The Seven Valleys was written by Bahá’u’lláh near the 1860s. In it He
responds to questions from a certain Shaykh Muhyi’d-Din, who at one
point was a judge in the town of Khániqih. This Shaykh was a member of
the Qadiri order of Sufis, who follow the mystical teachings of Shaykh
Abdu’l-Qadir Jilani and his spiritual descendants. We know only that he
asked Bahá’u’lláh about the meaning of certain mystical poems, to which
the Seven Valleys was Bahá’u’lláh’s response. The actual questions he
asked are not known.
This text is a mystical composition of the highest order. Singled out
by Shoghi Effendi, Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith, as Bahá’u’lláh’s
“greatest mystical composition”, it provides a commentary on an
earlier work of Sufi poetry, The Conference of the Birds, by
Farídu’d-Dín `Attár.
The style of the Seven Valleys is highly poetic, though not composed in
verse. Nearly every line of the text contains rhymes, and plays on
words, which are mostly lost in translation. In addition to these
subtleties there are also historical and religious connotations that are
equally difficult to translate. It was a common practice for Sufis to
communicate by using only one or a few words to refer to Qur’anic
verses, traditions, and well-known poems. The language of the Seven
Valleys refers to this wealth of knowledge possessed by its recipient
without stating its meaning verbosely. As a result, those reading the
text who have no background in Islam or Sufism will find many of its
references confusing, and some of the sentences perhaps devoid of
meaning. Each word, however, is rich with shades of meaning that become
apparent upon deeper examination.
The recipient of the text was a Sufi, conversant with the doctrines of
Qádirí Sufism, and possessing knowledge of the previous works
Bahá’u’lláh responds to. It is no wonder that an economy of words is
used between two men who knew their subject matter in depth. This
implied knowledge, however, is greatly lost to the Western reader –
even more so when rendered in the English idiom. It would require
constant footnotes to alert the reader to all the key phrases that
appear in this text. In English, these phrases have no more
significance than others; yet where Bahá’u’lláh uses a term like
“maqaam-i-tuwhiid”, it is no less important than “resurrection” or
“salvation” would be to a Christian. Specific words conjure whole
bodies of context – yet this conjuration is absent in translation.
Briefly, Sufism is a branch of Islam which seeks to know of God
directly, through ecstatic, mystical union.
Wouldst thou that the mind should not entrap thee?
Teach it the science of the love of God!
“The purpose of the Sufi is to seek union with God through ecstasy.”
The nature of this union differs among Sufis, some believing they become
co-eternal with God’s essence (Hulúlis), others that they merely become
absorbed in the immanence of His Manifestation (such as when a drop
merges with the sea).
The Sufi discipline is one of purification (tazkíyyih) and remembrance
(dhikr). Prayer, meditation and fasting are key. Some also practice
asceticism. The purpose of these practices is to draw the interests of
the self away from the world and toward God. In this way, divine love
is enkindled:
“Show us the right way, that is, honor us with the love of Thine
Essence, that we may be freed from turning toward ourselves and toward
all else save Thee, and may become wholly Thine, and know only Thee,
and see only Thee, and think of none save Thee.”
By this love all things are burned away, leading to state of
self-annihilating ecstasy. This condition is increased until the lover
loses all consciousness of self (faná), and becomes “nothing in God”.
When this is achieved, the seeker experiences eternal union (baqá),
which is an abiding, conscious experience of the Divine.
During this process, the seeker’s vision and experience of the world
change dramatically. The way he perceives and understands events
progressively deepens:
Thus it hath been made clear that these stages depend on the vision of
the wayfarer. In every city he will behold a world, in every Valley
reach a spring, in every meadow hear a song.
Sufis are guided along this journey by their joy. As they experience
happiness and ecstasy, they believe themselves to be moving in the right
direction. It is sometimes referred to as a science of taste (dhawq),
where actions are measured by the visceral experiences they produce.
Sufism might be called the Way of Love, as expressed by one of its more
famous teachers, Rabi’a:
I love Thee with two loves: love of my happiness and perfect love –
to love Thee as is Thy due.
This love produces a spiritual heat, which is fanned into flame to
consume the veils of self, allowing the soul to transcend its
limitations and achieve union with God. Once found, the soul has
attained “the next life”, and thus Sufis speak more about the
distinction between self and God than they do this world and an
afterlife. For them, both worlds are wrapped up in the seeker.
