Pilgrimage to Haifa and Akka:

Notes Part One text

Pilgrimage to Haifa

William Sears

This is the part of the pilgrimage with which we are most familiar in “Pilgrim’s Notes”. This is the pilgrimage of what the Guardian said at the dinner table. We have utri86\t0 record as faithfully as possible and in a much detail as possible the substance of the dinner table conversation.

What a unique and rewarding experience. There we begin to understand the meaning of Nabil’s words about the moments the believers spent with Baha’u’llah, in Baghdad and we echoed them, “O for the joy of those days, and the gladness and wonder of those hours!”

The Guardian’s first words, the first night, were about the urgency of teaching ether. This was a subject about which he spoke in great detail. After a loving welcome, recorded elsewhere, the Guardian spoke to us as follows: The pioneers have come to Africa, he said, in order to increase the number of native Africans in the Cause. We want them to become members of Assemblies. If our presence makes trouble for the African, te1l them we will migrate and move on.

We have come to help, not to hinder. We must efface ourselves. The Negro has been subservient in the past, now we must be. We have come so serve them. We must make them understand and believe this by our actions, not our words.

The British went to Africa for their own advantage, not that of the native African. The missionaries have not gone to Africa because they love the African. But, this is the one and only reason that the Baha’is have gone. They primarily have to think of the African. If they fail to do this, they will have failed in their mission, and it would have been better if they had not come to Africa at all.”

If we are true lovers of the Cause, we must love the African.

First, because of their purity of heart; second, because they are downtrodden; third, because they have suffered so much. We must serve them, nothing else and our statements must be confirmed by our actions.

The test of our teaching is the reaction or the Africans to us. If the reaction is good, our method is good. If they do not respond, our method is wrong.

The Guardian said that he does not want too many whites in Africa.

It is very risky to approach the whites in Africa, particularly in South Africa.

We must concentrate on the element which is in the majority in each country. We want the people to testify that the Faith has touched the hearts of the clement that is the majority.

Find out what they did in Uganda and emulate it. You will find that it was small things that have touched the hearts. Not speeches, but love. South Africa will be more difficult, but the principles of approach is the same. South Africa is most difficult. The most difficult countries have been given to the United States. Find out what was done in Uganda and time follow this example.

The Guardian constantly re-emphasized the urgent need for teaching the native African people. This is the main objective of the pioneers at all times, he said. Whatever other administrative tasks we may have to accomplish, underlying them all is the vital, pressing importance of reaching the native African, not the European, unless we recognize this paramount obligation, so have completely misunderstood the purpose for our presence in South Africa.

Our work or consolidation should proceed as follows, he said: First, a local Assembly in Johannesburg, fifteen, fourteen, or thirteen stalwart believers can hold it, then the rest should scatter. Second, a local Assembly in Cape Town. Third, isolated believers, then groups, then Assemblies in the large centers - Durban, East London, Port Elizabeth, Pretoria, Bloemfontein. Always going hand in hand with this is the pressing responsibility of reaching the African people. They are the ones who will have to take over the administration of the affairs of the Faith in South Africa. They will be the ones who will eventually make up the Assemblies in these areas. Then the white believers should disperse and scatter and begin the process all over again in a new area. Uganda is the spiritual heart of the Continent. It has been the center of the activity. It is because of love and lack of prejudice or any kind that the work has progressed so rapidly there. The concentration was on the native African. This is the emphasis that must be followed in South Africa. Center all our energies on reaching the African people.

The Guardian spoke several times in praise of the work in Uganda.

It is important, he said, to understand that the real reason for the tremendous accomplishments of Uganda was that there was a Hand of the Cause there. The Hand, he told us, was the spiritual heart of the teaching work, just as Uganda was the spiritual heart of the continent. The Hand of the Cause in Africa, he said, was absolutely without prejudice and possessed a truly pure heart.

We must emulate Uganda. It will do more difficult, but the principle will be the same.

Establishing a Hasirat’ul-Quds is important. It was the rallying centre for all the work in Uganda. Soon it will be the center for the Central and East African work, a national regional center. In South Africa this will be more difficult as the white and black cannot meet together. Having a center is essential, but it must be done wisely.

If the number of African believers becomes so great that they can form their own Assembly, and they have deepened sufficiently to conduct their own affairs, this would be splendid. They could meet together and have a Halisat’ul-Quds; in their area. Then the white believers could move on to a new area and begin the teaching process in a new place.

We want, he said several times, a solid mass of African believers.

We have been thinking too much about the white race and not enough about mankind in general, he said. Row is our chance to contribute our share to the conversion of these races.

We must work in order to have the majority of believers belong to these races. Only love can do this. Complete elimination of our own wishes and supplanting these with service to the African. This is the keynote to be sounded.

Teaching has stagnated in America because of materialism. The American Negro has caught the disease from the whites. The American Negro does not want to go to Africa. They do not want to give up their possessions and their materialism. Africa is not like that. There, the African are more detached. The Americans love the Cause, but they not love the Negro.

Shoghi Effendi said, the ratio of Negroes to whites in the Cause in America was about one to five. The ratio of Negroes to whites in the country was about one to ten. The ratio in the Cause was good. The ratio was fine, he said, but the rate of increase was very slow.

The spread of the Cause among both Negro and whites in America had stagnated because of lack of love. We must love the Cause truly; he said we will do this if we love God truly. ‘Abdu’l-Baha always said that the believers must have this truly, we will love His children and we will love most of all the downtrodden among His children. The most essential thing: is to have the love of God in your heart.

This complete lack of prejudice will attract the African. We must prefer them to ourselves. Wherever possible, whenever possible, we must accept them into our homes. Hot accept them on the platform or yet public functions, but privately in our homes on a social basis, sand on a basis of absolute equality. In fact we must not demonstrate just equality. We must show them preference. For two reasons: First, they are a minority and the Faith wishes to increase minorities and protect them. Second, because of the attitude of the world in the past.

The balance must be restored. This is the most effective way to teach the Faith - demonstrate a complete absence of any prejudice. Learn to demonstrate it without being aware that you are demonstrating it.

Shoghi Effendi said that as soon as the local Assembly in Johannesburg formed, it must area keep as eye on the work in the rest of the southern part of the continent. It is a local Assembly, but it is a embryonic Regional National Assembly. It must always think in these larger terms. It is the most important center in South Africa.

It is a local Assembly, but it must immediately have a wider viewpoint.

It must think in regional National Assemb1y terms from the beginning and must have this larger viewpoint. The believers there, when the numbers are sufficient, must disperse not only to South Africa, but (if needed and it is possible) to Northern and Southern Rhodesia, Mozambique, Angola Nyasaland, South West Africa, Bechuanaland, Swaziland, Zululand and Basutoland.

When we approach the Negroes in Africa for the first time, they are open-minded. Nothing must be done to discourage them or disillusion them.

It will be very difficult to establish confidence if it is once lost. We must meet all situations and suspicions with pure motives and love, otherwise they will see no difference, and we will be classified with the missionaries. The Negro Baha’is in Africa will have “tests”. The whites must help them. We must test them thoroughly. We must make them eager to serve the Faith and than our task is finished and we must leave. We should say to them “We have come for one purpose only; we have come from America to serve you” This is the message in a nutshell, the message to take back to South Africa. We must serve them and convince them that it is so, that it stems from love - from a desire to aid them to know God and to serve Him. We have come to enlist them under the banner of Baha’u’l1ah.

Select a few careful1y and then teach them thoroughly. Strengthen them in their underctanding.* Give them the message in such a way as to create in them a desire to teach. Then the task is accomplished. Then let the whites disperse.

Tell the Negroes, the believers who are deepened, that if their presence (the white believers presence) will make obstacles or difficulties, the white believers will move on.. They have come to assist - not to hinder. They have only one purpose in Africa, to bring the Negroes into the Faith.

We all must choose and select our African contacts with great care before we begin to teach them. ‘We must observe the greatest care in selecting them. Then we -must investigate them thoroughly. In this stage, he said, investigation is even more important than teaching. We must be very careful not to involve the Faith in any publicity or any risk. We must be sure of our contacts before we decide to teach them.

Once we have made the decision, then we must concentrate on them with great intensity. We must know who their contacts are in their own affairs. We must know with whom they associate, who their friends are, if they mingle with the authorities, radical element, churches or communists. If so, we must avoid these contacts always. We must find those who are capable, who have pure hearts. We must be extremely cautious in our pre-selection of contacts, but we must concentrate our teaching on those we do select with great intensity.

Allow the native Africans to assert themselves. Create in them the desire to spread the Faith, and let them also disperse, and teach the Faith among their own people. We must constantly demonstrate our sincerity. We must serve, not dominate. Let them teach their own people in their own way, not the pioneer’s way. Let them use their own methods to teach, not your methods. If your methods were so effective, he said, America would be full of Negro be1ievers. Permit them to insert themselves. Serve, do not dominate. Do not enforce your methods upon them.

The pioneers have come to Africa for one purpose only, to bring the native Africans into the Faith. They have no other goal. This is their single mission. They must teach the African. I would like to see a solid mass of African believers, he said.

Shoghi Effendi particularly cautions all African pioneers (not only South Africa) not to take sides in any political disputes in Africa, not even indirectly. Do not side against the authorities, he said. Do not even appear to side against them. Do not permit the Africa to feel that you are siding with them against the authorities. They may even say, then, “The Baha’is are on our side.” This will infuriate the Government and the authorities. This could cause great difficulties and hard.

We will never sacrifice a principal to gain a convert. We must explain this point very carefully to the African so he will know why we feel as we do and will understand it. We must clearly explain to him that this is purely a political matter and that we are above politics. We should never take-sides. The best course to pursue in these matters is silence. Strict silence. This is very important.

The Baha’is, he said, must be very careful in teaching not to compromise the principals of the Faith in any way. The principals of the world are weakening, and ours must be more uncompromising. As their principals continue to weaken, ours must continue to gain strength.

We teach the African because they are the native inhabitants of that continent. We do not teach the Africans in the Pacific, we teach the brown-skinned people there. We must reach the people who are in the majority in each area. This is why we teach the Africans in Africa. Do no waste time on the European. Teach the American in America, the Hindu in India, the British in England, but teach the African in Africa. We don’t want a colony of American believers in South Africa. We want a majority of African believers. After all, he said with a smile, the American whites there are an undesirable element.

Do not waste time on the European. It is not worth the energy and the results will be negligible. Teach the Africans. This is your single mission, your purpose for being in Africa. The European will not respond and might involve the Faith in difficulties and publicity. This is to be avoided at all times. It is dangerous to teach the European.

Do not waste time on the political leaders, he said. (Leroy Toss told us that the Guardian had said to an earlier pilgrim, ‘Abdu’l-Baha said that the leaders were ashes, and that’s what they are, ashes, nothing more.”) The leaders, Shoghi Effendi told us, can do nothing about the world problems mow. -They are helpless, useless; they cannot prevent the coming crisis. We, the Baha’is, must be completely above the world crises. We are not concerned with this. This is God’s plan, and He will work it out in His own way. We must take care of our plan, which is the ten year crusade. We have a clear-cut, well-prepared plan. we must execute it. The outside world we leave to God. Whatever happens it will reinforce our plan.

It doesn’t matter, he said, if they call it a Negro Faith. The pioneers have gone to Africa for one purpose, to bring the Native Africans into the Faith. It we do not do this, we might as well have stayed at home. Teach the Hindus in India. The whites in America and Europe, the brown-skinned people in the Pacific, the yellow in the Far East. Reach the majority. we are lovers of mankind, he said, not lovers of whites. The balance must be redressed.

Select a few. Teach them. Send them out prepared to carry the Faith to their own people, their own way. By their methods, not yours.

If yours were so good, the Faith would have grown faster in America.

Teach them thoroughly. Prepare them to carry the message to their own people.

Ruhiyyih Khanum said at this point that if Shoghi Effenii kept on talking so strongly, she would have to leave and pioneer.

Publicity, he said, is to be avoided at all times. There must be no publicity. There is no exception to this rule.

If the believers belong to clues, associations, etc., it is all right, provided they do not bring the Faith into it in any way. It is dangerous to the Faith. Be discreet, be wise, be cautious. We must not mingle too much with white groups. As much as is necessary for our profession and work, but no more. Be extremely cautious in teaching.

Someone who at first seems to be interested and a friend might not be truly sympathetic, and might later become an enemy of the Faith and sake difficulties. Be alert. It is dangerous to disseminate literature indiscriminately and in large amounts. It might fall into the hand and make difficulties.

We must be sure that it will not be passed on without our knowledge.

