sorrow

149:5.3“Much of man’s sor­row is born of the dis­ap­point­ment of his am­bi­tions and the wound­ing of his pride. Al­though men owe a duty to them­selves to make the best of their lives on earth, hav­ing thus sin­cerely ex­erted them­selves, they should cheer­fully ac­cept their lot and ex­er­cise in­ge­nu­ity in mak­ing the most of that which has fallen to their hands. All too many of man’s trou­bles take ori­gin in the fear soil of his own nat­u­ral heart. ‘The wicked flee when no man pur­sues.’ ‘The wicked are like the trou­bled sea, for it can­not rest, but its wa­ters cast up mire and dirt; there is no peace, says God, for the wicked.’

25:1.6The Ha­vona Servi­tals and the Grad­u­ate Guides man­i­fest a tran­scen­dent de­vo­tion to their work and a touch­ing af­fec­tion for one an­other, an af­fec­tion which, while spir­i­tual, you could only un­der­stand by com­par­i­son with the phe­nom­e­non of hu­man love. There is di­vine pathos in the sep­a­ra­tion of the servi­tals from the guides, as so of­ten oc­curs when the servi­tals are dis­patched on mis­sions be­yond the lim­its of the cen­tral uni­verse; but they go with joy and not with sor­row. The sat­is­fy­ing joy of high duty is the eclips­ing emo­tion of spir­i­tual be­ings. Sor­row can­not ex­ist in the face of the con­scious­ness of di­vine duty faith­fully per­formed. And when man’s as­cend­ing soul stands be­fore the Su­preme Judge, the de­ci­sion of eter­nal im­port will not be de­ter­mined by ma­te­rial suc­cesses or quan­ti­ta­tive achieve­ments; the ver­dict re­ver­ber­at­ing through the high courts de­clares: “Well done, good and faith­ful ser­vant; you have been faith­ful over a few es­sen­tials; you shall be made ruler over uni­verse re­al­i­ties.”

140:4.8An ef­fec­tive phi­los­o­phy of liv­ing is formed by a com­bi­na­tion of cos­mic in­sight and the to­tal of one’s emo­tional re­ac­tions to the so­cial and eco­nomic en­vi­ron­ment. Re­mem­ber: While in­her­ited urges can­not be fun­da­men­tally mod­i­fied, emo­tional re­sponses to such urges can be changed; there­fore the moral na­ture can be mod­i­fied, char­ac­ter can be im­proved. In the strong char­ac­ter emo­tional re­sponses are in­te­grated and co-or­di­nated, and thus is pro­duced a uni­fied per­son­al­ity. De­fi­cient uni­fi­ca­tion weak­ens the moral na­ture and en­gen­ders un­hap­pi­ness.

140:4.9With­out a wor­thy goal, life be­comes aim­less and un­prof­itable, and much un­hap­pi­ness re­sults. Je­sus’ dis­course at the or­di­na­tion of the twelve con­sti­tutes a mas­ter phi­los­o­phy of life. Je­sus ex­horted his fol­low­ers to ex­er­cise ex­pe­ri­en­tial faith. He ad­mon­ished them not to de­pend on mere in­tel­lec­tual as­sent, credulity, and es­tab­lished au­thor­ity.

181:1.6“Doubt not any of these truths even af­ter you are scat­tered abroad by per­se­cu­tion and are down­cast by many sor­rows. When you feel that you are alone in the world, I will know of your iso­la­tion even as, when you are scat­tered ev­ery man to his own place, leav­ing the Son of Man in the hands of his en­e­mies, you will know of mine. But I am never alone; al­ways is the Fa­ther with me. Even at such a time I will pray for you. And all of these things have I told you that you might have peace and have it more abun­dantly. In this world you will have tribu­la­tion, but be of good cheer; I have tri­umphed in the world and shown you the way to eter­nal joy and ev­er­last­ing ser­vice.”

131:3.2“Out of a pure heart shall glad­ness spring forth to the In­fi­nite; all my be­ing shall be at peace with this super­mor­tal re­joic­ing. My soul is filled with con­tent, and my heart over­flows with the bliss of peace­ful trust. I have no fear; I am free from anx­i­ety. I dwell in se­cu­rity, and my en­e­mies can­not alarm me. I am sat­is­fied with the fruits of my con­fi­dence. I have found the ap­proach to the Im­mor­tal easy of ac­cess. I pray for faith to sus­tain me on the long jour­ney; I know that faith from be­yond will not fail me. I know my breth­ren will pros­per if they be­come im­bued with the faith of the Im­mor­tal, even the faith that cre­ates mod­esty, up­right­ness, wis­dom, cour­age, knowl­edge, and per­se­ver­ance. Let us for­sake sor­row and dis­own fear. By faith let us lay hold upon true righ­teous­ness and gen­uine man­li­ness. Let us learn to med­i­tate on jus­tice and mercy. Faith is man’s true wealth; it is the en­dow­ment of virtue and glory.

