Too often black folk are asked to carry, not only the weight of the historical and social consequences of racism but also the secondary burden of preserving “peace.”  The result is a negotiation predicated on silence, an agreement between people that seeks intimacy without honesty, trust without transparency, and fidelity without devotion to the truth.

Several years ago, I attended a conference where the issue of race was a central focus of the program. During one of the breakout sessions, the facilitator made the point that the road towards oneness will not be comfortable or easy — that a sincere approach to building unity must accommodate the awkwardness of developing sincere friendships across cultural lines where the customs and ways of the “other” may initially prove challenging to mutual understanding and respect.

One of the attendees asked why the process had to be “awkward and uncomfortable?” On the surface, the question was simple enough, one that tacitly implied that the work of building a diverse pool of friendships and meaningful associations need not include struggle. In essence, it need not be work. One can hear echoes of Rodney King’s painful plea while being savagely beaten by police officers in Los Angeles in 1991: “Why can’t we all just get along?” — King’s words were an urgent lament — beautiful in their deceptive simplicity and tragic in their lack of complexity.

I’ve heard similar statements before, more often than not, from white brothers and sisters seeking to evade the “stress and anxiety” associated with a meaningful conversation about racism. For these individuals, social interactions with black and brown folk can be a painful reminder of the legacy of systemic injustice and the reality of white privilege. These reminders become-something to be avoided.  As a result, a fear-based approach to relationships along the black/white divide develops, and people who bring up racism are silenced — or neutered by disingenuous professions of oneness intended to mute the discussion before it really begins.

Comments such as, “Why do you keep bringing up the issue of race? Aren’t we all one human family anyway?” are an example of this.  It is a clever justification, that ironically is based on a fundamental spiritual truth. But people saying such things are manipulating a spiritual truth in order to discourage meaningful conversations about difficult realities.

“We may assume a shallow affectation of oneness without ever really knowing each other”

This method of avoidance attempts to protect one’s comfort at all costs, even at the expense of the humanity of people of color for whom the issue of race, though fundamentally a social construct at odds with the spiritual reality of the oneness of humanity, is a matter of life and death. The irony is that in our misguided attempts to regulate our social interactions with the objectified “other,” we are willingly, if not knowingly, participating in an assault on the spiritual and psychological wellbeing of the marginalized amongst us.

Baha’u’llah, the prophet and founder of the Baha’i Faith wrote that “trustworthiness is the sun of the heaven of My commandments, truthfulness is its moon, and praiseworthy attributes are its stars. Yet the people, for the most part, understand not.”

Without truth, especially as it pertains to the issue of race, we may have the form of a friendship but not its substance. We may assume a shallow affectation of oneness without ever really knowing each other. We cannot proclaim ourselves soldiers for the principle of unity while we lack the courage to wage war on evasion and dishonesty. This is work that requires commitment, perseverance, and love for deepened connections built on an uncompromising allegiance to truth.

Indeed, Abdu’l-Baha, the son of Baha’u’llah wrote about telling the truth: “If only ye exert the effort, it is certain that these splendours will shine out, these clouds of mercy will shed down their rain, these life-giving winds will rise and blow, this sweet-smelling musk will be scattered far and wide.” 

Another common way of coping with the discomfort of difference is to create a circle of sameness where the choice of where to live, who to invite over for dinner, and whom to marry are framed by one’s culture of origin. “It’s just easier,” is a common explanation used as a justification to regulate proximity to diversity.

This seemingly benign expression often uttered as sage wisdom, actually reinforces social fragmentation, stratification, and alienation. If I am governed by what’s easiest as I strive to build sincere relationships across cultural lines, then I will never develop the fortitude necessary to face the difficulties such work requires.

“We must learn to question the ease that comes at the expense of authenticity”

If I cannot be a supportive witness for the many narratives that comprise the human story, then true empathy will forever elude me. If I cannot experience my own humanity in the presence of others who are different from me, then I will never fully know myself. If I cannot endure the pain of a difficult conversation about the issue of race when the most marginalized amongst us suffer under the persistent evils of systemic racism on a daily basis, then I can never claim to be a true advocate for justice and equality.

