions in the assembly and forbid anyone to move.  A real fun kind of guy to have around.  Indeed, when someone was stung he would burst forth in boisterous laughter.

He immediately tore down synagogues and churches in Baghdad.  Then he razed to the ground the famous Islamic shrine of Husayn Ali and did not allow pilgrimages to take place there.  The tomb of Husayn ibn Ali is one of the holiest places for Shias outside of Mecca and Medina.  In case you are thinking why would a Muslim like Mutawakki seek to eradicate such a special place, it has to be remembered he was a Sunni and regarded this shrine as a Shia site.  Such was the hostility towards the Shias that even remembering the death of Husayn Ali, grandson of Muhammad, was not to be tolerated.  Muhammad had clearly indicated that other religious groups like the Christians and Jews should be protected and allowed to practice their religion.  So it is typical of Mutawakkil that he totally ignored this and only a little over two hundred years after the death of Muhammad began to target the Jews and Christians.

 He reversed the tolerant attitude towards Christians and Jews that Muhammad had insisted on, and requiring them to wear distinctive dress. In 850, he decreed that all "people of the book" must wear "honey-coloured" hats and belts, churches and synagogue built "after the advent of Islam were to be destroyed," one-tenth of their property confiscated and government posts were closed to them.

Anyone that Mutawakkil felt had offended him, even prior to his reign, was dealt with cruelly.  The former Vizier was tortured in an iron maiden (don’t ask!).   Even a small accident could be costly.  One of his own military commanders stumbled during a drinking session and fell on the caliph, this was enough to have the commander sent to prison without water, killing him slowly and painfully.

Even the oldest religion in the land was not left immune.  Zoroastrianism, established in the 6th century BC, held in deep respect a Cypress tree in Turshiz, Khurasan.  It had been planted at the time of Zoroaster and was thought to be 1450 years old.  Zoroaster (or else his patron King Gushtasp, i.e. Vishtaspa) had actually planted the tree outside a temple. 

“Doing good to others is not a duty. It is a joy, for it increases your own health and happiness.”

Quote from Zoroaster (c.628 - c.551)

This cypress tree was said to be unique in beauty, height, and size. It was considered one of the wonders of Khurasan.  (In case one doubts the ability of the cypress tree to reach such an age, one need only examine the e-Abarkooh – Abarkooh, in Iran.  This is cypress is 4000 years old. see photo above) Al-Mutawakkil was told about this special tree in Khurasan and was anxious to see it.  Typical of the man he ordered that it be cut down and brought to him!  Naturally, when the people of Khurasan heard of his order there was much uproar and they even offered money for its preservation.  Unfortunately, Mutawakkil was not a man to be turned.  The huge tree of such historical and religious significance was hewn down and transported to Mutawakkil’s palace.  It is suitably ironic that the day it arrived at his palace Mutawakkil was stabbed to death at the hand of one of his slaves. 

Religion, Rooster Cogburn and a lack of grit

In searching for progress we are sometimes nudged gradually, painfully in certain directions.  For me one of the earliest turning points occurred during my confirmation classes at my local Church of Ireland.  The clergyman when alone with a dozen 13 year olds, instead of preparing us spiritually, engaged in a bit of indoctrination instead.  He lectured us on the disgusting betrayal marriage to Catholics would entail.  He then proceeded to spout a narrow minded evangelistic agenda that even I, a fairly naïve 13 year old girl from the high on the Sperrin mountains, could not tolerate. 

His predecessor the reverent Wills had been a mild elderly man, with metal circular glasses, who lectured in his sermons with soft pleas for humanity and understanding of one’s neighbours.  My father had queried this gentle little man, during a visit to our home, to be more demanding in his sermons.  He asked him,

“Why don’t you tell them to not just love their neighbours, but tell them to love their Catholic neighbours in particular.  Don’t you think that’s what Christ meant?”

The tiny man had carefully wiped his glasses in his lap and said apologetically,

“Now, Mr Stringer, I have to be careful not to offend the congregation, you know yourself what people are like in these parts.”

Rev Wills raised his narrow shoulders in sympathy but continued,

“Sure, if I did anything like that, I’d be preaching to an empty church and what purpose would that serve?”

