Someone asked: Suppose someone investigates a matter, sincerely and honestly, to the best of her ability and with what resources are available to her. After considering things, she forms a conclusion as best she can. What happens if her honest investigation leads her to a conclusion which is not in accord with what most Bahá’ís believe, or which even seems to conflict with some statement of one of the central figures of the Bahá’í Faith? Should she investigate the truth as best she can, even if she reaches non-Bahá’í conclusions, or should she renounce her investigation of the truth and take things “on faith”?
The paradox seems to be this: If a person is granted the free right to seek, but only if that seeking leads to one place, isn’t it all a lie to make the Faith seem open, when in reality it’s the same as any other system of belief on the planet? How can one search for an assumed truth? Isn’t that like looking for something already in your hands?
Since I study and practice philosophy, this question is dear to me. I hope I can offer something to your query.
First, I wish to distinguish the common sense usages of religious truth and Bahá’í belief.
Bahá’í teachings describe many attributes of God, such as love, peace, forbearance, abstinence from contention and conflict, etc. I presume that a possession of the truth would be indicated by the presence of all these things. Therefore, “believing” in the tenets of the Faith is not “truth”, because one can hold such beliefs and still violate all of its principles.
In support of this, I find that `Abdu’l-Bahá said: “If religion becomes the cause of enmity and bloodshed, then irreligion is to be preferred, for religion is the remedy for every ailment, and if a remedy should become the cause of ailment and difficulty, it is better to abandon it.”
And Bahá’u’lláh wrote, “The purpose underlying the revelation of every heavenly Book, nay, of every divinely-revealed verse, is to endue all men with righteousness and understanding, so that peace and tranquillity may be firmly established amongst them. Whatsoever instilleth assurance into the hearts of men, whatsoever exalteth their station or promoteth their contentment, is acceptable in the sight of God.”
Again, the emphasis is on actual behavior, not profession. That is, religion relates to an essential reality, not an outward form.
I do not believe religion’s purpose is for us to have fixed ideas about things. The stated goal is union with God, and the stages of that union are described in the “Seven Valleys”. Unless I see the signs of such a transformation, either the person has gone nowhere or I was too blind to notice.
“Holding Bahá’í beliefs” can even be a stumbling block to progress in some cases, because it can lead to an arrogant assumption of superior knowledge. “We’re the most recent Faith, and you aren’t.” This is not knowledge, but a bolstering of self by illusions of righteousness. It should not be confused with the Faith, since it is distinctly abhorred by it:
Verily I say unto thee: Of all men the most negligent is he that disputeth idly and seeketh to advance himself over his brother. Say, O brethren! Let deeds, not words, be your adorning.
Second, considering the idea of an undirected, pure search, where the only goal is a deeper understanding of reality.
There is a verse in the Qur’án which says:
Whoso maketh efforts for Us, in our ways will we guide him.
Also, Bahá’u’lláh in one place quotes an Arab proverb which says, “He who seeketh out a thing with zeal shall find it.”
It seems to me from these, and other sources, that sincere effort will produce results, no matter the direction, since purity of the effort attracts God’s aid. “At every step, aid from the invisible realm will attend him, and the heat of his search for grow.” So the question here is: What is her motive, and what is she really seeking? Bahá’ís or not, people who employ religion for a sense of security are totally missing the boat. Do they really think the journey ends with acceptance? The Qur’án says: “Do men think when they say `We believe’ they shall be let alone and not be put to proof?”
Third, the Writings state that freedom of spirit is integral to understanding religious truth, and not the outward assumption of a set of beliefs — and that such a spirit, if it love God, will transform in its journey toward Him. It is the spirit of religion which is significant, not its dogma. And this is attained not through assumption, but purity, chastity, freedom and effort:
The understanding of His words and the comprehension of the utterances of the Birds of Heaven are in no wise dependent upon human learning. They depend solely upon purity of heart, chastity of soul, and freedom of spirit.
Fourth, I see the “Bahá’í Faith” not as the truth per se, but a portal leading to truth. Bahá’u’lláh even states that what has been revealed to Us is according to our capacity (i.e., related to Us), not a full expression of His reality:
By My spirit and by My favor! By My mercy and by My beauty! All that I have revealed unto thee with the tongue of power, and have written for thee with the pen of might, hath been in accordance with thy capacity and understanding, not with My state and the melody of My voice.
So the Faith may spring from the source of Truth, but ten thousand years from now, will not our forbears be amused at our ignorance? For us, the Word of God is truth unalloyed (relative to our state); but even if we repeat the words, we have done nothing but exercise our vocal chords. To experience the truth contained in those words, we must immerse ourselves in that ocean:
Immerse yourselves in the ocean of My words, that ye may unravel its secrets, and discover all the pearls of wisdom that lie hid in its depths. Take heed that ye do not vacillate in your determination to embrace the truth of this Cause — a Cause through which the potentialities of the might of God have been revealed, and His sovereignty established. With faces beaming with joy, hasten ye unto Him. This is the changeless Faith of God, eternal in the past, eternal in the future. Let him that seeketh, attain it; and as to him that hath refused to seek it — verily, God is Self-Sufficient, above any need of His creatures.
Do you see the difference? Someone can say to me, E
is mc2, and I can nod back at him and say, “Yes, I
heard you just fine.” But a world of difference exists
between those who merely hear, and those who understand. To go into
the problem, to root out its implications, to nestle it within your
heart, and mix its ingredients with the essence of your own being…
THAT is seeking after truth. Anything else is pale mimicry.
Lastly, if your friend seeks after truth earnestly, I believe she will find it. I do not know what it will look like, and I must say I’d be surprised if she found it without ever considering — even indirectly — the revolutionary ideas found in the teachings of Bahá’u’lláh. Who before Him suggested that all Faiths had one source, that science is the supporter of religion, that the mind is the mightiest pillar supporting the Faith of God, that women and men and all the races are equal in their spiritual reality, that evil is but an illusion before the reality of good, and that all souls continue to develop eternally in their quest for God? Where else are all the Faiths described as intrinsically united in their purpose, and what else delves into the idea of unity with such depth and completeness? I wonder if what she finds will be the product of a True Mind, and not simply the elaborations of a fellow seeker.
At some point, possibly, her outward behaviors and beliefs may come to coincide with the members of our Faith. But we are not all equal in the status of our search; every human is unique in his condition. To say that seeking will result in following a mold, is like saying that God’s purpose in making people with free-will, was only to transform them into automatons.
In conclusion, I think “truth” is essentially something people do not, and will never, know, because there is infinitely much that is unknown, and truth includes all. Hence the notion of eternal progress and discovery.
It may be “true” that Bahá’u’lláh is a Messenger of God, and that His words contain the wisdom needed by humanity at this stage of its spiritual evolution. But we are not seeking after “true things”. If we were, learning that 2+2 is 4 should make us satisfied. To truly seek is to go where no one else has gone, because how can another person’s experience of life be identical to yours?
I suppose the ultimate dilemma we still come to is: Will her search necessarily lead her to the Bahá’í Faith?
I guess it will or it won’t. In fact, that would be a pretty good test of its truth, wouldn’t it?
The Valleys depict different world-views. As Bahá’u’lláh states:
Thus it hath been made clear that these stages depend on the vision of the wayfarer. In every city he will behold a world, in every Valley reach a spring, in every meadow hear a song.1
To have knowledge of each Valley is not enough. One cannot comprehend it from the outside. To be a “wayfarer” is a question of residence, not familiarity.
This is a good time to review something from the Valley of Knowledge. In Persian there are two words commonly used for knowledge, `Ilm and `Irfán. They are as different as studying about the ocean, and swimming in it.
The translation “valley of knowledge” is not really accurate, given the common meaning of this word. The Persian text says “Ma`rifat”; which my dictionary translates as meaning “insight into divine matters” (the word is derived from `Irfán, which can mean wisdom or insight).
It means that those in the valley of knowledge have come to fully appreciate and trust God’s planning. This is no simple matter. Even Moses failed this test, as Muhammad relates in the story of Khidr:
So [Moses] found one of Our servants (Khidr), on whom We had bestowed Mercy from Ourselves and whom We had taught knowledge from Our own Presence.
Moses said to him: “May I follow thee, on the footing that thou teach me something of the (Higher) Truth which thou hast been taught?”
(The other) said: “Verily thou wilt not be able to have patience with me!”
“And how canst thou have patience about things about which thy understanding is not complete?”
Moses said: “Thou wilt find me, if God so will, (truly) patient: nor shall I disobey thee in aught.”
The other said: “If then thou wouldst follow me, ask me no questions about anything until I myself speak to thee concerning it.”
So they both proceeded: until, when they were in the boat, he scuttled it. Said Moses: “Hats thou scuttled it in order to drown those in it? Truly a strange thing hast thou done!”
He answered: “Did I not tell thee that thou canst have no patience with me?”
Moses said: “Rebuke me not for forgetting, nor grieve me by raising difficulties in my case.”
Then they proceeded: until, when they met a young man, he slew him. Moses said: “Hats thou slain an innocent person who had slain none? Truly a foul (unheard of) thing hast thou done!”
He answered: “Did I not tell thee that thou canst have no patience with me?”
(Moses) said: “If ever I ask thee about anything after this, keep me not in thy company: then wouldst thou have received (full) excuse from my side.”
Then they proceeded: until, when they came to the inhabitants of a town, they asked them for food, but they refused them hospitality. They found there a wall on the point of falling down, but he set it up straight. (Moses) said: “If thou hadst wished, surely thou couldst have exacted some recompense for it!”