Bahá’u’lláh introduces many changes to this scheme. The path of Sufism,
as a Way of Love and approaching God through ecstasy, can be found in
Bahá’í teachings, but with these differences:
Religious law (shari’ah) is never optional. They are necessary even
to those who can “taste” the nearness of God. This is partly
because the importance of society’s welfare is never beneath that of
personal enlightenment. Both social and personal progress must be
given full attention.
The union with God that is achieved in baqá does not imply
identification with God’s essence.
The bliss of baqá is not the final stage of the mystic’s Path, but
“the first gate of the heart’s citadel”.
A shaykh is no longer needed to walk the Path. Just as religious
laws are given full importance, the role of guidance is returned to
the Revelation itself and those who hold authority. This connects
the individual back to the religious community, rather than to other
mystics.
The role of the Manifestation is raised to the role of “God” in
mystical practice. That is, the seeker’s remembrance and prayer are
directed toward the Manifestation. A letter on behalf of the
Guardian says: “We liken God to the Sun, which gives us all our
life. So the Spirit of God reaches us through the Souls of the
Manifestations. We must learn to commune with Their Souls, and this
is what the Martyrs seemed to have done, and what brought them such
ecstacy of joy that life became nothing. This is the true
mysticism, and the secret, inner meaning of life which humanity has
at present, drifted so far from.”
The practices of devotion and remembrance are laid out in clearer
detail so that particular differences between individuals do not
become contentious, and thus the greater society is able to remain
in harmony with the practices of the individual.
The Baha’i concept of the unity of being (wahdat al-wujud) is
clarified, since this has been a major point of conflict between
Sufi orders and within Islam.
The seeker’s path is mainly one of vision, in which the veils are burnt
away and the heart purified until the lights of the Divine are clearly
reflected in it. This leads to a stage where the seeker “believes the
being of the created world to be the same as God’s being”. However,
this doctrine is identified with neither monism nor pantheism. There is
a oneness of being which embraces both Oneness of Being (tuwhiid-i
wujuudii) and Oneness of Manifestation (tuwhiid-i shuhuudii). As
Bahá’u’lláh says of the seeker:
In this Valley [of faná], the wayfarer leaveth behind him the stages
of the “oneness of Being and Manifestation” and reacheth a oneness
that is sanctified above these two stations. Ecstasy alone can
encompass this theme, not utterance nor argument; and whosoever hath
dwelt at this stage of the journey, or caught a breath from this
garden land, knoweth whereof We speak.
The Seven Valleys was written to a member of the Qadiri Sufi order.
Since he was a follower of Sufism, Bahá’u’lláh revealed the Seven
Valleys in that language, using those concepts, though without fixing
those concepts into absolute realities. Since the Manifestation uses
whatever language will best reach our understanding, it is helpful in
grasping the message of the Seven Valleys to understand a bit of the
Sufi scheme.
All effort begins with the self who desires to know God, and who
recognizes that its remoteness is due to its own ignorance and
negligence (the blaming soul). Such a soul knows only that it is
thirsty, but little else.
The Sufis view the self as having four different aspects: nafs, qalb,
ruh and sirr. Some also see a fifth part, the aql, or rational
intellect. All Sufi “practice”, in so far as it concerns the seeker
himself, is concerned with purification. The remainder of Sufi
practice, which deals wholly with God, is given to remembrance and the
ecstasy of contemplation. However, since this ecstasy is impeded by
impurities, the self is given some degree of attention.
Each of the four parts of the self is purified by different means:
The nafs is mostly viewed as the individual self, and the lower self.
It is that part which turns away from God, or desires to become a
partner with Him. The nafs is developed by aligning its will with the
will of God, and as this happens, the development of the other parts is
made possible. The nafs is seen as progressing through up to seven
stages, which `Abdu’l-Bahá expands to nine.
The maturation of the nafs along these stages happens in two phases: the
momentary vision of states (haal) and the achievement of a permanent
consciousness (maqaam) which cannot regress. It is these stages which
the Seven Valleys describe.
The qalb, or the heart, is where the divine realities appear in the
human being. The qalb can be dominating by the nafs, or it can serve to
reflect the ruh (spirit).
The sirr (secret) is vewied as “the centre of inner consciousness where
perceptual contact with the Divine is accomplished.” This may be
compared with the “third eye”, or inner sight.
Some Sufism hold to two higher spiritual faculties: Khafi (the arcane),
which is the bond between the ruh and God; and Akhfa (the most arcane),
which is complete immersion in the Absolute.
