A Heart White as Snow: Robert Turner

A retelling based on the account preserved by Shoghi Effendi in God Passes By and in the reminiscences of May Maxwell, an early Western pilgrim. Short phrases in quotation marks are words preserved in those histories.

At the close of the nineteenth century, in the United States of America, a man born into the legacy of slavery could expect to be measured by one thing before all others — the colour of his skin. Doors were shut to him. Tables were not set for him. The dignity that should belong to every human being by right of being human was, for such a man, rationed out in the smallest of portions, if at all. It is against that hard background that the life of Robert Turner shines with a particular light.

Robert Turner was an African American, and by his employment a butler — a servant in the household of Mrs. Phoebe Hearst, a wealthy and prominent woman of California. He was, in the eyes of the society of his day, a man of low station: a Black man, and a servant. But he had within him a seeking, reverent soul. When his mistress and her circle first heard of the new Revelation of Bahá'u'lláh, Robert Turner heard of it too — and he believed. By that act he became, as the histories record, the first of his race in the Western world to enter the Bahá'í Faith.

In the year 1898 Mrs. Hearst gathered a small party to undertake the long journey across the world to the prison-city of 'Akká, in the Holy Land, to attain the presence of 'Abdu'l-Bahá — the eldest Son of Bahá'u'lláh, then still a prisoner of the Ottoman state. It was the first group of Western pilgrims ever to make that journey. And in that company, travelling with the wealthy and the distinguished, was their butler, Robert Turner.

May Maxwell, who was of that pilgrim band, preserved what happened on the morning of their arrival. After they had rested and refreshed themselves, the Master summoned them all to Him in a long room overlooking the Mediterranean. He sat for a time in silence, gazing out at the sea. Then, looking up, He asked whether all were present. Glancing over the gathered believers, He saw that one was missing, and He asked, "Where is Robert?"

It was a small question, but it carried a whole revolution within it. In the ordinary order of that world, a butler would not have been counted among the guests at all; his absence would have gone unremarked, or been thought only proper. The Master would not begin without him. In a moment Robert's radiant face appeared in the doorway — and 'Abdu'l-Bahá rose to His feet to greet him, bade him be seated, and said to him: "Robert, your Lord loves you. God gave you a black skin, but a heart white as snow."

Consider the honour of that scene. The Son of the Manifestation of God, in the presence of the rich and the learned of the West, stood up for a Black American servant, called him by name, seated him as an honoured guest, and declared before all of them that this man was beloved of his Lord. The world had given Robert Turner a place near the bottom; the Master placed him among the cherished.

The story does not end with that morning. In the years that followed, a heavy trial came upon Robert Turner's faith. Mrs. Hearst, the mistress who had first brought him into the orbit of the Cause, in time drifted from it and let her own allegiance lapse. It would have been the easiest and most natural thing in the world for the servant to follow the lady — to let go of what she had let go of. He did not. So firm had his faith become, so deeply had the loving-kindness 'Abdu'l-Bahá had shown him taken root in his heart, that nothing — not even the falling-away of the one who had opened the door — could dim its radiance. He remained steadfast. He is honoured among the early believers of the West, and is remembered as one whom 'Abdu'l-Bahá Himself afterward numbered among the disciples of a new and luminous age.

The Feast of Sharaf is the Feast of Honour. It asks us to remember that honour, in the sight of God, has nothing to do with rank, or wealth, or the colour of a person's skin, and everything to do with the condition of the heart. The world saw a butler. 'Abdu'l-Bahá saw a soul white as snow, and rose to greet him.

This is a retelling. For the fuller account, see God Passes By by Shoghi Effendi and the recollections of the early Western pilgrims to 'Akká.

Effendi, S.. (1944). *God Passes By*. Bahá'í Publishing Trust. https://www.bahai.org/library/authoritative-texts/shoghi-effendi/god-passes-by/