Alternative Voice

RENDERINGS OF REALIZATIONS

By Niánn Emerson Chase

B.A. & Graduate studies, Arizona State University

It has always impressed me, in my study of the life of Jesus (as found in The URANTIA Book), that he often spent time in nature, away from the energies of busy towns and bustling people. In a family of several children, as the eldest son—who (at the age of 14) took the place of a father figure when their father Joseph died in a work-related accident—Jesus often took his younger siblings out on walks in the surrounding hills, pointing out various things they came across, teaching the children not only about the scientific facts of the natural world but also bringing in practical, moral, and spiritual lessons that related to what they observed in nature.

Throughout his adulthood Jesus continued taking respite from the pressing things of life by spending large amounts of time in the natural world. He spent many hours in the hills and mountains praying, reflecting, meditating, and communing with the Universal Father, with even two separate periods of being completely alone in the wilderness—one for six weeks and another encompassing forty days.

When Jesus became more active in his public career as a spiritual teacher, he and his close associates spent more time outdoors than inside—for relaxation and recreation, for work and meetings, for speaking before large groups of people, and even living outdoors for weeks at a time. He knew that by spending quality time in nature, we humans could better learn the value of meditation and the power of intelligent reflection. 

In her book The Sun Is A Compass, wildlife biologist Caroline Van Hemert describes a 4,000-mile “human-powered” journey that she and her husband took in 2012 into the Pacific Northwest wild lands—starting from Bellingham in northern Washington and ending in Kotzebue, Alaska, far above the Arctic Circle. In those months of being constantly in the natural world, away from human-created societies and environments, Dr. Van Hemert gained a broader and more attuned perspective of life, experiencing a gamut of emotions and situations as she and her husband blissed out in the majestic wonder of rose-tinted dawns, gold-laced dusks, and other peace-bringing incidences, and, paradoxically, at other times struggling in their fear and desperation to simply stay alive in a harsh and unforgiving environment.

In a recent article about one episode on this trip,¹ Dr. Van Hemert describes how closely observing a herd of hundreds of migrating caribou for a couple of days taught her some very important life lessons, which we need in these times of the Coronapocalypse.² We humans are very much like our animal counterparts in our needs and tendencies. Like the caribou, we are individuals by ourselves or with small nuclear-family units for whom we try to provide and protect, and we also have an innate need to belong with a herd in order to survive all of life’s challenges.

In a recent article about one episode on this trip,¹ Dr. Van Hemert describes how closely observing a herd of hundreds of migrating caribou for a couple of days taught her some very important life lessons, which we need in these times of the Coronapocalypse.² We humans are very much like our animal counterparts in our needs and tendencies. Like the caribou, we are individuals by ourselves or with small nuclear-family units for whom we try to provide and protect, and we also have an innate need to belong with a herd in order to survive all of life’s challenges...