A Bahá'í Pilgrimage

So, today is THE day. No words can really describe it but I hope I can convey just a hint of what I experienced.

At 9.00 we set off down Hatzionut to the waiting buses for our first visit to Bahjí. This quite a long journey, passing through both residential and industrial areas of Haifa, both affluent and derelict. Gradually we leave behind the urban sprawl and are in "the country". I had expected the landscape to be semi-desert but in fact there is still a fair amount of greenery about, with orange groves and fertile fields—but it is all very dusty. On this initial trip we approached Bahjí from the north, so as to avoid the less attractive route through the suburbs of ‘Akká so there is no warning that we are approaching Bahjí. On our arrival, we drive through a beautiful pair of wrought iron gates, hardly any wider the bus, and then up the narrow driveway to the car park where we alight into the dusty heat.

There is an air of anticipation. Some, of course, have been here before but for us that haven't it is yet another of those moments when we just do not know what to expect. We are less than 500m from the most holy spot on the face of the earth. But we do not approach the Shrine directly. Rather, we turn left and pass along the perimeter path or the Haram-i-Aqdas, past two pine trees which used to shade the Holy Family during their picnics in the grounds around Bahjí. Currently only a quarter of a circle (it is late autumn), I have to imagine the Haram-i-Aqdas totally encircling the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh and that pilgrims will use its outer path to circumambulate the physical remains of the Blessed Beauty.

After a short talk from our guide, we pass though the Amelia Collins Gate – what an honour to have a gate named after you at Bahjí – and, gradually getting quieter as we approach our destination, proceed up the path to the small porch in front of the Shrine of the Blessed Beauty.
Here we remove our shoes, and leave our bags and cameras and, one by one, enter the Shrine. The central room of the Shrine is barely able to hold the fifty pilgrims present. It is simply laid out with a small "garden" in the centre and with layers of carpets laid round the walls for us to walk, kneel or prostrate ourselves on. There in the right hand corner is the threshold of the small room in which the Blessed Beauty lies. No fanfare, no fireworks, no hype — just a simple side room in a small house, permeated with the most wonderful fragrance of roses. As before, in the Shrine of the Báb, the Tablet of Visitation is read and then, one by one, we proceed to pass round the room, surrounded by that wonderful perfume and bow before the threshold. Once again, we are left to our own thoughts, to remain to pray and meditate, or to leave the Shrine and walk in the gardens around it.

The gardens surrounding Bahjí are beautiful and extensive though, at this time of year, not complete (i.e. all four quadrants are there but not planted). Work was going on rapidly to plant the complete gardens ready for the spring. However, all too soon it was time to get back onto the bus and head to Haifa. As we approach the city, we can see the golden roof of the Shrine of the Báb standing out amongst the yellowish-grey of the buildings (yet it is not an unattractive city).

Several of the pilgrims leave the bus in the Hadar district and lunch on falafels (Israel's national dish) before climbing back up the "hill" to the Pilgrim House.

In the afternoon, we are taken up to the Seat of the Universal House of Justice to be greeted by the members of the House. What gentle men, and yet they exude such a power. For the first time, I see one of my fellow pilgrims in tears, overcome by the realization that this group of nine, when meeting, are the channel for God's work on earth here and now. Not something remote, in the past or inaccessible, but present, and talking with us just like any of our friends would. They are IT!

After the formal introduction, our chairs were moved away and the members of the House came down and greeted and spoke to us personally. It is so quiet and yet so powerful, this place, though in a totally different way from the shrines. There is absolutely no way I can express it.

Before you ask, no, I did not make it to Dawn Prayers.

Well, it is not just the Bahá'ís that are carving up the mountain! There are new roads and houses everywhere. Anyway, I finally manage to get to the Pilgrim House and to join my fellow pilgrims, Roderick and Brynhild, while we wait for the day's activities to start. Then it's down the Shifra Stairs (more steps – about 150 of them) and a short walk to the house of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, a small attractive house with steps leading up to the front door and surrounded by a beautiful garden. (Actually, small is somewhat comparative. You would be able to fit my croft cottage into the central room, probably twice over).

Inside it is cool and peaceful. We are to meet with 'Amatu'l-Bahá Rúhíyyih Khánum, Hand of the Cause of God and wife of the beloved Guardian. At 86 years old, she is still an indomitable lady. She speaks to us of the privilege of the Pilgrimage we are on and how, in years to come, there will be no visits to the insides of the Shrines. How tens of thousands of Bahá'ís will converge on Haifa every day. She speaks of teaching. How all we need to know to teach is that a new teaching has come, that it is good and comes from God, and that it was brought to us by Bahá'u'lláh. She speaks of her mother, May Maxwell, who was the first western martyr and who, praying for a son, was told by 'Abdu'l-Bahá that she would have a famous son. And she did – the son being her son-in-law, Shoghi Effendi. After her talk, she answered questions from the pilgrims and then, quite suddenly, it is over and we collect our belongings and are back out into the town and eat Shwarmi.

