I am coming in from the garden, where tulips, crocuses, forsythia, lilac and hyacinths are beginning their journey from underground into the light. Yesterday marked the first day of Ridvan, the Most Holy Festival for Baha'is, and also the true spring in our region. I compiled a number of quotations, poems, and musical excerpts for our local gathering, but thought that I would share with you one of my favourites, which my husband read absolutely beautifully for the gathering, with wishes for a delightful Ridvan season to all.

Do ye know in what cycle ye are created and in what age ye exist? This is the age of the Blessed Perfection and this is the time of the Greatest Name! This is the century of the Manifestation, the age of the Sun of the Horizons and the beautiful springtime of His Holiness the Eternal One! The earth is in motion and growth; the mountains, hills and prairies are green and pleasant; the bounty is overflowing; the mercy universal; the rain is descending from the cloud of mercy; the brilliant Sun is shining; the full moon is ornamenting the horizon of ether; the great ocean-tide is flooding every little stream; the gifts are successive; the favors consecutive; and the refreshing breeze is blowing, wafting the fragrant perfume of the blossoms. Boundless treasure is in the hand of the King of Kings! Lift the hem of thy garment in order to receive it. If we are not happy and joyous at this season, for what other season shall we wait and for what other time shall we look? This is the time for growing; the season for joyous gathering! Take the cup of the Testament in thy hand; leap and dance with ecstasy in the triumphal procession of the Covenant! Lay your confidence in the everlasting bounty, turn to the presence of the generous God; ask assistance from the Kingdom of Abha; seek confirmation from the Supreme World; turn thy vision to the horizon of eternal wealth; and pray for help from the Source of Mercy! Soon shall ye see the friends attaining their longed-for destination and pitching their tents, while we are but in the first day of our journey. This period of time is the Promised Age, the assembling of the human race to the "Resurrection Day" and now is the great "Day of Judgment." Soon the whole world, as in springtime, will change its garb. The turning and falling of the autumn leaves is past; the bleakness of the winter time is over. The new year hath appeared and the spiritual springtime is at hand. The black earth is becoming a verdant garden; the deserts and mountains are teeming with red flowers; from the borders of the wilderness the tall grasses are standing like advance guards before the cypress and jessamine trees; while the birds are singing among the rose branches like the angels in the highest heavens, announcing the glad-tidings of the approach of that spiritual spring, and the sweet music of their voices is causing the real essence of all things to move and quiver…. ‘Abdu’l-Baha Bahá’í World Faith, pages 351-352

Today I went to the English Department final luncheon for Professors at Ottawa University. It was good to meet a few of my "colleagues". I had a pleasant visit with a famous person! Cyril Dabydeen is the IMPAC nominated author of Drums of My Flesh, along with a gazillion other books, mostly novels and short stories. He was very kind to this fledgling author and co-teacher, and I really enjoyed conversing with him. We had people in common, which was fun! The gist of it was that I decided to read him, so will certainly be seeking out his work and I'll keep you posted about my reflections on this Caribbean-Canadian writer.

In the meantime I am finishing up Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wonderful book, The Dignity of Difference. I am tempted to write out great segments of it for you, but instead will satisfy myself with this lovely bit, to whet your whistles:

One of the classic roles of religion has been to preserve a space-physical and metaphysical-immune to the pressures of the market. When we stand before God we do so regardless of what we earn, what we own, what we buy, what we can afford. We do so as beings of ultimate, non-transactional value, here because someone-some force at the heart of being-called us into existence and summoned us to be a blessing. The power of the great world religions is that they are not mere philosophical systems, abstract truths strung together in strictly logical configurations. They are embodied truths, made vividly real in lives, homes, congregations, rituals, narratives, songs and prayers-in covenantal communities whose power is precisely that they are not subject to economic forces. They value people for what they are; the value actions for the ideals that brought them forth; they preserve relationships by endowing them with the charisma of eternity made real in the here-and-now.

p. 158

I must add that there is a terrific analysis of the relationship of religion and economics, and nearing the end, a lovely rumination on forgiveness.

Deep-hearted stuff, well-thought out and presented in language which is both uplifting and accessible.

Photo Credit: Gabriel Jones

Gabriel posted some photos to Facebook and I can tell you:
they are stunning.
I fell in love with this one.

Beauty, beauty.

My sister sent me an interesting article today. I share it, not to be partisan (I'm not, and I am also neither American nor French) but because it raises issues dear to my heart: mothering and working in the world.

