© 1996 Gard Jameson
© 1996 The Fellowship for readers of The Urantia Book
By Gard Jameson
In the early days of the church, Jesus was expected to return very soon. Said Peter, “We are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth.”
When Jesus did not appear, there was disappointment and the realization that it would be difficult to live up to the moral standards which he had established. Members of the early church knew that their society was morally shipwrecked and that it would be best to flee the sinking ship.
In so doing, they sought solitude and silence in the deserts surrounding their towns. A story of one of the early desert fathers, Abba Arsenius, illustrates a common experience amongst the members of this early community.
Arsenius was a tutor who lived comfortably in the court of the Roman Emperor Theodosius in the fourth century. From a material perspective, he had everything that a person could want. But Arsenius experienced what Augustine characterized as divine unrest. While living in the palace, Arsenius prayed, “Lord, lead me in the way of salvation.” Arsenius sensed a clear response telling him, “Arsenius, flee from the world and you will be saved.”
Arsenius fled to the desert outside of Alexandria. There he prayed once again, “Lord, lead me in the way of salvation.” In response to this prayer came the answer, “Arsenius, be solitary, be silent, be at rest. These are the roots of a life without sin.”
In this simple story we are given the essence of what comprises the contemplative tradition, the tradition of inner communion, in the West. There are three key elements to inner communion:
From our personal communion with the Father emerges our ability to Love and serve our frothers and sisters.
A very interesting institution arose in the tradition of Christianity as a result of this desire to seek solitude, be still, and rest in God. This was the monastic tradition, again, a response to the realization that Jesus was perhaps not returning as quickly as anticipated in the days of Peter and Paul. From a desire to preserve the values of the Christian tradition evolved a movement that separated itself from the mainstream of what was perceived as a polluted society.
Since that historical time, there has existed the mistaken notion that contemplative prayer, inner communion, is a practice reserved for the monastic community. It is clear, however, in an understanding of Jesus’ message and from studying The Urantia Book, that the practice of the contemplative prayer of worship is recommended to any person who would sincerely follow the teachings of Jesus.
As already noted, contemplative prayer or worship is at the root of a life of faith. It should be the first and last step we take in our daily spiritual journey. The Urantia Book states that “the Father desires all his creatures to be in personal communion with him.” From the first page of the revelation to the last, we are invited to such personal communion.
From our personal communion with the Father emerges our ability to love and serve our brothers and sisters. Without the practice of that personal communion on a daily basis, our life of faith is at best a facade for our shallow egos.
In his book Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster writes, “Superficiality is the curse of our age … The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people or gifted people, but for deep people … the spiritual disciplines urge us to be the answer to a hollow world … [W]e must not be led to believe that the disciplines are only for spiritual giants … God intends the disciplines of the spiritual life to be for ordinary human beings, people who have jobs, who care for children, who wash dishes and mow lawns.”
Inner communion is a daily practice which seeks solitude, a place apart, enters the stillness within our soul, and rests in the purity of our relationship with our loving heavenly Father.
This practice is a simple one. All that is required is our intention to take the time, first, to create the place; second, to be still; and, third, to turn our attention to God, experiencing ourselves as the beloved son or daughter that we are.
This, indeed, is the heart of the gospel, that we should inwardly experience ourselves as the beloved, and then outwardly, in that love, serve others.
In the fourth century, at the outset of John Cassian’s conferences with his spiritual mentor, Abba Isaac, this young monk from Dalmatia experienced an incredible epiphany as he listened to this great spiritual leader relate how the love of God manifests itself in the life of one who practices the prayer of the heart. When John returned to his sleeping quarters that night, he was spiritually soaring until, in a panic, he turned to his friend Germanos and exclaimed, “But how do we do it?”
The next morning the two young lads flew across the desert sands to the home of Abba Isaac and learned the practice of what is today popularly referred to as the prayer of the heart or centering prayer.
It is only within the last 30 years, since Vatican II, that the monastic community has opened its doors to share this practice of contemplative prayer with the world. Realizing the threat of emigration of Catholics seeking a genuine experience of God’s love to the traditions of the East, several monastic leaders in the Catholic tradition have begun to share the practices taught in the desert centuries ago, passed down through the generations from one monastic community to the next.
Among the individuals most influential in the teaching of these practices is Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk, who said, “Monastic prayer begins not so much with considerations as with a return to the heart, finding one’s deepest center, awakening to the profound depths of our being in the presence of God, who is the source of our being and of our life.”
Basil Pennington, a student of Merton, writes that Merton “spoke frequently of attaining to the experience of God by going to one’s center and passing through it to the center of God.”
