© 2007 Cece Forrester
© 2007 The Urantia Book Fellowship
This talk was prepared for the First Society Miniconference, April 30, 2006 and presented again at the Fellowship Summer Study Session, July 7, 2006. It has been revised for publication.
Many of you will recognize the following scene from a classic movie, as narrated in the novelization:
Luke found himself squinting as they entered the cantina. Moving inward, Luke was astonished at the variety of beings making use of the bar. There were one-eyed creatures and thousand-eyed creatures with scales, creatures with fur, and some with skin that seemed to ripple and change consistency according to their feelings of the moment. Tentacles, claws, and hands were wrapped around drinking utensils of various sizes and shapes. Conversation was a steady babble of human and alien tongues. [1]
I can’t help recalling the impact of that scene whenever I read about the experiences we will have on the constellation training worlds, described in The Urantia Book:
Your sojourn on Edentia and its associated spheres will be chiefly occupied with the mastery of group ethics, the secret of pleasant and profitable interrelationship between the various universe and superuniverse orders of intelligent personalities. Now on the constellation training worlds you are to achieve the real socialization of your evolving morontia personality. This supernal cultural acquirement consists in learning how to: Abide joyfully and co-operate heartily with ten univitatia, who, though similar intellectually to morontia beings, are very different in every other way [and] while attaining satisfactory socialization of the personality on intellectual and vocational levels, further perfect the ability to live in intimate contact with similar and slightly dissimilar beings with ever-lessening irritability and ever-diminishing resentment. The reversion directors contribute much to this latter attainment through their group-play activities. [UB 43:8.3,4,6,9]
George Lucas’s imaginative bar scene in Star Wars brought to life in my mind what it might mean to interact with beings of other kinds and from other worlds. For many others, it probably impressed on them for the first time the notion that not only might there be other sentient races out there, but you could actually sit down and have a drink with them.
This is just one example of the connections I’ve made between The Urantia Book and science fiction, or its overlapping genre of fantasy. Of course, it doesn’t apply to all of science fiction, some of which is dystopian, some of which is unfortunately dependent on ghost-fear, and some of which is too concerned with nuts and bolts to operate on a higher thematic level. This is a shame, because science fiction and fantasy are especially suited, among all literary genres, to examine the big questions of human existence, by setting up a situation in which reality is altered in some way from the world we know, and then exploring the results. But I have not been the only Urantia Book reader to be led to speculate that something is going on here.
This is partly because in my personal experience, my mind was made receptive to The Urantia Book through storytelling, so that when I found it I would recognize in it ideas that I already found progressive and appealing. But it also can be applied on another level. I’m going to share with you a few thoughts on how science fiction not only reinforces the cosmology of The Urantia Book, but has been playing a role in developing cosmic-mindedness in the culture of this planet, a role which, in my opinion, is not accidental but is being fostered on superhuman levels.
Those of you who know me well will not be surprised to hear me quoting C. S. Lewis early and often—but he really has a lot to do with today’s topic. At the end of one of his novels, which I’ll discuss more in a moment, there is a passage in which he, as the author of the story, discusses with the main character the reasons for writing it:
A good many facts, which I have no intention of publishing at present, have fallen into our hands. . . .A systematic report of these facts might, of course, be given to the civilized world: but that would almost certainly result in universal incredulity and in a libel action. . . .It was Dr. Ransom who first saw that our only chance was to publish in the form of fiction what would certainly not be listened to as fact. . . .To my objection that if accepted as fiction it would for that very reason be regarded as false, he replied that there would be indications enough in the narrative for the few readers—the very few—who at present were prepared to go further into the matter. . . .“Anyway,” he continued, “what we need for the moment is not so much a body of belief as a body of people familiarized with certain concepts. If we could even effect in one per cent of our readers a change-over from the conception of Space to the conception of Heaven, we should have made a beginning.” [2]
Similarly, I have a notion that some ideas in The Urantia Book are being purposefully and subtly introduced to popular culture in fictional form so that individuals and groups are prepared to find the book more relatable and plausible if and when they discover it, and the rest of the world has its frame of reference advanced little by little.
