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[Page 119]

WORLD ORDER

JULY 1939

CRISIS OF THE WORLD PSYCHE

Wilfrid Barton

THE VALLEY OF SEARCH

Zoe Meyer

CAPITAL AND LABOR RECONCILED

Bertha H. Kirkpatrick

DO WE BELIEVE IN GOD?

G. A. Shook

MANKIND IS ONE

Doris McKay

[Page 120]

CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE

JULY, 1939 VOLUME 5 NUMBER 4

THE ACHIEVEMENT OF HUMAN LIFE • Editorial ...................... 121

CRISIS OF THE WORLD PSYCHE • WILFRID BARTON .......... 123

THE VALLEY OF SEARCH • ZOE MEYER ...................................... 131

HOW CAN CAPITAL AND LABOR BE RECONCILED? • BERTHA HYDE KIRKPATRICK . 135

DO WE BELIEVE IN GOD? • G. A. SHOOK .................................... 137

THE VANISHING AMERICAN • PASUPULETI GOPALA KRISHNAYYA .................. 143

THE ONENESS OF RELIGION, VI • DORIS McKAY .................... 148

THE WITNESS • POEM • ELSIE PATTERSON CRANMER . 152

ISLAM, X • ALI-KULI KHAN ................................................................ 154

PRISONER OF WAR 31163, Book Review • HELEN CAMPBELL . 158

VIEWING THE WORLD AS AN ORGANISM

Change of address should be reported one month in advance.

WORLD ORDER is published monthly in New York, N. Y., by the Publishing Committee of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States and Canada. EDITORS: Stanwood Cobb, Bertha Hyde Kirkpatrick and Horace Holley. CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: Alice Simmons Cox, Genevieve L. Coy, G. A. Shook, Dale S. Cole, Marcia Atwater, Annamarie Kunz, Marzieh Carpenter, Hasan M. Balyusi, Shirin Fozdar, Inez Greeven. BUSINESS MANAGER: C. R. Wood. PUBLICATION OFFICE: 135 East 50th Street, New York, N. Y. EDITORIAL OFFICE: 119 Waverly Place, New York, N. Y.

SUBSCRIPTIONS: $2.00 per year, $1.75 to Public Libraries. Rate to addresses outside the United States, $2.25, foreign Library rate, $2.00, Single copies, 20 cents. Checks and money orders should be made payable to World Order Magazine, 135 East 50th Street, New York, N. Y. Entered as second class matter, May 1, 1935, at the post office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879. Contents copyrighted 1939 by BAHA’I PUBLISHING COMMITTEE. Title Registered at U. S. Patent Office.

July 1939, Volume 5, Number 4

[Page 121]

WORLD ORDER

July 1939 Volume 5 No. 4

“THE ACHIEVEMENT OF HUMAN LIFE”

THE first step that separates man from the animal is the gift of thought—the capacity for forming abstractions. It is this power of scientific thinking that has made possible the progressive understanding of and conquest of nature, leading up to the marvelous technological civilization which characterizes human life in the more advanced nations.

To be human, therefore, is to think. But are we adequately utilizing this tremendous power which God has placed in us? Man might be defined as an animal with capacity for thought. The capacity is there, but not always the thought. Educators the country over are endeavoring to train the human mind. Splendid as are American educational facilities and practices, I feel safe in stating—as a result of my experiences here and abroad in handling young people of all ages, of many races, and of both sexes—that methods of education could be greatly improved from the point of view of stimulating in students the power and practice of hard, thorough, logical thinking.

And we, as adults, apart from our educational life in institutions, can and should be striving daily to improve our powers of thought. We have not achieved human life until we can rise above the emotional and sensuous life of the animal and function on the plane of thought and logic.

THE mind is a superb gift of destiny to man. But there is in man a still greater treasure, the soul. It is the soul which gives man the power to discover God. And the discovery of God in one’s daily life is the supreme achievement of a human being. Man is not worthy to be called man until he has achieved this. This is the station of Sonship which Christ spoke of. He would have us all become Sons of God, developing—in accordance with the pattern He presented us in His own perfect life—the spiritual and divine perfections.

All the troubles in the world today are due to the fact that man has not maintained a spiritual progress equal to his intellectual progress. Human intelligence is not enough to create a perfect civilization. There must be in addition the spiritual qualities, the virtues of the Kingdom of God. The spiritual life is not only the ideal. It [Page 122] is also the normal life of a human being. This is the life we should aspire to. It is the goal of human progress, both individually and collectively.

THE lack of spirituality in man is life’s supreme failure. For in what way are we better than the animals if we strive only for materialistic goals? Animals are ignorant of God because they have not the capacity for realizing Him. But human beings have no excuse for ignoring God. Religion has been revealed to man in order that he might know God and might find in Him security and happiness.

What can we do, as adults, to develop our spiritual potentialities? The first step is aspiration. We must want to grow spiritually. We must aspire —a lovely word which in its Latin derivation means “To desire with eagerness —to seek to attain something high and great—to rise, ascend, tower, soar.” Yes, aspiration is one of the noblest expressions of the human soul. And it is the first step of the upward climb toward immortality. Let us all aspire. Let us reach for the stars.

The second step in spiritual progress is inspiration. Let God inspire us. Here too is a splendid Latin word which means literally—“To breathe upon”—hence—“to infuse into the mind, to communicate to the spirit, to convey as by a divine or supernatural influence.”

Yes, let God breathe His Spirit upon us. Turn toward the Divine Source of Power in prayer at dawn and at eventide. Turn instinctively at intervals during the day. May the beauty of nature and the beauty of art in all its forms suggest to us the Divine perfection and power of the universe. Let us seek with all our hearts the Divine Love and Union.

And for the exercise and training of our spiritual powers toward the attainment of the goals of aspiration, let us turn often to the Word of God. This Word has the supreme power of inspiration. It is indeed a breath of the Holy Spirit given man to inspire him and strengthen him in his spiritual climb. Let us read it often. And let us read other inspirational literature —the inspirational writings of the world’s mystics and of the world’s great thinkers. Let us not be content with that low literature which too often savors of the gutter. Let us associate, in our daily reading, with great and noble souls—in order that we may receive from them inspiration and power to grow toward their likeness.

This is the achievement of human life—to grow more noble in character. This is our task, our unescapable responsibility. If we fulfill it, the world will grow nobler, happier, more prosperous. If we neglect it, we shall bring chaos upon ourselves and upon humanity.

S. C.

[Page 123]

CRISIS OF THE WORLD PSYCHE

WILFRID BARTON

THE realization that man, both as to his inner spiritual life and to the external social order in which he lives, is undergoing a tremendous transformation, is fast becoming a commonplace. The rapidly accelerating tempo of this change in the present hour leads many of our best thinkers to conclude that mankind is standing upon the brink of a world cataclysm marking a supreme crisis in this change. Everyone who is, to some degree at least, aware of what is going on in the world today and of the forces activating it will admit the plausibility of this line of thinking. As for those who do not do so, they are unlikely to be susceptible to the point of view advanced in this article. For it is an accepted fact that those ideas which are current among the more sensitive members of society require a period of time, perhaps several generations, before being absorbed by the masses. This, in general, appears to be the way in which the ideological evolution of the race has taken place. The present essay, therefore, is addressed primarily to those individuals who have a keen awareness of the present—that type of human which, in perhaps the most accurate use of the word, may be termed modern.

Though it is generally recognized by people who have a keen awareness of the present that our world is facing a crisis, what lies beyond this crisis is as yet an unknown void. At this point the perspicacity of these leading thinkers, be they philosophers, scientists, statesmen, or what not, comes to an end. Not one of them knows the answer.

Is it surprising under these circumstances, with humanity ready to step off into the abyss, that the minds of an ever-increasing proportion of the population should be turned into a turmoil, beset with uncertainty, fear, and despair? C. G. Jung, one of the world’s leading psychologists and psychiatrists, makes the following arresting statement: “We are living undeniably in a period of the greatest restlessness, nervous tension, confusion and disorientation of outlook. Among my patients from many countries, all of them educated persons, there is a considerable number who came to see me, not because they were suffering from a neurosis, but because they could find no meaning in life or were torturing themselves with questions which neither present-day philosophy nor religion could answer. Some of them perhaps thought that I knew of a magic formula, but I was soon forced to tell them that I, too, had no answer to give.”

It is this uncertainty and hopelessness, [Page 124] felt today by the more sensitive members of society and ultimately and inevitably by the whole mass of the population, which constitutes one of the surest signs of the dangerously critical state of man’s collective spiritual life. Unless a remedy be found, man’s inner life will be destroyed, reflecting itself outwardly, and to the same degree, in the destruction of the society which he has built up.

What are the causes underlying this inner turmoil to which the collective psyche, so to speak, is subject? Mr. Jung, unlike Mr. Freud and Mr. Adler with their emphasis upon the sexual factor and the urge to power respectively, claims that these troubles are intimately associated with the religious needs of man. “This ‘psychological’ interest of the present time,” he says, “shows that man expects something from psychic life which he has not received from the outer world; something which our religions, doubtless, ought to contain, but no longer do contain—at least for the modern man.” And again he says, “Among all my patients in the second half of life—that is to say, over thirty-five—there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which the living religions of every age have given to their followers, and none of them has been really healed who did not regain his religious outlook. This of course has nothing whatever to do with a particular creed or membership of a church.” And then again,—“It seems to me, that, side by side with the decline of religious life, the neuroses grow noticeably more frequent.”

It is because the present-day religions are inadequate to cope with the innate religious needs of modern man that the psychic balance has been upset. Religion, whose function it has always been to endue man’s life with direction, meaning, and purpose, has ceased, in any of its recognized contemporary forms, to exert an appreciable influence upon the progress of the world. Quite to the contrary—religion, through its corruption with superstition and human conceptions, and its entanglement in mundane and materialistic interests, has become a cause of human degradation. Intelligent and sensitive minds perceive this, and there is a consequent and ever-increasing dissociation of the lives of such individuals—the truly moderns —from organized religion. In the case of those who have not openly broken with the church, their loyalty remains either lukewarm or fanatical. In no case does the church today adequately satisfy man’s spiritual needs. The version of religion which it offers has not the power to make over the individual soul, much less the world he inhabits.

DECLINE OF THE CHURCH

Within the bounds of the major religious systems at the present time, as has just been intimated, the decline of power has manifested itself in fanaticism, on the one hand, and in lukewarmness and indifference on the other. The former attitude applies chiefly to the orthodox branches of present-day religious bodies, whether Jewish, Muhammadan, or Christian, [Page 125] Protestant or Catholic. The latter attitude applies to the so-called liberal religionists. The fanaticism of the orthodox religionist consists, of course, in his rigid adherence, in complete disregard of the dictates of reason and established scientific truth, to a literal interpretation of the scriptures of his particular religion. The lukewarmness of the liberalist’s belief arises from the inroads made upon his faith by the prodigious advance of scientific knowledge chiefly within the last century. Science has gradually knocked one prop after another from under his religious creed, reducing it to little more than a shadow of its former self. Progress in the scientific realm has also helped to open wide the door of individual interpretation, which has perhaps liberated the human mind from a blind and servile subjection to dogmatism but has also robbed religion of that authority from above which is its mainstay. The liberalist attitude, under existing conditions, tends more and more to take the God out of religion and to reduce religion to the status of a purely human philosophy. It is not surprising, therefore, that such a diluted form of faith is incapable of satisfying the spiritual needs of the individual and of building a new social order.