Motherhood and politics / Clinton and Royal have made gender the key to their campaigns. In the face of entrenched sexism, the risks are high, writes Madeleine Bunting


Here's a dream. It's the 2009 G7 summit and the photo call of the seven world leaders. All eyes are trained on the trio of women at the centre of the group: the US president, the French president and the German chancellor. To mark this moment of female achievement, these three world leaders have invited the Chilean and Liberian presidents to the summit as observers. The five women release a joint statement on a huge fund for women's health and education after a private meeting.
Reality erupts rudely into this daydream when one imagines the headlines and stories that might accompany such a picture: would President Segolene Royal have got beyond being routinely referred to as a "glamorous mother of four"? Would President Hillary Clinton still be described as cold and calculating? Would Chancellor Angela Merkel's leadership style still be characterised as one of "female modesty"? And would reporters be able to resist frequent comment on the clothing and hairstyles of these political leaders? Depressingly, the conventions that dominate political reporting seem to cling even more stubbornly to gender stereotypes than the political institutions themselves.
There is about a week to go until the first round of voting in the French presidential elections. Every way the UK looks - across the Channel, across the Atlantic, across the North Sea - a woman is at the centre of politics, and their gender is at the centre of political debate. Gender is no longer an issue of competence. The crude question of "can a woman hold top political office?" has transmuted into exacting assessments of the candidates' personal attributes according to sexist stereotypes. But what makes the campaigns of both Royal, the socialist presidential candidate in France, and Clinton, bidding for the Democratic nomination in the US, so novel is how both these daughters of the feminist movement are deliberately using these stereotypes, pioneering a new way of women doing politics. Breaking away from a Thatcher model (adopted by Merkel) of never explicitly drawing attention to the fact of one's sex, Royal and Clinton have put the fact that they are women and mothers!
at the centre of their campaigns. It is a fascinating experiment.
"Because I am a woman, things will be different," declared Royal. "The fact that I'm a woman and a mom is part of what I am," announced Clinton. At her recent rallies, Royal has had the Marseillaise played and the French tricolour flag flying as she launches herself as a modern-day M arianne - the famed symbol of the French revolution - storming the barricades of an old, staid, male political world. Her use of a very feminine wardrobe of pretty skirts and pale (often white) jackets is a contrast to the usual female political wardrobe of sober trouser suits and pillar-box bright colours. She makes no apologies for her femininity; "Mother Nation", the admiring newspaper Liberation has christened her.
Clinton's style may be different, but she also emphasises her femininity as a sharp break with the prevailing political culture. Rejecting the Texas cowboy image of the US incumbent, she made the first public appearance of her presidential bid at a children's healthcare centre, holding hands with a child. Motherhood is now offered by both candidates as a political asset - a form of authority and leadership.
In a politics driven by personality, motherhood offers some shortcuts. It helps humanise the politician, it can be used to project an emotional warmth and empathy in an age when the primary requirement of political leaders is that they "understand" the voter. Voters show in polling that they think motherhood makes women less driven by self-interest and more by the welfare of others. At a time when politicians are held in such low regard and there is pervasive political cynicism, the "mother nation" figure has some real emotional resonance in both electorates.
But motherhood is a double-edged political instrument. Motherhood and ambition are still an awkward combination on both sides of the Atlantic, as is clearly evident in the reception of both Clinton and Royal in recent months. Accusations of being "calculating", "ambitious", "cold" have dogged them from the start of their campaigns. Such terms when applied to a male candidate would hardly be seen as a drawback - what president hasn't been ambitious? - but it makes these mother politicians appear less motherly. That then raises questions about their sincerity or their opportunism, the one issue on which voters are unforgiving.
The difficult task Clinton and Royal have to pull off is to meet two sets of conflicting and shifting expectations as both good mothers and good politicians. In her recent book, Royal attempted to counter critics of her mothering by declaring that she thinks of her children (the oldest is 22, the youngest 14) all the time and that she would give up politics "without even a thought" if one of her children were sick. It is an odd way of laying out your political stall.
Being the first women to run for president offers a dramatic opportunity for a country to make a fresh start, a sharp break with the past. That is what thrust Michelle Bachelet into power as Chilean president a year ago. She was an icon of a new future for Chile, reconciled after its violent past and emerging from its entrenched social conservatism. Mary Robinson played something of a similar role when she became president of Ireland. Their elections transformed the image of their countries overnight. This is the big pitch of both Clinton and Royal, but there has to be a real hunger for that change - and in neither the US or France is that self-evident.
For all Clinton and Royal's boldness in using their sex, they are both well aware that it is the issue that could just as easily break their political careers as make them. Polling for the Clinton camp indicates that at least a third of the US electorate do not believe the US is ready for a woman president - regardless of her attributes. Meanwhile Royal has been dogged by persistent sexism. "Who will look after the kids?" was one comment from a party comrade on hearing of her presidential bid. Also, their husbands could prove a real liability. It's far from clear whether either Royal or Clinton's partners can be as supportive as a wife is routinely expected to be. Royal's partner makes no bones about his own thwarted political ambitions. It's an issue that fascinates France because it reflects the competitive tensions of so many dual-career couples.
The irony is that the handful of women at the top of politics give the impression that women have finally stormed power, when nothing could be further from the truth. In France, women account for only 12.6% of the legislature and in the US, only 16% of Congress are women. Royal and Clinton are bravely using their sex to leverage themselves into power, but all the evidence is that sexism remains entrenched.
The stakes couldn't be higher. If their candidacies contribute to the election of loathed rightwing alternatives - in particular if Royal doesn't get the socialists through to the second round - their failures will haunt, and be used to intimidate, women politicians for a generation.