160:2.94. The en­hanced de­fense against all evil. Per­son­al­ity as­so­ci­a­tion and mu­tual af­fec­tion is an ef­fi­cient in­sur­ance against evil. Dif­fi­cul­ties, sor­row, dis­ap­point­ment, and de­feat are more painful and dis­heart­en­ing when borne alone. As­so­ci­a­tion does not trans­mute evil into righ­teous­ness, but it does aid in greatly less­en­ing the sting. Said your Mas­ter, “Happy are they who mourn”—if a friend is at hand to com­fort. There is pos­i­tive strength in the knowl­edge that you live for the wel­fare of oth­ers, and that these oth­ers like­wise live for your wel­fare and ad­vance­ment. Man lan­guishes in iso­la­tion. Hu­man be­ings un­fail­ingly be­come dis­cour­aged when they view only the tran­si­tory trans­ac­tions of time. The pres­ent, when di­vorced from the past and the fu­ture, be­comes ex­as­per­at­ingly triv­ial. Only a glimpse of the cir­cle of eter­nity can in­spire man to do his best and can chal­lenge the best in him to do its ut­most. And when man is thus at his best, he lives most un­selfishly for the good of oth­ers, his fel­low so­journ­ers in time and eter­nity.

131:2.4“The mercy of the Lord is from ev­er­last­ing to ev­er­last­ing upon those who fear him and his righ­teous­ness even to our chil­dren’s chil­dren. The Lord is gra­cious and full of com­pas­sion. The Lord is good to all, and his ten­der mer­cies are over all his cre­ation; he heals the bro­ken­hearted and binds up their wounds. Whither shall I go from God’s spirit? whither shall I flee from the di­vine pres­ence? Thus says the High and Lofty One who in­hab­its eter­nity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place; also with him who is of a con­trite heart and a hum­ble spirit!’ None can hide him­self from our God, for he fills heaven and earth. Let the heav­ens be glad and let the earth re­joice. Let all na­tions say: The Lord reigns! Give thanks to God, for his mercy en­dures for­ever.

193:4.12As a re­sult of his per­sis­tent iso­la­tion of per­son­al­ity, his griefs mul­ti­plied, his sor­rows in­creased, his anx­i­eties aug­mented, and his de­spair deep­ened al­most be­yond en­durance.

182:3.1Af­ter all was still and quiet about the camp, Je­sus, tak­ing Pe­ter, James, and John, went a short way up a near-by ravine where he had of­ten be­fore gone to pray and com­mune. The three apos­tles could not help rec­og­niz­ing that he was griev­ously op­pressed; never be­fore had they ob­served their Mas­ter to be so heavy-laden and sor­row­ful. When they ar­rived at the place of his de­vo­tions, he bade the three sit down and watch with him while he went off about a stone’s throw to pray. And when he had fallen down on his face, he prayed: “My Fa­ther, I came into this world to do your will, and so have I. I know that the hour has come to lay down this life in the flesh, and I do not shrink there­from, but I would know that it is your will that I drink this cup. Send me the as­sur­ance that I will please you in my death even as I have in my life.”

182:3.7Ear­lier in the evening it had not seemed so dif­fi­cult to drink the cup, but as the hu­man Je­sus bade farewell to his apos­tles and sent them to their rest, the trial grew more ap­palling. Je­sus ex­pe­ri­enced that nat­u­ral ebb and flow of feel­ing which is com­mon to all hu­man ex­pe­ri­ence, and just now he was weary from work, ex­hausted from the long hours of stren­u­ous la­bor and painful anx­i­ety con­cern­ing the safety of his apos­tles. While no mor­tal can pre­sume to un­der­stand the thoughts and feel­ings of the in­car­nate Son of God at such a time as this, we know that he en­dured great an­guish and suf­fered un­told sor­row, for the per­spi­ra­tion rolled off his face in great drops. He was at last con­vinced that the Fa­ther in­tended to al­low nat­u­ral events to take their course; he was fully de­ter­mined to em­ploy none of his sov­er­eign power as the su­preme head of a uni­verse to save him­self.