These aspects of the self relate to the “divine worlds”:
The nafs, related to the lower and physical self, is in Nasut, the
mortal world. The qalb, the seat of inspiration and the dawning place
of divine attributes, is in Malakut (the realm of God’s lordship). The
ruh, which emanates like a ray from the perfect Sun, is in Jabarut (the
realm of God’s dominion). The sirr, which is the higher self, and
khafi, the arcane, are in Lahut (the realm of the Divine). And the
Akhfa is in Hahut (the realm of God’s own being).
“So, in these four “organs” or faculties: Nafs, Qalb, Sirr and Ruh,
and the purificative activities applied to them, the basic orthodox
Sufi psychology is contained. The purification of elementary
passionate nature (Tazkiya-I-Nafs), followed by cleansing of the
spiritual heart so that it may acquire a mirror-like purity of
reflection (Tazkiya-I-Qalb) and become the receptacle of God’s love
(Ishq), fortified by emptying of egoic drives (Taqliyya-I-Sirr) and
remembrance of God’s attributes (Dhikr), gloriously ending in
illumination of the spirit (Tajjali-I-Ruh)- this is the essential Sufi
spiritual journey. Other spiritual faculties, like Khafi (the arcane)
and Akhfa (the most arcane) are employed in other Sufi orders like
Naqshbandi, but this is beyond general basic consensus.”
In summary: The nafs is purified by the governing of our passionate
nature; then the qalb may be purified and cleansed, and become the
receptacle of God’s love; then the inner eye may be opened and directed
toward God; then the spirit becomes illumined and manifests Godly
attributes:
First, ‘Purification of the Self’ (tazkiya-e-nafs). This means
cleansing the sensual self from its worldy qualities, and
embellishing it with laudable and angelic attributes or qualities.
Second, ‘Cleansing of the Heart’ (tazkiya-e-qalb). This means
erasing from the heart its a) love for the short-lived world and b)
its worry over griefs and sorrows, and establishing in their place
an ardent love (ishq) for God alone.
Third, ‘Emptying of the Sirr’ (takhliya-e-sirr) from all thoughts
that would divert attention from the remembrance of God. Sirr is an
organ of mystical vision.
Fourth, ‘Illumination of the Spirit’ (tajliya-e-ruh). This means
filling the spirit with the effulgence of God and the fervour of His
Love.
In addition to using specific terminology, the language of the Seven
Valleys is highly stylized. It creates a tone that would have a strong
resonance to a Muslim ear. For example, though a very small fraction of
words in the Arabic lexicon are used in the Qur’an, Bahá’u’lláh makes
frequent use of words of Qur’anic origin. When He speaks of the
“seeker”, He does so using several different terms, all of which can be
found in the Qur’an. This might seem insignificant, except that
although Arabic claims over a million unique words, the Qur’an only uses
about two thousand of them.
Muslim writers have compiled the thematic words of the Qur’an – such as
those that refer to “seeking” – and ranked them according to their
frequency and context of use. Some commentators have attempted to
refine the definition of these words based on their patterns of usage
within the Qur’anic. That Bahá’u’lláh would choose so many terms from
the Qur’an must have had quite an impact on his reader, who would have
known these terms and their history well.
Some words in Sufism are so specific that differing schools within
Sufism cannot entirely agree on their meaning. One of these is “nafs”,
a word Bahá’u’lláh uses often in the Seven Valleys. It can be
translated into English as “self” or “soul”, but without the same
difference in meaning that English places between these two. Of real
significance is the Sufi’s relationship to his nafs, and how he has
spent decades struggling to purify and conquer the nafs. Countless
stories and illustrations exist to depict the nafs; whole treatises
describe the stages of defeating the nafs. The battle against nafs has
to do with the greater jihad, or the believer’s battle over himself.
Yet none of this richness is conveyed in either of the words “self” or
“soul”.
“Self”, by conjuring psychological and religious history, has similar
gravity to “nafs”, but the two bodies of reference only partially
overlap. When “nafs” is translated as “soul” in other places, it makes
it hard to reconcile with “self”. The two meanings are not so
contradictory in the original. Although “self” often contrasts with
“soul” in English, “nafs” contrasts with “ruh” in Sufism – even though
“ruh” can be translated as “soul” as well (though more often as
“spirit”).
Since translation cannot replace years of study and experience, and
since the Western reader cannot steep himself in a nineteenth century
khaniq – to capture the feelings it must have evoked in its original
audience – we are left with a work whose density can only be
appreciated through loving attention and time. Its spiritual message is
free from the barriers of language, but the specifics of its language
are not free from historical context. To appreciate the text, in
addition to its import, we must transport ourselves mentally to another
place and time.
