Light on Light

Note: for those members of the Badi' list who care to read and collect these essays, I hit the wrong button yesterday and the submission was bestrewn with line feeds. I will not fill your mailbox with a revised version, but if you want the pretty, readable version, I have uploaded one to the Badi Blog. Just replace your copy with the version found there.

 

Light Upon Light; beginning and ending the Mission of Abdu'l-Baha

 

By John Taylor; 2007 June 28

 

The Mission of the Master began with the Ascension of Baha'u'llah, on November 12, 1892.

A few months later there took place in Chicago a gala, six-month-long celebration of the fifth centenary of Columbus's discovery of America in 1492. This was known as the World's Columbian Exposition, or the Chicago World's Fair. Here is what Wiki has to say about it:

"The Exposition covered more than 600 acres, featuring nearly 200 new buildings of European architecture, canals and lagoons, and people and cultures from around the world. Over 27 million people (about half the U.S. population) attended the Exposition over the six months it was open. Its scale and grandeur far exceeded the other world fairs of the time, and became a symbol of then-emerging American Exceptionalism, much in the same way that the Great Exhibition became a symbol of the Victorian era United Kingdom."

Every Baha'i can tell you the most important thing that happened there from our point of view. As Shoghi Effendi's God Passes By tells us, attendees in Chicago witnessed an adjunct conference, the "World Parliament of Religions," where the Baha'i Faith was mentioned in public for the first time.

Well, not exactly the first time, E.G. Browne had been giving detailed lectures on this movement in semi-public meetings in London and Oxford for some years by then; but Browne was at heart a Babi and continued to the end of his days calling it "Babism." Still, it is fair to say that Chicago saw the first public mention of Baha'u'llah and the Baha'i Faith qua religion among other religions, not as an obscure Persian millennial movement noted in some fusty Oxford professor's doctoral thesis. Several other important religious traditions, notably Paganism, Wicca and "Native Spirituality," were not mentioned at this parliament, and had to wait a century for the second parliament of religions in 1992 to gain the honor of recognition as legitimate religious phenomena.

But another notable first also took place at this World's Fair. This was the dramatic and spectacular unveiling of the world's first outdoor lighting system. The electric illumination display awed fair attendees; never in history had a public space been lit up at night with such brilliance and dependability. This marked the victory of Nicolai Tesla and his alternating current system over his rival and former employer, Thomas Edison, who had vociferously advocated direct current, which is not as efficient over the long distances that true electrification requires. This event marked the beginning of outdoor electric lights on every street, as well as the transmission by wires lifted up on poles of electricity to every home. Alternating current networks spread very quickly to every advanced city in the world. I have a photograph of a crowd on Young Street in Toronto taken ten years later, around 1900, and already the ugly but now ubiquitous power lines running down the side of the road are clearly visible.

From our point of view, what does this mean? Why do I mention a lighting display when I am supposed to be talking about Abdu'l-Baha?

The point is this: the Mission of Abdu'l-Baha began and ended with light. The Columbian Exposition mentioned Baha'u'llah first, and saw the first outdoor light. And so it was with the end of the Master's mission. I have gone to the trouble of scanning and correcting the relevant chapters of the biography of Curtis Kelsey because he was given the all important job, just before the Passing of the Master, of installing an AC lighting system on the path leading up to the Shrine of the Bab on Mount Carmel, as well as at the Haram-i-Aqdas in Bahji.

This dream of the Master was physically challenging to install. Electrification had not yet reached the backwaters of Haifa and Akka. You had to put in a gas generator every place you put in lamps. But it was not _that_ challenging. He had ample opportunity to have the lights installed by qualified experts years before. Instead, some sort of spiritual, unseen conjuncture had to be crossed. Curtis Kelsey, a practical guy, a born handyman but not an electrical engineer, was called upon, in the last months of the Master's days on earth, to do this job. I encourage you to read the entire book, "He Loved and Served," by Nathan Rutstein, because only that gives you a feel for who this was, for the man in the Plan.

As a North American man myself, I think that the choice of Curtis Kelsey was a special gift of the Master to us in particular. Like all divine gifts, the gift comes first not to the keener at the head of the class, but to the dunce, the one most desperately in need of the gift. Men in general are slower in spiritual perception than women, and here in North America, the festering center of materialism, we are easily the most benighted of all men in the world. What a glorious bounty that one of us should have been chosen to do the work to light up the Holy Shrines for the first time! Reading Kelsey's biography was an almost primal experience for me. Kelsey had a long journey to go to be prepared for this task, and I am not talking about poring over books of electrical theory. I am talking about spiritual preparation. I am talking about poring over the holy Word, learning to pray, becoming worthy of the unique bounty of being among the last to see Abdu'l-Baha in the flesh. This is the story of how far we have to go, we North American men, of the long, long travail we need to suffer to get to see what a woman -- one like Kelsey's longsuffering mother -- can perceive instantly, without ever setting eyes on the Holy Ones.

