Yet another Hand of the Cause was the revered Mullá
‘Alí-Akbar, upon him be the glory of God, the All-Glorious. Early in life, this
illustrious man attended institutions of higher learning and labored
diligently, by day and night, until he became thoroughly conversant with the
learning of the day, with secular studies, philosophy, and religious jurisprudence.
He frequented the gatherings of philosophers, mystics, and Shaykhís,
thoughtfully traversing those areas of knowledge, intuitive wisdom, and
illumination; but he thirsted after the wellspring of truth, and hungered for
the bread that comes down from Heaven. No matter how he strove to perfect
himself in those regions of the mind, he was never satisfied; he never reached
the goal of his desires; his lips stayed parched; he was confused, perplexed,
and felt that he had wandered from his path. The reason was that in all those
circles he had found no passion; no joy, no ecstasy; no faintest scent of love.
And as he went deeper into the core of those manifold beliefs, he discovered
that from the day of the Prophet Muhammad’s advent until our own times, innumerable
sects have arisen: creeds differing among themselves; disparate opinions,
divergent goals, uncounted roads and ways. And he found each one, under some
plea or other, claiming to reveal spiritual truth; each one believing that it
alone followed the true path—this although the Muhammedic sea could rise in one
great tide, and carry all those sects away to the ocean floor. “No cry shalt
thou hear from them, nor a whisper even.” [Cf. Qur’án 19:98]
Whoso ponders the lessons of history will learn that this
sea has lifted up innumerable waves, yet in the end each has dissolved and
vanished, like a shadow drifting by. The waves have perished, but the sea lives
on. This is why ‘Alí Qabl-i-Akbar could never quench his thirst, till the day
when he stood on the shore of Truth and cried:
Here is a sea with treasure to the
brim;
Its waves toss pearls under the great wind’s thong.
Throw off your robe and plunge, nor try to swim,
Pride not yourself on swimming—dive headlong.
(‘Abdu’l-Baha, ‘Memorials of the Faithful)
Its waves toss pearls under the great wind’s thong.
Throw off your robe and plunge, nor try to swim,
Pride not yourself on swimming—dive headlong.
