Don and George were on their break at work. Both were new to their jobs, though Don had been there a little longer. With his experience, Don was helping George get oriented to the social structure of the place. What social cliques Don had noticed, and who to avoid if at all possible, who were the favorites of their supervisors, and who were seething underneath their facade of friendliness. Don had already been burned more than once and wanted to spare the new guy as much of that as possible.
They seemed an unlikely pair. Don was an actuary while George was in I.T. George was madly into sports while Don wasn’t even sure what letters like NFL meant, and didn’t care. He’d grown up in a family with no interests in sports and he didn’t see any point in adults wasting their time that way. Both were married, with children, and found a lot of commonality there, plus being the newest members of the staff.
George had mentioned some preparations for Christmas that he and his wife had begun and asked George what he was doing.
“We don’t do Christmas,” Don answered.
“What do you mean?” George asked in bewilderment. “You don’t ‘do‘ Christmas?”
“Just that,” Don replied. “We don’t do Christmas. We don’t do a tree; we don’t do decorations. We don’t do presents…”
“Not even for your children?”
“Not at Christmas, that’s not when we give gifts.”
“But you give them gifts?”
“Yes, but not at Christmas.”
“Then when?”
“At Ayyám-i-Há, near the end of the year.”
“So, you do it right after Christmas?”
“No. Not the end of that year. That’s the end of the Gregorian year. Ayyám-i-Há comes at the end of the Bahá’í year.”
“The what?”
“Bahá’ís have a new calendar. People begin counting time again with each Messenger of God. The Gregorian calendar begins with the time of Christ. The Islamic calendar begins with the time of Muhammad. The Jewish calendar begins…..”
“What’s that year you said?”
“The Bahá’í calendar dates from the Herald of the Bahá’í Faith, in 1844. It has nineteen months of nineteen days each. The last month of each year is devoted to fasting and personal renewal for the new year which begins with the first day of spring. Ayyám-i-Há is four, or five days, depending on the leap year, they come just before the month of fasting. They are devoted to hospitality, philanthropy and things like that.”
“Gift giving?”
“Yes, especially for the children, and parties,” Don added.
“Sort of like Carnival, before Lent?”
“There are some similarities,” Don replied. “But not such excess as that. And, certainly no alcohol. Ayyám-i-Há focuses more on fellowship, charity, and service. My family will decorate our house with streamers and balloons and electrical decorations, and…”
“What do you mean: ‘electrical decorations’?”
“They are colored bits of glass that light up inside when you plug them in.”
“Huh?”
“Most people call them ‘Christmas lights,’ but colored glass and electricity have no religious affiliation, so they can be used any time, but most people don’t.”
“You’re weird.” George shook his head.
“Not any more weird than pleading for the sun to return each year.”
“What?”
“That’s what Christmas is, don’t you know?”
“It is not!”
“Christmas is Roman Saturnalia that was repurposed by the Christian church in the 300s to keep new pagan converts to Christianity content by letting them continue their winter solstice parties to plead for the sun to return for another year. Human sacrifices were deleted, though.”
“WHAT?”
“It was a thing pagan priests made up in order to control the population. If you didn’t give up something precious, such as a child, why would the sun bother to return, if you didn’t value the sun more than the child? And the priest had control over it all.”
“That’s insane! That has nothing to do with Christmas.”
“Not Christmas now,” Don replied. “It’s just been so long ago that no one remembers, and people with a vested interest in the myth and power keep the myth going. Celebrating the birth of Christ, even though there is no evidence of Him being born in December, is harmless enough. And it is a good thing, but words in the Gospel are against it.”
“What?”
“Shepherds don’t sleep outside in December, in the Middle East. I’ve been there in winter. It is cold and wet, and no one wants to sleep outside then. There’s no reason to. Shepherds did, and still do, sleep outside in the spring when baby animals are born. They sleep out with their flocks to assist with the birthing and to protect the newborns from predators.”
“So, what’s all this have to do with what you do?”
“We avoid all that. Ayyám-i-Há isn’t attached to any previous customs or rituals; it’s not carrying any historical baggage, so people from every culture can embrace it equally.”
“Oh.” George had never thought in those terms.
“Ayyam-ee-ha’ refers to ‘days of five.’ The Arabic letter, Há, has a numerical value of five. There are a maximum of five days of Ayyám-i-Há because they adjust for leap years. Also, a five-pointed star is the symbol of the Bahá’í Faith, and the human body, with arms, legs and head, has five points. It’s sometimes used in Bahá’í scripture to refer to the essence of God, that unnamable, unknowable essence that is God.”
“Well,” George was surprised by all this information.
