President Reagan’s death has prompted the expected flood of musings -- mostly positive, some negative. Liberals felt about Reagan rather like conservatives felt about Clinton: They couldn’t believe that the American people would elect this man twice. Of course, to so many people, Reagan was a hero: upbeat, positive, believing in America, a ray of hope after years of dark times. He never was a hero to me, even at my most conservative -- but then, I never made a hero out of any politician.

The 1980 election was the first time I was old enough to vote for a President. Those of us that came of age in the 70s got one message loud and clear: Government doesn’t work; it just interferes with people and should get off our backs; it screws things up. I grew up in a family that, with the exception of my maternal grandmother, was unremittingly conservative -- at least when it came to economic issues; there was some variation between individuals when it came to social issues. The man who was my boyfriend in college, and who I would marry, went from being an “uncomfortable liberal” to being deeply conservative. On top of that, I studied economics, a field where most professors were conservative -- although there were still exceptions. At the time I was in college (1977-82) there were still many liberals hanging around, quite visible in a college town, largely shaking their heads over the apathy and conservatism of the new crop of kids. Business Administration classes were packed full; the humanities were a joke -- and nobody who actually wanted to get a job after graduating was going to touch them, at least without getting a “bread-and-butter major” to go along with it. Anyway, that was the environment in which I came of age. And, I think, too, a libertarian attitude rather goes along with my own temperament. My husband once brought home a psychological test (the Firo-B) that was given to kids coming in to Juvenile Hall, and had me fill it out. It described my attitude as “You don’t tell me what to do, and I won’t tell you what to do” -- my problem with having government do things was that it interfered with people’s freedom, and because most folks don’t like their lives regulated or pockets picked, it doesn’t work.


I should probably make clear that I’ve never really been actively political -- I just try to follow events and vote, like any citizen. When I became a Baha’i in 1985, I changed my registration to non-partisan, which is fairly common among Baha’is, who are forbidden to actively engage in politics. But, during this period my political opinions changed from fairly libertarian to quite conservative as I shifted to a harder stance on moral issues. It seemed like conservatism was everywhere -- I used to listen to Rush Limbaugh when his show came out of Sacramento, and he was far less of a jackass than he became nationally. In order to be off the deep right-wing, one had to be a constitutionalist -- a breed that was not uncommon in rural northern California. (I still giggle when I hear mainstream Republican politicians described as “ultra-conservative”; it amuses me how everybody always thinks they are in the middle, and it’s those other guys who are extreme wackos.) My husband subscribed to National Review, American Spectator, and Chronicles of Culture, which I often read. I more than once observed to Grandma, the sole liberal in my life, that I wondered sometimes if I wasn’t taking the conservative point of view for granted, because I was exposed to it so much. As far as I knew, liberals scarcely existed outside academia, the media, and Hollywood -- apart from old geezers from the WWII generation who still saw the Democrats as the “party of the working man” and the Republicans as “the party of the rich”. In fact, it sometimes made me smile how conservatives always seemed to act like they were somehow under siege by liberals in these powerful centers of thought, when it seemed so obvious that liberalism had become marginal in the country and had long lost touch with where ordinary people were at. People started talking about “the L word”. Another aspect was that if I ventured to question any conservative position I’d get “the look” and an hour long lecture about why I was wrong from my husband. So, between being around apolitical Baha’is, and a husband who just expected me to agree with him, I learned not to talk about politics -- I listened a lot, but didn’t talk much.

Then, my first child was born in 1989 -- and strangely enough that affected my political attitudes. It made me somehow very aware of the fragility of life. I’d look at my brilliant and beautiful baby boy, realizing that just one good conk on the head, and everything I loved about him would be gone. When I heard of tragedies on the news, they began affecting me emotionally, when once I would have just said “Gee, that’s sad”, and forgotten it. And, I felt vulnerable. I was financially dependent on my husband, and had never really developed a career of my own. If anything happened to him, my babies and I would be in real trouble -- they’d go into day care, and I’d be struggling all day in some crappy, low-paying job just trying to survive. That is, if the crappy job would even pay for the day care, and pay the rent at the same time. My kids would come home from school to an empty house, and all its dangers. In short, the old “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality seemed less and less adequate, because I knew how easily my own bootstraps could break. “I’ve got mine, so screw you, go get your own” didn’t seem like a moral way to look at the world.

This seems an odd background for someone who has become so prominently associated with Baha’i liberals online, but I always had a strong liberal streak in my religious approach. I have always been repelled by Christian fundamentalism, and passionately believed in religious tolerance and the God-given right of every soul to explore truth for himself. Where I took conservative Baha’i positions, it was generally because I wasn’t aware of any other option -- when I discovered the options online, it didn’t take long for me to abandon them. Along with my religious explorations, I ran into people who were more liberal politically than anyone I had ever met in real life -- political liberals, instead of being virtually creatures from another planet, are people I know and respect. I can’t say I’m exactly liberal politically, even now -- I’m part of the vast American mushy middle, which is the group that actually decides most elections, when the chips are down. And, I’m voting against Bush, because I hate this war.

Which is far afield from Reagan’s passing, I suppose. It’s just that he was elected at the same time I became a voter, and I’ve traveled such a long way since then.

I've had some extra time lately to do some cyber-housekeeping, so I've been putting my email posts from the past couple of years on my website -- a job that inevitably takes a person down memory lane a bit. Well, my meandering mind stumbled on a question: Where did the idea that critiques of the Baha'i institutions and community functioning must always be confined to appropriate "channels" come from? Baha'u'llah didn't say that; 'Abdu'l-Baha'i didn't say that; even Shoghi Effendi didn't say it. All there is, are injunctions to be patient with the institutions, work out differences, and avoid "vicious" or "destructive" criticism. But the current administrators seem to have labelled virtually all critiques that take place outside channels as "vicious". It is quite astonishing when one looks at *dialogue* or the first Talisman, just how measured and cautious the criticism was. Indeed, a good deal of it wasn't even what I'd call criticism, but the frank discussion of troubling issues, like the exclusion of women from the UHJ.