First, it is important to realize that Sufis envisioned the soul as
passing through several perceptual stages before reaching its goal of
union with God. At each stage, the seeker must purify and focus himself
in order to pierce the veils surrounding him and thus succeed to the
next stage. One of the values of using “stages” is that they offer a
way to measure progress, and ensure that the seeker does not blithely
imagine he has seen all there is to see.
Bahá’u’lláh uses a seven-fold scheme in His book, but does not confirm
that there are in fact seven stages. He says only that the valleys “are
said to be seven”, and makes other equally indirect statements. In some
of His other books He even expands on certain stages beyond the Seven,
or explains similar truths using other schemes altogether (cf. The Four
Valleys).
He goes even further to say that placing emphasis on such stages, rather
than on God, is to miss the mark:
Much hath been written in the books of old concerning the various
stages in the development of the soul, such as concupiscence,
irascibility, inspiration, benevolence, contentment, Divine
good-pleasure, and the like; the Pen of the Most High, however, is
disinclined to dwell upon them. Every soul that walketh humbly with
its God, in this Day, and cleaveth unto Him, shall find itself
invested with the honor and glory of all goodly names and stations.
The focus is meant to be solely on God, the Beloved – all good proceeds
from this. Some Sufis writers believed this also, berating others for
becoming too occupied with “spiritual stations”. They can be a useful
tool to find the Path, but are not to be confused with the Goal.
Since the Seven Valleys follows a somewhat traditional Sufi scheme, some
understanding of Sufism will aid in understanding the language and
progression of the Valleys. First, Sufis divide between two types of
spiritual movement: states (hál) and stations (maqám). A state is a
momentary experience, prompted by the grace of God, taking the believer
to unexperienced spiritual heights for a short time. The purpose of
these states is to inspire the soul to seek God more ardently, and to
prove to him he still has further to go. Stations, on the other hand,
are a direct result of the seeker’s striving and do not regress. These
are perfections which, once attained, cannot be undone, since they
constitute an extension of vision. Once the eyes are opened and behold
a certain reality, the impression of what was seen cannot be removed.
`Abdu’l-Bahá says:
All creation, whether of the mineral, vegetable or animal kingdom, is
compelled to obey the law of motion; it must either ascend or descend.
But with the human soul, there is no decline. Its only movement is
towards perfection; growth and progress alone constitute the motion of
the soul.
There are three maqámát encompassed by the Seven Valleys: the station of
limitation (tahdíd), which comprises the first three Valleys; the
station of unity (tawhíd), which covers the next three; and the station
of “faná and baqá” which are found in the last Valley (faná and baqá are
described below):
maqaam-i-ta.hdiid: The station of limitation. This is expressed in
the first three valleys, where the world seen by the believer is the
world of his own limitations.
maqaam-i-tuw.hiid: The station of unity. This is where the believer
sees with the eye of God, and beholds creation as it is, rather than
as he sees it. This is the beginning of true understanding.
maqaam-i-fanaa va baqaa: Annihilation and Eternity. This is
disappearance of the self in God, where the seer is lost in the
seen; the self becomes nothing, and the seeker subsists in God.
Also described as nothingness, this stage does not imply
destruction, but absorption. (The English word “fan” is derived
from fanaa, which comes from “fanatic”: someone who has lost their
reason in devotion to something).
Bahá’u’lláh, like `Attár, calls His seven stages “valleys” in several
places, but uses other terms as well. He refers to the Valley of Unity
as the beginning of “maqaam-i-tuw.hiid”, or the station of unity
(described above). Other than this, the Valley of Unity is not
described as a unique station, but rather the beginning of this station.
The previous valleys are collectively referred to as “maqaam-i-ta.hdiid”
in this verse where the Valley of Unity is introduced:
saalik bad az seyr-i vaadii-i marifat kih aakhir-i maqaam-i ta.hdiid
ast bi-avval-i maqaam-i tuw.hiid vaa.sil shavad
In the English the currently accepted translation is:
After passing through the Valley of knowledge, which is the last plane
of limitation, the wayfarer cometh to the Valley of Unity…
Yet translated literally it renders as:
The wayfarer, after the journey of the valley of knowledge – which is
the end of maqaam-i-ta.hdiid – cometh to the beginning of
maqaam-i-tuw.hiid
The Valley of Unity is a dividing line between two larger stations:
Knowledge marking the end of maqaam-i-ta.hdiid, and Unity beginning
maqaam-i-tuw.hiid. The valleys after unity – contentment and
wonderment – precede the station of faná and baqá, which is the seventh
valley. That valley is described as “the dying from self and the living
in God”, which in the orignal uses the terms fanaa and baqaa:
iin rutbih maqaam-i fanaa-i az nafs va biqaa-i bi-al-llah ast
“This level [the seventh valley] marks the station of abandoning self
(faná) and abiding in God (baqá).”
