Saturday, May 02, 2009

Why Be A Seeker?

Why search?

A Meditation on the Need for the Search for Truth


By John Taylor; 2009 May 02, Jamal 05, 166 BE (originally written 1996, revised 2004 May 24, and 2009 Apr 30)


The first and most important Baha'i principle is the independent investigation of reality. 'Abdu'l-Baha said that "there is nothing of greater importance to mankind than the investigation of truth." [Promulgation, 63] To see why this is so, let us ask some hypothetical questions:


What would the world be like if everybody ignored our basic duty to search out the truth? What would happen if the old stopped teaching the young?


Of course the idea of a complete end of learning is an extreme, and very hypothetical. However, it seems obvious to me that if none of the experienced shared knowledge with the inexperienced, the result would be utter chaos. We would lose all the benefits of science and technology, of love and fellow feeling. If suddenly we stopped seeking truth, we would lose the habit and nobody would want to investigate, knowledge would lose value and we would sink into barbarism. We would lose stability, war, disease and famine would break out and the human race might well die out in less than a generation.


While I tend to think this is clear and indisputable, I do not have an easy time persuading my nine-year-old son of it. He joyfully imagines a completely different scenario where he and his friends are running free in the street, tearing textbooks to shreds and entering a blissful, unending time of joy and freedom.


Nor is Tomaso the first kid to think that way. We are re-reading "God Loves Laughter" where Bill Sears' family is threatened by a raging forest fire. While their mother frets under that dire danger, there the young Bill sits, gleefully fantasizing about how it might happen that the inferno might rush into town, burn the school to the ground and leave everything else standing. Similarly, in our kids' favourite show, the Simpsons, Bart continually imagines rockets, aliens and any number of other disasters striking his school and leaving the rest of Springfield intact.


As we discuss the principle of search in our daily study session, I try to take Thomas a step beyond his fantasy. "Try to think about the day after you and your friends are running through the street tearing up your schoolbooks. Once you have been liberated from school, what would happen after that?" He would play on his computer and video game system forever. "What about when they break down? Who would repair them? What if the electricity goes out? Who would repair that? And where would we get our food if the transport system broke down? What would you do then?" He prefers not to think about that.


My encounter with Thomas's determined reluctance to learn what he does not want to learn raised further questions in my mind: What makes the young want to learn from the old? What motivates the old to share? Why do humans want to take knowledge further and improve on old understanding?


Whatever young boys may think, the fact is that everything depends upon our desire to learn and willingness to teach. As human beings, it is in our blood to desire to seek out hidden truth. But it is also natural to be lazy, to take shortcuts and jump to conclusions. A traditional story from Eighteenth Century Japan illustrates totally dependent on seeking and learning, and how easy it is to fall short of their demands.


One day a master began instructing a servant on what to do next. He said, "I want you to go on an errand to tell so and so across town that he ... " The servant, wishing to give the impression of being prompt and obedient, cried out, "Yes sir!" and ran off without waiting a second longer. On his return his master was beside himself. "You did not wait to hear my message! What in heaven's name did you tell him, you fool?" The servant answered: "Well, fortunately he was not at home." (Blyth, Oriental Humor, 535-6) Suffice to say, if we were all like that hasty servant, if nobody investigated reality, whenever anybody wanted to send a message there would be nobody at home, ever. There would be no point in gathering information or sending messages to anybody.


It is easy to be eager but mentally lazy like this servant, to relax before the challenge of investigating reality and say, "Let's not and say we did?" Truth tends to be hidden and invisible, after all, and it is not likely than anybody scream and protest if you try to get by with a half-hearted stab at it. Usually you can parrot the first authority or impressive idea you overhear, and your listeners will respect your words just the same as if you had worked them out yourself.


Most of the time the easiest thing is to sit back and rely on the fruits of others' search. The mind is a mirror, after all, and reflections come easy to it. Both Socrates and `Abdu'l-Baha termed this "imitation." Abdu'l-Baha pointed out that imitation is an inebriating wine that will lead us into slavery,


"For the imitator saith that such and such a man hath seen, such a man hath heard, and such a conscience hath discovered; in other words he dependeth upon the sight, the hearing and the conscience of others and hath no will of his own." (Abdu'l-Baha, Selections, 29)


What is wrong with not having a will of your own? It feels good, after all, for an ant to be part of a bigger anthill. But, as an imitator your will not only be weaker but stupider. Without practice, you forget how to reflect, to take ideas apart and put them back together, and how to live by eternal realities. Worse, an imitator tends to forget what good and bad really are. Aesop told a fable to illustrate the result.


"There once was a caterpillar who came upon a snake sunning itself upon a rock. The caterpillar was filled with awe at the beauty of this creature. When he compared its extended length with his own he was envious. He stretched and strained to make himself as long as the snake. Eventually he elongated himself so hard that he burst." (Aesop Without Morals, 268)


Each of us is made by and for the truth, but our own truth. The noblest part of the soul loves reality and feels discontented if it cannot express and participate in its own aspect of truth. Weakness causes irrational, knee-jerk reaction that lead to anger and violence.