After our meal, we returned to the Pilgrim House and then set off to walk down the seven completed terraces below the Shrine of the Báb. These terraces are beautiful in their cleanness and their simplicity, and, of course, are also holy ground. We are able walk down and back up those steps which, some time in the future, will carry the kings and rulers of the world – and, my, they are some climb, those kings will need to be fit! From the steps we can see the start of the work on realigning Ben Gurion Street at the bottom of the mountain, a small effort compared with the work on the terraces. (I was told later that such is the way of the members of the House of Justice that the first people to walk down the terraces when they first opened were pilgrims, and that as they were leaving, they met the members of the House on their way down for their first look – where else would you find such humility in men who hold so much power?)

When we arrived back in the Pilgrim House we found the members of the International Teaching Centre waiting to talk with us. And then, almost as soon as they had gone Mr Furútan and Dr Varqá (the two other remaining Hands of the Cause of God) arrive and regale us with stories about Pilgrimage past and the Four Year Plan. Both speak with a strength which belies their age (Mr Furútan is 91). It is a privilege to be able to meet with these spiritual giants who are yet so humble.

I have just had 30 minutes absolutely alone in the Shrine of the Báb – what a bounty to be able to pray unrestrainedly in the presence of the Most Exalted, the Return of Christ Himself. I know it is the wrong Tablet but it was very much "with tears".

At four o'clock we were taken to the Archives building. Now I am not really interested in "museums" so had expected not to get as much from this visit as much as I should. And, in a way, my fears were realised, though that is my problem. Passing through the grand front entrance one enters the darkened, air conditioned interior of the building – and then the lights are turned on to show a most wonderful chamber, lined on the two longer sides with galleries. At the far end, there are three cabinets with their doors closed (all the cabinets are closed to protect their contents from light). It is to these that we are first led. They contain, from left to right, a photograph of Bahá'u'lláh, a triptych of paintings of Bahá'u'lláh (painted by a Christian artist) and a portrait of the Báb. For 30 minutes we are allowed to gaze on these portraits before the doors are, once again, closed to protect them.

What was my reaction? I really cannot say. In a way, it was a disappointment. The photograph, if one did not know better, could have been of any ordinary person. Granted it was taken only two weeks after an attempt on the life of the Blessed Beauty using poison. But it is, after all, just a photograph and cannot convey the full majesty of its subject. To my mind, the triptych said more of the artist than of the Subject. The main portrait had the Blessed Beauty in a typical "Christ pose" with one hand raised, pointing heavenwards, and the other indicating the earth. The (painted) portrait of the Báb was, on the other hand, exquisite. He is very slim, looks older than I imagined but very handsome with his green turban and bearded face.

What was it that impressed me most? It is difficult to say really, there was so much it was impossible to take it all in. But what I do recall quite vividly was the blood-stained fragment of the shirt that the Báb was wearing at the time of His martyrdom. Also, a rendering in Arabic script of the final lines of the Tablet of Visitation, the letters of which were made up from a minute script which was the whole of the Kitáb-i-Aqdas. Yes, it is a museum and, at times, I did feel I was just another visitor on yet another guided tour, looking at an array of precious artefacts from the past, but then something amazing would appear, such as the sword of Mullá Husayn, and it all seemed so real again. The other abiding memory will be, of course, the original Tablets of the Báb and Bahá'u'lláh and 'Abdu'l-Bahá, many of them exquisitely illuminated, at the request of the Greatest Holy Leaf, and the superb calligraphy of Mishkín-Qalam.

Today is going to be really full – all day in 'Akká and ending up at Mazra'ih.

So at 08:15 it was, once again, into the bus and off. To my delight the route took us through the old German Templar colony, where there is a house with the inscription "Der Herr ist nahe" (The Lord is nigh) over the door. Then we turned into Ben Gurion Street and – what a sight, such beauty as one looks back up the mountain towards the Shrine of the Báb and the newly planted terraces. It was our good fortune to be in the back of the bus and to be able to see this fantastic view.

The bus continued through the old city with is contrasting noise and dirt, past old building soon to pass into oblivion – under the relentless drive of "development" – to be replaced by more apartments.

After about 30 minutes we arrive at our destination, a tiny back street leading into the old walled city of 'Akká. By us is a steel covered wooden door – the Land Gate to the old penal city. Through the gate, one turns sharp left (a technique to slow down any invader who might manage to breach the gate) and then enters what at one time would have been the main street, a street like any other in an old Arab town (I expect). As today is the Muslim Sabbath so is quieter than usual (though far from quiet, none-the-less). A little way up the street, on the left, is the house used by the Azalís, from which they watched for visiting Bahá'í pilgrims whom they reported to the authorities so that they could be ejected from the city. By the side of the house is a small entrance which leads into the prison in which 'Abdu'l-Bahá was held for a night after some of the Bahá'ís (strictly against the orders of Bahá'u'lláh) murdered the Azalís. Later the murderers themselves were held here for several years. In front of us as we walk up the street is a mosque with a blue roof. It was here that 'Abdu'l-Bahá had a room in which he taught local people to read and write.