(When the Guardian speaks, you see everything clearly and in its right place. Things the believers may have stumbled over in the dark, obstacles that something unavoidable are disclosed as tiny and unimportant. When the light of the Guardian words illumine the scene. Immediately, you see the only door to take and everything falls into its proper place in proportion to its importance)

Soghi Effendi was asked if the spiritual depth and devotion of the Baha’is in South Africa could be such as to make their efforts rival the spread of the Faith and the teaching work in Uganda. Because of the greater oppression, stricter separation and more consuming hatreds, would it not be possible for the teaching work in South Africa to bring about proportionately greater reaction for the good? Might not this greater thirst result in more seekers eager to quench that thirst? He replied, it could be so. The message could spread like wild-fire in South Africa, he said. It depends entirely on the believers, the pioneers, who are in South Africa. It depends upon their emphasis on teaching the African. It depends of their consecration, their self-sacrifice, their devotion, and above all on their absolute lack of all prejudice. The opportunity in South Africa, he said is ‘G0LDEN’ He repeated this three times. He said. “It is Golden, Golden, Golden.”

Caught up in the fire of this great teaching wave, it was possible to see the Africans coming into the Faith in-such droves that we could not handle them all. Shoghi Effendi was asked about the administrative problems involved when these wonderful African people began to pour into the Faith, eager but unprepared, are in such numbers as to swamp us.

He said, “when the times comes, get me know about it, and I will tell you exactly what to do.” He enjoyed this thoroughly, with much laughter, as did everyone at the table.

Someone used the word “service” in connection with the Sunday meetings at the Temple Shoghi Effendi said we must never use the word “service” in connection with our meetings. The combination of “Sundays” and “service” is particularly undesirable. We must find some new word - “devotional gathering” or “Hour for devotions” or some similar, but original expression. We must never imitate. We must always see original terms. We must never follow the patterns of the churches or missionaries.

The Baha’is must be creative and original in everything they do.

It was mentioned that a Jewish canter had been invited to chant in the Temple. Shoghi Effendi said that this was fine occasionally; but that we ourselves must encourage the Baha’is to chant the verses (sing the verses). We must consult experts. We must find a new way to recite these words. Just as we called in experts to help us build the Temple, we must also seek the advice of experts in this field. The USA should appoint a special committee to consult experts on this matter to help to develop a technique and then to train believers in this matter of reciting (chanting or singing) the verses.

The Persian Temple, Shoghi Effendi said, will be larger than the one in Germany but smaller than the one in America. The American Temple is the Mother Temple of the West but the one in Tehran is not the Mother Temple of East - that honor belongs to Ashgabat.

There will be a great amount of destruction in the world: in Europe, in the United States, the Pacific, even in Africa where the bases have been established. However this will all help the Cause, he said. It will also give the Negroes a chance to p1ay a predominant sort in their future. After all he said the white race is only a minority. It will be quite unimportant in the future. Its influence will diminish to almost nothing.

The Negro has been subservient to the whites. This must be reversed now. We have come to serve the African people. We must make them understand this.

The new African believers will have many tests, and the white believers must help them. There will be difficulties and obstacles placed in the path of the work in South Africa. The friends must expect this. South Africa is a very difficult place. There will be trouble. The civil authorities will use the missionaries as tools.

They use them now for their own purposes and they will use them later as tools to oppose the Faith; and the missionaries will be very willing to be used as tools as they are anxious to stop the spread of the Faith as well.

The difficulties that the friends will face will be civil, racial and religious. The Guardian was asked if it would he possible for the Baha’is in South Africa to stop the unrush of the seemingly inevitable racial upheaval in South Africa. Would devotion, consecration and concerted action help to stem the tide? No,he said. It is not possible to alter the coming struggle in South Africa. It is like the catastrophe. .It is too late now. We cannot oven get converts in such numbers as to mitigate the upheaval. The native African believers will be swamped by their non-believing brothers. We cannot stop it: we cannot soften it. But if does not matter. Whatever comes will in a mysterious any help the Faith. We must persevere and go forward, unaffected by the prospect of these things of what might happen, or is happening. No one knows the time the type or the conditions of the catastrophe. It is all speculation. The believers must be absolutely confident in the ultimate triumph of the Faith. We must execute our plan and leave the rest to God. We have a ten-year crusade. About this, we can do everything. About the other, we can do nothing.

Teach the African. This is our gravest responsibility. It is our reason for being in Africa. It is a responsibility we can never set down or allow to rest until the mission has been accomplished.

Select our contacts wisely, teach them thoroughly. Choose carefully. Teach a selected few. Deepen them in the Faith. Prepare them to teach their own people. Reinforce their understanding. Concentrate on these few. Make the deep-rooted, firm and full of zeal to spread the Cause among their own people. One believer such as Enoch Olinga, the African pioneer from Uganda to West Africa, he said, can do more to teach the Faith than one hundred transplanted pioneers.

In response to a question asking what countries would make up the Regional National Assembly of South and West Africa, the Guardian replied that this wou1d be determined at a later date. Later that same evening, the Guardian began talking about this subject again. He discussed the possible make-up of territory. The following places are those which he said he felt would be linked together: South Africa, South West Africa, Basutoland, Zululand Swaziland, Bechuanaland, Angola, Northern Rhodesia, Southern Rhodesia, Nyasaland, Mozambique, and all the islands within this orbit, and perhaps Madagascar.

It there are six believers in Cape Town and three, for example, in another city, it would be desirable for the three to go to Gape Town to form the Assembly. First, an Assembly in Johannesburg, then in Cape Town. Johannesburg, he repeated, although a local Assembly must think in territorial toms. They must disperse even to the surrounding territories of Rhodesia, Bechuanaland (and the others mentioned above.)

They must serve and scatter, serve and scatter. “when there are fourteen or fifteen in Johannesburg, the others must move on. Their purpose in being in Africa is but one purpose - to bring the native African into the Faith. They should try to make it possible to have an all-African Assembly, and all move. Some, of course, will stand by to assist, if necessary. Disperse, scatter, far and wide.

Ruhiyyih Khanum asked about those who would have started businesses and might find it difficult to move on. Shoghi Effendi replied, they needn’t go far. If it is impossible to leave for distant areas they can go to nearby areas. Move to cities near their hush business, commute to business, and teach the African in these new areas where they live. It is most important to disperse. If they do go far, he said, so much the better. It is heroic. I will not restrain them.’ I will applaud their service.

The pioneers must he selfless. They must serve the African people with a complete lack of prejudice.” They must lose their identity. They must completely efface themselves. They must not form an American colony in South Africa. They must not form a Pennsylvania colony in South Afr1ca. disperse, scatter, lose your identity. If the pioneers plan teach only the white-skinned, they would have been better off to have stayed at home. Disperse and scatter. They must not think of Johannesburg as their home. They must not think of South Africa as their home.

Disperse. Illumine souls. Bet alight new torches. Confirm, deepen, and then move to light new torches in new fields. Johannesburg must look to the surrounding territories. As soon as there are enough believers in one area, they must leave, move on, and ignite fresh fires.

Teach a few selected Africans; let them take the message to their own people. When the number of be1ievers in each area has reached the right level, disperse and begin again according to the same plan. Your home is Africa; not Johannesburg.

The great task for Uganda, he said, must now be to consolidate.

They must persevere along the path they have already made. He asked one of the Pilgrims to express his (the Guardian’s) deepest appreciation to Uganda for the worked they have accomplished, especially to those pioneers who had left their homes to carry the message of Baha’u’llah as far as the West Coast of Africa. Now, he said, Uganda must consolidate.

In all areas, he said the first thing to do is to disperse.

This is the beginning step to all successful teaching. The believers must disperse and form new centre of activity. This is the first step.

This brings isolated believers into new, virgin areas and communities.

The next is for the isolated believer to convert new friends and new friends and to become a group, the group must become the Local Assemble. This is very important. Forming of the Regional National Assembly in Central and East Africa depends on the formation of local assemblies, not upon many groups andjiso1§§3dehelievere.v It depends upon local assemblies.

These assemblies are the foundation upon which the pillars of the Rational Assemblies are raised. Until the National Assemblies are raised, the Universal House of Justice cannot come into being.

Dispersion, he said, 1a=en@ first step. It will lead to the Universal House qr Justice. Dispersion leads to isolated believers. This leads to groups, which lead to the Universal House of Justice.

Tell the friends, the Guardian said, if they wish to hasten the forming of the Universal House of Justice, they must form local assemblies and consolidate the work they have already accomplished. The starting point for all this motion, he said, is dispersal. Disperse far and wide. The farther, the better. The sooner, the better. The sooner you disperse and scatter, he said, the sooner will you consolidate the isolated believers to;groups,5groups to assemblies, local assemblies to national assemblies, and the sooner will come the Universal House of Justice. It all depends on the believers.

New York and Chicago are very dangerous places to be, he said.

It is better for the friends to go from them. It is better for them and for the Cause. “But not to go to the suburbs. This is not the time to open suburbs. This is the time to open territories. We must be conquerors, like the Dunns in Australia. They conquered a whole continent. There was not a single believer in Australia when they went there. How there is a National Assembly. They are buildings Haziratui’l-Quds and they have bought the land for the Temple Site in Sydney.

Shoghi Effendi said that the American Baha’is contact the tribes, but they do not convert them. In Africa, he said, the believer contact the tribes, they also convert them. This is what must in America. If it is impossible for the Baha’is to settle with the Indians on the reservations, they should migrate to these areas and settle on the borders of these areas. They must scatter and move to the cities and villages near the Indians and then make contact with them from there. They must teach them and convert them.

The American believers, he said, have a great opportunity to demonstrate to the American Negro their self-sacrifice, to show that they will arise and leave their families, jobs, homes, everything, to go to Africa to help the Negro people of Africa to embrace the Faith and elevate their station. While the American Negro (non-Baha’i) remains at home too attached to his material interests to arise and help his own race. It is necessary for the believers to arise and go in order to make this impression on the American Negro.

Shoghi Effendi said that the African may well have to arise and go to America to teach the American Negro for the American believers have not been successful in doing so.

The Guardian said that reverence is a quality in which the American; are lacking. Their over-accentuation of democracy and personal independence in the cause of this. The Persians, he said, carry it to the other extreme. The Americans have too little reverence while the Persians are overly demonstrative. It needs s balance. Reverence and self-respect go together, he said. The Americans think so much or their self-respect that they are lacking in reverence. The Persians, on the other hand, go to such extremes in trying to express their reverence that they forget their self-respect. It is necessary that we have both reverence and self-respect.

Shoghi Effendi said that there was a great need for the re-awakening of the assemblies. He said that the more tools of the administration that we had, the slower the work of teaching progresses. (He was speaking at this time of committees.) This is not the fault of the tools, he said, but of their manner of functioning. They are vital.

However, they must function properly as they were designed to function.

(We cannot use them for New World Order purposes with Old world Order methods; we must not block the channels with personalities and then blame the channels for not carrying the “water of life”.)

The Aqdas, the Guardian said, will be published long before the majority of the people or the world are Baha’is. The state of society will be able to appreciate the provisions and laws of the Aqdas much better then, than they can now. The provisions and laws may seem harsh now, but it is premature to that this is so at this time. We must wait for the new society. What seems harsh now, will seem just right then. What appears to be lenient now will be just what is needed then, neither more nor less we have both laws and principles in the Faith. The laws are given by-Baha’u’llah in the Aqdas and other tablets. The principles are given by Abdu’l-Baha in His addresses to the Test. We have lass and principles.

The principles are of two kinds spiritual and administrative. Perhaps it would be more exact, he said, to say administrative and non-administrative principles. The non-administrative or spiritual principles are found in the addresses to the West. The administrative principles are found in our constitution, the by-laws of the National and Local Assemblies.

Baha’u’l1ah established the local and Universal Houses of Justice.

Abdu’l-Baha established the Rational or Secondary House of Justice.

Abdu’l-Baha in His will and Testament said that the Secondary House or Justice will elect the Universal House of Justice. In just what manner it will be elected, will be determined later. Whether they will come together to do it, or divide into certain countries and do it by areas, will be determined at a future date. Baha’u’llah established the Institutions and the embodiment of the principles and laws will be found in the Universal House of Justice.

The first auxiliary buildings to the Shrine on Mount Carmel will be the building which houses the International Archives. Shoghi Effendi showed us the design of the International Archives Building. It is Creek Classic in style, somewhat similar to the style of the Parthenun. The second edifices will be the Universal House of Justice. The Auxiliary buildings will be in the form of an arc with a series of buildings. All together they will form the World Administrative center of the Faith.

The Shrine is the spiritual center, these auxiliary buildings will be the administrative center.

In the Tablet of Carmel, Baha’u’llah laid the foundation for these World institutions. The will and Testament of Abdul-Baha is the charter of the Administrative Center of the Faith.

The believers, Shoghi Effendi said, should now pay more attention to the needs of the Fund at the World Center of the Faith. Now we are building a World Center. We built upon a local scale for years, but now it is upon an International Scale. The Auxiliary Boards appointed by the Hands will link the National Assemblies to the Hands of the Cause, he said. These satellites (members the Board) that circle around Hands will have three-fold function to discharge in connection with the hands. They will be to representatives, assistants and advisers. They will travel constantly.

All Africa, he said, is now looking toward Kampala and toward the Hand of the Cause there, Mr. Banani. British and American believers are all looking toward Mr. Banani, an Oriental, A Persian and a Jew. But a Jew All the Bahas’is of Africa are under his shadow.

