Using our deeds as snares

In the 1990s, Baha'i artist, Sonja van Kerkhoff, created a beautiful postcard, which you can see pictured in the graphic. It draws on a quote from paragraph 36 of the Kitab-i Aqdas: "Make not your deeds as snares wherewith to entrap the object of your aspiration."

I got to thinking about this quote again when Steve and I were discussing Peter Khan's talk, "Reflections on the Ridvan 2009 message", which I discussed in my previous blog entry. Steve made the interesting comment that, if Peter's talk is anything to go by, what motivates the House is an overwhelming desire to save the world.

Peter spends a large portion of the talk outlining how bad the state of the world is and then ends with his appeal for the Baha'is to follow the House. Why? Because that is the only way, he argues, that the world can be saved. It's as if the Baha'is - and particularly the House of Justice because it leads the Baha'i community - have this crushing burden on their shoulders, given them by Baha'u'llah via his call for Baha'is to spread the Word and thereby transform humanity.

This led me to see things in a new light. There is the House of Justice, at the head of the Baha'i community, charged with this monumental task, to pull humanity back from the brink and turn people's heads in the direction of the new manifestation. I expect the House of Justice members must feel the weight of this responsibility exceedingly; heaven knows, if I was in their shoes, I would. And I sense they believe that the extent to which humanity does heed their call and convert is the measure of how successful the Baha'is have been in carrying out this divinely-appointed task. It is therefore imperative that humanity is somehow made to listen, for anything else is failure - failure to Baha'u'llah - and that is unthinkable.

This explains to me why the House of Justice has come up with measures and techniques within its Five Year Plan that, to my mind, are manipulative and unacceptable in a Baha'i context. Basically, if you're desperate, you end up taking steps that, without the pressure, you wouldn't condone. The pressure starts to affect the way you see things; for example, you justify door knocking even though the Guardian said it was undignified, and you try to micromanage and control the growth process, which enables you to count 'successes' and convince yourself that all is going well - all this instead of letting a thousand flowers bloom in the realms of the spirit.

However, the Baha'i rhetoric is that the Baha'is are out to save humanity for its own sake; after all, things are so bad, anyone with the remedy has a duty to offer it to anyone who will listen. But, in any case, humanity has a difficult path to navigate to realise its new potential and pain along the way can't be helped. Finally, success in the fullness of time is assured with the establishment of the Bahai religion worldwide. Therefore, the idea of 'failure' doesn't really apply. We just box on regardless and Baha'u'llah will do the rest.

One reason I question the sincerity of the rhetoric is that I was reared in the Baha'i community for 20 years before I was expelled from it. I am a creature of its socialisation as much as the next believer, and I have spent the past decade analysing and disinfecting myself from the assumptions that were instilled into me. One of those assumptions was that by participating with all my heart in the activities laid out for me by the administration, I would save the world.

In my twenties, when I was a solo mother, I spent all the spare time I could find in Baha'i activities, to the detriment of my daughter, I can see now, but I believed I was working for God. At one time, I was chair, secretary and treasurer of the local assembly all at once! (Not for long, I admit - it was just over summer holidays.) We had meetings, endless meetings and we did some teaching as well. I got out on the street and even knocked on doors. After about five years of this, I had a near breakdown. The phone rang about 30 times a day, with members of the community wanting information or to organise events. I found myself in the ironic position where I would pour my heart out to a neighbour, who was not a Baha'i but knew some believers, about how overworked I was and the lack of support I got. Eventually, I resigned from the assembly. I couldn't have attended another meeting if I had wanted to, I was so exhausted. I wasn't the only one; there was talk back then of believers experiencing burnout and attempts to prevent it, but these measures never got to the heart of the issue.

When I look at the activities the Baha'is are expected to participate in today, as a part of their commitment to the Five Year Plan, I can see that nothing has changed. There is no limit to what you can do, and to what you are expected to do. There is still this assumption that heaps of meetings and endless activity will somehow save the day. Even after I was expelled from the community, I kept on believing this; I would put in long hours and make commitments, thinking this was the way to go. But, freed from community pressures, I began to re-examine it.

The first flicker of a new horizon came when I realised that the more busy I was, the less I could pray and meditate. The busyness occupied my mind and soul and got in the way of good devotional concentration. I always remember a woman getting up at a Baha'i conference and saying: "If you're too busy to pray, then you're more busy than God meant you to be". I started to question my restless activity; if it got in the way of prayer, then something was out of balance. Eventually, I began to see just how much I was caught up in what I was doing, as if that was all that mattered.

I believe this is using deeds as snares. You get into thinking that your actions are the things that will result in your achieving the goal. The deed becomes the snare that will hook in the outcome. But this thinking is erroneous. Of course, our deeds towards a goal are important, but they are not primarily the way to serve God and help humanity. It's logical: God is independent of everything in creation, including our deeds. Our deeds could be all to hell, and the whole of humanity might still have salvation, if the Lord willed it. The Guardian outlined the principle for us in this famous passage, which I don't see quoted these days:

"Not by the force of numbers, not by the mere exposition of a set of new and noble principles, not by an organized campaign of teaching - no matter how worldwide and elaborate in its character - not even by the staunchness of our faith or the exaltation of our enthusiasm, can we ultimately hope to vindicate in the eyes of a critical and sceptical age the supreme claim of the Abha Revelation. One thing and only one thing will unfailingly and alone secure the undoubted triumph of this sacred Cause, namely, the extent to which our own inner life and private character mirror forth in their manifold aspects the splendor of those eternal principles proclaimed by Baha'u'llah." (Baha'i Administration, p. 66)

You see? Not by an organised campaign of teaching, no matter how worldwide and elaborate - so not by the Five Year Plan. One thing and only one thing - the extent to which our personal lives reflect the light of the principles of the revelation. What matters most is what is in our hearts. Baha'u'llah puts it succinctly in this Hidden Word:

"Sorrow not save that thou art far from Us. Rejoice not save that thou art drawing near and returning unto Us." (AHW 35)

This is what is primarily important - our personal relationship with Baha'u'llah. I think what believers don't understand is how this bond with Baha'u'llah is effective in saving the world. We focus on deeds because we think these are proof that we are actually doing something. But my understanding is that Baha'u'llah doesn't see things that way. He gave us a small tablet in which he outlines how we can best aid God. I'll discuss it in my next entry. I'll stop here for now, for this is getting long enough.