The Bahá’í World
Volume 2 : 1926-1928
HAIFA, ‘AKKÁ AND BAHJÍ
Excerpts from the Diary of
Keith Ransom-Kehler
(From Star of the West)
FIRST SERIES OF SKETCHES
SHIMMERING in the moonlight on a far horizon lie the lights of Haifa. It appears from here like some mysterious floating island that the transported mariner might pursue forever. It is impossible to see at night its attachment to the permanence of Mount Carmel, that rises there out of the sea like the earth’s backbone, insulating the spinal chord of history. The mighty Prophets passed over it like the nerve currents of humanity, quickening those portions whereunto they were directed. Tomorrow I shall climb that mountain to the Shrine of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, another symbol of man’s pilgrimage upward—“not to a tomb ever, but to a meeting-place with the spirit of Divine Beauty for transfiguration.”
Haifa! Five hundred passengers leave the Adriatic here. As I step from the tender with the rest of the throng a cordial voice cries, “Welcome, Mrs. Ransom-Kehler. I am so glad to see you.” In all that mass of humanity Fugeta, who had never seen me before, or my photograph, distinguished the Bahá’í pilgrims.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá came to America, H. S. Fugeta was a medical student at the University of Michigan. Like his famous forerunner who was short of stature, he climbed a sycamore tree to see the Master pass by. “Come down, Zachias, for this day I would sup with thee,” called the flute-like voice of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, and Fugeta relinquishing every human tie followed Him back to Mount Carmel to become a helper in the household.
I am greeted first by Fugeta, a child of Nippon, then by Isfendiar from the cradle of the race, and next by Effie Baker, fair, cameo-like, the first person in Australia to embrace this all-inclusive message. On, on, the irresistible tide of fellowship and good-will is carrying the soul of humanity to a new altitude of love, abnegation and service. Effie, with a self-effacement that only the love of God could give, reflects the spirit of the Holy Family in her work at the Pilgrim House. She comes out to embrace me with unaffected cordiality and to knit still closer those intangible bonds that will hold me to this sacred spot forever.
Lady Julian, the Anchoress of Norwich, has given such a stirring account of the curious vision under which she seemed to encounter reality! As I remember it, indistinctly, the universe lay in her hand like a small hazelnut and the overwhelming sense of the presence of God assured her: God loves it; God keeps it. . . . Of course it's ridiculous to say that God inheres in localities; let me put it conversely and say that it is unthinkable to me that any spiritually awakened soul could step on to the plain of ‘Akká without being acutely aware of that intensified exaltation and reverence that I always think of as constituting the “fear of God.” Ever since I had learned that ‘Akká fulfilled the Bible prophecy and become a door of hope for the nations, I had lived for the moment that would initiate me into its mystery.
It is like throwing flowers in the fire to attempt to describe the pilgrimage to
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