With a quick look through the Baha'i library, and a few other resources I've got, the earliest reference I could find to this notion that criticism must be confined to appropriate channels (i.e. Feast, Convention, and letters to the institutions) was 1988. The first official mention is in the UHJ's *Individual Rights and Freedoms* letter; the first unofficial one was in a talk by Firuz Kazemzadeh in March of that same year. This is an innovation; a response to the fact that Baha'is were finally starting to express themselves in more public forums. Since then, it has been exalted to "fundamental Baha'i principle."

Now, my first individual exposure to the idea came when I was a brand-new believer in 1985. I was told about certain people in the LA area that were criticizing the administration (Oh, gee, ain't it awful!), and that criticism is absolutely forbidden in the Baha'i Faith. However, I was too new to realize that this notion was sheer Kitab-i-Hearsay -- and indeed, it may have been "planted" Kitab-i-Hearsay, originating with Baha'i administrators and being passed on informally, as it was to me. In any case, the idea that criticism is invariably destructive of unity is something that may be embedded in Baha'i culture, but it has nothing whatsoever to do with the Teachings.

As far as the "channels" go -- they're a joke. Take a criticism through channels, and you are even more likely to bring trouble down on yourself. In fact, the people that got into trouble with the administration did so partially because they actually had more interactions with it that your average Baha'i would. (In fact, it's the reason that other Baha'i dissidents have a stronger focus on the administration that I have had in my writing; it comes out of a difference in experience.) Indeed, letters to the UHJ have actually been held against people and resulted in their being forced out of the Faith. It's the fastest way to get a file started on you.

Even if that doesn't happen, it ends up being a "divide and conquer" sort of strategy, where critics are isolated, and basically told why the status quo must remain. It sounds oh-so-reasonable: Why didn't you just write to the institutions about it? Because nothing happens when you do -- " consultation" in this instance just means the opportunity for them to "talk you 'round".

Baha'i really are in a bind that way: Problem-solving through consultation is a part of our identity. We're a very talkative religion. :-) We piss and moan about the long and boring meetings; they are even a rich source of Baha'i humor. But let anybody try to take those meetings away from us -- as the NSA did with Unit Convention -- and you hear howls of protest. What were *dialogue* and Talisman anyway, other than forums for Baha'i consultation? But speaking openly and frankly, as 'Abdu'l-Baha' and Shoghi Effendi has given us the right to do, puts a believer at risk. Once your opinions are out there, you can be called on the carpet for them. It is assumed that a deepened and sincere believer will know ahead of time what you are not supposed to say. Say the wrong thing, and you are assumed to be undeepened and/or insincere.

I ran into an article the other day by Udo Schaefer, called Loyalty to the Covenant and Critical Thought I actually have a warm spot for Schaefer -- he’s one Baha’i writer that I can say was an influence on me when I was enrolled, but then he’ll go and say things that irritate the hell out of me. Most of the article I agree with -- he quite eloquently speaks about anti-intellectualism in the Baha’i community, and its dangers. He even talks about how accusations against intellectuals that they are “against the Covenant” are responsible for the dissidence online, although I note that he carefully avoids saying that the fundamentalists that caused this are not just run-of-the-mill ignoramuses, but in powerful positions in the administration itself. The situation of the narrow-minded accusing Baha’i liberals of being uncovenantal has been around for a long time; what made things explode (or as he puts it, made liberals “throw the baby out with the bath water”) in 1996 was that the UHJ started making the same accusation. Then, those such as myself who were appalled by the situation became equally “uncovenantal”, because the “infallible” UHJ made these judgements. A Baha’i can treat fundamentalists as an irritant to be put up with, until the point comes when they are directly threatening you with administrative authority behind them.

What irritated me was his characterization of liberals as being “in danger of ignoring the revelation”, and “influenced by the Zeitgeist”. I guess I’ve been in too many Internet discussions where fundies pull out the line that “you can’t pick and choose”, and implying that liberals are just not all that serious about Baha’u’llah. I actually had one of them tell me that I ought to just find a liberal Christian church, so I can do what I want -- as if to be liberal means that it doesn’t matter at all what religion you sign up for because you’re sort of creating your own anyway. That sort of attitude just drives me bananas.

I don’t know of any group of people that have taken the Writings more seriously, and examined them more closely than Baha’i liberals. I don’t hear anyone saying “La-di-da, that’s out of date; let’s pitch it”. The liberal arguments are a whole lot more thoughtful that Schaefer gives them credit for. The prime example is his discussion of the liberal tolerance of homosexuality. The impression I get is that he can’t even have read the online arguments about this -- he’s just shaking his head over how anyone could possible ignore the plain prohibition against homosexual acts in the Writings. First of all, even if one conceded that homosexual activity is against Baha’i law, there is absolutely nothing in that law that requires that gays be treated as many have been in the community. Silly myths abound -- Baha’u’llah is supposed to have called homosexuality an abomination (that’s Leviticus, not the Aqdas), or that His pen broke at the very mention of such a horrible sin. Baha’u’llah did not even set a punishment for it -- the Baha’i community could make it entirely a matter of personal conscience if it chose. As a Baha’i, I am required to abide by Baha’i law -- but I am not required to lecture, harass, shun, or otherwise mistreat others who have difficulty with the law, or who may disagree with my understanding of it. Schaeffer characterizes the very “support” liberal Baha’is give to homosexuals as a violation of Baha’i law. It isn’t against Baha’i law to show sympathy and tolerance towards people.

