Loading…
"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
Loading…
"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
25 stories where excellence appears.
Bahá'í Chronicles preserves the biographical record of John Ebenezer Esslemont — the Aberdeen physician who, after encountering the Cause in 1914, wrote the introductory work *Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era,* moved to Haifa to serve at the Master's side, and was named by Shoghi Effendi a Hand of the Cause after his early death in 1925.
A doctor who was often sick spent seven whole years writing one clear little book about the Faith — and it went on to travel farther than he ever could.
When it was time to build a beautiful crown over the Shrine of the Báb, Shoghi Effendi turned to a famous architect who happened to be his own father-in-law.
Night after night in a quiet house in Haifa, Shoghi Effendi sat at his desk and turned a great old book from Persian into English, so the whole world could read it.
Shoghi Effendi sat at a quiet desk and turned a beautiful little book of holy words into English, working one tiny line at a time until it was just right.
A respected jurist of Najaf-Ábád gave up rank and safety to follow Bahá'u'lláh, and devoted the rest of his life to copying out the sacred Writings in a hand so exact that his transcriptions became the standard by which others are verified to this day. Bahá'u'lláh named him Zaynu'l-Muqarrabín — the Ornament of the Near Ones.
Late in His life in the Holy Land, Bahá'u'lláh answered a question put to Him by the learned Bábí scholar Nabíl-i-Akbar about the place the philosophy of Greece and Persia should hold among the believers. The reply, the Tablet of Wisdom, surveys the great philosophers by name, traces the lineage of their light, and sets out the proper relation between human inquiry and divine Revelation — a charter for the life of the mind.
Before the world knew he would be the Guardian, Shoghi Effendi went to Oxford with one private purpose: to perfect his English so that he might serve 'Abdu'l-Bahá as His translator. In quiet rooms at Balliol, with English literature, a dictionary, and a notebook, he forged the very instrument by which the Sacred Writings would later reach the Western world — a lifetime's labour of learning poured out in service.
Hippolyte Dreyfus was a brilliant young Parisian lawyer with everything the world prizes when he encountered the Bahá'í teachings. Recognising their truth, he did something few Western believers had done: he set himself to master Persian and Arabic so that he could read the Writings in their own words and carry them to the French-speaking world. He became the first French Bahá'í and one of the Faith's earliest Western scholars and translators.
An Aberdeen physician in failing health, trained to weigh evidence and trust nothing he could not examine, found a small pamphlet about the Bahá'í Faith in a sanatorium. He did not simply believe it. He studied for years, learned Persian late in life to read the Writings in the original, and wrote the careful introduction by which the English-speaking world would come to know the Cause.
The first African-American Rhodes Scholar and a Harvard-trained philosopher, Alain Locke became the guiding intellect of the Harlem Renaissance. He was also a Bahá'í who put the whole of his learning to the service of human oneness — teaching that the deepest work of the mind is to discover the "common denominators" on which a united world can stand.
The vast ocean of Bahá'u'lláh's Revelation lay almost entirely in Persian and Arabic, beyond the reach of the growing communities of the West. Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Faith, set himself to gather from that ocean and to render its waters into a stately, faithful English — producing, in *Gleanings from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh*, a book through which the West could at last drink directly from the Word.
Quddús was the youngest and the last of the Báb's first eighteen disciples, the Letters of the Living — and the one He raised highest. A youth of luminous refinement, learning, courtesy, and serenity, Quddús was chosen as the Báb's sole companion on the pilgrimage to Mecca, poured out commentaries of astonishing depth even under arrest and siege, and bore himself through every ordeal with a perfection of character that his companions never forgot.
In a city where almost every believer had crept into hiding for fear of his life, one man came and went openly, fearless and upright. Muḥammad-Muṣṭafá Baghdádí — wise, brave, generous, and faithful to the end — became 'Abdu'l-Bahá's picture of a rounded excellence of character: a soul that was bold before tyrants, gracious to every pilgrim, and unshakeable in the Covenant, whom the Master remembered simply as "a blazing light."
