The fortress of Máh-Kú in northwestern Iran, where the Báb was imprisoned in 1847 and 1848. Photo courtesy of Médiathèque Baha’ie Francophone http://www.bahai-biblio.org.

 

Bahá’ís do not disbelieve in accounts of miracles found in the holy texts of other religions or in the ability of a Manifestation of God to perform them, although some of these accounts are actually symbolic expressions or metaphors for important spiritual occurrences.  After all, who can find them convincing or persuasive other than eye witnesses? And what do they have to do with a Manifestation’s divine mission? Even Pharoah’s priests were able to turn staffs into serpents in the presence of Moses, so apparently this power is not confined to God’s Messengers. As a result, Bahá’ís pay little attention to the personal accounts of believers or others of miracles by the Báb or Bahá’u’lláh.  They are given no special attention in our literature, but they are there.  

Here is an astonishing account of the Báb being physically present in two places at the same time. And, it was not witnessed by one of His followers, but by the warden of the castle where he was imprisoned in Máh-Kú, a man by the name of ‘Alí-Khán. You may find this story in The Revelation of  Bahá’u’lláh, Vol III, by Adib Taherzadeh.

~

… when the Báb was imprisoned in the castle of Mah-Ku, the warden of the Castle was a man named ‘All-Khan, who discharged his functions with the utmost severity and refused to allow any of the followers of the Báb to gain admittance into His presence. Shaykh Hasan-i-Zunuzi, one of the ardent disciples of the Báb, came to Mah-Ku, but was refused admission. Nabil-i-A’zam has recounted the following story as related by Siyyid Husayn-i-Yazdi, the amanuensis of the Bab:

‘For the first two weeks,’ Siyyid Husayn further related, ‘no
one was permitted to visit the Báb. My brother and I alone
were admitted to His presence. Siyyid Hasan would, every
day, accompanied by one of the guards, descend to the town
and purchase our daily necessities. Shaykh Hasan-i-Zunuzi,
who had arrived at Mah-Ku, spent the nights in a masjid
outside the gate of the town. He acted as an intermediary
between those of the followers of the Báb who occasionally
visited Mah-Ku and Siyyid Hasan, my brother, who would
in turn submit the petitions of the believers to their Master
and would acquaint Shaykh Hasan with His reply.   

‘One day the Báb charged my brother to inform Shaykh
Hasan that He would Himself request ‘Ali Khan to alter his
attitude towards the believers who visited Mah-Ku and to
abandon his severity. “Tell him,” He added, “I will
tomorrow instruct the warden to conduct him to this
place.” I was greatly surprised at such a message. How
could the domineering and self-willed ‘Ali Khan, I thought
to myself, be induced to relax the severity of his discipline?
Early the next day, the gate of the castle being still closed,
we were surprised by a sudden knock at the door, knowing
full well that orders had been given that no one was to be
admitted before the hour of sunrise. We recognised the
voice of ‘Ali Khan, who seemed to be expostulating with the
guards, one of whom presently came in and informed me
that the warden of the castle insisted on being allowed
admittance into the presence of the Báb. I conveyed his
message and was commanded to usher him at once into His
presence. As I was stepping out of the door of His
antechamber, I found ‘Ali Khan standing at the threshold in
an attitude of complete submission, his face betraying an
expression of unusual humility and wonder. His self-assertiveness
and pride seemed to have entirely vanished.
Humbly and with extreme courtesy, he returned my salute
and begged me to allow him to enter the presence of the Báb.
I conducted him to the room which my Master occupied
His limbs trembled as he followed me. An inner agitation
which he could not conceal brooded over his face. The Bab
arose from His seat and welcomed him. Bowing reverently,
‘Ali Khan approached and flung himself at His feet.
“Deliver me,” he pleaded, “from my perplexity. I adjure
You, by the Prophet of God, Your illustrious Ancestor, to
dissipate my doubts, for their weight has well-nigh crushed
my heart. I was riding through the wilderness and was
approaching the gate of the town, when, it being the hour of
dawn, my eyes suddenly beheld You standing by the side of
the river engaged in offering Your prayer. With
outstretched arms and upraised eyes, You were invoking
the name of God. I stood still and watched You. I was
waiting for You to terminate Your devotions that I might   
approach and rebuke You for having ventured to leave the
castle without my leave. In Your communion with God,
You seemed so wrapt in worship that You were utterly
forgetful of Yourself. I quietly approached You; in Your
state of rapture, You remained wholly unaware of my
presence. I was suddenly seized with great fear and recoiled
at the thought of awakening You from Your ecstasy. I
decided to leave You, to proceed to the guards and to
reprove them for their negligent conduct. I soon found out,
to my amazement, that both the outer and inner gates were
closed. They were opened at my request, I was ushered into
your presence, and now find You, to my wonder, seated
before me. I am utterly confounded. I know not whether
my reason has deserted me.” The Báb answered and said:
“What you have witnessed is true and undeniable. You
belittled this Revelation and have contemptuously
disdained its Author. God, the All-Merciful, desiring not to
afflict you with His punishment, has willed to reveal to your
eyes the Truth. By His Divine interposition, He has
instilled into your heart the love of His chosen One, and
caused you to recognize the unconquerable power of His
Faith.”‘