But since the characteristically modern man has for the most part left the Church because his spiritual needs have not been satisfied there, the religious aspect of his nature has poured itself into other channels. The “psychological” interest of the present time which Jung mentions is one of the forms which this expression has taken. Not merely in scientific psychology, however, but in all manner of psychic and occult phenomena does this spiritual element seek satisfaction. To what, for example, may we attribute the origin and popularity of such movements as Astrology, Theosophy, Christian Science, New Thought, Rosicrucianism, Buchmanism, Spiritualism, The Great I Am and countless others? There is no doubt but that these movements provide outlets for vital psychic needs which can no longer be satisfactorily met within the Church. Thus the vogue of such movements is at once an indication of the effete condition of organized religion and of an increased capacity on the part of man for a higher measure of spiritual truth and understanding. A new age has dawned for the human psyche. New spiritual needs have become realized. And the world spirit of man is seeking in any number of ways to satisfy these new-found needs.

Under the same heading as the spiritual movements just mentioned may be classed those types of mysticism, the aberrant offshoots of revealed religion, which, not recognizing the necessity of a prophetic intermediary, seek directly and by divers methods to realize in the individual soul unity with the Divine Essence. These, too, may be regarded as attempts of the human soul to fulfill its spiritual needs through other than the established channels of organized religion.

PHILOSOPHIC MATERIALISM

Then we turn to philosophy. Like mysticism, philosophy also attempts to solve man’s spiritual problem, the [Page 126] main distinction being that whereas in mysticism the approach is through intuition, in philosophy reason is the determining factor. Though philosophy exists as a discipline separate and distinct from religion and may therefore, like those forms of mysticism just referred to, be regarded as a substitute for or alternative to religion (in the sense of prophetic revelation), both fields are nevertheless closely related and have, down through the ages, constantly interacted upon each other. When religion is a potent force in society, philosophy tends to be infused with its influence. On the other hand, a decline of religious power is accompanied by a corresponding increase of materialism in philosophic thought. Thus the philosophy of a given period is a good index of the religious temper of the age. In our own time the dying out of faith in God is attended with a powerful trend toward a purely materialistic philosophy. Humanism has taken precedence over deism as the fashionable philosophy of modern man. Recognizing no higher authority than that of the individual conscience, the modern tendency is characteristically amoral and hedonistic. The inevitable outcome is havoc and chaos as far as man’s spiritual life is concerned.

It is in the political realm, however, in the movements associated with the intensification of the spirit of nationalism on the one hand and in the Communist movement on the other, that the materialism permeating modern thought has received its most forceful expression. By reason of the fact that these movements do not consist simply in their materialistic premises but in the projection of these ideas into the plane of action in the outer world, their influence is all the more far-reaching and pernicious. In the passionate devotion and loyalty which they command they are absorbing the psychic energies of the continually-augmenting body of their followers, thereby threatening to completely destroy and supplant the influence of religion in the world. On the one hand, the trend toward an intolerant and self-contained nationalism, though apparently reconciling itself with established religion and even, in some cases, upheld by its exponents, in reality fosters the evils of violent racial and political prejudices so destructive of human solidarity and world peace and naturally quite antithetical to the aim and purpose of religion itself. On the other hand, Communism, far from making any pretense at preserving moral values, claims openly to be based upon a purely atheistic and thoroughgoing materialism.

THE SPIRITUAL CRISIS

To sum up, then, the spiritual crisis of modern man is to be understood in terms of a profound disturbance of the religious consciousness of mankind. This disturbance reflects itself on the right hand in the predicament of orthodox religion with its fanatical adherence to literal scriptural interpretation and man-made dogma in opposition to science. On the far left is the atheistic-materialistic group representing the complete revolt from religion. Midway between these two extremes lie the vast number of spiritual movements more or less religious in character, representing that liberalist [Page 127] frame of mind, which, while dissociating itself from orthodox religion, seeks nevertheless to preserve by human invention those idealistic elements which a downright materialism lacks.

Of all three of these types of spiritual consciousness, however,—the orthodox, atheist, and middle-of-the-road liberalist,—it may be said that they possess in common the inability to cope adequately with the spiritual problem of modern man. The orthodox religionist, through his failure to reconcile his dogmas with natural science, has lost the support of a vast number of intelligent and perhaps, under normal conditions, genuinely religious persons. The atheistic class, since it confines its attention to the material world, either ignores or denies the existence of a specifically spiritual problem, and therefore offers nothing to a solution. Such an attitude, moreover, if consistently applied, can have only one outcome— the subjection of the nature of the man to its animal propensities. For when we subtract God from human life, there is nothing left to distinguish it substantially from that of the animal. And finally the liberalist, no matter with which one of the above-mentioned spiritual cults or groups he may be associated, since his faith, such as it may be, rests upon a basis of humanism rather than of divine authority, loses the dynamic force which only a God-inspired religion has shown itself capable of imparting. In attempting to straddle the fence between religion and materialism the liberalist can subscribe positively and wholeheartedly to neither. The inevitable result is both an impotent faith and a psychic void waiting, and indeed requiring, to be filled. What, then, is the way out of this dilemma?

REVIVAL OF RELIGION

Nothing short of a revival of the religious consciousness of mankind would seem capable of resolving the problem. Equally plausible is the idea that such a revival can come about only through the appearance of a prophet or Manifestation of God with a new revelation of Divine truth directly applicable to present conditions. Every great spiritual rebirth of human society traces its origin to the teachings of a prophet of God. Other revivals of a more or less religious or spiritual character there have been, to be sure, apparently stemming from purely human origins. But these movements, at best, constitute a rediscovery of certain verities implicit in the words of the Prophets and can not of themselves lay claim to any novelty. At their worst they represent a gross perversion and corruption of those same teachings. The human mind, when it attempts to create in the realm of religious or spiritual values, and no matter whether the approach be through philosophy or mysticism, necessarily impresses upon the products of its labors the character of its own inherent limitations. That is to say, man can know only what he imagines, not God. The effort of man to solve such questions unaided by God creates a vicious circle from which there is no escape—unless we wish to consider the maze of imagination an escape. That is why a solution [Page 128] of man’s spiritual problem from any purely human source is impossible.

It should therefore be clear that man, being innately limited, can not create his own spiritual life but must depend for it upon some unlimited Source. The most he can do in this respect is to pass judgment upon moral values which are already presented to his consciousness. But the presentation itself is an act of grace from this higher Source. Being ignorant, man must have One to educate him. Being helpless, he must rely upon the assistance of an All-Powerful One. But direct access to God, as we see, is impossible. Consequently it is to the Prophets, who are the Manifestations of God, that man must go for guidance, for the knowledge of God, and for the basis of his spiritual life. The Prophet or Manifestation of God is, by definition, a unique order of human being chosen by God to be the source of enlightenment and progress for the race. Historically the appearance of a Manifestation of God has always coincided with a rebirth of the spiritual life of the society in which He appeared. Such a rebirth is necessary in the world today, and one is forced to conclude that only the appearance of a Manifestation of God can bring it. For the religions of the past, as we have seen, are decadent; their force is spent. It is due to their weakness that the psychic energies of mankind have been driven into all sorts of barren or destructive channels precipitating the present profound crisis. Only a new Revelation can restore this life that has been lost, build a new consciousness and a new world order. Only the “return” of a Christ can remedy the ills from which humanity now suffers.

BAHÁ’U’LLÁH

The answer which the Bahá’ís have to offer to this question is that this remedy is at hand. Bahá’u’lláh, founder of the Bahá’í Faith, they regard as God’s chosen Manifestation for this Day and as the sole insrrument for the spiritual rehabilitation of human society. They believe that only through a complete and thoroughgoing reliance upon God is it possible to attain spiritual health, poise, and development. Reliance upon God is indeed the essence of the teachings of all the prophets of the past. But whenever, at any stage in history, this reality underlying all religion becomes obscured by false, man-made conceptions and its true meaning disregarded and forgotten, a re-statement of Divine Truth becomes necessary. God sends another Manifestation to earth. His teaching renews the spiritual life of man and provides all the requisite means and agencies for his further development. It sets the standard by which alone the proper course for the life and progress of the human psyche can be determined.

This, therefore, is the message of the Bahá’í Faith—that in these troubled times, when the light of religion has become darkened and is threatened with complete extinction, God has not left His creatures without the means of extricating themselves from this danger but, on the contrary has, through the Manifestation of Bahá’u’lláh (i. e., the Glory of God), breathed a new Spirit into the [Page 129] world capable of entirely dispelling this darkness and of transforming the world into a veritable paradise. The Bahá’ís recognize in the convulsions now agitating human society the beginnings of that period of intense suffering and tribulation which must necessarily precede the establishment of God’s kingdom on Earth. They consider that the Prophets of the past have referred directly to this period when speaking of “the Latter Days” and “the Time of the End.” By these and other terms numerous references have been made to it, not only in the Hebraic Scriptures but in the Christian and Muhammadan writings as well. For example, in the book of Zephaniah the following passage is recorded concerning it: “The great day of Jehovah is near, it is near and hasteth greatly, even the voice of the day of Jehovah; the mighty man crieth there bitterly. That day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a day of wasteness and desolation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and thick darkness, a day of the trumpet and alarm, against the fortified cities, and against the high battlements. And I will bring distress upon men, that they shall walk like blind men, because they have sinned against Jehovah; and their blood shall be poured out as dust, and their flesh as dung. Neither their silver nor their gold shall be able to deliver them in the day of Jehovah’s wrath; but the whole land shall be devoured by the fire of his jealousy; for he will make an end, yea, a terrible end of all them that dwell in the land.” The Prophet Joel says, “for the day of Jehovah is great and very terrible; and who can abide it?” Bahá’u’lláh, reiterating these sentiments, utters the following words: “The days are approaching their end, and yet the peoples of the earth are seen sunk in grievous heedlessness, and lost in manifest error.” “Say; O Concourse of the heedless! I swear by God! The promised day is come, the day when tormenting trials will have surged above your heads, and beneath your feet, saying: ‘Taste ye what your hands have wrought!’ “The time for the destruction of the world and its people hath arrived. He Who is the Pre-existent is come, that He may bestow everlasting life, and grant eternal preservation, and confer that which is conducive to true living.”