He answered: “This is the parting between me and thee: now will I tell thee the interpretation of (those things) over which thou wast unable to hold patience.
“As for the boat, it belonged to certain men in dire want: they plied on the water: I but wished to render it unserviceable, for there was after them a certain king who seized on every boat by force.
“As for the youth, his parents were people of Faith, and we feared that he would grieve them by obstinate rebellion and ingratitude (to God and man).
“So we desired that their Lord would give them in exchange (a son) better in purity (of conduct) and closer in affection.
“As for the wall, it belonged to two youths, orphans, in the Town; there was, beneath it, a buried treasure, to which they were entitled: their father had been a righteous man: So thy Lord desired that they should attain their age of full strength and get out their treasure — a mercy (and favour) from thy Lord. I did it not of my own accord. Such is the interpretation of (those things) over which thou wast unable to hold patience.”2
Bahá’u’lláh also refers to this story in the Seven Valleys, by quoting Rúmí’s verse:
If Khidr did wreck the vessel on the
sea,
Yet in this wrong there are a thousand
rights.3
God works mysterious good in our lives, which is not fathomable to those lacking “insight into divine matters”. It has been stated often that all of God’s workings, whether they appear good or evil to us, benefit His faithful ones in the end:
Whatsoever occurreth in the world of being is light for His loved ones and fire for the people of sedition and strife. Even if all the losses of the world were to be sustained by one of the friends of God, he would still profit thereby, whereas true loss would be borne by such as are wayward, ignorant and contemptuous. Although the author of the following saying had intended it otherwise, yet We find it pertinent to the operation of God’s immutable Will: “Even or odd, thou shalt win the wager.” The friends of God shall win and profit under all conditions, and shall attain true wealth. In fire they remain cold, and from water they emerge dry. Their affairs are at variance with the affairs of men. Gain is their lot, whatever the deal. To this testifieth every wise one with a discerning eye, and every fair-minded one with a hearing ear.4
It is not so hard to “understand” that God means us well in all things. It is an entirely different thing to “know” — to have the necessary insight — to behold something terrible occurring, and yet praise God for allowing it. The atrocities of war are most often used as proof of this. Yet the Seven Valleys say of the wayfarers in the path of Knowledge: “And if he meeteth with injustice he shall have patience, and if he cometh upon wrath he shall manifest love.”5
I will copy here the story of the lover and the beloved, from the Seven Valleys, since it shows Bahá’u’lláh’s own elucidation of this theme:
There was once a lover who had sighed for long years in separation from his beloved, and wasted in the fire of remoteness. From the rule of love, his heart was empty of patience, and his body weary of his spirit; he reckoned life without her as a mockery, and time consumed him away. How many a day he found no rest in longing for her; how many a night the pain of her kept him from sleep; his body was worn to a sigh, his heart’s wound had turned him to a cry of sorrow. He had given a thousand lives for one taste of the cup of her presence, but it availed him not. The doctors knew no cure for him, and companions avoided his company; yea, physicians have no medicine for one sick of love, unless the favor of the beloved one deliver him.
At last, the tree of his longing yielded the fruit of despair, and the fire of his hope fell to ashes. Then one night he could live no more, and he went out of his house and made for the marketplace. On a sudden, a watchman followed after him. He broke into a run, with the watchman following; then other watchmen came together, and barred every passage to the weary one. And the wretched one cried from his heart, and ran here and there, and moaned to himself: “Surely this watchman is Izrá’íl, my angel of death, following so fast upon me; or he is a tyrant of men, seeking to harm me.” His feet carried him on, the one bleeding with the arrow of love, and his heart lamented. Then he came to a garden wall, and with untold pain he scaled it, for it proved very high; and forgetting his life, he threw himself down to the garden.
And there he beheld his beloved with a lamp in her hand, searching for a ring she had lost. When the heart-surrendered lover looked on his ravishing love, he drew a great breath and raised up his hands in prayer, crying: “O God! Give Thou glory to the watchman, and riches and long life. For the watchman was Gabriel, guiding this poor one; or he was Isráfíl, bringing life to this wretched one!”
Indeed, his words were true, for he had found many a secret justice in this seeming tyranny of the watchman, and seen how many a mercy lay hid behind the veil. Out of wrath, the guard had led him who was athirst in love’s desert to the sea of his loved one, and lit up the dark night of absence with the light of reunion. He had driven one who was afar, into the garden of nearness, had guided an ailing soul to the heart’s physician.
Now if the lover could have looked ahead, he would have blessed the watchman at the start, and prayed on his behalf, and he would have seen that tyranny as justice; but since the end was veiled to him, he moaned and made his pliant in the beginning. Yet those who journey in the garden land of knowledge, because they see the end in the beginning, see peace in war and friendliness in anger.6
We are all familiar with this “watchman”, and some of us have found the “beloved” on the other side of the wall. But how many can say that we pray before the discovery?
O Son of Man! My calamity is My providence, outwardly it is fire and vengeance, but inwardly it is light and mercy. Hasten thereunto that thou mayest become an eternal light and an immortal spirit. This is My command unto thee, do thou observe it.7
O Son of Man! For everything there is a sign. The sign of love is fortitude under My decree and patience under My trials.8
Each Valley seems to represent a spiritual station. Knowledge (divine insight), appears to be the station of: “God doeth as He pleaseth.” As someone else wrote, we become like the Sufi who is delighted at being thwarted, because he knows that God is pushing his life in a better direction — albeit invisibly at the start.
This station is called “the last plane of limitation” in the Seven Valleys. A question: Do you think this station is also being described in the following quote, from the Kitáb-i-`Ahd?
We fain would hope that the people of Bahá may be guided by the blessed words: `Say: all things are of God.’ This exalted utterance is like unto water for quenching the fire of hate and enmity which smouldereth within the hearts and breasts of men. By this single utterance contending peoples and kindreds will attain the light of true unity.
If so, might this verse — this Word, this station — be the one that Bahá’u’lláh refers to elsewhere in these words?
In the treasuries of the knowledge of God there lieth concealed a knowledge which, when applied, will largely, though not wholly, eliminate fear… A word hath, likewise, been written down and recorded by the Pen of the Most High in the Crimson Book [this refers to the Kitáb-i-`Ahd] which is capable of fully disclosing that force which is hid in men, nay of redoubling its potency. We implore God — exalted and glorified be He — to graciously assist His servants to do that which is pleasing and acceptable unto Him.
What is fear but apprehension of the unknown? And what is the station of “All things are of God” but that of welcoming the Unknown? I’ll end by including a verse from the Valley of Knowledge, which so completely empitomizes this attitude:
The wayfarer in this Valley seeth in the fashionings of the True One nothing save clear providence, and at every moment saith: “No defect canst thou see in the creation of the God of Mercy: Repeat the gaze: Seest thou a single flaw?” He beholdeth justice in injustice, and in justice, grace. In ignorance he findeth many a knowledge hidden, and in knowledge a myriad wisdoms manifest.
The Conference of the Birds, Mantiqu’t-Tayr, is a story of thirty birds who are all seeking to reach the immortal King. Their guide, the Hoopoe bird, describes to them seven valleys which all must pass through before they can achieve their final destination. It is these seven valleys which Bahá’u’lláh elaborates in His text “The Seven Valleys”.
As a side note, in case some were wondering, the word for “valley” in these texts does not mean a lush ravine between mountains. The word “vádí” refers to what people in the Southwestern USA know as an arroyo. It is a dry river, useful as a guide when making one’s way through a desert.
The following quotes come from two different translations of the Conference of the Birds; all of them are from that book’s Valley of Knowledge (which is also translated as Valley of Understanding, and Valley of Mystic Insight).
When the mystery of the essence of beings reveals itself clearly to [the wayfarer] the furnace of this world becomes a garden of flowers. He who is striving will be able to see the almond in its hard shell. He will no longer be pre-occupied with himself, but will look up at the face of his Friend. In each atom he will see the whole; he will ponder over thousands of bright secrets…
Real knowledge becomes the possession of the true seeker. If it is necessary to seek knowledge in China, then go. But knowledge is distorted by the formal mind, it becomes petrified, like stones. How long must real knowledge continue to be misunderstood? This world, this house of sorrows, is in darkness; but true knowledge is a jewel, it will burn like a lamp and guide you in this gloomy place. If you spurn this jewel you will ever be a prey to regret. If you lag behind you will weep bitter tears. But if you sleep little by night, and fast by day, you may find what you seek. Seek, then, and be lost in the quest.
Of those who dwell in this Valley it is said:
He will perceive the marrow, not the skin —
the self will disappear; then, from within
the heart of all he sees, there will ascend
the longed-for face of the immortal Friend.
A hundred thousand secrets will be known
when that unveiled, surpassing Face is shown —
a hundred thousand men must faint and fail
till one shall draw aside the secret’s veil.
Perfected, of rare courage, he must be
to dive through that immense, uncharted sea.
If you discern such hidden truths and feel
joy flood your life, do not relax your zeal!
Though thirst is quenched,
though you are bathed in bliss
beyond all hypothesis,
though you should reach the throne of God,
implore Him still unceasingly:
“Is there yet anymore?”
The following tradition, attributed to the Imám `Alí, is from the book The Way of the Sufi by Idries Shah:
You probably seem to yourself to be a believer, even if you are a believer in disbelief.
