Loading…
"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
Loading…
"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
44 stories on this theme.
On September 13, 1911, in His first weeks in London, 'Abdu'l-Bahá addressed a small gathering at the home of Mrs. Thornburgh-Cropper. He spoke of the meeting itself as a mirror reflecting the Concourse on High — a quiet declaration that what mattered there was not earthly but heavenly.
As the Master travelled in the West, He compared the East and the West and was delighted with the contrasts. In the Hotel Rittenhouse in Philadelphia about fifty people were crowded into a small room for a meeting with the Master. For…
On November 28, 1921, 'Abdu'l-Bahá ascended at His home in Haifa. The next day, before a procession of ten thousand mourners — Muslims, Christians, Jews, Druze — He was carried up the slopes of Mount Carmel to the Shrine of the Báb, where nine speakers from three faiths delivered His funeral orations.
After His ascension, Bahá'u'lláh appointed 'Abdu'l-Bahá as the Centre of His Covenant. When friends in the East asked if a day might be observed in the Master's honor, He refused — His birthday already belonged to the Declaration of the Báb — and gave them, instead, the day of His own appointment as Centre of the Covenant. Here is a tablet from that period in which He calls the friends to be firm in that Covenant.
In 1912, on the Feast of Naw-Rúz in Alexandria, Egypt, 'Abdu'l-Bahá explained the meaning of the blessed days appointed in every dispensation — days for rejoicing together, for unity, and for leaving "tangible philanthropic or ideal traces" reaching all mankind.
I was asked to say a few words to the dear South African believers who are here today. I thought I could tell you about a tablet, a very short tablet, revealed by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. The contents of this Tablet are as follows: the Master says…
When 'Abdu'l-Bahá passed away in Haifa, ten thousand people of every kind walked together up Mount Carmel to say goodbye to the friend they all loved.
When friends wanted a special day to honor 'Abdu'l-Bahá, He gave His own birthday away and chose, instead, the day He promised to keep everyone together.
On the first day of spring in a city by the sea, 'Abdu'l-Bahá told His friends that the best way to celebrate a special day is to do something kind that helps the whole world.
One believer carried a plain little stone all the way to a cold, muddy field — and 'Abdu'l-Bahá chose her stone to begin a great House of Worship.
When two visitors from Japan came to see 'Abdu'l-Bahá in San Francisco, He was filled with joy — because two people from opposite ends of the earth had met as friends.
On a windy field by a great lake, 'Abdu'l-Bahá knelt down and dug into the earth with His own hands — beginning a beautiful temple that still stands today.
Mahmúd's Diary records that on May 1, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá travelled from Chicago to the small lakeside village of Wilmette to dedicate the cornerstone of the future House of Worship of the Western world. He laid the stone with His own hand and invited each delegate of the gathering to place upon it a stone of his own.
When two Japanese believers came to call on Him in San Francisco, 'Abdu'l-Bahá called the meeting historic. That an Iranian and a Japanese should sit together in love, He said, was itself a sign of a new power loose in the world. A retelling from Mahmúd's Diary.
On a May morning in 1912, on a windswept plot of land north of Chicago, 'Abdu'l-Bahá knelt and turned the first earth for the Mother Temple of the West with His own hands. A retelling from Mahmúd's Diary.
In an early classic of Bahá'í literature, the Scottish physician J. E. Esslemont set down for the West the account of 'Abdu'l-Bahá's passing — how peacefully He went, how every community of the land walked behind His coffin, and how that gathering of Jew, Christian, and Muslim was itself a living proof that His lifelong labour for unity had not been in vain.
Days before His passing, the believers of Springfield cabled 'Abdu'l-Bahá for His blessing on a second convention for unity between the races. His reply — "Approved; God confirms" — is believed to be His last word sanctioning a public service of the American Bahá'ís. The grief-stricken friends carried it out in His memory, and the Star of the West preserved it.
When 'Abdu'l-Bahá passed in Haifa in 1921, some ten thousand people — Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Druze; the High Commissioner and the poor of the lanes alike — climbed the slopes of Mount Carmel behind His coffin, and nine speakers of three faiths rose in turn to mourn Him. The majesty of that day was not borrowed from any office He held, for He held none; it was the grandeur a life of pure love had quietly built.
In 1912 'Abdu'l-Bahá laid with His own hand the foundation stone of the first Bahá'í House of Worship of the Western world, on the shore of Lake Michigan at Wilmette. Over the next forty years a community of working people — giving in dimes and dollars, across two world wars and a great depression — raised above that stone a temple of lacelike grandeur, a gift that most of its builders gave knowing they would never see it finished.
In the closing years of His life, from the neighbourhood of 'Akká, Bahá'u'lláh revealed the Tablet of Ishráqát — the "Splendours" — setting forth, like rays breaking from a single rising Sun, the principles by which a divided world might be remade. Bahá'ís keep the very first month of their year, and its Feast, under the name this Tablet exalts: Bahá, the Splendour.
Within two years of one another, two Manifestations of God were born — the Báb in Shíráz and Bahá'u'lláh in Ṭihrán. On the lunar calendar Their birthdays fall on consecutive days, and Bahá'ís keep them together as a single radiant feast: the Twin Holy Birthdays, two dawns of one and the same Light.
The friends longed to keep 'Abdu'l-Bahá's birthday as a festival of His own. He refused — that day, the twenty-third of May, belonged wholly to the Declaration of the Báb — and turned their devotion instead toward the Covenant, giving them the fourth of Qawl as the day of His appointment as its Centre. Years later, Star of the West would carry word of a Convention of the Covenant in which that same redirection of love bore extraordinary fruit.