This is not to say that imitation is all bad. We have to depend upon others to some extent. Even superman would not have the time, the energy and endurance to investigate everything with all the ardour that the whole truth requires.


As every teacher knows, imitation can be a useful shortcut, especially in the early stages of the learning process. You learn a lot about art by looking at paintings and about sports by watching professionals play the game. But at some stage every student has to make a part of truth his or her own. It may be painful and it requires effort but it cannot be avoided. If students were allowed to copy from their neighbours during examinations only a few would learn anything and errors would spread quickly through the class.


Worst of all, a world where imitation is common is a dangerous, precarious place. With large numbers of imitators sinking into ignorance it is easy for a few to cajole large numbers to hate, to march off to war. Imitation makes cannon fodder of us all. So in many ways a world that relied too much upon imitation would be worse off than one where nobody sought truth at all.


"It behooves us all to be lovers of truth. Let us seek her in every season and in every country, being careful never to attach ourselves to personalities." (Abdu'l-Baha, Paris Talks, 134)



--
John Taylor

email: badijet@gmail.com
blog: http://badiblog.blogspot.com/

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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey John!

I liked the way you dealt with the Baha'i principle to "forsake imitations" that Abdu'l-Baha mentions so many many times in his Promulgation of Universal Peace talks in America, and that it is of course related strongly to the independent investigation of reality.
I suppose that as we discover new truths, we will desire to and take individual initiatives, and hopefully eventually find a way to work collectively with somewhat like-minded individuals who have done their own independent investagation of reality. When a group of friends decides to work together the result can most likely be more awesome than the efforts of one individual alone. One example is the "Group of Seven" painters:

"By the 1920s, a general reorientation of Canadian painting was underway, led by the Group of Seven, perhaps the best-recognized painters in Canadian history. The Group of Seven argued strongly against pastoralism, claiming it was not a truly Canadian artistic style because it derived from European painting styles. In particular, they argued that this style of painting was too sedate and refined to be truly Canadian. For them, the rugged nature of the Canadian landscape required a bolder, more vigorous painting style and a heightened use of colour. Canada was a vibrant, rough country of vast expanses which needed to be presented in a style which conveyed this image.

The Group of Seven came together in Toronto in the 1910s and initially included: Lawren Harris, Arthur Lismer, A.Y. Jackson, J.E.H. MacDonald, Frank Johnston, F.H. Varley, and Frank Carmichael. The paintings of their close friend Tom Thomson, who died before the Group of Seven was formed, were also frequently included in their exhibitions. The members of the Group of Seven were all professional artists, some born in Canada others in England, who met each other through friends or work. Through conversations, shared sketching trips, and evening meetings at local art clubs, they discovered that they shared a similar dissatisfaction with the state of Canadian art. Individually and collectively, the artists who were to make up the Group of Seven were searching for a new way of painting -- a way of painting which would allow them to express what they believed were the distinctive attributes of Canada. By the late 1910s, their ideas had progressed to the point where they found themselves drawn to exhibit together. In 1920, they held their first exhibition as the Group of Seven.

The Jack Pine

This exhibition was neither a stirring success nor a complete failure. Some art critics didn't like the paintings -- which were distinctly different than the pastoral style to which most Canadians were accustomed, but others were impressed with the Group's efforts. Later studies of the Group of Seven have tended to emphasize the harshness with which critics and the public first treated the new art, but it is also clear that the Group quickly made important and powerful allies who supported their conception of a truly Canadian art. Perhaps their most important ally was Eric Brown, director the National Gallery of Canada (NGC). Brown arranged for the NGC to purchase the Group's paintings and included their art in international exhibitions which he organized. In fact, by 1925 the Group of Seven so much dominated the Canadian contribution to one international exhibition (because Brown made the selections) that other artists complained that they were being neglected by the NGC. Other important avenues of support came from wealthy patrons, the government of Ontario, art schools (which hired some of the members of the Group of Seven), and from important public figures and nationalists, such as Marius Barbeau, a prominent anthropologist and intellectual.

Although the members of the Group of Seven painted more than landscapes and while each member had his own distinctive style, there were some common themes to their art.... "

(Reference: http://www.mta.ca/about_canada/study_guide/artists/group_of_seven.html )

What if we had say a Group of Seven writers (including badijet), a Group of Seven poets, a Group of Seven musicians, a Group of Seven dancers, etc., or a "Group of Nine" something or rather, yes! A little imitation and a lot of creative collective thinking and production.

Why not, ay? Hey, Canadians could own this.

And of course there's the G7 nations working together. Oh the glory of political artsmanship. All the world is a stage.

By ourselves, we may become only that "walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more."

Jimbo

Anonymous said...

is it possible to achieve peace without a guardian?