But you cannot really believe in anything until you are aware of the process by which you arrived at your position.
Before you do this you must be ready to postulate that all your beliefs may be wrong, that what you think to be belief may only be a variety of prejudice caused by your surroundings — including the bequest of your ancestors for whom you may have a sentiment.
True belief belongs to the realm of real knowledge.
Until you have knowledge, belief is mere coalesced opinions, however it may seem to you.
Coalesced opinions serve for ordinary living. Real belief enables higher studies to be made.
This theme of self-examination is echoed in `Abdu’l-Bahá’s words, where he calls the Seven Valleys “a guide for human conduct”:
It is my hope… that you may search out your own imperfections and not think of the imperfections of anybody else. Strive with all your power to be free from imperfections. Heedless souls are always seeking faults in others. What can the hypocrite know of others’ faults when he is blind to his own? This is the meaning of the words in the Seven Valleys. It is a guide for human conduct. As long as a man does not find his own faults, he can never become perfect. Nothing is more fruitful for man than the knowledge of his own shortcomings. The Blessed Perfection says, “I wonder at the man who does not find his own imperfections.”9
Here are some meditations from the Hidden Words which seem to relate to the themes of the Valley of Knowledge:
O Son of Man! Thou art My dominion and My dominion perisheth not; wherefore fearest thou thy perishing? Thou art My light and My light shall never be extinguished; why dost thou dread extinction? Thou art My glory and My glory fadeth not; thou art My robe and My robe shall never be outworn. Abide then in thy love for Me, that thou mayest find Me in the realm of glory.
O Son of Man! For everything there is a sign. The sign of love is fortitude under My decree and patience under My trials.
O Son of Man! The true lover yearneth for tribulation even as doth the rebel for forgiveness and the sinful for mercy.
O Son of Man! If adversity befall thee not in My path, how canst thou walk in the ways of them that are content with My pleasure? If trials afflict thee not in thy longing to meet Me, how wilt thou attain the light in thy love for My beauty?
O Son of Man! My calamity is My providence, outwardly it is fire and vengeance, but inwardly it is light and mercy. Hasten thereunto that thou mayest become an eternal light and an immortal spirit. This is My command unto thee, do thou observe it.
There is another recurring theme in the Writings, both Islamic and Bahá’í, of four divine states which are referred to in the verse: “He is the first and the last, the Seen and the Hidden.”10 It is also found in the New Testament, where it says “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.”11
Bahá’u’lláh expounds on this theme in the Valley of Unity, yet it is also found in the Valley of Knowledge. In the story of the lover and his beloved, the lover starts in the “world of the beginning”. After he is pursued by the watchmen, he comes upon his beloved and is transported to the “world of the end”.
These two worlds exist in the vision of the wayfarer. Between them is the illusory reality of Time, through which men must pass. Owing to these two worlds, change is witnessed. Because of them, the Prophets appear to have different names, and speak in different tongues. Otherwise, in the realm of unity, “This is the changeless Faith of God, eternal in the past, eternal in the future.”.12
Consider yourself in a difficult situation. Without knowing the outcome, you may be seized by fear, or wonder at what may happen. You are in the “world of firstness”. In this condition “the end is veiled to you”, and people are wont “to make their pliant in the beginning.”
After the passage of time, and the appearance of change, we learn the outcome of our situation. We may be happy, or sad, but now things are complete. We have entered “the world of lastness”, and come to the end of our waiting.
It is possible, through faith, and insight into the ways of God, to perceive “the end in the beginning”. That is, while dwelling in the world of the first, it is as though we look across a gorge, and see the details of the world of the last. We take heart in what we see, and our apprehension of the unknown leaves us. Because God “[has] ordained for thy training every atom in existence and the essence of all created things”,13 we come to perceive even the next life from the vantage point of this life, and learn that everything which occurs materially is for the benefit of spiritual progress. Thus the gap of death is bridged, and we are filled with a spiritual joy that is beyond this world.
This is the station of those in the valley of Knowledge, and by such insight the wayfarer can reach across the boundaries of Time. It is an attribute of those who see the large in the small, the tree in the seed, the future in the present. This is the last world of limitation, for limitations require separation, and separation implies differences.
He says, “… the people of the Valleys above this see the end and the beginning as one…” In this condition, the world of the beginning is not different from the world of the end. Whatever situation we find ourselves in, and however we may seem to other people, we are actually dwelling in the world of the end, though our surroundings have the appearance of the world of the beginning.
To give a concrete example of this: In the game of chess, players are ranked according to their ability on a scale from 0 to 3000. The greater the numerical separation between players, the greater the likelihood that the higher player will win.
At a tournament, where people are playing to win, let’s assume that you are rated 3000, and your opponent is rated 0. This means that you have no possibility of losing. Although no pieces have been moved, and you sit in the world of the first, because of your certitude you already count the game as won. You already experience the joys and emotions of the world of the last. Indeed, no matter what apparent “changes” occur on the board, they have no reality, and time in this case is just a show.
Likewise for the other player. The end and the beginning are one, and while we may see the players at the “beginning”, they themselves already dwell in the “end”. They do not just see the end in the beginning; their emotions, vision, and reality concerning the end and the beginning is one.
This is the station of `Abdu’l-Bahá saying “The Temple is already built.” For Him, Who saw the condition of the believers at that time, the Temple already existed in its full splendour. I imagine He was able to revel in the creation of the believers, and experienced joy at what they had/will build. Time was but a show, a non-thing. In the spiritual worlds, the cornerstone and the Temple were one.
This implies a complete transcendence of the conditions of this life, which seems so ruled by boundaries and temporal causation. It is no wonder that Bahá’u’lláh said that the valley of Knowledge “is the last plane of limitation”. Here the spirit is free, and appearances no longer affect it. Owing to the saying, “Verily we are from God, and to Him shall we return”, he sees the Face of God everywhere, for has he not already returned? Bahá’u’lláh says, “… what life have words, on such a plane, that `first’ and `last’ or other than these be seen or mentioned! In this realm, the first is the last itself, and the last is but the first.”14
He then continues, “Nay rather, the denizens of the undying city, who dwell in the green garden land, see not even `neither first nor last’; they fly from all that is first, and repulse all that is last.”15 In Gems of the Mysteries16, Bahá’u’lláh writes, “In this station change and alteration are pure idolatry and unadulterated belief.”17 In this realm of the Infinite, change is not only unreal, it is uncreate. “Knowledge is a single point, but the ignorant have multiplied it.”18 Here there is no believer, for as He said, “There was God and there was naught beside Him”. And further, “This is the plane whereon the vestiges of all things are destroyed in the traveler, and on the horizon of eternity the Divine Face riseth out of the darkness, and the meaning of ‘All on the earth shall pass away, but the face of thy Lord…’ is made manifest.”19
Even love, which implies a lover, debars one from this realm, as it says in the poetic, “Love is a veil betwixt the lover and the loved one; more than this I am not permitted to tell”.20
I hope this will stimulate any ideas the reader may have on the mysteries of “the beginning and the end,”. Given our subjection to time, and the tricks it plays on us, I find it heartening that Bahá’u’lláh foretells a spiritual station in which these limitations can be transcended.
… We supplicate God to submerge us in these surging oceans, to encompass us in these spray-laden gales and to bestow upon us a divine stairway for our ascent. In this way might we cleanse our human temples of everything we have acquired from our base selves and divest ourselves of the shameless garments that we have stolen from our peers, that God may clothe us in the cloak of His grace and the raiments of His guidance. Then might He cause us to enter the city of knowledge; for everyone who sets foot therein knows all branches of learning even before he becomes aware of their inner secrets. He comprehends all knowledge and wisdom by means of the mysteries of divinity deposited in the creation — for he reads in the leaf the secrets of the tree. Praise be to God, the Maker and fashioner of the universe, above all that was created and preordained therein.21
The following poem affectedly me profoundly, since it ties in so well with Plato’s theory of wisdom22. In it Rumi highlights the fact that we cannot reach the Beloved merely through “trying”, or the accumulation of knowledge, but rather by other ways, other means…
This piece of food cannot be eaten,
nor this bit of wisdom found by looking.
There is a secret core in everyone;
not even Gabriel can know by trying to know.
I think this question of “action” in relation to spiritual pursuit deserves much consideration. For there are both dependent and independent forms of action, each of which have a different character, and very different implications.
For example, the Indian philosopher Krishnamurti seems to associate the desire for change with hatred. That is, if we love something, why would we want to change it? The desire for change implies a desire for Life to become other than it presently is. This represents a longing to be apart from the “now”, and a wish to live in an unrealized future. This distances man from reality, since the only real thing we can ever connect with is the Here and Now.
When I talk about this with others, almost always the argument is brought up, “Well, does that mean we should do nothing then?”
It is an interesting dilemma, for even Muhammad asserts, “No defect canst thou see in the creation of the God of Mercy: Repeat the gaze: Seest thou a single flaw?”
The fact is, change — as it relates to the world of phenomenal experience — is unavoidable. We couldn’t stop change from happening if we tried. Thus, it is only “independent change” — change for the sake of change; the instigation of change without cause — that Krishnamurti seems to denounce. This type of change happens when we look at the world, and see it as faulty and in need of correction.
Dependent change, however, constitutes the very flow of life from moment to moment. Day changes into night, and night into day. Seasons change, the hours change. Believers change, and everyone else too. This category of change precedes from a cause, the generation of which was not in itself a desire for change.