Secondly, Baha’u’llah did not prohibit “homosexuality”; He prohibited two specific acts: pederasty, and sodomy. And those two passages are the only mention of the subject in the Writings, as far as I know. Schaeffer quotes the passage that prohibits sodomy as a kind of absolute proof of his position, but “sodomy” is not equivalent to “homosexuality”. For one thing, female homosexuals don’t commit “sodomy” or use “boys“ for their sexual enjoyment, so Baha’u’llah didn’t say a single word about them. From what I can tell, the Arabic term “livat” is just as flexible in meaning as the term sodomy is in English. In California law, a person who commits sodomy has specifically committed forcible anal intercourse, and the victim could be either male or female. So, the bottom line is, it isn’t that cut-and-dried, and anyone who has followed liberal arguments on this ought to know that. Other than those two brief references, there are letters written on Shoghi Effendi’s behalf, which I think are very problematic from the standpoint of Baha’i law. I have a real hard time seeing letters by secretaries as authoritative interpretation. Now, I do think that they reflect Shoghi Effendi’s opinion, namely that all homosexuality is immoral. However, there is not a solid basis for a blanket prohibition in the Writings themselves. I regard it as a thing that the community just has to hash out -- but there are real arguments on the liberal side, not just the “Zeitgeist”. It’s a matter of looking at what the Writings say, and even more importantly, what they *don’t* say.

Another statement that bugged me was this: A theologian is not merely a student of religion; he is committed to his faith. He who pursues religious studies just for their own sake ... and sacrifices his spiritual ties and commitment to the revelation on the altar of studies, offers no benefits, but only causes damage. Now just exactly what is that supposed to mean? Religious studies is certainly a legitimate field of inquiry, and simply because one writes about it from an academic point of view is not a sign of lack of commitment to one’s own religion. Not everyone has to be a theologian or apologist.

The other thing that bothered me is that he claimed that “the view has been voiced that ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ was not infallible because he never declared that he was infallible.” I don’t know where this is from. Most of the discussion about infallibility online has been over that of the UHJ and Guardian. When ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s infallibility is discussed, it is usually in the context of his statements that contradict what we now know about science and history. But the weirdest statement of all is this one: A teaching authority only makes sense when it is infallible, when truth is fixed in a binding manner. Otherwise, there would be no authority at all, and everyone could be their own “Pope”. This is plain ridiculous. You don’t have to be infallible to be have authority -- I think this is a big mistake Baha’is make, and it’s behind a lot of the attitude fundamentalists have. There is something in between infallibility, and everyone “being Pope” -- namely, a distinction between authoritative representations of the Baha’i Faith’s position, and opinions given by individual believers. Shoghi Effendi himself said that religious truth is relative, so why does it have to be “fixed in a binding manner”? This fear of the individual somehow making himself God crops up regularly in Schaeffer’s writing; it’s a real bugaboo for him, and seems frankly bizarre in a paper that is otherwise promoting the use of reason and an atmosphere of tolerance.

I found this yesterday on a blog called Psycho Sensei:

From Knox News .com

Religion can be trouble in workplace

By PAMELA REEVES, Anderson, Reeves & Cooper P.A.
December 21, 2003

A case filed in federal court in Nashville two weeks ago illustrates why employers need to make sure their employees' religious beliefs remain outside the workplace.

The case was filed by a woman who adheres to the Baha'i faith, a sect that believes several religious figures are equally authentic messengers of God.

The lawsuit alleges that when she was fired, she was told that she was being fired before the Christmas season because her mere presence in the workplace would ruin her co-worker's holidays.

The plaintiff also alleged that other co-workers told her that they were praying for her soul and that the office manager gave her a framed picture of Jesus. She claims that her termination notice contained a letter from her supervisor that said, "Realize why Jesus Came. Recognize his Holy Name. Receive Jesus Christ into your heart. Rely on Jesus everyday."

While it is too early to predict the outcome of this lawsuit, it is safe to say that the actions of the co-workers have, at a minimum, created a potential for liability.

Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits discrimination in the terms and conditions of employment based on religion in companies with 15 or more employees. The Tennessee Human Rights Act prohibits religious discrimination for employers with eight or more employees.

It is difficult for employees to realize that their desire to share their religious beliefs with co-workers can be a form of religious discrimination. Many have strong religious convictions that they should share their faith with others. Unfortunately, this type of behavior in the workplace can create concerns.

Companies should make sure that their supervisors are aware that attempts to impose religious beliefs can be a violation of law. In particular, supervisors should be trained to avoid this type of behavior personally and to take affirmative action to make sure that co-workers are not harassing other employees.

This is not to say that one can never discuss religion in the workplace. It is fine to invite someone to attend church or to answer questions about religious beliefs. The problems occur when an employee begins to harass a co-worker about religious beliefs or makes religion such a focus that it begins to affect the terms and conditions of employment.

While the Christmas season is definitely a time for many of us to take stock of our religious beliefs, it is also a time to remember that those beliefs are personal. The workplace is simply not a pulpit.

It may be difficult in this part of the country to accept this fact, but the New Year will be a lot happier if the company and its employees are not having to spend their time defending a religious discrimination lawsuit.

Pamela Reeves is a partner in the Knoxville law firm Anderson, Reeves & Cooper P.A. Because factual situations vary, competent legal counsel should be consulted for individual advice.

As someone from the blog commented -- this kind of thing no doubt happens all the time, but it's rare for somebody to do anything about it. It actually is fairly common for a Baha'i to get some negative feedback, sometimes even from families. I think it's even worse because most of us have chosen our religion -- people would be a bit more polite if it was something we were raised in.

Actually, I had an employer who used to razz me about being a Baha'i, but it was because he himself was an athiest -- he didn't like anybody's religion. And I think he just liked getting under my skin. He was sort of a curmudgeonly old guy, and even though I generally didn't argue with him, I've never been one who could keep my feelings off my face.

What I find irritating about fundie Christians is that they talk to you like you've never heard of Jesus, or read the Bible, or thought about the issues involved at all. Most Baha'is come from some kind of Christian background, and thought deeply before declaring -- more deeply, I daresay than many that answer the emotional appeal of the "altar call".

However, for people to do this at work is just totally out of line. In fact, I can't believe the employer didn't think about the fact that there was real potential for a lawsuit here. But then, I think a lot of small employers think they can just get away with it; big companies will generally have policies about discriminations -- with small ones, it just might be one guy making a decision based on whatever biases he happens to have.

