This past weekend, in spite of the pouring rain, hundreds of Bahá’ís, along with friends and well-wishers, attended a musical drama honouring the message of Bahá’u’lláh, on the occasion of the 200th anniversary of His birth.
How do I explain the mood of pure joy? We were celebrating a life lived in complete service to a calling that Bahá’u’lláh Himself said He would never have accepted, had He not felt utterly compelled to do so. It was a life lived beyond any thought of safety or comfort, for Himself, His family or His community, all of whom were persecuted mercilessly from the time of the first declaration of Bahá’í belief to His passing some fifty years later.
Yet it was also a life lived joyfully, with boundless love and dedication, entirely given over to obedience to what Bahá’u’lláh ceaselessly proclaimed was the will of God.
His message was a simple one that led to the infinite complexities of change. Its fulcrum was the ever-growing need for a unified world community based on cooperation, good will, and the belief in the inherent nobility of each human being.
All of Bahá’u’lláh’s teachings revolved around that central orb. This era, He taught, was destined to bring the messages of all past prophets and messengers to fruition, closing the age of prophecy and beginning the golden age of the maturity of the human race. The gravity and audacity of that claim was the cause of great consternation among the established order of His time; hence the persecution, the exiles, the attempts on His life, the endless opposition.
“The fundamental purpose animating the Faith of God and His Religion,” he wrote, “is to safeguard the interests and promote the unity of the human race, and to foster the spirit of love and fellowship amongst men.” For Bahá’u’lláh, there was no difference between the spirit and objectives of any of the revealed religions. They were a continuum, each one adding to the last, complementing and confirming, their messages tailored and adapted to the peoples and specific needs of their times, their essence the same.
A friend of mine once told me that she’d found the Bahá’í faith by its scent. A rose is a rose, she said. It doesn’t matter what name it has, what tongue says that name, what accent or syntax is used to define it. You have to trust its scent.
I think that was the concept Bahá’u’lláh’s son, Abdu’l-Bahá, was referring to when He said, "...love is light, no matter in what abode it dwelleth…" Goodness should be embraced, no matter its source. You have to trust it. You have to trust yourself to recognize it.
That sometimes involves allowing the light to enter through the cracks, in places that we’d least expect it. Certainly, the land of Persia that existed in the 19th century was not a place one would have expected the light of religious renewal to dawn with a message of world unity.
Two hundred years later, the scent of those teachings, the light they’ve shed, has sustained itself in a way that a multitude of more pedantic prescriptions have not. Humanity, gravitating each day towards greater interconnectedness, stands in stark need of a belief in its inherent nobility and essential oneness. Without that at the core, how can we hope to stand in healthy relation to each other and the rest of the planet?
This year, the bicentennial, my hope is that more of us than ever before feel the gravity of that need and respond in whatever positive way we can.
Related links:
Bicentenary website: https://bicentenary.bahai.org
Victoria Báhai Community: https://www.victoriabahai.org
International Bahá’í Community: http://www.bahai.org/
Sheila Flood is a member of the Bahá’í Faith (www.bahai.org) and present Secretary of the Victoria Multifaith Society (ww.victoriamultifaith.com).
You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking, HERE