The key example is love. Where there is love, there cannot BUT be change, for the lover burns so ardently to do something, anything! to show his love. Change per se goes unnoticed by the lover, yet change flows constantly from his very being. In fact, the power of love is a magnet for change, affecting all those he comes into contact with. This is a dependent change, since it arises as the by-product of a present reality, and not as an end in itself.
Perhaps spiritual action is similar: to act without intent to change, such that it results in radical change. I find a connection here to the Chinese concept of “wuwei” (non-doing), in which a person accomplishes things without the intention of doing them. It connotes an effortless flow, a combining of “within” and “without” that dissolves the barrier between self and non-self. There is only the All, the great flow; only things which obey this flow have lasting effect. This mirrors the idea of Tao, and the common use of water as a metaphor to explain it.23
Hence “action” is like a fruit of the lovers longing. But action itself is not the focus or motive. Change is nowhere desired, yet everywhere achieved. It is the middle road between stillness and moving, a mode of being very tricky to discover — and the quest of many a Japanese ko’an.24
I find this beautifully summarized in the following Zen poem Cheng-tao Ke, which appears in Alan Watt’s book, The Way of Zen:
Like the empty sky it has no boundaries,
Yet it is right in this place, ever profound and clear.
When you seek to know it, you cannot see it.
You cannot take hold of it,
But you cannot lose it.
In not being able to get it, you get it.
When you are silent, it speaks;
When you speak, it is silent.
The great gate is wide open to bestow alms,
And no crowd is blocking the way.
I believe if we abandon all procedure, all expectation, all method, and simply focus on purifying our heart from everything but God, He will grant us the assistance we seek. There are many quotations which appear to me related to this Theme:
The true seeker hunteth naught but the object of his quest, and the lover hath no desire save union with his beloved. Nor shall the seeker reach his goal unless he sacrifice all things. That is, whatever he hath seen, and heard, and understood, all must he set at naught, that he may enter the realm of the spirit, which is the City of God.25
In this quote, I throw away all my past learning and experience. It is not necessary for seeking God.
The understanding of His words and the comprehension of the utterances of the Birds of Heaven are in no wise dependent upon human learning. They depend solely upon purity of heart, chastity of soul, and freedom of spirit. This is evidenced by those who, today, though without a single letter of the accepted standards of learning, are occupying the loftiest seats of knowledge; and the garden of their hearts is adorned, through the showers of divine grace, with the roses of wisdom and the tulips of understanding.26
In this quote, he frees me from the need for knowledge or skill, and makes my progress wholly dependent on my purity, chastity and freedom. These are attributes which oppose acquisition! Purity is being free from obstruction, chastity is being free from lust or inordinate desire, and freedom is of course being free from restriction.
Fear God, and God will give you knowledge.27
Here I need only fear God. In Arabic the term is “Khashíyyatu’lláh”, which implies a reverential awe, such as a Knight of the Round Table would have had for King Arthur. The devotion of such a knight which cause him to prefer death before dishonoring or disobeying his Lord. In fact, the mere suggestion of deceit would feel like a physical sickness. This is different from “tarsídan”, which means fear as one might fear spiders or some threat.
Now is the traveler unaware of himself, and of aught besides himself. He seeth neither ignorance nor knowledge, neither doubt nor certitude; he knoweth not the morn of guidance from the night of error. He fleeth both from unbelief and faith, and deadly poison is a balm to him.28
In this quote, questions of station, knowledge and attainment are simply not the seeker’s focus. In fact, whatever draws one’s attention away from God is not worthy of consideration. As He wrote:
They say: `Where is Paradise, and where is Hell?’ Say: `The one is reunion with Me; the other thine own self, O thou who dost associate a partner with God and doubtest.’29
I interpret this to mean that our self, since it can become a focal point of attention, causes us to turn our eyes away from God, which is the essence of Hell. This is an interesting emphasis, since it means that self-perfection and self-development are not the goal of religion. They are means to an end. That end is reunion with God, which is being so completely absorbed in and by the Divine that there is nothing else. In order for this to happen, as was quoted above, there must be purity, fear of God, etc. — in other words, virtue. But this virtue is functional, not qualitative. We gain nothing if the result of such virtue is that we focus even more intently on our own progress.
So, we progress until we reach a point where we abandon all notion of progress, all hope (for ourselves) of attainment. When there is only the Beloved, and then:
O My Brother! A pure heart is as a mirror; cleanse it with the burnish of love and severance from all save God, that the true sun may shine within it and the eternal morning dawn. Then wilt thou clearly see the meaning of “Neither doth My earth nor My heaven contain Me, but the heart of My faithful servant containeth Me.” And thou wilt take up thy life in thine hand, and with infinite longing cast it before the new Beloved One.
Whensoever the light of Manifestation of the King of Oneness settleth upon the throne of the heart and soul, His shining becometh visible in every limb and member. At that time the mystery of the famed tradition gleameth out of the darkness: “A servant is drawn unto Me in prayer until I answer him; and when I have answered him, I become the ear wherewith he heareth…” For thus the Master of the house hath appeared within His home, and all the pillars of the dwelling are ashine with His light. And the action and effect of the light are from the Light-Giver; so it is that all move through Him and arise by His will. And this is that spring whereof the near ones drink, as it is said: “A fount whereof the near unto God shall drink…”30
Further along this theme, He writes:
In this realm, to search after knowledge is irrelevant, for He hath said concerning the guidance of travelers on this plane, “Fear God, and God will instruct thee.” And again: “Knowledge is a light which God casteth into the heart of whomsoever He willeth.”31
In other words:
Muhammad is our first, Muhammad our last, Muhammad our all.32
The secret of life is to become like a moth, circling around the Best-Beloved of all worlds, the Ancient Beauty. In that state, “they swim in the sea of the spirit, and soar in the holy air of light. Then what life have words, on such a plane, that ‘first’ and ‘last’ or other than these be seen or mentioned!”33 From this state all knowledge and all things proceed, as He wrote:
… for everyone who sets foot therein knows all branches of learning even before he becomes aware of their inner secrets. He comprehends all knowledge and wisdom by means of the mysteries of divinity deposited in the creation — for he reads in the leaf the secrets of the tree.34
So why should we worry ourselves over the details of attainment, when attainment itself grants all things? Therefore, the only question, the only worry, the only point of focus worthy of attention, is God Himself as manifested in the Primal Point: the Manifestations of God. There is absolutely nothing else to consider, or concern oneself with, beyond this.
1. Seven Valleys, p. 29
2. Qur’án, verses 18:65-18:82
3. Seven Valleys, p. 26
4. From the compilation “Crisis and Victory”, part 2
5. Seven Valleys, p. 13
6. ibid., pp. 13-15
7. Hidden Words, no.51 from the Arabic
8. ibid., no.48 from the Arabic
9. Promulgation of Universal Peace, p. 244
10. Qur’án 57:3
11. Revelation 22:13
12. Gleanings, LXX
13. Hidden Words, from the Persian, 29
14. from the Valley of Unity
15. from the Valley of Knowledge
16. Javáhiru’l-Asrár
17. Gems of the Mysteries, translated by Juan Cole; from a provisional translation
18. Hadíth, i.e. action or utterance traditionally attributed to the Prophet Muhammad or to one of the holy Imáms
19. from the Valley of Absolute Poverty and True Nothingness
20. from the Valley of Knowledge
21. Gems of the Mysteries, translated by Juan Cole; from a provisional translation
22. Plato’s basis for approaching wisdom is that all people have a “spark of the divine” within them. Through the acquisition of virtue, we make ourselves of like essence to the thing we seek, and thereby, through attraction, are drawn into the Light. “For like seeketh like, and taketh pleasure in the company of its kind.”
23. There is a quote in the Tao The Ching which says exactly this, that only actions which accord with the Tao are capable of having effect, but my copy of that book is hiding somewhere.
24. There is a ko’an which asks: “You stand before Master P, who holds his stick. If you speak, he will beat you. If you say nothing, he will beat you. What is the answer?”
25. Valley of Search
26. Kitáb-i-êqán, p. 211
27. quoted in the second of the Four Valleys
28. Valley of Love
29. Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, p. 132
30. Valley of Knowledge
31. from the second of the Four Valleys
32. Kitáb-i-êqán, p. 153
33. Valley of Unity
34. from “Gems of the Mysteries” (Javáhiru’l-Asrár), provisionally translation by Juan Cole
The Writings are fortunately very clear on what back-biting is:
If any individual should speak ill of one who is absent…1
It simply says “speaking ill”, not whether what is being said is true or not, whether it is already known to the hearer or not, whether it is a public figure being spoken of, etc. It is just “speaking ill” — the opposite of “speaking well”.
Further, back-biting is speaking ill of one who is “absent”. It does not clarify if this refers to deceased persons, simply people who are not “present”.
As an example of this, `Abdu’l-Bahá counsels us not to discuss even the faults of our rulers:
Except to speak well of them, make thou no mention of the earth’s kings, and the worldly governments thereof.2
Additionally, the House of Justice has provided clarification which makes it possible to engage in necessary consultation (this is found in Lights of Guidance, page 90):
You ask in your letter for guidance on the implications of the prohibition on backbiting and more specifically whether, in moments of anger or depression, the believer is permitted to turn to his friends to unburden his soul and discuss his problem in human relations. Normally, it is possible to describe the situation surrounding a problem and seek help and advice in resolving it, without necessarily mentioning names. The individual believer should seek to do this, whether he is consulting a friend, Bahá’í or non-Bahá’í, or whether the friend is consulting him.
