Category Archives: Matters of Faith

Eastbound and Back, Day 10 : The Healed Bird Takes Flight

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

May 8, 2024, Whycocomagh, Nova Scotia- As I look out the window on Lake Bras d’Or, a small glass cardinal hangs from a suction cup. The message has come from Arizona, her suffering is at an end. Book Lady has closed this long chapter in her own life story, and taken flight to the Eternal Realm. Marcia Turner Brehmer served our Lord, day and night, for over fifty years. She was as one of the older sisters I never had, and helped me keep things in perspective, when my beloved wife passed, in 2011. She met, and married Carl, about forty two years ago, a marvel, in that they came from places at the opposite ends of the nation’s midsection, almost a beeline apart: She, from Brownsville, Texas and he, from outside Pembina, North Dakota. He is a consummate, multi-talented musician. She was a soulful poet and crafts person. In the weeks and months ahead, I will keep her, Carl and their family, in prayer, knowing that she will be watching over us all, with fortitude and diligence, the way she lived this life.

Marcia brought dignity to any gathering, and served to remind us to never, once, ignore the least among us. She was equally at home in the simplest of dwellings, in the most opulent of mansions and in the majestic Houses of Worship she and Carl visited in Wilmette, in Panama City and in Sydney. Together, they brought joy to countless gatherings, and hosted so many more, at their home in Chino Valley. Both the promulgation of the Baha’i Teachings and standing for the rights of women and girls took Marcia’s full attention. She and Carl raised their two children with love and patience, extending that love and patience to their granddaughter. Three strong adults stand as testimony to their efforts.

Marcia also never let herself be limited by physical restraints, from serving God and humanity. As she said to me recently, some go on journeys of the body; others go on journeys of the mind. Her mind went to places of beauty that the rest of us can only dimly imagine. May her spirit long watch over us, and shower her loved ones with blessings.

Eastward Bound and Back, Day 6: Tenuous

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 4, 2024, Wakefield, MA- Mom is in stable condition, though her speech is slower. She still has a firm grip and was glad to see me standing at her side, in the dining room of her upstairs wing. My brother and sister-in-law came in, after a bit, and we whiled away the afternoon, watching a golf tournament-still among her favourites.

Driving out from Shelburne Falls reminded me of the drive that I made, between Amherst and Saugus, in my university days. It also, towards its mid-section, reminded me of the days when we would bundle into the car and go furniture shopping, in the small town of Templeton- a premier place for home furnishings, even today. We would invariably end up at Twin Tree Cafe, a family restaurant, owned by “Uncle” Pete Carbone, in Maynard, about forty minutes further east. The Concord Rotary, which used to be a typical Northeast free-for-all, is now regulated with YIELD signs, that temper impatient Massachusetts drivers, somewhat. I didn’t hear a honked horn behind me, until much later today-but that’s a minor detail. The drive up I-95, with moderate slowing at the major interchanges, was not bad at all.

I was glad to get together, this evening, with my siblings and two of their spouses- along with a nephew whom I hadn’t seen in six years. This was a night for a fried clam & onion rings fix, which happens once or twice a year, at best, and can only be done properly in New England-just as crab cakes are best enjoyed in the Chesapeake region, or salmon is best, when in the Northwest. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Our banter this evening reminded me that next to oneself, a person’s harshest critics can be siblings-but so are one’s strongest supporters. It all boils down to the level of caring-which cuts both ways, and is never tenuous, no matter how fleeting our presence is in one another’s lives. As Mom remains on a comfortable plateau, we will take our turns, holding her hands and assuaging her fears, as best we can. In the end, we will honour her by staying close.

Eastbound and Back, Day 3: “When the Stars Begin to Fall”

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 1, 2024, Goshen, IN- With those words, from the immortal gospel song, George, the Director of the Welcome Center at the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, Illinois sent our spirits soaring. What a glorious morning it had already been, on as afternoon progressed, I was delighted to join the the celebration of the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, commemorating the day, in 1863m when Baha’u’llah and His entourage left the Garden of Ridvan, outside Baghdad, and began the long journey to what is now Istanbul.

I was a bit under-dressed for this occasion, yet the message on my tee was proper: “Created noble”. We all are, don’t you know. I was honoured to be able to convey gratitude to George, after the ceremony, as refreshments were served in Foundation Hall, under the glorious auditorium, where prayers are said aloud on special occasions, such as this, but are mostly offered in silence, by members of all Faiths- and positive thoughts by those of no Faith. I was delighted as well to meet, in person, the distinguished long-time Choral Director of the House, Van Gilmer, whose music has enkindled so many of our spirits, over the past five decades.

