arthra

On the subject of humour a few excerpts might be interesting here:

Humour, happiness,joy are characteristics of a true Bahá'í life. Frivolity palls and eventually leads to boredom and emptiness, but true happiness and joy and humour that are parts of a balanced life that includes serious thought, compassion and humble servitude to God, are characteristics that enrich life and add to its radiance.

[1 On page 25 in the 1956 U.S. edition; on page 30 in the 1984 U.S. edition.]

(Compilations, The Compilation of Compilations vol. I, p. 53)


Their (those fanatically opposed to Baha'u'llah) first concerted endeavor was to obtain from the governor of Baghdad, Mustafa Pasha, through a gross distortion of the truth, an order for the extradition of Bahá'u'lláh and His companions, an effort which miserably failed.

Recognizing the futility of any attempt to achieve his purpose through the intervention of the local authorities, Shaykh Abdu'l-Husayn began, through the sedulous circulation of dreams which he first invented and then interpreted, to excite the passions of a superstitious and highly inflammable population.

The resentment engendered by the lack of response he met with was aggravated by his ignominious failure to meet the challenge of an interview pre-arranged between himself and Bahá'u'lláh. Mirza Buzurg Khan, on his part, used his influence in order to arouse the animosity of the lower elements of the population against the common Adversary, by inciting them to affront Him in public, in the hope of provoking some rash retaliatory act that could be used as a ground for false charges through which the desired order for Bahá'u'lláh's extradition might be procured.

This attempt too proved abortive, as the presence of Bahá'u'lláh, Who, despite the warnings and pleadings of His friends, continued to walk unescorted, both by day and by night, through the streets of the city, was enough to plunge His would-be molesters into consternation and shame.

Well aware of their motives, He would approach them, rally them on their intentions, joke with them, and leave them covered with confusion and firmly resolved to abandon whatever schemes they had in mind.

~ Shoghi Effendi, God Passes By, p. 141

"Unless one accepts dire vicissitudes he will not attain. To me prison is freedom; troubles rest me; incarceration is an open court; death is life and to be despised is honor. Therefore, I was happy all that time in prison. When one is released from the prison of self, that is indeed freedom, for self is the greater prison. When this release takes place, one can never be imprisoned. They used to put my feet in stocks so,"

and he put out his feet before him to illustrate and laughed as though it were a joke he enjoyed.

~ Abdu'l-Baha, Divine Philosophy, p. 21


"Don't cry, Juliet," He (Abdul-Baha) said. "This is no time for tears. Through
tears you cannot see to paint."

I tried hard to hold back my tears and to work, but painting that
day was at an end for me.

The Master smiled lovingly.

"Juliet is one of My favourites because she speaks the truth to me.
See how I love the truth, Juliet. You spoke one word of truth to
Me and see how I have praised it!"

I looked up to smile in answer, and in gratitude, then was
overwhelmed again by that awful convulsive sobbing.

At this the Master began to laugh and, as He laughed and laughed,
the strangest thing happened. It was as if at each outburst He
wrapped Himself in more veils, so that now He looked completely
human, without a trace left of His superhuman majesty. Never had
I seen Him like this before and I never did afterward.

"I am going to tell you something funny," He said, adding in
English, "a joke".

"Oh tell it!" we begged; and now I was in a sort of hysteria,
laughing and crying at the same time.

"No. Not now. Paint."

But of course I couldn't paint.

Later, walking up and down, He laughed again.

"I am thinking of My joke," He explained.

"Tell it!" we pleaded.

"No, I cannot, for every time I try to tell it I laugh so I cannot
speak."

We got down on our knees, able at last to enter into His play, and
begged Him, "Please, please tell us." We were laughing on our
knees.

"No. Not now. After lunch."

But, alas, after lunch He went upstairs to His room, and we never
heard the Master's joke.

From the The Diary of Juliet Thompson

cire perdue

I guess somewhere I knew those storied, b/c have read the DAIRY. It is so appropriate for me right now. Bless YOUfor posting these! LOL< LOL>LOL
Years ago I said, oh I won't read the Diary again and gave it away. Now I can read it online!!!!!!!!!

aidan

Arthra please have you a link for the diary?

cire perdue

Diary of Juliet Thompson

arthra

Then we sat in the two chairs by the window: knee to
knee, eye to eye. At last He looked right into me. It was
the first time since our eyes had met with His first beckoning
gesture that this had happened. And now nothing
intervened between us and He looked at me. He looked
at me! It seemed as though never before had anyone
really seen me. I felt a sense of gladness that I at last was
at home, and that one who knew me utterly, my Father,
in truth, was alone with me.

As He looked such play of thought found reflection in
His face, that if He had talked an hour not nearly so much
could have been said. A little surprise, perhaps, followed
swiftly by such sympathy, such understanding, such overwhelming
love-it was as if His very being opened to
receive me. With that the heart within me melted and the
tears flowed. I did not weep, in any ordinary sense. There
was no breaking up of feature. It was as if a long-pent
stream was at last undammed. Unheeded, as I looked at
Him, they flowed.

He put His two thumbs to my eyes while He wiped
the tears from my face; admonishing me not to cry, that
one must always be happy.

And He laughed. Such a
ringing, boyish laugh. It was as though He had discovered
the most delightful joke imaginable: a divine joke which
only He could appreciate.

I could not speak. We both sat perfectly silent for
what seemed a long while, and gradually a great peace
came to me. Then 'Abdu'l-Bahá placed His hand upon
my breast saying that it was the heart that speaks. Again
silence: a long, heart-enthralling silence. No word further
was spoken, and all the time I was with Him not one
single sound came from me. But no word was necessary
from me to Him. I knew that, even then, and how I
thanked God it was so.

Portals To Freedom pp. 32-33
By HOWARD COLBY IVES

cire perdue

Thank you Arthra..........

ARE you related to Mothra? That would be a fun relative. You could flying with it, but I'd want off before it flew into a volcano attracted to the light...........

arthra

Yes Mothra and I go back a few years..



The everlasting Candle shineth in its naked glory. Behold how it hath consumed every mortal veil. O ye moth-like lovers of His light!

~ Baha'u'llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha'u'llah, p. 321

cire perdue

We are just too funny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you. I only remember Mothra from the original b & w movie I saw in the 1950's. Great laugh..........