Legacy and Inspiration
From Journal - May 2022, By Neal Waldrop, USA on May 10, 2022
In practical terms, it took over 300 years for committed Christians to evaluate and authenticate the exact list of 27 books that compose the New Testament, although a variety of devotional texts had been available in selected locations at much earlier stages. When the New Testament really did become available, and for many centuries thereafter, conversion to Christianity was not predicated on systematic study. To the contrary, the fact that the Christian faith had become the state religion of the Roman Empire caused a very high proportion of the population “to go with the flow.” Furthermore, the ranks of priests and bishops suffered a heavy infusion of time servers, opportunists, and careerists. This does not mean that all of them were insincere or that they were indifferent to the underlying religious values, just that material factors and other practical advantages caused a considerable number of human beings to seize the opportunity to benefit from imperial patronage and the government’s financial resources.
After the western half of the Roman Empire ceased to exist in 476 CE, the conversion to Christianity of the various tribes and ethnic groups that exercised authority over segments of western Europe did not stem from personal persuasion or from evangelization in any sense that we would recognize. To the contrary, specific chieftains, kinglets, and kings decided to convert, and these political decisions of theirs compelled their subjects to trail on after them. Here is the general account that appears in the highly regarded history of Christianity by the British scholar Diarmaid MacCulloch:
[2]
[3] In relation to western Europe as a whole, a considerably more influential event had occurred when Clovis was baptized in the year 496 CE (Clovis, the chieftain of the Salian Franks, unified all the Franks and became their first king). In effect, the baptism of Clovis initiated a long sequence of events that finally caused the pope to crown the Emperor Charlemagne in the year 800 CE. Around that year, Charlemagne’s troops conquered the pagan Saxons (persons living in the region of north central Germany that is still called Saxony), then converted them to Christianity by force of arms.How, then, did the Western Church convert Europe piece by piece between the thousand years which separated Constantine I from the conversion of Lithuania in 1386? At the time, those who described the experience normally used more passive and more collective language than the word ‘conversion’: a people or a community ‘accepted’ or ‘submitted to’ the Christian God and his representatives on earth. This was language which came naturally: groups mattered more than single people, and within groups there was no such thing as social equality. Most people expected to spend their lives being given orders and showing deference, so when someone ordered dramatic change, it was a question of obeying rather than making a personal choice. Once they had obeyed, the religion which they met was as much a matter of conforming to a new set of forms of worship in their community as of embracing a new set of personal beliefs. Christian missionaries were just as much at home with worldly as with supernatural power. They expected people to be unequal, that was what God wanted, and inequality was there to be used for God’s glory. Mass rallies were not their style; most evangelists were what we would call gentry or nobility, and they normally went straight to the top when preaching the faith. That way they could harvest a whole kingdom, at least as long as local rulers did not have second thoughts or take a better offer.
In much the same spirit, many native speakers of English relish the story that the monk Bede tells in Book II, Chapter 13 of his celebrated work The Ecclesiastical History of the English People. (Bede wrote in the year 731 CE, but in this particular passage he was recounting events that had occurred over one hundred years earlier.) Bede states that in the year 627 CE, King Edwin of Northumbria decided that Christianity would henceforth be the official religion for himself, for his court, and for all his people. What, Northumbria, not England or Scotland? Yes, Northumbria, for in the year 627, the kingdoms of England and Scotland had not yet been invented. Northumbria was one of various small realms that shared the terrain we now call England — in this case the northeastern portion of England that includes the city of York, as well as a limited, southeasternmost portion of the land that we currently call Scotland. In his great hall, King Edwin of Northumbria has just introduced an honored guest, a monk named Paulinus who has traipsed to Northumbria from Kent. Paulinus is draped in a long tan robe composed of a rough fabric that might reverently be called burlap; this style of apparel seems to reflect a conviction that the creator who fashioned chrysanthemums and roses and the lilies of the field prefers that his devoted servants succumb to habiliments that might more appropriately enshroud a sack of sand. A rough white cord encircles Paulinus’s waist, a cord that, if coiled and cast carefully, might suffice to lasso a wayward duck. Now Paulinus, as you may already have imagined, is visiting Northumbria because he wants King Edwin and his people to abandon pagan practices and convert to Christianity. Although the king has expressed a tentative desire to accept that summons, he has convened his counselors and advisers to hear their views. Surprisingly enough, the chief priest responsible for pagan rituals is inclined to agree, for he frankly admits that “the religion that we have hitherto professed seems valueless and powerless” (Ecclesiastical History, Book II, Chapter 13). Another of the king’s chief men concurs with that appraisal and then declares: Your Majesty, when we compare the present life of man on earth with that time of which we have no knowledge, it seems to me like the swift flight of a single sparrow through the banqueting-hall where you are sitting at dinner on a winter’s day with your thegns and counsellors. In the midst there is a comforting fire to warm the hall; outside, the storms of winter rain or snow are raging. This sparrow flies swiftly in through one door of the hall, and out through another. While he is inside, he is safe from the winter storms; but after a few moments of comfort, he vanishes from sight into the wintry world from which he came. Even so, man appears on earth for a little while; but of what went before this life or of what follows, we know nothing. Therefore, if this new teaching has brought any more certain knowledge, it seems only right that we should follow it. [Ecclesiastical History, Book II, Chapter 13] This apparently was decisive in the year 627, and Christianity then became the official religion of the Kingdom of Northumbria. Please note that King Edwin’s decision was binding on all his subjects, thereby depriving them of any opportunity to dissent or take issue with his royal edict. Thus, Bede’s story serves to epitomize the underlying reality: During the centuries that followed the collapse of the western half of the Roman Empire, the Christian faith was imposed from above by the authority of chieftains, kinglets, and kings, not as a result of any process whereby individuals were persuaded or were converted in a spiritual sense.
