THE YEARLY VISITOR

In the fruit bowl

your fingerprints are

like feathers resting.

Every year you come,

like the laundress, to clean

our souls of their thrashed moments.

Our arms extended to distant mountains

beg for your caresses.

You prefer to sit like an owl

that blinks, then flies away

in the night with a screech.

Can we be unmuzzled to call

in a whisper your name

in moonlight among ribbons of air

that howl through the porch screens?

You sit hugging your knees

as if they are a refuge.

This is our hangout open to stars

that we'll never finish counting

before winter.

It is your laugh we remember then;

your laugh, like a balm for the cruel winds

of anxieties that flutter from room to room

even when the windows are closed

and the ground is covered with pecan shells

and with balls of dirty cotton

from the gin next door.

We eat pecans and wonder

if you will return in summer.

From your spirit a cascade of rose water falls.

Your eyes, like feathers, brush us in the surprise

of a morning prayer answered.

-- C.S. Cholas

July 1986, Berino, NM

(for MZ)

MATTAPONI

The Mattaponi cemetery was sure green.
Allmonds, Langstons, Custalows
Buried long ago. Other, too.
On the backside of the Baptist Church

I asked one toothless man
(His hoe divided the earth in rows),
Just how big is the Reservation?
He mumbled (no teeth, you know),
It goes all around, all around,

There and there (he pointed), it goes all around.
Thank you, sir, I wandered off;
My horizons broadened by our little talk.

-- C.S. Cholas, 1975

                        

                                            Arthur

                        He sneaks under the covers at night

                                    While I sleep;

                        Climbs mutely into shoulders

                                    In the deep of dark;

                        Slips onto fingers and digs

                                    Upon joints and knuckles

                        In the cold starkness of a dreamless night.

                       

                        His grip tightens as he chuckles, I suppose.

                                    He knows what fun comes

                        To impose hurt on my helpless limbs

                                    To please his painful whims.

                        He nuzzles in my muscles, burrows into my space;

                                    And claims them as his own.

                        He is part boa and part beartrap

                                    He wraps around shoulders

                                    And clamps on my arms.

                        All done without a sound, no whisper, no alarm.

                        Pain greets the light of dawn:

                                    It aches to lie still.

                        To sit up brings pain.

                                    To raise an arm hurts.

                        A turn of the neck sends jolts down my back.

                        The only escape is to move

                                    And slowly break his grip.

                        Arthur writes us a tale of torment:

                                    Anguish of a body under siege.

                        In the angry clutches of his chains.

                                    Another day begins.

                                   

                                                                                    April 2018

Reflection

He had (every) reason to be angry

And yet no reason at all;

Betrayed by love, by friends,

By superiors, yet

Befriended by the poor and lowly

Of the town.

Told to take a Hard look at himself,

He went to a nearby pond

Stared at his face in the subtle ripples

The distorted bending of his features,

‘til he threw not a pebble,

But a sizeable rock in the middle

Of his watery reflection and watched

His face explode into numberless bits

Of light, color and shadows on the surface.

It felt good to see his own form eventually

Come back together on the pond,

Gently wavering, slowly simmering

Into a clearer picture of who he was.

We are Broken Winged Birds

The following essay, which has been slightly revised, began as a letter to several Bahá'í friends in New Mexico, who are involved in teaching the Faith to native people.

Dear Friends,

Greetings! There is an interesting, mystical connection between the prayer revealed by 'Abdu'l-Bahá for the Western States and native Americans... here's some notes that might interest you:

First, some background....

Bahá'í history:

We all know that Bahá'u'lláh placed upon His eldest and most beloved Son, 'Abdu'l-Bahá, a three-fold mission. 1) to have the holy remains of the Báb safely interred at the designated Spot on Mt. Carmel; 2) to raise up the first House of Worship in Ishqabad; and 3) and foremost, to carry the Message of Bahá'u'lláh to the West.

The second of these missions was initiated by the Master in 1902 and supervised by "the venerable Haji Mirza Muhammad-Taqi, a cousin of the Báb" (God Passes By, p. 300) and was completed toward the end of the Master's life.

It took the Young Turks rebellion in 1909 to free up the Master to complete the first and third of His Holy Missions. Freed from the confines of Akka, 'Abdu'l-Bahá, as we all know, was able to proceed with the placing "the wooden casket containing the sacred remains of the Báb and His companion" in its final resting Spot. Chapter 18 of God Passes By is dedicated to that most holy entombment. It took place on the Vernal Equinox, 21 March 1909. Shoghi Effendi's has described the event in own words:

"When all was finished, and the earthly remains of the Martyr-Prophet of Shiraz were, at long last, safely deposited for their everlasting rest in the bosom of God's holy mountain, 'Abdu'l-Bahá, Who had cast aside His turban, removed His shoes and thrown off His cloak, bent low over the still open sarcophagus, His silver hair waving about His head and His face transfigured and luminous, rested His forehead on the border of the wooden casket, and, sobbing aloud, wept with such a weeping that all those who were present wept with Him. That night He could not sleep, so overwhelmed was He with emotion." (p. 276, God Passes By).

