Local Baha'is offer prayers for Iranian prisoners

The faces of seven strangers — five men, two women — flashed on the wall behind Elham Derakhshanian, a few grinning or scrunching their cheeks into a smile.
The faces were tranquil, relaxed. They invited meditation.

“Alláh’u’abhá,” said Derakhshanian, offering a traditional greeting before worship services. “Today is a special Sunday.”

Heads bowed and eyes closed, more than 40 Baha’is joined Sunday in a special prayer service at the Colorado Springs Baha’i Center in honor of those seven people whom leaders of the Baha’i faith claim have been unjustly held prisoner in Iran.

“We have to pray for them today,” Derakhshanian said, continuing the service. “And pray that the soul of Iran will understand what is happening to its own people.”

(Keep up with local religion news at The Pulpit blog).

Founded in the 1860s, the Baha’i faith teaches that all humans are part of one race and charges its followers to unite the world in peace. Its prophet, Bahá’u’lláh — who is revered as one of a series of prophets dating to Moses, Jesus and Muhammad — was in Tehran when he is said to have been enlightened by god.

Iran, however, has proven a difficult homeland for the Baha’i faith.

In spring 2008, seven Baha’is were arrested on suspicion of spying for Israel, a charge that led to a 20-year prison sentence that was later reduced to 10 years.

The conviction drew a stern rebuke from the Baha’i international governing body, headquartered in Israel. It also hit home for several Iranians living in Colorado Springs.

Zia Rahimpour said he fled Iran after trying to enroll his child in kindergarten. He paid a man to help him cross over into Pakistan, eventually immigrating to the United States.

“They said they were sorry — they could not register him because of his parents’ religion,” Rahimpour said.

Faranak Rahimpour and her family left their three-story house and fled to Pakistan with just two suitcases. She would have stayed in Iran had her faith not made it difficult to attend higher education classes.

“My parents built that house from scratch,” Rahimpour said. “I would not do it again. It was really scary.”

But on Sunday, the sight of those prisoners failed to summon anger. Rather, it prompted only prayer.

One by one, a select few read off the biographies of those imprisoned: a 53-year-old agricultural engineer; a 77-year-old former factory owner and a 57-year-old school principal.

They sang short songs in Farsi, most spanning just a few verses. Faranak Rahimpour chanted for patience, her voice piercing the tepid air of the small fellowship hall. Many sat silent and still.

And as those faces flashed above their heads, they bowed their heads in prayer.

“May they all live together in perfect harmony,” Erin Rossing said. “Oh god, establish the most great peace.”

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Call the writer at 476-1654.