We read in The Urantia Book that two groups of the master seraphim of planetary supervision are the progress angels, “intrusted with the task of initiating the evolutionary progress of the successive social ages,” and the angels of the future, “the projection angels, who forecast a future age and plan for the realization of the better things of a new and advancing dispensation.” [UB 114:6.6,10]
The Urantia Book also gives us hints about what these angels can and cannot do: “None of these angelic groups exercise direct or arbitrary control over the domains of their assignment. They cannot fully control the affairs of their respective realms of action, but they can and do so manipulate planetary conditions and so associate circumstances as favorably to influence the spheres of human activity to which they are attached. They function as ideational clearinghouses, mind focalizers, and project promoters.” [UB 114:6.18-19]
One way of interpreting this realm of action is that the responsible seraphic groups might be able to encourage the dramatization of appropriate concepts in works of popular art and fiction, whether by people who’ve already been exposed to the book, or by independent auto-revelation.
There’s the TV series Star Trek, about a starship seeking out new worlds several centuries in the future. The original series, which aired from 1966 to 1969, actually served as inspiration for real scientists and astronauts. A recent documentary on the History Channel explained that Star Trek played no small part in helping NASA engineers achieve the goal of going to the moon, by showing them that their work was about a meaningful future for humankind. By the way, it’s also responsible for the cellphones in your pockets, according to their inventor, who was determined to build a communicator like the ones he saw on TV. But more importantly, the cast of characters embodied Gene Roddenberry’s vision of a better future of equality, cooperation, and progress, portraying not just a unified family of Earth people but a Federation of sentient beings on the galactic level. You may not realize how revolutionary it was in the mid-sixties to show Russian, African-American female, and Japanese officers serving together on the same ship—not to mention a calm, rational scientist with pointed ears who happened to hail from the planet Vulcan. Today, this enlarged picture of diversity is widely accepted as a cultural ideal. For me, this sheds more light on how the powers that be accomplish their work. Progress requires that people adopt a better vision of who they could be and what they’re working toward. If it’s true, as rumor has it, that Gene Roddenberry read The Urantia Book, then we’ve already seen one good example of how its enlarged universe perspective will go about injecting progressive ideas into the culture.
I saw the movie The Day the Earth Stood Still on TV when I was perhaps twelve years old and it rocked my world. One of the main characters in the film is an alien emissary, Klaatu, who is humanoid, benevolent in principle, civilized in his behavior, and on a mission to welcome the people of Earth into a technologically advanced, morally superior, interplanetary culture. Right there, that made it a pretty radical departure from standard science fiction. But the real paradigm shift for me was when this character referred to “the Almighty Spirit” in a way that indicated that among the enlightened, his existence was assumed to be true. Here was a model of the thinking person as a believer. Here was permission to view God and the vast, intricate cosmos of today’s science as belonging to the same reality!
Around the same time in my life, I found the first book of C. S. Lewis’s “Space Trilogy” while browsing in my junior high school library. In Out of the Silent Planet, Dr. Ransom, a mild-mannered professor of languages, is kidnapped and taken to Mars by a couple of megalomaniac criminals. They’ve built a spaceship that can get them there and back, but are having trouble exploiting the natives because they can’t make themselves understood. Of course, they’re the ones who really don’t get it. Mars, also referred to as “Malacandra,” has not one but three sentient species living in harmony. It also has invisible spirits known as “eldils” which remind me very much of loyal midwayers, and is overseen by a planetary-prince-like being known as Oyarsa. Ransom eventually learns from Oyarsa that our planet, called “Thulcandra” or the silent world, was ruled by a being who went over to the dark side, and all Earth’s history was affected by the quarantine that was put in place as a result. Since the evil humans have unwittingly broken the quarantine, Ransom, though a mere mortal, is in a position to help the forces of good if he is willing.
