One thing I'd resolved to do this year was to cut down on obligations that didn't seem to be paying off, either for myself or for others. Last issue, I asked folks to take a survey on whether I should continue with Faith-Filled Fiction. I had one person who voted, and a couple of folks sent me personal e-mails. However, silence, in this case, speaks more loudly than words. This will be my last issue.

I want to thank all of those who have contributed in the past, especially those who took time to research as well as share their experiences. You took a chance on a small e-zine, and I and the readers appreciated it. Readers, thanks for checking back once a quarter. It has been a fun time, learning and sharing. Now, I'm on to other things.

I hope you'll come visit my blog, where I talk about writing, faith and life: http://www.fabianspace.blogspot.com. In the meantime, I'll be seeing you all on Twitter, Facebook and the many groups I frequent! This isn't "goodbye," but "let's move on."

In this issue, Maya tells us how her Baha'i faith intertwines in her fiction, as well as giving us more history of the Baha'i faith. Also, Doug Davidson finishes his commentary on morality in fiction by discussing the importance of respecting the dignity of ther person. Enjoy!

Guest Columnist

Faith and Fiction: How the Two Intertwine

By Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

The answer to the question about how my faith affects my writing comes in two shades—the conscious and the unconscious. I’ve been a Bahá’í all my adult life and have studied the teachings and history of my faith avidly. And, because the teaching of the Bahá’í Faith that gave me the most trouble as a Christian was the oneness of religion, I studied the teachings and history of other revelations as well. As a result, my head is full of religious stories from Jesus Christ and Zacchaeus, to Buddha and the Abusive Mendicant, to Bahá’u’lláh and the Mullahs.

These stories are inspiring and I often use them consciously to illustrate a plot point. I extracted an episode from the life of Abdu’l-Bahá (eldest son of the Founder of the Bahá’í Faith) and used it in my novelette “The White Dog,” which appeared in Interzone Magazine and was a finalist for the British Science Fiction Award. (You can read it at the Book View Cafe). Abdu’l-Bahá is often referred to as the Exemplar of the Bahá’í Faith and this tiny slice of His life was perfect to illustrate how my Bahá’í protagonist learned to make friends of enemies.

Sometimes I make use of situations from religious history but set them in a fantasy or science fiction context. My first novel, THE MERI, is my working out in a fantasy world of the situations that arise as the believers in a new divine Message—and the Bringer of that new Message—encounter the Pharisees of their world. I paraphrased from Bahá’í scripture, the Torah, Evangel, Bhagavad Gita, Dhammapada and Qur’an to illuminate the action in each chapter and to give my fantasy religion scriptures.

A great number of stories I’ve written come out of a desire to explore how a Bahá’í character might respond to certain situations. My story “Heroes” (Analog) put a group of Bahá’í scientists in that gray area between scientific neutrality and moral imperative by exploring what might happen if they knew the scientific discoveries they were making were going to be used to perpetuate war.

Then there’s the unconscious level at which my faith influences my writing. I can’t even begin to estimate the impact it has. It influences everything from the subjects I choose to write about to the way I write about them. Obviously, for example, a belief in the harmony of science and religion—which is a core principle of the Faith—is going to influence how I approach science fiction. A belief in the nobility of the human spirit is going to show in how I write flawed characters.

I’m also influenced, of course, by the importance the arts are given in the scriptures of my faith. Bahá’ís are encouraged to pursue the arts which to me, as a writer and musician, makes perfect sense. God is the Creator and He made us in His image. For us, creation is, after all, a primary function.

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Writing Tips

Morality in Fiction, Part 2

By D. G. D. Davidson

Previously, I discussed Robert Florez's essay on depicting sin in comics and proposed that, by first considering what might tempt a reader to sin, Florez had chosen the wrong starting point. A writer should first consider what constitutes good art and promotes human dignity.

Matthew 5.28 reads, "But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (NRSV). Pope John Paul II's meditation on the body in art in the Theology of the Body 60-63, based on this passage, discusses the use of the human body in art. John Paul II acknowledges that the unclothed body is an appropriate subject for art (TOB 61.1), and that narrative works are naturally preoccupied with sexuality (TOB 63.3). However, because such artwork represents human beings, any objectification thereof is an invitation to--and a form of--the reduction of people to mere sexual objects (TOB 62.4). We can extend this concept of objectification beyond the sexual realm and apply it to other things that potentially demean human dignity, such as violence.