159:3.10You shall not por­tray your teacher as a man of sor­rows. Fu­ture gen­er­a­tions shall know also the ra­di­ance of our joy, the buoy­ance of our good will, and the in­spi­ra­tion of our good hu­mor. We pro­claim a mes­sage of good news which is in­fec­tious in its trans­form­ing power. Our re­li­gion is throb­bing with new life and new mean­ings. Those who ac­cept this teach­ing are filled with joy and in their hearts are con­strained to re­joice ev­er­more. In­creas­ing hap­pi­ness is al­ways the ex­pe­ri­ence of all who are cer­tain about God.

181:1.8A cer­tain amount of both sto­icism and op­ti­mism are ser­vice­able in liv­ing a life on earth, but nei­ther has aught to do with that su­perb peace which the Son of God be­stows upon his breth­ren in the flesh. The peace which Mi­chael gives his chil­dren on earth is that very peace which filled his own soul when he him­self lived the mor­tal life in the flesh and on this very world. The peace of Je­sus is the joy and sat­is­fac­tion of a God-know­ing in­di­vid­ual who has achieved the tri­umph of learn­ing fully how to do the will of God while liv­ing the mor­tal life in the flesh. The peace of Je­sus’ mind was founded on an ab­so­lute hu­man faith in the ac­tu­al­ity of the di­vine Fa­ther’s wise and sym­pa­thetic over­care. Je­sus had trou­ble on earth, he has even been falsely called the “man of sor­rows,” but in and through all of these ex­pe­ri­ences he en­joyed the com­fort of that con­fi­dence which ever em­pow­ered him to pro­ceed with his life pur­pose in the full as­sur­ance that he was achiev­ing the Fa­ther’s will.

108:5.6Your tran­sient and ever-chang­ing emo­tions of joy and sor­row are in the main purely hu­man and ma­te­rial re­ac­tions to your in­ter­nal psy­chic cli­mate and to your ex­ter­nal ma­te­rial en­vi­ron­ment. Do not, there­fore, look to the Ad­juster for self­ish con­so­la­tion and mor­tal com­fort. It is the busi­ness of the Ad­juster to pre­pare you for the eter­nal ad­ven­ture, to as­sure your sur­vival. It is not the mis­sion of the Mys­tery Mon­i­tor to smooth your ruf­fled feel­ings or to min­is­ter to your in­jured pride; it is the prepa­ra­tion of your soul for the long as­cend­ing ca­reer that en­gages the at­ten­tion and oc­cu­pies the time of the Ad­juster.

27:1.5The last rest of time has been en­joyed; the last tran­si­tion sleep has been ex­pe­ri­enced; now you awake to life ev­er­last­ing on the shores of the eter­nal abode. “And there shall be no more sleep. The pres­ence of God and his Son are be­fore you, and you are eter­nally his ser­vants; you have seen his face, and his name is your spirit. There shall be no night there; and they need no light of the sun, for the Great Source and Cen­ter gives them light; they shall live for­ever and ever. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nei­ther sor­row nor cry­ing, nei­ther shall there be any more pain, for the for­mer things have passed away.”

149:6.12“Well did the Prophet Jeremiah de­scribe many mor­tals when he said: ‘You are near God in the mouth but far from him in the heart.’ And have you not also read that dire­ful warn­ing of the prophet who said: ‘The priests thereof teach for hire, and the proph­ets thereof di­vine for money. At the same time they pro­fess piety and pro­claim that the Lord is with them.’ Have you not been well warned against those who ‘speak peace to their neigh­bors when mis­chief is in their hearts,’ those who ‘flat­ter with the lips while the heart is given to dou­ble-deal­ing’? Of all the sor­rows of a trust­ing man, none are so ter­ri­ble as to be ‘wounded in the house of a trusted friend.’”

8:6.4“The love of the Spirit” is real, as also are his sor­rows; there­fore “Grieve not the Spirit of God.” Whether we ob­serve the In­fi­nite Spirit as Par­a­dise De­ity or as a lo­cal uni­verse Cre­ative Spirit, we find that the Con­joint Cre­ator is not only the Third Source and Cen­ter but also a di­vine per­son. This di­vine per­son­al­ity also re­acts to the uni­verse as a per­son. The Spirit speaks to you, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says.” “The Spirit him­self makes in­ter­ces­sion for you.” The Spirit ex­erts a di­rect and per­sonal in­flu­ence upon cre­ated be­ings, “For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.”