They are also under the shadow of the nine whom he selects. This station lie great, for the satellites are the representatives of the Hands of the Cause of God. The function of the auxiliary beards, he said, at the present time is to aid the various National Spiritual Assemblies, through the Hands, in carrying the task of the ten-year crusade.

The National Spiritual Assembly, as the plan progress, will take on its true function which is to regulate the administrative affairs of the Faith, to govern the Faith, to supervise its internal affairs. It will develop into an organ of government and will keep order.

Shoghi Effendi showed us the original copy of the world directory which he is working 0nq§3It lists all the areas, centers, groups, isolated believers. It showed all the tribes and languages. He said that they had thought thoy_wou1Qeboafiflih1n3 to have this directory ready at the end of ten years. Now it is being finished at the end of one. He said Zululand would be the 259th territory to be opened. (It was last on the list alphabetically) He said, that he thought he might ask the various National Assemblies to send him a new list of territories not mentioned in the plan. Then he would add enough new territories to make three hundred.

We saw two wonderful maps. One of the world with all the territories: (virgin and consolidation) that have been claimed for the Faith. Another map of Africa with the history of the work there. A11 the names of the pioneer who went to virgin territories are on the map. The languages is translated or to be translated, the assemblies, groups, the isolated believer, all these are on the map. The islands around Africa, and the Crusaders who conquered then are shown. There is a gold circle in the Mediterranean where Dorothy Baker’s plane fell into the sea. And another gold circle at Tripoli where martyr, Ella Bailey, lies buried. Both map, he said will be published. They will give the friends a review, of what has been accomplished, so that they may be encouraged and stimulated to do more.

Johannesburg must form its local assembly and must incorporate. It is necessary for the assemblies to incorporate in order to be able to have endowments, local or national. Johannesburg cannot incorporate now, however as it would be dangerous, this would necessate going to the authorities which might result in difficulties. When it is incorporated, Johannesburg may have to be incorporated as a commercial organization, rather than as a religious organization. Some other places have had to do this because of opposition. We should study how this could be done so that we will know how, when the time comes. But now, he said, is not the time for incorporation in Johannesburg.

When the Assembly is formed, he said, the first thing they must do is purchase the land for the Temp1e. This should be done quietly and unobtrusively. Once it is purchased it antacid should be forgotten. This is not the time to think of building the temple. That is for the future. Teaching is the vital thing now. Concentrate only on the goals of the ten-year crusade. Reaching the African is most important. One native can do more than one hundred Americans in coming to Africa. Choose carefully, select, teach, and deepen. Concentrate on the Africans who are being taught. Teach than thcroughly., Fill than with the desire to teach, than let them scatter and disperse, and spread the Faith, among their own people.

Unless the Americans accomplish their single, vital mission, which is to reach the Africa, Shoghi Effendi said he would have some of the African: from Uganda come down and do it for them. Perhaps even from West Africa. He said it would be an invasion from the north. He said that if we were unable to conquer the Bouts African problems and convert the black race, he would send us to the tar cast and let us try to teach the yellow skin people. And if we hero unsuccessful there, he would send us to the Pacific Islands to teach the brown skinned people. However, he concluded, with a twinkle in his eye (we hoped) he felt certain we would be successful in South Africa. He was confident, he said, that we would find a way to meet and teach the Native African. After all, he said, this was our reason for being there, nothing else. It would be difficult, but the opportunity was golden. The success would depend on the sacrifice, consecration and absolute lack of prejudice demonstrated by the believers.

Ruhiyyih Khanum told Shoghi Effendi that she thought that one of the pilgrims was being too spiritual and that the pilgrim should not go up to the Shrine and dawn each morning but should remain in bed the next morning and rest. Shoghi Effendi replied that it is good to be both spiritually active and administratively active, both spiritual and material. Both essential, he said. We must have both. Actively he said, increases spirituality. But he added, it is possible to be active without being spiritual. We must pray, supplicate, the serve. We have our spiritual center, The Shrine, now we are erecting our administrative center, the auxiliary buildings. It is like the Temple, and its dependencies, where this spirit can be put into operation. Both are necessary. Both, he said are necessary, for the life of individual, as well as for the life of institution or the life of society.

These were the notes taken of the Guardian’s words on teaching, and his general comments on the Faith as best as we could recall them. We did not take notes at the dinner except upon special occasions when we were asked to take them order to convey special messages to certain areas in Africa. Each evening, after dinner, we would remain at the table or go upstairs or go up to the sitting room. There we would discuss everything that the Guardian had said. We would compare our thoughts, our recollections of what he had said or how he had phrased it. From these moments, the above notes were written each evening before retiring. Each wonderful evening, the Guardian would leave us with much to meditate upon. We would arise, bid us each a loving goodnight, and leave us to sleepless hours of wonder, joy and excitement as we re-lived each moment, each sentence, each question and each answer. Sleep usually came one step ahead of dawn.

2. Notes Part Two [text]

typed by Robert Stauffer, 1997

Each pilgrim makes two pilgrimages in one, the pilgrimage of the head and the pilgrimage of the heart.

The first is the pilgrimage of the mind; notes taken of special information, new developments of the Faith while you are present, instructions from the Guardian to be applied to one's community or one's self. This is the pilgrimage of "what the Guardian said."

The second is the pilgrimage of the emotions: the sea that surges inside the pilgrim from the moment he catches his first glimpse of that glistening, golden dome. This is the warm flooding tide that soon will fill every empty inlet along the coastline of his spirit. This is the pilgrimage of joys, ecstacies, sorrows, shames, repentances and reformations that storm through his being. It is the first meeting with the Guardian, the first walk along the tile-red path that leads to the shrine of the Bab, the moment that holy door is swung inward for the first time and you enter the presence of the gentle, lovable Bab, the very air of whose Shrine throbs with the blood of the martyrs. This is the pilgrimage of reunion with the welcoming arms of the wonderful Master. It is above all, the awe-stricken moment when the impure heart dares to present itself before that sanctified spot where the Supreme Manifestation is enshrined. This is the pilgrimage of Bahji, Masraih, Ridvan, the house at Akka, the prison-cell, the sufferings, the triumphs that are relived again through the eyes of each pilgrim who looks upon this land so much beloved.

It is this second pilgrimage that I wish to speak here, of one all too short a part of it. The following is my recollection of that first and that last meeting with our Guardian.

These, of course, are pilgrim's notes. I have tried to be as accurate as possible in recording my impressions, but they are only the impressions of one pilgrim. If written by another pilgrim during the same days, they might present an entirely different aspect.

Shoghi Effendi is like the rays of the sunlight. He exposes whatever subject matter is latent on the inner film of each pilgrim. the same sun in the same field on the same day will warm and raise up many different flowers. The following are my personal recollections of what he was like, some of the things he said, and some of the things I was told he said, nothing more.

I arrived the morning of April 1, 1954. In addition to my 44 pounds of airline luggage, I had in my pockets, two tins of potatoes, a bottle of catsup, a small tin of coffee, a large bottle of coffee, fifty Greek pamphlets, seven notebooks, four bottles of toilet articles, and an eight pound automatic electric hot water heater.

I spent the day doing things which are written elsewhere. Now I can not remember them, I recall only the deep longing in my heart to see the Guardian. I wanted to take a long pole and push the sun down into the Mediterranean so that evening would hasten.

Mt feelings were of mingled fear and courage: fear to stand before him and look into those eyes that must see all the stains that darken the inside of a person; courage that if only I could look upon him, tell him of my love and beg forgiveness in my heart, nothing else would really matter.

Darkness stole away our lovely view of the Bab's Shrine from the Pilgrim House window. By then, I had stiffened my liquid knees for the moment of going through the dining room door into his presence. My business life had been filled for years with "first nights" but never had there been one such as this. Never had I so hoped that

an audience might find some merit in me, and I knew that approval could not be won this time by "performing" - only by not performing. This was a different world, not shadow but reality. I had tried to prepare myself to meet him by praying with such fervor as I had never used before in all my Bahá'í life. At this point I realized that if I had used that fervor during all my Bahá'í life, I would have been prepared to meet him now without it. A number of other things came to my mind, all of which led me to want to pack my bag and flee to a pioneer post.

Then word came that the Guardian was still at Bahji and would stay the night there and not be with us at dinner. I felt as though I would weep before everyone. However, I didn't. It was just as well that I did not. In the days to come I would learn what it was to shed tears, both of joy and of repentance.

Haifa without the Guardian is like an eye without its sight. Dr. Lotfullah Hakim's whimsical comment is a virtual truth, "It is the holyland in his presence and the `helliland' in his absence."

When we were told that Shoghi Effendi was making plans to illuminate the inner Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh at Bahji, our emptiness was soon forgotten. Ruhiyyih Khanum was so kind and loving. She knew the inner disappointment that each pilgrim tried not to show. Millie Collins, Leroy Ioas, Mason Remey, everyone bestowed upon us a special love that first night.

Dawn prayers at the shrines, weed-pulling in the gardens, laughter at lunch, recording first impressions, transferring books for a new library, tea, bathe, shave, dress - evening!

Some of us were upstairs in the north sitting room when there was a scurrying about, the sound of rapid footsteps, a light tap on the door and the words, "He is here!" Magic words. The quiet house comes to life. It is like opening a faucet. All flows immediately toward the Guardian. No precious second of his presence must be lost. Everyone hurries to the head of the stairs, merging into a single-file line as they descend. At the foot of the stairs, the Hands and the others step aside to permit the pilgrims to enter first.

We walked quickly along the lower hallway toward the dining room door, still exchanging places for the proper order. I tried to peek around the back of the pilgrim in front of me for my first glimpse of the Guardian. Her back prevented it.

then I was in the room. I heard his voice for the first time as he greeted her and shook hands with her. "Good evening", he said.

She replied, "Good morning, Shoghi Effendi."

She stepped aside, and I was revealed to him in all my unworthiness.

There was no place to hide.

Dr. Giachery had told me in Rome that each time he approached that door he got cold shivers down his spine, and that he felt like a little boy caught with jam on his face. He told me this, but he didn't tell me that it was such a very cold shiver and that there was so very much jam.

Our eyes met. "Good evening," he said, and I replied.

What I said I can't remember because I saw him coming toward me.

He held out his arms and embraced me.

"We have been expecting you for a long time", he said, as he kissed me on the right cheek, then the left, then the right. I clung to him ever so tightly. My predominate feeling was, "I have come home. My chest hurt, it felt so big. My throat was stopped up. My eyes tried to shed tears that were pouring from every part of my being, but the task was too great for them. They stored up and blinded me.

"We have heard much about you", he said. I held him tightly hoping I need never let go. "Now we are happy that you are with us at last."

I turned back to the table to find my seat. It was directly opposite him, so close I could have reached over and touched his hand. When my vision cleared, I could see that every other eye was also misty. When the next pilgrim arrived, I would know why. Every Bahá'í heart is knitted to the other here and shares this ecstasy when the Guardian greets the new pilgrim for the first time. When I saw the next pilgrim come, I too, wept with joy for them. I thought of the words of the obligatory prayer, "burn away the veils that have shut me out from Thy beauty and (be) a light that will lead unto the ocean of Thy Presence."

My fears had all vanished now, and I felt only a transcendent happiness. I watched the Guardian with wrapt attention and ever increasing devotion. This was as close, in our day, as man could come to the direct source of the power of God, His Majesty, His Justice, His Mercy, His Love. I felt them all flowing from the Guardian.

When he asked me about my journey I answered him and my words shamed me. I had made my living by words, but could think of nothing to say in his presence. My words were feable, clumsy and uncertain. It was as though a glib tongue had been made fearful that it might try to say something witty or clever. This Guardian could be impressed by only one thing, service to the Faith. Nothing would ever influence his judgement; not wealth, position, power, or friendship. The only gift that could be given him was a gift of service.

One thing was apparent to me at once. My life was changing. My concept of the Faith, of teaching, of service, none of these would ever be the same again, from that moment when he had said "we are happy that you are here with us at last."

I knew the terror of the words of Bahá'u'lláh, "I fear lest bereft of the melody of the dove of heaven, ye will sink back to the shades [of] utter loss." I had gazed upon the beauty of the rose" and could never again be content to return to "water and clay".

One thing is certain: the being changes while at Haifa. Though one may fail to live up to the promises of this great blessing, though one may fail to serve as God requires, the price will be paid. Having seen the light, darkness is abhorrent. Only an unending sorrow can be the reward for those who, having tasted of the pure crystal stream turn aside and drink from another.

The Guardian calls you to a higher service. He lifts you up to heights of limitless joy, then sets you gently down. Having revealed the treasure, he requests the payment, which is service to the Faith of God.

Your only fear now is that you may fall short of the possibilities he had made you see in yourself.