`Abdu’l-Bahá does not permit adverse criticism of individuals by name in discussion among the friends, even if the one criticizing believes that he is doing so to protect the interests of the Cause. If the situation is of such gravity as to endanger the interests of the Faith, the complaint, as your National Spiritual Assembly has indicated, should be submitted to the Local Spiritual Assembly, or as you state to a representative of the institution of the Counsellors, for consideration and action. In such cases, of course, the name of the person or persons involved will have to be mentioned.3
When considering if something you might say is back-biting or not, I ask whether it is important enough even to risk it. Back-biting is so horribly destructive to community life, it is often wiser just to leave the opinion unsaid, rather than express it and find out afterwards it is indeed “speaking ill of one who is absent”. The Guardian’s secretary wrote on his behalf:
On no subject are the Bahá’í teachings more emphatic than on the necessity to abstain from fault-finding and backbiting, while being ever eager to discover and root out our own faults and overcome our own failings.
The Writings refer to back-biting as “the worst human quality and the most great sin”; Bahá’u’lláh gives its prohibition in the same sentence as murder, theft and adultery; states that it “quencheth the light of the heart, and extinguisheth the life of the soul”; `Abdu’l-Bahá describes it as “the leading cause among the friends of a disposition to withdraw”; and labels it and fault-finding “the destroyers of the foundation of man”.
Finally, `Abdu’l-Bahá emphasizes in Bahá’í World Faith:
It is particularly important to refrain from making unfavourable remarks or statements concerning the friends and the loved ones of God, inasmuch as any expression of grievance, of complaint or backbiting is incompatible with the requirements of unity and harmony and would dampen the spirit of love, fellowship and nobility… Whoever sets himself to do so, even though he be the very embodiment of the Holy Spirit, should realize that such behaviour would create disruption among the people of Bahá and would cause the standard of sedition to be raised.
I have not found anything in the Writings that links back-biting with intent. That is, back-biting is the action of complaining about others, and it does not depend on why you complaining, unless you are consulting about an issue of serious concern and refrain from using the individual’s name.
For example, in this quote:
It is obvious that if we listen to those who complain to us about the faults of others we are guilty of complicity in their backbiting.4
It does not refer to the heart of the complainer, but his action. But how, really, could there be a spiritual way of mentioning the faults of another? What use could that possibly serve the spiritual life of the Faith?
How couldst thou forget thine own faults and busy thyself with the faults of others? Whoso doeth this is accursed of Me.5
Question: The other problem I have is when we mention peoples faults on this public forums is that backbiting? If so why?
As for “backbiting”, if they aren’t absent, I don’t see how it could be. However, avoidance of backbiting and fault-finding are very often expressed together:
O ye Cohorts of God! Beware lest ye offend the feelings of anyone, or sadden the heart of any person, or move the tongue in reproach of and finding fault with anybody, whether he is friend or stranger, believer or enemy.6
The friends must overlook their shortcomings and faults and speak only of their virtues and not their defects.7
On no subject are the Bahá’í teachings more emphatic than on the necessity to abstain from fault-finding and backbiting, while being ever eager to discover and root out our own faults and overcome our own failings.8
… Each of us is responsible for one life only, and that is our own. Each of us is immeasurably far from being ‘perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect’ and the task of perfecting our own life and character is one that requires all our attention, our will-power and energy. If we allow our attention and energy to be taken up in efforts to keep others right and remedy their faults, we are wasting precious time.9
I see the tendency to complain as a desire for perfection of the material world. However, our goal is not efficiency, or accuracy, or well-orderedness: The goal of the faith is to promote love and harmony amongst men.
Once such a love exists, sincere and strong, this world will take on the attributes of heaven. If this is truly our goal, it can be seen how much criticism and complaint, however “true” or “appropriate”, are ultimately counter to our goal. They should applied like a powerful medicine, too much of which will harm far more than it heals. When love is the rule, with its sin-covering eye, then, mystically and mysteriously, solutions will present themselves.
I have found this to be true in my personal life, where I thought for certain the only way to solve something was direct confrontation. But, after much thought, and requiring tremendous sacrifice of my hopes, I chose a different path. I can only describe as miraculous the way things worked out. “And whoso maketh efforts for Us, in Our ways will We guide them.”
I’d like to share with you a nice story from `Attár on this subject:
A young man, brave and impetuous as a lion, was for five years in love with a woman. In one of the eyes of this beauty was a small speck, but the man, when gazing on the beauty of his mistress, never saw it. How could a man, so much in love, notice a tiny flaw? However, in time, his love began to dwindle and he regained his power over himself. It was then he noticed the speck, and asked her how it had come about. She said: “It appeared at the time when your love began to cool. When your love for me became defective my eye became so for you.”10
Question: In addition I would like to hear some input from the friends on whether an Assembly member is backbiting in bringing to the Assembly a report of a community members violation of laws or other bad behaviors?
Perhaps this will help clarify the point:
There is a clear distinction between, on the one hand, the prohibition of backbiting, which would include adverse comments about individuals or institutions made to other individuals privately or publicly, and, on the other hand, the encouragement to unburden oneself of one’s concerns to a Spiritual Assembly, Local or National (or now, also, to confide in a Counsellor or Auxiliary Board member). Thus, although one of the principal functions of the Nineteen Day Feast is to provide a forum for “open and constructive criticism and deliberation regarding the state of affairs within the local Bahá’í community”, complaints about the actions of an individual member of an Assembly should be made directly and confidentially to the Assembly itself, not made to other individuals or even raised at a Nineteen Day Feast.11
Question: Person A has a dastardly deed done to them by person B, confides in person C and maybe D, because it helps them to talk about it. Is this backbiting?
We are permitted to consult with others after trauma if we keep it nameless.
If we say that the above is not backbiting (even though B’s name is being mentioned), where does it stop? What if person A feels the need to talk to E, F, G, H, I, J and K as well? What if they never feel “resolved”, and keep spreading news of B’s misdeeds for years to come?
The Bahá’í standard is not an easy one. Nor is the eradication of backbiting easy. It requires sacrificing some of our cherished sources of emotional comfort, like retelling the wrongs done to us by others — usually to a spouse.
Yet this is a noble sacrifice we’re called to: An effort we’ll someday lay at the feet of our Beloved as a token of our love and faith. Each time you must swallow the pain, realize you are sharing Bahá’u’lláh’s pain, as He suffered untold indignities heaped upon Him by a cruel and corrupt nation.
Question: Person X warns person Y about dealings with Person Z because Person X has had very bad experiences with person Z and wouldn’t like personal harm to come to person Y.
We are permitted to bring issues of concern to an Assembly or Board Member, not to individuals.
In the case of individuals, the above is backbiting. Remember: If no exception is given to a Law, no exception exists. Unless the Writings allow us to relay the misdeeds of a person for the protection of another, we cannot. I am certainly open to anyone pointing out such an exemption, but in my studies have not found one.
Again, take it to the extreme degree: If Z has harmed X, and we allow X to complain to Y, where does it stop? Wouldn’t X start warning everyone who gets close to Z? Pretty soon, the whole community starts hearing about the misdeeds of Z, “for the protection of the community”. But such protection is the Assembly’s job, not the individual’s.
Furthermore, who gets to decide how “bad” a bad experience must be before it is shareable? If we take the issue to an Assembly, they can consult and decide; but if we allow ourselves that latitude, where does it stop?
Here is an example of how my community dealt with a similar issue: Apparently, someone was slighted in the matter of a loan or debt. I never learned which. I only know because the Assembly, at Feast, announced that anyone considering a loan to or from another Bahá’í should consult with the Assembly first.
Why would they say this? Because someone had acted unjustly, but rather than point out the injustice, they asked everyone to clear their financial dealings with the Assembly, allowing them to protect the community from unwise agreements.
I thought this was an excellent way of protecting the community from injustice, without having to bring up anyone misdeeds. There are ways to cope with even difficult issues that do not involve accusation or retelling of faults. It requires patience, love, faith to find them, but they are there.
Statement: When it comes to backbiting, I do not believe that structure and rules are of much use. I believe backbiting is more about sincerity than it is about tangibles. Motivation and intentions I believe are very key. I believe this subconscious is very important in backbiting.
I would be interested if you would present guidance which supporting this view. I have heard it suggested before, yet nowhere have I read that back-biting is defined by one’s motivations and intentions.
Murder is certainly not, nor theft or adultery, or any other of the crimes listed in the Aqdas. Perhaps there is a tendency toward leniency with backbiting, because it is easier to fall into and harder to stop? And yet, the damage caused by backbiting is terrible:
For the tongue is a smouldering fire, and excess of speech a deadly poison. Material fire consumeth the body, whereas the fire of the tongue devoureth both heart and soul. The force of the former lasteth but for a time, whilst the effects of the latter endure a century.
Here are the quotes I see as denying us such speech:
If anyone should speak ill of one who is absent…
The tongue I have designed for the mention of Me, defile it not with detraction.
Speak no evil, that thou mayest not hear it spoken unto thee, and magnify not the faults of others that thine own faults may not appear great; and wish not the abasement of anyone, that thine own abasement be not exposed.
How couldst thou forget thine own faults and busy thyself with the faults of others? Whoso doeth this is accursed of Me.
Breathe not the sins of others so long as thou art thyself a sinner. Shouldst thou transgress this command, accursed wouldst thou be, and to this I bear witness.