Meanwhile on that same blessed day in 1909 news reached the Holy Land about two interrelated events: In America the "first American Bahá'í Convention convened in Chicago" to create the Bahá'í Temple Unity. And from Iran news arrived about the martyrdoms of nine Bahá'ís.

The "most outstanding achievement that will forever be associated with

'Abdu'l-Bahá ministry" according to the Guardian (Chapter nineteen of God Passes By) was "the establishment of the Faith of Bahá'u'lláh in the Western Hemisphere". Of course, His travels in 1912 to the North American continent are well documented in several books, particularly the wonderful biography written by the Hand of the Cause of God Hasan Balyuzi.

Then, back in the Holy Land, in 1916 and again in 1917, the Master sent to the Bahá'ís of the United States and Canada the Tablets of the Divine Plan, the Charter for the spiritual conquest of the planet. Not only did the Master help establish the Faith of His Father in the West, now He called upon those same Western believers to go out and conquer the entire planet! And we have, of course, the wonderful prayers that He sent with those divine letters to empower the friends (us among them) to arise, to move and to endure.

In two prayers He uses the term "broken-winged bird". Once for those called to carry the Faith throughout the Americas -- "O Lord, I am a broken-winged bird and desire to soar in Thy limitless space." and, as we well know, He begins the prayer for the Western States, "O God! O God! This is a broken-winged bird and his flight is very slow-- assist him so that he may fly...."

In His Tablet of April 8, 1916 'Abdu'l-Bahá foresees and outlines the spiritual destiny of the indigenous peoples of the Americas:

"Attach great importance to the indigenous population of America. For these souls may be likened unto the ancient inhabitants of the Arabian Peninsula, who, prior to the Mission of Muhammad, were like unto savages. When the light of Muhammad shone forth in their midst, however, they became so radiant as to illumine the world. Likewise, these Indians, should they be educated and guided, there can be no doubt that they will become so illumined as to enlighten the whole world."

Of course, none of the above is new to you, but I'm taking the time to recount it as a background for the next part, and perhaps for us to ponder and to reflect on our own mission as teachers of the Cause.

A touch of Native American history:

The historical accounts of the long, unjust and brutal "Indian Wars" which peaked in the 19th century indicate that after 1890 and the cruel massacre of a Lakota village by the Army in the Battle of Wounded Knee and the capture of Geronimo in southern Arizona, the indigenous peoples of United States of America had been pretty much beaten into submission. Even famed chiefs like Sitting Bull of the resolute Lakota, who tried to learn how to become a farmer before his assassination by policeman on December 15, 1890, had surrendered. A few revolts such as one by a band of Utes near Blanding, Utah in 1926 and the struggle for autonomy by Seminoles holdouts in Florida occurred into the 20th century, but for the most part Reservation life became the lot of most of the US's indigenous population before the year 1900.

By the time of Bahá'u'lláh's Ascension in 1892 the tribes of native America had been defeated by the aggressive, deceptive and persistent pressure and attacks from the US Army. The last fights between native people, especially the Cheyenne and Lakota, and the US soldiers (such as the infamous 1876 Little Bighorn with Custer's men, or the1864 Sand Creek Massacre in Colorado under the charge of Methodist preacher turned colonel John Chivington, who believed that "it is right and honorable to use any means under God's heaven to kill Indians!") had become so hateful, that descriptions of what each side did to each other are as bad or worse than the horrible accounts we have in the Dawnbreakers of the martyrdoms of the Babís and early Bahá'ís.

Reservations were created, usually on land that couldn't produce enough food to feed the people, and every move any Native person made was watched and open to suspicion by the governing bodies. Many children died of starvation or from hypothermia in those times.

Plenty Coup, chief of the Crow in Montana, who had been a respected warrior in his younger days, saw how dispirited the people of all the tribes had become. In 1909 he sent out messengers to invite representatives from other tribes from the Plains to come to one last Council Fire. This Council Fire took place in September 1909 at Little Bighorn. Many Native leaders came, but because the gathering was under the constant gaze of US soldiers, they seemed tense and were not free to say what they might really have wanted to say. With that in mind, some of the speeches given at that fascinating gathering paid honorable respects to the white government and its help to the Indian people, something that it would be hard to believe expressed the true sentiments of those gathered.