He is different things to different people, I feel sure. He is a different Guardian to the same people on different days. Yet you feel that he is always the same at the center. He is like an ocean. A shelter for the fish who live upon his bounty, a storm of destruction. for those who sail against his tide or into forbidden waters. He is truly the Sign of God on earth. He is the present form of the Most Great Ocean of Bahá'u'lláh. `Abdul-Baha told us that the covenant was this ocean. If we live within its strengthening grace, we prosper as fish gain strength in the waters of the sea. If we venture beyond its waters, we perish. If we do not feed upon its waters, we die within the sea itself, and, like dead bodies in the ocean, the waves of God spew us up and wash us onto the sands to wither and waste away.

You feel this power in the presence of the Guardian. I have heard it said that `Abdu'l-Bahá once told some American believers when He was

in their country, "now you have my love; some day you will have my justice." This justice is personified in the Guardian. You say, "Thank God for this Guardian!" You know at once the strength of the Covenant, that Shoghi Effendi is the strong rope to which all must cling. Whenever I write of the Guardian and come to the pronoun, "he", I instinctively want to capitalize it. He would not approve, so I do not. Still in a small way it explains the need one feels for more lofty term to express his presence.

I will try to describe him for you as he appears to the outer eye. Now I know why there have been no adequate descriptions of him by the Pilgrims. It is completely unimportant. It is describing a mirror when you can't behold the sun that shines in it. It is describing a symphony by saying it has four movements, when you can't express the exhilaration and joy that its music stirs in you. This is more true of the Guardian. His is a music unique to the planet. It is a spiritual language which transcends even a musical language. `Abdu'l-Bahá said there was a spiritual language as different from our language as ours is from the cries of animals. This is the language of the presence of the guardian. It cannot be expressed, it must be experienced. what is written here is but the shadow of the reality. Only a pilgrimage of your own will clothe it in flesh. If you have seen him, you will understand this.

The Guardian, as I remember him, is short in stature. His hair is dark, greying on the sides. He is of medium to dark complexion. He has dark eyes that seem to become a shade of the reality. He is of medium to dark complexion. He has dark eyes that seem to become a shade lighter when they are most animated, as though they burned with some inner fire. His features are regular. He is smooth shaven except for a dark moustache. there is an energetic quality about his person, even when at rest. He is very sturdy. I judge this by the firmness I felt when he embraced me. He has very small, slender hands which are shapely and expressive. All of his gestures are extremely graceful. He wore a rust colored topcoat over his inner clothes all during the time I was there. His tie was always brown. He wears a slender gold Bahá'í ring on the second finger of his right hand. He wears a black fez with a black button in the center of the top. Almost every evening he brought some new cable, drawing, or document with him to the table. Frequently he discusses the work of the Faith with the Hands and the members of the International Council. The dinner table is long and narrow. It seats ten comfortably. The latest pilgrim used to sit at the head of the table. Now Mason Remey sits there. The Guardian sits on his right, and the latest pilgrim on Mason's left, opposite Shoghi Effendi. Ruhiyyih Khanum sits on the Guardian's immediate right. The pilgrim is only three feet away, yet a world away from him.

My time with him was doubly blessed because he was very happy throughout. The work of the Faith was progressing well and this is the barometer of his spirits. He laughed much, chuckled very often, and on two occasions burst into loud, hearty laughter. His joy carries everyone's spirits soaring aloft with him.

Frequently he will nod his head up and down as though to emphasize a point he has just made. When word came of the opening of three new territories in West Africa, he was delighted.

"Now," he said, "we have opened two hundred and twenty-five countries to the Faith."

Then he nodded his head as if to say, "Yes, it is true." He never says "I" or "me". It is always "we" or "the Bahá'ís" or "the Faith" has done it.

No one speaks English as Shoghi Effendi speaks it. There may be a moment's hesitation as he searches for a word, but each time he brings forth a jewel that inspires a quiver of delight.

One evening the Shrine of the Bab was surrounded by a white mist. The Guardian asked us if we had seen it. "The Shrine," he said, "was the Queen of Carmel, seated upon her throne, robed in white and crowned with gold."

As the evening passes, your fear increases that soon he will leave. He touches his serviette ring with his eloquent fingers, then, with a characteristic gesture of finality, he pushes it forward toward the center of the table. This means he is about to leave. The moment you dreaded has arrived. Each time he touches that serviette-ring, you say quietly to yourself, "Don't let him leave just yet." He bids us each a personal good- night with the wish that we may sleep well. Sometimes he will refer to the next day's plans.

"I hope you have a good night's rest. Tomorrow you will go to Bahji, to the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh. Yes."

his head nods up and own. His lovely eyes bestow upon each of us a loving glance. He smiles again and leaves.

The overpowering feeling of motion which you associate with the Guardian, never leaves you after that first meeting. `Abdu'l-Bahá's words live in the guardian: We must go forward; we can't stand still, that is stagnation.

Movement, speed, action. Yet all accomplished in an atmosphere of assurance and calm. The closer we are to him, the more active we become, the more accelerated our pace; yet, the more sublime our attitude and the less panicky our methods. The guardian moves across the vast spaces to be conquered by the Faith as a cyclone moves. Its speed is astounding, yet at the heart of the cyclone all is at peace as it moves. The farther one is from this tranquil center, the more violent the reaction. If we ever have withdrawn from the center and are on the outer fringes, we are torn to bits and destroyed. We must move with the power or be shattered by the impact.

This is what it is like to be in the presence of the Guardian. He is the power of electricity that can heat, warm, comfort and light our lives, but if we misuse it we are destroyed. The breeze that cools you when you are feverish, the wind that sails your craft speeding on its way, the gentle breath that shakes the ripened fruit and drops them at your feet is the gale, the hurricane that rushes in to crush what has become a vacuum.

You can feel the heat of his pace, you are shaken by the draft of his passing. You can see the light of his spirit. He is a giant comet that blazes across the sky, drawing into his orbit all the bits of matter that can feed the flame of his fire. All that can burn with this same fire are drawn in to increase the brightness. Those who are too late, to enter, but the moment for the junction is past. The fiery tail of the comet sweeps by them and they are left in darkness.

This is the Guardian. I have emphasized this feeling of action most of all because it predominates the others. Action - then results. Not big projects planned, but small projects completed. He does not interest himself in what you are going to do, but in what you have done.

Even more important than this urgency for action, is the need for obedience. The very breath of life within the Faith, you feel, is obedience. Bahá'u'lláh said of `Abdu'l-Bahá, "Who obeys Him, obeys God." The Master had said of Shoghi Effendi in His Will and Testament "who obeys him, obeys God." You know now that there can be no partial obedience to God. If there is, you have only a partial understanding of the Faith, and you get only partial results. you have investigated and made your choice; exercise you independence in coming to the Faith.

Now is the time for obedience. In the words of the prayer, "Instant, exact and complete obedience." We must be like the great cypress trees standing outside the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh. They bow and bend low before the breeze of God from whichever direction it may blow.

The guardian said that the friends feel that it is difficult to leave their homes and pioneer, even to move to the goals inside their own countries. They do not see that he is not asking them to sacrifice. He is protecting them not only from the calamity that is rushing toward them outwardly, but he is protecting them from the calamity that is rushing toward them inwardly.

"America", he said, "is no longer even actively quarreling. They are passively stagnant." This is why, he said, that he asked them to disperse; so that they may become alive again and not wither. They will now be punished, he told a pilgrim, both materially and spiritually, if they do not disperse. Those who now fail to respond to the summons of the Ten Year Crusade will suffer both materially and spiritually. Those who do not respond to the commands, he said, will feel this double suffering.

You are in the Guardian's presence but a short time when you wish to saddle your horse, buckle on your sword, and casting aside the joy of the rest of your pilgrimage, cry out: "Mount your steeds, O heroes of God!" Ruhiyyih Khanum, herself, said one night, "Shoghi Effendi, if you keep on speaking so movingly, I'll have to leave and pioneer."

You have the desire to be commanded in order that you may obey. Here you lose forever that feeling, so common in the west, of rebellion at commands. You see that obedience in a new light; a light of protection, service, accomplishment and joy.

When Shoghi Effendi leaves the room after the evening meal, the room becomes quite silent for some time. All eyes are watching the door through which has gone. Part of our hearts have gone with him. It is a good thing because the part he has left with us is too much for us to carry. We must share it with each other or burst. Eyes slowly, unwillingly, turn from the door of his departure. We look at each other as though we remember for the first time who we are. Deep signs are heard on every side as we breathe out the last of that air of his presence. These sighs are more eloquent than words. They say, "Isn't he wonderful! Oh, if only we could be worthy of him!"

Gently we stir about. We have come back from a different world. It is empty in this one without him. You wish it were tomorrow night already. You seat yourselves at the table, or go up to the sitting room where you can repeat to each other all that he said.

These sweet sighs of tenderness and love stay with you long into the Haifa nights. You relive each moment with the Guardian over and over. There is no more room. This wonderful Water of Life is running down the sides. You are eager to rush off to your post before any is lost or wasted. Your eyes hungrily drink in this glimpse of your beloved Guardian.

Finally the moment of heartache comes. The Guardian pushes his ringed serviette forward for the last time. his eyes look across the table and into yours. He understands. You feel that you are an arrow pulled back to the farthest stretching point in his bow. He now has only to let go and you will speed on your way to the task he has assigned.

Yet, anxious as you are to be about his work, you long to remain in his presence. Eager as you are to try your new found wings, you regret leaving the nest.

He rose. We followed. He came to me. Our beloved Guardian took both of my hands in his; warm love streamed from his touch into my very being. The Sign of God on earth looked into my eyes; love, kindness, forgiveness surround me. I, who had given nothing, had received everything. I who had neglected God, and failed repeatedly, had been welcomed as an only son at this table of God, the fragrant perfume of which I shall never leave me.

I was being sent out into the vineyard of God as one worthy of his hire. The banquet was ended and he now was placing upon my shoulders whatever burden I wished to bear for Bahá'u'lláh's sake.

A pilgrim is reported to have told `Abdu'l-Bahá that he would love to be near him always. `Abdul-Baha is said to have replied, "The way to be near me, is to be far from me. Service in the Kingdom is nearness to God."

"There are two visits," `Abdu'l-Bahá said to one of the very first pilgrims to this holy place, "the first is for blessing; then ye come and are blessed and are sent forth to work in God's vineyard; the second ye come with banners flying, like soldiers, in gladness and triumph to receive your reward."

Our beloved Guardian told us, "The pilgrimage is given to you that you may take in and then give out, to receive and then impart, to absorb and then bestow. Without this there has been no pilgrimage. It will dissolve into nothing."

This holy land is the heart of the Faith. The heart reinvigorates the bloodstream. The blood finally reaches the heart; there it is reactivated and is pumped back out into all parts of the body with new energy so it may feed the tissues and give them life.

The pilgrim comes to the land of his beloved, to the heart of the Cause, laden with the impurities of the world. Here, he is refreshed and restored, so that he may go back into the vineyard and bring the love-creating, life- restoring word of God into all parts of the earth.

In this last moment, you learn the supreme lesson; it does not matter what you have done, who you may be, what your powers, talents, and background in the Faith may have been up until now. nothing matters except your complete consecration to Bahá'u'lláh from this moment on. All else is secondary. Without this, all your gifts are valueless. Bahá'u'lláh will raise up others who, however humble, unlearned, or untrained, have this virtue of dedication and they will do what you with all your gifts have failed to do. The hour spoken of by the Bab has come again, "Beware lest by turning back, He may change you for another people, who shall not be your like and who shall take from you the Kingdom of god."

This is what it means to be in the presence of Shoghi Effendi.

Sad, sweet music filled my being as I looked upon my Guardian. My pilgrimage was over. I must go from this heaven of heavens.

The Guardian came around the head of the table to take my hands in parting. I clung to him, trying to drain courage from him. He said he would pray for the success of the work in South Africa.

Then he embraced me! He kissed me upon my cheeks. I pressed him to my heart. He smiled lovingly at me.

"I hope when you make your next pilgrimage," he said, "that you will bring some of your African children with you."

Then he was gone!

Since you can't hold back the sun, four o'clock the next afternoon rushes upon me. Everyone gathers on the white marble steps of Number Ten Persian Street to say farewell. Of Ruhiyyih Khanum, Leroy Ioas, Millie Collins, Mason Remy, Lotfullah Hakim, Sylvia Ioas, Jessie and Ethel Revell, Muhammad Tabrisi, Muhammad Esfahani, Sala and all these dear friends, I have written elsewhere. Here let me say only this: whoever the pilgrim may be, he is surrounded here by an affection and kindness unparalled. Each pilgrim is made to feel that he, and he

alone, is the one pilgrim they have all been waiting all these long years to welcome.

I entered the cab. The tender kiss of Millie Collins helped to heal the pain of parting. "We shall pray for you," she said.

As we left Haifa, I watched the Shrine through the window of the cab. I twisted my head with each turn of the taxi, keeping that gleaming dome in sight to the very last moment. I recalled the words of the Guardian, spoken to us the night he had seen the Shrine in the mist.

"She is the Queen of Carmel," he said, "seated upon her throne, robed in white and crowned with gold."

The pilgrim was whisked from the world of God back into the world of man.