We must learn to question the ease that comes at the expense of authenticity — a comfort that quietly endures the discomfort of others — and a silence that supports a lie. This is the work of a maturing humanity — one that’s moving away from its collective adolescence. This is the labor of courageous people willing to confront their fears to build genuine friendships and authentic communities. This is the endeavor of the consecrated heart living the principle of unity, not merely professing it.

As Baha’u’llah wrote: “Let your vision be world-embracing, rather than confined to your own self. The Evil One is he that hindereth the rise and obstructeth the spiritual progress of the children of men.”

We must rise to meet the challenge of racism in spite of our fears. We must stand in the gale-force winds of discomfort and dis-ease and push through to the center. Once there, we will arrive at long last, to an enduring peace at the center of the storm, strengthened by the knowledge that we made the journey together.    Source

written by Masud Olufani

Sadness — that was the emotional feeling that came over my body as I watched the horrific and barbaric killing of George Floyd at the hands of four Minneapolis police officers. As one of the officers had his knee on Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes, I was heartbroken watching and listening to Floyd beg for his life. His familiar words rang in my ears: “I can’t breathe…” the same words uttered by Eric Garner just six years ago. Then, Floyd’s body, now lifeless, stayed pinned under the officer. The officer’s knee wedged in Floyd’s neck as if his life did not matter. To the officer, he was subhuman.

“When will there be justice for my brothers and sisters who continue to be treated in this racist, inhumane way?”

As I watched, tears began to flow from my face as this man now laid lifeless on a Minnesota street. I thought, “When will there be justice for my brothers and sisters who continue to be treated in this racist, inhumane way?”

You see, according to research mapping police violence:

• 99% of killings by police in the United States from 2013-2019 have not resulted in officers being charged with a crime.
• Black people are three times more likely to be killed by police than white people.
• Police killed 1,099 people in 2019. Black people were 24% of those killed despite being only 13% of the population.

The statistics are a reminder of the racist system that has seen little change when it comes to law enforcement and justice — a system dating back to the chattel slavery of my ancestors in America, where “law enforcement” was at the hands of slavers. The Eurocentric perspective of history portrays the end of the Civil War in 1865 as a victory of the Emancipation Proclamation. This narrative was only a surface movement of change, of Reconstruction. Was this a truth? Or was this the rise to a new formation of the laws of slavery in the racist system known as Jim Crow? At the root of the new laws of enforcement was the creation of law enforcement agencies in America.

I find it interesting that while 1965 is often acknowledged as the end of Jim Crow laws in America, the guerilla police tactics of the time continue on today. It has been said for many years that men who used to wear the white sheets of the KKK slowly turned in those uniforms for a badge and gun. I remember my uncle sharing stories of how law enforcement in his hometown in Texas recruited its officers from the KKK. I find it interesting that the job title, “Peace Officer” is used today when referring to police officers. I just want to ask them, “For who? And do your fellow comrade blue bloods believe that my life doesn’t matter?” I hear the words in my head that I’ve heard so many times — words of protestors said all too often: “No Justice, No Peace!”

“it is no surprise to me that often when police officers see me, they grip their gun holster”

Peace is not what I feel. What I feel is fear. Fear that some white person exerting their privilege will mistakenly call the police on me when I’m living within my rights. Fear that because of my large physical stature at 6’6” I will be profiled within the racist “buck” archetype. By definition, the “buck” is a man who has a specific goal: to brutalize the white man and rape the white woman. The encoding of this archetype has continuously been perpetuated in all forms of media. And it is no surprise to me that often when police officers see me, they grip their gun holster. The hardest part of this is that I’m a law-abiding citizen that works with local police in my community on police and community relations. However, none of this matters when fear and emotions set in for the officers that do not know me.

Yet, I also feel a sense of hope — a hope that has carried black folks since 1619, a higher power. As a Baha’i, I’m encouraged and find my hope in the faith of the divine teachings of Baha’u’llah. One of my favorite quotations from these divine teachings is:

“Now is the time for steadfastness. Now is the ripe moment for the stalwart warriors and champions to show forth courage and to demonstrate their heroism in the arena of service, until such time as God will exalt His Cause, will remove the distress and anxiety of His friends and trusted servants, and glorify those who were brought low among His creatures, to make them spiritual leaders among men, and to make them God’s heirs.” 