A right understanding of the dignity of the person is a necessary precursor to good art that depicts the body without descending into pornography (TOB 63.4). A creator should always intend to create memorable, well-rounded characters. Just as holding up a woman for the lustful gaze of an audience can reduce her from a person to a mere sex object, holding up a cartoon character for the same purpose can reduce her from a well-rounded character to a mere sex object. Gratuitous sexual content therefore works at cross-purposes to the creator's goals. A creator is obligated to consider this even if circumstances in the story dehumanize the character: the artist should respect his characters even when characters disrespect each other. Otherwise, he risks losing audience empathy, for the audience will see the characters as objects of desire or of violence rather than as people, and the art becomes obscene.

The burden is not entirely on the artist: the viewer is obligated to receive artistic works in good faith without intent to objectify what he sees (cf. TOB 63.7). The artist can have only partial responsibility for the way his creation is treated once it leaves his hands.

What, then, are the concrete rules for the Christian artist? I believe it is impossible to create any that apply to every artform or every story. Rather than thinking in terms of rules he must follow or boundaries he must not cross, the Christian artist should think in terms of the final goal of his art: to uplift or enlighten, in some fashion, those who view it. He must develop a deep understanding of what makes good art.

Work Cited:
John Paul II. Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Trans. Michael Waldstein. Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 2006.

Religion Research

The Bahá’í Faith — a Primer for Writers — Part 4

By Maya Bohnhoff

Bahá’í views of God, Manifestation and man.

The Faith was introduced to the West at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair. In 1911-12, Bahá’u’lláh’s eldest son, Abdu’l-Bahá traveled to Europe and America to establish the first western Bahá’í institutions and lay the cornerstone for the Bahá’í Temple in Wilmette, IL. “The White Dog,” my British SF Award-nominated novelette (Interzone), gets its title from the story it contains about Abdu’l-Bahá’s visit to New York.

The Faith grew throughout the 20th century with the guidance of Bahá’u’lláh’s great-grandson, Shoghi Effendi, and the tireless efforts of a group of men and women appointed “Hands of the Cause of God.” They opened countries for the Faith and paved the way for the election in 1963 of the first Universal House of Justice, which Bahá’u’lláh designed as its international guiding body.

But though it’s spread throughout the world, the Bahá’í Faith in Iran has dwindled from 600,000 in the 1970‘s to about half that. There have been several outbreaks of persecution over the years, but for many Bahá’ís,1979 is a “Do you remember where you were when...” year. I was playing music with a group of friends when someone came into the room, white-faced, and told us that there had been a political coup in Iran and that the new government was arresting Bahá’ís.

Why? Jews, Christians and Zoroastrians are protected under Muhammad’s laws, but Bahá’ís are not because Bahá’u’lláh came after Muhammad, Whom Muslims consider the last Prophet of God.

Suddenly, my faith was outlawed, its institutions suspended, Bahá’í civil rights curtailed. Bahá’ís lost jobs, property and legal standing. Bahá’í children were suspended from school and barred from higher education. About 200 were killed and thousands imprisoned when they would not recant their faith. One of my friends was smuggled out of the country in a trunk and her father killed. But the most horrific event was the 1983 arrest, torture, and hanging of ten Bahá’í women. One, 18 year-old Mona Mahmudnizhad, became the face of the persecution ... until last year.

Last year, the Bahá’ís appointed by the Universal House of Justice as stewards of the Iranian community were arrested. Since, they’ve been in Evin prison without access to their legal counsel, Nobel Peace Prize laureate Shirin Ebadi. They are charged with espionage for Israel, insulting religious sanctities, propaganda against the Islamic Republic and spreading corruption in the earth. This last is punishable by death.

There are stories here. Lots of them. One Christian writer, Tom Ligon, has written several stories for Analog that have examined the hatred of the Iranian clergy for the Bahá’ís in a science fictional context. He’s fascinated by how a group of people whose lives center around principles of unity and non-violence can be so feared and hated. Here is an echo of what the early Christians endured. For me, it’s the “little” stories that tell the larger one—the story of an old Persian man’s visit to New York, or the story of a girl in a trunk...