This is a phone camera-only journey, my digital camera being given a rest, in advance of a heavy schedule, the rest of this year. So, here are a few scenes of the “Mother Temple of the West”, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha described it, accompanied by scenes of Wilmette’s majestic Gillson Park, which neighbours the House grounds, and of beloved Lake Michigan.

Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Lilacs in bloom, west garden of the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Wallace Bowl, the amphitheater of Gillson Parl, Wilmette

Lake Michigan, from Gillson Park.

The Baha’i House of Worship, from Wilmette Harbor

So proceeded a glorious day. I felt a bit of disconnect, between my physical state and consciousness- though thankfully not quite on the order described by the author. Salman Rushdie, following his having been attacked by a young man during a ceremony he was attending, a few years back. I felt, all day, as if I was moving in a different realm, while being fully aware of, and connected with, those around me.

Nonetheless, I was able to render some service, during the visit, to guests who were at the Temple for the first time, and to convey thanks and appreciation to George and Van, for the excellent program. After leaving the sacred site, I found traffic along I-94 southbound, relatively light. It took about 45 minutes to get from the Dempster turnoff to the Ohio Street exit. After the I-55 interchange, things lightened up even more and there was virtually no one using the Skyway.

It was a tired, but happy, Schroeder family who greeted me for a short dinner respite and some catching up, from my last visit. Things were bustling and chaotic, for Val and Sparky, so I did not stay long, once dinner was done. I was also dragging a bit, by then, so the choice was made to settle into the Super 8, in this fine community, about an hour southeast of Mishawaka. Other friends here are also indisposed, so it will be on to Ohio and Pennsylvania, tomorrow afternoon. I am sorry to have to pass up Indianapolis this time, as well, yet it is critical to be where Mom is, by Saturday.

Let’s close, for now, with this rendition of “When The Stars Begin to Fall”, by the ’60s inspirational group, The Seekers.

Eastward Bound and Back, Day 2: To Chicago, Sensibly

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 30, 2024, Glenview, IL- The traffic to this small blue-collar suburb of the Windy City was mercifully light and free-flowing. Yes, it is a Tuesday night, and well-past rush hour, but no matter. In years past, I have simply jumped into the scrum that congregates at the confluence of I-55 and I-94, and threaded the needle, until we all flowed, mile by mile, to our destinations: Some, to the Loop; others to Wrigleyville, Navy Pier, whatever memorials may exist to Studs Terkel and Mike Royko and I, to the Baha’i House of Worship, in Wilmette. Tonight, though, with money in my E-Z Pass till, I took the I-294.

The day began in Miami, Oklahoma. After a deep sleep and hot shower, at Deluxe Inn, a short drive through the remaining sliver of northeast Oklahoma brought me into Missouri. Gassing up, at a Kum n’Go, I saw EMTs and police responding to a crash involving a motorcyclist. The cashier said that intersection was particularly bad, for such accidents. Ironically, it is just up the road from a major motorcycle service center/biker hangout-and across Highway 43 from Mercy Hospital. Next, Norma’s Diner offered a filling, if ordinary, brunch, in quiet ambiance, and I was on my way out of Joplin, a bit late, towards noon.

Most of my day was spent driving, up I-44, then north on the 270, with gas-ups and rest areas the main breaks. A tired, bored young man staffed the Zephyr station, in Ballwin, northwest of St. Louis, where I re-fueled both Sportage, and myself, at the mid-point of the day. The bridge across the Mississippi, a short time later, revealed a Father of Waters that is at a disturbingly muddy, low level. There was scant activity at an Illinois rest area, just south of Bloomington, though the picnic tables along a get-up-and-stretch path are imaginatively done up with mock Midwest town business fronts, as covers. I was glad to have gotten up and stretched. Dinner, a short time later, was broccoli sprouts, with protein from a Thornton’s rotisserie. (Thornton’s is Illinois’ version of Sheetz, or Raceway.)

So now, I am in a secure, quiet Motel 6. They left the light on, and the bed looks new and comfortable. Tomorrow will be the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, so I will put on my “Created Noble” tee, and head over to the House of Worship, a short seven or eight mile drive, for what has become an annual, journey-affirming visit. The Temple, and, by extension, Wilmette are collectively salubrious.

Good night, all.

The Myth of Finality

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 28, 2024, Gallup- As I was walking to breakfast, at Post 6, this morning, one of the dogs who customarily run up to their owners’ fence and barks his head off, was true to form. A raven began flying in circles, above the dog, and cawed loudly, mimicking the dog’s bark. Animals can hassle each other like that.