The fortunes of mankind, impelled by the inexorable forces of Destiny, are being rapidly driven to the point where nothing on earth shall avail man or offer him the promise of security. If all his temporal attachments are cut from him one by one, upon what may he then rely save God? No inference could be more clear or simple than this. The final hour, as promised in all the prophetic books, has not yet struck. Its full implications we can not even at present realize. But no one with that keen awareness of the present already referred to can deny that such an “end” is the goal toward which all the forces of the contemporary world are moving. No doubt the general run of mankind, in their heedlessness and sense of self-sufliciency, will ignore these prophetic warnings until the last hour is upon them,—and then it may be too late. But for those of us who, we [Page 130] may thank God, have not fallen heir to this delusion and have realized our dependence and helplessness, would it not be well for us to sever ourselves from dependence upon earthly things and to fix our hearts upon that which alone is imperishable—the love of God? To do this, of course, we must turn to the Manifestation of God. The voice of God, represented by the pen of Bahá’u’lláh, speaks to man in the following words: “O My Servant! Free thyself from the fetters of this world, and loose thy Soul from the prison of self. Seize thy chance, for it will come to thee no more.” “O ye that are bereft of understanding! A severe trial pursueth you, and will suddenly overtake you. Bestir yourselves, that haply it may pass and inflict no harm upon you.” “Clothe yourselves, O people, with the garment of assurance, in order that He may protect you from the dart of doubts and superstitions, and that ye may be of those who are assured in those days wherein none shall ever be assured and no one shall be firmly established in the Cause, except by severing himself from all that is possessed by the people and turning unto the Holy and Radiant Outlook. . . . Say, in that Day there is no refuge for any one save the Command of God, and no salvation for any soul but God.”

---

By the sorrows which afflict the beauty of the All-Glorious! Such is the station ordained for the true believer that if to an extent smaller than a needle’s eye the glory of that station were to be unveiled to mankind, every beholder would be consumed away in his longing to attain it. For this reason it hath been decreed that in this earthly life the full measure of the glory of his own station should remain concealed from the eyes of such a believer. . . . If the veil be lifted, and the full glory of the station of those who have turned wholly towards God, and in their love for Him renounced the world, be made manifest, the entire creation would be dumbfounded—BAHÁ’U’LLÁH.

[Page 131]

THE VALLEY OF SEARCH

ZOE MEYER

“THE world’s equilibrium hath been upset through the vibrating influence of this most great, this new World Order.”

Today the world is seeking frenziedly to restore that balance, not knowing for what it is searching, believing it to be power, wealth, pleasure, or greater material possessions. A few, (only a few) are seeking rather vaguely and fruitlessly the more abundant life as spoken of by Jesus, not knowing that the way has been clearly charted and that they have but to turn the pages.

In His small book, “The Seven Valleys,” Bahá’u’lláh explains what this search is: the search to know God. And He can be known only through a knowledge of His Manifestation. We find in His account of the first step, the Valley of Search, these significant words: “A true seeker wishes only union with the object of his desire and a lover’s sole aim is to meet with his beloved one.” How this differs from the ordinary conception of the goal of life! Is it not true that through the centuries of his growth the highest conception man has reached of a “good life” is a life of service to his fellow men? Yet Bahá’u’lláh says there is a higher, the search to know God, man’s one end and aim. To be sure He enjoins service to humanity, but as a means, not an end. Man must find God and enter His presence.

At the beginning of the “Valley of Search” Bahá’u’lláh enjoins two things upon the seeker: patience even though the journey be ages long; and a glad spirit—“Nor shall he ever be downcast.” In return He makes a promise: “He who seeks Us with perseverance shall be assuredly guided unto Us.” And He refers to it as a journey “from the plane of heedlessness [or indifference] to the realm of being.” From this point on, by matchless word and illustration He leads the seeker through the valley, pointing out the way, helping and encouraging, to a glorious culmination.

“It is requisite for such servants to purge the heart . . . from every impression.” Obviously, as referred to here, the heart is the center of being, the repository of impressions from the outer senses made all through the life of an individual. Otherwise there would be no need for this purging or erasing. Is He not telling the searcher that, before the heart can be “the wellspring of divine treasure,” it must be cleansed of all preconceived ideas, just as the truth teachers have taught what they term the “subconscious” must be cleansed of all false ideas?

What are some of these impressions? [Page 132] One of the most dangerous and most insidious with many of us is fear; fear of poverty, of old age, of death, of loneliness, of bodily weakness or danger of all kinds. Another false impression and one which is all the more deadly because we fail to recognize it as a danger but think it is but common sense, is the doubt of the ever-presence of Good, Good being not alone the Presence of God but of all the good things He has prepared for His children.

How many times we hear the Phrase “too good to be true.” Nothing is too good to be true and belief to the contrary is a false impression fixed upon our hearts by a lack of understanding on our part, and by the belief passed on to us from childhood by others who are far from a recognition of God.

In the “Gleanings” Bahá’u’lláh says, “Man is the supreme talisman. Lack of a proper education hath, however, deprived him of that which he doth inherently possess.” In other words, our education (and by this we mean the sum of the impressions which we have formed through the years) has been downward instead of upward, toward the negative rather than the positive. There are no limitations with God. There is only a man-made belief in limitation.

May we take one more illustration, an impression which has surely worn a groove in many hearts: a belief that life must be a continual struggle for the means of livelihood. Where did this impression come from? Not from God surely, but from the impressions handed to us from the time we are able to talk. Bahá’u’lláh says in a Hidden Word: “From the tree of effulgent glory I have ordained for thee the choiceSt fruit; wherefore hast thou turned away and contented thyself with that which is inferior?” Does this say that anything is too good to be true? And does He say anywhere that these “choicest fruits” are spiritual alone?

Of course we know what has happened and why this so-called material phase is not being stressed at this time. Man has forgotten, or never realized, his goal, and has made the realization of a comfortable living or of luxury his aim, rather than a result of his spiritual growth. Hence the gathering of false impressions, which has followed naturally, has become his punishment and the cause, please God, of his turning back to God when he has suffered enough. Bahá’u’lláh describes them as those “whom God has caused to forget their own selves.” He enjoins us all through His writings to see with the eye of God. The eye of God sees no lack of any kind.

To return to the “Valley of Search:” Bahá’u’lláh says that the servants must “forsake blind imitation inherited from their forebears.” Many of us have interpreted this as religious belief,—not to follow blindly what has been told to us but to seek Truth independently. Probably this is the primary meaning, but Bahá’u’lláh has also said that every word has seventy and seven meanings. And they may be found by the earnest seeker all through the sacred Literature. By the above statement may He not also be admonishing man not to accept another’s interpretation of anything, save only the interpretation of those [Page 133] appointed, and to prayerfully search for himself? In this way he passes many times through the Valley of Search.

“To close the door of friendship or enmity to all upon the earth,” in other words to all who persist in striving toward an earthly goal and forming their own lives and influencing the lives of those whom they contact accordingly. Unless we are entirely immune to the inroad of false impressions, we cannot afford close association with them; neither can we afford enmity toward others because of its effect upon our own lives. In another sense, may the words not mean that we must not let the cords of friendship or enmity toward anyone, even those who aspire as we do, to become so strong that they blind and hamper?

“In this journey he [the seeker] will see many a Jacob wandering in quest of Joseph.” Jacob, as we know, was the father who searched for his son that was sold into Egypt. We seek our happiness in family ties and fail to find it satisfying, or we seek it in human love and find ourselves disappointed, disillusioned and bitter. Or we seek God, but not in the wholehearted, one-pointed manner which admits no other aim. For one who does seek knowingly, “every hour he becomes cognizant of a secret,” he learns a truth which before was to him a closed book. It makes life a constant adventure in expectation.

“For he has abandoned both worlds and is intent to reach the Kabih of the Beloved One.” He strives primarily neither for the things of earth or heaven, but keeps his eye and thought and all of himself on the goal of a knowledge of God through His Manifestation. All other good follows.

Then again comes the comforting promise in Bahá’u’lláh’s own words: “At every step aid from the invisible will attend him.”

There follows a story of a search for the Beloved which Bahá’u’lláh gives as a measure by which to guage our own search: the measure of sparing no effort, even though it look very unimportant upon the surface. Intensive effort is always rewarded.

Now we return to the words quoted earlier: “A true seeker wishes only union with the object of his desire and a lover’s sole aim is to meet with his beloved one.” Upon this theme Bahá’u’lláh now enlarges. “To reach this goal, the seeker must needs sacrifice his all.”

These words have been the subject of much thought and explanation, and in some cases the means of turning a seeker away with the remark: “What is the use? That goal is beyond human reach or, if reached, would rob life of all its joy.”

Look at Bahá’u’lláh’s own explanation of the words.

“That is [He says] he must set at naught whatsoever he has seen, heard or learned.” Here can we not see a further explanation of, or a means of attaining, a heart purged of every impression? Bahá’u’lláh uses the phrase “set at naught.” He does not say ignore these impressions from the senses and try to rise above them. He knew that until one impression is erased, another cannot find full acceptance. To “set at naught” is an active process.

In the Christian Science teachings [Page 134] and in others, “denial” has a part. The seeker erases the impression by his spoken word (mental or voiced) that the negative has no power, is just a figment of his own “vain imaginations.” Thoughts and spoken words, science tells us, have actual power. Does not Bahá’u’lláh recognize this fact in the use of the phrase “set at naught,” render powerless? With His help we can consciously set at naught all these false sense-impressions, by knowing and recognizing them as our own “idle fancies and vain imaginations.” Then the next step is knowing that in the future, through His help, we may live in what He terms in many places “Reality,” the knowledge that only Good exists because there is only God, and that seeming evil is only the absence of Good as seen by our own limited eyes. We may have the Good if we seek “knowingly.” Then, indeed, the seeker attains “the domain of the spirit which is the City of God.” If we quaff this chalice, says Bahá’u’lláh, we shall “forget the world,” not by striving to ignore it but because our attention is turned away from it.

In the close of His short explanation of the Valley, Bahá’u’lláh gives two requisites for the seeker: first, eternal and constant search. “On this journey the wayfarer abides in every land and resides in every realm. In every face he seeks the beauty of the Friend, and in every land he looks for the Beloved;” second, an open mind. “He befriends every group and communes with every soul—haply he may find the mystery of the Beloved in some soul and behold the beauty of the Friend in some face.”

To sum up: two worlds are possible for man—one, found through seeking only to know God, the satisfying, eternal, abundant life; the other, the world of the senses with all its limitations, fears, doubts and transitory nature. The choice lies entirely with the seeker and is made daily, yes, momently.

Then Bahá’u’lláh concludes: if the seeker “by the help of God finds in this journey a trace of the traceless friend . . . he shall forthwith enter the Valley of Love.”

The first contribution in a symposium on The Seven Valleys of Bahá’u’lláh.

[Page 135]

HOW CAN LABOR AND CAPITAL BE RECONCILED?