This marvellous experience completely changed the heart
of ‘All Khan. Those words had calmed his agitation and
subdued the fierceness of his animosity. By every means in
his power, he determined to atone for his past behaviour. ‘A
poor man, a shaykh,’ he hastily informed the Báb, ‘is
yearning to attain Your presence. He lives in a masjid
outside the gate of Mah-Ku. I pray You that I myself be
allowed to bring him to this place that he may meet You. By
this act I hope that my evil deeds may be forgiven, that I may
be enabled to wash away the stains of my cruel behaviour
toward Your friends.’ His request was granted, whereupon
he went straightway to Shaykh Hasan-i-Zunuzi and
conducted him into the presence of his Master.

~ 

Want to purchase this book? Go to http://www.grbooks.com/ or http://www.bahaibookstore.com/.

Image courtesy of Médiathèque Baha’ie Francophone  http://www.bahai-biblio.org

JO SAND

Bahá’í Teacher of Unity

 

Prehistory – A Farmer’s Compassion

 

The ancestors of Jo Sand’s maternal grandmother were Cherokee refugees traveling on the northern stream of Indian families on the Trail of Tears. As they passed through southern Illinois in the winter, many had already died from disease, exhaustion, and the cold.     

 

No one would let them rest on their journey, but drove them further along until one farmer near Marion took pity on them and allowed them to winter over on his farm, providing food, clothing and shelter. I was told that his name was Hubbard, and some took his name as a tribute to his merciful generosity.

 

Jo Sand was born Jo Ann Hubbard on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1933, in St. Louis, Missouri. 

 

Early years – Grandmother Hubbard

 

When Jo was an infant, her vision was precarious – her grandmother was told that the baby would soon be blind. Her grandmother applied a salve from an Indian remedy directly to the infant’s eyes, and it saved her vision, though her eyesight remained extremely poor in her life.

 

Her mother returned to New Orleans, and Jo was raised by her grandmother and aged grandfather. Jo said that the strength of character, faith, and guidance of her grandmother was the inspiration of her life, and learned her silent faith in God’s provision and service to the unfortunate and the poor from Grandmother Hubbard.

 

Growing Up 

 

Her father was Jewish, but she saw him only once- when she was ten years old.

 

When her grandmother died, her mother raised her for a few years until Jo was fifteen years old.

 

Marriages

 

Jo moved to Tacoma where she met and married a man named William van Buskirk, with whom she had her only child. Jo was soon left to raise her daughter, Kristine Lee, by herself. She earned enough money working as a bookkeeper to buy a small house on Cushman Avenue in Tacoma, and took courses at the University of Puget Sound.   

 

She subsequently married Ray Sand, and moved to Raymond, Washington. No children came from that marriage, and she moved back to Tacoma.

