# Pilgrimage: Notes by LeRoy Jones

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-18 — 1 clipping.*

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> Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: LeRoy Jones, Pilgrimage: Notes by LeRoy Jones, bahai-library.com.
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> 
> Pilgrimage:
> 
> Notes by LeRoy Jones
> 
> LeRoy Jones
> 
> 1998-02
> 
> I declared my belief in Bahá'u'lláh at age nineteen after growing
> up in a
> very confining fundamentalist religion. That religion so owned my life and
> in such a limiting way, that upon leaving I had little idea what to do in
> the world. In fact I kept going to their meetings for social contact
> because I knew so few people outside. I was completely lost without them.
> After starting to make my way into the world, I stumbled over the Bahá'í
> Faith and quickly declared. The family that taught me the Faith became a
> second family and I lived with them for a time. They were due to go on
> Pilgrimage in a year and asked the Pilgrimage Office if I could come as
> well. I was granted permission.
> 
> During the course of that year I was losing interest in the
> Bahá'í
> Faith. Even upon declaring I wondered why I was doing this--the last thing
> I wanted was to join another crazy religion. With temptations everywhere I
> quickly started doubting the Faith. I wanted freedom and saw religion as a
> hindrance.
> 
> Time for pilgrimage came. My adopted family could not go and I
> almost stayed as well. However, the lure of world travel combined with an
> underlying nagging, which I barely acknowledged, gave me impetus. So,
> hardly twenty-one, I was on my way to Israel.
> 
> The first evening after gathering in the pilgrim house we were
> escorted to the Shrine of the Bab. As the pilgrims gradually entered the
> Shrine I felt a great reluctance. I hesitated at the door. A Hand of the
> Cause gently nudged me inside. My memory of this episode is hazy, but not
> long after entering I remember kneeling with my face to the floor. Tears
> streamed from my eyes. Astonished, I could hardly believe this was
> happening--I had so little control. Afterward, the confusion caused by
> this event made me little more than mush for the rest of the nine days. A
> day or two later I remember walking at night near the Shrine of the Bab,
> its peaceful luminescence gracing the gardens as I begged for some
> indication or sign from God. I wanted confirmation--something to clear the
> dismay and bewilderment.
> 
> On one of the final days, we had a free day, to do as we wished. A
> Swedish fellow and I went to Akka for a few hours and then separated. I
> made my way to Baji for one last visit to the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh--it had
> been very busy when we were there as a group. Upon arrival I found the
> gardens vacant. I made my way to the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh, which was
> also
> empty.
> 
> The Shrine is very simple, yet exquisitely beautiful. The serenity
> is unmatched. Persian carpets of great beauty rest on the floor. Simple
> benches line the wall. Rose petals embellish the threshold while dozens of
> fresh flowers from the surrounding gardens ornament the room, their natural
> aroma gracing the small chamber. That day sunlight filtered through a
> skylight, adorning the flowers and rugs with a pristine vibrancy. I found
> it very soothing to trace intricate patterns in the carpets while absorbing
> the delicate scents.
> 
> I sat in a corner, enjoying the peaceful beauty, and casually
> flipping through a copy of Gleanings from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh,
> reading a few lines here and there. An unfamiliar passage caught my eye,
> "When a true seeker determines to take the step of search. . ." Without
> warning, the words of the passage began to blur and dance on the page. The
> shafts of sunlight became animated, not like a moving spotlight, but
> agitated and alive. The entire room was brighter, the fragrances more
> intense. All colors, all aromas, everything sensory was illuminated, more
> acute, and vibrating with a tangible power. Entranced, I saw the words
> surging on the page, followed by what seemed to be a furious, almost
> violent transfusion of knowledge from the book directly through my
> forehead--and while this torrent of blurred and frenetic words streaming
> from the printed page made those words seem inconsequential, they
> simultaneously carried an import and authority unlike anything in my
> experience. Suddenly it ended. I sat breathless and stricken, almost
> choosing not to believe what I had seen.
> 
> Then a calm settled in my being, unlike anything I have felt
> before
> or since. This serenity and the shock of the experience combined to subdue
> my thoughts. I stayed as long as physically possible. Leaving was one of
> the hardest things I have done. While walking the long distance from the
> Shrine to the Collins Gate and out of the gardens, the sound of gravel
> grating under my feet grew louder until it reverberated in my ears. Tears
> streamed, I dared not look back, as I fought every tendency to retreat to
> the Shrine. I was terrified to go back to the world.
> 
> This event occurred over twenty years ago. It gives me no special
> distinction for events similar to this happen to many Bahá'ís. In the same
> sense that miracles have special import only for those who behold
> them--this is my own special miracle. One of the most amazing parts of the
> story is that after such a dramatic experience I spent well over a decade
> trying to forget it. My contact with the Bahá'ís was somewhat regular for
> a year or two, but became fleeting and sporadic until it almost ceased.
> Eventually the force of circumstance, combined with a bit of maturity,
> enabled me to embrace this event and acknowledge its import in my life. In
> recalling this story I have done everything to not embellish it with
> imaginations accumulated over time. I believe this is an accurate picture
> of what happened, if not every detail, certainly the feelings and
> impressions are precise. For try as I did to erase this event from my past
> there has not been a day go by that I have not contemplated this encounter.
> As I write this my family and I await what for me will be a second
> pilgrimage. I try to have no expectations. What I do know is, that in
> this life, a dearer homecoming could not be possible.
> 
> METADATA
> 
> Views12414 views since posted 1998; last edit 2012;
> 
> previous at archive.org.../jones_pilgrimage_notes;
> URLs changed in 2010, see archive.org.../bahai-library.org
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> — *Pilgrimage: Notes by LeRoy Jones (Used by permission of the curator)*