So, too, do we humans seem to think it is our due, to hassle one another. I give you the current version of “Forward, into the past!”-Right-wing students, mixing with peaceful protesters and yelling for a renewal of “The Final Solution”. There is no real concern about the Palestinians who have suffered, no desire to see justice for Gaza, just a re-hash of Nazi propaganda-blaming Jews in this country and around the world for the destruction that has come from two groups of extremists fighting one another. Palestinians, in Gaza, have asked that the hatred against ordinary Jews be stopped. It is, they note, not helping their search for justice.

I have relatives who are at least a quarter, or half, and in a few cases full-blooded Jewish. I have many more, both Arab and Jew, who I count as friends. None of them hate the others. Growing up, my parents counted both Arabs and Jews as friends. It is thus second nature.

In Creation, there is no permission given by the Divine, for one group of people to slaughter another. The deluded young man who called for the deaths of all Jews can quote Mein Kampf all he wants, but if he follows through, he deserves full punishment, under the law. I say the same applies to anyone calling for the deaths of all Arabs. Enough is enough! If someone, or a group, attacks a Jew, or an Arab, in my presence, I will stand for the intended victim-nonviolently, mind you, but I will stand in defense of the one being attacked.

Today is the anniversary of Baha’u’llah’s Declaration of His Mission, to unite mankind, both spiritually and materially. We Baha’is celebrated, worldwide. There are fellows in Faith who are of Jewish descent, as Penny was and there are fellows in Faith who are of Arab descent-in fact, there are Baha’is in virtually every ethnicity, across the planet. We stand for the oneness of mankind. There is no room for anyone to act on genocidal thoughts, of any kind. There is no such “final solution”.

In a few days, I will be at the Baha’i House of Worship, in Wilmette, Illinois, north of Chicago. I try to visit there, each time I head east, for family visits. The magnificent Temple helps me ground self spiritually. This time, I hope to see both Jewish and Arabic visitors, among the multitude that is there, on any given day.

The only finality should be love.

Dharma Sunset

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 27, 2024, Paulden, AZ- “You’re spirit IS you!”, the 5-year-old boy opined, as we were talking about whether we lived forever. I had just noted that my body would be gone some day, but my spirit would live on. His reply showed that he already knew that we would continue to live on.

He has named himself Sunset, and his parents are going with it. Their overarching concern is that each of their five children, and possibly a sixth, will grow to their maximum potential and on each child’s own terms. So far, what I have seen is an amazing group of strong humans, loving and nurturing with one another-and learning from their mistakes, without accumulating baggage.

It had been three years since I last visited the little bit of heaven that its residents call Dharma Farm. Most of my absence had more to do with scheduling-mine and the family’s. Tonight, though, we were in sync, the older girls preparing a simple meal and the younger siblings, including Sunset, enjoying the two exercise balls which I have given the family, rather than have the balls just sit in my bedroom and be used infrequently. I walked around the farm with the father, noting changes he and his wife have made on the property, since my last visit. Several more trees have been planted and are thriving. A couple of buildings, including a greenhouse, have been added. So, too, has a lonely young girl come to be a regular part of the family and two other, wonderful women and their children settled in.

The place continues to be a haven-and another woman, earlier today, at a different location, musing about how delightful it was to see happy children, would have been thrilled to have been here. The secret to all this is that the couple is committed to both raising their children holistically and teaching thriving skills (on a permaculture model) at the local community school, as well as in a home schooling co-operative.

Sunset will continue to burn brightly, and so will the rest of his family. Below, are two scenes of his inspiration.

I won’t be absent from here for quite so long, going forward.

The Ancient of Days

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Historical, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 20, 2024- Today marked the First Day of the Festival of Ridvan, celebrating a period of time, in 1863, when Baha’u’llah revealed His Station and His Mission, to His closest family and followers, in Najibiyyih Garden, Rusafa, Baghdad. This serene garden is also called the Garden of Ridvan, or Paradise. The entourage mostly arrived, led by Baha’u’llah, on this day, remaining for twelve days, and then heading for Istanbul, which was then the capital of the Ottoman Empire.

Baha’u’llah and His family had been banished to Iraq, in 1853, for their association with al-Bab, His Herald, Who had proclaimed His own dispensation, thus challenging the authority of the Shiite Muslim clergy. Al-Bab had been executed by firing squad, in July, 1850, which led to the mass execution of His followers and the imprisonment of Baha’u’llah for four months. Upon His release from the fetid Siyah-Chal and an attempt by a deluded follower of al-Bab on the life of Nasiruddin Shah, Baha’u’llah was subject to exile, by order of the Shah, and crossed the Zagros Mountains on foot and on horseback, in the dead of winter, 1852-3.