 

Community Action- MDC and Indian School

 

Jo went to work about 1967 at the local Community Action Agency in Tacoma, a part of President Johnson’s War on Poverty. The local, anti-poverty agency was then called Opportunity & Development Inc. (ODI), and was later reorganized as Metropolitan Development Council, directed by the brilliant William Seline. As its Finance Officer, she had a fundamental influence on the success of the agency and was responsible for not only its financial management and planning, but was instrumental in the conception, development, and operations management of the large number of anti-poverty and training projects of MDC. Many of them were pilot programs unique in the state or the nation, which became models for similar projects around the country, and were spun off into the community to become independent organizations contributing to the life and welfare of the area: Indian School, Gypsy Education, Law & Justice, Communications and Journalism, Infant Nutrition, Drug Addiction Treatment, Displaced Homemakers, Hispanic Employment and Education, Asian Community Services, Family Counseling… the list goes on and on. Her long-time boss and friend, Linsey Hinand, said, simply, “She was a genius.”

 

She was a natural teacher, and throughout her short life, trained and educated a large number of people in classrooms, workshops and seminars, and in small groups and individually. She seemed dedicated to promoting every good thing but herself.

 

One of her loves was Indian Teaching, and she was the primary grant planner for the original project that established the Tacoma Indian School Education Grant at the old Hawthorne school. She left MDC to devote more time to the Puyallup Tribe’s Indian School, and was working alone there late one night on her own time when she began to have a heart attack.

 

Bahá’í

 

Jo Sand became a Bahá’í in Tacoma, and served on its local Spiritual Assembly and on many committees and teaching projects.

 

Personal Benevolence

 

Jo Sand was an extraordinary person. I never knew her to work at only one job for long – she usually worked at two or more jobs. I once even estimated a year’s contribution in off-duty personal time to MDC alone, and was stupefied by the total. She worked late into the night on her own time on an endless variety of projects, and taught innumerable groups financial management, grant writing, and project planning. She gave her personal time to individuals to teach them planning, accounting, teaching English to refugees, and she helped people obtain their citizenship, get jobs, and buy their first homes.

 

She sponsored two Laotian refugees, and adopted the younger one, Tong Chanh, who later took the name, Mark Sand, in her honor.

 

And that was only some of those cases I knew about. She had asked me to be the Executor of her will, and in examining her papers, I discovered further evidence of a lifetime of throwing herself into perpetual service – letters thanking her for this or that help and assistance getting into school, jobs, counseling, services, and direction. She gave her money, her time, her energy, her talent, her knowledge and wisdom, and, ultimately, her life in service. I found a letter and a photograph of a 12 year old girl in India for whom she had been the principal support for years. I wrote to the last known address to tell the sad news. 

 

Death

 

Jo drove herself to the hospital when she began to have pains over her chest, and was placed immediately in Intensive Care.

 

I had been helping her work on a transportation planning project for Indian School at her house on Thursday, and promised to come back the next day to complete it. When I arrived at her home, she was not there, but she called later saying that she was in the hospital. When I got there, she was resting, so I didn’t wake her, but went to see her that evening. It was clear that she was in grave danger, and her life support and cardiac monitoring machines would go wild whenever she spoke or raised her arm. We went home, and received the call from her daughter that she had passed from this world about an hour after midnight, nine days after her 45th birthday.

 

The multitude of people who attended her funeral was an astonishing mix of humanity: there were people of every color and ethnic background. Every age, economic, educational and religious group seemed to be represented. The most striking thing about that human concourse was that every single person attending had come because she had done something directly for every one of them to make each of their lives better – they stood up spontaneously and recounted one after another, weeping unashamedly, of the difference that she had made in their lives.

 

Her mortal remains rest in the Old Tacoma Cemetery. The bronze plaque over her grave at the foot of a great oak says,

 

                                                                                              Jo Sand

                                                                               Bahá’í Teacher of Unity

 

 

 

 

Prepared by Loyd Myatt