However, Plenty Coup addressed the gathering with these potent words:

"I see no longer the curling smoke rising from our lodge poles. I hear no longer the songs of the women as they prepare the meal. The antelope have gone; the buffalo wallows are empty. Only the wail of the coyote is heard. The white man's medicine is stronger than ours...We are like birds with a broken wing." (From The Vanishing Race: The Last Indian Council by Joseph Kossuth Dixon)

Could 'Abdu'l-Bahá, half way around the world, have heard such words via spiritual waves? Was He listening to the sadness of the those weakened by the oppressors? Is it mere coincidence that the Master should reveal a prayer for the friends in these Western states in 1917 that begins, "O God! O God! This is a broken-winged bird and his flight is very slow..."?

Perhaps it is coincidence, perhaps it is a strange coincidence!

Maybe Plenty Coup was inspired to say those words by the transcendent Power of the Call. Maybe not, but ever since I read the address of Plenty Coup's to that last Great Council Fire of 1909, I cannot but feel there is a connection.

Perhaps it is a mystical connection that we can partake in when we use that special prayer each morning and beg our Lord to lead us to the receptive and waiting souls. Is there a connection between broken-winged birds and the spiritual destiny awaiting the indigenous peoples throughout the Americas as they receive and absorb the Divine Revelation of Bahá'u'lláh, Who referred to Himself as the Most Great Spirit in some of His Tablets?

Bahá'u'lláh wrote to a Bahá'í in Syria named Maqsud these beautiful Words (sometime after the revelation of the Kitáb-i-Aqdas):

"He that hath Me not is bereft of all things. Turn ye away from all that is on earth and seek none else but Me. I am the Sun of Wisdom and the Ocean of Knowledge. I cheer the faint and revive the dead. I am the guiding Light that illumineth the way. I am the royal Falcon on the arm of the Almighty. I unfold the drooping wings of every broken bird and start it on its flight." (from Tablets of Bahá'u'lláh p. 169)

For more on Plenty Coup: http://biography.yourdictionary.com/plenty-coups
Amazon: https://smile.amazon.com/Vanishing-Race-Last-Indian-Council-ebook/dp/B07CGHSV76/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1535405853&sr=1-4&keywords=vanishing+race

Chris Cholas, January 15, 1996, updated August 27, 2018

Struggling with the Difficulties of Life – 1984 visit to Monkey Hill, St. Kitt’s

            During my 1984 visit to St. Kitt’s, the Bahá’ís in Basseterre suggested I visit a Mr. Brown (perhaps Victor Brown?) who lived in the village of Monkey Hill, a short bus ride north of the airport. 

            Mr. Brown had a small cobbler shop on a hillside.  As I walked up the hill to his place, I could hear him hammering on the heel of a shoe he was repairing. 

            “Mr. Brown?” I queried as I came close to the doorway and saw him pounding on a shoe.  “Alláh’u’Abhá! I’m a Bahá’í visiting from Puerto Rico.  My name is Chris.” 

            Continuing to work on what seemed to be a problem-some shoe, he greeted me with, “I’m struggling with the difficulties of life.”  He put his hammer down and reiterated that life is full of difficulties.  I agreed.  I shared with him that I once worked in a shoe shop in my home town in the United States and could relate to troublesome shoes.

            I understood from him that he originally came from the nearby island of Nevis and had moved to Monkey Hill as a homefront pioneer for the Faith.  He said that teaching the Faith went very slow in the village, but he was committed to be there to serve as best that he could.  His shoe shop brought him only a meager income, but he seemed content. 

            It was a brief visit, but the memory of Mr. Brown diligently working on that shoe as he devotedly served the Faith sticks memorably in my mind.  

           

NEAR KAYENTA

           

                                    Through the scarlet bandana,

                                    red feather of Agathla Peak,

                                    numinous women walk near hogans.

                                    Hair like paint strokes brushed on Black Mesa.

                                    Sandstone cheekbones shade dispirited trances,

                                    plush mescal lips, eyes of coral,

                                    hearts of lodestone, indigo sky of pollen,

                                    sway dance of Mexican Water.

                                    They dissolve in a silent wind

                                    towards sheep hard as rocks.

           

                                                            -- C.S. Cholas, 1976, Kayenta, Arizona

                                                   Picurís Pottery

                                    The pottery sparkles of mica.

                                    Fired beneath piñon bonfires, black streaks

                                    Mark each pot.

                                    Between your palms

                                    Each has a curious tone and warmth.

                                    As you leave the potters' hall,

                                    A strange mood follows you;

                                    A subtle hue of someone old nearby.

                                    Days later you hear the fashioned clay

                                    Hum at night in your hands.

                                                            -- C.S. Cholas

                                                                 Picurís, New Mexico 1979

Dear Friends:  more notes from a pilgrim      14 April 1996

  One of the first visitors to arrive in Akká in hopes of attaining the presence of Bahá’u’lláh was an elderly Persian believer named Ustad Isma'il, who was half blind.

