A Joyful Practice

FTWMI: Liminal, Lofty, & Rare Days – I March 1, 2023

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 19-Day Fast, Baha'i, Bhakti, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Ramadan, Religion, Suffering, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga, Yom Kippur.
Tags: Abdul-Baha, Baháʼí, Great Lent, Jack Hawley, James Kubicki, kriya yoga, Mrs. Corinne True, niyamas, Saint David's Day
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Many blessings to all, and especially to those observing Lent, Great Lent, St. David’s Day, and/or Ayyám-i-Há and the 19-Day Fast during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons! “Praising” is the word of the day.

For Those Who Missed It: This is an abridged, revised, and updated version of a 2021 post.

“‘There are yet others whose way of worship is to offer up wealth and possessions. Still others offer up self-denial, suffering, and austerities (purifications). Others take clerical or monastic vows, offering up knowledge of the scriptures. Some others make their meditation itself an offering.

 

‘Some offer up prana, the mysterious vital energy force within them. They do this through control of the breath, literally stopping their inhaling and exhaling.

 

‘Yet others abstain from food and practice sacrifice by spiritualizing their vital energy – that is, by figuratively pouring their own vital life force into the Cosmic Life Force. The whole point of all these various methods of sacrifice (worship) is to develop a certain mental attitude. Those who live with a truly worshipful attitude, whose whole lives are offered up for improvement of the world, incur no sin (no karmic debt).’”

 

– Krishna speaking to Arjuna (4.28 – 30) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley

 

Much of this last week has been devoted towards sacrifice and nourishment – specifically, nourishment that comes from sacrifice. I realize that, in the base case, most of us do not think of nourishment and sacrifice in the same heartbeat. Perhaps, if you are a parent without a lot of means, you have to sacrifice (go without) so that your child(ren) can eat and be nourished. But, in most other cases, “sacrifice” and “nourishment” seem to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. And they are… if we are only talking about the body. If, however, we are talking about the mind-body and the spirit within, then sacrifice and nourishment can sometimes go hand-in-hand. As we give up something, let go of our attachment, we bring awareness to how we are using our time, energy, and resources. We also bring awareness to the difference between need and desire. Finally, we find ourselves facing our greatest need/desire: the longing for belonging.

The desire to be (and feel) connected to something more than our (individual) self crosses cultural, socio-economic, and geographical boundaries. It crosses the barrier that is sometimes erected by language and age, religion and philosophy. It is, it seems, as much a part of being human as breathing… or eating. So, it might seem ironic that one of the ways in which people “feed” that need/desire to belong is to go without, to give something up. Yet, all of the major religions and philosophies have some ritualistic traditions that involve fasting and/or abstaining from certain behavior for a predetermined period of time. For certain Christians, that period is Lent (which is currently being observed by both Western and Eastern/Orthodox Christian communities). The Baha’i Faith community begins their own observation, the 19-Day Fast, at sunset on tonight.

I call these “liminal days;” because even though all days are transitional and threshold days on a certain level, these days are specifically designated by various traditions as in-between times. Not “regular” or “ordinary” days, but days when there is a heightened awareness of what’s to come and the need to be ready for what’s to come. While the customs and beliefs are different within these different traditions, people all over the world are actually preparing: Christians observe Lent to get ready for Easter; the Baháʼí community observes their fast as they prepare for a new year.

“The second wisdom is this: Fasting is the cause of awakening man. The heart becomes tender and the spirituality of man increases. This is produced by the fact that man’s thoughts will be confined to the commemoration of God, and through this awakening and stimulation surely ideal advancements follow.

 

Third wisdom: Fasting is of two kinds, material and spiritual. The material fasting is abstaining from food and drink, that is, from the appetites of the body. But spiritual, ideal, fasting is this, that man abstain from selfish passions, from negligence and from satanic animal traits. Therefore, the material fast is a token of the spiritual fast.”

