The Urantia Book

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18 paragraphs · about 9 minutes

Every paragraph the index cites under memory, once, in the order of the book. Beside each stand the entries that cite it.

26:3.85. The In­tel­li­gence Co-or­di­na­tors. These ter­tiary super­na­phim, the chil­dren of the fifth Cir­cuit Spirit, are al­ways the wise and sym­pa­thetic pro­mot­ers of fra­ter­nal as­so­ci­a­tion be­tween the as­cend­ing and the de­scend­ing pil­grims. They min­is­ter to all the in­hab­i­tants of Ha­vona, and es­pe­cially to the as­cend­ers, by keep­ing them cur­rently in­formed re­gard­ing the af­fairs of the uni­verse of uni­verses. By virtue of per­sonal con­tacts with the broad­cast­ers and the re­flec­tors, these “liv­ing news­pa­pers” of Ha­vona are in­stantly con­ver­sant with all in­for­ma­tion pass­ing over the vast news cir­cuits of the cen­tral uni­verse. They se­cure in­tel­li­gence by the Ha­vona graph method, which en­ables them au­to­mat­i­cally to as­sim­i­late as much in­for­ma­tion in one hour of Uran­tia time as would re­quire a thou­sand years for your most rapid tele­graphic tech­nique to re­cord.

27:6.4These Par­a­dise philoso­phers teach by ev­ery pos­si­ble method of in­struc­tion, in­clud­ing the higher graph tech­nique of Ha­vona and cer­tain Par­a­dise meth­ods of com­mu­ni­cat­ing in­for­ma­tion. All of these higher tech­niques of im­part­ing knowl­edge and con­vey­ing ideas are ut­terly be­yond the com­pre­hen­sion ca­pac­ity of even the most highly de­vel­oped hu­man mind. One hour’s in­struc­tion on Par­a­dise would be the equiv­a­lent of ten thou­sand years of the word-mem­ory meth­ods of Uran­tia. You can­not grasp such com­mu­ni­ca­tion tech­niques, and there is sim­ply noth­ing in mor­tal ex­pe­ri­ence with which they may be com­pared, noth­ing to which they can be likened.

40:9.4There is, how­ever, one par­tic­u­lar in which Spirit-fused mor­tals dif­fer from their as­cen­dant breth­ren: Mor­tal mem­ory of hu­man ex­pe­ri­ence on the ma­te­rial worlds of ori­gin sur­vives death in the flesh be­cause the in­dwelling Ad­juster has ac­quired a spirit coun­ter­part, or tran­script, of those events of hu­man life which were of spir­i­tual sig­nif­i­cance. But with Spirit-fused mor­tals there ex­ists no such mech­a­nism whereby hu­man mem­ory may per­sist. The Ad­juster tran­scripts of mem­ory are full and in­tact, but these ac­qui­si­tions are ex­pe­ri­en­tial pos­ses­sions of the de­parted Ad­justers and are not avail­able to the crea­tures of their for­mer in­dwelling, who there­fore awaken in the res­ur­rec­tion halls of the mor­ontia spheres of Neb­a­don as if they were newly cre­ated be­ings, crea­tures with­out con­scious­ness of for­mer ex­is­tence.

40:9.5Such chil­dren of the lo­cal uni­verse are en­abled to re­pos­sess them­selves of much of their for­mer hu­man mem­ory ex­pe­ri­ence through hav­ing it re­told by the as­so­ci­ated ser­a­phim and cheru­bim and by con­sult­ing the rec­ords of the mor­tal ca­reer filed by the record­ing an­gels. This they can do with un­doubted as­sur­ance be­cause the sur­viv­ing soul, of ex­pe­ri­en­tial ori­gin in the ma­te­rial and mor­tal life, while hav­ing no mem­ory of mor­tal events, does have a resid­ual ex­pe­ri­en­tial-rec­og­ni­tion-re­sponse to these un­re­mem­bered events of past ex­pe­ri­ence.

40:9.6When a Spirit-fused mor­tal is told about the events of the un­re­mem­bered past ex­pe­ri­ence, there is an im­me­di­ate re­sponse of ex­pe­ri­en­tial rec­og­ni­tion within the soul (iden­tity) of such a sur­vivor which in­stantly in­vests the nar­rated event with the emo­tional tinge of re­al­ity and with the in­tel­lec­tual qual­ity of fact; and this dual re­sponse con­sti­tutes the re­con­struc­tion, rec­og­ni­tion, and val­i­da­tion of an un­re­mem­bered facet of mor­tal ex­pe­ri­ence.