Having just watched John Wayne in True Grit, I listened to this conversation with disappointment and could not help thinking what the nice Reverent Wills lacked was grit.  I’d have preferred if he had mounted the pulpit, a bible in each hand, and blasted the church goers left right and centre (like Rooster Cogburn), whatever their particular prejudices.  

Unfortunately, his successor lacked the essential goodness of Rev Wills and his gentleness.  His sermons were full of hell and grinding of teeth for all sinners.  His children classes were sufficiently traumatic with their burning pits and devils with horns that I’m sure he kept psychologists/counsellors and psychiatrists in business for decades later.  I had been dragged, by my father, to Sunday School classes and services for years and had complained bitterly.  It was the confirmation classes perversely that really confirmed my suspicions that this man was not good.   So clearly did I articulate my abhorrence for the content of these confirmation classes my father accepted my decision never to enter church premises ever again.  I viewed this new clergyman with the distain I had previously reserved for villains in a Dicken’s novel.   It was hardly fair but adolescents are many things but not forgiving. 

When, I was obliged to attend weddings or funerals I did so out of politeness and respect.  However, I listened to the sermon like a literary critic finding satisfaction when he spouted something that I disagreed with.  When the clergyman asked the congregation to kneel or bow their heads in prayer, I refused to do either.  Instead, he and I would often find ourselves eyeballing each other across the bowed heads of the devout.  I cultivated an accusing stare while he had a bewildered look.  I was confident my stare told him exactly what I thought of him.  Hardly fair, I am sure he had more good qualities than I.  To my adolescent mind he had fallen short of St Francis’s standard and did not deserve my respect or ear.  Ah, the black and white clarity of youth.  There are not even greys, just right and wrong.  The good guys and the bad ones.  In a divided community between Catholic and Protestant I found myself examining both with forensic intensity.  There was so much this autopsy unearthed I felt like a coroner disengaged from both sides.  It was a blessing that my father read so widely as through him I had an appreciation of the Bible and knowledge of Buddhism, Judaism, Islam and Hinduism.  In our family, reading was an obsession, whether it was the Quran, the recently translated  Dead Sea Scrolls  or the writings of Zoroaster.   It has long shocked me how terrified people are to truly investigate.  To search for the truth.  To set aside petty prejudices and really look.  This independent investigation was a constant call to arms.  Truth becomes obscured by ignorance and gradually disclosed by rational effort.  It leds to an appreciated of the essential truths that all the main religions share.  It helps elucidate the qualities that are needed in society if we are to improve our civilisation.  There have been enough rises and falls of civilisations to chart the symptoms of deterioration.  Even without a historical perspective an examination of present day society would suffice to tell us we are on a downward curve. 

After fifty years I am no longer an adolescent and colours have entered my palate.  There are forces of disintegration all around and people’s lives are caught up in this old world order. That is being rolled up.  Look into any institution and you cannot fail to find the corruption just beneath the surface.  Even the most well-intentioned bodies are hounded to a standstill by persistent selfish agendas.  But, I am no longer hopeless or in despair.  There are worse days ahead I’m sure.  Human society will weather storms we cannot even guess at now.  The intensity of such catastrophes will serve to decrease the strange lethargy we are all afflicted with.  Perhaps, anything that serves to allow us to come forth from the sheath of self will transform not just us but society.   The degree to which we engage in building that noble society the happier and more positive our mind-set.  Fighting the forces of darkness is like trying to dam a flood.  Constructing our personal defences, uniting with others who share a vision for a better future is empowering.  Change is coming, we can choose to endure it or embrace the transformation it entails.  It had ever been so. 

In the second century the early Christians were the victims of persecution. Polycarp, the venerable bishop of Smyrna was arrested and imprisoned. While under guard he prayed so fervently and powerfully the guards regretted that they had been involved in his capture.  Later, called upon to recant his faith he refused. "Eighty and six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong", Polycarp goes on to say, “Bring forth what thou wilt."  This elderly gentle bishop in his nineties was burnt at the stake.  Talk about true grit!

I firmly believe we are designed to be noble.  To be better, than we can even possibly imagine.  In reaching that goal a new and better civilisation becomes inevitable.