THE “CITY FOURSQUARE”
BY ALLEN B. MCDANIEL
IN the Book of Revelation of our Christian Bible we have loved to read of the New Jerusalem, the Golden City. Poets and musicians have sung for ages the praises of the “city foursquare”: the deathless, eternal city, where there shall be neither sorrow nor crying, but everlasting joy and gladness. This has been the city of our fondest hopes and dreams. Undoubtedly, “a dwelling place not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” This lovely imaginative conception has in past generations inspired thousands of Christian people, who have been earnestly looking forward to the time of the end—the millennium.
Margareta and I had been looking forward for many years to a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. At last the way opened and it became possible to undertake this trip. After a stormy trip of ten days on the Atlantic, a week in Europe, and another sea voyage down the Adriatic and across the Mediterranean, one day, just as the sun dropped below the distant rim of the sea, we came in view of the shore line of Egypt and realized that we were approaching the Orient——the beginning of the end of our journey.
The following day we watched the typical delta landscape from the window of the rear compartment of our coach as the train rushed us on to Cairo. Mile after mile we followed along one of the large canals which carry water from the Nile to irrigate thousands of broad acres which seemed to stretch out before us endlessly, like a mammoth green carpet. Along the road on the far bank of the canal passed a ceaseless procession of people; some chugging along in flivvers of ancient vintage, others walking, or riding the ever-present camel or donkey, while in the fields, the fellaheen were performing their varied tasks as tillers of the soil; plowing with the same type of wooden plow drawn by water bullock or camel that was used by their forebears in the days of Joseph, cutting the alfalfa and broad bean to feed their cattle, or diverting the water raised by the sakieh into the channels to irrigate the fields.
The journey was finished and we were soon driving along one of the principal bazaar streets of the ancient city of Cairo —a street about as wide and straight as a down-town alley of Boston, on either side of which were the small shops or bazaars, where all the various activities were going on amid a seemingly incessant stream of people on foot or in carriage or on donkey. The throng about us was so dense that it did not seem possible for our carriage to move ahead without running over people at every turn of the wheels, but as our driver called out his monotonous chant of “O! yeh,” the stream of humanity parted and flowed on about and beyond us like water around a rock in the bed of a stream. Such a kaleidoscopic picture of oriental life; Bedouin jostling Arab, Egyptian in modern costume bargaining with the black-veiled and black—dressed Muslim woman; the vendor with his panier of oranges or vegetables balanced on his head, swinging along and calling out his wares, and the almost stealthy passage of the camel train headed by the patient little donkey.
A new moon was shedding its pale rays upon the hushed life of the city as we alighted from a taxi and ascended the steps of a typical Cairo residence. We were ushered into a room, around the four sides of which were seated men in the various attitudes and dress of the Near East. They arose as we entered and bowed silently as we took seats near the center of the far wall.
As we looked about us we noted the
handsome face of a young shiek, the bright,
alert bearing of several young Egyptians in
European clothes, some
dark-skinned[Page 313]
Persians,
somber in their black fezzes, two
Bedouins with their picturesque turbans, a
young German, and our host, an elderly
local merchant, his noble face crowned with
a mass of snow white hair and turban.
With a few words of greeting, our venerable host welcomed us to this gathering of his friends, and indeed our friends. "For,” he said, “here in this assemblage of Cossack, Egyptian, Bedouin, Arab, Persian, Armenian and German—the followers alike of the teachings of the Christ, of Muhammad, of Zoroaster, of the Buddha and of Moses-you from the distant Occident have but entered into the midst of one family of brothers who loved us as they loved one another, for has not our Master, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, taught, ‘ye are all the leaves of one tree, the drops of one sea’?
A musical voice began a chant, which with its plaintive note seemed to sway the gathering. One of the Bedouins spoke, and the young interpreter at our side informed us that he was expressing his joy at this meeting of the East and the West. “It was good,” he continued, “for with such meetings, racial differences disappear, prejudices are removed, and friendship established, for the Divine Servant of God, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, said, “Beware of prejudice! Light is good in whatever lamp it is burning. A rose is beautiful in whatsoever garden it may bloom. A star has the same radiance whether it shines from the East or from the West.’”