Answers to Questions

BERTHA HYDE KIRKPATRICK

IT is one of the important teachings of Bahá’u’lláh that the long-standing disagreements between capital and labor can and will come to an end. However, to bring this about is difficult because both right hearts and right laws are necessary. Always we find in the Bahá’í teachings that the solution of social problems is twofold—right hearts and right laws. The guidance to both is also found in the teachings. When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá says on the one hand, “The fundamentals of the whole economic condition are divine in nature and are associated with the world of the heart and spirit,” He says on the other hand, “The governments will enact these laws, establishing just legislation and economics . . .”

‘Abdu’l-Bahá has dealt with this problem in His talks and writings but not in too much detail as details must be worked out by governments. The root of the labor problem is injustice. “It is clear and evident,” says ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, “that the repartition of excessive fortunes amongst a small number of individuals, while the masses are in misery, is an iniquity and injustice.” Also in many cases this injustice has given rise to ill-will on both sides. There is the “extreme sharpness and rapacity of the capitalists and manufacturers,” and also “the excesses, the avidity and ill-will of the workmen and artisans.”

The remedy which ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gives is not strikes because force increases ill-will and does not end in justice. Strikes encourage more strikes. Neither is the remedy, as some think, absolute equality, “for absolute equality in fortunes, honors, commerce, agriculture, industry would end in want of comfort, in discouragement, in disorganization of the means of existence, and in universal disappointment: the order of the community would be destroyed.” Both the needs of society and the differences in the innate capacities of individuals make absolute equality impracticable.

‘Abdu’l-Bahá gives a two-fold remedy —laws which are just to both capital and labor, and good-will on both sides. He gives the reason why these matters should be made the subject of law and government: “The interference of courts of justice and of the government in difficulties pending between manufacturers and workmen is legal for the reason that current affairs between workmen and manufacturers [Page 136] cannot be compared with ordinary affairs between private persons, which do not concern the public, and with which the government should not occupy itself. In reality, although they appear to be matters between private persons, these difficulties between patrons and workmen produce a general detriment; for commerce, industry and agriculture and the general affairs of the country are all intimately linked together. If one of these suffers an abuse, the detriment affects the mass.”

According to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá three things must be considered in making just laws of reconciliation. Excess fortunes should be limited, fair wages should be assured, and there should be profit sharing. These laws must be fair to the capitalist as well as to the laborer. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá points out that the limiting of fortunes is not only a matter of justice but that the rich will be much happier with less wealth. He says, “if the fortune is disproportionate the capitalist succumbs under a formidable burden, and gets into the greatest difficulties and troubles; the administration of an excessive fortune is very difficult, and exhausts man’s natural strength.”

The workmen, too, have responsibility. When they have received justice, “the workmen should no longer rebel and revolt, nor demand beyond their rights; they should no longer go out on strike, they should be obedient and submissive, and not ask for impudent wages.”

Justice on both sides will go a long ways towards creating good-will, and labor and capital will realize that their interests are mutual, that the prosperity and happiness of each depends upon those of the other. And there is one more thing which Bahá’u’lláh tells us is necessary for happiness in this connection. It is voluntary sharing. His words are: “O Children of Dust! Tell the rich of the midnight sighing of the poor, lest heedlessness lead them into the path of destruction, and deprive them of the Tree of Wealth. To give and to be generous are attributes of Mine; well is it with him who adorneth himself with My virtues.”

[Page 137]

DO WE BELIEVE IN GOD?

G. A. SHOOK

THE unreflecting mind is ready to believe in anything that directly or indirectly seems to satisfy basic human desires. As we develop, we strive to rise above the desire nature; we become unselfish and altruistic, we long for beauty, for rhythm in sound and color. We want life to have meaning and coherence, we seek for absolute standards, for perfection. No longer are we satisfied with food, shelter, protection, the approval of others or even friendship, love, and affection, success in work, or stimulating ideas. We desire harmony with others and our environment. We desire a goal that transcends our own experiences or the experiences of others like ourselves. To be sure, most of us are governed only by a few of these human satisfactions and the more primitive, by the more elemental desires such as social security, health, and friendship. Should we ask a number of sincere well-meaning people, of average intelligence, to make a list of their basic desires, we should discover that the list would include ideals and goals as well as desires. We are not aware, or we refuse to believe, that we are governed by rather primitive instincts. The God of the undeveloped is a God who will grant immediate needs on this physical plane, but we are not always aware of this. To illustrate, every now and then we learn of a great philanthropist who seemingly demonstrates the efficacy of prayer. When he desires a new building for some worthy institution, he prays for it and immediately receives it. If he needs financial support, he prays for it and in some miraculous way it comes to him. He is unselfish and tireless in his efforts, he spends his whole life for others. Ostensibly this is an excellent example of the potency of prayer. But should our philanthropist examine his methods introspectively, is it not possible that he would discover that his God would appear in the light of a silent business partner who always signs the checks? If we persist in prayer, it is quite plausible that our prayers will be answered. But it does not follow that the things for which we persistently ask are necessarily the best for us.

The reflecting mind, on the other hand, strives for a comprehensive view of life; he cannot be satisfied with mere articles of faith, sentiment, or a feeling of benevolence although these may be potent factors in producing immediate results. Even the superstitious are a little ahead of the man who is intellectually lazy, for the superstitious at least make an effort to solve the problems that confront [Page 138] them while the indifferent merely live upon and usurp the efforts of others.

HOW MAKE PROGRESS?

In view of these facts, as we try to assimilate them today, how does the human race make progress? Where shall we begin, when confronted with life’s most urgent questions?

Is there a Divine Mind or a Divine Will?

Has the world outgrown the need of a personal God, the need of a fresh revelation of the Divine Will? Will the deistic god of modern science regenerate mankind? Will scientific thinking replace religious devotions or a belief in a personal God? In the world today, is science doing more than organized religion in the elimination of poverty, or the prevention of crime?

If we face the facts with an independent and unbiased mind, we must admit that for several generations the field of the religionist has been contracting while the field of the materialist has been expanding. Problems that once fell to the lot of religion are now solved by science.

It is not surprising, therefore, that thoughtful men sometimes question the efficacy of extant religious institutions and lean toward science. Perhaps they reason that final causes are not so important as secondary causes. “Let us then,” they seem to say, “increase man’s power to control life by the means we have at our disposal. Possibly first principles will take care of themselves. In spite of conflicting theories, modern science has made continuous progress from the time of its inception and, when rightly used, is the most important factor in modern civilization.”

There are today three views or theories concerning the progress of humanity.

1. A popular view, shared alike by the intelligentsia and the more enlightened of the suppressed classes, maintains that man’s talents, tendencies, and even desires are due to inheritance, environment, education and economic opportunity. Science can control these factors. Such a view leads to a Godless faith—some kind of humanism.

2. Another view looks to the realm of value: justice, truth, beauty, ideals and character. Science has very little to say about these factors. According to this view, ideals, character, and spirituality cannot be developed by the methods of science. But a belief in God is not necessarily implied; Such a view may lead to some kind of theism but not to revelation. Those who hold this view believe in an Infinite Power, but the proof they advance for the existence of this Infinite Power is the proof that has been advanced by philosophers since the time of Descartes. There is within man, they reason, an urge toward some supreme goal, towards something he may never attain. He has a longing in his heart for something of incomparable worth. He strives and attains a goal but soon discovers that it is beyond his expectations. He then reasons that beyond all human endeavor there must be a Superhuman Spirit, something that is beyond the power of man to comprehend. This Infinite Power or this Superhuman Spirit, however, is not the God of Revelation [Page 139] who manifests Himself through a prophet, such as Christ, Muhammad, or Bahá’u’lláh.

3. Finally there are those who still believe that the higher life, spiritual growth, ideals and character are impossible without some kind of a belief in God. But what kind of a God is implied in this view? Is He the traditional God of Revelation? Is He a personal God? Can He be known through His works? Can He be known by turning inward? Is a personal experience (intellectual or emotional) a necessary and sufficient basis for a belief in God? Can this kind of belief be made universal? These questions are fundamental and the answers should lead to some kind of a unified concept of God but experience shows that too often they tend, rather, to increase the diversity of religious thinking.

SEARCH FOR VALID PROOF

In the various discussions we read today on the existence of God, the efficacy of religion, or the potency of prayer, we observe a conscientious and sincere desire to discover some valid proof of the existence of an omnipotent power that sustains some kind of relation with man—a proof consistent with the maturity of the age. The majority of mankind are willing to accept a deistic belief, but a personal God who is concerned with our daily welfare and to whom we may pray, is quite another matter.

Theology maintains that individual spiritual experience warrants the belief in a personal God. This is plausible, theology believes, but only an inference; it is not something that is obtained by intuition. Those who are governed more by emotion than by reason, those who are willing to sacrifice coherence for feeling, attempt to make religious experience a basis of agreement and to these the doctrine of the existence of a personal God is a direct intuition.

God is sometimes defined as a Superhuman Reality which can be studied and observed as we would study the laws of the Universe or the progress of mankind. Many are confident that God is merciful and just and personally concerned with the welfare of His creation. But again He is defined as that force within the individual or the race that urges it forward or that power which operates within man and society to bring about the greatest good. The personal element is not always explicit. Those who insist upon the personal element too often fall back upon experience, private and personal, but such experiences are not universal nor communicable and moreover they may be explained without the assumption of any kind of God, Personal, Transcendant or Immanent. In other words, such experiences are not necessarily a proof of the existence of the historic God of Revelation.

FAITH OR FEELING?

To all these concepts we raise the pertinent question, Where is the Divine Mind and the Divine Will?

To be sure, God may be defined as that Highest Good working within the individual or the group. If we accept this definition, no proof of His existence is necessary. Or He may be defined in terms of an abnormal experience, [Page 140] intellectual or emotional— here again a proof is superfluous. But the kind of God implied in such definitions as these may be nothing more than a reflection of our reactions to certain more or less superficial concepts of God or to our reactions to “religious feeling.” We attend a Synagogue, a Mosque, or a Church where there is a genial fellowship based upon religious interest and feeling. The architecture, the music, and the ritual may all cooperate to engender a feeling of devotion and adoration. Something within us responds —we are lifted far above the ordinary level of emotion, we become optimistic and altruistic, we are able to face the problem of the future. In short, we feel “spiritual.” We may even go so far as to maintain that this is a proof of God’s existence. If this is not the spirit of God within us, we may ask, what is it?

Does history prove, however, that a Faith based primarily upon religious feeling has accomplished anything comparable to the achievements of the historic religions?

This religious feeling seems indispensable to certain types and at its best it makes an appeal to all classes. But, we may seriously ask, where is the Divine Mind and the Divine Will?

In difficult times the reflecting mind gets very little consolation from this kind of religious feeling. Thoughtful people who try to face the inconsistencies and paradoxes of a modern civilization cannot be content with a mere feeling of “well-being.” The proof of the existence of a God of spiritual optimism which we are asked to accept is in reality no proof at all. We are simply asked to give up our search and believe in the eternal goodness of man or an unknown cosmic force. That which we are called upon to believe in, we may call God. God is defined in such a way that no proof is required. The subtle appeal to the ego is just sufficient to befog the real issue. The credulous believes and is often benefited, but not the reflecting mind.