So, the account here of Curtis Kelsey's working pilgrimage, crucial as it is for grasping the Mission of Abdu'l-Baha, was not the whole story by any means. It is a skeleton without flesh. The whole story of Curtis Kelsey takes in what he became, what the experience made of an ordinary guy, the sort who today is obsessed with beer, football and Nascar, and how far such a fellow can go with proper spiritual nurture.

By the way, if you want to hear with your own ears the results of Kelsey’s transformation, go to:

http://www.bahaistudy.org/audio-talks.html

Here you can listen to a remarkably high quality sound recording of a pair of talks Curtis Kelsey gave, probably long after he had become an Auxiliary Board Member, called “Stories of 'Abdu'l-Bahá.” There is also a talk there by Bill Sears, and one by Nate Rutstein, the biographer himself, called: “Shoghi Effendi -- Master Builder of World Civilization.”

This fateful pilgrimage of Curtis Kelsey came at a charged moment in the Master's life. It lasted from just before to about six months after He ascended to the Abha Kingdom. The Master was better prepared for the event than anybody around Him. Some years before these events, the Master was reported as saying these words,

"Then Abdu'l-Baha walked in his room and looking from the window, said, "During the days of youth, man sees the pictures of life in all things where ever he looks, but, as his age advances, he sees the picture of death in every thing and that all things have an end. When he looks at the trees he sees that in the end they will dry up. When he looks at the buildings, he sees that finally they too, will be destroyed. If he sees a thickly populated place, he remembers that a time will come when it will be devastated. Briefly, all things inform man of an end." (SW, Vol. 9, p. 118)

This was not a sad time for the Master, but at least one other sensitive soul, an old man, an Afnan, could not bear what he sensed was about to happen. Well, why tell the story myself? I will let that incomparable popular writer, Nathan Rutstein, tell it.

 

Chapter 5

 

It was the dream of the Master to have the Shrine of the Bab bathed in light and at the same time to look across the Bay of Haifa and see the Shrine of Baha'u'llah illumined. In order to be able to do this, He told Curtis, 'You are to spend two weeks working in Bahji, then return to Haifa to work on the Shrine of the Bab for two weeks - and you are to follow this pattern until you have completed your work.'

After Curtis acknowledged the procedure, 'Abdu'l-Baha introduced him to a young Persian who had come from India. He was Husayn-i-Kahrubayi, the electrician who had appeared in Haifa a year earlier, volunteering to install the three lighting plants, but was sent home and was asked to wait until the Master called him. 'Abdu'l-Baha told Curtis that Husayn was going to help him, and assured him that they would learn to work well together even though they could not understand each other's language.

Of course working with someone you couldn't understand would be considered unorthodox back home, and in some quarters downright foolish. In putting together a work crew, Curtis was always taught, you make sure you select people who will work well together, people who will complement each other and be able to communicate easily. A good combination of people will assure effective, fast results. But in Haifa, Curtis had to scrap some of his management training, because he wasn't working for an executive in the Woolworth Building.

'Abdu’l-Baha had special ways. And Curtis knew that. In time, he felt, the wisdom of his working with Husayn would become clear.

So both men tried valiantly to overcome their differences, concentrating on ways to communicate. First they discovered they had a limited vocabulary of each other's language. For example, Curtis knew words like balih ('yes'), insha'llah ('if God will') and marhaba ('Well done!' or 'Welcome!'); and Husayn knew a few terms like 'okay,' 'all right' and 'good.' With a combination of the words they knew, a series of facial expressions and hand gestures, they were able to devise a system by which to work efficiently together. Before starting the actual work, they laid all of their tools out on a large table. When Curtis held up a tool, he would call out its English name and Husayn would give the Persian name.

They employed the same method with the lighting plant parts. It didn't take long before they at least had a basic knowledge of the working nomenclature. Certainly this arrangement would never have been tolerated by Curtis' father. But it worked, despite the strange grunting, peppered with words like 'balih' and 'okay' and exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures. An objective Western observer watching the way the American and Persian were working together would probably have thought he was witnessing a rehearsal of some theatrical comedy production. But all went well. From this experience, Curtis realized that people of different cultures, who don't speak the same language, can learn to understand each other, even learn to like each other. What's necessary is a willingness to try, to view the other person as your equal, have a positive attitude, and faith that it will work out. Of course, Curtis never forgot that it was ‘Abdu’l-Baha who made it possible for him to gain insight into how humanity can be united.