He had traveled by road from Mosul, Iraq hundreds of miles away to reach the high walls of Akká at a time when no one was allowed to enter the prison to see Bahá’u’lláh.  Unable to meet his Beloved within the prison walls, Ustad Isma'il made his residence in a remote cave on Mount Carmel.  According to '‘Abdu’l-Bahá, that early pilgrim "obtained a tray in which he displayed a few inexpensive rings, thimbles and pins.  With these wares he walked the streets (of Haifa) from morn till noon."  He made very little money but had enough "to eat his meager meals and to praise and magnify the Name of his Lord.  He was always contented and thankful."  The patience of Ustad Isma'il was eventually rewarded with his being able to attain the presence of his Lord, Bahá’u’lláh.

  Another early pilgrim was Haji Amin, who was "the first to reach Bahá’u’lláh after His imprisonment in the prison of Akká."  Somehow Haji Amin was able to pass by the guards and enter the prison, and it was arranged by one of the Bahá’í prisoners for him to see Bahá’u’lláh only in the public bath with the condition that "he should see Bahá’u’lláh without approaching Him or giving any sign of recognition."

  Indeed, life was not easy for those first pilgrims, many of whom had already suffered afflictions and imprisonment themselves for their belief in Bahá’u’lláh.  However, several months after the passing of Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, within the prison walls in 1870, the prison officials relaxed the restrictions and allowed Bahá’ís and others to enter the prison for the purpose of meeting Bahá’u’lláh.  Bahá’u’lláh, as you know, had offered to save His youthful son, the Purest Branch, from death after he had fallen through a skylight on the prison roof one night while pacing the roof in a state of prayer. The Purest Branch, instead, offered up his life as a ransom so that those who wished to attain the presence of his Father would be able to do so.  

  Today thousands of Bahá’ís make their pilgrimage each year. We arrive usually by jet airplanes, ride in air-conditioned taxis and stay in comfortable hotels. We are officially greeted by the Universal House of Justice in the reception hall of their magnificent building, the seat of the Universal House of Justice. The members of that supreme institution then mingle with the pilgrims and warmly welcome us to the Most Holy Land.  During the nine days, we are assisted by loving Bahá’í guides, cared for by gracious

servants in the pilgrim houses and given enough love to last a lifetime.  I feel that we owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, for they spiritual bounty of pilgrimage.  He sacrificed his very life, so the door of pilgrimage would be open to Bahá’ís around the world.

  And that's not all.  After each wonderful day of prayer and visits to some of the many historic and holy Places of our Faith in the area, we would gather at the pilgrim house close to the Shrine of the Báb and often find Hand of the Cause of God Mr. Furutan or Hand of the Cause of God Dr. Muhammad Varqa (or both of them!) waiting to share their marvelous wisdom and experiences with us from 5:30 p.m. until 6:30 p.m.  With such love these precious souls would speak about the Guardian, Shoghi Effendi, or about

teaching the Faith and serving it. 

  Then, at 8:00 p.m. (after a brief pause to eat and rest) the evening presentation would begin.  One night a Counsellor member of the International Teaching Centre would speak; the next night a member of the Universal House of Justice would come, and so on during the pilgrimage.  Those presentations lasted but a quick hour, but I can tell you that by the end of that hour all those in the pilgrim house would be filled with a joy and a new dedication to serve. 

  Here are a few comments and stories that I wrote down, which are not authoritative statements in any way, but are my "pilgrim notes":

Dr. Farzam Arbab, member of the Universal House of Justice, spoke about Joy. He described it as a spiritual quality and not simply an emotion.  A spiritual quality, he noted, is independent of what happens in the world, whereas emotions respond to what happens in this world.  In this sense, Joy as a quality of God has nothing to do with healing or sickness, of being rich or poor, free or imprisoned.  The source of joy is recognition of Beauty. Dr. Arbab emphasized that as the world is increasingly governed by hopelessness, the Bahá’í life should express joyfulness, because the world is losing its capacity for joy.  If we are not the bringers of joy, he asked, what do we have to offer humanity?  This is what humanity needs.  Dr. Arbab suggested that we pray to become a source of joy.    He told us that the next Plan (the Four-Year Plan) has only one aim -- a considerable advance in the process of entry by troops.  There is no other distraction. Teach and bring in people.  To do this we need to sit back and rethink our own activities and the way one teaches.  The question to ask ourselves is:  What do I have to do now in the simplest basics to be a teacher of the Cause?  Success means enrolments.  One does not teach so no one becomes Bahá’ís.  The purpose of teaching is to have people become Bahá’ís and join us to learn capacities and build a new world.  If we can answer the question, how can I become a bringer of joy? then we will have the answer to the other question, “How can I be a teacher of the Cause?”