As the seeker moves from stage to stage, his vision becomes more
penetrating until he is able to see God within the realities of all
things. “…these stages depend on the vision of the wayfarer.” Since
this is a journey of vision, there is no concept of time or distance
that can be made to fit. As suddenly as the inner eyes are opened, the
journey is complete. To “finish” the Seven Valleys, say the Sufis, ends
the first part of the soul’s journey, “the journey to God”, and begins
the second part – which is endless – “the journey in God”.
Making progress on the journey requires “steps” which are actually
advances in degrees of attention. As the seeker pays closer and
closer attention to the Book of Reality, he discerns more of the secrets
written on its pages. “He beholdeth in illusion the secret of reality,
and readeth from the attributes the riddle of the Essence.” At first
time is a barrier, requiring patience; then pain, which needs a lover’s
eagerness to endure whatever is demanded by his love; and finally evil,
which tests the soul’s faith in a perfect and loving Creator.
Passing these initial stages frees the seeker from looking at reality
according to his own limitations, and transports him to a station where
“none shall contemplate anything whatsoever but that he shall see God
therein.” At that point his faith is complete, and he passes beyond the
need for tests. He has proved his devotion: “This station conferreth
the true standard of knowledge, and freeth man from tests.” All fear is
banished from his heart since he now knows: “All things are of God”.
When there is no more fear, the heart is open to learning the true
secrets of love (“Love never dwelleth in a heart possessed by fear”).
That is, the seeker moves from his earlier form of love, which was love
for God exclusive of the world, to the realm of unity, where his love
for God embraces all His works. He enters the Kingdom of God, makes his
dwelling place in heaven, and eats of the fruits of paradise. Here
there is perfect contentment, and all that happens is in accordance with
the seeker’s pleasure.
However, this love itself can be a veil, since it blinds the seeker from
realizing that he is at unity even with the One Whom he loves. When the
seeker himself disappears, he enters a condition of annihilation in the
presence of God – faná – the way a candle’s flame vanishes before the
sun. Although this state is nothingness in relation to the seeker, it
is baqá (eternity, subsistence) in relation to God. “This is the plane
whereon the vestiges of all things are destroyed in the traveler…”
These stations are a process of removing veils; they do not yet concern
the Reality beyond those veils. A sleeper must remove the covers from
his bed to waken, but the process of removing those covers has little to
do with the waking world. So these stages that relate to uncovering the
eyes do not consider what is seen when they are fully opened. That
world is infinite and without end – another justification for sometimes
translating the baqá as “eternity”. Such begins the “journey in God”.
This process of awakening is meant to take place within this life. In a
hadith is says, “die before you die”. Also, the kingdoms encountered by
the seeker – heaven, paradise and the like – exist in the world around
us. Since they are perceptual worlds, they cannot be separated in terms
of time or space. Life and death are metaphors for the life of faith
and the death of unbelief. To die and be born again in heaven is a
description of what happens when the seeker dies from self and awakens
to appreciate the manifold wonders of God’s creation. To consider that
these stations are beyond an ordinary person’s reach, or that we must
wait until physical death to approach them, places too much importance
on the body and attempts to connect what is timeless to a specific
temporal event.
What is needed to progress is the grace of God. As `Abdu’l-Bahá tells
us, man has complete freedom in choosing to undertake the journey but
cannot move if left unassisted by God: “…the inaction or the movement
of man depend upon the assistance of God. If he is not aided, he is not
able to do either good or evil.” Thus prayer and meditation,
supplication to God, are extremely effective tools for progressing along
the spiritual Path: “… the core of religious faith is that mystic
feeling which unites Man with God. This state of spiritual communion
can be brought about and maintained by means of meditation and
prayer.”
Thus assisted, one may come to behold the perfect love expressed by the
creation around us. Until we learn the meaning of true love, we cannot
appreciate what the world really represents: “If thou lovest Me not, My
love can in no wise reach thee.”
I therefore reveal unto thee sacred and resplendent tokens from the
planes of glory, to attract thee into the court of holiness and
nearness and beauty, and draw thee to a station wherein thou shalt see
nothing in creation save the Face of thy Beloved One, the Honored, and
behold all created things only as in the day wherein none hath a
mention.