Turning to the left we pass through a market square and then there is the sea – but no longer with a high sea wall. It has been removed to give access to a marina. In the distance is the Sea Gate, but we will not pass through it at this time as it is still not Bahá'í property and is covered with garish "Coca-Cola" signs. We are told that St. Francis of Assisi once passed through the sea gate and stopped to prostrate him self, announcing to those present that one day the Glory of God would pass over that threshold. As we walk on, we enter the courtyard of the caravanserai where the Holy Family stayed for a short while after they were forced to leave the Most Great Prison (when it was required for barracks). My friend Brynhild tried buying a film here but they were adamant that is was 25 NIS and would not bargain.

The Most Great Prison is currently being excavated (what Bahá'u'lláh would have seen is only a very small part, there is as much again below ground as above, and they are still digging), so we were not able to see the cell of the Blessed Beauty. It's a pretty grim looking place but it is difficult to judge what it was like at the time of Bahá'u'lláh.

From the Most Great Prison it is only a short distance to the House of 'Abbúd. This is a comparatively small, attractive house, originally half of a pair of houses (the other belonged to 'Údí Khammar). We were privileged to enter the room originally inhabited by the Blessed Beauty and latter by 'Abdu'l-Bahá. The room cannot much larger than 15ft by 12ft and is the one in which the Kitáb-i-Aqdas was revealed. The other two main rooms were shared by the 26 members of the family and believers. And these rooms were even smaller than Bahá'u'lláh's. After the murder of the Azalís, 'Údí Khammar built a dividing wall to protect his family from the Bahá'ís but later, hearing that 'Abdu'l-Bahá could not marry because He had no place to live, he made available one of the rooms of his own house. In time, the Holy Family was able to move into 'Údí Khammar's half of the house, which was much roomier. Here Bahá'u'lláh had a room with a small balcony, from which He would address the believers gathered below.

So, having completed our first visit to 'Akká, we are carried to Mazra'ih, just a few miles south of Nahariyya and from which one can see the hills of Lebanon. This is the first of the mansions that the Bahá'u'lláh was able to move to after His imprisonment in the city was over and He was here for about two years. It is the house with the much photographed flight of stairs.

At the top of the stairs was a small ante-room with several rooms off it, the largest of which was occupied by the Blessed Beauty. And there in the corner is His bed – not a later one, but the very bed in which the Desire of my heart slept and woke. (I guess I should mention that nearly all the rooms we were seeing were laid our by the beloved Guardian, the reason being that many of the Bahá'í properties in the Holy Land were occupied by the Covenant Breakers, some right up to the mid-1950s. Much of the furniture and the pictures came later and were gifts from the believers to the World Centre.)

To my great delight, in the dining room there is the original calligraphy of Mishkín-Qalam of the picture which we have on the living room wall. It is all decorated in gold and red. What a bounty to be able to see this amazing work of art, created by a master craftsman – probably the best of his time.

The gardens around the mansion at Mazra'ih were still being planted but there were already many beautiful flowers and trees. Two Israeli girls watched us through the gate as we wander around the garden. I wonder what they are thinking – they make no effort to leave until we ourselves have to leave and, ensconced in our air conditioned bus, return to the bustle of Haifa.

Today I have had a glimpse of what all this is about.

There was no formal programme for the day so four of us were the guests of one of the staff of the World Centre for the day. After walking down 686 steps (or was it 586?—it's difficult to keep count.) I arrived at the Pilgrim House full of anticipation. At 10.30 we set off for 'Akká.

There has been a lot of work done in the city to try to make it more attractive to visitors but much of the old town must be similar to how it was when Bahá'u'lláh was here. Because we are not on a guided tour, we are free to wander around and are able to view the back of the Sea Gate (which does not have any "Coca- Cola" signs!). We wandered through the town and past fascinating shops selling spices, and selling everyday items like shoes etc. The streets are narrow and crowded, a contrast from the previous day. We stop to eat in a local cafe (20NIS + 4 for a drink). It is clean and the food is well prepared. Satisfied, we wandered back through the streets to the car and drove on to Bahjí.

I cannot describe the feeling of being able to pray at the Shrine. For 1½ to 2 hours I sat amongst the other pilgrims in solid personal prayer, and reading the prayers of Bahá'u'lláh. My one regret is that it is not possible to circumambulate the Shrine, at least not in the way one can with the Shrine of the Báb. I can only hope that my prayers will be answered. But it is mentally exhausting and by the time I came out, I was ready to collapse into a comfortable chair in the Pilgrim House. We drove back to Haifa, the pretty way, in threatening rain (though it did hold off).

In the morning, before going to 'Akká, I had briefly visited the Shrine of the Báb but, as it was open to visitors, was only able to read the Tablet of Visitation. This evening I decided to go back and this time was able to circumambulate the Shrine and pray at the threshold, but not for long. I am tired and find it difficult to concentrate. And then, once again, I circumambulate the Shrines and pray at the Shrine of 'Abdu'l-Bahá. Once more I pray to the Lord that my prayers will be answered, but I am so tired that I cannot stay for long and return to the Pilgrim House.