40:9.7Even with Ad­juster-fu­sion can­di­dates, only those hu­man ex­pe­ri­ences which were of spir­i­tual value are com­mon pos­ses­sions of the sur­viv­ing mor­tal and the re­turn­ing Ad­juster and hence are im­me­di­ately re­mem­bered sub­se­quent to mor­tal sur­vival. Con­cern­ing those hap­pen­ings which were not of spir­i­tual sig­nif­i­cance, even these Ad­juster-fusers must de­pend upon the at­tri­bute of rec­og­ni­tion-re­sponse in the sur­viv­ing soul. And since any one event may have a spir­i­tual con­no­ta­tion to one mor­tal but not to an­other, it be­comes pos­si­ble for a group of con­tem­po­rary as­cend­ers from the same planet to pool their store of Ad­juster-re­mem­bered events and thus to re­con­struct any ex­pe­ri­ence which they had in com­mon, and which was of spir­i­tual value in the life of any one of them.

40:9.8While we un­der­stand such tech­niques of mem­ory re­con­struc­tion fairly well, we do not grasp the tech­nique of per­son­al­ity rec­og­ni­tion. Per­son­al­i­ties of one­time as­so­ci­a­tion mu­tu­ally re­spond quite in­de­pen­dently of the op­er­a­tion of mem­ory, al­beit, mem­ory it­self and the tech­niques of its re­con­struc­tion are nec­es­sary to in­vest such mu­tual per­son­al­ity re­sponse with the full­ness of rec­og­ni­tion.

40:9.9A Spirit-fused sur­vivor is also able to learn much about the life he lived in the flesh by re­vis­it­ing his na­tiv­ity world sub­se­quent to the plan­e­tary dis­pen­sa­tion in which he lived. Such chil­dren of Spirit fu­sion are en­abled to en­joy these op­por­tu­ni­ties for in­ves­ti­gat­ing their hu­man ca­reers since they are in gen­eral con­fined to the ser­vice of the lo­cal uni­verse. They do not share your high and ex­alted des­tiny in the Par­a­dise Corps of the Fi­nal­ity; only Ad­juster-fused mor­tals or other es­pe­cially em­braced as­cen­dant be­ings are mus­tered into the ranks of those who await the eter­nal De­ity ad­ven­ture. Spirit-fused mor­tals are the per­ma­nent cit­i­zens of the lo­cal uni­verses; they may as­pire to Par­a­dise des­tiny, but they can­not be sure of it. In Neb­a­don their uni­verse home is the eighth group of worlds en­cir­cling Sal­ving­ton, a des­tiny-heaven of na­ture and lo­ca­tion much like the one en­vi­sioned by the plan­e­tary tra­di­tions of Uran­tia.

47:4.5Your Ad­juster mem­ory re­mains fully in­tact as you as­cend the mor­ontia life. Those men­tal as­so­ci­a­tions that were purely an­i­mal­is­tic and wholly ma­te­rial nat­u­rally per­ished with the phys­i­cal brain, but ev­ery­thing in your men­tal life which was worth while, and which had sur­vival value, was coun­ter­parted by the Ad­juster and is re­tained as a part of per­sonal mem­ory all the way through the as­cen­dant ca­reer. You will be con­scious of all your worth-while ex­pe­ri­ences as you ad­vance from one man­sion world to an­other and from one sec­tion of the uni­verse to an­other—even to Par­a­dise.

48:4.20The prin­ci­ples of Uran­tian play life are phil­o­soph­i­cally sound and con­tinue to ap­ply on up through your as­cend­ing life, through the cir­cuits of Ha­vona to the eter­nal shores of Par­a­dise. As as­cen­dant be­ings you are in pos­ses­sion of per­sonal mem­o­ries of all for­mer and lower ex­is­tences, and with­out such iden­tity mem­o­ries of the past there would be no ba­sis for the hu­mor of the pres­ent, ei­ther mor­tal laugh­ter or mor­ontia mirth. It is this re­call­ing of past ex­pe­ri­ences that pro­vides the ba­sis for pres­ent di­ver­sion and amuse­ment. And so you will en­joy the ce­les­tial equiv­a­lents of your earthly hu­mor all the way up through your long mor­ontia, and then in­creas­ingly spir­i­tual, ca­reers. And that part of God (the Ad­juster) which be­comes an eter­nal part of the per­son­al­ity of an as­cen­dant mor­tal con­tributes the over­tones of di­vin­ity to the joy­ous ex­pres­sions, even spir­i­tual laugh­ter, of the as­cend­ing crea­tures of time and space.