23:2.12The con­fu­sion and tur­moil of Uran­tia do not sig­nify that the Par­a­dise Rulers lack ei­ther in­ter­est or abil­ity to man­age af­fairs dif­fer­ently. The Cre­ators are pos­sessed of full power to make Uran­tia a ver­i­ta­ble par­a­dise, but such an Eden would not con­tribute to the de­vel­op­ment of those strong, no­ble, and ex­pe­ri­enced char­ac­ters which the Gods are so surely forg­ing out on your world be­tween the anvils of ne­ces­sity and the ham­mers of an­guish. Your anx­i­eties and sor­rows, your tri­als and dis­ap­point­ments, are just as much a part of the di­vine plan on your sphere as are the ex­qui­site per­fec­tion and in­fi­nite adap­ta­tion of all things to their su­preme pur­pose on the worlds of the cen­tral and per­fect uni­verse.

181:2.29As Pe­ter stood there be­fore his Mas­ter, all atrem­ble with in­tense emo­tion and over­flow­ing with gen­uine love for him, Je­sus looked straight into his moist­ened eyes as he said: “Pe­ter, ver­ily, ver­ily, I say to you, this night the cock will not crow un­til you have de­nied me three or four times. And thus what you have failed to learn from peace­ful as­so­ci­a­tion with me, you will learn through much trou­ble and many sor­rows. And af­ter you have re­ally learned this need­ful les­son, you should strengthen your breth­ren and go on liv­ing a life ded­i­cated to preach­ing this gospel, though you may fall into prison and, per­haps, fol­low me in pay­ing the su­preme price of lov­ing ser­vice in the build­ing of the Fa­ther’s king­dom.

130:6.1While they were up in the moun­tains, Je­sus had a long talk with a young man who was fear­ful and down­cast. Fail­ing to de­rive com­fort and cour­age from as­so­ci­a­tion with his fel­lows, this youth had sought the soli­tude of the hills; he had grown up with a feel­ing of help­less­ness and in­fe­ri­or­ity. These nat­u­ral ten­den­cies had been aug­mented by nu­mer­ous dif­fi­cult cir­cum­stances which the lad had en­coun­tered as he grew up, no­tably, the loss of his fa­ther when he was twelve years of age. As they met, Je­sus said: “Greet­ings, my friend! why so down­cast on such a beau­ti­ful day? If some­thing has hap­pened to dis­tress you, per­haps I can in some man­ner as­sist you. At any rate it af­fords me real plea­sure to prof­fer my ser­vices.”

130:6.2The young man was dis­in­clined to talk, and so Je­sus made a sec­ond ap­proach to his soul, say­ing: “I un­der­stand you come up in these hills to get away from folks; so, of course, you do not want to talk with me, but I would like to know whether you are fa­mil­iar with these hills; do you know the di­rec­tion of the trails? and, per­chance, could you in­form me as to the best route to Phenix?” Now this youth was very fa­mil­iar with these moun­tains, and he re­ally be­came much in­ter­ested in telling Je­sus the way to Phenix, so much so that he marked out all the trails on the ground and fully ex­plained ev­ery de­tail. But he was star­tled and made cu­ri­ous when Je­sus, af­ter say­ing good-bye and mak­ing as if he were tak­ing leave, sud­denly turned to him, say­ing: “I well know you wish to be left alone with your dis­con­so­la­tion; but it would be nei­ther kind nor fair for me to re­ceive such gen­er­ous help from you as to how best to find my way to Phenix and then un­think­ingly to go away from you with­out mak­ing the least ef­fort to an­swer your ap­peal­ing re­quest for help and guid­ance re­gard­ing the best route to the goal of des­tiny which you seek in your heart while you tarry here on the moun­tain­side. As you so well know the trails to Phenix, hav­ing tra­versed them many times, so do I well know the way to the city of your dis­ap­pointed hopes and thwarted am­bi­tions. And since you have asked me for help, I will not dis­ap­point you.” The youth was al­most over­come, but he man­aged to stam­mer out, “But—I did not ask you for any­thing—” And Je­sus, lay­ing a gen­tle hand on his shoul­der, said: “No, son, not with words but with long­ing looks did you ap­peal to my heart. My boy, to one who loves his fel­lows there is an elo­quent ap­peal for help in your coun­te­nance of dis­cour­age­ment and de­spair. Sit down with me while I tell you of the ser­vice trails and hap­pi­ness high­ways which lead from the sor­rows of self to the joys of lov­ing ac­tiv­i­ties in the broth­er­hood of men and in the ser­vice of the God of heaven.”