Notes Part Two text

First and Last Meeting with Shoghi Effendi

William Sears

April 1,1954

Each pilgrim makes two pilgrimages in one: the pilgrimage of the head and the pilgrimage of the heart.

The first is the pilgrimage of the mind. Notes are taken of special information, new developments of the Faith, instructions from the Guardian to be applied to one’s community or one’s own self. This is the pilgrimage of “What the Guardian Said”.

The second is the pilgrimage of the emotions: the sea that surges inside the pilgrim from the moment he or she catches the first glimpse of that glistening, golden dome. This is the warm flooding tide that soon will fill every empty inlet along the cold coastline of the spirit. This is the pilgrimage of joy, ecstasies, sorrows, shames, repentances and reformations that storm through one’s being.

It is the first meeting with the Guardian, the first walk along the tile-red path that leads to the Shrine of the Báb, the moment that holy door is swung inward for the first time and you enter the presence of the gentle, lovable Báb, the very air of Whose Shrine throbs with the blood of the martyrs. This is the pilgrimage of reunion with the welcoming arms of the beloved Master. It is above all, the awe-stricken moment when the impure heart dares to present itself before that other sanctified spot where the Supreme Manifestation is enshrined: the pilgrimage of Bahjí, Masra‘ih Riḍván, the house at ‘Akká, the prison cell, the sufferings, the triumphs that are relived again through the eyes of each pilgrim who looks upon this land so much beloved.

It is of this second pilgrimage, the pilgrimage of the emotions, that I wish to speak here. The following is my recollection of that first and that last meeting with our Guardian.

These, of course, are a pilgrim’s notes. I have tried to be as accurate as possible in recording my impressions, but they remain only the impressions of one pilgrim. If it were written by another pilgrim on the same day, they might present an entirely different aspect. Shoghi Effendi is like the rays of sunlight. He expresses whatever subject matter is latent on the inner film of each pilgrim. The same sun on the same field will warm and raise up many different flowers.

The following are my personal recollections of what Shoghi Effendi was like, some of the things he said, and some of the things I was told he said. Nothing more.

I arrived the morning of April 1, 1954. In addition to my 44 lbs. of airline luggage, I had in my pockets, two tins of potatoes, a bottle of catsup, a small tin of coffee, a large bottle of coffee, 50 Greek pamphlets, seven notebooks, four bottles of toilet articles and an eight-pound automatic electric water heater.

I spent the day doing things that are written elsewhere. Now I cannot remember them. I recall only the deep longing in my heart to see the Guardian. I wanted to take a long pole and push the sun down into the Mediterranean so that evening would hasten.

My feelings were of mingled fear and courage. Fear, to stand before him and look into those eyes that must see all the stains that darken the inside of a person; courage, that if only I could look upon him, tell him of my love and beg forgiveness in my heart, nothing else would really matter.

Darkness stole away our lovely view of the Báb’s Shrine from the Pilgrim House window. By then I had stiffened my liquid knees for the moment of going through the dining room door into his presence. My business life had been filled for years with “first nights” but never had there been one such as this. Never had I so hoped that an audience might find some merit in me, and I knew that approval could not be won this time by “performing” — only by not performing. This was a different world, not a shadow but reality. I had tried to prepare myself to meet him by praying with such fervor as I had never used before in all my Bahá’í life. At this point I realized that if I had used that fervor before during all my Bahá’í life, I would have been prepared to meet him now without it. A number of other things came to my mind, all of which led me to want to pack my bag and flee to a pioneer post.

Then word came that the Guardian was still at Bahjí, would stay the night there and not be with us at dinner. I felt as though I would weep before everyone. However, I didn’t. It was just as well that I did not. In the days to come, I would learn what it was to shed tears, both of joy and repentance.

Haifa without the Guardian is like an eye without its sight. Dr. Luṭfu’lláh Ḥakím’s whimsical comment is a virtual truth, “It is the Holy Land in his presence and the ‘helliland’ in his absence.”

When we were told that Shoghi Effendi was making plans to illuminate the inner Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh at Bahjí, our emptiness was soon forgotten. Rúḥíyyih Khánum was so kind and loving. She knew the inner disappointment that each pilgrim tried not to show. Millie Collins, Leroy Ioas, Mason Remey — everyone bestowed upon us a special love that first night.

Dawn prayers at the Shrines, weed-pulling in the gardens, laughter at lunch, recording first impressions, transferring books for a new library, tea, bathe, shave, dress — evening!

Some of us were upstairs in the north sitting room when there was a scurrying about, the sound of rapid footsteps, a light tap on the door and the words, “He is here!” Magic words. The quiet house comes to life. It is like opening a faucet. All attention flows immediately toward the Guardian. No precious second of his presence must be lost. Everyone hurries to the head of the stairs, merging into a single-file line as they descend. At the foot of the stairs, the Hands of the Cause and the others step aside to permit the pilgrims to enter first.

We walked quickly along the lower hallway toward the dining room door, still exchanging places for the proper order. I tried to peek around the back of the pilgrim in front of me for my first glimpse of the Guardian. Her back prevented it.

Then, I was in the room. I heard his voice for the first time as he greeted her and shook hands with her. “Good evening,” he said.

She replied, “Good evening, Shoghi Effendi.”

She stepped aside, and I was revealed to him in all my unworthiness. There was no place to hide.

Dr. Giachery had told me in Rome that each time he approached that door he got cold shivers down his spine, and that he felt like a little boy caught with jam on his face. He told me this, but he didn’t tell me that it was such a very cold shiver and that there was so very much jam.

Our eyes met. ‘Good evening,” he said, and I replied...

What I said, I can’t remember, because I saw him coming toward me. He held out his arms and embraced me. “We have been expecting you for a long time,” he said as he kissed me on the right cheek, then the left, then the right.

I clung to him ever so tightly. My predominate feeling was, “I have come home.” My chest hurt it felt so big. My throat was stopped up. My eyes tried to shed tears that were pouring from every part of my being, but the task was too great for them. They stored up and blinded me.

“We have heard much about you,” he said. I held him hoping I need never let go. “Now we are happy that you are with us at last.”

I turned back to the table to find my seat. It was directly opposite him, so close I could have reached over and touched his hand. When my vision cleared, I could see that every other eye was also misty. When the next pilgrim arrived, I would know why. Every Bahá’í heart is knitted to the other here and shares this ecstasy when the Guardian greets the new pilgrim for the first time. When I saw the next pilgrims come, I too wept with joy for them. I thought of the words of the Long Obligatory Prayer, “burn away the veils that have shut me out from Thy Beauty and [be] a light that will lead unto the ocean of Thy Presence.”

My fears had all vanished now, and I felt only a transcendent happiness. I watched the Guardian with wrapt attention and ever increasing devotion. This was as close, in our day, as man could come to the direct source of the power of God, His Majesty, His Justice, His Mercy and His Love. I felt them all flowing from the Guardian.

When he asked me about my journey I answered him and my words shamed me. I had made my living by words, but could think of nothing to say in his presence. My words were feeble, clumsy and uncertain. It was as though a glib tongue had been made fearful that it might try to say something witty or clever. This Guardian could be impressed by only one thing: service to the Faith. Nothing would ever influence his judgment — not wealth, position, power or friendship. The only gift that could be given to him was the gift of service.

One thing was apparent to me at once. My life was changing. My concept of the Faith, of teaching, of service — none of these would ever be the same again after that moment when he had said, “we are happy that you are here with us at last.”

I knew the terror in the words of Bahá’u’lláh, “I fear lest bereft of the melody of the dove of heaven, ye will sink back to the shades of utter loss.” I had gazed upon the “beauty of the rose” and could never again be content to return to “water and clay.”

One thing is certain; the being changes while at Haifa. Though one may fail to live up to the promises of this great blessing, though one may fail to serve as God requires, the price will be paid. Having seen the light, darkness is abhorrent. Only an unending sorrow can be the reward for those who, having tasted of the pure crystal stream, turn aside and drink from another.

The Guardian calls you to a higher service. He lifts you up to heights of limitless joy, and then sets you gently down. Having revealed the treasure, he requests the payment, which is service to the Faith of God.

Your only fear now is that you may fall short of the possibilities he has made you see in yourself.

He is a different thing to different people, I feel sure. He is a different Guardian to the same people on different days. Yet you feel that he is always the same at the center. He is like an ocean — a shelter for the fish that live upon his bounty, a storm of destruction for those who sail against his tide or into forbidden water. He is truly the Sign of God on earth. He is the present form of the Most Great Ocean of Bahá’u’lláh. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told us that the Covenant was this ocean. If we live within its strengthening grace, we prosper as fish gain strength in the waters of the sea. If we venture beyond its waters, we perish. If we do not feed upon its waters, we die within the sea itself; and, like dead bodies in the ocean, the waves of God spew us up and wash us onto the sands to wither and waste away.

You feel this power in the presence of the Guardian. I have heard it said that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá once told some American believers when He was in their country, “Now you have my love. Some day you will have my justice.” This justice is personified in the Guardian. You say, “Thank God for this Guardian!”

You know at once the strength of the Covenant, that Shoghi Effendi is the strong rope to which all must cling. Whenever I write of the Guardian and come to the pronoun, “he,” I instinctively want to capitalize it. He wouldn’t approve, as I do not. Still, in a small way it explains the need one feels for more lofty terms to express his presence.

I will try to describe him for you as he appears to the outer eye. Now, I know why there have been no adequate descriptions of him by the pilgrims. It is completely unimportant. It is describing a mirror when you can’t behold the sun that shines in it. It is describing a symphony by saying it has four movements when you can’t express the exhilaration and joy that its music stirs in you. This is more true of the Guardian. His is music unique to the planet. It is a spiritual language that transcends even a musical language. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said there was a spiritual language as different from our language as ours is from the cries of animals. This is the language of the presence of the Guardian. It cannot be expressed — it must be experienced. What is written here is but the shadow of the reality. Only a pilgrimage of your own will clothe it in flesh. If you have seen him, you will understand this.

The Guardian, as I remember him, is short in stature. His hair is dark, graying on the sides. He is of medium to dark complexion. He has dark eyes that seem to become a shade lighter when they are most animated as though they burned with some inner fire. His features are regular. He is smooth shaven except for a dark moustache. There is an energetic quality about his person, even when at rest. He is very sturdy. I judge this by the firmness I felt when he embraced me. He has small, slender hands that are shapely and expressive. All of his gestures are extremely graceful. He wore a rust-colored topcoat over his inner clothes all during the time I was there. His tie was always brown. He wears a slender gold Bahá’í ring on the second finger of his right hand.

Almost every evening he brought some new cable, map, drawing or document with him to the table. Frequently he discusses the work of the Faith with the Hands and the members of the International Council. The dinner table is long and narrow. It seats ten comfortably. The latest pilgrim used to sit at the head of the table. Now, Mason Remey sits there. The Guardian sits on his right and the latest pilgrim on Mason’s left, opposite Shoghi Effendi. Rúḥíyyíh Khánum sits on the Guardian’s immediate right. The pilgrim is only three feet away, yet a world away from him.

My time with him was doubly blessed because he was very happy throughout. The work of the Faith was progressing well, and this is the barometer of his spirit. He laughed much, chuckled very often, and, on two occasions, burst into hearty laughter. His joy carries everyone’s spirit soaring aloft with him.

Frequently he will nod his head up and down as though to emphasize a point he had just made. When word came of the opening of three new territories in West Africa, he was delighted. “Now,” he said, “we have opened two hundred and twenty five countries to the Faith.” Then he nodded his head as if to say, “yes, it’s true.” He never says, “I” or “me.” It is always “we” or “the Bahá’ís” or “the Faith” has done it.

No one speaks English as Shoghi Effendi speaks. There may be a moment’s hesitation as he searches for a word. Yet, each time he brings forth a jewel that inspires a quiver of delight.

One evening the Shrine of the Báb was surrounded by a white mist. The Guardian asked me if we had seen it. “The Shrine,” he said, was “the Queen of Carmel, seated upon her throne, robed in white and crowned with gold.”

As the evening passes, your fear increases that soon he will leave. He touches his serviette-ring with his eloquent finger, then, with a characteristic gesture of finality, he pushes it forward toward the center of the table. This means that he is about to leave. The moment you dreaded has arrived. Each time he touches that serviette-ring, you say quietly to yourself, “don’t let him leave just yet.” You try to think of some earth-shaking question to ask that will delay his departure. Nothing comes.

He rises. All rise with him. He bids us each a personal good night with the wish that we may sleep well. Sometimes he will refer to the next day’s plans.

“I hope you have a good night’s rest. Tomorrow you will go to Bahjí, to the Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh. Yes.”

His head nods up and down. His lovely eyes bestow upon each of us a loving glance. He smiles again and leaves.

The overpowering feeling of emotion, which you associate with the Guardian, never leaves you after that first meeting. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s words live in the Guardian. We must go forward; we can’t stand still; that is stagnation. Movement, speed, action — yet all accomplished in an atmosphere of assurance and calm. The closer we are to him, the more active we become, the more accelerated our pace; yet; the more sublime our attitude and the less panicky our methods.

