© 2004 Stephen Zendt
© 2004 The Christian Fellowship of Students of The Urantia Book
We all love stories, in one form or another. Our Western culture has served up many entertaining forms of storytelling. European peoples, during the Middle Ages, listened to the Troubadours, wandering entertainers who brought the news and told tales with musical accompaniment. These minstrels were often the only means of communication in a time of rampant superstition and warfare, where each fiefdom was a world unto itself, and travel was dangerous and limited. Almost no one knew how to read or write except scribes and those in the monasteries. The storyteller was an important feature of medieval life.
Later on, after Gutenberg had perfected moveable type and the printing press, storytelling began to appear in print, first as the Bible, and then in the form of novels and poetry. In the past century, we have witnessed the explosion of the various aspects of “The Media.” From Los Angeles came the silent movies, then the “talkies,” which gave way to Technicolor extravaganzas like “The Ten Commandments,” “Gone With The Wind,” and “The Wizard of Oz.”
Radio presented not just news, but soap operas and dramatic programs, such as the notorious “War of the Worlds,” which terrorized listeners who actually believed they were hearing an alien invasion of our planet. As technological progress brought more and more innovations to the public, something called television gradually crept into our lives. This new medium told us stories like never before. It was movies and radio and live entertainment all rolled into one box. We had an appetite for whatever the glowing screen might be showing. When I was a boy, our family would actually pick up the dining room table and carry it into the living room so that we could have dinner and watch a favorite television show. My mother was unwilling to give in to “TV Trays.”
This addiction to television became even more acute with the introduction of color and the development of audacious new types of programming. The proliferation of news coverage following the assassination of John Kennedy began to convince much of the viewing public that television was important as well as entertaining. So, for decades we have been glued to the tube, which has rewarded our loyalty with a proliferation of programming and channels that offers everything, all day, every day, as long as you can pay the price and you have the remote control.
What does all this mean, in terms of our appetite for hearing, seeing, and feeling the effect of a well-told tale? How devoted are we to favorite authors, filmmakers, and television programs?
How many of us became entranced with The Fifth Epochal Revelation because of the many marvelous stories? Van and Amadon, Adam and Eve, Adamson and Ratta, Machiventa and Abraham, the evolution of our human understanding of God, Jesus in Rome, the planetary rebellion-all are legendary containers of our cultural and religious past. The storytelling skills of our unseen friends have given us our unknown history, and in so doing, they have pointed us toward our unrevealed planetary destiny. Someday, we will join the universe circuits again, and grow toward Light and Life.
What does it mean to form a tale, to see a story through from the beginning, on to the middle, up to the end? It means that the storyteller creates and controls the conscious contents of the tale. Those of us who listen or read or behold events absorb the details and feel the emotions. We are stirred or influenced by the unfolding of events, the evocation of character, the run of the plot, and the unique junctures of history. In short, we become absorbed in the story? As a boy, I would use a flashlight so that I could continue to read under the covers, long after my bedtime. Sometimes I lasted longer than the batteries. Next morning, groggy from lack of sleep, the story was still running in my mind. I could not wait to resume my reading. I was captivated by what the storyteller had assembled for me.
I am convinced that the maker of stories is one who practices a very high art, and our Master, Joshua Ben Joseph, learned his art very well indeed. Here, then, are some principles of the art of story telling which I have perceived:
Now, let us consider the contemporary predicament of our crumbling Western Civilization.
We live in a world of accelerating cultural change. Many of the dependable assumptions of the past no longer provide us any helpful clues to determine what we are experiencing as a culture. Our various media tempt us with advertising which uses none too subtle messages — sexual and materialistic accomplishments and unearned luxury — to entice us to spend and become debtors for possessions which lead us into further temptation. Envy, greed, and lust are now successful sales tools.
Worse yet, we find that the materialistic rewards of our capitalistic system are causing severe environmental damage to our planet. We are poisoning our air, water, and earth. It would seem that we cannot avoid poisoning our thinking, as well. We read, hear, see, and most awful, we sometimes experience firsthand the dysfunctional, angry behavior of individuals whose level of maturity is childish at best. We are exposed to stunning displays in films, television, news, and novels: Everything from road rage to outrage, from jealousy to hostility, from indifference to aggressive bullying.
We know from our reading of The Urantia Book that “impatience is a spirit poison.” (UB 48:7.20) We also know that “unreasoned fear is a master intellectual fraud …,” (UB 48:7.4) and that “anger is like a stone hurled into a hornet’s nest.” (UB 48:7.20) Yet we find ourselves prey to these very conflicting emotional torments almost daily in urban life. Even more concentrated is the tension of interpersonal relationships, both in the workplace, and most frequently at home.
Our ideals call us to be charitable, ethical, kind, and good. We are aware that what we say and how we say it may soothe and comfort, and even give joy to a troubled soul. However, the moment-to-moment encounters of the real world so often leave us regretful for the way in which we have treated other people, the way we have ignored our spiritual impulses and ideals. We live in a polluted civilization. For me, the most pernicious form of interpersonal pollution is the pervasive context of lying, or of fraud. Honest individuals, sincere folks, genuine friends are such treasures that we simply must do all we can to strengthen and preserve our relationships. “Love is the desire to do good to others.” (UB 56:10.21)
The concentration of spirit poisons which our secular materialistic culture has permitted to grow and flourish should alarm us all, and move us to clean the air, to purify the water, and to refresh our spiritual lives. If we have been hiding our light beneath our “comfy bushel basket,” it is high time to realize that our light is needed, and it cannot be seen while in hiding.