To many serious-minded people, however, anything that will feed the soul of man, in this dark period, should be welcome. But we should not be deceived by results—that which makes an immediate appeal is not always enduring.

On the other hand, all these aids to spiritual growth are desirable even though they belong to the realm of the sensuous. Beauty, rhythm and harmony are necessary for the fullest development of the soul, but let us remember that they are not sufficient. Ritual and religious emotion are poor substitutes for the positive knowledge and assurance that the destinies of mankind are in the power of an Omnipotent God. Such was the faith of primitive Christianity in a disintegrating empire. The early Christians were a mere handful of unimportant people. They were persecuted. They were martyred. But they did start a revolution. They set up a different quality of response—in time Rome responded. Such has been the faith in every prophetic religion.

The reformer with his limited vision sees only evil in these aids to spiritual unfoldment. Those religious groups in the past that have eliminated [Page 141] from worship all the things that delight the eye and the ear and have concentrated on “inner development,” have attained extraordinary results. Not only have they attained peace and quiet under all conditions, but usually some measure of social security if not prosperity. Let us note, however, that such religious bodies have never affected the generality of mankind. They have no solution for our most urgent problems.

A MORE COMPLETE VIEW

All these movements are striving for a more complete and comprehensive view of God and His relation to humanity, but no one of them is perfect enough to command allegiance of all the rest and it seems highly improbable that they will ever unite on some common faith. Were it within the power of man to transmute such divergent beliefs into one common faith, it would have been accomplished a long time ago. The world is searching as never before, but it is a mature and skeptical world and so it asks of every movement, “If this be the true approach to religion, what are the results? If there is one true God, where is our unity? Can a modern scientific age believe in a multiplicity of Gods?”

The religion that will command the respect of the world today must be universal. Its scope must be comprehensive, its precepts pure, its standards sublime, and its claims reasonable. Moreover, it must have laws upon which a new civilization can be founded. But all this is not sufficient. There must be an institution to perpetuate its ideals and influence. No movement in the past has been powerful enough to recreate society without an efficient organization. Let us remember that it was not the Asiatic churches of Jerusalem, Antioch and Alexandria that furthered the Cause of Christianity but the church at Rome with its superior power to organize.

In most of these concepts of God we see that which very closely resembles the reality of religion, but is it not possible that we are holding to counterfeit or imitation? Should not this reality of religion unite us? In a sense the gods which the minds of men create are not as real as idols of stone and wood—the latter, at least, have a form of existence.

When we speak of imitations in religion, we ordinarily have in mind such things as dialectic acuteness, ritual, symbolism or imagery, but no intelligent person is naive enough to hold that these things are identical with the reality of religion. There must be some consciousness of a great reality, some inner confirmation, intellectual or spiritual. Imitation, in religion, as imitation in anything else, is something that closely resembles the real. A certain philosophy of life may satisfy the longing for an ideal of transcendent value; it may even turn man to a nobler life. A definite technique of contemplation or meditation may assist greatly in freeing man of his lower desire nature—it may give him assurance, peace and happiness, it may make a superman of him and endow him with power. The things that engender religious feeling and at the same time produce some practical results, are the real imitations. It is the imitation in religion that so often [Page 142] prevents men of superior character from making a search for the reality of religion.

From the pragmatic viewpoint it may make little difference whether man follows an imitation or the real, but the apparent worth of the inferior glass does not change it into the precious stone. The reality of religion is still the one unifying force in the world. A plurality of gods and religious beliefs can lead, in the end, only to diversity. Every extant religion today believes that it is the one true religion.

GOD REVEALED

As we study the writings of Bahá’u’lláh, who revealed for humanity not just another religion to add to the existing confusion but rather a world Faith, we realize once again the vast difference between a Divine Revelation and the feeble attempts of man struggling alone, as it were, to discover the true goal of life.

Bahá’u’lláh repeatedly, and in unequivocal language, makes it clear that the Infinite God cannot be comprehended by man. Such a doctrine is comprehensible to a scientific age. If the phenomenal world is still a mystery which is beyond the investigation of man, it is reasonable to assume that an Omnipotent God cannot be studied and observed as we would study and observe anything else, that is, God cannot be known by His Works. “Every attempt which, from the beginning that hath no beginning, hath been made to visualize and know God is limited by the exigencies of His own creation—a creation which He, through the operation of His own Will and for the purposes of none other but His own Self, hath called into being. Immeasurably exalted is He above the strivings of human mind to grasp His Essence, or of human tongue to describe His mystery. No tie of direct intercourse can ever bind Him to the things He hath created, nor can the most abstruse and most remote allusions of His creatures do justice to His being.”

Finally, Bahá’u’lláh assures us that man’s spiritual and material progress is dependent upon the Divine Spirit which animates the world at the appearance of every Revelator. The history of every great prophetic Revelation, such as Christianity and Islam, bears testimony to this fact.

Bahá’u’lláh, in refuting the popular notion that Divine Revelation has ceased, says, “Can any one of sane mind ever seriously imagine that, in view of certain words the meaning of which he cannot comprehend, the portal of God’s infinite guidance can ever be closed in the face of man? Can he ever conceive for these Divine Luminaries, these resplendent Lights either a beginning or an end? What outpouring flood can compare with the stream of His all-embracing grace, and what blessing can excel the evidence of so great and pervasive a mercy? There can be no doubt whatever that if for one moment the tide of His mercy and grace were to be withheld from the world, it would completely perish.”

[Page 143]

THE VANISHING AMERICAN

PASUPULETI GOPALA KRISHNAYYA

SINCE his advent in North America the European has met scores of tribes of people whom he called “Indians.” He has fought with them, lived with them and yet he has never known them. Long association, even intermarriage, has failed to bring natural understanding. Unable to think alike the two races have remained distinctly apart, and yet each has influenced the other. Both recognize the bewildering barrier that separates them. B0th understand that because of it the offspring of miscegenation are, at birth, expatriated from either. Mixed bloods, being neither red nor white, have bridged no difference between the races; on the contrary, they have seemed to emphasize them. Indeed there has been so little inter-breeding between the races that the theory of final assimilation seems to me absurd. The red race in North America, leaving a little of its blood to remind a few succeeding generations of white men that it once existed, will pass; in reality it has already passed. And what do we know about it? Almost nothing.

Every imaginable trait has been ascribed to the Red Indian. Many a truth concerning his customs, traditions and religious beliefs have been recorded; and not once has he protested. The old time Red Indian was, to the end, profoundly indifferent to the white man’s estimate of him. He was a poor teacher, a difficult man to know. The young Red Indians know next to nothing about their people, their ancient customs, or traditions, and now it is too late to learn. The change from a normal to an uncertain and unnatural existence came so suddenly to the Red Indian that his customs and traditions could not flourish and they all but perished with the bison in the early eighties. One is startled that so brief a time could wipe away traditions ages old, and after contemplation wonders how much truth we know of ancient peoples.

His early experiences with the white men may have for ever estranged the Red Indian, since here, for the most part, the white man’s record is bad. Anyway the Red Indian never had a fair opportunity to judge the white race justly. His estimate of it was formed by his association with white men he knew best, and unfortunately most of these were far from being fair representatives. Many of them were lawless men who had been banished from white society. Even in his dealing with the government of the United States he was sometimes cheated, and nearly always the treaties which he signed in [Page 144] good faith were broken by whites whose violations were upheld by the Government itself, so that long ago the Red Indian became distrustful of all white men.

The Red Indians were never saints. On the contrary they have many times qualified as nearly perfect devils. Their misdeeds have been told and retold ever since they first began to resent the white man’s invasion of their land. But there is really another picture which has not been told. The Red Indian has a finer side. Any alleged wrongs he perpetuated are due to the fact that he was like an animal trapped and cornered. Here was the white man with his gun trying to deprive him of his land and possessions and the only weapon he had was the bow and arrow. The Red Indian, to his eternal credit, put up an heroic fight with such a handicap and let it be said that in the circumstances, he did behave better than his Christian invokers. With the provocation he had, his behavior has been intensely humane.

The Red Indian is a tolerant man, a believer in one God. He has never been known to quarrel with his fellows, or with anybody else, over religion. He never manufactured an intoxicating beverage. He is not a stoic, but a natural man, who loves a joke. With friends his laugh is deep and hearty, and easily provoked. He is a thorough sportsman, the best of losers in games of chance, even in a battle to the death. He is not the petty thief that some interested people would like us to believe; and he is an individualist in all things whatsoever. He is a courteous being, a polite man, in his own lodge a gracious host. He believes in miracles (so do his conquerors if they really believe in their Bible) and his mind is as simple as a child’s. He is superstitious to a degree that is beyond a white man’s understanding, and he is deeply religious. And here are his conquerors bewildered.

The old Red Indian will not discuss his religion. Any tribesman who is easily led to speak of it has ceased to be a Red Indian. The old Red Indian will not often utter the name of his God aloud, and if you, in his presence, pronounce it you will feel his reverence. Instantly there will be silence, and the Red Indian’s attitude will have changed.

The folk-tales of these people have interested me very much. They are as truly legends as those of the Norsemen, the Greeks, and the Hindus, but instead of representing man’s combats with the elements as typified by the gods, they deal chiefly with the eccentricities of nature which they attribute to a strange character known among the tribes by various names, such as, Nahpee, Nulach-kin-nah, Esaccawata, Old-man, or Old-man-coyote, to whom the Almighty entrusted much of the work of creation. This strange character is always fickle, frequently fiendish, often foolish, and, on the contrary, sometimes almost sublime. In this you will recognize a wise provision, since it is evident that in his finding fault with created things, like the elements which sometimes tortured, the old Red Indian could not blaspheme against his God for whom he holds the greatest reverence. Speak of Nahpee [Page 145] or Esaccawata, Old-man, or Old-man-coyote, by whatever name he is known, and every old Red Indian will laugh merrily. They hold him in no reverence. But the pronouncement of the name of the Almighty is quite another matter. No man is more deeply religious than the old Red Indian; and no man ever loved children more. Knight-errantry, so highly respected in mediaeval times, flourished among the plains Red Indians of North America long before and long after it was known in Europe. Individual desire for fame was not alone responsible for the practice of “coupcounting” —the striking of an enemy with a bow, or cupstick, while he was armed and fighting, without otherwise injuring him, etc. Tribal custom forcefully encouraged this to the end that young men might be brave, and through them the tribe maintain itself against the enemies. A young man could not marry until he had counted “coup,” or had reached the age of twenty-five years. Even here custom made distinction in favor of valor. The young man who married at twenty-five, or after, and had not counted “coup,” could not “paint his woman’s face.” She was obliged by tribal custom to ride with the women companions whose painted faces constantly reminded her, and the rest of the world, that their husbands were brave warriors who had distinguished themselves in battle. Any woman, white or red, would feel this, and inspire her husband to count “coup,” and “paint her face.” Besides the face-painting, a woman whose husband has counted “coup,” was privileged to ride her husband’s best warhorse, and to carry his lance and shield whenever the village moved; and it was always moving.