The Guardian moves across the vast spaces to be conquered by the Faith as a cyclone moves. Its speed is astounding, yet at the heart of the cyclone all is peace as it moves. The farther one is from this tranquil center, the more violent the reaction. If we have withdrawn from the center and are on the outer fringes, we are torn to bits and destroyed. We must move with the power or be shattered by the impact.

This is what it is like to be in the presence of the Guardian. He is the power of electricity that can heat, warm, comfort and light our lives, but if we misuse it we are destroyed. He is the breeze that cools you when you are feverish, the wind that sails your craft speeding on its way, the gentle breath that shakes the ripened fruit and drops it at your feet, the gale, the hurricane that rushes in to crush what has become a vacuum.

You can feel the heat of his pace, you are shaken by the draft of his passing, and you can see the light of his spirit. He is a giant comet that blazes across the sky, drawing into his orbit all the bits of matter that can feed the flame of his fire. All that can burn with this same fire are drawn in to increase the brightness. Those who are not attracted by this magnetic power, who are not drawn into his orbit to burn with the rest, see this blazing ball of fire thunder past. They may try, too late, to enter, but the moment for the junction is passed. The fiery tail of the comet sweeps by them and they are left in the darkness.

This is the Guardian. I have emphasized the feeling of action most of all because it predominates the others. Action — then results. Not big projects planned, but small projects completed. He does not interest himself in what you are going to do, but in what you have done.

Even more important than this urgency for action, is the need for obedience. The very breath of life within the Faith, you feel, is obedience. Bahá’u’lláh said of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that whoever obeys Him, obeys God. The Master said of Shoghi Effendi in His Will and Testament that whoever obeys him, obeys God.

You know now that there can be no partial obedience to God. If there is, you have only a partial understanding of the Faith, and you get only partial results. You have investigated and made you choice; you have exercised your independence in coming to the Faith. Now is the time for obedience. In the well-known words of the Faith: “Instant, exact and complete obedience.” We must be like the great cypress trees standing outside the Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh. They bow and bend low before the breeze of God from whichever direction it may blow.

The Guardian said that the friends feel that it is difficult to leave their homes and pioneer, even to move to the goals inside their own countries. They do not see that he is not asking them to sacrifice. He is protecting them from themselves. He is protecting them not only from the calamity that is rushing toward them outwardly, but he is protecting them from the calamity that is rushing toward them inwardly.

“America,” he said, “is no longer even actively quarreling. They are passively stagnant.” This is why, he said, that he asked them to disperse — so that they may become alive again and not wither. They will now be punished, he told a pilgrim, both materially and spiritually if they do not disperse. Those who now fail to respond to the summons of the Crusade will suffer both materially and spiritually. Those who do not respond to the commander, he said, will feel this double suffering.

You are in the Guardian’s presence but a short time, and you wish to saddle your horse, buckle on your sword, and, casting aside the joy of rest of your pilgrimage, cry out, “Mount your steeds, O heroes of God!” Rúḥíyyih Khánum, herself said one night, “Shoghi Effendi, if you keep on speaking so movingly, I’ll have to leave and pioneer.”

You have the desire to be commanded in order that you may obey. Here you lose forever that feeling, so common in the West, of rebellion at commands. You see obedience in a new light: a light of protection, service, accomplishment and joy.

When Shoghi Effendi leaves the room after the evening meal, the room becomes quite silent for some time. All eyes are watching the door through which he has gone. Parts of our hearts have gone with him. It is a good thing because the part he has left with us is too much for us to carry. We must share it with each other or burst. Eyes slowly, unwillingly, turn from the door of his departure. We look at each other as though we remember for the first time who we are.

Deep sighs are heard on every side as we breathe out the last of that air of his presence. These sighs are more eloquent than words. They say, “Isn’t it wonderful! Oh, if only we could be worthy of him!”

Gently we stir about. We have come back from a different world. It is empty in this one without him. You wish it were tomorrow night already. You seat yourselves at the table, or you go up to the sitting room where you can repeat to each other all that he said.

These sweet sighs of tenderness and love stay with you long into the Haifa nights. You relive each moment with the Guardian over and over again — wide eyes in the dark night. You do not wish to close them or to waste these precious, intoxicating hours in sleep.

It is now the last night of your pilgrimage. Your cup is running over. There is no more room. This wonderful Water of Life is running down the sides. You are eager to rush off to your post before any is lost or wasted. Your eyes hungrily drink in this last glimpse of your beloved Guardian.

Finally the moment of heartache comes. The Guardian pushes his ringed serviette forward for the last time. His eyes look across the table and into yours. He understands. You feel that you are an arrow pulled back to the farthest stretching point in his bow. He now has only to let go and you will speed on your way to the task he has assigned.

Yet, anxious as you are to be about his work, you long to remain in his presence. Eager as you are to try your newfound wings, you regret leaving the nest.

He rose. We followed. He came to me. Our beloved Guardian took both of my hands in his. Warm love streamed from his thoughts into my very being. The Sign of God on earth looked into my eyes: love, kindness, forgiveness surrounded me. I, who had given nothing, had received everything. I, who had neglected God and failed repeatedly, had been welcomed as an only son at this table of God, the fragrant perfume of which shall never leave me.

I was being sent out into the vineyard of God as one worthy of his hire. The banquet was ended and he now was placing upon my shoulders whatever burden I wished to bear for Bahá’u’lláh’s sake.

A pilgrim is reported to have told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that he would love to be near Him always. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá is said to have replied, “The way to be near to me, is to be far from me. Service in the Kingdom is nearness to God.”

“There are two visits,” ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had said to one of the very first pilgrims to the Holy places. “The first is for a blessing; then ye come and are sent forth to walk in God’s vineyard; the second — ye come with banners flying, like soldiers, in gladness and triumph to receive your reward.”

Our beloved Guardian told us, “The pilgrimage is given to you that you may take in and then give out, to receive and then impart, to absorb and then bestow. Without this there has been no pilgrimage. It will dissolve into nothing.”

This Holy Land is the heart of the Faith. The heart purifies the bloodstream. The blood, filled with impurities, finally reaches the heart. There it is purified and restored, and is pumped back out into all parts of the body with enriched vitality so it may feed the tissues and give them life.

The pilgrim comes to the land of his Beloved, to the heart of the Cause, laden with the impurities of the world. Here, he is refreshed and restored, so that he may go back into the vineyard to bring the love-creating, life-restoring word of God into all parts of the earth.

In this last moment, you learn the supreme lesson: it does not matter what you have done, who you may be, what your powers, talents and background in the Faith may have been up until now. Nothing matters except your complete consecration to Bahá’u’lláh from this moment on. All else is secondary. Without this, all your gifts are valueless. Bahá’u’lláh will raise up others who, however humble, unlearned or untrained, have the virtue of dedication, and they will do what you, with all your gifts, have failed to do. The hour spoken of by the Báb has come again: “Beware, lest by turning back, He may change you for another people, who shall not be your like and who shall take from you the Kingdom of God.”

This is what it means to be in the presence of Shoghi Effendi.

Sad, sweet music filled my being, and I looked upon my Guardian. My pilgrimage is over. I must go from this heaven of heavens.

The Guardian came around the head of the table to take my hands in parting. I clung to them, trying to drain courage from them. He said he would pray for the success of the work in South Africa.

Then he embraced me! He kissed me upon the cheeks. I pressed him to my heart. He smiled lovingly at me.

“I hope when you make your next pilgrimage,” he said, “that you will bring some of you African children with you.”

Then he was gone!

Since you can’t hold back the sun, four o’clock the next afternoon rushed in upon me. Everyone gathered on the white marble steps of #10 Persian St. to say farewell.

Of Rúḥíyyih Khánum, Leroy Ioas, Millie Collins, Mason Remey, Luṭfu’lláh Ḥakím, Sylvia Ioas, Jessie and Ethel Revell, Muḥammad Tabrizí, Muḥammad Bahá’í Sola and all these dear friends, I have written elsewhere. Here let me say only this: whoever the pilgrim may be, he is surrounded here by an affection and kindness unparalleled. Each pilgrim is made to feel that he, and he alone, is the one pilgrim for whom they have all been waiting all these long years to welcome.

I entered the cab. The tender kiss of Millie Collins helped to heal the pain of parting. “We shall pray for you,” she said.

As we left Haifa, I watched the Shrine through the window of the cab. I twisted my head with each turn of the taxi keeping that gleaming dome in sight to the very last moment. I recalled the words of the Guardian, spoken to us the night he had seen the Shrine in the mist. “She is the Queen of Carmel,” he said, “seated upon her throne, robed in white and crowned with gold.”

The pilgrim suddenly was whisked from the world of God back into the world of man.

[END]

Notes Part Two scan

Scanned by Keith Bookwalter, 2020

Notes Part Three text

It was our last day in Bahji. We have written elsewhere of our first to the Shrine of Baha’u’llah of the Garden of Ridvan and o of the Masraih Mansion. Today we were to visit all these precious places associated with Baha’u’llah and the Master in prison city of Akka.

In a large, modern station wagon, fortified by a delicious breakfast, we drove leisurely toward the city famous since the day of the Old Testament, the Crusaders, Richard the Lion-hearted, Saldin, Napoleon; a city that has to be as renowned in the future for the love of humanity city that had arisen there as it had been in the past for the hate which had encamped there.

We stopped the car along the seashore outside the gate of the old city near the spot where the sailing vessel which had carried Baha’u’llah from Haifa had anchored. Soon we began to resent the ease with which we travelled, the comfort, the tasty food, the fine clothes. We began to abhor everything of luxury about us. With each additional step, the longing increased to share in the sorrows and hardships that had been the lot of Baha’u’llah.

The eyes looked out across the blue-green bay toward Haifa. Where Baha’u’llah had arrived on board a steamer, had been transferred to a sailing ship which had carried Him and His family and followers to this very shore before us. To our right, the sea splashed high up against the walls of the old city in distant thunder. A few feet in front of us, the swells rose and broke with a gentle rush along the beach. An overturned row-boat was drying its healthy timbers in the wind alongside a broken skeleton of past glory – yesterday and today side by side.

The Beloved of our hearts had come to this very shore where our feet now stood. Somewhere near His own dear footsteps had passed over this same rough land, fulfilling prophecy each step along the way. Muhammad had said, “All of them (the companions of the Bab) shall be slain except one who shall the plain of Akka, the Banquet-hall of God.”

The eye of the spirit could picture again that weary band of exiles passing through that hostile crowd of city-dwellers who had gathered here on this shore to see the “God of the Persians.” They had been warned against this_____ from a far-off land, and was through the midst of this atmosphere of prepared hatred (which one took the place of the sweet, free April air we were now breathing) that Baha’u’llah and His loyal friends walked to and through the gate of the city, that was to close its cold prison walls ___ him for nine years.

With closed eyes and the sound of water beating its rhythm on the shore, we said the “Remover of Difficulties”, and we could feel about us the presence of those who brought the seed of life to this barren land over eighty years ago.

Ahead of us lay the city of Akka with air so putrid, according to the proverb, that a bird when, flying over it would drop dead. This was the penal colony in which the Turkish and Persian a authorities felt that Baha’u’lllah and Ma Faith would pass away forever. Before the eyes of the Pilgrims in our party was the great iron gate of the walled city, the gate which had closed upon the Blessed Beauty and had shut him up, they hoped, forever until He would waste inside this “most desolate of cities” as Baha’u’llah. Himself, had called it, a city “most unsightly in appearance, most detestable in climate, foulest in water” this “metropolis of the owl.”

We drove through the newer part of Akka down to the great sweep of sandy beach where a stormy wind lashed the great breakers and drove them as far up on the land as possible. We turned left and would our way over the down into the hill down into the old city again and parked our car just inside the great wall. As we got out, the wind blew everyone’s coat collar up around the neck. The day was still gray, misty and chill. The cold crashing of the surf punctuated the silent spots in our conversation as we stood, our backs to the seawall, gazing across the way it the House of Abbud.

The sea, the wind, the swirling mist, none could cool down the ardour that stirred inside the Pilgrim as we looked upon this grey shell of a house that once sheltered the Supreme Prophet of God. This was once the sanctuary of the Supreme Pen. Its walls had resounded to the words of the Most Great Book, the Mighty Acids; Here were formed the laws which would stand inviolate and unaltered for a thousand years Here were fashioned the provisions which would lay the foundation for the greatest structure in the socia1 history of mankind. Here those ancient prophetic words had come true, “The Government shall be upon His shoulder. Here the Author of the Bahai Faith, protected by these blessed walls from the stinging wind of the sea, had poured out the fairest fruit of all His Revelation, the Aqdas — among all the writings which had streamed forth in never-ending river from His holy pen.

What a plain, structure. Two stories in height with a small balcony around the second floor front, drab grey in color, bleak in appearance – beautiful to the believer!