I once was turned down for a job because, at the time, I was young and hadn't had my kids yet. I don't think he even looked at my resume. This guy was tired of women taking off because of pregnancy, and was openly looking for someone who had already had children and was unlikely to have more. This, of course, is illegal as hell, and I griped about it to the agent who had sent me. Of course, like most people, I didn't do anything about it. I often wondered, though, if the person he hired lasted longer than it took me to have kids.

I think I know what the problem is: I'm tired of dealing with people, at least cyber-people. I took about six weeks off recently, due to personal circumstances, and I'm still tired of them. I'm tired of the hostility, the games, the political maneuvering, the hidden agendas, the pettyness. I'm tired of people trying to use me. I'm tired of being nice to people who I think are slightly nuts. I'm tired of worrying about whether I've said or done the wrong thing.

So, I think maybe I'll just try blogging for a while -- just talk to the ether. Maybe later tonight or tomorrow I'll talk about those articles I found.

Yesterday, I was surfing, and ran into two articles that I thought about posting or commenting on -- but couldn't decide where to do it. So, I ended up not doing either.

I've talked a lot about how the rise of cyberspace has affected Baha'i discourse, but in the last couple of years, the expansion of cyberspace has made itself felt. One reason that the conservative/liberal conflict is no longer so intense is that there are so many forums that they don't really have to hang out with each other. Of course, there are other reasons, too -- people got tired of the controversial topics, they got talked out, and they are no longer so shocking and upsetting to fundies as they once were. And, the administration hasn't taken any major action against anyone for their cyberspace activity in the last few years, which was a lot of the impetus for the angry raging that prevailed between 1996-2001. Also, I think it is very likely that some have dealt with the dissidents by taking a "leave them talking to themselves" strategy.

Anyway, these days I have tended to post to the forums I run -- just to keep them going, if nothing else. It seems like forever since I've posted to Talisman, which is the Baha'i liberal flagship, and I want to support it. Of course, a lot of my posting is reactive -- I respond to what's already going on, rather than starting threads. And, lately, I think twice about whether I really want to get into something heavy-duty. I've been veering towards talk.religion.bahai, just because it's such a casual place -- I don't necessarily have to be that articulate and profound. I try to take things to my own Unenrolled Bahai list, although it being a support group means that I don't so much bring up topics as share experiences; the Unenrolled Baha'is board on Beliefnet is broader, but equally tends to have quiet periods.

In such a situation, where there are so many options when I want to say something, the blog comes off worst -- as far as I know, it doesn't have that much of an audience, although it does have the advantage that it's not limited to any particular topic -- just whatever I feel like musing on at the time, but I feel less of an obligation to keep it going. The other advantage is that I can talk without having to deal with responses. But I pour so much of myself out elsewhere that I just never get around to posting here. I would guess that most really active bloggers aren't posting to forums much -- there's only so much time in a day.

Anyway, I don't know what I'm going to do about all this. The logical thing would be to abandon the slower or more difficult forums, and focus my attention on one or two. But each forum has its particular purpose, and an important one.

Part of it, too, is that I've changed -- I've been active in Baha'i cyberspace for four years now, and the last year has been a difficult one. In fact, when I think about it, it seems like each year out here has been more difficult than the last -- cyberspace is a rough place, far rougher than any face-to-face interaction would be. On the other hand, I've learned a tremendous amount, and done things I never thought I could do -- which is worth some bumps and bruises along the way.

So, I've been lazy about my blog, but I took this test that supposedly reveals the state of my soul -- just for fun!

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

I've been doing some searching around about fasting customs in different religions. One thing that's interesting is that all of them say that refraining from evil actions is just as important as refraining from food and drink -- especially where speech is concerned. I guess since fasting involves restraint of the mouth, restraint of speech is rather associated with it.

My favorite is the Muslim hadith where Muhammad is said to have instructed his followers that if anyone insults a fasting Muslim, or tries to begin a quarrel, that Muslim should simply respond "I am fasting."

So, I'm trying to behave myself in online discussions, and actually used the response Muhammad recommended, as a sign that if I'm attacked, I'm not defending. I swear nobody beats Baha'is at denial -- a person calls a post of mine "falsehood", "tendentious", "so-called scholarship", just for starters, but denies that it is an attack, and further accuses me of "playing the martyr." What's hard about it, is that this person didn't even address a single thing I said, but if I try to explain further, then I'm in the kind of argument I should be avoiding just now.

But I began thinking about my own style. I'm no angel; I do sometimes lose my temper, and use various colorful phrases to tell people giving me a hard time to go jump in the lake. But, you know, I thought about this exchange today -- and it just would never occur to me to call someone a lying, tendentious, pseudo-scholar even if I believed it to be true. In fact, I seldom even *think* of people that way. And if I'm angry, I don't deny I'm angry. These same people get all upset if I turn the air blue with a few four-letter words, but they can use "polite" insults and don't see what they are doing wrong. The closest I ever come to that is maybe saying that "Such-and-such is a typical fundamentalist reaction.", and even then I make it general rather than personal.

Well, I suppose I should be counting my own sins right now. How persistant the need to justify one's self!

Well, it's been a while since I've checked in here, but I thought maybe I'd give some musings on the Baha'i Fast.

Fasting has always been a struggle for me, being that I'm a rather self-indulgent sort. It's taken me years just to figure out *how* to fast effectively. I just sort of take it day by day; if I blow it, I try again, instead of giving up and figuring I can't do it. The hardest part is that keeping myself together when there are demands made on me e.g. in the classroom. I can't get irritable and snappy with kids just because I'm fasting. I always take a "just in case" snack, because I have to keep it together, no matter how tough any particular class is. I don't always need it, but sometimes I do.

The Baha'i Fast is a total fast -- you get nothing at all between sunrise and sunset. I find myself astounded at the rigor of the Muslim fast, which lasts for longer each day, and for more days, and it's considered a major sin if you break it. Baha'is haven't been imbued with that sense of sin for missing out on required spiritual practices, at least not in the West. Another factor is that we so often are doing it in isolation -- a lot of us are converts, the only Baha'is in our families. A lot of us don't have a supportive community. Certainly, the world doesn't stop because we're fasting. I find sometimes that I have to be somewhere in the evening at 6:00, and I'm faced with the prospect of either breaking fast early, or waiting a couple of hours after sunset. I generally do the former.