It is this guidance that gives me hope and strength to rise up and continue to do the work also defined by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. when he said, “No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

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Written by Timothy Conley

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A dear friend died last week. Because of the pandemic, there won’t be a funeral. I’ll have to pray and grieve at home. So I wonder: do those in the next world miss us the same way we miss them?

I think we’ve probably all pondered the same thing. When someone we love and care about leaves this physical plane of existence, we naturally feel the severe grief and pain of their sudden absence. It seems completely human to miss that person grievously, to experience the sorrowful anguish of loss, to brim over with tears, to sense a hole in reality which that friend or family member once filled.

One of the few species that actually grieves, we humans undergo the loss of friends and loved ones in deep and profound ways. Especially now, with the coronavirus killing so many people around the world, our collective grief has increased exponentially. We’re all connected within the fabric of human relations to someone who has passed on, and to the misery and mourning that accompanies their deaths. We miss them terribly.

But do they miss us when they’re gone?

The question intrigued me, so I decided to see what I could find out by going to the richest source for spiritual knowledge I know of, the Baha’i writings. Filled with intelligence, clarity, and deep insight, those extensive scriptures contain an enormous well of wisdom. Baha’u’llah, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, assured humanity that each of us will have an eternal existence beyond the limited lifespan of the physical body:

Thou hast asked Me whether man, as apart from the Prophets of God and His chosen ones, will retain, after his physical death, the self-same individuality, personality, consciousness, and understanding that characterize his life in this world.

Know thou that the soul of man is exalted above, and is independent of all infirmities of body or mind. … When it leaveth the body, however, it will evince such ascendancy, and reveal such influence as no force on earth can equal. Every pure, every refined and sanctified soul will be endowed with tremendous power, and shall rejoice with exceeding gladness.

Baha’is firmly believe in the immortality of the human soul, and the Baha’i teachings promise everyone an everlasting life. We’re each born from the womb of our mothers, and one day, in the same way, we will each experience birth from this realm of mother Earth into a new spiritual realm. Baha’u’llah wrote:

Know thou of a truth that the soul, after its separation from the body, will continue to progress until it attaineth the presence of God, in a state and condition which neither the revolution of ages and centuries, nor the changes and chances of this world, can alter. It will endure as long as the Kingdom of God, His sovereignty, His dominion and power will endure.

The condition of our souls and our level of consciousness in that new reality, the Baha’i teachings say, depends on our detachment from this physical world and our attachment to the eternal spiritual reality:

Blessed is the soul which, at the hour of its separation from the body, is sanctified from the vain imaginings of the peoples of the world. Such a soul liveth and moveth in accordance with the Will of its Creator, and entereth the all-highest Paradise.

We know very little about that next world, of course. Baha’u’llah wrote that “the nature of the soul after death can never be described …” and “The world beyond is as different from this world as this world is different from that of the child while still in the womb of its mother.” 

The Baha’i teachings do clearly say, though, that the next world has no physical limitations — that it is unbounded by space or time. Abdu’l-Baha, the son of Baha’u’llah wrote:

The Kingdom is outwardly referred to as “heaven,” but this is an expression and likeness and not a factual statement or reality. For the Kingdom is not a material location but is sanctified above time and place. It is a spiritual realm, a divine world, and it is the seat of the sovereignty of the almighty Lord. It is exalted above bodies and all that is corporeal, and it is freed and sanctified from the idle conjectures of men. For to be confined to place is a characteristic of bodies and not of spirits: Time and place encompass the body, not the mind and the soul.

And in a talk in London Abdu’l-Baha explained:

In the next world, man will find himself freed from many of the disabilities under which he now suffers. Those who have passed on through death, have a sphere of their own. It is not removed from ours; their work, the work of the Kingdom, is ours; but it is sanctified from what we call ‘time and place.’ Time with us is measured by the sun. When there is no more sunrise, and no more sunset, that kind of time does not exist for man.

