After `Abdu'l-Bahá's day yesterday in Fanwood, He spent the night (I guess at William Hoar's sanatorium).
Upon His return to New York, He spoke to a gathering of friends about the harm of intoxicating beverages and also related some historical stories to the friends. In the afternoon some Bahá'ís and inquirers visited Him in His room, one after the other. Among them was a socialist. `Abdu'l-Bahá said in part:
Tell the socialists that sharing of property and land in this mortal world is the source of strife and warfare but sharing and inheritance in the Kingdom is the cause of love and unity. If you put your efforts into understanding the precepts of the Kingdom instead of into acquiring worldly shares and rights, you will gain perpetual joy and happiness. The Kingdom of God is vast. He will give you whatever you desire and there will be no place for strife and conflict. Is this not preferable and more pleasing?
Each visitor with a particular interest was addressed similarly and each departed in joy."
ah--apparently we need to live more in the "Kingdom of God." Think of it--perpetual joy, no strife, our desires (presumably spiritual) realized.
Perhaps `Abdu'l-Bahá was thinking about health (having been to the sanatorium) when He made the comments about alcohol.
Where is the book with more details? What would our interests be and how would He address them?
|A later portrait of Juliet|
But oh! When we turn to Juliet's diary, on June 5, she writes about something that began on June 1:
"The Master has begun to pose for me. He had said: "Can you paint Me in a half hour?"
"A half hour, my Lord?" I stammered, appalled. I can never finish a head in less than two weeks.
"Well, I will give you three half hours. You mustn't waste My time, Juliet."
He told me to come to Him Saturday morning, 1 June, at seven-thirty.
I went in a panic. He was waiting for me in the entrance hall, a small space in the English basement where the light--not much of it--comes from the south. In fact I found myself faced with every kind of handicap. I always paint standing, but now I was obliged to sit, jammed so close to the window (because of the lack of distance between the Master and me) that I couldn't even lean back. No light. No room. And I had brought a canvas for a life-size head.
The Master was seated in a dark corner, His black 'abá melting into the background; and again I saw Him as the Face of God, and quailed. How could I paint the Face of God?
"I want you," He said, "to paint My Servitude to God."
"Oh my Lord," I cried, "only the Holy Spirit could paint Your Servitude to God. No human hand could do it. Pray for me, or I am lost. I implore You, inspire me."
"I will pray," He answered, "and as you are doing this only for the sake of God, you will be inspired."
And then an amazing thing happened. All fear fell away from me and it was as though Someone Else saw through my eyes, worked through my hand.
All the points, all the planes in that matchless Face were so clear to me that my hand couldn't put them down quickly enough, couldn't keep pace with the clarity of my vision. I painted in ecstasy, free as I had never been before.
At the end of the half hour the foundation of the head was perfect."
Now, we are engaged in one of the greatest stories of all times. . . . See next few installments!