Through the long years in 'Akká, 'Abdu'l-Bahá was surrounded not only by friends but by enemies — men who slandered Him, plotted against Him, and even schemed for His death. The recollections preserved in The Chosen Highway show how He answered them: with unfailing courtesy, with help sent quietly to their households, and with kindness returned for every injury — the perfection of a character that would not let another's evil change its own goodness.
Long before she was a heroine and a martyr, Ṭáhirih was simply the most gifted mind anyone in Qazvín had ever seen in a girl — a scholar, a poet, and a debater whose brilliance made her own father lament that she had not been born a son. 'Abdu'l-Bahá's tribute in Memorials of the Faithful preserves the portrait of a soul whose God-given talents were carried to a rare perfection and then poured out wholly in the path of God.
Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Bahá'í Faith, brought to everything he touched a standard of exactness and beauty that those closest to him never forgot. The Priceless Pearl preserves the portrait: a young man who taught himself English to perfection in quiet Oxford rooms, then laboured year after year by lamplight to render the Sacred Writings in cadenced, faultless prose — showing that the patient pursuit of excellence can itself be a form of worship.
Siyyid Yaḥyá-i-Dárábí was the most learned, most eloquent, and most influential divine in all Persia — a man who had committed thirty thousand traditions to memory and before whom whole assemblies fell silent. Sent by the Sháh himself to examine the Báb and expose Him, this perfected scholar found instead that true greatness of mind lies not in what one knows but in the humility to bow before the truth.
Mírzá Abu'l-Faḍl had perfected nearly every branch of human knowledge — theology, philosophy, history, the sciences — and headed a renowned college before he was thirty. When he became a Bahá'í, he did not lay his learning aside; he laid it at the feet of the Cause, becoming its peerless scholar and carrying its proofs from Cairo to Paris to Green Acre, where Harvard and Columbia professors came to listen.
In the bazaars of Iṣfáhán two brothers built one of the most prosperous trading houses in the city — yet they were renowned not for their wealth but for their character: trustworthy, honest, compassionate, and so generous that they fed the starving in famine and quietly sustained Bahá'u'lláh's exiled company. They came to be called the King and the Beloved of Martyrs, "shining embodiments of all Bahá'í ideals."
Mishkín-Qalam was the foremost calligrapher of Persia, his pen "the wonder of all calligraphers." He could have kept his comfort, his fame, and the favour of princes. Instead he crossed deserts and seas to find Bahá'u'lláh, and turned his perfected art into an act of worship — writing the Most Great Name in countless beautiful forms even from prison, until 'Abdu'l-Bahá called him "a compendium of perfections."
Ustád Báqir and Ustád Aḥmad were two carpenter-brothers from Káshán who followed Bahá'u'lláh into exile and imprisonment. In the Most Great Prison of 'Akká they kept faithfully at their craft — tranquil, dignified, and joyful — and 'Abdu'l-Bahá remembered them with a single luminous testimony: through all those long prison years they were "never neglectful of duty, never at fault."
Rúḥíyyih Khánum's *The Priceless Pearl* recounts how, in 1942, Shoghi Effendi asked his own father-in-law — the celebrated Canadian architect William Sutherland Maxwell, then resident in Haifa — to design the arcade and superstructure of the Shrine of the Báb on Mount Carmel. The colonnade of Baveno granite and the Chiampo arches were the answer.
In *The Priceless Pearl* Rúḥíyyih Khánum describes the years of patient nightly labour by which Shoghi Effendi rendered Nabíl's Persian chronicle of the Bábí period into the cadenced English that became *The Dawn-Breakers* — the volume that, more than any other, made the heroic story of the Báb's followers available to the Western world.
In *The Priceless Pearl* Rúḥíyyih Khánum describes the slow, exacting labour by which Shoghi Effendi rendered Bahá'u'lláh's *Hidden Words* into the English in which generations of Western believers have come to know them — a translation built one aphorism at a time, in the silent hours of his Haifa office.