Personally, I’ve really struggled — and continue to struggle — with this concept. I find it supremely difficult, even baffling, to imagine an existence without past or future, a timeless and placeless place. My house has a clock in every room, my cell phone continually displays digital hour and minute numbers on the screen, and I always wear a watch — so, like many Westerners, time plays a significant role in my life. In fact, I often feel like time’s prisoner, bound to a temporal reality I would dearly love to transcend. Perhaps that explains why a timeless existence seems so hard to comprehend. My mind tries very hard to wrap itself around such a concept but usually fails.

Today, modern physicists wrestle with the same dilemma. The old Newtonian physics treated time as an absolute, flowing ever-forward with mathematical regularity and without regard to anything external. But Einstein upended this view by proving that space-time forms an integral part of the fabric of the universe itself — which means that our clocks, watches, and cell phones do not and cannot measure anything absolute. Science calls this phenomenon time dilation. To illustrate: after six months on the International Space Station, which orbits Earth at a speed of about 18,000 miles per hour, an astronaut ages about 0.007 seconds less than those on Earth. Why? Because time is relative, not absolute.

In fact, quantum mechanics has conclusively proven that all particles of matter and energy, the building blocks of our universe, can also be described as waves. Contemporary physics recognizes that waves have an unusual property — an infinite number of them can potentially exist in the same location. Could this mean that time is an illusion? Might it indicate that time is only a physical construct and that beyond the physical every moment potentially exists at once? Several respected physicists have actually reached that conclusion.

When Einstein’s lifelong friend and mentor Michele Besso died, the great scientist mused about these same questions in a letter of consolation he wrote to Besso’s family:

Now he has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That means nothing. People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.

With me so far? If so, consider this: Those who have made their transition from this world to the next may have the ability to transcend time. Abdu’l-Baha put it this way:

… in the sight of God the past, the present and the future are all one and the same – whereas, relative to man, the past is gone and forgotten, the present is fleeting, and the future is within the realm of hope.

If the souls of those in the next world have no space-time restrictions, as the Baha’i teachings suggest, then could those souls easily move through the dimension we think of as time? Couldn’t those souls, then, immediately place themselves at any point in physical time here on Earth? Wouldn’t it seem possible that they could simply skip over the years of separation between their own deaths and the time when their loved ones also ascend to the spiritual world — as we all inevitably will?

Yes, I know — the idea boggles the mind. We’re so used to thinking in terms of time in the old linear way, even though the dimension we experience as time in this world emerged from and will return to a more fundamental, timeless reality.

Assuming the truth of all this leads me to one conclusion — those who have passed on to the next world may have no need for the same kind of grief we feel. They may not miss us in the same way we miss them, because inevitably, they understand that we will join them — in fact, that we already have.

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Written by David Langness

The Baha’i teachings say that racism – a social pandemic that infects the entire body politic – must become an obsolete, defeated disease through the efforts of all people.

Although this psychological and social pandemic adversely impacts societies all over the world, the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, Shoghi Effendi, singled out America as the forefront of the fight against racism.

In an open letter, dated December 25, 1938, to the Baha’is of North America, published as “The Advent of Divine Justice” in 1939, Shoghi Effendi famously characterized the problem of rampant racism pervading American culture as America’s “most challenging issue”:

As to racial prejudice, the corrosion of which, for well-nigh a century, has bitten into the fiber, and attacked the whole social structure of American society, it should be regarded as constituting the most vital and challenging issue confronting the Bahá’í community at the present stage of its evolution. The ceaseless exertions which this issue of paramount importance calls for, the sacrifices it must impose, the care and vigilance it demands, the moral courage and fortitude it requires, the tact and sympathy it necessitates, invest this problem, which the American believers are still far from having satisfactorily resolved, with an urgency and importance that cannot be overestimated. – Shoghi Effendi, The Advent of Divine Justice

Lawrence A. Hautz, a Baha’i and a close friend of the African American leader, sociologist and anti-racism crusader W. E. B. Du Bois, gave him a copy of The Advent of Divine Justice. The cover of that copy includes a handwritten note from Hautz. (See W. E. B. Du Bois Papers (MS 312). Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries, MS 312 (mums312-b132-i302).)

