© 2008 Maurice Migneault, original and translation
© 2008 Olga López, translation
© 2008 Urantia Association of Spain
This text is intended for people unfamiliar with The Urantia Book, and aims to gently and respectfully introduce them to some of the concepts and teachings this wonderful book provides. We must always be mindful of the need to build trust before presenting knowledge. It’s important to know what someone needs before offering them anything.
If we fill a glass with water, we can rightly say that it contains water. But if we place it at the bottom of a river, the evidence saves us from saying it contains water, for it is submerged. The same applies to the human body: it is useless to say that it contains life, for it is literally bathed in it. The vital forces that animate it are not only found within, but surround it everywhere. This explains why health can be so fragile and life so tenacious. Not only do we cling to life, it also clings to us. On the contrary, if we decide to abandon it, it will not hold us back by force. Life can be very tenacious, but it never clings to those who do not want it. Of course, there are people who sincerely want to die, but what they truly want is to put an end to suffering, not to life.
When a man and a woman conceive a child, they don’t give life, but transmit it. What they transmit is very much alive, but it’s not life itself. Life is much larger and more complex than it is to contain. When they buy a computer, they’re not buying the Internet, but the tool to use it. Therefore, whether it’s a newborn or a simple seed of wheat, it’s not a new life that emerges, but a new expression of life. There’s a big difference!
However, in our efforts to define what life truly is, we must not limit ourselves to describing the biological mechanisms that sustain it. It is also important to consider its usefulness, its reason for being, its purpose.
It would be difficult for us to understand what music is if we were only able to hear a single note. So, let’s not forget that the physical body is only the material aspect of life. There is also a spiritual aspect. But who’s to say that between these two extremes there isn’t a whole scale of progression? Is it conceivable that we can pass directly from our coarse animal state to the sublime state of pure spirit?
If we talk about life, we must also talk about evolution, because in some ways, this is its driving force. Evolution doesn’t happen by chance; it’s willed and planned. There’s an element of chance, of course, but like any game of chance, there are rules to follow. You don’t just jump in from anywhere or at any time. The algae had to appear before the fish so they’d have something to eat.
But this biological evolution must certainly have a purpose. For wouldn’t the creation of thought, and ultimately reflective thought, be the prerequisite for the use of free will, one of the key elements of spiritual growth?
When biological evolution reaches its goal (thinking man), it remains active, but this time on another level of existence: the spiritual level. If biological evolution consists of a progressive increase in the results of the use of energy, spiritual evolution, for its part, consists of a progressive increase in our capacity to love.
Everything is alive, even death! Why not? If it’s the end of one life, it must certainly be the beginning of the next. Whatever it is, you can’t talk about death without talking about life. How can you describe darkness without talking about light?
We might say, half-jokingly, that death is simply the absence of knowing how to live. But this statement is not without meaning, because one of the manifestations of life is continuous interaction with the environment. That which ceases to interact, to reproduce itself, that severs its human relationships, is dying, and in that sense, demonstrates the absence of knowing how to live.
Despite its definitive nature, death is only one of the stages of growth. Everything that is alive must have been born, grown, and reproduced biologically, intellectually, or spiritually. Next comes the phase of decline, old age, which ends with biological death. This electrochemical mechanism that is the body has then finished playing its part. Then, as far as humans are concerned, if the soul they harbor is destined to survive, it will continue its endless growth in one world or another.
In the afterlife, we will surely have growth cycles like those of animal life on Earth, but the final phase of “death” will take on a different meaning and will resemble a birth, a transition.
We can draw an analogy with a crustacean that sheds its old shell to make way for a new, larger one. This step is simply a natural growth process for it. This transformation is comparable to what awaits us outside our current fleshy shell.
We speak with curiosity about eternity, but what would be its appeal if it were devoid of life? And how can we access this endless state, if not through our soul? Since it is our vehicle to the afterlife, let’s take a closer look at what it’s made of…
What could our soul be a reflection of our spiritual growth if it couldn’t grow? And if it can grow, it must have been born someday. But what can it feed on? It feeds on the spiritual counterpart (the intention) of our thoughts and actions. In everything we do or think, the intention is always what counts, no matter how disastrous the outcome!
Therefore, this growth of the soul is based on the moral value of the decisions we make. But what tools do we have at our disposal to make these decisions?
We have three tools at our disposal. The first is the fragment of God that dwells within us and offers us that attraction toward truth, beauty, and goodness. The second tool is called free will, which allows us to be responsible for our decisions and have the sovereign right to grow through our mistakes. The third tool is called personality, which is also a gift from God and represents continuity in change. It is neither identity, which is acquired or given, nor character, which is forged through our efforts, but something different and unique in the entire universe. Personality is what allows us to preserve that freshness of soul that makes us capable, even at a very advanced age, of loving as intensely and spontaneously as we did at five years old.
If he didn’t have that fragment of God within him, man would be like a compass without a needle. If he weren’t sovereign thanks to his free will, he wouldn’t be free to make decisions and, consequently, couldn’t grow from them. And finally, if he didn’t have a personality to unify his life, he would be like a weather vane under the shifting winds of adversity.
Let’s now return to eternity. If we consider it linearly, with the eternal past on one side and the eternal future on the other, we must admit that we are somewhere on that line. And if we are exactly in the center, that would mean that we would have no more past than future, or vice versa. This demonstration would in itself be the affirmation that eternity has an end. Therefore, that shouldn’t be a good clue to understanding it.
Eternity must be an eternal present moment where time does not exist, and where time does not exist, the same thing happens with distances, since they are measured in time. But then another question arises: what are we going to do with all that time that does not exist?
If we sign a contract for a temporary job, it’s normal to know exactly what our duties will be. So, wouldn’t it be normal to know what awaits us, at least in general terms, before committing to eternity?
If we are called to be like God, we can assume that our spiritual progression will have no end. And, since it is through action and service that our spiritual advancement manifests itself, perhaps in eternity we will be called to help other worlds growing like ours.
Isn’t the best way to learn to teach? And isn’t the best way to love to offer ourselves in service to our neighbor? If this is true now, why won’t it be true in eternity?
(Translated into Spanish by Maurice Migneault and Olga López)