 

– quoted from article entitled “The Divine Wisdom in Fasting – From Table Talks by Abdul-Baha” by Mrs. Corinne True, printed in Star of the West, Vol. IV (No. 18), dated Mulk 1, 69 (February 7, 1914)

 

For those who are not familiar: The Baháʼí Faith is a monotheistic faith that believes in the oneness of God and religion, as well as the oneness and nobility of humanity. The community believes that, historically, there has been a “progressive revelation of religious truth” which has been shared with the world through the voices of the prophets or Divine Messengers, known as “Manifestations of God” (which include “Braham, Krishna, Zoroaster, Moses, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Muhammad, and, in more recent times, the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh”). People within the faith are taught to honor the value of different religious and philosophical traditions as well as the value of education, especially in science (which is viewed by some faiths as being contrary to religion).

The Baháʼí calendar consists of 19 months, each with 19 days, and each month (and day) is named after an attribute of God. To maintain the integrity of the calendar, there are 4 – 5 intercalary days just before the final month. The final month, which begins tonight at sunset, is known as “‘Alá’” (“loftiness”). We often think of “lofty” as meaning something in a high or elevated position, a noble goal. When speaking of textiles, it is also something that is thick and resilient. Consider for a moment, that even those who are guided by a different calendar are spending this time focused on a higher, deeper, more resilient and lasting connection with the Divine (whatever that means to you at this moment).

Similar to Passover and Yom Kippur (in the Jewish tradition) and the holy month of Ramaḍān (in the Muslim tradition), the Lenten season and the 19-Day Fast contain elements of the Yoga Philosophy’s niyamās (internal “observations”) and also fall under the rubric that Patanjali calls kriyā yoga (“union in action”), which is a combination of the final three: tapas (“heat, discipline, austerity” and the practices that cultivate them); svādhyāya (“self-study”); and īśvarapraņidhāna (“trustful surrender to higher reality”).

“For this material fast is an outer token of the spiritual fast; it is a symbol of self-restraint, the withholding of oneself from all appetites of the self, taking on the characteristics of the spirit, being carried away by the breathings of heaven and catching fire from the love of God.”

 

– quoted from Selections from the Writings of ‘Abdu’l-Bahā (page 70)

 

On a purely physical level, fasting and/or abstaining from certain indulgences provide physical detoxification. When the elimination is done in order to achieve a higher, loftier, goal (than just physical detoxification), one can also experience mental (and sometimes emotional) detoxification. Mind-body purification is the practice of śaucāt (“cleanliness”), which is the first niyamā. A pure mind-body begins to cultivate non-attachment and a sense of peace, ease, and “contentment” – which is santoşā, the second niyamā.

In Chapter 17 of the Bhagavad Gita (Song of the Lord), which focuses on “The Path of Threefold Faith,” Krishna defines tapas (the third niyamā) as “to melt” and states, “‘The purpose of purification is not pain and penance, but to deliberately refine one’s life, to melt it down and recast in it into a higher order of purity and spirituality.’” Practices that cultivate this melting/refining experience are not easy. In fact, in most cases they can be detrimental when engaged without community; for the wrong purpose(s); and/or under the guidance of someone who is more focused on pain, punishment, and penance than on transcendence. In fact, the Gita specifically (and emphatically) reinforces the fact that these practices are not intended to be a form of self-punishment. They are not abusive – which is why every major religion has exclusions based on age and physical-mental conditions.

The fact that these practices/rituals are not intended to be abusive does not mean that they are not hard. In fact, they can be brutally challenging – which is part of the reason why (when practiced in community) people feel bonded by the experience. These challenging situations are also a great opportunity for self-study, which is the fourth niyamā. Svādhyāya is not only observing your reactions and responses to challenging situations, but also taking note of your reactions and responses to sacred text or – in the physical practice – how your body is moving (or not moving) through the poses.

Another element of self-study involves contemplating how one would react if they were in certain historical and/or biblical situations. For instance, the 40 days of Lent are meant to mirror the 40 days of prayer and fasting that Jesus experienced in preparation of the final betrayal, temptation, crucifixion, and resurrection. In sharing the wisdom of fasting, the Baháʼí teach about Moses and Jesus fasting for 40 days (and how those practices became Passover, Lent, and the holy month of Ramaḍān) and how “the Blessed Beauty [Bahá’u’lláh]” fasted when focused on receiving the teachings. To receive the teachings, each of the divine messengers or prophets had to completely and trustfully surrender to the Divine, which is īśvarapraņidhāna, the final niyamā.