76:3.2Adam wisely spent most of the time train­ing his chil­dren and their as­so­ciates in civil ad­min­is­tra­tion, ed­u­ca­tional meth­ods, and re­li­gious de­vo­tions. Had it not been for this fore­sight, pan­de­mo­nium would have bro­ken loose upon his death. As it was, the death of Adam made lit­tle dif­fer­ence in the con­duct of the af­fairs of his peo­ple. But long be­fore Adam and Eve passed away, they rec­og­nized that their chil­dren and fol­low­ers had grad­u­ally learned to for­get the days of their glory in Eden. And it was bet­ter for the ma­jor­ity of their fol­low­ers that they did for­get the grandeur of Eden; they were not so likely to ex­pe­ri­ence un­due dis­sat­is­fac­tion with their less for­tu­nate en­vi­ron­ment.

112:5.22The Thought Ad­juster will re­call and re­hearse for you only those mem­o­ries and ex­pe­ri­ences which are a part of, and es­sen­tial to, your uni­verse ca­reer. If the Ad­juster has been a part­ner in the evo­lu­tion of aught in the hu­man mind, then will these worth-while ex­pe­ri­ences sur­vive in the eter­nal con­scious­ness of the Ad­juster. But much of your past life and its mem­o­ries, hav­ing nei­ther spir­i­tual mean­ing nor mor­ontia value, will per­ish with the ma­te­rial brain; much of ma­te­rial ex­pe­ri­ence will pass away as one­time scaf­fold­ing which, hav­ing bridged you over to the mor­ontia level, no longer serves a pur­pose in the uni­verse. But per­son­al­ity and the re­la­tion­ships be­tween per­son­al­i­ties are never scaf­fold­ing; mor­tal mem­ory of per­son­al­ity re­la­tion­ships has cos­mic value and will per­sist. On the man­sion worlds you will know and be known, and more, you will re­mem­ber, and be re­mem­bered by, your one­time as­so­ciates in the short but in­trigu­ing life on Uran­tia.

112:6.8The per­sis­tence of mem­ory is proof of the re­ten­tion of the iden­tity of orig­i­nal self­hood; it is es­sen­tial to com­plete self-con­scious­ness of per­son­al­ity con­ti­nu­ity and ex­pan­sion. Those mor­tals who as­cend with­out Ad­justers are de­pen­dent on the in­struc­tion of se­raphic as­so­ciates for the re­con­struc­tion of hu­man mem­ory; oth­er­wise the mor­ontia souls of the Spirit-fused mor­tals are not lim­ited. The pat­tern of mem­ory per­sists in the soul, but this pat­tern re­quires the pres­ence of the for­mer Ad­juster to be­come im­me­di­ately self-re­al­iz­able as con­tin­u­ing mem­ory. With­out the Ad­juster, it re­quires con­sid­er­able time for the mor­tal sur­vivor to re-ex­plore and re­learn, to re­cap­ture, the mem­ory con­scious­ness of the mean­ings and val­ues of a for­mer ex­is­tence.

123:5.2For three years—un­til he was ten—he at­tended the el­e­men­tary school of the Naz­a­reth syn­a­gogue. For these three years he stud­ied the rudi­ments of the Book of the Law as it was re­corded in the He­brew tongue. For the fol­low­ing three years he stud­ied in the ad­vanced school and com­mit­ted to mem­ory, by the method of re­peat­ing aloud, the deeper teach­ings of the sa­cred law. He grad­u­ated from this school of the syn­a­gogue dur­ing his thir­teenth year and was turned over to his par­ents by the syn­a­gogue rulers as an ed­u­cated “son of the com­mand­ment”—hence­forth a re­spon­si­ble cit­i­zen of the com­mon­wealth of Is­rael, all of which en­tailed his at­ten­dance at the Passovers in Je­ru­sa­lem; ac­cord­ingly, he at­tended his first Pass­over that year in com­pany with his fa­ther and mother.