For the next ten days Curtis spent time exploring the area around the Shrine of the Bab for a site to install the lighting plant and sketched out how he was going to wire the Holy Tomb. Time was also spent purchasing pipe and other supplies in town. On Sundays 'Abdu'l-Baha would gather with the friends at the Shrine of the Bab. Curtis always liked being there, not only because the Master would speak on some aspect of the Faith, but also because he especially looked forward to 'Abdu'l-Baha holding his hand and placing rose water in his palm. It was something He did to all of the believers before they entered the Shrine.

On the Sunday he was to go to Bahji to start the actual physical work, Curtis and Lutfu'llah were in town purchasing materials. Curtis wasn't going to miss being with the Master, not since he was going to be away from Him for two weeks. Every moment with Him was a feast for his soul. So Curtis made sure they got back in time for the meeting. About fifty believers were there. What impressed Curtis most that sunny afternoon was the walk down the mountain, with the Master in the lead. It was a heavenly processional. He could have followed the Master into the sea, if that was where He wished to go. Strange, but it was only ‘Abdu’l-Baha and the Faith that could command such obedience of a young man who had continually battled with authority throughout his life.

Suddenly, ‘Abdu’l-Baha turned around and said He had some business to attend to and proceeded down the steep rocky side of the mountain, moving quickly. No one knew exactly where He was going; but He had done the same thing before whenever He felt someone in town was in terrible need.

October 28 marked a month that Curtis had been at the World Center. As usual, he got up at five, washed and went to the shop to fix a gas torch. He had been there only a few minutes when ‘Abdu’l-Baha appeared, saying 'Good morning my son, good morning my son. How are you?'

What a way to be greeted in the morning, Curtis thought -- the Center of the Covenant looking at you so lovingly. No one else ever looked at him that way, not even his mother. It was an outpouring that penetrated every fiber of his being.

Curtis asked if he, Husayn and Lutfu'llah could go to Bahji that day to begin the actual work.

'Very good,' responded the Master.

Since the train to 'Akka didn't leave until late in the afternoon, Curtis remained in the garage putting things in order and packing. ‘Abdu’l-Baha's room was close to the garage, and while Curtis worked, he could hear the Master dictating a very long tablet.

The thought of starting to install the lighting plants thrilled Curtis, but the fact that he would be in Bahji, away from the Master for two weeks, concerned him. How frustrating -- knowing that ‘Abdu’l-Baha was about fifteen miles away in Haifa and being unable to be with Him, watch Him, listen to Him. But Curtis' fear never came to pass. He went to Bahji all right, but somehow -- maybe through a subconscious drive of his -- he found a reason to return to Haifa from time to time, to pick up materials he needed for his work. Every time he came back, he would see or speak to the Master. Not for long, just for a few seconds. But that was enough for Curtis. One time, however, he met 'Abdu'l-Baha in front of His home, and asked Him something he had wanted to ask for weeks but couldn't find the courage to: Curtis asked if he could take the Ford to Bahji, so that if he had to return to Haifa to pick up supplies he wouldn't have to rely on the shaky railroad schedule.

Curtis was granted his wish, but he didn't abuse it. He returned to Haifa only about four or five times. Meanwhile, much was accomplished at Bahji. It was a spartan life - up at five, prayers, a couple of hours of work, breakfast, more work, lunch, a nap, more work, supper and more work; and at times reflection near the Tomb of Baha'u'llah.

Washing one's body was done before supper, close to sunset. Right after work Lutfu'llah and Curtis would rush to the old stone viaduct, wash their clothes in the cold, clear water, then take a bath Bahji-style: Curtis would strip nude and stand on a boulder and Lurfu'llah would cast buckets of cold water on him; then Curtis would wash Lurfu'llah down.

Curtis, Lutfu'llah and Husayn lived in the cottage where the Master stayed when He visited Bahji. And they ate well. The Master made sure of that. He was especially conscious of Curtis' food needs, because they were different from Husayn's. He made certain that Curtis received enough protein, something he sensed most Americans craved. Spending nine months in the United States and Canada, the Master gained a deep understanding of American customs and tastes. Normally, people in the Middle East do not eat eggs in the morning; but the Master made sure the young American had them for breakfast. In a note to the caretaker at Bahji, 'Abdu'l-Baha urged him to feed Curtis well:

 

He is God!