There were, among all the tribes of the North-western plains, clans and secret societies. These, especially the latter, possessed great influence over their members, so much that even to this day I believe them in a measure responsible for the lack of unity that sometimes presents itself in the administration of tribal affairs. The secret societies, one must remember, were apart from the clans. A man or woman was born to a clan, the mother’s clan, always. When a man married he was obliged by tribal law to take a woman from another clan. He could not marry within his own clan. The resulting children belonged at birth to the clan of their mother; a mother’s blood determined both family and tribal relationship. The secret societies elected their own members upon petition. There were the Mad-dogs, the Back-fats, the Foxes, the War-clubs, and others, each tribe having different names for its secret societies and clans. I know of but one secret society that confined its membership to a certain class. This was the Fighting-bulls of the Crows. Its membership was confined to aged and respected warriors.

Today it is difficult for one to imagine a Red Indian without a few feathers. On Red Indian men, women and children, artists insist upon painting feathers, so that we naturally supposed all Red Indians wear eagle feathers. And, today, they may wear them; but this was not so when Red Indians were real. The eagle feather was not worn for adornment. It was [Page 146] a mark of distinction, and might be worn only by men who had counted “coup” (excepting the war-bonnet, which is a different thing than a single feather).

Nowadays, half the tribesmen, off their reservations, are “chiefs,” and every tribal flapper is a “princess.” This is movie material, counterfeit as the cowgirl. I have never known a truly hereditary chief; and there never was a Red Indian “princess.” The old Red Indian chief was too wise to foster a belief in hereditary leadership, and he never did. A man became chief of a Red Indian tribe by prowess, and held his place by demonstrated ability. When he died, or was superseded, his son, if he possessed ability, stood a little better chance to succeed as a chief than any other young man of the tribe. I have known a son to succeed his father as chief, but neither blood nor breeding had anything to do with his selection. Instead of a Red Indian chief being the wealthiest man of a tribe, he is usually one of the poorest. The reason for his poverty is that he continually helps his tribesmen out of his store. If a man has no horse he goes to his chief to get one, that is, if he is unable to steal one from an enemy; and those days have gone. Last winter old White-quiver, a blackfoot warrior, prefaced a story he told me with these words: “Long ago, when I first knew you, and it was honest to steal horses.”

The plains Red Indian is a great believer in dreams. He will starve and torture himself in preparation for his hoped for “medicine-dream,” and then repair to some difficult spot, usually a high mountain peak where, alone, without food or water, he will spend four days and nights, if necessary, dreaming and appealing to “helpers.” His condition, both physical and mental, is necessarily unbalanced by weakness brought on through abstinence from food, taking enervating sweat-baths, and otherwise courting fatigue. Some go even further, and deeply wound their bodies so that they may be severely weakened by loss of blood. Their resulting dreams are weird, sometimes terrifying, though often strangely prophetic of the future. In a “medicine-dream” a bird, some animal, or a “person” appears and offers help to the troubled dreamer. Sometimes, however, these apparitions only proffer advice, or teach lessons by parables which are later interpreted in council by the tribe’s “wise-ones,” usually known as “medicine-men.” Thereafter, or until he has a greater dream, which seldom happens, the animal, or bird that appeared to him in his dream, is the dreamer’s “medicine.” This term, “medicine,” is altogether wrong, and yet it is with us to remain. “Medicine” is not particularly curative; it is more nearly protective in its qualities. It is a talisman, or charm, a lucky-piece that no old Red Indian will forgo. His “medicine” is of immense importance to an old Red Indian. He implicitly believes that the superlative powers of the animal or bird that appeared to him in his medicine-dream are his own to command in time of need.

I have used the term “person” here, and my readers will need some explanation. Old Red Indians, recounting their medicine-dreams which they [Page 147] very seldom do, or in repeating folk-tales, often use this term. A “person,” as used here, is a sort of apparition in human form, ghostly and capable of changing itself into an animal that is equally eerie. Old Red Indians have told me that a “person” as used here is one who lived “long ago without fire.”

White men have tried in vain to establish some language that might be spoken by all nations. They go on fighting and trading in many different tongues; but this is not so with the plains Red Indians. There are many tribes of the plains, each inheriting hatreds for the others that are ages old; yet they have a common language. By comprehensive signs these tribesmen can converse, even at a distance, without uttering a sound. They can clearly express themselves under all circumstances, excepting in darkness, or when they are unable to see each other. Nobody knows when the sign-language came into being. It was in general use among the tribes of the plains when white men first met them there, and it has continued down to this day. It was never known far west of the Rocky Mountains, and perhaps not east of the Mississippi River.

Perhaps the true origin of the North American Red Indian is for ever hidden by centuries of transmutation. Who is he? From where did he come to North America? And how? He does not attempt to answer these questions himself, believing that his people have always been here. White men answer them quite readily, and yet they are but guessing. There are similarities of features, of customs, and sometimes even of folk-tales, that seem to point to definite directions, but in trying to follow them we end in tangling inconsistencies. A year or so ago I was in the Crow country, and met Plain-feather, the old warrior. I told him that there were quite a few similarities between the folk-lore of the Red Indians and the Hindus. He was greatly impressed, as I knew he would be. After listening to this he stood for a time looking intently at the far horizon, his strong face a study, his eyes in a dream. Then he said softly, more to himself than to me: “These things are beyond us.” They are, indeed.

Reprinted from The Modern Review, Calcutta.

[Page 148]

THE ONENESS OF RELIGION

DORIS McKAY

VI.

MANKIND IS ONE

THE Messengers of God in the younger stages of the human race threw the emphasis of Their teachings toward the doctrine of the oneness of God rather than the oneness of humanity. That came first as a necessary prelude to the later evolution of religious principle which we witness today in the universal teachings of Bahá’u’lláh.

The earlier Prophets came to peoples who had a limited experience with dimension. Those who were hosts to the Prophets knew only what they had learned in the adventures of migration or trade—by creeping caravan travel across deserts or over steep, rocky mountains; excursions on horse, camel, or donkey back, or in little boats on seas. Contact with alien races was perilous when all had an instilled remembrance of tribal rivalries with existence itself at stake. The genius of the tribal spirit ruled them —and this had its center in the tribal, or city, or racial gods. Divided as yet in their very worship, by what words could they have been called to a cosmic comprehension of mankind, or to the firing of their imagination to a universal love? The language of oneness was “Greek” to their provincialism!

No, there were two preliminary lessons for the Prophets to teach, first, man must be made aware of the One Supreme God, then, of himself and the means for his best development. The teachings and influence of the Prophets especially directed to these primary essentials gradually conditioned the earlier cultures and laid the foundations for our present society with its social and religious institutions. It was in accordance with the requirements of the times that this should have been so.

The earlier Prophets, however, taught from a knowledge that mankind is one spiritual brotherhood: those who see with the eye of God must regard all humanity, the black, the white, the yellow, and those of different Faiths, as a single created unit. One and all they have left within their Scriptures the root-precepts of the great modern ideal of Oneness. Whoever taught the Fatherhood of God, the Divine Creative Spirit, taught, by implication, a world-brotherhood of man.

In the Baghavad-Gita, Krishna, embodying the idea of the Fatherhood of God, says to Arjuna: “Remember, O Prince, that even those who worship other gods, worship Me, though they realize it not.”

In the same dialogue He declares: [Page 149] “I see My children of the world—all living beings—with an equal eye and without partiality. There is none more dear to Me than another. . . .”

This was not remembered. For the revitalizing of this very principle of the equality of man before God, Buddha uttered the protest of His teachings in the sixth century before Christ. Into His caste-ridden society He introduced a forgotten note of celestial harmony:

“The whole length and breadth of the wide world is pervaded by the radiant thoughts of a Mind all-embracing, vast, and boundless, in which dwells not hate or ill-will.

“With radiant thoughts of love, of compassion, of sympathy and poise, His Mind pervades each of the world’s four quarters, above, below, across, everywhere.”

“Jehovah looketh from Heaven;

He beholdeth all the sons of men;

From the place of His habitation

He looketh forth

Upon all the inhabitants of the earth,

He that fashioneth the hearts

of them all,

That considereth all their work.”

The poetry of the Psalmist expresses the quality of Oneness that is apparent among the tenets of Judaism. One or two centuries before the appearance of Buddha in India, Isaiah, and later Jeremiah (called “the prophets of social justice” rose to fame. Through the thunder and din of their apocalyptic utterances there is a sense of “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts, His majestic splendour fills the whole earth.” “Adore the Eternal,” said the Voice of prophecy to Isaiah, “celebrate His Name, tell the nations all He has done, record His mighty fame, chant the Eternal’s praise, His glorious feats; let the whole world know of it!”

“These men and their disciples,” say two contemporary Jewish writers, “brought into the religion of Israel the important element of universality. If God is One, then He is the God of the entire universe. If He is One, then He is the father of all men, all are His children. The children of God should therefore love one another as brothers.” Thus we find a repetition of our theme.

The Voice of Jehovah said, “It is too light a thing that thou shouldst be My servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the preserved of Israel; I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles that thou mayest be My salvation unto the end of the earth.” The disciples of Christ were convinced that Jehovah apostrophized —through these and other words of Isaiah—the spirit of Revelation that was to appear in the form of the Saviour, Jesus. This cut so counter to the practices of the orthodox and devout, that the disciples had to be brought face to face with a situation for the idea to take hold of them. When it came they recognized in it a new and subtle definition of their Faith. The story as it has come down to us is as follows:

Within two days, each of two men had a vision. The first came to Cornelius, a God-fearing and devout Gentile in the city of Caesarea. An angel appeared to him and said, “Cornelius, thy prayers and thine alms have gone up for a memorial unto God. And now send men to Joppa and fetch one [Page 150] Simon, who is surnamed Peter: he lodgeth with one Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the seaside.”

Late in the afternoon of the following day while Peter was praying on his roof in Joppa a vision came to him. He saw a great container filled with all sorts of food that the Jews had been trained to believe unclean. The Voice of God commanded him to eat of it. Peter protested: “Not so Lord, I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” But the Voice came to him again, and still again, saying:

“What God hath cleansed, make ye not common.”

While Peter mused on this strange vision the Spirit again spoke to him, “Behold, men seek ye. Arise and get thee down and go with them nothing doubting: for I have sent them.”

The three men from Cornelius were waiting for him. He lodged them that night and the next day he and the Christian brethren went back with them to Caesarea.

Peter observed the large, eager, gathering of Gentiles and spoke frankly, “Ye know that it is an unlawful thing for a Jew to keep company or come unto one of another nation, but God hath shewed me that I should not call any man common or unclean. Therefore came I unto you without gainsaying as soon as I was sent for. I ask, therefore, for what intent ye hath sent for me?”

