Interfaith Statement by Amin Ghadimi of the Baha’i Faith

February 13, 2021

On October 8, 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, son of the founder of the Bahá’í Faith and his successor, spoke at Stanford University. After exile from his native Persia through the Ottoman Empire, and after decades as a prisoner in what is today northern Israel, he had headed out to America as an old man, past what would be retirement age in Japan today.

At Stanford, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called for peace. Describing his “keen sense of joy” as he spoke “in the home of science,” he presented a philosophy of international peace rooted in a philosophy of the scientific universality of existence: “Verily the origin of all material life is one and its termination likewise one,” he said. “In view of this fundamental unity and agreement of all phenomenal life, why should man in his kingdom of existence wage war or indulge in hostility and destructive strife against his fellowman?” Because all existence is unitary, so too should humanity be united.

The previous day, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had participated in what we today might call an interfaith gathering in Oakland. He spoke at the Japanese Young Men’s Christian Association at the Japanese Independent Church. “For a long time I have entertained a desire to meet some of the Japanese friends,” ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said. “This pleasure is now afforded me.” He reflected on how Japan “has achieved extraordinary progress in such a short space of time—a progress and development which have astonished the world.” 

‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke, as he did at Stanford, of peace. “Religion must be the cause of love. Religion must be the cause of justice,” he said. Extolling Jesus as a “unique Personage,” as one who “single and solitary … arose to train great and mighty nations,” he turned to his audience of Japanese Christians and asked, “For thirteen hundred years there has been warfare and hostility. What good result has been forthcoming? Is it not folly? Is God pleased with it? Is Christ pleased? Is Muḥammad?”

‘Abdu’l-Bahá made the same point he made at Stanford about science, but now about religion: because not only phenomenal but also spiritual reality is essentially unitary, we too will find harmony if we only think hard enough about existence: “If we abandon these timeworn blind imitations and investigate reality, all of us will be unified. No discord will remain; antagonism will disappear. All will associate in fellowship. All will enjoy the cordial bonds of friendship. The world of creation will then attain composure.” He called for a spiritual unity that would create peace, not a blind and ignorant unity but a unity that arose from careful rational thought and rigorous investigation.

It’s quite a striking statement. Some people might reject the notion that investigation of reality will necessarily lead to unity: wouldn’t it inevitably lead to divergent views, disagreement, conflict? Is spiritual reality really one? Is there even such a thing as spiritual reality?

I think ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was right that a recognition of the oneness of all phenomenal and spiritual existence not only should but will lead to peace, but maybe that wasn’t the only point he was making. I don’t know, but it seems from context that he was making a statement about the purpose of interfaith interaction in the first place. By himself speaking about “investigating reality” at an interfaith venue, he seemed to suggest that collaborative thought and inquiry with people of divergent traditions, free from the “blind imitations” of religious prejudice, itself engenders harmony and accord. The medium, like all media, was the message. 

There have been few if any times in our lives now, a century later, when the basic physical commonality of all people in all parts of the world has been more luridly, obscenely visible. “It’s all the same spit,” wrote one commentator early in the pandemic, punchily. This visibility of our global togetherness has made it increasingly impossible to conceal gross injustices of every kind, everywhere. And it’s also made it increasingly hard to overlook all the kindness, too, that has become scintillatingly, brilliantly apparent—the kindness, for example, of leaders of this interfaith group, who reached out to me during a dark winter here in Japan to say hello and ask how I’m doing.

That supernal kindness, transcending every barrier of contingent existence, arises when we come together in unity, not ignorant or neglectful of our differences of thought and belief but in search of those points of togetherness around which we can all coalesce. We urgently need material, scientific healing for the world today. Not all of us can administer that healing. But we each can strive toward and try to contribute to the sorts of spiritual healing to which this interfaith group is so admirably committed. As ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said in Oakland, “God has created all. He provideth for all. He is kind to all. Therefore, must we be kind to all.”