Black Flower of Montreal

Montreal, January 16, 2026 — Through a teleconference, some forty friends from across Canada gathered to commemorate and celebrate the life of a man who, for decades, breathed renewed vitality into the Montreal community—this blessed city blessed by footsteps of the Centre of the Covenant of Bahá’u’lláh.

His soul ascended to the garden of eternity on January 17, 2015, leaving the Bahá’í community of Montreal bereft of a rare brilliance. This “black flower” was Raymond Flournoy. The fourth believer of his race to embrace the Faith of Bahá’u’lláh in the metropolis, he passed away at St. Mary’s Hospital on January 17, only days before what would have been his 91st birthday on February 6.

Born on February 6, 1924, in Forest City, Arkansas, Raymond was the thirteenth of fifteen children of Crawford Franklin Flournoy and Sally Ingram Flournoy. He accepted the Bahá’í Faith on January 9, 1962, and immediately became a devoted teacher of its principles. The circumstances of his declaration remain little known, as do the reasons that led him to settle in Canada to pursue his studies. Like the Dawn-Breakers of old, it seems the Spirit guided him to this land in search of the Faith. Without delay, he entered the field of service, faithful to one of Bahá’u’lláh’s foremost exhortations: to teach the Cause.

For more than four decades, Raymond opened the doors of his home with unwavering warmth. His house became a haven for all who crossed its threshold. When professional obligations required him to work in Toronto for a year, he courageously informed his employer that he hosted “fireside” gatherings every Friday evening in Montreal. Moved by such constancy, his supervisor allowed him to return to Montreal each Friday so he could continue these meetings. Such was his steadfast devotion and obedience to the principles of the Faith.

Teaching the Faith never posed a challenge to him; hearts were naturally drawn to his presence. People of every background—First Nations, French-speaking Quebecers who knew not a word of English, students, teachers, families with children—found their way to his home. There were songs and laughter, learning and heartfelt conversations. Listeners became speakers, speakers became listeners, and all cherished those Friday evenings. Among the thousands who visited Raymond’s home, many embraced the Faith, touched by the warmth they experienced there. In Montreal, it was said that if one mentioned the Faith to a stranger, the first question would be, “And how is Raymond?” Such was the reach of his reputation.

A member of the Spiritual Assembly of Montreal for over thirty years and its conscientious treasurer for many of them, he played a decisive role—alongside the Hashemi family—in the acquisition of the Montreal Bahá’í Centre, a true blessing for the community. A passionate traveler, he delighted in showing his nieces and nephews the splendour of Bahá’í temples in Europe and the United States. Each winter, he sought the warmest corner of the earth; Thailand became his chosen refuge, where he retreated for six weeks every year.

During his final days at St. Mary’s Hospital, where he had long served as a volunteer, Raymond received so many visitors that the medical staff wondered who this remarkable man might be. Before long, the entire emergency department and the fifth floor had become familiar with the Faith, and some nurses affectionately nicknamed him the “Sidney Poitier” of the Bahá’í community.

At his funeral, nearly 180 people—members of the First Nations, Montreal’s Black community, friends from neighbouring cities, representatives of the Bahá’í Council of Quebec and the Spiritual Assembly of Montreal—accompanied him in solemn reverence to his final resting place, remaining until the last flower petals upon his casket disappeared into the earth.

Raymond was a beloved elder brother to all. His absence leaves an immeasurable void, yet his memory continues to illuminate Montreal like a dark and precious flower whose fragrance will never fade.