Ascribe not to any soul that which thou wouldst not have ascribed to thee…
That seeker should also regard backbiting as grievous error, and keep himself aloof from its dominion, inasmuch as backbiting quencheth the light of the heart, and extinguisheth the life of the soul.
These quotes, to my eyes, describe actions, not intentions.
In our speech, we have been asked to eschew: conflict, contention, strife, harm to the feelings of another, excess criticism, detraction, slander, harsh words, unfavourable remarks, speaking ill of the world’s leaders, grievance against another…
Instead, Bahá’ís are called to remark to the world the bounties and attributes of God, and share that Light which alone can resuscitate the fortunes of the world.
The Great Being saith: One word may be likened unto fire, another unto light, and the influence which both exert is manifest in the world. Therefore an enlightened man of wisdom should primarily speak with words as mild as milk, that the children of men may be nurtured and edified thereby and may attain the ultimate goal of human existence which is the station of true understanding and nobility. And likewise He saith: One word is like unto springtime causing the tender saplings of the rose-garden of knowledge to become verdant and flourishing, while another word is even as a deadly poison.12
Of course, the observance of these Laws is ultimately determined by the conscience of each believer, since there is not — and I hope will never be — a police force to guard against backbiting. After all, obedience is one of the precious things we can offer God, to One Who is already the Possessor of All.
I leave this discussion with the following thought: When determining whether backbiting is forbidden, there are numerous quotations from each of the Central Figures on this matter. But as for justifying what appears to be backbiting, have you noticed that no quotations are ever given? Did no one pose these questions in the past? Or is it that the answer has always been the same?
Common sense is an excellent tool, and I hope we accord it the respect it deserves: but neither more nor less than this.
1. `Abdu’l-Bahá, from Lights of Guidance no.323
2. Selections from the Writings of `Abdu’l-Bahá, p. 92
3. From a letter written on behalf of the Universal House of Justice to an individual believer, September 23, 1975
4. From a letter written on behalf of Shoghi Effendi to the National Spiritual Assembly of the British Isles, February 11, 1925
5. Bahá’u’lláh, Hidden Words, Arabic no.26
6. Tablets of `Abdu’l-Bahá, p. 45
7. Abdu’l-Bahá: Tablet to Dr. M. G. Skinner, August 12, 1913: Star of the West, Vol. IV, No. 11, p. 192
8. From a letter written on behalf of the Guardian to an individual believer, May 12, 1925: Living the Life, p. 3
9. From a letter written on behalf of the Guardian to an individual believer, May 12, 1925: Living the Life, pp. 2-3
10. Farídu’d-Dín `Attár, Conference of the Birds
11. Universal House of Justice, compilation on Study, July 2, 1996
12. Bahá’u’lláh
In the valley of Search, one seeks out an entrance, looks for some secret that will open the door, like pursuing a person we fancy, trying anything to gain some interest.
Then the eyes that Intended One look toward us, and the realization of possibility kindles a hope that turns the world upside down. What does anything matter now? The Beloved has acknowledged you.
By immersing one’s self in the problem of remoteness and proximity, the differentiation between this world and that — the land of the servant and the plane of the King — becomes more plain. It is seen that time and place are not real, but perceptions of the ego’s experience, like light playing on the eyes. When these two falsehoods fade away, and the vision of the seeker transcends its limitations, then beginning and ending are one; you have already achieved your goal. The Beloved is near enough to be called your own self.
The fish has now returned to the Ocean, and there is no question of “Where is God?” As the perceptive faculties develop, and spiritual vision of faith becomes more real, it is seen how all evidences of distinction proceed from the understanding of the individual, and are not related to the Infinite. In a sense, the world we see is the manifestation of our own ignorance. As we see it, good is contending with evil, and there are always battles. Yet beyond all hindrances of vision, evil is as directly related to the Truth as good.
At this point there is no more striving, and nothing leads astray. Perfect contentment ensues. Where can the lover’s eye turn that he does not witness the beauty of the Beloved? Every breath is a kiss, every breeze an embrace. Whatever his outward condition, such a seeker is content with both life and death. Nothing gives, nothing takes away. His very existence is his bountiful food.
Finally, because he has sated the passions of knowing, the heart of the seeker is prepared to receive. And now from the cold night a fiery dawn emerges, and the spring rains begin to descend from the winter peaks. With all this flooding of light the heart of the lover is thrown about, because he is only a mite in a vast world. Everything he knew was only the beginning of knowledge; and, having thought himself satisfied, he finds that it was only the bliss of ignorance, whereas now he must contend with awe. This is the babe birthing from the womb, and the dreamer awakening. The world he sees now exceeds his imagination.
Through all this, it finally pervades his soul that he is less than nothing — even non-existent. Placing upon himself the cloak of faná, he returns to the Ocean as a single drop, and is gone. Yet, through his form be lost, his essence is not destroyed, and the world still receives his benefit. When a cow defecates in the garden, are we later able to the dirt and say, “Look, there it is?” The form is lost, but the essence remains, and imparts its properties to the soil. So it is that the body has form, but no essence, and the soul has essence, but no form. In trapping our consciousness within the limited frame of our life-conception — which is based initially on our material experiences — we divide ourselves from the nature of our origin, and become like a ray of sunlight buried in a cave. This is illusion. It is we who bind ourselves to that cave through a false sense of requirement, since we are unfamiliar with the nature of things. When we relinquish all feelings of knowledge, and divest ourselves of concepts even as basic as existence itself, our spirit is freed, and we find that nothing was holding there but our belief that we should have been.
Freed of space, the soul is a part now of both sun and earth; freed of time, there is on question of proceeding; freed of knowledge, the prison bars are shattered, and we enter a world where what we had known as nothing was not even so stable as false conjecture; and freed of limits, we resume our place in the Infinite, and there is nothing left but the will of the Creator. Questions of purpose are relative to where, when and why; but to that world, this place is such madness that questions are their own answers. And thus the journey is begun.
The Seven Valleys was written by Bahá’u’lláh near the 1860s. In it He responds to questions from a certain Shaykh Muhyi’d-Din, who at one point was a judge in the town of Khániqih. This Shaykh was a member of the Qadiri order of Sufis, who follow the mystical teachings of Shaykh Abdu’l-Qadir Jilani and his spiritual descendants. We know only that he asked Bahá’u’lláh about the meaning of certain mystical poems, to which the Seven Valleys was Bahá’u’lláh’s response. The actual questions he asked are not known.
This text is a mystical composition of the highest order. Singled out by Shoghi Effendi, Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith, as Bahá’u’lláh’s “greatest mystical composition”1, it provides a commentary on an earlier work of Sufi poetry, The Conference of the Birds, by Farídu’d-Dín `Attár.
The style of the Seven Valleys is highly poetic, though not composed in verse. Nearly every line of the text contains rhymes, and plays on words, which are mostly lost in translation. In addition to these subtleties there are also historical and religious connotations that are equally difficult to translate. It was a common practice for Sufis to communicate by using only one or a few words to refer to Qur’anic verses, traditions, and well-known poems. The language of the Seven Valleys refers to this wealth of knowledge possessed by its recipient without stating its meaning verbosely. As a result, those reading the text who have no background in Islam or Sufism will find many of its references confusing, and some of the sentences perhaps devoid of meaning. Each word, however, is rich with shades of meaning that become apparent upon deeper examination.
The recipient of the text was a Sufi, conversant with the doctrines of Qádirí Sufism, and possessing knowledge of the previous works Bahá’u’lláh responds to. It is no wonder that an economy of words is used between two men who knew their subject matter in depth. This implied knowledge, however, is greatly lost to the Western reader — even more so when rendered in the English idiom. It would require constant footnotes to alert the reader to all the key phrases that appear in this text. In English, these phrases have no more significance than others; yet where Bahá’u’lláh uses a term like “maqaam-i-tuwhiid”, it is no less important than “resurrection” or “salvation” would be to a Christian. Specific words conjure whole bodies of context — yet this conjuration is absent in translation.
Briefly, Sufism is a branch of Islam which seeks to know of God directly, through ecstatic, mystical union.
> Wouldst thou that the mind should not entrap thee?
Teach it the science of the love of God!
“The purpose of the Sufi is to seek union with God through ecstasy.”2 The nature of this union differs among Sufis, some believing they become co-eternal with God’s essence (Hulúlis), others that they merely become absorbed in the immanence of His Manifestation (such as when a drop merges with the sea).
The Sufi discipline is one of purification (tazkíyyih) and remembrance (dhikr). Prayer, meditation and fasting are key. Some also practice asceticism. The purpose of these practices is to draw the interests of the self away from the world and toward God. In this way, divine love is enkindled:
“Show us the right way, that is, honor us with the love of Thine Essence, that we may be freed from turning toward ourselves and toward all else save Thee, and may become wholly Thine, and know only Thee, and see only Thee, and think of none save Thee.”
By this love all things are burned away, leading to state of self-annihilating ecstasy. This condition is increased until the lover loses all consciousness of self (faná), and becomes “nothing in God”. When this is achieved, the seeker experiences eternal union (baqá), which is an abiding, conscious experience of the Divine.
During this process, the seeker’s vision and experience of the world change dramatically. The way he perceives and understands events progressively deepens:
Thus it hath been made clear that these stages depend on the vision of the wayfarer. In every city he will behold a world, in every Valley reach a spring, in every meadow hear a song.