I've never been one who could manage to wax poetic about the spiritual benefits of the Fast. I do my best to get through it, but mostly it just means I'm tired, thirsty, and hungry -- especially as afternoon wears on. I know that's not a real good attitude, but there it is. I'm a real wimp when it comes to physical discomfort.

I've been looking around at the fasting practices of the different religions. Back in college, I used to do juice fasts sometimes, when I was doing yoga. But that was more motivated by a desire to lose weight than any spiritual benefit. But lately I've been thinking about experimenting with partial fasts, more along the lines of what Christians traditionally do. I've experimented with different meditiation practices and such, so why not give this a go? At the moment, I'm just envious that Christians can have bread and water, and still be considered to be fasting! I may have better luck at feeling spiritual about it, if I am disciplined, but not deprived. This, of course, would not be during the Baha'i fasting month, but a superogatory thing.

Fundamentalism is, at its heart quite legalistic; all the spiritual aspirations of mankind are reduced to very simple formulae, which, if you don’t buy into them, you are “irrational” or “illogical”, or just perversely determined to ignore the truth. I sent, via Grandma, a web page to my brother on Christian mysticism, which characterized the fundamentalist stance as “legalism” -- and he was predictably outraged. Then he turns around and sends me stuff on evolution and “proving” that the Bible is the Word of God that are just as legalistic as you can get. For one thing, they overwhelm with detail. One reason I won’t touch the evolution debate with a ten-foot pole is that I’d have to spend an enormous amount of time in an area that I’m really not that interested in, even to adequately address it. One reason that the anti-evolution arguments seem so plausible is that the people who are knowledgeable in this area don’t spend their time discussing it with fundies, and for people who aren’t knowledgeable, all that detail looks impressive. I’m more knowledgeable in the area of Biblical studies, but still -- it’s a tar baby. I could spend hours researching and discussing one little point, only to have the next one thrown at me. Besides, I don’t want to be in the position of arguing “against” the Bible; I just don’t have a need to do that. And I don’t think its truth is “proven” by pointing out accurate prophecies, and talking about how Christians believed in the physical resurrection early on.

Another thing that’s typical of the fundamentalist approach is the emphasis on being “rational” -- the website I was sent repeated emphasized that religious matters cannot be decided emotionally. Religion as a supra-rational experience is completely disparaged -- which seems odd given the emphasis on “a personal relationship with Jesus”, which is certainly emotional. This lack of understanding of the mystical element of religion is why the concept of the unity of religion just seems like self-evident nonsense. It is in the spiritual path that this unity is found, so they miss it completely. Actually, so do Baha’i fundamentalists, who tend to try to defend this teaching by saying that the real teachings of other religions were lost or corrupted and can therefore be discounted. Christians (and others) are quite right as seeing this as a convenient cop-out. I can find my spiritual life enriched by studying Christian mystics, even though I don’t share their theology -- Christian fundamentalists seem scarcely aware that Christian mystics ever existed.

Now, to me, there is a place for rationality in looking at religion. The same fundamentalists who argue that they can “rationally” prove their position will, for example, argue that the Church was infallibly guided as to the choice of canon, which is an idea that I think is pure nonsense. It is really a way of “rationally” justifying the irrational. You can’t “prove” the physical resurrection of Jesus -- an irrational a belief as you can get, and one that was not universally held by early Christians. So, I’m rational when it comes to looking at history. What is beyond rationality is the effect the Baha’i Writings have on my life -- which would be real to me, even if every single thing they seek to “prove” were really true.

I finally got a copy of Terry Culhane’s book *I Beheld a Maiden”. I found his discussion of the Covenant rather interesting -- it’s rather like it was something I knew but could not quite articulate: the Covenant of Baha’u’llah is more than the simple, legalistic passing-down of authority from Baha’u’llah to ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ to the Guardian and the UHJ.

Some time ago I came across a tablet of ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s:

These are the teachings which are the spirit of this century and the light of this age. Whoever inhales their fragrance is drawn to them, especially as they are confirmed by the Testament and the Covenant, the Covenant which is the cause of illuminating the world, which gives the Spirit of Life, makes souls enlightened, divine and celestial, causes them to shine like a light and transforms them into scintillating stars.

O friends of Paris! Know that no soul is quickened except through the spirit of the Covenant, no eye is illumined except by the light of the Covenant, no ear is thrilled except by the melody of the Covenant, and no heart shows forth the divine sentiments except by the bounty of the Covenant. The people of Paris are full of enthusiasm and become attracted with the utmost swiftness. Therefore, the fire of the love of God will burn intensely and spread everywhere.

Some of the regions of Europe are extremely enthusiastic. Day by day more souls enter the Cause. You have heard of this certainty. Now, make an effort, and with all your might enkindle the fire of love of the Covenant, so that Paris may surpass the other regions; and if the Covenant is made to shine forth as it should, in a short time wonderful results will become apparent; for, in this day, the moving power throughout the whole world is the power of the Covenant: it is the artery pulsating in the body of the phenomenal.

And I looked at that and thought “Either ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ was some kind of megalomaniac, or the Covenant isn’t what people think it is”. I actually pasted that passage into my word processor, replacing the word “Covenant”, with “obedience to me” or “my station” depending on how the sentence was worded -- and it was clear that if that’s all ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ meant, then the covenant-breakers were right, and he was claiming the prerogatives of a Manifestation of God. Not only that, such a reading would make ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s viewpoint quite exclusivistic -- nobody could make any spiritual progress unless they were a Baha’i, and “loyal to the Covenant”. Of course, this completely flies in the face of everything else ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ ever said.