Dr. Peter Khan, member of the Universal House of Justice, spoke about the present state of the world and the needs of the Faith.  As to where the Faith is in relation to the world, Dr. Khan mentioned three things: 1) the unprecedented disorder in the world has made it difficult for the Faith's administration to function in some countries; 2) that the Faith is experiencing growth in receptivity to the Teachings; and 3) the first signs of opposition to the Faith warned about in our Teachings are being evidenced.

As to the needs of the Faith, Dr. Khan mentioned teaching, the education of children and to have a conscious effort to become familiar with the spiritual nature of the Arc Project, which he said, is not a material concept just to beautify the mountain.  

As to teaching the Faith, Dr. Khan suggested that we contact people we've taught before even if they didn't previously show interest, because those same people may now be receptive; that we relate the Teachings to the problems causing concerns to the people around us; and that we need to do a lot more to encourage Bahá’ís doing studies in colleges and universities to relate what they are learning to the Bahá’í Teachings.

Mr. Kiser Barnes, member of the International Teaching Centre, spoke one evening about the gifts of God and particularly the gift of service and the gift of teaching.  Different people and different cultures understand things differently.  He said that we should teach people to their understanding and he shared a story told to him by a professor in Nigeria to illustrate the point:

Once in London an Englishman came to a cemetery to pay respects to his father with roses for the grave.  Not far from his father's grave, he saw a Chinese man sprinkling rice and seeds on another grave, the grave of the Chinese man's father.  The Englishman was a bit surprised to see this and so he asked the Chinese man, "When do you think your father will appear to eat the rice and seeds?"  The Chinese man humbly replied, "At the same time that your father will appear to smell the flowers."

Mr. Barnes also emphasized that it takes determination to serve God and determination to express gratitude to God for His gifts.  This determination has to be realistic or we become frustrated. (Such as in setting teaching goals.)  We should be determined to teach a few souls and to have constancy in our teaching.

The only time that it was universally forbidden to teach the Faith was the brief time when the Báb told Mulla Husayn that he should not tell anyone about the Báb until the remaining Letters of the Living accepted the Báb by their own powers. Mr. Barnes told us that the greatest danger is inactivity. 

Mr. Donald Rogers, Counsellor-member of the International Teaching Centre, spoke about the Art of Teaching and the importance of summoning the people to Bahá’u’lláh.

Before he spoke, he invited Dan Seals, a noted country singer from the US who was also on his pilgrimage, to sing for us, which he did beautifully.    The "Art" of teaching includes 1) understanding the nature of teaching, 2) the condition of the teachers, and why are some so successful and others who make effort don't seem to be so effective; and 3) the art of teaching, which requires practice.  The Guardian referred to the art of teaching and told us we could improve as teachers through practice.  We don't give enough attention to practicing the art of teaching.

Mr. Rogers told us that around you are probably several hundred people who know you and have a high regard for you.  A percentage of these would become Bahá’ís if you would pray for them and invite them to embrace the Faith.  

Mr. Rogers said that the Faith is scientific but also supernatural. Proclamation is to let people know of the existence of the Faith; Teaching is confirming souls!  The sooner you get the new believers involved in teaching the better.  Make of your home a center of learning.  The nucleus of institutes can be your own home. 

  Of course, the above only gives a taste of the talks from some of the distinguished speakers.  Always there is so much to digest and more importantly, to try to put into action.  As Hand of the Cause of God Dr. Varqa told us one afternoon: "To arise and serve is up to you.  It doesn't matter if you are children, youth or adults.  We are the elements."                                       With warmest Bahá’í love, Chris

1996 Pilgrimage Report

Chris S. Cholas

1609 W. Schunior St. #405

Edinburg, Texas 78539 USA

April 5, 1996

Beloved family and friends,

            We've returned safely from our adventures, spiritual and physical, to the Holy Land and to London.  Having Roshan and Rahmat with me made the journey very special.

            In view of recent bombings in Tel Aviv and in Jerusalem, we expected security to be tighter than it was, and for the people to be perhaps more pensive and tenser than they seemed.  Everywhere we were met with friendliness and courtesy, qualities so often missing in large cities.  Our travel arrangements worked out fine, and aside for the fact that most things in Israel are expensive relative to the US, we made out well.

            We arrived in Tel Aviv just moments before President Clinton was scheduled to deboard from his United States Presidential plane which we saw stationed out on the tarmac, so the airport was being quickly cleared for his entrance.  However, security did take time to scrutinize Rahmat a bit, due to his Arabic name and the fact that his US passport was issued in Belize, but as soon as we showed our invitation letter from the Bahá'í pilgrimage Office in Haifa, they smiled and waved us through. 

            Police and soldiers lined the way all along the one-hour route to Jerusalem, as our sherut (a shared taxi) drove just moments ahead of the diplomatic motorcade bringing the President to Jerusalem for a 24-hour visit. 

