Return to Asilomar

I first visited Asilomar State Conference Grounds outside of Pacific Grove, California in fall of 1984.  As avid readers of The Urantia Book, my dad and I traveled up there to attend a conference hosted by FUSLA, the First Urantia Society of Los Angeles.  I don’t remember much about the presentations or breakout sessions, but there were some definite highlights beyond the awe-inspiring beauty of Asilomar itself:

• We met a woman who told us about something called A Course in Miracles.  We would unwittingly give the course to each other as gifts the following Christmas, and it continues to resonate with us to this day.

• FUSLA brought in an incredible harpist for the Saturday night plenary session.  This was years before anyone had heard of New Age, but this gentleman took us far into the future with his vast and soaring cosmic jams, to which we all hummed and vocalized like Celestial Artisans.

• For some reason, my hand was the only one of about three hundred in the room that went up when they asked for a volunteer to offer a prayer at the closing session.  It was my first experience with public speaking, and all I can say is I must have been moved to speak because I was way too scared to think of anything on my own up there on that dais in front of all those faces focused solely on me and my quivering voice…

• Finally, we met Norman and Diana, who were starting a Urantia study group in the San Diego area.  We would remain friends for years afterward.

So this was the backdrop to my plans when I was coming up with “An Itinerary” for this trip.  I knew I wanted to drive up California’s Coast Highway, which I had never done, and Asilomar is a nice halfway point between LA and the Bay Area.

Then, having remembered fondly the many study group sessions I’d had with Norman and Diana (and Dad and Christina—even Andy), I started wondering if maybe there might be an active study group that I could visit while in Boulder, the first leg of my journey beyond Nebraska.  Some poking around on the web revealed three active groups in Boulder, and choosing one wasn’t hard: I opted for the group hosted by Mo Siegel, Urantia Foundation President and local tea maker (think Sleepytime).  I adjusted my plans to fit their meeting schedule and booked a room at the Briar Rose for the 19th of June.

Having attended sessions with only two other study groups (one of which we made up as we went along), I was unsure what to expect of this one.  My first surprise was the number of people who showed up at the Siegel’s gorgeous home near Chatauqua Park on the outskirts of Boulder.  There were nearly 40 of us there in Mo and Jennifer’s living room, in contrast to the half-dozen or so I’d encountered in the other study groups.  All were very friendly, warmly welcoming this traveler into their company.  Mo took his seat and announced that, because this was the final meeting before the summer break, we would conclude the usual readings and discussion with a Remembrance Supper.  Yes!

This particular study group focuses on Part Four of The Urantia Book, “The Life and Teachings of Jesus,” which is not uncommon for study groups, as it is the easiest and, in many ways, most fulfilling part of the book to read and discuss with others.  On that particular night, this group would delve into “School Days in Nazareth” through “The Tenth Year (A.D. 4).”

In these sections we watch the young Jesus as he vacillates between boyhood joys and a developing sense of injustice.  Jesus is an apt student, so he’s excused from school for one week each month—weeks in which he alternates stays with his fishermen relatives and those living on farms in the countryside.  He greatly enjoys these visits and is hard pressed to say which he prefers, fishing or farming.  At the same time, he develops an interest in the arts, learning to play the harp and leading a group of young boys in choral singing.  He forms a fast friendship with Nathan the potter, who supplies Jesus and a schoolmate with clay for sculpting.  The boys greatly enjoy making animal figures, and Jesus demonstrates a budding talent for the visual arts.  On Sabbath afternoons he delights in taking long walks with his father, often hiking to the summit of Nazareth’s highest hill, from which they can see much of Palestine—Joseph pointing out the many landmarks important to Jewish culture and history.

So much for boyhood joys…  Jesus, whose constant stream of insightful questioning is both fascinating and trying for his chazan, is reproached as impertinent by the parents of some of the other kids, and there is always an underlying tension between him and some of the other boys.  It all comes to a head when Jesus is caught drawing a picture of the chazan on the schoolroom floor, a clear violation of the Jewish taboo against making graven images.  Turns out one of the dullards in class had snitched on him.  The evidence is right there on the floor, and I’ll bet it was a decent likeness too.  The authorities swoop in from Jerusalem, demanding that Joseph punish the boy for his sin, and the scene is set for Jesus’ first masterful display of diplomacy.  Unfortunately, this confrontation with authority results in Jesus having to surrender any aspirations he may have entertained as an artist, and you can just see the rabbis heading back to Jerusalem muttering, Can anything good come out of Nazareth?

At one point, Jesus recites his birthday text, Isaiah 61:1, and we begin to see how the rest of his life will play out.  At this point in our discussion, Mo masterfully led us through each of the occasions on which the Master would recite this passage in various forms.  I had just recently finished reading TUB for the sixth time, and I never picked up on the numerous iterations of Jesus’ birthday text throughout the remainder of his life.  That’s why it’s so good to get out of the house and meet with others who have read the book deeply: we all notice different truths in it.

For me, what jumps out in this section is how the activities in which Jesus takes the most joy are the very ones that rise up to bite him in the butt later—either as a boy or as an adult.  Worse, it is the adults around him who unintentionally set the boy up for persecution.  The potter gives Jesus clay to mold into figurines; then Jesus is reprimanded for drawing an image.  Joseph takes Jesus for long hikes on the Sabbath; then some 20 years later the Pharisees accuse him of breaking their edict against walking more than 1000 steps on the day of rest.

This is the problem with the excessive proliferation of laws, rules, and regulations.  Regardless of how well intentioned they may have been when promulgated, people will eventually learn that most laws are petty and inconsequential.  Even a child can see the inconsistency in this, and resent the injustice when reprimanded for what had previously been permitted, even encouraged.  People wink at the most petty of laws, and that opens the door to winking at others, even those far less petty.  And why not?  Everyone else does it.  Flagrant speeding leads to running pink lights and pretty soon you’ve got a culture of noncompliance—not to mention a nasty wreck.

It is no wonder, then, that Jesus would dedicate his life to liberating people from slavish bondage to excessive rules.  “Moses gave you ten commandments,” he said; “I leave you with two.”  What’s more, he made them positive: Thou shalts, rather than Thou shalt nots.  Someday we will learn to govern ourselves with a single I will.

Anyway, that’s what I was thinking when I recently returned to Asilomar.

Now I’m thinking I will start a Urantia study group when I get settled in Xi’an.