Sufis are guided along this journey by their joy. As they experience happiness and ecstasy, they believe themselves to be moving in the right direction. It is sometimes referred to as a science of taste (dhawq), where actions are measured by the visceral experiences they produce.
Sufism might be called the Way of Love, as expressed by one of its more famous teachers, Rabi’a:
I love Thee with two loves: love of my happiness and perfect love — to love Thee as is Thy due.
This love produces a spiritual heat, which is fanned into flame to consume the veils of self, allowing the soul to transcend its limitations and achieve union with God. Once found, the soul has attained “the next life”, and thus Sufis speak more about the distinction between self and God than they do this world and an afterlife. For them, both worlds are wrapped up in the seeker.
Bahá’u’lláh introduces many changes to this scheme. The path of Sufism, as a Way of Love and approaching God through ecstasy, can be found in Bahá’í teachings, but with these differences:
The seeker’s path is mainly one of vision, in which the veils are burnt away and the heart purified until the lights of the Divine are clearly reflected in it. This leads to a stage where the seeker “believes the being of the created world to be the same as God’s being”. However, this doctrine is identified with neither monism nor pantheism. There is a oneness of being which embraces both Oneness of Being (tuwhiid-i wujuudii) and Oneness of Manifestation (tuwhiid-i shuhuudii). As Bahá’u’lláh says of the seeker:
In this Valley [of faná], the wayfarer leaveth behind him the stages of the “oneness of Being and Manifestation” and reacheth a oneness that is sanctified above these two stations. Ecstasy alone can encompass this theme, not utterance nor argument; and whosoever hath dwelt at this stage of the journey, or caught a breath from this garden land, knoweth whereof We speak.
The Seven Valleys was written to a member of the Qadiri Sufi order. Since he was a follower of Sufism, Bahá’u’lláh revealed the Seven Valleys in that language, using those concepts, though without fixing those concepts into absolute realities. Since the Manifestation uses whatever language will best reach our understanding, it is helpful in grasping the message of the Seven Valleys to understand a bit of the Sufi scheme.
All effort begins with the self who desires to know God, and who recognizes that its remoteness is due to its own ignorance and negligence (the blaming soul). Such a soul knows only that it is thirsty, but little else.
The Sufis view the self as having four different aspects: nafs, qalb, ruh and sirr. Some also see a fifth part, the aql, or rational intellect. All Sufi “practice”, in so far as it concerns the seeker himself, is concerned with purification. The remainder of Sufi practice, which deals wholly with God, is given to remembrance and the ecstasy of contemplation. However, since this ecstasy is impeded by impurities, the self is given some degree of attention.
Each of the four parts of the self is purified by different means:
The nafs is mostly viewed as the individual self, and the lower self. It is that part which turns away from God, or desires to become a partner with Him. The nafs is developed by aligning its will with the will of God, and as this happens, the development of the other parts is made possible. The nafs is seen as progressing through up to seven stages, which `Abdu’l-Bahá expands to nine.
The maturation of the nafs along these stages happens in two phases: the momentary vision of states (haal) and the achievement of a permanent consciousness (maqaam) which cannot regress. It is these stages which the Seven Valleys describe.
The qalb, or the heart, is where the divine realities appear in the human being. The qalb can be dominating by the nafs, or it can serve to reflect the ruh (spirit).
The sirr (secret) is vewied as “the centre of inner consciousness where perceptual contact with the Divine is accomplished.”3 This may be compared with the “third eye”, or inner sight.
Some Sufism hold to two higher spiritual faculties: Khafi (the arcane), which is the bond between the ruh and God; and Akhfa (the most arcane), which is complete immersion in the Absolute.
These aspects of the self relate to the “divine worlds”:
The nafs, related to the lower and physical self, is in Nasut, the mortal world. The qalb, the seat of inspiration and the dawning place of divine attributes, is in Malakut (the realm of God’s lordship). The ruh, which emanates like a ray from the perfect Sun, is in Jabarut (the realm of God’s dominion). The sirr, which is the higher self, and khafi, the arcane, are in Lahut (the realm of the Divine). And the Akhfa is in Hahut (the realm of God’s own being).4
“So, in these four “organs” or faculties: Nafs, Qalb, Sirr and Ruh, and the purificative activities applied to them, the basic orthodox Sufi psychology is contained. The purification of elementary passionate nature (Tazkiya-I-Nafs), followed by cleansing of the spiritual heart so that it may acquire a mirror-like purity of reflection (Tazkiya-I-Qalb) and become the receptacle of God’s love (Ishq), fortified by emptying of egoic drives (Taqliyya-I-Sirr) and remembrance of God’s attributes (Dhikr), gloriously ending in illumination of the spirit (Tajjali-I-Ruh)- this is the essential Sufi spiritual journey. Other spiritual faculties, like Khafi (the arcane) and Akhfa (the most arcane) are employed in other Sufi orders like Naqshbandi, but this is beyond general basic consensus.”5
In summary: The nafs is purified by the governing of our passionate nature; then the qalb may be purified and cleansed, and become the receptacle of God’s love; then the inner eye may be opened and directed toward God; then the spirit becomes illumined and manifests Godly attributes:
In addition to using specific terminology, the language of the Seven Valleys is highly stylized. It creates a tone that would have a strong resonance to a Muslim ear. For example, though a very small fraction of words in the Arabic lexicon are used in the Qur’an, Bahá’u’lláh makes frequent use of words of Qur’anic origin. When He speaks of the “seeker”, He does so using several different terms, all of which can be found in the Qur’an. This might seem insignificant, except that although Arabic claims over a million unique words, the Qur’an only uses about two thousand of them.
Muslim writers have compiled the thematic words of the Qur’an — such as those that refer to “seeking” — and ranked them according to their frequency and context of use. Some commentators have attempted to refine the definition of these words based on their patterns of usage within the Qur’anic. That Bahá’u’lláh would choose so many terms from the Qur’an must have had quite an impact on his reader, who would have known these terms and their history well.
Some words in Sufism are so specific that differing schools within Sufism cannot entirely agree on their meaning. One of these is “nafs”, a word Bahá’u’lláh uses often in the Seven Valleys. It can be translated into English as “self” or “soul”, but without the same difference in meaning that English places between these two. Of real significance is the Sufi’s relationship to his nafs, and how he has spent decades struggling to purify and conquer the nafs. Countless stories and illustrations exist to depict the nafs; whole treatises describe the stages of defeating the nafs. The battle against nafs has to do with the greater jihad, or the believer’s battle over himself. Yet none of this richness is conveyed in either of the words “self” or “soul”.
“Self”, by conjuring psychological and religious history, has similar gravity to “nafs”, but the two bodies of reference only partially overlap. When “nafs” is translated as “soul” in other places, it makes it hard to reconcile with “self”. The two meanings are not so contradictory in the original. Although “self” often contrasts with “soul” in English, “nafs” contrasts with “ruh” in Sufism — even though “ruh” can be translated as “soul” as well (though more often as “spirit”).
Since translation cannot replace years of study and experience, and since the Western reader cannot steep himself in a nineteenth century khaniq — to capture the feelings it must have evoked in its original audience — we are left with a work whose density can only be appreciated through loving attention and time. Its spiritual message is free from the barriers of language, but the specifics of its language are not free from historical context. To appreciate the text, in addition to its import, we must transport ourselves mentally to another place and time.
First, it is important to realize that Sufis envisioned the soul as passing through several perceptual stages before reaching its goal of union with God. At each stage, the seeker must purify and focus himself in order to pierce the veils surrounding him and thus succeed to the next stage. One of the values of using “stages” is that they offer a way to measure progress, and ensure that the seeker does not blithely imagine he has seen all there is to see.
Bahá’u’lláh uses a seven-fold scheme in His book, but does not confirm that there are in fact seven stages. He says only that the valleys “are said to be seven”, and makes other equally indirect statements. In some of His other books He even expands on certain stages beyond the Seven, or explains similar truths using other schemes altogether (cf. The Four Valleys).
He goes even further to say that placing emphasis on such stages, rather than on God, is to miss the mark:
Much hath been written in the books of old concerning the various stages in the development of the soul, such as concupiscence, irascibility, inspiration, benevolence, contentment, Divine good-pleasure, and the like; the Pen of the Most High, however, is disinclined to dwell upon them. Every soul that walketh humbly with its God, in this Day, and cleaveth unto Him, shall find itself invested with the honor and glory of all goodly names and stations.7
The focus is meant to be solely on God, the Beloved — all good proceeds from this. Some Sufis writers believed this also, berating others for becoming too occupied with “spiritual stations”. They can be a useful tool to find the Path, but are not to be confused with the Goal.