Terry looks at the entire Kitab-i-Ahd (Book of the Covenant), not just the paragraph that appoints ’Abdu’l-Baha’ as successor, and presents a very broad view of what Covenant means -- that basically all the forces in the world that move towards unity are in accord with it, and remembrance of God is at the very heart. Now, he’s a UHJ-loyal Baha’i, and I doubt he’d think much of the course I have taken -- but it’s nice to read something about “covenant” that doesn’t make me wince. (Except when he talks about the UHJ being free of moral error, ‘cause I know it’s not.)

You look at the broad and universal vision of what Baha’u’llah and ‘Abdu’l-Baha’ taught, and I have to shake my head -- our institutions are *so* immature, from top to bottom. Not only that, there are people quite determined to keep them that way. A friend of mine was told that we don’t need due process because “this world is the realm of injustice”. I ran across another jaw-dropper from a fundie when I was working on my article that said “Justice is not a right”, in arguing against having women on the UHJ. These people don’t even believe in the same Baha’u’llah I do, I don’t think. I believe in the One who said “The essence of all we have revealed for thee is justice”.

I haven't posted anything to the blog, 'cause I haven't been thinking of much lately. Tory got into trouble with a neighbor, and I was pretty furious with her. She's a kid that doesn't respond to mild measures; you almost have to be at the point where you want to throttle her before she realizes "Oh, gee, maybe I shouldn't do that." A classic strong-willed child. So, anyhow, I stayed away from the blog while I was angry, because what I was thinking wasn't at all nice. She's an adorable, bright, charming, spunky little girl -- but if we don't win this battle of the wills now, things are going to get very bad as she gets older.

And getting angry doesn't do much for one's spiritual focus -- hard to be in a peace/tranquility/mystical sort of place when you've got a kid that's making you crazy. Makes the tears part of it easy, though! :-) I have to just ride the emotional storm, then reflect on it all when I'm calmer.

I treated myself to some gold earrings today -- probably an indulgence, but I justify it by telling myself that I need to build up a wardrobe for work. Really, I already dress up more than most teachers at most schools -- but those teachers already have jobs. Also, dressing up makes it easier to establish that instant authority you need when you're subbing. It's amazing how much of my meagre paycheck goes right back into things for work -- clothes, classes, gas etc. That's a killer, that I have to keep paying money for classes to keep a credential that isn't making me any money, and may never do so. Even a temporary or part-time job would make so much difference for us. I could have made what I'm making now without going back to school. Now I've got the debt and expenses, but none of the pay-off. The teacher training was useful, though, even for just subbing. But it's frustrating, and I'm heading into the third spring of job-hunting. I've got to where I fill out applications without any expectations now. If I can just get to that place with interviews, I'd have the emotional part of it licked, but I haven't had enough of them yet. It really is the hope that kills me. People say "Keep your chin up", but that's the worst thing of all -- the up and down roller coaster ride of thinking I really have a shot this time for one reason or another, then having those expectations dashed. I have to get to a place where I expect nothing, and don't care, and don't fall into fantasies of how great it would be to have my own classroom or a real paycheck. I have to get to a place where I don't expect anything to be different from what it is right now.

So, it's New Year's Eve -- a holiday that stopped being fun when I became a Baha'i and stopped drinking. Now, it mostly means that it's impossible to get the kids to bed, partly because it's Christmas vacation and they've been sleeping in late, and partly because they think it's exciting to be able to stay up and watch the New Year come in. Some idiot is out there shooting off fireworks, which I suppose will go on for the next few hours.

I offered some apposite comments to Jim about aging and mortality, but what can you say to a guy that began complaining about getting old when he was 28? He's now 51, grey, and seriously working on becoming a curmudgeon. Just this last year, I've noticed my eyesight going seriously downhill; I can't read the fine print on medicine bottles, etc. It has been a real disadvantage with this lice stuff going on with the kids -- I can't see a nit to save my life. Anyhow, I called the eye doctor, to find out if the required two years has passed so the insurance will pay for new glasses. It won't until this summer, and I complained over the phone about being past forty, and I can't see worth a damn etc. She tells me "Well, if you need to read a medicine bottle, just take your glasses off -- you're nearsighted." And I'll be damned if I can't read such things, clear as a bell, with my glasses off! It never occurred to me that the answer would be so simple. I must need bifocals or something.

So, that's my New Year's present; I can now read medicine bottles again, after months of helplessly squinting at them through distorting lenses.

It certainly has been a very weird year in cyberspace, with nasty squabbles, crackpot claimants dominating the conversation, and less input from the really good posters. There are people who used to talk to me, that don't anymore. I'm hoping for better things with the New Year.

I was in unusually good spirits today; it's so nice to have extended time off to catch up on things, and I find myself hoping that I won't get called right away when the kids go back to school, although, of course, that means less money. But, even now, I have lovely, quiet mornings as the kids sleep in late. I need that time, that space, that inner quiet.

The predicted flood never happened, and the kids -- my own and the neighborhood kids run in and out all day, with the dog in tow. There are times when life here seems almost idyllic. All I'd need to do is tie on an apron, and bake some cookies, and I'd be a stereotypical 1950s mom.

Instead, I read through a book that Trevor's been reading at school, and has wanted to talk about. His grades are abysmal, but he really is learning -- I wish his teachers had time to talk to him, just chat like I do with him, and they'd see his mind is just *full* of stuff.

Then, I spent quite a bit of time online today -- one of my many self-indulgences. On Beliefnet, I've still got a fundie following me around with the old "You're not a real Baha'i" bit, which I intend to ignore. We've got some new people on the Unenrolled Baha'is board, which has been fun. I'm just avoiding aggravation right now; I've had my fill of fundie-fighting. Not a word has been said on most forums about our most recent prophet -- a situation which has grown progressively uglier, and one that I'm staying clear out of.