To Aqa Siyyid Abu'l-Qasim:

 

A dear guest is coming to you; he is the person who is going to arrange the lighting of the Holy Shrines with Mr Kahraba'i. He must have plentiful food for lunch and dinner, and even breakfast. Therefore a quantity of jam, cheese and olives will be sent and Mr Lutfu'lIah, who knows a little about cooking, will accompany him. You must all do what you can to ensure that at lunch and dinner there will be at least one type of dish that is to his liking. Either kill a chicken or bring meat from 'Akka. There must always be some kind of meat. And in the morning, serve milk, eggs, jam and olives. It will be some trouble for you but this service is the duty of 'Abdu'l-Baha. I should be doing this but have no opportunity and so you must make the effort. Upon thee be the Glory of Glories.

‘Abdu’l-Baha 'Abbas

 

After two weeks, Curtis was back in Haifa, close to the Master again. For some reason the Master never came up to inspect the work that Husayn and he had done in Bahji. To demonstrate such trust amazed Curtis. Every boss he had ever worked for was usually hanging over his shoulder. But the World Center was a different place, operating on different principles. 'Abdu'l-Baha's concern was not that the work wasn't going to be done well, but that Curtis and Husayn had all of the supplies they needed. Curtis sensed that the Master had already envisioned the project completed; that all that was necessary was the implementation of the plan, which was mechanical. What He saw in the world of the spirit, where He dwelt, were the two Shrines aglow in the evening. He had assembled all of the necessary ingredients to make tangible what He already saw. With God's help, it would all materialize.

One of the blessings of being in Haifa was having lunch with the Master every day. 'Abdu'l-Baha insisted that Curtis eat with Him. One day Curtis was late coming to lunch, because he had to wash and change clothes. He wouldn't ever sit down at the luncheon table with the Master in his overalls. 'Abdu'l-Baha had other ideas about that. He told Curtis that there was no need for him to change his work clothes.

Eating lunch with 'Abdu'l-Baha generated feelings that, on the surface, wouldn't be considered compatible. For example, Curtis sensed the Master's majesty; but he felt completely at ease with Him, while normally, most people who find themselves close to nobility are restrained, extremely self-conscious, or ill at ease. After the meal, 'Abdu'l-Baha would remain at the table, at times talking about the struggles and sacrifices of the early believers. Other times he would sit quietly reading mail or papers, often pushing His turban back on his head, completely absorbed in what He was doing. Curtis enjoyed just sitting and watching, observing all this. The simple experience evoked a sense of peace in Curtis, for which he had no explanation.

Often only Curtis and Fujita would be together at the table; and they had their favorite games. One involved the Master's brown cat. Fujita, who took care of the cat for 'Abdu'l-Baha, would always lock the cat in the kitchen during lunch. He did that just to hear the Master say, 'Let the cat out,' which, of course, Fujita would do. As soon as the kitchen door was opened, the cat would dart to the feet of 'Abdu'l-Baha, who would stroke her and feed her. After gobbling the food, the cat would brush against the Master's feet and purr loudly. Everyone knew it was a joke, but it was fun for all. It was amazing to Curtis that the 'Mystery of God' would derive such pleasure from such simple things. On the one hand He was so human, in the best sense of the term, and yet Curtis knew from personal experience that 'Abdu'l-Baha possessed powers no one else had. What made the Master so appealing was His naturalness, His openness, His genuine concern for you.

'Abdu'l-Baha had mothering qualities, which He openly displayed, and they were usually demonstrated to Curtis at lunch. When Curtis took a helping of whatever was on the table, 'Abdu'l-Baha would invariably say, 'Take more. You are a young man, so you should eat much.' It was something he would expect from his mother, but not his father.

One afternoon after the cat had been patted and fed by the Master, Curtis asked what the difference was between the life of a cat and a human being. 'Abdu'l-Baha's response was difficult to comprehend. He gave a discourse on the ingestion and digestion of what we eat, being extremely detailed in explaining the various processes involved, and pointing out that what is of value nourishes the body and what is not is eliminated as waste. Then He arose, walking across the floor. As His foot struck a loose tile, He stopped, looked at it and exclaimed: 'It is progressing, and it is possible for it to reach the state of a mirror.’ Years later, after deepening in the Teachings, Curtis gained some insight into the Master's explanation when he read in the Writings: 'We have placed mankind in the alembic, and after due refining processes, the believers are the fragrant extracts thereof.' (He Loved and Served, The Story of Curtis Kelsey, by Nathan Rutstein, George Ronald, Oxford, pp. 67-74)