"Divine things are too deep to be expressed by common words. The heavenly teachings are expressed in parable in order to be understood and preserved for ages to come. When the spiritually minded dive deeply into the ocean of their meaning they bring to the surface the pearls of their inner significance. There is no greater pleasure than to study God's Word with a spiritual mind." - Abdu'l-Baha, Abdu'l-Baha in London, p. 79 Today, dear reader, I've got a yen to wax lyrical about the title of my blog. Sure, it's catchier than a cold, I hear you say. But does it mean anything? Well, yes actually. It means everything.
My personal connection to pearls goes way back to early childhood. When I was 5 years old, my socially-ambitious mother used to dress me up like a little doll and take me to the ballet. There, in my Mary Jane shoes and very own miniature string of pearls, I was encouraged to behave like a 'proper lady' - which I soon discovered meant stifling my naturally loud laugh and sitting still for long periods of time with my knees together.
Though I loved the performers and the music, I found the whole foyer scene with its champagne-flute-clinking 'ladies' loudly showing off their own daughters deeply unsettling. I remember one little girl my age swanning about in a fur coat. I'm not joking; it was surreal. Influenced by my father's atheism and my own precocious imagination, I must have unconsciously associated all this artificiality and excess with religion, because I decided that all ballet patrons coupled pearls with masks of 'Just fine, thank you" for obligatory trips to some soulless church every Sunday. From then on, in my cynical little mind at least, pearls somehow became the jewel of choice for the privileged and the self-righteous. Amazing the stories children come up with.
Years later on my 25th birthday, by which time life had introduced me to a very different perspective on religion and found me actively investigating the Baha'i Faith, a dear friend presented me with a gift. It was a pair of raw pearls; earrings she'd lovingly fashioned just for me. They were crafted them so simply, so thoughtfully, that I couldn't help appreciating them. Slowly but surely, pearls started to grow on me, while at the same time the Holy Writings I was earnestly devouring were causing pearls to grow in me. Just a few short months after that birthday, I officially declared as a Baha'i and today, I wear pearls all the time. In fact, just now I reached up to my earlobes and realised that I'm unwittingly wearing those very earrings as I type these very words. Seriously. Cross my heart.
Finally, as if all that's not enough, I recently discovered that my middle name, so called after my paternal grandmother, can be translated from its French origins...as Pearl! I guess this is not particularly exciting unless you know that my first name means Wisdom. When I asked my parents if this was intentional, they smiled with genuine surprise and promised it was a coincidence. So. My name literally means Wisdom Pearl. Pearl of wisdom.
I'm hoping to grow into it over time.
Baha'u'llah, the Prophet and Founder of the Baha'i Faith, refers to pearls prolifically in His Writings - as you can no doubt see from the selections I've dotted around this page. They are used as a metaphor for all manner of spiritual riches and divine mysteries:
"My holy, My divinely ordained Revelation may be likened unto an ocean in whose depths are concealed innumerable pearls of great price, of surpassing luster." -Baha'u'llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha'u'llah, p. 325
Why allude to pearls, I have wondered. Why not some costlier, more coveted gemstone like diamonds; emeralds, rubies? When I consider how pearls are formed, a layperson's theory emerges. Pearls are forged deep in the sea when a tiny parasite becomes trapped in an pearl oyster. Irritated by this, the oyster coats the intruder with a special substance to relieve its discomfort. This occurs again and again, over months, years, sometimes even decades until ultimately, from an initially painful and unwelcome experience, a gorgeous, unique pearl results. It is not an overnight matter. It requires action on the part of the sea creature, full immersion in the ocean, and time.
In this, Baha’u’llah has provided such a exquisite way to think about spiritual growth. The Baha'i teachings clearly prescribe cultivating a life of disciplined daily action: reverent study of the Holy Writings morning and night (immersing oneself in the ocean) plus prayer, mediation and loving acts of service to others. For Baha'i's, this formula provides not only relief from the pain of spiritual atrophy, but is also the key to unlocking the gems of true understanding that God has hidden within us; Her precious pearls of wisdom:
"Ye are My treasury, for in you I have treasured the pearls of My mysteries and the gems of My knowledge." - Baha'u'llah, The Arabic Hidden Words
When I became a Baha'i at the age of 25, the cycle of pain, followed by action, followed by growth was certainly not a new one. However, never before have I felt both the agony and ecstasy of spiritual maturation more intensely than in the past two years. Every day I practice as a Baha'i - and I do mean practice - I become a little richer in acceptance and detachment. Like real pearls, triumphs over self are not won without discomfort, effort, sacrifice and patience. This is doubtlessly why they are so valuable:
"...this station is the pearl of human consummation, the shining star toward which human destiny points. Practice the teachings of Baha'u'llah, and day unto day you will draw nearer the supreme horizon." - 'Abdu'l-Baha, Divine Philosophy, p. 99
My heart's desire is to become ever more willing to relinquish those things that block me from God and I want to hear how others, Baha'i's and non-Baha'i's, experience this alchemical process. I hope that as time passes, this page will become a place where people from the far corners of the earth can come to drop their own pearls into the deep blue; a little ocean that bears - and bares - the gems of God's Word.
Coming soon - What's In A Name? Part 2: The Formative Age