In the words of The Urantia Book, in our solitude we move to silence, “the dim realms of embryonic soul-consciousness,” and from there we move in faith to personal communion with Him, “to the borderland of spiritconsciousness” dwelling in our depths.
Knowing how much God loves each of us, why do we not run to embrace him at every opportunity?
Such personal communion is not a function of our intellects, although intellect is needed to create the intention of the soul’s movement toward God. The pathway to such inner communion has been illuminated for us by the teachings in The Urantia Book and by spiritual pioneers through the centuries like John Cassian; Teresa of Avila; John of the Cross; John Climacus, author of The Cloud of Unknowing; Rufus Jones; and so many others.
In moving toward personal communion, The Urantia Book states that all that is required is four attitudes: humility; a hunger for personal goodness; a teachable, receptive heart; and purity of soul, a simple childlike faith.
Knowing how much God loves each of us, why do we not run to embrace him at every opportunity? Why do we not set aside time each day for this experience of personal communion? There is a wellspring of love irradiating every part of our being if we would but open our hearts in faith and experience ourselves as the beloved.
We live in a society not unlike that of ancient Rome, with moral foundations eroding and crumbling. Ours, however, is not to flee to the desert, but to make sanctuaries of solitude in our own homes. Ours is not to leave the obligations of family and community, but to take the time to create a still space within our minds on a daily basis to engage in inner communion.
Ours is not to miss our calling to serve the spread of the revelation and to engage in all manner of projects to this end, but in doing these things, we should be ever mindful that our success in promoting the fifth epochal revelation depends first and foremost upon knowing how to rest in God, and to develop this personal communion with the Father so that we can in faith and in fact manifest a “fatherly love” in everything we do. We are called to express a higher love which emanates from our soul’s movement toward unbroken communion with the very source of Divine Love.
Remember the story of Mary and Martha. Mary sat at the Master’s feet drinking in the spirit of his word while Martha was busy in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Both were doing something important. Martha was indeed being of service in the kingdom, but Mary was refreshing her soul in personal communion with the Master.
And said Jesus, “Only one thing is really worthwhile, and since Mary has chosen this good and needful part, I shall not take it away from her … [W] hen will both of you learn to live as I have taught you: both serving in cooperation and both refreshing your souls in unison?”
In his life and teachings Jesus placed a strong priority on our personal communion with the Father. Living faith is predicated upon this personal communion.
On the last page of The Urantia Book we read, “The great challenge of modern man is to achieve better communications with the divine monitor that dwells within the human mind. Man’s greatest adventure in the flesh consists in the well-balanced and sane effort to advance the borders of self-consciousness out through the dim realms of embryonic soul-consciousness in a wholehearted effort to reach the borderland of spirit-consciousness — contact with the divine presence.” UB 196:3.34
God is existential; the essence of his infinite being is love. We are called to a personal relationship with God, simply to be with his loving presence. “The Father desires all his creatures to be in personal communion with him.”
God created us for relationships. Relationship is not so much a function of the depths of our intellect, it is a function of our desire to be in personal communion with the Father, and through him, with each other. Teresa of Avila, who was fully alive in the spirit, has a beautiful image. She saw her life as two great rivers: One river coursing its way to God in prayer and the other moving into the world in service.
On UB 159:5.7 a midwayer tells us that Jesus saw the worship of God and the service of man as the sum and substance of his religion. The Fatherhood of God is merely words without sincere worship of God, without intimate personal communion on a regular basis. The Brotherhood of Man is merely words without closeness to God, without that spirit guidance which leads us ever to serve our fellows.
The revelation of God the Supreme as the God of achievement is sublime. The knowledge that angels constantly guide our footsteps is reassuring. The fact that the universe provides endless opportunity for us to learn and grow in perfection and that life is truly an exciting adventure that goes on eternally across the face of infinity is inspiring. But the revelation of God the Father as unconditional love totally eclipses all other teachings.
This revelation is our core experience. Our call is to allow ourselves to experience the fullness of God’s being, that pure love, and then to manifest that indescribable affection toward all of his creation.
The earth cries out for God’s divine love, not knowing that it is here already. In the name of service we should not let our personal anxieties and agendas distract us from the priority of personal communion with our Father. May we have the courage to dive deeply into our own souls and there partake of the divine relationship and from there share this personal revelation with every person we meet.
Gard Jameson is chairman of the Fraternal Relations committee and has served on the General Council since 1988. He and his wife, Florence, an obstetrician-gynecologist, and two children, Michael and Julia, live in Boulder City, Nevada.