The Intellect and the Heart

In 1911 in a little Boston suburb called Medford, a woman from London came to speak about the martyrs in the early days of the Bahá’í Faith. William Randall was one of the guests invited to the home of Marian Williams Conant. Mr Randall had never as much as heard of the Bahá’í Faith, yet he went with moderate interest. When the evening was over and he was shaking hands with the speaker, who had shown pictures of early martyrs, she looked at him and said, ‘Mr Randall, you are the only person in this room who has caught the spirit of this evening. I am going to send someone to you to tell you of the Bahá’í Faith.’

Mr Randall was startled but thanked her and departed. A few weeks passed. One morning he looked up from his desk and saw Harlan Ober standing before him. He was immediately impressed with Harlan’s eyes and with his sincerity. Having seated himself, Harlan began to tell him about the Bahá’í Faith.

Mr Randall had long had a lively interest in religion. Born a Catholic, he had become an Episcopalian, but he had gone into Theosophy, Christian Science and New Thought movements; he had studied ancient religions. He felt he knew all there was to know about religion. He had no real interest in studying a new faith now, but Mr Ober was persistent. As the months passed, Harlan Ober repeatedly dropped in on William Randall, urging him to study, telling him more about this new Faith.

When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá came to Boston in 1912, Harlan said to his reluctant student, ‘You must go and see Him …’ Mr Randall was disinclined, but finally consented to hear the Master lecture in Boston. Listening to Him, he thought that this Man was certainly a very great Man, truly a Saint.

At the close of the lecture, as Mr Randall was leaving the hall, he heard one of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s secretaries ask, ‘Is there anyone here who would be gracious enough to buy ‘Abdu’l-Bahá some grape juice? He is very fond of it and would like some after His lecture.’ Instinctively, Mr Randall replied, ‘I would be very glad to get it.’ At the corner drug store he bought six bottles of grape juice and took them to the hotel where the Master was staying. He could give them to someone who could take them to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, as he did not want to become involved. When he got off the elevator, he was drawn swiftly into conversation with friends who were standing near. Hardly realizing what he was doing, he handed his bottles to one of the Master’s secretaries.

The next thing he knew the secretary returned with a glass of grape juice on a tray and said to Mr Randall, ‘Since you have been so kind to bring this to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, won’t you take it in yourself, Mr Randall?’ Not liking the idea — yet not wishing to be ungracious — he consented, but planned to put it on the nearest table and make a speedy exit. He put aside the little curtain before the Master’s door, saw just the right table and deposited his tray. Just as he was backing out, pleased that he had not disturbed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, who was all alone at the far side of the room, seemingly asleep, the Master opened His eyes and looking at him, said, ‘Be seated.’ Feeling that he could not well refuse, Mr Randall seated himself on a couch in the centre of the room. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá settled again into His chair and closed His eyes. William Randall sat still for a few moments and then began to get angry, thinking the Master did not know in whose presence He was sitting. He became more and more angry. He wondered, ‘What does it mean that I have to sit in the presence of this old Man while He falls asleep?’

He thought about getting up and leaving the room, but decided against this approach to his predicament. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had told him to sit there and he must not be rude. Then his legs began to go to sleep and grow numb. His whole body began to get numb. Even his collar, starched and stiff — he prided himself that it was never wilted in public — drooped down. At the peak of his rage, a voice inside him said, ‘You have studied all the great religions of the world and what good have they done you, for you cannot sit in the presence of an old man for twenty minutes with peace and composure?’

As the challenge of this thought struck Mr Randall, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá opened His eyes and said, ‘The intellect is good but until it has become the servant of the heart, it is of little avail.’ Then the Master smiled at Mr Randall and dismissed him. He had not been asleep. Mr Randall never forgot the Master’s words — they were a turning point in his life.

Source: Annamarie Honnold, Vignettes from the Life of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, pp. 135–138.

Collected from bahaistories.com (Subject: teaching).

Various. *bahaistories.com archive*. https://bahaistories.com/subject/teaching