It's a good morning for writing...I have just confirmed with the publishers of my first book, Partners in Spirit: What Couples Say About Marriages That Work, that I will be one of the speakers in San Diego for the Book Fair: Barnes and Noble, Thursday May 17...and again at the San Diego Baha'i Center on Saturday May 19 and attending a Sunday morning devotional at that same Baha'i Center on the 20th. I am very happy to be doing this.

I also heard this week that my second book, A Warm Place in My Heart: Young Voices on Faith, will be published this fall by George Ronald (U.K.) So May will be busy with editing, before I go to San Diego, in between teaching another week at the Mini-University at Carleton.

I have also received some wonderful contributions to the two books I am working on. The first is one in which educators speak about the connection between their professions and the spirit, and it's almost finished in first draft, but as every entry arrives I am truly moved by how amazing, and different, each story is. The second book I am working on is kind of a companion volume to the youth book, called The Bright Glass of the Heart: Elder Voices on Faith. Yesterday I received a phone call from a woman in Pennsylvania: she became a Baha'i in 1947 and is now in her mid-80's, and wanted to know if I was interested in a contribution for my book. You bet! I also received, this morning, a contribution from a friend in Africa, whose story is fascinating and touching, and is now a part of the ever-growing manuscript. I am so deeply blessed to be receiving these different narratives and collecting them.

Perhaps, today, if I am lucky, I will even be visited by a poem!

This is the last cheesecake I made: double chocolate truffle. Definitely not healthy...but it was fun to share it at Naw Ruz. Now I am trying to think about what I could create for the upcoming Ridvan festivities, which include, as always in our community, a couple of potlucks. Perhaps it's time to have fun making a different kind of cake.

As a part of a religious community, I sometimes feel like I'm split in several directions. There are all the activities one does as a part of participation in a faith group, one you have conscientiously chosen and study, and to try and integrate into your daily life. Then there's the "rest" of life: events, school, work, family activities, journeys, secular writing...and I find trying to separate these, to have one apart from the other, very artificial. I have been reflecting about this because an old friend posted something to Facebook which I found distasteful, and I asked my husband and eldest daughter if I was overreacting. Both said no, and in fact my daughter, who, at 21, is part of the culture of youth, whatever that is, basically said that you can't just be part of the faith when it's convenient, or words to that effect.

When you are a part of a faith community, of course it's a question of doing your best all the time, and of course sometimes you will mess up. We all do. Practicing faith is a process, not a product, obviously: but sometimes, there are observable results from practice, in that you make choices which may be difficult and sometimes unpopular, but which are nonetheless important because they come from that inner part of the self that I think of as the spiritual and grounded self, not subject to change when it doesn't fit the expectations of the world. It's not that you are judging other people, but at the same time, it is important to call your own self to account, and to be able to say, honestly and lovingly, if something doesn't fit, to yourself and to those you care about. You can't be two people in one person; the colloquial way of saying this, I suppose, is that you have to walk the talk. There have been so many times in my own life when I have fallen short of that, I am the last person to feel or occupy any kind of sanctimonious position, but at the same time I am conscious, as I grow older, of all the things I wouldn't have done...

I suppose it's that precarious place of regret, contextualized against "what I know now". I'm fifty: things change. On the one hand, a person can say, about any given event or past choice, "Oh, I now understand why I had to go through that", and it is helpful. So if the purpose of tests is learning, I suppose by my age you learn a little more! But sometimes faith offers protections, as well: in our faith, for example, there is a clear standard of moral behaviour and if you are able to practice it, I can tell you from the position of hindsight, you will look back with less regret.

I think about the next years of my life: at my age, I may yet have another 30-40 years on the planet, if all goes well. I want to make them better than the last ones. Of course there have been many wonderful things in the past, too numerous to even count. But hope is always present: this reminds me of a wonderful passage from Baha'u'llah: "Let each morn be better than its eve and each morrow richer than its yesterday." I like this...and I think it applies to days and months and years...so that I always think and hope that today will be better than yesterday, and tomorrow better than today. Always, the expression is Insh'allah: God willing.