Cornelius repeated the instructions of “the man in bright raiment” who had appeared to him. “Now therefore,” he concluded, “we are all here present before God, to hear all things that are commanded of God.”

“Of a truth,” said Peter, “I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: but in every nation he that feareth Him and worketh righteousness is accepted of Him.” And Peter gave Cornelius and his friends the Christian Message.

In the brief hours since his vision on the housetop Peter had ceased merely to theorize on the parting words of his Lord, Jesus: “Go ye therefore and teach all nations . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.”

There stood Peter in the midst of people whom, tradition-bound as he was, he had avoided all his life. Now, he had shared his precious knowledge of the Messiah with them; handed out the very bread of heaven that, they too, the despised, might eat. The disciples, circumcised and pure, saw the power of the Holy Spirit descend upon these outsiders: heard them “speak the tongues, and magnify God.” It was a truly great occasion, probably the most significant of all that remarkable record we know as the “Acts of the Apostles.” Notably, the disciples were moved by these circumstances to a heart acceptance of the fact that Christianity was a world religion.

“He is the Lord of the East, and of the West,” said Muhammad, “there is no God but He.” “Mankind was of one Faith,” He said, on another occasion, “and God sent prophets bearing good tidings.”

In order to ingrain the principle of brotherhood into the fabric of His new Faith Muhammad perpetuated the camaraderie of Pilgrimage to the historic shrines. The Pilgrimage was [Page 151] the emblem of the journey of life, the common destiny. Before Allah all Muslims were brothers without distinction of race, rank, or wealth. It has been said “In a mosque a beggar and a king may stand at prayer in the same row without offence.”

Of practical importance was the principle of Oneness stripped of its poetry and applied to the temporal state of which Muhammad was the chief magistrate. His entrance into the city-state of Medina was a signal for the welding together of the conflicting races and clans that made up that community. Muhammad has been called by a recent authority, “a statesman of unrivaled powers, who in an age of hopeless disintegration set Himself to the task of reconstructing a State, commonwealth, society, upon the basis of universal humanity.” In Muhammad’s Medina Speeches, which constitute about a third of the Qur’án, He introduces courts of justice, provides for the equality of men and women, makes laws regulating the distribution and control of property. His house was the court of appeal for the whole body of Muslims, to which they came with their domestic, social, political and religious problems. In the equity of His pronouncements He injected the principle of Oneness into the very life stream of His people. Instead of a poetic ideal, or a mere religious concept, the Oneness of Mankind became the foundation of society itself.

The evolution of the idea of Oneness is noteworthy. In the source religions of India it was a mystical conception coincident with the worship of Brahma: its strength was to be dissipated by pantheistic reversions. In Judaism it was an attack by the prophets upon the selfishness of the rulers, and an ideal to be attained at some future consummation of events. In the time of the Apostles this teaching made all people “chosen,” and in so doing widened the scope of the Christian institution to embrace all of the world that would respond to its call. It became thus a vehicle for a cultural expansion that united approximately one-fifth of the world in a common Faith. Six hundred and thirty years later, in Arabia, it permeated a State —temporarily. But the spirit of Oneness still awaited a body through which it could fully function. The time had not yet arrived.

Suddenly, in the last century, a new fluidity released by electricity and steam caused static humanity to flow. Social life began to undergo an unprecedented change. Commerce and travel became tremendously accelerated. Nations extended into empires. The factory system spread its meshes in the old and new world. The social sciences—economics, psychology, sociology —began to file their data. The body of the new civilization was thus created through the growth of invention, signs of a mind were also evident, but the spirit of the New Age was still to be interpreted for the western world where this material metamorphosis had occurred. It lies waiting and complete in the teachings of the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh, the cycle of Whose Teachings began in 1844. Without the humanizing spirit of those teachings the Mechanical Age is a soulless robot blundering on toward a crash.

[Page 152] Oneness emerges in this day as a universal Law for the drawing together of the nations in a common polity. All the powers and implications of its dynamic are released. “The Principles of His Holiness Bahá’u’lláh,” said ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, “like unto the Spirit shall penetrate the dead body of the world, and the Love of God like unto an artery, shall beat through the heart of the five continents. . . . Every age requires a central impetus or movement. . . . What is the spirit of this age? It is the establishment of Universal Peace, the establishment of the knowledge that humanity is one family. . . .

“It is the hour of unity of the sons of men and of the drawing together of all races and classes.”

---

THE WITNESS

ELSIE PATTERSON CRANMER

“Witness! What is it thou sees’t?”

And he was dumb,

The man who came to question with his Lord

The Lord Bahá’u’lláh. And so he lay

Blinded by strangeness of the vision seen

Pierced through and through as by some terrible sword.

Yet was he made aware of some supreme

Ineffable sweetness mixed with his dark pain.

He thought he heard a music far away

Borne on the delicate sighing of the wind,

And through the caverns of his darkened soul

Surged sudden waters of a singing sea,

Words blossomed in the dark, and great suns sang.

And through the shuttered heaven of his mind

The multitudinous constellations swung.

He was aware of a vast moving throng,

Whose limbs were of a light and delicate texture,

[Page 153]

Whose robes were webs of woven trembling gold,

Translucent, with the coolness of the moon.

His heart grew light and laughing, and he heard

His laughter echoing through the splendid spheres,

For there was One he knew—and yet he knew not

Moving in amber amethystine light

Bright, brave and beautiful. Showers of glad gold

Poured from his face, his limbs, his radiate robes,

Points of bright fire quivered upon his hands

And streamed upon the worlds. A Being majestical

Whose sapphire wings burned in the bright rich air.

And the man lay unconscious, conscious, and he sighed

And clasped his hands in sharp high ecstasy,

Essenced with strange incomparable bliss.

But what he heard can not be lutanied,

And what he saw can never serve a scribe,

Lest hearts should die of too great misery,

Lest hearts should break with too wild happiness.

“Witness! What is it thou sees’t?”

Still, no word?

Still, sleepest thou?

Slowly the man uprose,

Fell to his knees, faint, crouched and quivering . . .

There came a flood of hot torrential rains,

“Lord, I believe.”

“Go thou and tell the world.”

[Page 154]

ISLAM

ALI-KULI KHAN

X.

THE great Hawazin tribe which occupied the hills in the southeastern district of Mecca, reached far beyond At-Ta’if. The Beni-Thakif which inhabited At-Ta’if were descendants of that tribe. They all joined forces to drive Muhammad away from Mecca.

Muhammad therefore cut short His stay at Mecca. He left Mo’athebn Jabal in Mecca to instruct the inhabitants in the principles of Islam, and advanced toward Honein at the head of a force of 12,000 men of which 2,000 were from Koreish.

Beni Hawazin, also advanced upon Honein, and in February 1, AD. 630, the Battle of Honein was fought.

Muhammad’s army were surprised and driven back; but they eventually rallied. Though the nature of the ground and the impetuosity of the Bedawi foe made the issue for some time doubtful, the Prophet from an eminence urged His men on, with the result that the foe was beaten back. The enemy fled; the rout was complete, and the day won! The spoil included 24,000 camels, 40,000 sheep and goats, and 4,000 ounces of silver, and 4,000 prisoners.

The Battle of Honein is immortalized in the Sura IX, wherein “The Invisible Hosts” are mentioned as having assisted the forces of Islam.

Then siege was laid to At-Ta’if which was too strong to be subdued at the time. After achieving minor victories over the surrounding tribes, it was considered wise to raise the siege.

A woman among the captives told the soldiers that she was the Prophet’s foster sister and was taken into His presence. Muhammad received her with affection, and as she preferred to remain with her own tribe, He dismissed her with a handsome present. This incident will remind us that the Prophet’s early childhood has been spent in the desert with the tribes, and it was there, where He had found the foster sister referred to.

Muhammad showered kindness upon all His captives and his example was followed by His forces. He also gave generous gifts to His generals, both from Mecca and Medina, giving as many as one hundred camels to each. The recipients included Abu Sufyan and his two sons, Yazid and Mo’awiya.

Malik, chief of the Howazin tribe, was won over to Islam. Muhammad performed the “Lesser Pilgrimage,” appointed A’tab as governor of Mecca, and returned to Medina. Upon His return to Medina, Muhammad [Page 155] sent letters to the chiefs of Al-Bahrein, Oman, and the Yemen.

DEATH OF IBRAHIM

Muhammad’s daughter Zeinab died in the ninth year of the Hijra. This was a result of the ill-treatment she had suffered from the Meccans when migrating to Medina. So had died Um-Kulthum, married to Othman after the death of his wife, Rokiyeh. Fatima was now the only daughter living.

In the eighth year of the Hijra, Mary, the Prophet’s Coptic Wife, gave birth to a son. He was named Ibrahim. This brought great joy and solace to the father who daily called for the son and kissed him fondly. When, however, a little over a year old, the child died, to his father’s great grief, on the same day occurred an eclipse of the sun. The people spoke of it as a sign of tribute to the child’s death. But Muhammad rejected the idea, with the words:— “The sun and the moon are amongst the signs appointed by the Lord. They are not eclipsed in the death of anyone. When you see an eclipse, engage in prayer until it passes away.”

THE YEAR OF DEPUTATIONS

In the early months of the tenth year of the Hijra, the Prophet received embassies in Medina. These were from distant lands, Yemen, Oman, El Batrein, etc.

His conquest of Mecca had established His supremacy in Arabia and opened a new era in Islam. His possession of the Holy City likewise increased His spiritual power. There remained but one religion in Arabia, and that was Islam.

Islam enjoined belief in the one God and submission to His Prophet. Also the payment of tithes, which on one hand would purify the believers’ assets, and on the other furnish funds for charity and the upkeep of the growing empire. Tithes in Islam are called (1) Zakat, i.e., “purification” and (2) Sadakat, i.e., “righteousness.” The tribute from unbelievers was called “Kharaj,” or “Jizya.”

Several deputations were sent by Muhammad to collect the taxes, some of whom at first encountered great opposition. But before long, it became an established duty which all recognized and obeyed.

Ali at the head of one hundred men was sent to destroy the idol temple of Beni Tai, a tribe leaning toward both Christianity and idolatry. He performed his mission effectively. Hatim of Tai is the famous chieftain reputed amongst Arabs for his generosity. Hatim’s son, Adi, was converted to Islam.

About the same time, the poet Ka’b accepted Islam. He was the one who composed the “Poem of the Mantle.” When he came to this verse, “Verily, the Prophet is a light to illuminate the world, a naked sword from out of the armory of God,” Muhammad as an expression of His admiration and delight, threw His mantle upon the poet. The precious gift later passed into the hands of the caliphs, and as the “Khirka Sharifa” (i.e. the blessed mantle) remained at Bagdad until the sack of that city by the Tartars, and it is now exhibited at Constantinople as the sacred relic of the [Page 156] Prophet.

The Courtyard of Muhammad’s mosque entertained many delegations from all Arabia, Syria, even from the outskirts of Persia. More important business was transacted in that mosque than in any imperial court in those days.