The poison of contemporary cultural atheism and nihilism, the materialistic indifference of consumerism, and the apathy of political naiveté have brought us to the brink of environmental disaster and economic relativism. We know we can do better. The gospel of the Kingdom, as our revelation teaches, not only provides an effective antidote for the poisons of our disintegrating culture, it also grants us a measure of mercy and grace which heals the stings and slights of our crazy world. But this gospel cannot be contained within us. It is only an effective solvent and balm as we share it, as we carry it over to others. We perform our sacred duty to the Supreme as we establish a community with our loved ones, as we promote honest communication among ourselves, and as we realize the necessity of stewardship for our planet. The love of God in the community of believers becomes a real sustenance for each of us, and we will do well to grow it and preserve it wherever we can.
Where can you find short, succinct tales of spiritual uplift and deeply personal meaning which can compare with the parables of the Master? His great genius for utilizing common experience to illustrate powerful, transforming truth is unparalleled in human literature. His method of teaching was spoken storytelling. (No one, not even the Alpheus twins, was passing out copies of his speeches.) The parables permitted him to teach believers, while keeping unbelievers in the dark. And, his way of telling these lovely little gems was obviously unforgettable. Many of us knew of the parables before we knew of The Urantia Book. The gospel narratives of the New Testament, with all their tampering and garbling, still convey one simple reality. The mustard seed, the pearl of great price, the slothful steward, the prodigal son, all speak to the soul, saying: The kingdom is within you, and it grows as you grow in grace and truth. You manifest the Kingdom by giving your gifts to the world around you. Love and community grow, in the great family of believers, toward the brotherhood of all humanity. We are taking the first steps toward this awesome planetary journey.
Jesus spoke to multitudes of people of many levels of intellect and culture. Not all of them understood all that he had to teach. I would wager, on the other hand, that those who were sincere in seeking to enter the Kingdom heard in the parables something they could remember. They heard something they could relate to their own lives, as they lived under the rule of Rome, in the land of the Hebrews. Later, Greeks found the parables memorable as well. These believers sought to be baptized, and they began to follow Jesus and the apostles wherever they went.
The miraculous transforming power of the parables, their power to transmute the poison of personal persecution into the blessings of friendship with God rests, I believe, in the open interpretation of meaning for each individual. The parable speaks to you in your need, and it enfolds your consciousness in real healing truth. The effect may not be instantaneous. This is not a miraculous healing in which twisted limbs are suddenly made whole. It is, for me, a yeasting of awareness, a seasoning of reasoning, which bears spirit fruit in due time.
I love this comment of Dr. Ervin Seale concerning Jesus’ parables: “The world’s greatest teacher of things spiritual used the highest art of the teacher, the parable. For the parable does not fill the mind with descriptive facts, but opens the seeing eye and the hearing ear until the mind is aware of the treasures it already possesses.” [1]
It is an essential element of human free will that no one can dictate to you how you will receive or interpret a parable. You have the freedom to accept or to reject. You make meaning in your inner life of that which you remember. If you have a need met by the parable, you will recall what you heard, and feast on it in your life within. Like the lost coin which is found, or the talents returned double their value, a discovery is made of new life and new meanings. The Kingdom begins as a seed but sprouts and grows mighty in the good soil of the believer’s mind.
One of the features of the Morontia life is the recognition, summation, and distillation of the life in the flesh. It seems that all of everything we have done with worthwhile results, whether for others or for our own growth, is to become a possession of our growth potential. What we carry on into the Paradise embrace is a unique and irreplaceable reality in the universe. Our Agondonter personality is the one gift we have to give. There is no other method, no other source for obtaining the experience and the perspective that only we can provide. I believe we are being transformed, first in mind, but later through the Spirit, into evolutionary masterpieces of significance. We will fit into a place that needs our insight and our experience to become useful to the cosmos. We will join with trillions of other personalities, outpouring praise and thanksgiving, which will at last satisfy our longing for fulfillment. We will have discovered our place in the heart of God.
Our preview of this satisfaction and achievement can be found in the parable of the prodigal son. It is healing and heartening to realize that God looks upon our road of life, and God sees us returning, even before we know God’s joy and welcome home. The parable seasons our memory of events in our own biography. A true interpretation of life requires insight into origins ( the legacy of our mother and father), perception of history ( the sequence of events that has borne us along until now, our spiritual autobiography), and the faith leap toward our Paradise destiny.
We grant personality to our Mystery Monitor, and our Father Fragment takes us home for good.
Leavening and cleansing and healing are actions these parables of Jesus will provide, as they live in our minds, feeding our hungry hearts. They are wonderworkers of the soul, companions of the Spirit in the long work of transformation. With the receptive openness of a little child, I recommend, once again, a reading of the parables. If you hunger for righteousness, they are riches and food aplenty.
Stephen Zendt lives in California and works in financial services. A long time reader of The Urantia Book, he was involved in a project to record TUB on tape, served on the Fellowship General Council for nine years, and was host for a weekly study group in San Francisco for twenty years.
Seal, Ervin. Learn to Live, “The Meaning of the Parables,” p. 23. William Morrow, N.Y., 1955 ↩︎