A wonderful sense of peace and calm pervaded the gathering, and for several minutes there was no sound to break the stillness. As Margareta and I looked about the room we wondered at the joy and serenity that seemed to mark alike the face of Jew and Gentile, Muslim and Zoroastrian. as not the word of our Holy Scriptures fulfilled, “the lion and lamb shall lie down together,” when fierce Bedouin chief and persecuted Armenian were here sitting side by side as loving brothers?
In parting, each man shook us both by the hand, and although no word passed, our hearts were deeply touched by the love that radiated from their faces and seemed to flow into our very beings.
"May His Spirit cheer and guide you in your travels,” spoke our host as we departed. And with face aglow and his tall, commanding figure vibrating with earnestness and sincerity he added: “Be ever mindful of the words of Him who came in this day to renew and confirm the teachings of the Christ: ‘Close your eyes to racial differences and welcome all with the light of oneness. Be the cause of comfort and promotion of humanity. Live among the people a life that will manifest signs of God. This handful of dust, the world, is one home: let it be in unity. Forsake pride—it is a cause of discord. Follow that which tends toward harmony.’”
A night’s journey by train northward over the sandy wastes of the Libyan Desert and a morning run through prosperous Jewish colonies brought us to our destination—the Palestine city of Haifa.
"Please feel that this is your home, that we are here to serve and make you happy, and while here you are the guests of Shoghi Effendi.” Such were the kindly words that greeted us on our arrival at the Bahá’í Pilgrim House. “And you perhaps know that this building was designed by one American Bahá’í and built through the generosity of other American Bahá’ís.” After several weeks of continual journeying over sea and land, with its exactions and annoyances of drafty cabins, cold, cheerless hotel rooms, bills, tips, and fees, this home seemed a sanctuary of rest.
“Shoghi Effendi will be glad to see you, said Fugeta, as he stood at the entrance to the library, where we were reading and testing after our arrival. We followed our little, active Japanese friend across the street, through a lovely garden and into the great living-room of a large house. As we entered, a youngish appearing man, wearing the Persian black fez and a long, dark coat, came forward with outstretched hands, and in a tone vibrating with sincerity greeted us.
“Welcome, welcome! We have been awaiting your arrival and we are happy that you have come at last. It is our hope that you can remain with us for a long time. Please consider this your home.”
We expressed our pleasure at reaching the destination of our pilgrimage and extended the greetings and best wishes of our mutual
Distant view of the prison-city of ‘Akká, as seen across the bay from the roof of the Pilgrim House, Haifa.
[Page 315]
friends in America. In his
quiet, gentle way, our host soon put us
completely at ease, and told us many things
about the life and teachings of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá,
in Whose former home we were conversing;
and as we listened we seemed to see moving
about the spacious sunlit rooms and the
winding paths of the garden, a tall, majestic,
noble—visaged figure dressed in a
white robe and turban. As He came to a
group of people, He stopped and greeted
them, to each in his native tongue:
“Welcome, welcome! I hope that you are well
and happy. With an unfailing, radiant
spirit He had a hearty handshake, a loving
smile, a word of cheer or a piece of money
for each and every one, depending on their
condition and need.
“From every quarter of the globe came the pilgrims to see ‘Abdu’l-Bahá,” said our host. “Around His table sat, without fear of prejudice, the Christian and the Muslim, the Jew and colored man, the rich American merchant and the poor Bedouin of the desert. As the gathering partook of the bounteous repast of pilau and fruit, the Master gave them spiritual food as well.” Again we saw that noble, radiant figure standing at the head of the table, or going about serving the pilgrims and uttering these prophetic words:
“It is the New Year; therefore it is very blessed. I wish this blessing to appear and become manifest to the end that the old earth may disappear and the new earth appear; the new star shine and gleam; new flowers bloom; the new spring become known; the new breeze blow. I desire for you all that you partake of this great bounty, and that in spirit and heart you will strive and endeavor until the world of war becomes the world of peace, the world of darkness the world of light; the ruined places become built up; the sword be turned into the olive branch; the flash of hatred become the flame of the love of God; and the noise of the gun, the voice of the Kingdom; the soldiers of death, the soldiers of life; all the nations of the world one nation; all races one race; and all the national anthems harmonized into one melody.”