Baghdad proved a relatively benign locus for the entourage, at first. Soon, though, a few aggressive members of the group, led by Baha’u’llah’s half-brother, Yahya, also known as Sub-i-Azal, began to foment dissension. Baha’u’llah left the encampment and spent two years in the mountains of Kurdistan, basically giving Azal the burden of proving his leadership capabilities. When Azal proved incompetent as a leader, an emissary from the group found Baha’u’llah in the mountains and persuaded Him to return to Baghdad. He rekindled the spirits and cohesiveness of the community. Once it began to thrive again, however, Nasiruddin Shah pressured the Ottoman Emperor, Abul-Aziz, to remove Baha’u’llah and His followers from Baghdad to Istanbul (then still called Constantinople, its name since Roman times).

This chain of events led to the time He spent in the Garden of Ridvan. One of the names given to virtually all of the Adamic Prophets is Ancient of Days. This title essentially links the Messengers, from Adam to Jesus the Christ to Baha’u’llah, to the Creator. The image of God the Father has been raised, yet there is as much a feminine energy as there is its masculine counterpart, in the Creative process. Each of the Messengers has alluded to the equality of men and women, in the sight of the Divine, yet only al-Bab and Baha’u’llah have codified this equality, in Their respective Books of Laws.

Ancient of Days is used by adherents of many Faiths, basically noting that Creation is a process that goes back further than any human can comprehend and will extend in the future farther than any human-inspired model can prognosticate. Thus we have the Teaching: “This is the Changeless Faith of God: Eternal in the past, eternal in the future.”-Baha’u’llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Bah’u’llah, Section LXX, Paragraph 2.

Thus do we Baha’is honour the beginning of Our Lord’s Dispensation, celebrating from April 20-May 1, this year.

The Flow of Life

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 12, 2024- During the course of the day, at least 64 people donated blood, in a small conference suite of Frontier Village, a Prescott shopping center, located 2.1 miles from the center of town. Each person potentially saved the life of a hospitalized individual, a victim of a fire, or of a car crash, or a beating. In the days when assaults on strangers seem to be increasing, sixty-four people chose to help someone they did not know. A few of them told me, the registrar of the Blood Drive, of how someone else had once helped a family member in need.

Across the country, my mother is alert, mildly talkative, still taking minimal nutrients, and pondering the flow of life. She is ninety-five years of age, has seen four children and ten grandchildren grow to adulthood. She is seeing nineteen great-grandchildren grow into solid human beings. Through it all,she has been a stellar example of how to face challenges, head-on. Her life is flowing towards the delta that is the gateway to the ocean of eternity. It has been, by all indications, a grand journey.

Here in Home Base I, increasing numbers of people are facing the reckoning that always comes with ignoring a simple rule of life: Other people matter, every bit as much as oneself does. The person in a crosswalk, the rider of a motorcycle, a bicycle or a skateboard, the person standing in line ahead of you are not objects to be conveniently shoved aside or targets to be struck by a vehicle. Red lights, stop signs and temporary barriers, or detours, are not nuisances to be ignored, out of a desire for convenience. People who hold an opinion that differs from one’s own are not monsters to be slain or idiots to be publicly humiliated. I know that every community faces a similar challenge, in a world that still is plagued by anonymity and self-absorption. That self-absorption, though, is always headed towards a dead end.

The flow of life will ever go, in the direction that the Universe intends, and while that sometimes seems to head in odd tangents, in the end, it will likewise find its way to the Most Great Ocean.

Totally Covered

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 8, 2024- The Navajo practice a reverence for the solar eclipse. Dineh people stay indoors, as much as possible, cover their windows, fast on the day of the eclipse, and neither work nor play, but pray in the traditional way, with corn pollen. On Dineh lands, schools, businesses and mines are closed.

Even in more cosmopolitan communities, Dineh parents ask their children’s teachers to see that the children do not look at the eclipsed orb, even with “eclipse viewing glasses. So, today, part of my duty was to remind the three or four First Nations students that their parents wanted them in school, while also avoiding even inadvertent contact with the sun, while it was behind the moon. I went further, and minimized even the “well-prepared” children’s observance of the phenomenon. No one had to be sent home for adverse optical reaction to the eclipse, but some became physically ill, from anxiety about the total eclipse, were sent to the Nurse and eventually calmed down.