We were staring silently up at the balcony which surrounds the bedroom of Baha’u’llah. Many long hours He placed this balcony, looking out over the sea and down upon the very earth where we were standing. This small balcony which can be crossed in less than ten places, furnished almost the only outside exercise for Baha’u’llah in seven long years of imprisonment within the walls of this house.

There was a long quiet pause as the Pilgrims looked up in thanksgiving to the Almighty for this humble house, this simple setting for the Most Precious Jewel of God.

No doubt every mind was filled with different memories, stories recalled from various books. Once these stories had been but words caught between two covers, but now during the Pilgrimage they were all coming alive with reality.

Finally one of the Pilgrims coughed. The spell was broken. Cameras appeared on all sides. We had come back from that other sweet real to this plane to laugh and talk and walk. This experience is repeated time after time throughout the Pilgrimage, as the poor pilgrim with his weak human body flies back and forth between these two worlds so unlike, one of God and one of man. The transfer is shattering, and by the end of one’s stay it has completely exhausted these untrained spirits. To be alone, solitary and uninterrupted, becomes an overpowering need. The being too is saturated. Tiny incidents, small happenings, perhaps a glimpse a view, a smile, a comment later – you will recall these surprising even yourself. You had lost them in the Olympian presence of these momentous; sights and Memories. These are the ocean, the others happy little rivulets. But later you will find a beauty and a joy in them, too, that will cheer and comfort you. This account is being recorded more than a month after the pilgrimage, and forgotten corners are constantly being illuminated. Everyone will tell you that it takes some time for your pilgrimage to have its full realization. Believe them!

Before entering the House, we walked to the small public square in the rear. Our gracious host, Leroy Ioas, holding his hat and coat-collar against a wind that whirled cyclones of Akka dust across the courtyard, shoved us the exact spot Master had stood and distributed alms and food to the poor.

Whenever the Master would be mentioned, a blanket of warming love would fall about our shoulders. We hoped in our hearts that our feet were Walking where ate had Walked. Never could we follow in His match-less footsteps, but if only we could walk in fits shadow. We knew we must try. Then, as if by telepathy, Leroy said, “You are walking in the footsteps of the Master.

“No one can ever fill those heaven-sent shoes again.”

No, but we must do our best. “Look at Me” Abdu’l Baha, told us. ‘Be as I am.”

Just then an entirely out of place 1953 vey Chevrolet brought us rudely back to this era as it made its way around a hat-brim curve lead ins off the square. With .gratitude we saw a tiny cart drawn by an adorable little-donkey lumber into view. We captured many of these scenes permanently on color-film.

Sala led is back between the houses and into the aide door of the House of Abbud. We crossed an inner court and started up a flight of stairs turning to, the right twice and continuing to climb until we reached the living quarters of the Holy Family. We saw the small room that held thirteen believers the first night spent in this house. We saw the upper shelf which one of the friends had slept upon that first night, and, following over too far to one side, had toppled down upon the Master. . We removed our shoes and walked across another room of soft carpets, through a small hallway and then turned left into Baha’u’llah’s bedroom. Against the wall on the sea-side of the room was a long cushioned bench. Upon the South end, toward Haifa, rested the taj of Baha’ u’llah marking the place where He would often sit. A few feet away, along the South wall, was a rocking chair which He used. Upon the floor, a precious carpet brought with them all the way from Adrianople.

As I write this now in Johannesburg, I am back there again. I can feel my pulse accelerate and my heart beat strong. The atmosphere of these holy places never leaves you. It comes rushing back whenever you turn to Akka and Haifa.

Hour after hour, month after month, year upon year, Baha’u’llah had moved back and forth in this room. At times He would turn left in the doorway and go ode onto the balcony while runs across the front of the house. After Sala chanted a prayer, we followed Baha’u’llah’s path to the balcony and looked out upon the turbulat sea. The wind, it seemed to us, was still whipping up the indifferent Mediterranean and driving to us it toward the shore, where in mighty rollers it bowed and prostrated itself before the throne of Majesty.

We stood on the balcony and as mentioned in the Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, we counted forty waves while repeating each time “God is Most Great!”. If the heart is pure, we are told, God will forgive ones sins, both past, and futures.

We knew that these b1essings were beyond the heart that we had brought to this shore. It felt, as heavy as the big fragments of broken sea wail lying off to the left, lifeless and useless beside the great opening from which they had been torn. Like those huge lumps, the heart felt as though it too, were failing to be part of the great wall of protect ion that guards the shores of Baha’u’llah’s Faith. Too many times had it been covered over and soaked in the sea of materialism and rolled away from its place in the Great Wall. Separated thus there could be but one end; soon it would crumble and be washed away into the sea forever.

When you first arrive in the Holy Land you think, “What a banquet I have been invited to enjoy soon you realize that this is mi special banquet for your presence. This nourishing soul-rebuilding food you are receiving is the daily bread of the Faith. This is the power that makes for accomplishment. You understand clearly that you have had only partial success because you have been a partial, or part-time channel for this spirit that works the miracle. Now you fully realize that nothing less than a complete reordering of your life, your methods and especially your motives can be acceptable to God and to yourself. The Pilgrimage is not an eye-opener. It is an eye-lid remover. Never again will you be able to close that curtain of comfort upon your shortcomings. There is no escape! They are exposed and. you cannot shut your eyes upon them. The structure of this personality you so much admired has been levelled to the ground. Frantically you scurry through the ruins, searching for some worthwhile and useful fragment to help you to rebuild at once upon than old. It is a pitiful, sad spectacle to behold the helpless little places that are left to you and that are worthy of going into the new structure. Thoughts such as these fill your moments between places of pilgrim-age: in the darkness of your bedroom at Bahji, in the car as it whizzes to Masraih, in the moments you sit alone in the Pilgrim House gazing out of the window up at the Shrine of the Bab, or now as you stand here on this balcony with the wind burning the tears to your eyes, tears that your heart has-been longing to shed. What are the other Pilgrims thinking? You do not know, but your love for them increases a hundred-fold. You are certain that somehow, you are all undergoing the tumult of this reformation. They send for you. It is time to visit the room where Baha’u’llah revealed the Aqdas. The room of revelation is quite different from the others. It was also Abdu’l Baha’s bedroom. It is panelled in wood, which is to be found in other places associated with the Master. This bedroom is in the back corner of the House. We could look down’ into the back courtyard. The donkey and the cart were still there. We saw many of the books of Abdu’l-Baha, His writing equipment, the simple iron bed, many things that were much loved by Him and are revered by all who look upon them. Above all else, the mind tried to take in the staggering truth that here in this room, a room that is simplicity itself, was revealed the Body of Laws, the Most Great Book, the Might lest written testimony since the beginning of our recorded time. Its Author could cast His Shadow of guidance for five hundred thousand years’. It is too much to understand. The mind willingly surrenders and turns to namine the surroundings, the little things it can comprehend.

Abdu’l Baha sat here, He knelt here He looked out this window. But irresistibly your thought keeps coming back to what inescapable fact: It was here that Baha’u’llah revealed the Aqdas.

Emptying yourself of every single this that the mind can cling to, you ask Almighty God into your heart a true appreciation of this experience you are undergoing. The body is incapable. There has been too short a time. The presence and significance of these holy places are like hammer-blows to those of us who have lived in a world so remote from the spirit. The spirit is a living breathing overpooring reality.

Those veritable spiritual thunderbolts: the Shrine of Baha’u’llah of the Bab, and, of Abdu’1 Baha, the room at Bahji where Baha’u’llah passed away, the mansion of Masraih, the Garden of Ridvan all had numbed the senses until the cup could not contain the flood. Not cup, but thimble, one should say, with no thought of false modesty or humility. These vanish at Haifa end Alas. Assumed virtues cannot live in this pure air and one acutely feels that no receptacle is tiny enough to describe the amount of this atmosopher4 which he is capable ,f holding. You have removed your shoes, bard your head, and pressed your fore-head to the floor. These feeble expressions are helpless even in an outward way to convey the lamer wank er of your heart. The air seems to throb with the lingering pro son2 of the Holy Spirit which pervades ell the Manifestations of God. The book that is the unerring balance for a thousand years flowed out in ink upon immortal pages here. This Book, Bah, u, Himself, has said, is “The breath of life to all created things.’ In gush manner bath the Kitabi-Aqdas been revealed that it attracted and embraced all the divinely appointed Dispensations. Blessed those who peruse it! Blessed those who apprehend it! Blessed those who meditate upon it! Blessed those who ponder its meaning “So vast”, He says, is its range that it hath encompassed all men are their recognition of it. Erelong w.A1 its sovereign power, its pervasive influence and the greatness of its might be manifest on earth.

Each of us said a prayer before departing from this area of future civilization. Then we made our way downstairs. There we additional conversation, but none of it registers. The hearing was working, but the comprehension and recording Instruments were unable to function. This was a mercy from God. The body must be much like an electrical system. It can successfully carry its normal load of power, but when subjected suddenly to an incredibly strong current, it “blows out” the fuse at its point of protection. A similar phenomenon happens to the pilgrim, several times, in fact. Loathing breaks the connection and permits no more impulses to register. The system cannot bear them. 1Bahatusl1ah has written of this writ, saying of the wine of revelation that it is so inebriating to the Prophet, Himself, that the pen is stilled and can move no more.

If the Creative Channel cannot *attain its impact, pity the poor created clay.

The stet cams out gaily for a brief moment, for the first time, as we strolled through the picturesque struts of “Old Akka”. It splashed against the drab earth-colored walls and transformed them into a happy tan. We traced our way along many of the favorite walks of the Master. We paused and took photographs in the doorway of the house of the former Mufti of Akka. He had been a bitter enemy of Baha’u’llah. Sala , the caretaker of Bahji, told us the Story of the two attempts on the life of Baha’u’llah made by this Mufti while Baha’u’llah was in prison. Once with a hidden dagger, but Baha’u’llah before admitting Him to His present, said, “Let him first cleanse his hands.” A second time, the Mufti planned to strangle the Blessed Beauty and Baha’u’llah said before admitting him, “First, let him cleanse his heart.” The Mufti became an ardent believer and collected all the “Traditions” to be found in his Faith about Akka.

We twined our way through the streets, under the archways, through the gateways, past the fragrant smell of baking bread. The fires of the ovens looked inviting on this bitingly chill Sunday morning. We entered the courtyard of the, caravanserai called Khan-i-Avamid. This was Where the followers of Baha’u’llah, who were unable to accompany Him when He was transferred from the prison barracks, were lodged. We stopped to rest at a little, out-door tea shop by the sea. The inhospitable weather drove us inside. There Leroy was our host for steaming cups of Turkish coffee. What a delightful city “Old Akka” Is to visit. Sala, who was born within its wall’’, greeted almost everyone. Le told us many intriguing stories about t non-Baha’i history as well. We entered a small door built In one of the lower walls o the prison, walked to the center of a cellar-like cavern. Below us excavation had been started. How strange to know that beneath the prison lies this famous church built by Richard the Lion-hearted. The peaked earth on which are stood was high up toward the top -of the Gothic arches. The pillars were buried many, many fest in the solid earth below us. We visited the Mosque where Abdu’l Baha used to pray every Friday. We had aeon its delicate minaret against the sky from far-off Bahji the day before. Now, following in the way of the hater we removed our shoes and went up to the spot where Abdu’l-Baha would kneel. We prayed that the day might hasten when these people would recognize the One for whose coming they offered their supplications in this Mosque.

The Mulla took us into the administrative office. He showed us the huge oil painting of a vial; Moslem scholar and writer who had collected so many prophecies about the city of Akka. They told us about his life and they were very proud of great things promised by God for their city of Akka for the future, little knowing that as they await their future, they are in reality living in the past while the others waited at the Mosque, Sala and this pilgrim returned to the House of Abbud to bring back the station wagon. Sala showed me the house whore the Guardian had been born, where the very first Pilgrims to Akka had come before this century began. Sala stopped. He pointed out the house to which Baha’u’llah had been taken in custody when some of His followers had disobeyed His commands, quarrelled with three enemies of the Faith and slot them. Baha’u’llah was dictating Tablets to His secretary when troops surrounded His house. Crowds gathered quickly. They allotted at Baha’u’llah as the Governor, sword in hand, led him away for questioning. His innocence was established and Baha’u’llah was freed, and the Governor apologized for his own bad behaviour.

“That is the house, there on the left, where it all happened”, said Sala.

Of this event, Baha’u’llah wrote, “hot captivity cannot harm Me. That which can harm me is the conduct of those who love Me, who claim to be related to Me, and yet perpetrate that causeth My heart and My pen to groan.”

We drove back to the. Mosque and while Sala went in to collect the others, there was time to, cross the street and examine the Mosque from afar. The entrance is but a short distance from the beak of the prison fortress. This Is the Mosque where the imperial farman of Sultan Abdu’l Aziz had been read, proclaiming Balla’ u’llah and His family and followers to be the object of the hatred of everyone. It decreed that none should associate with them and that they should not be allowed to associate with each other.