“The days of Ayyám-i-Há are days outside of any month,” Don continued. “And they are devoted, as I said, to philanthropy, parties, often with a potluck meal, giving gifts, mostly to the children, and service projects.”
“Well, that sounds good.”
“We try to be.
“You do all this in one day?”
“Ayyám-i-Há is more than one day. The number of days in Ayyám-i-Há varies in order to balance out the leap years; as such, they are also known as Intercalary Days. Some years there are four days, some years, five.”
“Oh, right,” George nodded. “And, you keep track of all this?”
“Well, the Bahá’í community does, yes. We get used to it. We have a community consultation the first of every Bahá’í month, called the Nineteen Day Feast.”
“So, you eat a lot,” George perked up; food was always an attraction for him.
“It’s a different kind of feast,” Don explained. “It’s more of a spiritual feast, though there are refreshments. It opens with a devotional session to set the tone and centre the community together. The main purpose is consultation within the Bahá’í community, a business meeting actually. Taken together, the three parts center Bahá’í community life around devotions, consultation for action and fellowship.”
“Oh,” George said in a dull voice. No business meeting was high on his list of favourite activities.
“They’re not boring,” Don added. “This consultation has been called the ‘arena of democracy,’ where the light of truth is evident after the clash of different opinions. The devotional session preceding it creates an elevated atmosphere. When everyone participates and contributes, you begin to look forward to them. Once you get into the rhythm of it on the calendar, you begin to expect it.”
“So, you ignore the birth of Jesus?” George returned to Christmas.
“Well, since no one knows when His Holiness the Christ was born, and, with the Bahá’í teachings of the unity of God and the unity of God’s Messengers, we can see them all as one. The same Spirit moved through all the Messengers, or Manifestations, of God. Bahá’í scripture says: ‘If thou be of the inmates of this city within the ocean of divine unity, thou wilt view all the Prophets and Messengers of God as one soul and one body, as one light and one spirit…’ But Bahá’ís can join with family or others who celebrate Christmas. In fact, doing so helps strengthen bonds of unity.”
“That’s different,” George commented. “So, one prophet-messenger isn’t more special than another?”
“Right,” Don agreed. “Seeing them all motivated by the same Spirit, from the same Divine Source, with the same purpose, providing one continuous stream of Divine Education, they are one. Bahá’í scripture states: ‘No distinction do We make between any of His Messengers.’ For they, one and all, summon the people of the earth to acknowledge the unity of God, and herald unto them the Kawthar of an infinite grace and bounty. They are all invested with the robe of prophethood, and are honoured with the mantle of glory.’
“That’s pretty definite,” remarked George.
“So,” Don continued. “It’s logical to consider that we honour them all when we honour one. So we celebrate the birth of Christ when we honour and celebrate the births of the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh, twin Manifestations for this age. We are also at the same time honouring the birth of the Buddha, the birth of Abraham, of Moses, Muhammad, and all the others; even those with no historical record. God has been sending Manifestations to guide the human race from the time of Adam.”
“That’s like, forever,” George was amazed that the confusion of religions, for the first time, made sense to him.
“As far as humanity is concerned, yes,” Don agreed, then continued. “And people made separate religions out of the teachings of the different Messengers. One sun gives light to the Earth, but it rises at different points along the horizon. The Messengers are different points along the horizon of humanity, but it is the same Divine Light that shines through them.”
“That makes sense,” George remarked in a lightbulb moment.
“Adam was the first Messenger. He taught humans that we were different from animals by naming animals. You can only name and identify something if it is different from you. Adam said we were not animals. How many thousands of years ago was that? And some people still think we’re animals? Humans are far more than that. We are noble, spiritual beings.”
“Wow,” George remarked. “I never thought of that.”
“Bahá’í scripture clearly states: ‘Noble have I created thee, yet thou hast abased thyself. Rise then unto that for which thou wast created.”
“Wow.” Don was thoughtful. “So, I’m not a sinful wretch?”
“Nope. Not you. Not me. Not anyone. Now, that doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes. But mistakes are a way of gaining knowledge. A method of learning. Not the easiest method, but a method nonetheless. Humans are designed to learn, to explore, to discover. Mistakes are part of the learning process.”
“I never thought of that.”
“And why would the Almighty Creator, who loves us and created us to learn, then condemn us for making a mistake as we learn? That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t.”
“Oops,” Don said suddenly. “My break time’s up. I gotta go.” He stood up and picked up his stuff.
“Mine is too, then,” George agreed, and did the same. “Just the same, I have to admit, it all sounds kind of strange.”
“Strange because it’s different,” Don added. “Two thousand years ago, the name Jesus sounded strange and unusual to the Romans, and they looked down on the weird Christians. But, in the past two thousand years, people have gotten used to the name. It just takes time.”