“The word ‘lent’ comes from the Anglo-Saxon word lenten meaning ‘spring.’ In the spring people prepare the soil and plant seeds. In Lent, Christians do something similar, but in a spiritual way. Through fasting we clear the soil of our hearts, asking God to purify them and rid them of the weeds of sin. We prepare our hearts to receive the seeds of God’s Word, both scripture and the words God speaks to our hearts during prayer. We spend more time in prayer as we prepare for Easter, Christianity’s greatest feast.

 

The word ‘lent’ is also the past tense of the verb ‘to loan.’ During Lent we have the opportunity to realize that our lives are not our own. They are on loan to us from God. Saint Paul writes, ‘Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore glorify God in your body’ (1 Cor 6:19 – 20).”

 

– quoted from “March 1” in 2016 edition of A Year of Daily Offerings by James Kubicki S. J.

 

It would be nice if, once committed to the path, there was no hesitation or doubt and no attachments/aversions that lead to suffering. However, even when we look at the lives of people who whole-heartedly committed to a spiritual path, we find that the challenges of the path can try even the souls of saints, prophets, and mystics. Consider, for instance, the story of Saint David, whose feast day was today (March 1^st), and how his adherence to the path he chose wasn’t well-received by some of his followers.

Saint David was a 6^th century Welsh archbishop whose recorded death date is March 1, 589. Since he is the patron saint of Wales, as well as of vegetarians and poets, Saint David’s Day (March 1^st) is a big deal in Wales. People dress up in traditional clothing – sometimes with a bit of red; wear leeks and daffodils; and (traditionally) children participate in concerts and festivals.

Saint David was known for his pilgrimages; his strict adherence to disciplined discipleship; and his miracles. He was a descendent of Welsh (Celtic) royalty and, some say, that his mother was King Arthur’s niece. He founded at least 13 monasteries and was known to enforce a strict code of conduct among his brethren that included hard physical labor, regular prayers, a minimalist vegetarian diet, and great charitable works. Furthermore, the monks were required to practice such a severe form of non-attachment that they could not even refer to the Bible as “my book.”

Saint David is known, in Welsh as “Dewi Ddyfrwr” (“David the Water Drinker”), because of stories that he mostly consumed water and the occasional bits of bread, vegetables, leeks, and herbs – sometimes even standing in a cold lake and reciting Scripture. One of the miracles attributed to Saint David is that he survived his bread being poisoned by his brethren (who were tired of his challenging regime). Legend has it that the bread was split between the bishop, a dog, and a raven – the latter two dying wretchedly and almost instantaneously.

It is said that springs of water often appeared during important moments in Saint David’s life and that he was followed by a dove. It is also said that he raised a youth from the dead and cured the blindness of his teacher, Paulinus. However, the most well-known miracle associated with Saint David is that while he was giving a sermon at Synod of Llanddwei Brefi, people complained that they could not see or hear him. Instantly, the story goes, the ground rose up – so that all could see and hear him. Then, a dove landed on his shoulder. I’m not sure what he said during that sermon “on the mount”, but some of the words from his final Sunday sermon (in 589) are well-known and a portion have become a well-utilized saying in Welsh, a reminder of what is important: “Gwnewch y pethau bychain mewn bywyd.” “Do the little things in life.”

“Brothers and sisters, Be joyful, and keep your faith and your creed, and do the little things that you have seen me do and heard about. I on the third day of the week on the first of March shall go the way of my fathers. Farewell in the Lord.”

 

– based on “62. The Assembly of Mourners” in Rhygyvarch’s Life of St. David (circa later 11^th century)

Please join me today (Wednesday, March 1^st) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “02282021 Lofty and Rare Days”]

NOTE: Sundays during Lent are considered anniversaries of Easter and the Resurrection; therefore, they are not counted as days of penance.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, playlists, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)

ERRATA & CORRECTION: Today’s post originally identified March 1^st as a Monday, when it is clearly Wednesday. During the practices, I referred to yellow and green clothing, but left out the fact that many Welsh people would associate red with St. David’s Day.

### BELIEVE IN THE LITTLE THINGS ###