The dome of the Mosque to not quite visible from the opposite side of the street, but the tall, slender minaret to the right, the dome points like a finger to the sky. Just at this moment, the muezzin began to circumnambulate the outer wall high aloft on the minaret. His voice called the faithful to prayer. It would alternately swell and fade as it was favored or neglected k by the breeze from the sea.

“Allah’ulAkbart”

Baha’u’llah from his prison-cell must have heard this summons many, many times. As we watched the muezzin circle the minaret, we thought, “He was calling men to prayer, while be one who was calling them to God lay imprisoned within the sound of his voice.” Muhammad, Himself, had foretold, these days. He had called Akka a “city in Syria to which God bath shown His special may.” “Blessed is the man that hath visited the visitor of Akka.” There arose inside the pilgrim a great, surging desire to mount the many steps of the minaret and to change the call from .Allah’u’akbat” to “Allah’u’Abhat The Promised One has comet The Sun of God has risen again’. Alas, that it is shining upon this city of the blind. Open your eyes before it is too late. This is Akka, the city that David in his psalms called the ‘strong city’. Hosea offered it to mankind as a ‘door of hope’.” By the time the tumult inside the bread had subsided, the muezzin had descended. The others rejoined us, and we began our approach to the prison itself. The steps up which Baha’u’llah had walked .do enter the fortress that first time have been taken down. They have left their soar across the body of the prison wall. We all stopped and gazed up at the marks of that old stairway. This was as far as we could retrace the steps of banishment. In order to enter the prison, we had to drive around the city to the front by the sea wall. This vas to be the last stop of the day before we returned to Bahji for lunch with Ruhiyyih Khanum and Mason Remey.

We parked by the gate, passed the guards, and walked about three hundred yards up to the prison entrance. As you cross the small bridge over the moat, you can see the cannon-balls of Napoleon embedded in the walls. They are splashed with red paint to make them easily visible. Passing through a small arched entrance, we approached the courtyard. The prison is now a hospital for the insane and feeble-minded. You can see them exercising in the very Courtyard where the believers were herded together that first day. The pilgrims turned sharply to the right and were up a long flight of outside stairs, then up a short flight to the left. This brought us to the outer entrance to the cell-block. Out beyond the roofs lay the timeless blue bay of Haifa.

There was a sound of heavy keys rattling in a meal door, the door swung open, and you entered the prison barracks. Passing through an ante-rodo of poor, unfortunate sick ones, you enter the cell-block. In the far left-hand corner-is a plaque, which reads: Baha’i Holy Place. This is the cell of Baha’u’lah. The plaque is written in both English and Hebrew.

We removed our shoes outside the great door, and then entered the prison-cell where over two years Baha’u’llah had been shut away from the world. This was the heart of the “most Great Prison.” Even the Black Pit in Tihran, the Siyyih-chal, a place foul beyond comparison, a dungeon wrapped in thick darkness so dreadful that no tongue could describe its loathsome smell, had not been called by such a name.

Upon coming to this penal colony in Akka, Baba’ u’llah had said, “Know thou that upon our arrival at this spot. We chose to designate it as Most Great Prison. Though previously subjected in another land to chains and fetters. We yet refused to call it by that name. Say: Ponder thereon, O ye endued with understanding.

It was of this spot that Baha’u’llah had breathed the prayer, “we pray that, out of His bounty. — exalted be He – He may release, through this imprisonment, the necks of men from chains and fetters..!!

The cell was barren and desolated in Baha’u’llah’s day. Now there is a Persian carpet in the corner where He used to sit. There are five straight-backed chairs upon which the Pilgrims sit. One window looks out upon old Akka. The other two windows look out upon the sea. These are the windows shown in most of the photographs. From here Baha’u’llah would look out toward that spot beyond the moat where His followers would stand hoping for a glimpse of His hand waving from the window. We all stood and peered out at that same spot and to the white-capped sea beyond it. Later we walked out to that place of bliss and sorrow and looked back up at these two forlorn windows. The face of the prison is bruised and scarred from shell-fire. Slowly the conversation hushed. Memories came back of the eager Pilgrim from Mosul who had stood here so long ago. As he had dong we too gazed in wrapt adoration at the window of the Beloved. We shared again his heartbreak when we reached the long hours he had stood here waiting to see the face of the Blessed Beauty, only to turn away disconsolate and go back to thtalle in which he lived on Mount Carmel. We could see the place from which the Holy Family of Baha’u’llah, from afar, had watched the frustration of his hopes. They were unable to reach the pilgrim to tell him that his Beloved was at the window and had waved, and that it was only his own feeble eyesight that had kept him from seeing Baha’u’llah. The Face Is no longer at the window and there is no Hand to wave to the pilgrim of today, but the puls1till throbs with wonder and feels those powerful radiations of love hat flew back and forth across this desolate barrier.

Inside the prison-cell itself, the heart is touched and saddened by the sight of that bleak, unfragrant room. True, it has been cleaned and restored, but here and there upon the floor are small fragments of paint and plaster which have fallen from the ceiling and walls. These are a grim reminder of the chilling dampness of this dismal place.

Here in this cell, where but a few places carries you from and to end, Baha’u’llah spent over two years of His precious life. Here it was that Baha’u’llah, Himself, said that His sufferings had reached their culmination.

Our eyes bestowed loving prayers upon each of these places of anguish. After all these years, and even with the reformations, it is still unsanitary and foul in three barracks. The mind refuses to try and picture the misery and abomination that must have surrounded Baha’u’llah upon His arrival here. We know that they were herded together, deprived of food and drink, that malaria, dysentery and the sickening heat added to their sorrows. All were ill but two. It was here that the two brothers had died the same night locked in each other’s arms. Baha’u’llah sold His carpet to provide for their winding sheets and burial, but the guards had kept the money and cast them in a pit unwashed and enshrouded.

“None”, Baha’u’llah has written, “knoweth what befall Us except Gods the Almighty, the all knowing... from the foundation of the world until the present day cruelty such as this hath neither been seen nor heard of.

The heart of the pilgrim is unbearably heavy. Not only at the contemplation of the agonies borne by Baha’u’llah, but even more so be of the shameful emptiness of the cup of service he has brought here to the Faith to repay these hours, of grief.

This is where Baha’u’llah’s young son, Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, was killed. He was pacing the roof at twilight reciting his prayers. He fell through an unguarded skylight onto a wooden orate below which pierced his ribs and took his life in less than a day. It was here that this sweet son pleaded with his Father, Baha’u’llah, that his life be not saved, but that it be offered as a ransom so that the pilgrims, who so longed for His healing presence, might be permitted 1 attain their heart’s desire. Now, we stood here in this prison at Akka, the latest of an endless flow of pilgrims admitted to this blessing by his sacrifice, with what pangs of tender sorrow we had stood among the archives at Haifa and looked down upon his robe stained with that final flow from the red river of his sonorous heart. We cried quietly Inside at the sight of the small stone pebbles found ix, his picket. He was so close to us then. A boy, yet a man, a ransom of God. At his tomb in the Monument gardens, we repeated the words, of Balla’u’llah written about him.

“Thou art the trust of God and His treasure in this Land. Erelong will God reveal through thee that which He hath desired.”

“I have, O My Lord,” Baha’u’llah said in a prayer revealed in memory of Mirza Mihdi, “offered up that which Thou heat given me, that Thy servants may be quickened, and all that dwell on earth be united.” Inside that wondrous prison-cell, one felt not only the privations and hardships of Baha’u’llah, but one felt also the overpowering sense of greatness that charged the air, the, majesty, the potency, the authority that had poured forth from here unto all the world. Within a few feet of where the pilgrims eat, perhaps on the very spot where we rented, Baha’u’llah had reveal some of His most weighty tablets. This was the scene of which the Guardian has written, “His writings), during the years. of His confinement in the Most Great Prison, surpassed the outpourings of His pen in either Adrianople or Baghdad... this unprecedented extension in the range of His writings, during His exile in that Prison, must rank as one of the most vitalizing and fruitful stages in the evolution of His Faith.”

From here Baha’u’llah wrote many of His tablets to the kings of the earth, proclaiming that the only remedy for the ills of the world was the union of all its peoples in one common faith and that only a Divine, inspired physician could bring this to Pass.

Many were the wholesome truths that flowed from that Sum’ Ale Pen within this prison cell. Each of these tablets and writings took on a near .force since we had come to the scene of their origin.

We bowed to the cold stone to offer thanks to. Almighty God for bestowing upon us the eyes that see His glory and the ears that hear His music for granting us the inner sight that makes us cherish this simple, barren cell as a Throne of Majesty, ma. I beautiful and enduring than the most priceless palace outside.

Alone, imprisoned, persecuted, outwardly powerless, Baha’u’llah had hurled His challenge into the World. This message of Justice now had conquered the meadows and hearts of men in over two hundred countries. His Power, His Majesty,’ His Dominion increase with each sunrise while the names and memorise of those Who Him here and who opposed Him recede farther into oblivion each day. Truly “from out of prison He has come to reign.”

This illustrious Being,” Abdul Baha stated, uplifted his Ca se in the Most Great Prison.” “His light at first had been a star; no t became a mighty sun.” “Until our time,” He added, “no such thing has ever occurred.” “The Almighty...hath transformed this Prison-house into the Most Exalted Paradise, the Heaven of Heavens.”

The pilgrim feels this transcendental greatness each step along the Oath of pilgrimage. When the time comes to leave this prison-cell, the heart rebels. It is reluctant to depart from this scene of the culmination of Baha’u’llah’s sufferings. There are so many prayers still left unsaid, such a deep yearning to share in these tribulations still left unfulfilled. The door, that did not open for Baha’u’llah for two years, swings wide for you, then grinds closed upon its hinges. We put our shoes, everyone stint, lost in the weight of their thoughts which hold words down, unformed. This was the last stop today in Akka. we were grateful. We wanted no conversation; no invasion of that please the mind had set aside for reflecting upon this unequalled experience.

There was no receptiveness to truly appreciate the stories told as we descended the stairs; the room below where the rest of the pilgrims had been gartered the Place where the Master had made broth for all — made broth with little more than air for ingredients. His words spoken in London sent another sliver of pain into the body. Ha had made so mush broth in those days, He said, that He could make a very good broth with very little. How the Master loved His wonderful Father. He told of this loathsome prison: how Bah’u’llah would call the pilgrims together, would make them laugh at their troubles, until they forgot their stone beds, the leak of food and water. He banished the pain of their illness and the ravages of their fever. He would tell them stories and lift their hearts. He would start them to laughing so loudly that they must be cautioned for tier the sentinels would believe they were mad, that they could laugh and enjoy themselves in these conditions of utter dreadfulness. What tenderness must have been in the Master’s eyes as He placed His graceful hand upon the luxurious furniture of the western world and said, “‘We had no chairs such as this in the prison of Akka; no soft beds to lie upon; no delicious foods to nourish us. But I would not exchange all of these days for one moment of the sweetness of those hours in the presence of the Blessed Beauty.”

Dear God: The pilgrim’s heart must break beneath this weight He searches every corner of his life for the slightest ray of explanation why he in all this world of created beings should be one of those so enriched as to recognize and accept the Manifestation of God for this great day of the Lord, to be blessed thus beyond any dream of wealth. The pilgrim knows in this hour, as he has never known before, that where Baha’u’llah is, there is life. Where His Faith is there is hope. Without Him life is an empty, sightless thing; with Him it is ever green and beautiful whether in a prison or a mansion.

Seeing these poor, misfortunate inmates bf the asylum for the last time, one thinks, How like the entire world is this prison barracks. These pitiful wretches, unbalanced, living in another dead world (like all humanity) are within: but a fear paces of the Holy Place of Baha’u’llah, Healer of all ills.

There had been too much to receive in one day for so weak an instrument. The pilgrim felt a desperate need to depart t once from the Prison. There was actual pain. It was like looking directly into the high noon sun with the naked eye. It blinded, it hurt, it could not be accepted, even though the one who gazed knew that this was the source of all life. One could hear nothing that was said for some time. The senses were numb from this spiritual anaesthesia. One was physically sick inside, a fragile glass into which had been poured, and was still being poured, the Most Great Ocean. We knew that this Faith we had embraced could never be understood or contained by this feeble frame called man. We Grossed the moat and walked out into the open air. Leroy loas put a comforting arm around my shoulder. He said Now you know why we came here last.”

The clouds were gone . The sun war out ruling the blue sky all by itself. Haw happy a thing. The sea, a deeper-blue, was still charging up to the old seawall a d plunging against its rooks.

As we entered the station wagon to return to Bahji, there was a queer, mingled feeling in possession of me. It was half of joy and half of sadness, gladness and heavy-heartedness, happiness and sorrow. Perhaps it was the accumulation of the day’s emotions, unsettled and unabsorbed within me. Each experience taking charge of my being at alternate, intervals, just as the sea sent alternate breakers against the wall.

I did not look back. It was all locked forever in my heart. Oh, these sweet-scented shores. Will I ever return?

William Sears

Notes Part Three scan

Scanned by Keith Bookwalter, 2020