Readers of The Urantia Book returning from IC’14, the International Conference in Amherst, MA, talked about the theme of “spiritual fragrance” that kept emerging in conversations. Ironically, the phrase only occurs once in The UB, in a description of Jerusem as “spiritually fragrant,” but there are a few similar quotes, one of which I’ll include later in this post.
In a recent blog (August 4th), I explored the topic of love as a duty, the “greatest commandment” to be obeyed. There are other facets to that shining diamond. There is Joy in love. Some great pieces of music evoke a presence of tenderness that comes into a room and touches your heart, opening it to the good, to God. Mozart’s music opened a window into my spiritual emotions, sang out from the window ledge in a voice that expressed my inexpressible feelings of worship and reverence. I’ve felt this from other composers as well, Dvorak and Rutter being others. One morning my meditation found good companionship in the Kyrie of Mozart’s C minor Mass playing on the radio (http://www.kdfc.com/). It captured a feeling of the Father’s presence, a source of love and tenderness that sweetened the vaults of space.
The C minor Mass, a tapestry of music weaving together many meanings, taps into deep ancestral memory and profound emotions for me. The greatness of God is also in it, a greatness that does not overwhelm, dominate or crush one’s feelings or aspirations. Though we might find such loving tenderness from the First Source and Center overwhelming!
In this music Mozart understood in full, perhaps by means of a revelation to his soul, the comforting care of a Creator for his children, a refuge from the confusion and cacophony of a strife-torn world. “Religion is a revelation to man's soul dealing with spiritual realities which the mind alone could never discover or fully fathom,” (146:3.1), as Jesus said to the Greek philosopher at Ramah. So too can music go beyond thought to make a revelation to the soul.
Pope Francis is hearing the same music I’ve been hearing. In his seasonal message last December he emphasized the tenderness of God, “If the father and mother spoke to them normally, the child would still understand; but they want to take up the manner of speaking of the child. They come close, they become children. And so it is with the Lord.” … the father and the mother also say ridiculous things to the child: ‘Ah, my love, my toy . . .’ and all these things. … This is the language of the Lord, the language of the love of a father, of a mother. The word of the Lord? Yes, we understand what He tells us. But we also see how He says it. And we must do what the Lord does, do what He says and do it as He says it: with love, with tenderness …” (http://en.radiovaticana.va/storico/2013/12/12/pope_francis_be_silent,_so_we_can_hear_the_tenderness_of_god/en1-755064)
Above the din, the noise of warfare, voices come forward to meet our yearning for the triumph of love. I recently read Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder’s new book “Distances,” a collection of their correspondence. Wendell tells his friend, poet Gary Snyder, that he regrets how far he took adolescent rebellion in his youth. I think Berry’s late understanding in life of the hurt such an estrangement can cause recalled my own experiences of regret, pain I allowed, love I failed to give my family members. My love fell short of what I aspire to now in my spiritual or religious life, measured by my experiences of God’s love.
When the curtains of sorrow are drawn back on a new morning, the sweet and tender affection of the Creator of our universe is revealed. I praise the greatness of the Divine whose love we sometimes stumble over where it lays in the road, where we neglected it, abandoned on the path as we rushed away in haste. Now inspired by God’s love, “the greatest thing in the universe” (56:10.20) we are led to name it God the Father. May people find his love behind the curtains they’ve closed on the world for self-protection, behind the memory of their own fathers who may have let them down.
“Try my heart, Lord … for your loving-kindness is before my eyes,” (Psa. 26:2-3). Long before Jesus made a “new revelation” of the divine nature, the ancient Psalmist discerned the goodness of Jehovah, or the Most High (whatever name they knew God by at the time). Jesus quoted from the ancient scriptures, Psalm 92: “It is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord and to sing praises to the name of the Most High, to acknowledge his loving-kindness every morning and his faithfulness every night, for God has made me glad through his work.” (also The UB, 146:2.15)
As we approach Jesus’ upcoming birthday, let us remember this loving-kindness in action as he lived and taught a life of service. “There was something gracious and inspiring about the personality of Jesus which invariably attracted young people. He always made them feel at ease in his presence. Perhaps his great secret in getting along with them consisted in the twofold fact that he was always interested in what they were doing, while he seldom offered them advice unless they asked for it.” (129:1.9)
We sometimes find the most elevated and beautiful definitions in The UB. Here for example, the word graciousness is defined: “graciousness is the aroma of friendliness which emanates from a love-saturated soul,” (171:7.1) a description of Jesus in the world. Not a love that was commanded (as described in my last post on love), but one that flowed out of him quite naturally. Perhaps by dutifully following the commandment to love every day, we too will arrive at a more natural state of joyful loving and relaxed giving.
“Jesus spread good cheer everywhere he went. He was full of grace and truth. His associates never ceased to wonder at the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth. You can cultivate gracefulness, but graciousness is the aroma of friendliness which emanates from a love-saturated soul.” (171:7.1)
Many of these quotes were recently shared in an email conversation with readers who reported the recurring theme of spiritual fragrance at IC’14, a conversation that inspired this blog. “Genuine religion renders the religionist socially fragrant and creates insights into human fellowship.” (99:4.1)
“My religion is kindness,” said Dalai Lama and such a love has the power to save the planet.
“Love is infectious, and when human devotion is intelligent and wise, love is more catching than hate. But only genuine and unselfish love is truly contagious. If each mortal could only become a focus of dynamic affection, this benign virus of love would soon pervade the sentimental emotion-stream of humanity to such an extent that all civilization would be encompassed by love, and that would be the realization of the brotherhood of man.” (100:4.6)