The Baha’i Faith in America, as this one example and many others show, has a long history of working for racial justice and the eradication of prejudice. The Baha’i teachings offer individual and social salvation from the disease of disunity — from family relations to international relations — that affects humankind as a whole. Historians have begun to acknowledge the power of the Baha’i message and spirit to unite black and white, and all races in general, seen in terms of the number and character of those African Americans who embraced the Baha’i Faith during the later years of Abdu’l-Baha’s ministry .

Of these remarkable individuals, we have a partial record, some of it already explicated earlier in this series of articles. Thanks to the added information provided by the 1935 “Baha’i Historical Record” survey (BHRS), we now have a fuller record of African Americans who embraced the Baha’i Faith during the heyday of Jim Crow racial segregation, which was not only pervasive legally, but socially as well. (For further information, see the Bahaipedia article: “Bahá’í Historical Record Survey”).

Here’s a partial list of these early African American Baha’is, along with the dates and places they first became believers:

1. Robert Turner (1898, Pleasanton, California).
2. Olive Jackson (1899, New York).
3. Pocahontas Pope (1906, Washington, DC).
4. Louis G. Gregory (1909, Washington, DC).
5. Mrs. Andrew J. Dyer (c. 1909, Washington, DC).
6. Alan A. Anderson, Sr. (1910, Washington, DC).
7. Louise Washington (1910, Washington, DC).
8. Harriet Gibbs-Marshall (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
9. Coralie Franklin Cook (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
10. Millie York (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
11. Nellie Gray (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
12. Rhoda Turner (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
13. Edward J. Braithwaite (c. 1910, Washington, DC).
14. Alonzo Edgar Twine (1910, Charleston, South Carolina).
15. Susan C. Stewart (c. 1910, Richmond, Virginia).
16. Leila Y. Payne (1912, Pittsburgh, visiting Washington, DC).
17. Hallie Elvira Queen (c. 1913, Washington, DC).
18. Alexander H. Martin, Sr. (1913, Cleveland, Ohio).
19. Mary Brown Martin (1913, Cleveland).
20. Sarah Elizabeth Martin (1919, Cleveland, minor daughter (mentioned in a Tablet by Abdu’l-Baha in 1919) later known as Dr. Sarah Elizabeth Martin Pereira).
21. Lydia Jayne Martin (1919, Cleveland, minor daughter also mentioned in the above Tablet).
22. Alice Ashton Green (1913, Washington, DC).
23. Elizabeth Ashton (Alice’s mother, 1913, Washington, DC).
24. John R. Ashton (Alice’s father, 1913, Washington, DC).
25. Mabry C. Oglesby (1914, Boston).
26. Sadie Oglesby (1914, Boston).
27. Beatrice Cannady-Franklin (Portland, OR, 1914).
28. William E. Gibson (Washington, DC, 1914).
29. Rosa L. Shaw (1915, San Francisco).
30. George W. Henderson (c. 1915, Nashville, Tennessee).
31. Charles Aaron Tomlinson (Oct. 1916), Boston (who introduced the Faith to Zylpha).
32. Zylpha O. (Johnson) Mapp, a.k.a. Zylpha Gray Mapp (late 1916, Boston).
33. Annie K. Lewis (New York, 1917).
34. Alain Locke, PhD (1918, Washington, DC)
35. Georgia M. DeBaptiste Faulkner (1918, Chicago).
36. Roy Williams (1918, New York).
37. Amy Williams (1918, New York).
38. Felice LeRoy Sadgwar (c. 1918, Wilmington, North Carolina)
39. Dorothy Champ (1919, New York).
40. John Shaw (1919, San Francisco).
41. Vivian D. Wesson (BHRS: Sept. 8, 1919, Chicago).
42. Jeane Marie Stapleton (BHRS: 1920, Minneapolis).
43. Caroline W Harris (c. 1920, Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia).
44. Mrs. Ellen Jones (BHRS: Summer 1920, Montclair, New Jersey).
45. Bishop H. Lewis (BHRS: Jan. 1921, Chicago; married to Annie K. Lewis).
46. Edgar Clarence Edwards (BHRS: spring 1921, Chicago).
47. Mrs. Carrie Buttler (BHRS: 1921, New York).