This is a generation that already has keen knowledge-of astronomical events, of space science and of the old Classical myths. Video gaming has provided a fair amount of information about myths and legends-and about physics. The Alphas are taking the great cosmic events pretty much in stride; they seem to be taking quite a bit in stride, in fact. Given that their formative years haven’t seen much, in the way of peace, I venture that this sanguinity is the Universe’s way of making sure they are up to the challenges that will no doubt face them, when adulthood comes around.

I feel at home, talking with both Generation Z and Gen Alpha. I do not feel the anxiety that came with being a parent, during the Millennial ascendancy. My role is more avuncular, or of a grandparent, or just an older, wiser friend. So, my admonitions about the eclipse were quietly heeded, and I suspect a good many were prepped by their parents, or they prepped themselves, as to what the right approach to this rare occurrence (next up, in 2044) should be. They will be 30-1, by then, and I, if God wills, will be 93.

By mid-afternoon, winter had thrown in its two cents. Cold air and thick clouds ruled the end of the school day, as if to add Mother Nature’s assent to the admonitions of the First Nations people. Nothing really happens in a vacuum, or without cause.

Happy Places

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 6, 2024- As I drove into the parking lot of Mayer Fire Department’s central station, a day-glo sign on a house above the road proclaimed “This is My Happy Place”. A similar notice, “Welcome to Our Happy Place”, greets visitors to the Wildflower Bakery, on the edge of Prescott’s Pine Ridge Marketplace. This led me to once more reflect on my own happy places.

The list starts with Home Base I, the cozy one-bedroom apartment where I’ve lived for the past ten years, and by extension includes Prescott as a whole. Within its confines, the city offers other happy places: Raven Cafe, Peregrine Book Store, Yavapai College’s Sculpture Garden, Wild Iris Coffee House, County Seat Restaurant, Prescott College,Lazy G Brewhouse (I stick to their Non-alcoholic IPA), Lifeways Book Store, any one of four Mom and Pop pizzerias, which I visit sparingly, these days and any one of several Baha’i and other friends’ homes. In the periphery are Zeke’s Eatin’ Place, Highlands Nature Center, Thumb Butte, Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, Willow and Goldwater Lakes, Dharma Farm and Granite Mountain.

Once outside HB I, there are the Happy Places on the road-and over the ocean: Samesun Hostel and Ocean Beach; Copper Sands Motel and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument; Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery-and the San Francisco Peaks; Brewed Awakenings Coffee House and Grand Canyon’s South Rim; Jacob Lake Inn (coming back in June, my friends) and the North Rim; every last one of the First Nations Pueblos; any number of Orange County beach towns; Santa Fe, with The Pantry and Henry & The Fish; Taos; Cuba (NM) and Ghost Ranch; Manitou Springs; Monument Valley; Tucson’s Old Town; High Desert Bakery and Coronado National Monument.

There are the Baha’i House of Worship and Wilmette Village’s center; Mishawaka and the Crisenberry Family Farm, in nearby Goshen; all of Massachusetts’ North Shore-and downtown Boston; Boothbay Harbor, Green Acre Baha’i School- and the entire coast of Maine; Cape Breton Island; Newfoundland; Vancouver Island; Amarillo, with the Fun Zone and Palo Duro Canyon; Gram’s Place-and all of Tampa Bay; Tonopah and Beans & Brew; Carson City and the Tahoe Region; Portlandia; the Olympic Peninsula; Crossville and the Cumberland Plateau; Aiken and Full Moon Coffee House; Osceola Tiger and Big Cypress; Philly’s Old City, and the Museum of Art in Wood; the ‘burbs west of Philadelphia and Glick’s Greenhouse.

There are Vannes and Daily Gourmand, in Bretagne; Makati, and Manila’s Rizal Park; Daet’s Bagasbas Beach; Luxembourg’s Old City; Frankfurt-am-Main’s Dom; anywhere on Jeju-do; Busan’s Gold King Coffee House.

Happiness, though, is in the mind and heart. The people in the above-mentioned places are what make each of them special. A few would call themselves acquaintances, most would count me as a friend and one has my heart, as no other person save my late wife, Penny, had it. Each of them, and their surroundings, bring me solace. Their list will, no doubt, grow.

Each substitute teaching job that did at least one child or teen some good, each volunteer shift that produced some good, each errand of mercy to needful friends accomplished, each hike done safely and each trip that was not a waste of time is also a happy place.

I salute everyone who offers their home or business in like manner.