123:5.3–4 · two paragraphs not cited here ·

123:5.3At Naz­a­reth the pupils sat on the floor in a semi­cir­cle, while their teacher, the chazan, an of­fi­cer of the syn­a­gogue, sat fac­ing them. Be­gin­ning with the Book of Leviti­cus, they passed on to the study of the other books of the law, fol­lowed by the study of the Proph­ets and the Psalms. The Naz­a­reth syn­a­gogue pos­sessed a com­plete copy of the Scrip­tures in He­brew. Noth­ing but the Scrip­tures was stud­ied prior to the twelfth year. In the sum­mer months the hours for school were greatly short­ened.

123:5.4Je­sus early be­came a mas­ter of He­brew, and as a young man, when no vis­i­tor of promi­nence hap­pened to be so­journ­ing in Naz­a­reth, he would of­ten be asked to read the He­brew scrip­tures to the faith­ful as­sem­bled in the syn­a­gogue at the reg­u­lar Sab­bath ser­vices.

123:5.5These syn­a­gogue schools, of course, had no text­books. In teach­ing, the chazan would ut­ter a state­ment while the pupils would in uni­son re­peat it af­ter him. When hav­ing ac­cess to the writ­ten books of the law, the stu­dent learned his les­son by read­ing aloud and by con­stant rep­e­ti­tion.

160:4.12Train your mem­ory to hold in sa­cred trust the strength-giv­ing and worth-while episodes of life, which you can re­call at will for your plea­sure and ed­i­fi­ca­tion. Thus build up for your­self and in your­self re­serve gal­leries of beauty, good­ness, and artis­tic grandeur. But the no­blest of all mem­o­ries are the trea­sured rec­ol­lec­tions of the great mo­ments of a su­perb friend­ship. And all of these mem­ory trea­sures ra­di­ate their most pre­cious and ex­alt­ing in­flu­ences un­der the re­leas­ing touch of spir­i­tual wor­ship.

182:3.10Je­sus’ hu­man­ity was not in­sen­si­ble to this sit­u­a­tion of pri­vate lone­li­ness, pub­lic shame, and the ap­pear­ance of the fail­ure of his cause. All these sen­ti­ments bore down on him with in­de­scrib­able heav­i­ness. In this great sor­row his mind went back to the days of his child­hood in Naz­a­reth and to his early work in Gal­i­lee. At the time of this great trial there came up in his mind many of those pleas­ant scenes of his earthly min­istry. And it was from these old mem­o­ries of Naz­a­reth, Ca­per­naum, Mount Her­mon, and of the sun­rise and sun­set on the shim­mer­ing Sea of Gal­i­lee, that he soothed him­self as he made his hu­man heart strong and ready to en­counter the traitor who should so soon be­tray him.

187:5.2Shortly af­ter one o’clock, amidst the in­creas­ing dark­ness of the fierce sand­storm, Je­sus be­gan to fail in hu­man con­scious­ness. His last words of mercy, for­give­ness, and ad­mo­ni­tion had been spo­ken. His last wish—con­cern­ing the care of his mother—had been ex­pressed. Dur­ing this hour of ap­proach­ing death the hu­man mind of Je­sus re­sorted to the rep­e­ti­tion of many pas­sages in the He­brew scrip­tures, par­tic­u­larly the Psalms. The last con­scious thought of the hu­man Je­sus was con­cerned with the rep­e­ti­tion in his mind of a por­tion of the Book of Psalms now known as the twen­ti­eth, twenty-first, and twenty-sec­ond Psalms. While his lips would of­ten move, he was too weak to ut­ter the words as these pas­sages, which he so well knew by heart, would pass through his mind. Only a few times did those stand­ing by catch some ut­ter­ance, such as, “I know the Lord will save his anointed,” “Your hand shall find out all my en­e­mies,” and “My God, my God, why have you for­saken me?” Je­sus did not for one mo­ment en­ter­tain the slight­est doubt that he had lived in ac­cor­dance with the Fa­ther’s will; and he never doubted that he was now lay­ing down his life in the flesh in ac­cor­dance with his Fa­ther’s will. He did not feel that the Fa­ther had for­saken him; he was merely recit­ing in his van­ish­ing con­scious­ness many Scrip­tures, among them this twenty-sec­ond Psalm, which be­gins with “My God, my God, why have you for­saken me?” And this hap­pened to be one of the three pas­sages which were spo­ken with suf­fi­cient clear­ness to be heard by those stand­ing by.

Onward

Cited alongside: Spirit-fused mortals, soul, Jesus, personality, Thought Adjusters, ascending mortals, education, friendship