Process, something like making cake. You start with the basic ingredients, and then you practice and practice and practice, and eventually, you have the recipe by heart and you can make it a habit, so that every time, it comes out right. Hopefully spirits grow like that, and eventually, maybe there is no difference between the spirit, every day, and what you do with it.

Here is a little clip I took the other night at the Ottawa Baha'i Centre Arts night. Drummers, and the beat gets people up dancing, and clapping along...the next Arts night is the last Friday in May, and they are always fun. Bring your friends...

I am reading Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, The Dignity of Difference: How to Avoid the Clash of Civilizations. An excellent find...and I thought I would share a paragraph which I like a lot, his defense of morality, page 81:

Morality is integral to the ecology of hope because it locates social change at a level at which we can make a difference through the acts we do, the principles by which we live, and the relationships we create. It sees us as something other than replaceable parts of an economic system; it grants us a form of independence from the whims and passing interests of others. Within a moral community, marriage gives permanence to love. Loyalty gives strength to parenthood. Education becomes a conversation between generations. Kinship and covenant link us to our fellow human beings so that they know they can rely on us and we know we can rely on them. The knowledge that we are strangers teaches us to reach beyond the boundary of 'us' and extend friendship and reciprocity to 'them'. The knowledge, too, that the earth is not ours, that we are temporary residents, heirs of those who came before us and guardians for those who will come after us in turn, steers us away from the destructive impulse-whether to war or premature genetic intervention or excessive exploitation-which may sometimes come to those who have no stake in a future beyond their lifetime.

This is a wonderful book...I recommend it to you.

My thoughts today have been about the differences and nuances between two words in the English language: judgment and discrimination. Both have generally negative connotations, because many people think of judgment as synonymous with prejudice and discrimination as synonymous with legalized prejudice. Yet both of these are valuable words: the ability to make a judgment also is the ability to discern, and the ability to discriminate can mean the ability to tell the difference between things which are not value-based.

I have been thinking of this since reading that a friend's religion was "the non-judgmental kind". Well, we would all presumably like to think that we are non-judgmental when we come to others, but there is another way to read this idea. In my experience, what my friend is suggesting is that s(he) wishes to be a part of a spiritual practice where people are not judging each other. Of course. This principle dates at least to one of the most commonly cited Christian adages, "Judge not that ye be not judged." None of us has the right or the knowledge to judge another human being's character, development, or practice.

However, religion itself is non-judgmental, or should be if practiced the way it is written. I don't think there is much evidence for the great spiritual leaders having been judgmental and in fact they all directed humanity against such critique of others. In the Baha'i revelation, Baha'u'llah is very clear in re-affirming this principle:

26. O SON OF BEING!

How couldst thou forget thine own faults and busy thyself with the faults of others? Whoso doeth this is accursed of Me.

AND

27. O SON OF MAN!

Breathe not the sins of others so long as thou art thyself a sinner. Shouldst thou transgress this command, accursed wouldst thou be, and to this I bear witness.

It's apparently a pretty heavy duty thing we're not meant to do: worry about other people's "faults" and furthermore, to talk about them.

People transgress this principle all the time, but blaming the religion for it is inaccurate: it's the people, not the religion, who are doing the judging. I think this is worth remembering. I value the capacity we have to reasonably discriminate. There are times when it is necessary to do so: we use human judgment to be able to discriminate our own values, such as rejecting pornography or the inequality of women with men. The list is endless.

You are spared further ruminations on the subject because I have been called to family dinner.

Today I have found myself wondering, again, whether or not I would have recognized the Baha'i faith if I had not been born into a Baha'i family. It is one of those semi-useless speculations: I was born into a Baha'i family, so I never didn't know about it. But my husband, both my parents, all my brothers-in-law, and most of my friends encountered the Baha'i teachings from eclectic backgrounds and in their young adulthood; my husband was a lapsed Catholic, and met Baha'is when he was 24; my father was about 18, and destined for the United Church ministry, when he encountered Baha'u'llah and began to study; my mother was a teenager whose sister had become a Baha'i, in the '50s in the States. They were from a strong Baptist family.

I have known Baha'is who started out as Jews or Christians or Muslims or Buddhists or Hindus or atheists...and somehow found their way to the Baha'i teachings and accepted them. I find it fascinating: what creates that kind of openness to something which can seem very strange? What creates the willingness to commit to an entire lifetime spiritual goal-setting, commitment, and self-discipline?

So much of faith is mysterious, and I cannot know if I would have appreciated the Baha'i teachings, just meeting them along the way in life. But I hope I would have.