130:6.3By this time the young man very much de­sired to talk with Je­sus, and he knelt at his feet im­plor­ing Je­sus to help him, to show him the way of es­cape from his world of per­sonal sor­row and de­feat. Said Je­sus: “My friend, arise! Stand up like a man! You may be sur­rounded with small en­e­mies and be re­tarded by many ob­sta­cles, but the big things and the real things of this world and the uni­verse are on your side. The sun rises ev­ery morn­ing to salute you just as it does the most pow­er­ful and pros­per­ous man on earth. Look—you have a strong body and pow­er­ful mus­cles—your phys­i­cal equip­ment is bet­ter than the av­er­age. Of course, it is just about use­less while you sit out here on the moun­tain­side and grieve over your mis­for­tunes, real and fan­cied. But you could do great things with your body if you would has­ten off to where great things are wait­ing to be done. You are try­ing to run away from your un­happy self, but it can­not be done. You and your prob­lems of liv­ing are real; you can­not es­cape them as long as you live. But look again, your mind is clear and ca­pa­ble. Your strong body has an in­tel­li­gent mind to di­rect it. Set your mind at work to solve its prob­lems; teach your in­tel­lect to work for you; refuse longer to be dom­i­nated by fear like an un­think­ing an­i­mal. Your mind should be your coura­geous ally in the so­lu­tion of your life prob­lems rather than your be­ing, as you have been, its ab­ject fear-slave and the bond ser­vant of de­pres­sion and de­feat. But most valu­able of all, your po­ten­tial of real achieve­ment is the spirit which lives within you, and which will stim­u­late and in­spire your mind to con­trol it­self and ac­ti­vate the body if you will re­lease it from the fet­ters of fear and thus en­able your spir­i­tual na­ture to be­gin your de­liv­er­ance from the evils of in­ac­tion by the power-pres­ence of liv­ing faith. And then, forth­with, will this faith van­quish fear of men by the com­pelling pres­ence of that new and all-dom­i­nat­ing love of your fel­lows which will so soon fill your soul to over­flow­ing be­cause of the con­scious­ness which has been born in your heart that you are a child of God.

130:6.4“This day, my son, you are to be re­born, re-es­tab­lished as a man of faith, cour­age, and de­voted ser­vice to man, for God’s sake. And when you be­come so read­justed to life within your­self, you be­come like­wise read­justed to the uni­verse; you have been born again—born of the spirit—and hence­forth will your whole life be­come one of vic­to­ri­ous ac­com­plish­ment. Trou­ble will in­vig­o­rate you; dis­ap­point­ment will spur you on; dif­fi­cul­ties will chal­lenge you; and ob­sta­cles will stim­u­late you. Arise, young man! Say farewell to the life of cring­ing fear and flee­ing cow­ardice. Has­ten back to duty and live your life in the flesh as a son of God, a mor­tal ded­i­cated to the en­nobling ser­vice of man on earth and des­tined to the su­perb and eter­nal ser­vice of God in eter­nity.”

130:6.5And this youth, For­tune, sub­se­quently be­came the leader of the Chris­tians in Crete and the close as­so­ciate of Ti­tus in his labors for the up­lift of the Cre­tan be­liev­ers.

130:6.6The trav­el­ers were truly rested and re­freshed when they made ready about noon one day to sail for Carthage in north­ern Africa, stop­ping for two days at Cyrene. It was here that Je­sus and Ga­nid gave first aid to a lad named Ru­fus, who had been in­jured by the break­down of a loaded ox­cart. They car­ried him home to his mother, and his fa­ther, Si­mon, lit­tle dreamed that the man whose cross he sub­se­quently bore by or­ders of a Ro­man sol­dier was the stranger who once be­friended his son.

48:6.36Even as mor­tals, so have these an­gels been fa­ther to many dis­ap­point­ments, and they will point out that some­times your most dis­ap­point­ing dis­ap­point­ments have be­come your great­est bless­ings. Some­times the plant­ing of a seed ne­ces­si­tates its death, the death of your fond­est hopes, be­fore it can be re­born to bear the fruits of new life and new op­por­tu­nity. And from them you will learn to suf­fer less through sor­row and dis­ap­point­ment, first, by mak­ing fewer per­sonal plans con­cern­ing other per­son­al­i­ties, and then, by ac­cept­ing your lot when you have faith­fully per­formed your duty.

156:5.17The mea­sure of the spir­i­tual ca­pac­ity of the evolv­ing soul is your faith in truth and your love for man, but the mea­sure of your hu­man strength of char­ac­ter is your abil­ity to re­sist the hold­ing of grudges and your ca­pac­ity to with­stand brood­ing in the face of deep sor­row. De­feat is the true mir­ror in which you may hon­estly view your real self.