            The only unfortunate thing about our timing was that the following day many roads were closed in Jerusalem, so we had to cancel our hope to ride the famous Jerusalem tour bus 99, which takes tourists around the city's main historical sites and museums for five dollars a day.  We spent our first full day in Jerusalem wandering the Old city where we entered in the Armenian section by the Jaffa Gate.  Better weather could not have been prescribed, as the air was cool and fresh from recent rains.  We visited the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, then Roshan and Rahmat climbed up the spiral staircase of the old Lutheran Church to get a panoramic view of the area.  After that we passed through the maze-like, narrow pathways of the Jewish and Muslim sections of the old city, stopping to shop from time to time.  We walked along part of the Via Dolorosa which is believed to be the way Jesus passed burdened with His cross to the Crucifixion.  Various Christian tour groups speaking French, German, Spanish, Japanese and English would slowly move through the streets from time to time.  It seemed kind of like blood being pumped through the arteries from the heart; the groups would move for a while and then pause while their guides explained something, then the mass would flow together down the chosen path again, until another point of interest was reached. 

            We reached the entrance to the plaza on top of the ancient Temple of David, where the Dome of the Rock and the Aqsa Mosque stand, just as noonday prayers for the Moslems finished.   The mosques are closed to non-Moslems during prayer, so we waited until the believers left the area and visitors were again permitted to enter.  Once by the Dome of the Rock, I waited outside while Roshan and Rahmat ventured in, their shoes removed, to see the inside of the famed mosque, which they reported was quite beautiful, as are the exterior dome and mosaic-tiled sides. 

            From the Dome of the Rock we wound our way to the Wailing Wall where Jews of many sects come to offer their prayers.  We then returned back through the Muslim section to the Jaffa gate where we had begun hours before.   In an Armenian restaurant we rested over freshly squeezed orange juice and delicious coffee, while sharing what we had seen and learned by our homemade tour.

            The next day we went by bus to the Museum of Remembrance dedicated to the victims of the Holocaust.  The museum serves as a solemn reminder of the brutal depths that men can sink to on the one hand, and as a testimony to the incredible endurance that human beings under siege and torture can manifest.

            As Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, was nearing at sunset, we returned to the vicinity of our hotel looking to buy food before stores closed.  We found a "hole-in-the-wall" restaurant packed with people.  The smell was so grand that I couldn't resist going in with Roshan and Rahmat.  They were serving their Friday special with lamb, beans and rice with homemade bread!  The owner, so gracious and friendly, gave us samples of the food before we ordered to insure our satisfaction.  This was one of the best meals we were to have in our entire trip, and I think the three of us ate for around twelve dollars with drinks.  

            In our room that evening we turned on the television just as the excellent movie about Helen Keller, "The Miracle Worker" was starting.  It was a nice finishing touch on our Jerusalem stay.   

            The next day at noon our taxi arrived to carry us to Tiberias (Teveria) on the Sea of Galilee.  The route, which now bypasses the ancient town of Jericho, winds through land, dry and desolate, but still inhabited by nomadic Bedouins with their goats and camels.  Our right side was lined with barb-wired fence much of the way, denoting the Jordan border.  The closer we came to Tiberias, the greener became the terrain.  By the time we arrived to the southern shores of the Sea of Galilee, 696 feet below sea level, spring was in full bloom!

            We spent two nights in the Hotel Galilee overlooking both Tiberias and the Sea, taking walks along the shores during the day.  One morning we decided to visit the hot springs a couple of miles out of the city.  We asked a man at a bus stop which bus to take and before we knew it, he stopped one of his friends who was driving by and had us special delivered to the door of the old hot springs.  I offered the driver some money for the ride, but our new-found friend, who escorted us on the ride, emphatically refused it and told us to enjoy our stay.

            There are two hot springs open to the public; an old one and a modern, new one.  A third hot springs, built in the style of the old Turkish baths, was closed for renovation.  We particularly wanted to visit that very old one, as we understood that 'Abdu'l-Bahá had come to bathe there several times after he was released from prison in the early part of this century.   After wandering in the two opened facilities, we chose to bathe in the old one, which was slightly less expensive.  Women and men have separate bathing pools, and the men's side seemed to be extra hot.  Roshan verified later that the women's side was several degrees cooler.  Five minutes was about the maximum time I could wade in the water without getting out for a while.  I felt thoroughly refreshed by the time I showered and dress and returned outside to see the lovely hills that surround Galilee.

            On route back to our hotel we spent more time in the promenade area of central Tiberias.  Later Roshan and Rahmat bought some carry-out lamb kabob for us to eat in the hotel, while we watched figure skating championships from Russia on our hotel television. 