During His 1912 journey across America, 'Abdu'l-Bahá gathered the friends in New York to speak to them of the Covenant of Bahá'u'lláh, and gave that city a name it has carried ever since — the City of the Covenant. The talks of that journey, collected in The Promulgation of Universal Peace, show the Centre of the Covenant pointing the new Western believers toward firmness, unity, and the great work of teaching the Cause to all the world.
During a pilgrimage to 'Akká in 1905, a visitor wrote down 'Abdu'l-Bahá's own words about the Covenant of God — that it is a Lifeboat and an Ark of Salvation, that the believers are as fishes in its sea, and that Bahá'u'lláh wrote His Testament with His own Pen so that none who obeyed it could ever go astray.
At the close of His first visit to the West, 'Abdu'l-Bahá gave a farewell address at a London settlement house built to serve the working poor and disabled children. To a hall of some four hundred and sixty people of every background, He likened the whole of humanity to a single tree — the nations its branches, the peoples its leaves and buds and fruits — and declared the whole earth one home, bathed in the oneness of God's mercy.
When pilgrims from the West reached 'Abdu'l-Bahá in the prison-city of 'Akká, they found themselves seated at His table beside believers of other nations, races, and stations — and were told plainly why. At this table, the Master said, we are joined in spiritual relationship; we are all of one family. It was the oneness of humankind, made visible over a shared meal.
On a green hillside above a river in Maine, Sarah Farmer founded a summer gathering where people of every religion and philosophy could meet, listen to one another, and seek the truth in peace. When she made her pilgrimage to 'Akká and recognised in the Bahá'í teachings the very unity she had been reaching for, she gave Green Acre into the keeping of the Cause — and it became one of the first enduring Bahá'í centres of learning in the West.
Scattered across an enormous continent, the early American believers could not build a House of Worship one city at a time. So in 1909 the delegates of their far-flung communities met in Chicago and brought into being Bahá'í Temple Unity — the first national institution of the Western Faith, the instrument through which a whole people could act as one to raise the first Mashriqu'l-Adhkár of the West.
Long before he had ever heard of the Bahá'í Faith, the French-Canadian architect Louis Bourgeois believed his life's work was to build a universal temple of Truth for all humanity. When he found the Cause, he found his commission — and poured the rest of his life into the luminous nine-sided House of Worship at Wilmette, a building whose ornament gathers the symbols of all the world's religions into one.
On a Sunday evening in September 1911, after forty years of imprisonment and exile, 'Abdu'l-Bahá rose in the pulpit of the City Temple in London and gave the first public address of His life in the Western world — a few quiet sentences, proclaimed before a crowded congregation, that opened the teaching of the Cause in the West.
One day as I was standing near the border of a little stream on Mt. Carmel, I noticed a number of locusts that had not yet developed full wings. These insects wishing to pass from my side of the stream to the other in order to procure…
On the second of June, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá entered the Church of the Ascension at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street in Manhattan, and addressed an Episcopal congregation on the *Collective Center* — the Manifestation of God around whom every people, of every race and belief, can become a single melody.
On the evening of November 8, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá addressed the congregation of the Eighth Street Temple in Washington — and reframed the long history of Jewish-Christian misunderstanding by arguing that it was through Christ that the Torah travelled into six hundred languages.
At the Town Hall in Fanwood, New Jersey on May 31, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá named the chaos of the modern world as a chaos produced by religion itself — by the partisanship of sects clinging to inheritance rather than searching for truth. The true Manifestations, He said, are shepherds; their work is to gather, never to scatter.
On December 5, 1912, on the deck of the steamship Celtic in New York harbor, 'Abdu'l-Bahá gave His final talk before sailing for Europe. After nine months in the West, He left the believers with the standard against which their whole tour was to be measured: the earth is one native land, and all mankind one family.
On May 1, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá addressed a public gathering at Handel Hall on East Randolph Street in Chicago — one of His earliest Chicago talks. The Master spoke of the necessity of an international consciousness as the antidote to the prejudices of nation, of class, and of race that had been the burden of human history.
At the home of Dr. and Mrs. Florian Krug on Park Avenue in New York on July 15, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá distinguished between thanks given by the tongue and thanks given by the conduct of a life — and asked the friends to send Him away from New York with the sight of unity among them.
On October 12, 1912, the Reform Jewish congregation of Temple Emmanu-El in San Francisco received an unprecedented visitor: 'Abdu'l-Bahá, who had come to speak of Bahá'u'lláh and of Christ from a synagogue pulpit. His subject was the common purpose of every revealed religion: the bond of love among human beings.
At the Hotel Plaza in Chicago on May 2, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá explained the difference between Bahá'í consultation and parliamentary debate — drawing on the example of the early disciples of Christ to show what spiritual conference looks like.
At the Parsons home in Washington, D.C., on April 22, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá recounted a Persian historical episode of a Zoroastrian high priest whose prejudice melted when he saw the spiritual authority of the very Arabs his nation had despised — drawing the parallel to His own day.
In April 1914 the Star of the West reprinted, from M. Holbach's article in the Christian Commonwealth, a striking observation about the pilgrims at Haifa: young Hindus of high caste were lodging in the same house, eating at the same table, with Zoroastrians, Jews, and Muslim pilgrims — *crossing the rubicon* of caste in a way no other movement in the East had achieved.
An early collective Tablet of 'Abdu'l-Bahá to the Washington, D.C. community of believers — exhorting them to unity among themselves as the foundation of their effective teaching work in the capital city.
The Master spoke to him in Persian with an interpreter. After saying that 'The Cause of God is like a tree -- its fruit is love', He asked how the believers were. Happy that they were becoming more united He replied, 'This news is the…
What most impressed 'Roy' was the spirit of sacrifice which he found among the Bahá’ís in the 'Most Great Prison'. He noted that, 'Nowhere have I witnessed such love, such perfect harmony. The desire of those in that prison was to serve…