There are times when I think I ought to just throw in the towel. I certainly don't get into debate as quickly as I once did. Comments that once would have been like waving a red flag in front of me, I just ignore. But, I always get hooked in one way or another, eventually. If I ever do sign off, it will be a gradual fading away. Nothing makes a person look sillier than repeated announcements that one is leaving. For one thing, nobody really cares that much if you do leave. Life goes on, but it seems human nature to think we are the center of the universe, and that our absence would leave a huge hole. I don't know, though -- I'm still a pretty talkative sort. :-) But so often the whole thing seems repetitive; I've already said most of what I wanted to say, and dragging through the same old arguments just doesn't seem worthwhile anymore. If I were more disciplined, I'd spend my time finishing my article and updating my website, and leave the forums alone. But I can't resist just one more check at what is going on, then I can't resist answering something, and pretty soon I've wasted a lot of time. There has been lots of chatter tonight; tomorrow I'll try to get focused.

I swear sometimes I feel like a persnickity old Miss Grundy among bohemian free spirits. What I'm finding, in looking for spiritual practices among Baha'i mystics is that there really aren't any -- the only universal seems to be meditation on the Writings, in some form or another. (Although there are some who never seem to get out of the Seven Valleys.) The rest of it seems to be a kind of follow-your-heart emotional effusiveness. And, there's nothing *wrong* with that, precisely -- and besides, who am I to tell anybody what they ought to be doing? But I'm not entirely comfortable with that. My overall outlook is more disciplined -- and in areas where I am undisciplined, I feel like I should be.

I don't know what I was hoping for, really. Maybe that I wouldn't have to go it alone. I don't know; I'll have to think on it some more.

We're on flood watch this morning. The river is supposed to crest sometime before noon, and some streets will be flooded. It probably won't reach our house, but we're prepared. They're letting water out of the dam, in preparation for the big storms ahead -- better a controlled flood than an uncontrolled one. So far, I don't see any rising water.

The reason I find "the way of tears" so appealing is that it's honest -- there's no way to force it, fake it, or fool yourself. There are no shortcuts, or easy answers. And that's really important to me, because I'm very aware that the biggest danger in mysticism is self-delusion, and there's no pride worse than spiritual pride. The way of tears is an expression of humility, weakness, and spiritual poverty. This has been an issue for me for a long time -- how do you keep yourself honest? How do you avoid fooling yourself? In most traditions, one studies under a spiritual master of some sort, a trained outside observer that serves as a reality check. This is not allowed in Baha'i teaching, and we have little in the way of tradition to guide us. There are only the Writings -- the guidance is there, but it's so easy to fool yourself. Baha'u'llah is very clear that no knowledge, no enlightenment, no spiritual progress is possible without detachment and cleansing of the heart, but how many Baha'is think that the Valley of Search ends when you sign a declaration card? Do they really believe that they are detached and pure of heart? I'm not, and I know I'm not. I'm a slow-flying broken-winged bird is all, just like the rest of humanity.

'Abdu'l-Baha' says that the slightest trace of self brings one right back to the very beginning -- and which of us does not have that? Our very religious belief becomes part of our ego-identity. One of the problems we have is that Baha'is are aware that the ego is dangerous, but instead of confronting the beast, they pretend like they've conquered it. But, boy, that accusation comes out pretty quickly if they see another Baha'i with ideas that threaten their comfortable picture of what the Faith is. And the ego charge, when thrown at someone else, is so insidious. The only defense one has is to shut up; the accusation is a silencer. That the root of the accusation is the accuser's bruised ego and need for control never gets noticed.

The very essence of the way of tears is that you give up the quest for power and control, and you weep for the loss. It's a moment when you really do bear witness to "my powerlessness, and to Thy might" instead of just reciting the words.

The Baha’i mystics of this generation are all pioneers, and I think every one of them deserves credit for that -- even the ones who get into esoteric things like numerology and cosmology that leave me pretty flat. We’re a religion that has been cut off from its mystical past -- the Shoghi Effendi era, with its emphasis on building the administrative order and establishing the Baha’i Faith as an independent religion, however necessary that might have been at the time, left mysticism behind. Baha’is in the East no longer became part of Sufi orders as the Faith became more independent. Baha’is in the West went through a titanic struggle to separate themselves from other occult groups, leaving a legacy of suspicion about mystical practice. In talking to Baha’is of that generation, I get the impression that they very much presented the Faith as a rational, practical approach to religion. Even now, I run into Baha’is who think mystics are a bunch of useless navel-gazers, who leave the real hard work of saving the world to everybody else.

Anyway, the Baha’i mystics of today are pretty much reinventing the wheel, very often without a lot of community support --- although there are hopeful signs out there, I think. But we have a long way to go.

One thing that nobody seems to talk about is the actual practice of mysticism -- which is something I find kind of odd. The impression I get is that somebody just decides they are a Baha’i mystic one day, then starts having visions and writing passionate poetry the next. Nobody ever says, “O.K., so you want to be a Baha’i mystic; here’s what you do . . .” Even so basic a thing as dhikr is rarely mentioned. At least I assume those folks who consider themselves Baha’i mystics are doing dhikr; I don’t know that for sure. There is certainly a basis for it in the Writings, as there is for meditation. But one almost has to reach back into other traditions in order to do it, which is basically what I have done. The Christian practice of lectio divina fits perfectly with the requirement that we read the Writings morning and evening. I have been practicing the Centering prayer, using the name of Baha’u’llah. The repentant attitude of Christian monks accords with the command to “Bring thyself to account each day”. Maggie Ross’ description of “the way of tears and fire” is mirrored in the Long Obligatory prayer, as well as other prayers.

One area I’m just beginning to explore is the role of the body in spirituality -- precisely because this is a very weak area for me. I’m very oral, and it shows -- I’m overweight, keep lapsing back into smoking. I have an emotional need to “take stuff in”. In a psychology class, I heard once that even the hunger for knowledge is an oral trait, since it demonstrates a dependence on external supplies. I have tended to discount the physical as unimportant to the spiritual, but of course, this isn’t really true, and is just avoidance on my part. But this is another aspect to things one never finds mentioned among Baha’i mystics online. Some things I’ve just had to feel my way towards, such as getting a proper breathing rhythm during meditation. But then, I guess, all of us are just feeling our way.