            Monday morning, March 18, we ate breakfast and anxiously prepared to check out.  Our friend from Haifa, Mrs. Maralynn Dunbar, had told us she wanted to meet us at the hotel and take us to see a few places and deliver us to the Bahá'í pilgrim house in Haifa after lunch for our pilgrimage orientation.

            Mrs. Dunbar drove us to the beautiful Church of the Beatitudes on the northern side of Galilee at the site where Jesus gave the Sermon on the Mount.  While entering the eight-sided temple, a rain began to fall.  Everything glistened in the fresh wetness.  Ironically, Mussolini, the terrible Italian dictator, had commissioned the construction of this church, which is cared for by an order of nuns. 

            Our second stop with the ancient fishing village of Capernaum, where Saint Peter hailed from.   Jesus had visited Capernaum various times.  The ruins of this lovely place still carry a special, ethereal feeling.  I could understand why many Christians consider this their favorite of favorite places when they visit Israel.            

            We passed by Nazareth from a distance.  Our time was short and Maralynn told us that traffic in Nazareth is generally congested, so we decided to visit the Plain of Armageddon instead, as our final pre-pilgrimage tour.  Armageddon is a broad, pasture area behind the range of mountains known as Mount Carmel.

            Maralynn drove us to our hotel on the top of Mount Carmel and waited for us while we checked in, so she could deliver us before we were late to the Pilgrim House halfway down the mountainsides below.  We had reached the biblical Carmel, which means "the Vineyard of the Lord", mentioned in Isaiah 35:1-2:   The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.  It shall blossom abundantly and rejoice even with joy and singing: the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon, they shall see the glory of the Lord and the excellency of our God.

            Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Bahá'í Faith, wrote "Within the heart of this planet lies the 'Most Holy Land', acclaimed by 'Abdu'l-Bahá as 'the Nest of the Prophets' and which must be regarded as the centre of the (Bahá'í) world and the Qiblih (Point of Adoration) of the nations (Citadel of Faith, p. 95)."   Aware of this, most Bahá'ís world-wide long to make a pilgrimage sometime in their life to the Bahá'í Holy Places located in and around Mount Carmel, "the Tabernacle of Glory," "the mountain of the Lord to which all nations shall flow." 

            Near Haifa is the crusader city of Akká, which served as a penal colony in the times of the Turkish Ottomans, whose Sultan banished and imprisoned Bahá'u'lláh and his family to this "most desolate place".  Now no longer desolate, one can wander freely through the streets of Akká and see reminders of both the remnants of the crusader times and of the more recent incarceration of Bahá'u'lláh. 

            After nine years of imprisonment in Akká, Bahá'u'lláh, at the begging of both local Muslim and civic leaders, who had become enchanted by Bahá'u'lláh's majesty even under the harshest of settings, left the prison walls to reside in an abandoned mansion in a place known as Bahji "Delight", which was rented by followers and repaired for what would be His last residence.  When Bahá'u'lláh ascended on May 29, 1892, His eldest son, 'Abdu'l-Bahá, buried Him in one of the rooms of an adjacent building used by pilgrims who arrived to attain Bahá'u'lláh's Presence.  'Abdu'l-Bahá informed the Ottoman authorities with a cable that began:  "The Sun of Bahá has set."   That room for Bahá'ís the world over now serves as the Most Holy Place. 

            The majority of Bahá'ís will never have the means to be able to take the physical pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and those who do reach often have done so after years of patiently waiting, working and praying to go.  It's natural, therefore, that by the time a Bahá'í arrives for his or her pilgrimage, that he or she will come anticipating to lay their burdens down in the Holy Shrines, to pray for their particular concerns and needs, and that he or she hopes to be filled with guidance and new life. 

            So it was with the three of us as we entered the pilgrim house located near the always majestic and beautiful Shrine of the Báb.  We had come with long lists of personal concerns, friends and family, projects and things to pray for; we had come for OUR pilgrimage. 

            As we entered the pilgrim house for the scheduled orientation, we were met by dozens of others who had also just arrived for THEIR pilgrimage.  It was in this wonderful flurry of excitement that I began to realize what would become clearer as the nine days unfolded:  that each pilgrim is part of a wave of pilgrims that briefly passes over the shores of the World Centre and then returns to be blended in the sea of humanity again.   During these precious nine days at the World Centre, we explore every Shrine, every corner and room of the Holy Places.  We absorb as much as we can of the delightful talks and exchanges that take place throughout the stay. Every scent from the flowers in the gardens, every melody shared by birds in the trees, every rush of breeze or movement of clouds is special during pilgrimage.  No wonder that even the most stone-faced and objective of men can be moved to tears more than once during their pilgrim visit.