Thus the ninth year of the Hijra is called the “year of deputations.”

THE LAST UNDERTAKING

In the second half of the ninth year of the Hijra (October, 630 to April, 631 A.D.), disaffected tribes, Roman feudatories, gathered on the Syrian border. Muhammad projected a counter-expedition, and thus met the danger with the largest force available. The Moslems showed great zeal in joining the expedition, and in contributing supplies and equipment.

The army was 30,000 strong, of which 10,000 were cavalry. When they reached Tebuk, the rumor of invasion from the north had faded away, and there was nothing to do but to receive the adhesion of Jewish and Christian tribes and conclude a treaty with John, the Christian prince of Ayla.

At the same time, various Jewish deputations came with a tender of submission and the payment of the usual tribute.

After remaining at Tabuk for twenty days, and concluding the business referred to, Muhammad returned to Medina.

Meanwhile, Khalid, who had been on several minor expeditions across the desert, with 420 horses, surprised Okeidir, the Christian chief of Duma, by his rapid march and took him prisoner. He also took the city which was ransomed at 2,000 camels, 800 sheep, 400 suits of mail and quantities of similar objects. The Christian chief embraced Islam and was admitted to the terms of a favored ally.

Abdullah ibn Obei, leader of the “Disaffected Party” died. Muhammad had dealt with him with tenderness. The only rupture with him was when Abdullah took part with his Jewish confederates against the Prophet. With Abdullah died also the disaffected ones, as they all now became firm Moslems and at last the Prophet’s power became fully consolidated in Medina.

The campaign to Tebuk was the last undertaking during the lifetime of the Prophet. The Moslems thought that, now, all was well and even the Greeks had retired, leaving them alone in their desert home. Thus, they decided to sell their arms, as they imagined that “wars for religion now are ended.” Muhammad, with His prophetic vision saw differently, and forbade the sale of arms, saying:— “There shall not cease from the midst of my people a party engaged in fighting for the truth, until Antichrist appear.”

But warfare for faith was recognized only as a defensive measure, and not a means for the promotion of faith. For provision was made for the maintenance of the students and teachers of religion, as noted in Sura IX, V. 123.

DESTRUCTION OF IDOLS

We recall that the siege of At-Ta’if was raised ten months before. Its people worshipped idols, and continued [Page 157] in sullen isolation. Orwa, who had been about during the siege, finding that the surrounding tribes, except his own, had become Moslems, went to Medina to give his submission to Islam. Muhammad warned him that his tribe might put him to death for this act. He, however, retired to At-Ta’if, and invited people to join him in the faith. He was surrounded and mortally wounded with arrows. With his dying breath, he blessed God and begged to be buried by the side of the Moslems who had fallen at Honein.

At-Ta’if found itself in great extremities, and sent Al-Moghira (nephew of the martyr, Orwa) with a deputation of six chiefs and twenty followers to Muhammad offering to surrender, if the Prophet would offer them respite for three years before destroying their great idol, the Al’lat. They were refused respite, even for two years, one year, six months—Muhammad’s firm reply refused the grace of even one month, as Islam and the idol could not co-exist. The idol must fall without a single day’s delay. They then asked to be allowed to dispense with prayer. When they were told that “without prayer, religion were naught,” they said: “We shall perform it, though it be a degradation.”

Abu Sufyan and Al-Moghira, friends of the tribe, destroyed the idol Al’lat, and this last stronghold against the authority of Muhammad was quelled.

In the ninth year of the Hijra, Muhammad stayed away from the yearly Pilgrimage, but Abu-Bekr was sent at the head of three hundred men to perform the pilgrimage of the Ka’ba. The Discharge, or Release, which forbade idolators to visit the Temple, was also announced in that year. The Sura IX, verse I, and verse 28 is related to this discharge, which also declares unbelievers to be unclean, and thus not permitted to enter the Holy Temple after that year.

The vast concourse who listened peacefully to Ali departed to their homes; and thus the Prophet’s system so far as concerned the idolatrous tribes and races was completed, and the annihilation of idolatry became now the declared mission of Islam, which was to be henceforth, the Nation’s Faith. Here a broad distinction was drawn between the treatment of the Jews and Christians and that of the heathen. The latter were not tolerated, even on submission, and must be fought, but the Jews and Christians were treated with tolerance, and the payment of tribute was a contribution to the expenses of the State, and not a sign of abasement.

Similar toleration was extended to the Sabians (see Suras II, 59, V. 73) which are the so-called “Christians of St. John,” and the Mandaeans of the Qur’án. The name “Sabians” is from an Aramaic root, meaning “to baptize,” as they performed repeated lustrations, but this term should not be confused with “Sabaean,” which is derived from Saba (Sheba or the Yemen) which is applied to the most ancient Faith, later corrupted into the worship of stars and elements of nature; and which, when in a state of purity, taught the oneness of God and was the Faith of Abraham.

(To be continued)

[Page 158]

PRISONER OF WAR 31163

Book Review

HELEN CAMPBELL

“CHRIST for individual security. Christ for social security. Christ for national security. Christ for international security. Christ for the kind of life among men that can heal and abide.” Such are the closing words of Bedros Kurysharian’s “War Journal”, and they are also the keynote of the book “Prisoner of War 31163.”

The account is written by the Reverend Ernest Pye under whom Bedros Sharian studied at Anatolia College in Marsovan, near the Black Sea. Mr. Pye obtained most of the material for the book from Sharian’s “Journal” which was written on scraps of paper in the field. There are only scattered quotations from the “Journal” itself. One wishes there were more, though Mr. Pye says that he follows closely the thread of the diaries. The original “Journal”, as well as other personal belongings, Sharian was forced to sacrifice the night he escaped from the Turkish army. The present “Journal”, he says, is a faithful reproduction of the lost journal, but lacks the vividness of the one he wrote on the field of battle. In the quotations given the reader is struck with the impersonal way in which Sharian writes of himself. He seldom uses the first person, choosing rather to say, “Bedros was shivering from cold”, or “It was a near joy to the lad to be with the English Tommies chasing the Turks from the Holy Land.”

Sharian was born in Hadjin in eastern Asia Minor. He was brought up in an orphanage established in Hadjin by Miss Maria Garber and Miss Rose Lambert, Mennonite missionaries from the United States. Here he was treated with the greatest kindness and understanding and trained to live according to the teachings of Christ. Sharian writes in his diary: “How great a thing it is to make happy the unfortunate ones! The American youth have the opportunity and privilege of making others happy and making the world a better place to live in. Bedros hopes that the American youth in particular, and the American people in general, will feel more deeply than ever their responsibility toward the striving world. “It will be an unpardonable sin for this great nation to ignore her duty and lie down on the job. If this becomes true, then soon will she be deprived of her glory and a worthier nation will be [Page 159] blessed by it.” Of the missionaries he writes: “Blessed are all true missionaries. They recognize the real human values; they possess the greatest vision of life; they are great personalities who deserve the highest honor and respect; they are the human bridges over which the races of earth pass to meet each other; they are the true brothers and sisters to the humblest and the poorest; they are the lovers of humanity. The American youth has the privilege of becoming members of this company. ‘Give me not, Lord, gold or silver, but give me a true missionary spirit—a spirit of self-denial and service’—such is Bedros’ constant prayer.”

Christian Bedros, as the boy was called, was educated by the Mennonite missionaries in the Boys’ High School in Hadjin and in St. Paul’s Institute at Tarsus. Here he became teacher and interpreter for the newly arrived missionaries. In 1911, he went to Anatolia College to prepare for the ministry. At the opening of the World War he was forced into the Turkish army. Bedros asked to be placed in a noncombatant post and was assigned to the Sixteenth Division as a stretcher-bearer. “From time to time,” writes Mr. Pye, “some Turkish soldiers confessed that the conduct of Bedros was according to the Mohammedan faith and that he could be considered the best of Mohammedans if he would but profess the faith. Many soldiers and officers began to respect him for his truthfulness, soundness and purity.”

It was Bedros’ one hope to be captured by the British for he had no desire to fight on the side of the Turks, long the oppressors of the Armenians. He took part in the Dardannelles campaign. At first he could not bear the frightful scenes of slaughter. He felt that Christianity was dead to allow such a war. Bedros passed unharmed through the nine months of that terrible campaign. One of the happiest experiences at that time was that of praying with two other Armenian boys while the guns were roaring.

In 1919, the Sixteenth Division was on the Syrian front. The Turkish morale was low. Every day Turkish soldiers were deserting because they preferred to be taken prisoners rather than endure the privations of their army. Bedros wrote in his “Journal” at this time: “Bedros who was a lover of the Bible, and who long had been interested in the Bible lands now to his great joy had been spared by the enemy in the Dardannelles campaign and from disease in Turkish army camps to live in the uplifting atmosphere of the Holy City, to breathe its air and walk its sacred streets.”

The opportunity of being in the Holy Land gave the Christian boy the greatest joy. Somehow he seemed to have imbibed the very essence of Christ’s teachings, and to visit the places where Jesus had walked was a supreme moment for him. “He noticed,” Mr. Pye writes, “to his surprise and sorrow the real paganism mixed with Christianity in all these rituals and ceremonies [Page 160] in the worship in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It seemed to him that the original religion of the New Testament had lost its meaning in these services. Rituals and ceremonies cannot satisfy the thirst and hunger for righteousness.”

When General Allenby took Jerusalem, Bedros was able at last to escape from the Turkish army and give himself up to the English. The account of his escape told in Bedros’s words from the “War Journal” is one of the most interesting parts of the book. He was a prisoner in Cairo for about six months and was finally freed to become an interpreter for the English. In 1920, he was discharged from the British army and with the help of his Mennonite missionary friends, he was able to come to Bluffton College in Bluffton, Ohio. Here he hoped to go on with his education and prepare himself to be a missionary to his people. Now, seven years later, he has become an American citizen and is living with his wife and two little boys in Georgia.

The events of Bedros Sharian’s life, however, are not the message of the book. Its message is, rather, to show how a man of simple, sincere faith in God is protected and sustained during the most difficult days of his life, and further, to make clear that a troubled world may find the way out of its misery by this same faith and brotherly love. Mr. Pye in his final chapter, emphasizes Bedros Sharian’s words in statements of his own such as these: “So-called civilization from which God is debarred is something less than barbarism. The need of the Turks and Of the whole present-day world is for an inclusive renovation. . . . Change of heart in the integrity of one’s moral being and restitution for hurt done to others—these are essential to reconciliation and lasting peace.”

In short, Bedros Sharian says that he wrote his Journal to show that an Unseen Hand guided his life on the field of battle and that in this there was a divine purpose. Prompted by this belief he made his record in the hope that his writing might give assurance to others who found their high purpose weakening. Mr. Pye adds these convincing words: “The world is in crisis. Its full solution lies outside of time for the reason that the Eternal is an inherent factor in the solution. The futility of much that today is being offered as solution lies in the ignoring of the Eternal in the attempted solution being sought.”