Growth, whether personal or communal, is always the result of conflict -- one could make that almost a truism. Certainly, every turn in my own inner progress has been the result of dealing with inner conflict. Religions are the same -- one could view their whole history in terms of response to both external and internal pressures. One of the sicknesses present in the Baha’i community is that we view conflict as unnatural, and alien. We are supposed to be united; there isn’t supposed to be conflict. Yet, even the most cursory and surface glance at our history shows that we have been shaped by conflict, and indeed, have experienced some terrible internal rifts. The back-and-forth push in the Faith between freedom and authority, between individualism and community has shaped us into what we are.

For someone who said she was going to turn inward, I guess I’m still saying a lot about the community. But the struggle with community issues, and the inner conflict that the discovery of the terribly wrong things the administration has done has caused me has been an important thing for my own growth. My spiritual life is much more rich and deep than it was when I was enrolled. In exploring what it means to be a Baha’i outside the community, my inner life has become stronger -- in some ways because it has become more important. Not that I’ve resolved all conflicts. I don’t ever know if I will resolve the contradiction between promised divine guidance at the helm, and the glaring fact that many of their decisions have nothing at all to do with God, except to say that this Covenant has been, in some way, at some point, broken beyond repair. But in my own soul, I still respond to the Covenant of Alast -- something which actually makes it impossible for me to be “faithful” to what most Baha’is mean by the Covenant i.e. passive acceptance of all UHJ actions as the will of God.

Except in the sense that “all things are of God”, and “all are His servants and all abide by His bidding.”

I suppose the really spiritual thing to do would be to cultivate a sense of forgiveness and compassion. I’ve come a long way in forgiving my local community -- at least partly because I discovered online that things could be worse. And partly, because the people here are the victims of the situation; we were asked to do the impossible, and I suppose every individual here did the impossible the best way they knew how. There is a growing consciousness out there that the orientation of our communities must change -- but for so many, many people it is too little, too late. It will take a whole new Baha’i generation, before we can begin to recover from the mistakes of this one. We will have far fewer communities, but they will be stronger.

I found what Maggie Ross had to say on obedience interesting. I'm not sure what church she's from, but it's certainly either Orthodox or Catholic:

Much has been made of obedience in the past, obedience to earthly superiors. There is a profound rationale behind this idea, yet today, there are few in positions of leadership who are free, kenotic, and apolitical enough to warrent such obedience . . . Not to count, in institutional terms, is to be set free. It may mean that one is not listened to; it may mean that one is generally ignored, or it may seem so. This is not to denigrate all institutions by implication: it is simply to say that a person who does not have to answer to others' power is free to proclaim that the emperor has no clothes on. This is not an abrogation of power, but an assumption of responsibility.. . An institution can be a vehicle for God's power only insofar as its leadership and members function in a kenotic attitude. God's love is not impeded by anything, but power in the name of God is possible only by kenosis. . .

We in the West have had thrust on us an idea of obedience which not only is not the obedience of the early church and the desert, but also has been the excuse for spiritual and political tyranny. The obedience of the early church and the desert is one of mutual discernment, made with prayer, fasting, and hesitancy. Particularly in the desert, the mothers and fathers were loath to give directives. They would rather teach by example, and so aware were they of the human condition and their own sins, that instead of judging they would rather have an opportunity to forgive.

This is, of course, a very different attitude than what Baha'i institutions have. (Of course, Ross is implying here that this is not the attitude of most Christian institutions, either.) First of all, it would be denied that the UHJ is an "earthly superior", since it is supposed to be the recipient of unfailing divine guidance, and is supposed to be obeyed because of that. Secondly, the Baha'i institutions are not kenotic -- they do not pour out; the friends are supposed to pour themselves out to the administration, endlessly sacrificing time, money, energy, but nothing will be given to the ones who do so. Not even a decent "Thank you" -- just demands for more. But a soul has to have a full cup in order to pour out endlessly; human beings have a limit. And finally, there is no forgiveness, and certainly not any awareness that the administration itself is composed of fallible, sinful human beings like the rest of us. Ask any Baha'i that has lost administrative rights, and been dropped and forgotten by his community. There is no compassionate understanding that we are all in the same struggle together, when we struggle with our own failings.

So, those of us who are among the unenrolled are out here saying that the emperor has no clothes. I don't know whether we are listened to or not, except for those whose Baha'i experience prepares them to listen.

Our attitudes about power and authority are very much tied up in our psychology. Years ago, they used to give tests on that very thing to kids that were booked into Juvenile Hall. Jim brought one home for me once, and had a friend of his do the analysis. The result was pretty accurate -- I'm very much a "Don't tell me what to do, and I won't tell you what to do" type of person. That is, I don't have a great desire to be an authority, or to dominate, and I get my back up when people try to do it to me. In fact, being an authority makes me uncomfortable -- it has been very hard learning to do it as a teacher. I absolutely could not have done it when I was younger, before I had my own kids. I guess this is part of the issue of power and powerlessness that I have trouble with. Sometimes, life forces you to function as an authority figure, with parenthood being the most obvious example -- otherwise you are failing in your responsibilities. I'm also not comfortable in directly defying authority, but sometimes life asks you to do that, too.

Authority issues are, of course, quite central in the controversies in the Faith right now. It is one thing to surrender to God; it is another thing for that to translate into passive acceptance of anything that human religious authorities decide they want to do. I guess the traditional Baha'i viewpoint puts the UHJ in the position of God's vehicle on earth -- obedience to them in obedience to God. But the simple fact is that they *aren't* God, and they are capable of injustice. What are we, if we give God's authority into human hands?

Oh, but that's an old story, and one that is becoming increasingly irrelevant. I'm not a member of the community anymore, and I have no plans to go back. But I find it frustrating that we have this rich and meaningful scripture, and it is all brought down to a very shallow and worldly level. "Detachment" means you don't think anything is important but serving the Faith. "Surrender" is that you passively accept whatever the majority, or the heirarchy wants to do. Service to mankind is all brought down to the level of building the administrative order. Peter Khan runs around giving lectures trying to convince the friends that marble buildings really are a spiritual endeavor. In the meantime, Baha'is are hungry, for the meaning and truth that is there, that drew them into the Faith in the first place.