“I guess you’re right, there,” George had to agree. “See you tomorrow.”
“As long as you don’t mind being associated with such a weirdo as me,” Don joked.
“Not a problem,” George laughed. “As long as you look normal, people will think you’re normal.”
“Okay,” Don agreed. “I’ll do my best. We can talk about this more, if you want.”
They started to leave the room.
“Oh, wait!” Don said, stopping suddenly. “This is late notice, but tonight Inter-Faith Now is sponsoring a non-Christmas party for the children of Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Bahá’í and other families. Anyone is welcome to attend. You can bring your family, if you like, and see what an alternative looks like.”
“I’ll need to talk to my wife, but I don’t think we have anything planned.”
“Great. It’s at the mosque this year. Last year the synagogue hosted and the Hindu temple before that. Different places take turns.”
“That’ll be interesting,” George said as he resumed walking to the door. “I may have to convince my wife.”
“It will be educational,” Don replied. “No one will try to force anything on anyone.”
“It sounds interesting,” George replied. “Yes, I think I’d like that. I’ve learned a lot, and it all makes sense,” George concluded. “See, you.”
“You too.”
The two went their separate ways, thinking of their own side of the conversation and what they had learned.
“You were able to make it,” Don said later that evening as he stood up in the mosque’s multi-purpose room. He greeted George as he walked in, accompanied by a woman and three children.
“We decided it would be a good experience for us all to learn a little more,” George replied. “This is my wife, Anita. Anita, this is Don from work. The Bahá’í I was telling you about.”
“Glad to meet you,” Anita said as they shook hands. “You’ve been trying to convert my husband, I hear.”
“Only if he wants to be converted,” Don replied. “We don’t really do that. The person has to make the change themselves.”
“We’ve not gone anywhere near there,” George replied with a grin. “And these are my kids: James, Sylvia, and Peter.”
The children stood close to their parents and looked around with wide eyes.
“Good to meet you,” Don said as he shook hands with each one of George’s children.
They found seats at one of the tables that filled the room and looked around. There was a bookcase with words on the spines in English and some other script which they learned was Arabic. A few plaques on the walls were also in Arabic, but stylised to be decorative. A map of the Middle East and a photo of a place with a large black structure in the centre. They were told this was the mosque in Mecca.
“Welcome to our mosque, everyone,” said a man who came to stand in the middle of the room, holding a microphone. “I am Imam Albert, the prayer leader here. Thank you all for coming. We’re glad to have you. This is the fifth year Inter-Faith Now has hosted this alternative party. We have Muslims here, of course, a few Jews, a couple of Hindus and Buddhists, some Bahá’ís and other guests I don’t know. I don’t have to know you to welcome you.”
“We have some games planned,” he continued, “And treats and refreshments this evening. We’ll do all the activities in this room, because the prayer hall is reserved for prayer. If anyone wants to go there and pray, you are welcome to do so; just be respectful of anyone praying there. Sister Larita will tell you about the first game.”
It was a guessing game that involved all the children from about age three and up. The adults could only observe. After three more games, they served refreshments. During the last two games, everyone had to move around and sit with someone they didn’t know so they could visit and get to know each other better. George, Anita, and their children were scattered among the rest, all engaged in talking with new friends. The evening ended and they all went their separate ways home.
“That was an interesting party last night,” George greeted Don the next day at work during their break.
“I thought you and your family might enjoy it,” Don replied. “Did your kids meet anyone they want to keep in touch with?”
“Actually, yes. Sylvia and Peter did. I don’t know about James, though.”
“That’s okay. They all learned something anyway.”
“They sure did. Anita was especially impressed,” George said. “At one point, she looked around and asked me, in a whisper so no one else could hear, if everyone there was a terrorist. No, I told her. No one here is a terrorist and I mentioned the security cameras I’d seen outside. They didn’t want terrorists either.”
“Was she able to finally relax?”
“Yes, in the last game she sat next to a Muslim woman and a Buddhist man. They discovered they had a lot in common. It was an eye-opener for her.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Don said.
“What else does this interfaith group do?”
“They sponsor a Thanksgiving service every year on the weekend before Thanksgiving. Different faiths share something from their tradition; not the same faiths each year, so there is a variety. During the winter, they sponsor a film festival at the city library. They have three or four films, each about or from a different tradition. In the spring, they plan a singing convention. It’s usually held in a large church or auditorium, and they sing songs, hymns, and chants from different traditions.”
“Anita and James would like that,” George said, nodding. “So, how can my family and I get involved?”
A whole new world opened up to George. He would never be the same again.