Throughout the Middle Ages, the Christian faith was a matter of state policy, not individual choice. Anyone who dissented publicly was actively pursued and, if possible, persuaded to recant. In contrast, however, many persistent dissenters who refused to conform to the united dictates of church and state ended up being burned at the stake.
As late as the Treaty of Westphalia (1648)
[4]— the treaty that concluded the Thirty Years War in Germany and thereby ended the entire period of the wars of religion — the operating principle in regard to religion was expressed in the Latin phrase cuius regio ejus religio. In literal terms, this means “whose the rulership, his the religion.” If we prefer a more natural and more fluent translation, we can interpret the phrase to mean: “The religion of the ruler shall be the religion of the people.” For all these reasons, and for yet others, the original tradition of Christianity featured the union of church and state, or at least a strong partnership involving duties and responsibilities that were interrelated and shared. The tolerance and pluralism that now prevail in the West descend from reforms that began in the 18th century, but they took approximately 100 years to be adopted in the great majority of countries having social and cultural backgrounds that are predominantly Christian. By implication, readers of The Urantia Book who have wished to apply the techniques of Christianity in order to promote and propagate the teachings of the fifth epochal revelation are approaching these questions very selectively and with a heavy dose of “presentitis,” especially since they have tended to focus almost exclusively on practices applied in North America during the last few centuries. Even if we disregarded all of the above, the plain fact of the matter is that the evangelistic campaigns conducted in North America during the 19th and 20th centuries were heavily influenced by — and largely dependent on — a social and cultural environment that was predominantly Christian. This social and cultural environment is actually a net disadvantage for persons who wish to promote interest in the teachings of The Urantia Book because the fifth epochal revelation includes many aspects disputing and contradicting conventional beliefs that are crucial to the Christian tradition. The atonement doctrine is the most obvious example, the idea that Jesus died on the cross to atone for our sins and appease the wrath of an angry Father. Furthermore, persons who seek to promote the teachings of The Urantia Book cannot possibly offer the “deal” that has been a prominent selling point for advocates of Christianity for approximately 2,000 years: the claim that becoming a Christian and following traditional Christian teachings will enable the believer “to go to heaven,” whereas, as a corollary, someone who refuses to believe or who refuses to conform may be consigned to eternal punishment. In contrast, the revelators do not tell us that if someone accepts the teachings of The Urantia Book, this commitment ensures that he or she will survive into the afterlife.[2] Pages 342-343 of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years by Diarmaid MacCulloch. New York: Viking, 2010. [3] The historian Diarmaid MacCulloch comments: “Bede probably made the speech up, as historians did at the time, but he made it up because he thought that his readers would think it plausible” (pages 343-344 of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years). [4] From political and diplomatic perspectives, many historians declare that the Treaty of Westphalia created the nation-state system that still prevails today, although it is reasonable and persuasive to point out that the Charter of the United Nations (adopted in 1945) modified the nation-state system in certain ways that are significant and substantial.
The What Book?
From Journal - May 2022, By Christopher Ross, USA on May 10, 2022
What I did not bring to my first reading of The Urantia Book was even the most elementary understanding of any of the natural sciences. Although as a child I was very interested in astronomy, it quickly became a mathematical maze, light years beyond the basic arithmetic over which I can still stumble. Later, high school biology and an introductory college course in geology allowed me to graduate having met, barely, in each case, the absolute minimum requirement. Chemistry? Physics? Fuhgeddaboudit, as we say in Noo Yawk. Not knowing a proton from an electron or a wave from a particle, I was doubly stymied reading Paper 42, for example, all about energy, and Papers 57 through 65 about the history of Urantia, complete with mineral and fossil deposits, dinosaurs, the shifting of land masses and the cooling of oceans. As I read these Papers—often watching the words float by of their own accord—I wondered what the great minds would have made of it all. What would Einstein and Darwin have thought? What would Isaac Newton have said? Or Copernicus? Or Galileo? And don’t forget Carl Sagan, and Stephen Hawking, who called himself an atheist. Surely, they would have had one “Aha!” moment after another, denied to me by my lack of education.
The Hazards of a Decimal Planet
From Journal - May 2022, By Claude Flibotte, Canada on May 10, 2022
We know from the revelators that our beloved blue planet is a decimal planet [58:0.1]. This means that on every tenth planet where the Life Carriers implant life, it undergoes new mechanical, chemical, and electrical mobilization patterns [57:8.8], that is, new life forms to develop possible improvements.