These African Americans joined the Baha’i Faith during the Jim Crow era — considered “America’s apartheid” as one of the consequences of American slavery after emancipation. Their inclusion in what, at that time, was a predominantly white faith community was remarkable for those times, when any so-called “race mixing” was not only illegal but punishable in a variety of cruel ways.

The Baha’i Faith in America became equally notable in its concerted efforts to reach out to African Americans. (For further information, see the section, “The African-American Baha’is by the end of the ministry of Abdu’l-Baha,” in the Bahaipedia article cited above.)

In an obituary titled “Sir ‘Abdu’l-Baha ‘Abbas: Died 28th November, 1921,” published in 1922 in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, the renowned Orientalist Edward Granville Browne paid unambiguous tribute to Abdu’l-Baha, partly in terms of the latter’s efforts in promoting interracial harmony in America and around the world:

The death of Abbas Efendi [sic], better known since he succeeded his father, Baha’u’llah, thirty years ago as Abdu’l-Baha, deprives Persia of one of the most notable of her children and the East of a remarkable personality, who has probably exercised a greater influence not only in the Orient but in the Occident than any Asiatic thinker and teacher of recent times. . . . One of the most notable practical results of the Baha’i ethical teaching in the United States has been, according to the recent testimony of an impartial and qualified observer, the establishment in Baha’i circles in New York of a real fraternity between black and white, and an unprecedented lifting of the “colour bar”, described by the said observer as “almost miraculous”. 

Considering his meetings with remarkable people over the course of his own illustrious scholarly career, Browne’s eulogy of Abdu’l-Baha as likely the most influential “Asiatic thinker and teacher” of his day takes on greater significance.

In those days, race constituted a social identity marker and the basis for pervasive social discrimination. One of the early American Baha’is, Andrew Jackson Dyer, said to be African American, or of a “mixed” race, was born in 1847 in Virginia, and died in 1918 in Washington, DC. Dyer was employed as a messenger in a government department. His wife, Maggie Jordan Dyer, became a Baha’i in 1909. Born in March 1858 (also in Virginia) and married around 1876, Maggie J. Dyer was listed as “mulatto” in the 1880 and 1910 United States Census and, yet was listed as “white” in the 1900 United States Census.

Maggie Dyer must have devoted herself to charity for, in that same year, she helped found the “Ladies’ Unity Benevolent Society of the District of Columbia.” (See “Benevolent Society Incorporated,” Evening Star (Washington, DC) Jan. 12 1900, p. 14, courtesy of Richard Hollinger Nov. 8, 2017.)

Andrew and Maggie Dyer’s home became a place that celebrated racial diversity, yet transcended the distinctions of race by raising human identity to a higher plane of unity. On April 24, 1912 – the day after his speech in Rankin Chapel on the campus of Howard University in Washington, DC – Abdu’l-Baha addressed an interracial gathering at the Dyer’s home at 1937 Thirteenth Street NW in Washington, DC. There he lavished these words of praise on one of the rare occasions when the races would socialize together, a social taboo in those days:

A meeting such as this seems like a beautiful cluster of precious jewels – pearls, rubies, diamonds, sapphires. It is a source of joy and delight. Whatever is conducive to the unity of the world of mankind is most acceptable and praiseworthy; whatever is the cause of discord and disunion is saddening and deplorable. Consider the significance of unity and harmony. … In the clustered jewels of the races may the blacks be as sapphires and rubies and the whites as diamonds and pearls. …

When the racial elements of the American nation unite in actual fellowship and accord, the lights of the oneness of humanity will shine, the day of eternal glory and bliss will dawn, the spirit of God encompass, and the divine favors descend. … This is the blessing and benefit of unity; this is the outcome of love. This is the sign of the Most Great Peace; this is the star of the oneness of the human world. – Abdul-Baha, The Promulgation of Universal Peace

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Written by Steven Kollins

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