In the sequel, Perelandra, which I read while in college, Ransom is sent to Venus on a mission he’s left to figure out on his own. This turns out to be helping the Adam and Eve of that world resist being tempted to rebellion by the evil one who was able to escape Earth. In the process, Ransom learns a great deal about free will and innocence, obedience, wisdom and sophistry, and finally, about the difference one human can make. Lewis also uses the story to explore the notion that myth and fact are more closely related than we assume. Ransom sees sights on Perelandra which remind him of certain Earth myths, and wonders, “Were all the things which appeared as mythology on earth scattered through other worlds as realities?” [3] And later, in contemplating the extraordinary role he must play, Ransom realizes that his entire frame of reference might be inadequate:
Long since on Mars, and more strongly since he came to Perelandra, Ransom had been perceiving that the triple distinction of truth from myth and of both from fact was purely terrestrial—was part and parcel of that unhappy division between soul and body which resulted from the Fall. The whole distinction between things accidental and things designed, like the distinction between fact and myth, was purely terrestrial. [4]
In the concluding volume, That Hideous Strength, Ransom is back on Earth, purified and elevated by his experience saving another planet, and is now the Director of a small group of loyal humans at the service of the higher powers. Though they don’t all grasp the big picture, each person can tell good from evil and chooses the right side. Through their faithfulness in small things at a crisis point, they assist the powers in defeating a concentrated assault by the evil one and his minions, who have taken over an institution that is ostensibly working for the benefit of mankind but is actually attempting to cleanse the planet of all higher human values. When the crisis is over, one of Ransom’s associates explains to the group what has really been going on—a sort of real-life extension of the Arthurian myth—and why the world will never know the real story:
“There has been a secret Logres in the very heart of Britain all these years; an unbroken succession of Pendragons. Our Director received. . . the office and the blessings. Some of the Pendragons are well known to history, though not under that name. Others you have never heard of. But in every age they and the little Logres which gathered round them have been the fingers which gave the tiny shove or the almost imperceptible pull. When the history of these last few months comes to be written and printed and taught in schools, there will be no mention in it of you and me, nor of Merlin and the Pendragon and the Planets. And yet in these months Britain rebelled most dangerously against Logres and was defeated only just in time.” [5]
When I read this story, by that time aware of The Urantia Book, I was reminded of the book’s description of the Reserve Corps of Destiny: “. . . it is, to a certain extent, through these small groups of forward-looking personalities that spiritual civilization is advanced and the Most Highs are able to rule in the kingdoms of men. The men and women of these reserve corps of destiny thus have various degrees of contact with their Adjusters . . . but these same mortals are little known to their fellows except in those rare social emergencies and spiritual exigencies wherein these reserve personalities function for the prevention of the breakdown of evolutionary culture or the extinction of the light of living truth. On Urantia these reservists of destiny have seldom been emblazoned on the pages of human history.” [UB 114:7.9]
I took both of these descriptions as guidance on how to view the behind-the-scenes mission of the Fifth Epochal Revelation, and what my role as a supporter might be.
Now, I’m certainly not the only Urantia Book reader ever to wonder if somehow Lewis got hold of the Urantia teachings. This would have had to be pre-publication, because his Space Trilogy came out in the 1940s. He might possibly have met Dr. Sadler or someone in the Forum if they traveled to Europe prior to World War II—Lewis never visited the United States. But isn’t it also possible that we have here an example of an individual or sub-epochal revelation? Lewis not only had keen religious insight, he was an extraordinarily talented writer with a great imagination, and a noted scholar of literature, including such works as Milton’s Paradise Lost. Someone with both the ability and the willingness to be of service might be inspired to fashion a new myth combining sincere Christian beliefs with other ideas that resonate with them. Such a person might be able, with just a little encouragement from beyond the conscious level, to see and describe the essential truth about the status of our planet in the cosmic body politic—even if the specific facts don’t quite match. Lewis himself wrote, in Perelandra,
Earth has been besieged, an enemy-occupied territory, since before history began. The gods have had no commerce there. How then do we know of them? It comes a long way round and through many stages. There is an environment of minds as well as of space. The universe is one—a spider’s web wherein each mind lives along every line, a vast whispering gallery where. . . though no news travels unchanged yet no secret can be rigorously kept. . . Nay, in the very matter of our world, the traces of the celestial commonwealth are not quite lost. [6]
Even if Lewis was neither inspired by the Urantia Papers nor had his thoughts borrowed by them, it’s clear that he’s walked alongside them and done his part for the spiritual evolution of our planet—as could any of us in our own way and on our own level.