            And just as a sea wave briefly immerses the sand and rocks of the shore with water, each wave of pilgrims brings life-bearing news and joy to the World Centre of our Faith.  We were often told this by members of the Universal House of Justice, members of the International Teaching Centre and staff personnel. The pilgrims bring much needed vitality to the World Centre.

            For nine days we mingled together, pilgrims and servants.  All who serve at the Bahá'í World Centre see themselves as servants, even the members of the Universal House of Justice, or should I say, ESPECIALLY the members of the Universal House of Justice.  The World Centre now has about 700 Bahá'ís serving a growing variety of needs.  Youth volunteers make up a significant part of these servants -- youth from everywhere.  We met youth from diverse places such as Chad, Mongolia, Siberia, Solomon Islands and El Salvador. They usually serve as guards, garden helpers or custodial helpers for a term of 1 year to 2 and 1/2 years.  Their presence is a delight.

            The pilgrimage consists of scheduled visits to different Holy Places with Bahá'í guides, evening presentations by members of the Universal House of Justice and Counsellors, and free time for the pilgrims to return to the Shrines for personal prayer and meditation.

            The most essential purpose of pilgrimage, to pray in the Holy Shrines of Bahá'u'lláh, the Báb and of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, is also the part hardest to share with others, because it is an experience beyond words and is very personal. In consideration to others, we are asked not to pray out loud in the Shrines, but other than that, how we pray is left to us.

            I found that on some of my visits to one or the other of the Shrines, my mind would be filled with people who I wanted to pray for, such as all of my dear family.  On another day during a visit to one of the Shrines, I would just want to meditate on the majesty of the Cause and not have any particular objective to pray for.  On yet another occasion I would find myself groping with those deeply internal parts of my own life that I wanted to change, begging for help from the Divine Source of Help.  

            One free afternoon, Roshan, Rahmat and I went with several Bahá'ís from Albania, India and Canada to the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh in Bahji.  While inside the Holy Place, a thunderstorm passed over with crackling lightening and deafening thunder.  What an experience! 

            During that same visit (after the storm had gone on its way and the Shrine was exceedingly quiet again) I was seated near the Holy Threshold leading into the room where Bahá'u'lláh is buried.  I had finished my prayers and I sat gazing toward that sacred Spot.  One of the pilgrims, a Persian believer, had also finished his prayers and he peacefully approached the Threshold and prostrated himself with his head on the Threshold for several moments.  Then he raised his head and reached into his coat pocket and brought out a number of photographs of children, which he carefully placed on the Threshold near the rose petals that decorate the Threshold each day. Again, he bowed before his Lord for a few minutes.  Then he gathered the photos together and put them back into his coat pocket, rose and slowly backed away from the Threshold and out of the Shrine.  We each come with our special needs, concerns and wishes, and we each receive our share of bounties and grace.  He is, after all, "the prayer-hearing, the prayer-answering God."

            Though there's so much more to share, when the cup is full the rest just overflows and falls away.  I send off this brief report from a pilgrim, a son, a brother and a friend with dearest hopes that each one of you are in the best of health, happiness and spirits. 

                                                I love each of you very much, Chris

SIGHTSEEING IN HARD TIMES

                   We chomp on cheeseburgers near the vegetarians,

                   whose curious offspring have never known the taste of meat.

                   Nearby, the dynamite plant spews smoke,

                   as rubble swells from the noise.

                   No time for poise; we'll see it on the evening news.

                   Rangers from the selenium mill

                   take snapshots at protozoans passing by

                   on a laboratory slide.

                   By the pagoda we eat granola

                   made in an ebullient formula

                   behind a bungalow hid in the honeydew.

                   The trill of omens intensifies the moment.

                   Folksongs spring from the garden

                   in the foliage of cosmic petunias.

                   There is a scent of rest among us,

                   but we soon stir toward our next misfortune.

                   Ever since we left the hourglass and turned to clocks,

                   midday has meant television news broadcasts

                   invading our lunch.

                   Every backyard displays a compost pile

                   for the rite of spring;

                   'smells like old times,' the hog farmers smile.

                   Cowpokes on horseback wander through suburbs

                   in search of a rodeo. They lasso out tales

                   about the end of the range.

                   The mystic, arcade lights dazzle our stares,

                   and we hear the excitement of loose change

                   splashing by the wishing well.

                   A lost norseman scratches his neck and says to himself:

                   Put another notch in your antlers, and head for the taiga

                   Just in time for climate change. 

         

                    In the park we pause by parchment

that narrates odes to ancestors,

                    who lived before the time of shopping malls.

         

                    Before moving on, we lean on the barrels

                   below the plaque that says:  Keep your city clean.

                   The vegetarian children continue to watch us

                   as if we are out of place.

                   We wave to them with jolly grins, walk to our car,

                   and talk over who's turn it is to sit in the back.

                                                          -- C.S. Cholas

                                                              USA, 1989