Since the Seven Valleys follows a somewhat traditional Sufi scheme, some understanding of Sufism will aid in understanding the language and progression of the Valleys. First, Sufis divide between two types of spiritual movement: states (hál) and stations (maqám). A state is a momentary experience, prompted by the grace of God, taking the believer to unexperienced spiritual heights for a short time. The purpose of these states is to inspire the soul to seek God more ardently, and to prove to him he still has further to go. Stations, on the other hand, are a direct result of the seeker’s striving and do not regress. These are perfections which, once attained, cannot be undone, since they constitute an extension of vision. Once the eyes are opened and behold a certain reality, the impression of what was seen cannot be removed. `Abdu’l-Bahá says:
All creation, whether of the mineral, vegetable or animal kingdom, is compelled to obey the law of motion; it must either ascend or descend. But with the human soul, there is no decline. Its only movement is towards perfection; growth and progress alone constitute the motion of the soul.8
There are three maqámát encompassed by the Seven Valleys: the station of limitation (tahdíd), which comprises the first three Valleys; the station of unity (tawhíd), which covers the next three; and the station of “faná and baqá” which are found in the last Valley (faná and baqá are described below):
Bahá’u’lláh, like `Attár, calls His seven stages “valleys” in several places, but uses other terms as well. He refers to the Valley of Unity as the beginning of “maqaam-i-tuw.hiid”, or the station of unity (described above). Other than this, the Valley of Unity is not described as a unique station, but rather the beginning of this station. The previous valleys are collectively referred to as “maqaam-i-ta.hdiid” in this verse where the Valley of Unity is introduced:
saalik ba`d az seyr-i vaadii-i ma`rifat kih aakhir-i maqaam-i ta.hdiid ast bi-avval-i maqaam-i tuw.hiid vaa.sil shavad
In the English the currently accepted translation is:
After passing through the Valley of knowledge, which is the last plane of limitation, the wayfarer cometh to the Valley of Unity…
Yet translated literally it renders as:
The wayfarer, after the journey of the valley of knowledge — which is the end of maqaam-i-ta.hdiid — cometh to the beginning of maqaam-i-tuw.hiid
The Valley of Unity is a dividing line between two larger stations: Knowledge marking the end of maqaam-i-ta.hdiid, and Unity beginning maqaam-i-tuw.hiid. The valleys after unity — contentment and wonderment — precede the station of faná and baqá, which is the seventh valley. That valley is described as “the dying from self and the living in God”, which in the orignal uses the terms fanaa and baqaa:
iin rutbih maqaam-i fanaa-i az nafs va biqaa-i bi-al-llah ast
“This level [the seventh valley] marks the station of abandoning self (faná) and abiding in God (baqá).”
As the seeker moves from stage to stage, his vision becomes more penetrating until he is able to see God within the realities of all things. “…these stages depend on the vision of the wayfarer.” Since this is a journey of vision, there is no concept of time or distance that can be made to fit. As suddenly as the inner eyes are opened, the journey is complete. To “finish” the Seven Valleys, say the Sufis, ends the first part of the soul’s journey, “the journey to God”, and begins the second part — which is endless — “the journey in God”.
Making progress on the journey requires “steps” which are actually advances in degrees of attention9. As the seeker pays closer and closer attention to the Book of Reality, he discerns more of the secrets written on its pages. “He beholdeth in illusion the secret of reality, and readeth from the attributes the riddle of the Essence.” At first time is a barrier, requiring patience; then pain, which needs a lover’s eagerness to endure whatever is demanded by his love; and finally evil, which tests the soul’s faith in a perfect and loving Creator.
Passing these initial stages frees the seeker from looking at reality according to his own limitations, and transports him to a station where “none shall contemplate anything whatsoever but that he shall see God therein.” At that point his faith is complete, and he passes beyond the need for tests. He has proved his devotion: “This station conferreth the true standard of knowledge, and freeth man from tests.” All fear is banished from his heart since he now knows: “All things are of God”.
When there is no more fear, the heart is open to learning the true secrets of love (“Love never dwelleth in a heart possessed by fear”). That is, the seeker moves from his earlier form of love, which was love for God exclusive of the world, to the realm of unity, where his love for God embraces all His works. He enters the Kingdom of God, makes his dwelling place in heaven, and eats of the fruits of paradise. Here there is perfect contentment, and all that happens is in accordance with the seeker’s pleasure10.
However, this love itself can be a veil, since it blinds the seeker from realizing that he is at unity even with the One Whom he loves. When the seeker himself disappears, he enters a condition of annihilation in the presence of God — faná — the way a candle’s flame vanishes before the sun. Although this state is nothingness in relation to the seeker, it is baqá (eternity, subsistence) in relation to God. “This is the plane whereon the vestiges of all things are destroyed in the traveler…”
These stations are a process of removing veils; they do not yet concern the Reality beyond those veils. A sleeper must remove the covers from his bed to waken, but the process of removing those covers has little to do with the waking world. So these stages that relate to uncovering the eyes do not consider what is seen when they are fully opened. That world is infinite and without end — another justification for sometimes translating the baqá as “eternity”. Such begins the “journey in God”.
This process of awakening is meant to take place within this life. In a hadith is says, “die before you die”. Also, the kingdoms encountered by the seeker — heaven, paradise and the like — exist in the world around us. Since they are perceptual worlds, they cannot be separated in terms of time or space. Life and death are metaphors for the life of faith and the death of unbelief. To die and be born again in heaven is a description of what happens when the seeker dies from self and awakens to appreciate the manifold wonders of God’s creation. To consider that these stations are beyond an ordinary person’s reach, or that we must wait until physical death to approach them, places too much importance on the body and attempts to connect what is timeless to a specific temporal event.
What is needed to progress is the grace of God. As `Abdu’l-Bahá tells us, man has complete freedom in choosing to undertake the journey but cannot move if left unassisted by God: “…the inaction or the movement of man depend upon the assistance of God. If he is not aided, he is not able to do either good or evil.”11 Thus prayer and meditation, supplication to God, are extremely effective tools for progressing along the spiritual Path: “… the core of religious faith is that mystic feeling which unites Man with God. This state of spiritual communion can be brought about and maintained by means of meditation and prayer.”12
Thus assisted, one may come to behold the perfect love expressed by the creation around us. Until we learn the meaning of true love, we cannot appreciate what the world really represents: “If thou lovest Me not, My love can in no wise reach thee.”
I therefore reveal unto thee sacred and resplendent tokens from the planes of glory, to attract thee into the court of holiness and nearness and beauty, and draw thee to a station wherein thou shalt see nothing in creation save the Face of thy Beloved One, the Honored, and behold all created things only as in the day wherein none hath a mention.13
1. Shoghi Effendi, God Passes By, p.140
2. http://www.astro.gr/Rabi’a/Islam/sufi.htm
3. http://www.kheper.net/topics/Islamic_esotericism/psychology.html
4. This delineation is that described by the Naqshbandis.
5. http://www.campusprogram.com/reference/en/wikipedia/s/su/sufism.html
6. based on http://www.crescentlife.com/spirituality/four_stages_of_tazkiyyah.htm
7. Bahá’u’lláh, Gleanings, p.159
8. `Abdu’l-Bahá, Paris Talks, p.89
9. “Bahá’u’lláh has stated that the meaning of step or pace in this context is ‘Tavajjoh’, paying attention or concentrating (Má’idiy-i-çsimání, Vol.8, p.22)” — Iraj Ayman
10. cf. “The Accepting Soul”, as described by `Abdu’l-Bahá in His commentary on the Suriy-i-Rúm.
11. `Abdu’l-Bahá, Some Answered Questions, p.249
12. Shoghi Effendi, Directives from the Guardian, p.86
13. Bahá’u’lláh, The Seven Valleys, p.3
At the moment the soul was created, it knew of its Creator. Some Muslims refer to this pre-existent relationship with God as “rúz-i-alast”, or the day when God asked us, “Am I not your Lord?” The Bahá’í Writings likewise mention an earlier time when we knew of God:
O My Friends! Have ye forgotten that true and radiant morn, when in those hallowed and blessed surroundings ye were all gathered in My presence beneath the shade of the tree of life, which is planted in the all-glorious paradise?1
Our soul is said to be “the first among all created things to declare the excellence of its Creator, the first to recognize His glory, to cleave to His truth, and to bow down in adoration before Him.”2 In essence, the soul of man is a lover, created in a state of primal adoration. We became thus because the Loved One deserves a lover. There is an Islamic tradition that says, “I was a Hidden Treasure. I wished to be made known, and thus I called creation into being in order that I might be known.” In this sense, we are part of a divine cycle of going and returning, in which the Beloved casts out His lovers, and then summons them to return according to their own desire. This “expulsion from paradise”, from our original state, is so that each lover may demonstrate himself by proving his devotion through trial and long-suffering.
His purpose, however, is to enable the pure in spirit and the detached in heart to ascend, by virtue of their own innate powers, unto the shores of the Most Great Ocean, that thereby they who seek the Beauty of the All-Glorious may be distinguished and separated from the wayward and perverse.3
That we began in the divine world, and subsequently “fell” into a condition of material existence — with all its potential for distraction and error — is not only referenced many times in Scripture, but also by some philosophies. Plato describes our original state in quite poetic terms:
… Beauty it was ours to see in all its brightness in those days when, amidst that happy company, we beheld with our eyes that blessed vision, ourselves in the train of Zeus, others following some other god; then were we all initiated into that mystery which is rightly accounted blessed beyond all others; whole and unblemished were we that did celebrate it, untouched by the evils that awaited us in days to come; whole and unblemished likewise, free from all alloy, steadfast and blissful were the spectacles on which we gazed in the moment of final revelation; pure was the light that shone around us, and pure were we, without taint of that prison house which now we are encompassed withal, and call a body, fast bound therein as an oyster in its shell. (Plato)
Since our parentage is divine, being that we were “created in His image”, we long for the divine; since we are lovers, we pine for reunion with our long-lost Love. This is our constant state of being, and all our fundamental motivations stem from it. What differs between individuals is the understanding of how to find what we seek, and whether our vision is clear enough when we do come across it.
From my own meditations, the soul would seem to be a creature of pure awareness, not ha