The Urantia Book, of course, finds great drama in the fact of our world’s isolation. In the paper on the Planetary Princes we learn, much as Lewis’s insight taught him, that “Urantians are prevented from understanding very much about the culture of normal worlds,” due to “being deprived of the beneficent presence and influence of such superhuman personalities as a Planetary Prince and a Material Son and Daughter.” [UB 50:6.3] [UB 50:7.1] People from such planets are so special, they have a word for them, agondonters, meaning “evolutionary will creatures who can believe without seeing, persevere when isolated, and triumph over insuperable difficulties even when alone.” [UB 50:7.2]
One example given of bravery in isolation is that of Amadon, the human associate of Van, a member of the rebel Planetary Prince’s staff who refused to go along with the rebellion. We’re told in the paper on the planetary rebellion that after the system circuits were severed even the loyalists were “utterly cut off from all outside counsel and advice.” [UB 67:2.3] Yet Amadon, “with a minimum of intelligence and utterly devoid of universe experience, remained steadfast in the service of the universe and in loyalty to his associate.” [UB 67:3.9]
And, it’s related how Amadon’s courage was recognized throughout an entire universe: “From Edentia up through Salvington and even on to Uversa, for seven long years the first inquiry of all subordinate celestial life regarding the Satania rebellion, ever and always, was ‘What of Amadon of Urantia, does he still stand unmoved?’” [UB 67:8.3]
Some of my favorite science fiction and fantasy stories involve a new archetype that seems to have appeared in the twentieth century, that of the very human superhero. As a committed supporter of the Fifth Epochal Revelation, I find it very easy to relate to the story of an ordinary person who knows he’s been given a gift and is on a mission, but is not completely clear on what’s expected, and must muddle through in spite of his self-doubt, substituting whatever direction he can find within himself for clear direction from above, and keeping up with his mundane obligations at the same time.
Perhaps some of you remember The Greatest American Hero, an early 1980s TV comedy-drama about a schoolteacher who was given a suit with superpowers by mysterious aliens, but lost the instruction book. Not only does he have trouble getting the thing to work properly, he’s constantly bickering with his FBI-agent partner about how best to use it in a crisis. But somehow, in one scenario after another, they sort things out and save the day.
One of my all-time favorite TV dramas is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, about a high-school student who is expected to sneak out of the house at night to kill demons with wooden stakes and bare hands while trying to keep her grades up. She’s saved the entire world more than once, but few people know it, and the principal is constantly on her case. Buffy’s ex-boyfriend, Angel, is a 200-year-old reformed vampire who, in his spinoff series, sticks up for the underdog against powerful agents of evil acting through a Los Angeles law firm. But he can’t get anything but cryptic answers from the elusive Powers That Be.
Three more recent and unfortunately cancelled TV series echoed a similar theme. Joan of Arcadia was about a teenage girl who receives cryptic guidance from God, who appears to her in the guise of everyday people. In Wonderfalls, a young woman named Jaye who hasn’t found her aim in life gets unsolicited advice from animal figurines, and finds that when she follows it, it is for good reason. Tru Calling was about a medical student working in a morgue who discovers that every now and then time is rewound to allow her to save a life—provided she can solve the mystery of the person’s death fast enough; and she doesn’t always succeed.