As the rosy glow of the setting sun gradually faded out of the eastern sky, Margareta and I stood on the terrace in front of the beautiful tomb where lie the mortal remains of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. From this high elevation on the slope of Mount Carmel we had been quietly viewing the panorama of land and sea stretched out at our feet. At our left we saw the end of the mountain with its Franciscan monastery and the cave where dwelt the prophet Elijah. Our gaze swept over the city of Haifa and across the bay at our right to a group of lights glimmering in the distant background, where lay the old fortified city of ‘Akká.
We thought of the time, still fresh in the memory of man, when within the prison walls of the old city lived a Teacher. From distant lands came many pilgrims just to catch a glimpse of Bahá’u’lláh (Glory of God), Who, in spite of years of exile, wandering, and incarceration by the Persian and Turkish Governments, had been sending forth throughout the world a universal message. This great Teacher with prophetic utterance had called all peoples to unite under the banner of the Oneness of Mankind and of Universal Peace.
As we descended from the terrace down the moonlit path toward our Pilgrim House, a new sense of faith and hope came to us. We seemed to feel that out of the present turmoil, unrest and travail in the world, here was a spiritual ideal and power that would unite men’s hearts to bring about the promised coming of God’s Kingdom on earth, for had we not seen, in our travels and life in this place, the power of this Movement to change men’s hearts and lives, to remove old racial, social, political and religious prejudices and make it possible for them to live in loving unity? Had we not experienced the great unselfish love and service of a community of people of many races, religions, and classes? Had we not been a small part of a demonstration of a new civilization in which love replaced hate, service took the place of selfish ambition and greed, and co-operation existed instead of competition?
Margareta and I sat for a long time that
evening after dinner in the quiet of the
library. Finally, she put down the book
she was reading and looking over at me
with a dreamy expression said:
“Do you[Page 316]
remember that
in the 14th Chapter of John,
the Christ is reported to have told
His disciples that He would go and come
again, and that the Comforter would come?”
“Yes,” I replied, “and the Christians have
been looking for the Second Coming for
centuries. Similarly, the Jews have been
awaiting their Messiah, the Buddhists
anticipating the Fifth Buddha and the Muslims
the fulfillment of the prophecy of their
Prophet, Muḥammad, that a great universal
Teacher would come to the world in the
latter days.”
“And like a thief in the night He has come,” continued Margareta. “Right here, in this very country of the prophets of old, and where Jesus the Christ gave His message of love to the world, a new and greater Message of the unity of mankind through love has been given to this world, again athirst for the spiritual water of life. As ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said, this teaching is the same temple, the same foundation, but set forth to meet the complex needs and problems of this day.”
“How true this is,” I interrupted, "for even here in this small library we have before us, in printed form, the utterances of Bahá’u’lláh and the further teachings of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that cover every phase of human interest and endeavor today. You will recall that there are statements which in detail give solutions for the economic and social problems.”
“Quite so,” Margareta burst in, “and do you not recall reading to me that wonderful statement on the nature and handling of strikes? The world today, especially those enlightened and progressive parts, such as our home country, are adopting and putting into practice those wonderful principles and ideals given to the world by Bahá’u’lláh about seventy years ago.”
For several minutes the evening silence was broken only by the gentle ticks of the little French clock on the bookcase. Then Margareta turned over the leaves of a small book which had been lying on the table between us and read:
"Now is the time! Now is the accepted time!”
“Look ye at the time of Christ; had the people realized that the Holy Spirit of God was speaking to them through His divine mouth they would not have waited three centuries before accepting Him. And now is it meet for you that ye are sleeping upon the bed of idleness and neglect, while the Father foretold by Christ has come amongst us and opened the greatest door of bounteous gifts and divine favors? Let us not be like those in past centuries who were deaf to His call and blind to His beauty; but let us try and open our eyes that we may see Him, and open our ears that we may hear Him, and cleanse our hearts that He may come and abide in our temples.”
As we drove away the following morning, at the end of our pilgrimage, our hearts were singing with peace and joy, and there in the spacious blue sky above the top of Mt. Carmel, we seemed to see the Golden City, the “city foursquare,” and we knew that the vision of Him who had taught the simple folk of this land nearly two thousand years ago had been fulfilled.