Then of course there’s Spider-Man, the neurotic Everyman superhero who lives with guilt and forever agonizes over his choices, has trouble paying the rent and comes down with the flu when he is supposed to be fighting evil. Even the original superhero, my childhood favorite, Superman, the Man of Steel, is not without problems despite his invulnerability. He knows what he stands for because he had a good upbringing, but he is virtually alone on this planet—in fact he’s doubly orphaned, so neither his Krypton dad or his Earth dad are available for advice. And lest he cause trouble for those close to him, he must lead a double life and constantly guard against blowing his cover.
These are just a few of the stories that I’ve found to be inspirational complements to The Urantia Book. Many of you probably have your own favorites. C. S. Lewis is said to have remarked, “We do not need more people writing Christian books. We need more Christians writing good books.” [7] I believe that in the years to come, Urantia Book readers may create more inspirational art, science fiction, and fantasy that will help stretch people’s imaginations and make the cosmic viewpoint appealing to the modern mind.
A reader since 1969, and currently a Fellowship General Councilor, Cece Forrester is also highly active in the First Society (Chicago) as an officer and attendee at various area study groups. She was a co-editor of the Pervaded Space newsletter from 1978 to 1994, and helped compile the first directory of study groups during the 1980s. Cece has spent many years in the advertising media and communications planning field.
| Media | Title | Network or Studio | Creator or Director | Year | TV.com or IMDb.com web page |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Film | Star Wars IV: A New Hope | 20th Century Fox | George Lucas | 1977 | us.imdb.com/title/tt0076759/ |
| TV | Star Trek [Original Series] | NBC | Gene Roddenberry | 1966-1969 | www.tv.com/star-trek/show/633/summary.html |
| Film | The Day The Earth Stood Still | 20th Century Fox | Robert Wise | 1951 | us.imdb.com/title/tt0043456/ |
| TV | The Greatest American Hero | ABC | Stephen J. Cannell | 1981-1983 | www.tv.com/the-greatest-american-hero/show/586/summary.html |
| TV | Buffy The Vampire Slayer | WB/UPN | Joss Whedon | 1997-2003 | www.tv.com/buffy-the-vampire-slayer/show/10/summary.html |
| TV | Angel | WB | Joss Whedon | 1999-2004 | www.tv.com/angel/show/12/summary.html |
| TV | Joan of Arcadia | CBS | Barbara Hall | 2003-2005 | www.tv.com/joan-of-arcadia/show/17466/summary.html |
| TV | Wonderfalls | FOX | Todd Holland, Bryan Fuller | 2004 | www.tv.com/wonderfalls/show/18158/summary.html |
| TV | Tru Calling | FOX | Jon Harmon Feldman | 2003-2005 | www.tv.com/tru-calling/show/17237/summary.html |
| Film | Spider-Man | Sony Pictures | Sam Raimi | 2002 | www.imdb.com/title/tt0145487/ |
| Film | Superman | Warner Bros. | Richard Donner | 1978 | www.imdb.com/title/tt0078346/ |
| Comics | The Amazing Spider-Man | Marvel Comics | Created by Stan Lee | 1963 | |
| Comics | Superman | DC Comics | Created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster | 1938 |
There is in the mind of God a plan which embraces every creature of all his vast domains, and this plan is an eternal purpose of boundless opportunity, unlimited progress, and endless life. And the infinite treasures of such a matchless career are yours for the striving! [UB 32:5.7]
George Lucas, A New Hope, The Star Wars Trilogy (Ballantine Books, 1995) ↩︎
C. S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet (Scribner Classics Edition, 1996) ↩︎
C. S. Lewis, Perelandra: A Novel (Scribner Classics Edition, 1996) ↩︎
Ibid. ↩︎
C. S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength: A Modern Fairy-Tale for Grown-Ups (Scribner Classics Edition, 1996) ↩︎
Lewis, Perelandra ↩︎
Douglas Gresham, quoted in article in Chicago Tribune, November 20, 2005. ↩︎