“Suzannah Mullikin was one of many young adult Urantia Book readers who attended the Parliament of the Worlds Religions with scholarship support. We on the editorial board of UrantiaNow are grateful to the Urantia Book Fellowship, the Urmia Project, and the Victoria Clark Fund for helping these truth seekers to be part of one of the world’s great religious events.”
A Reflection on the Parliament of the World’s Religions
In late August, I packed a red backpack with a handful of clothes, a piece of technology, $40 and my dog and caught a ride away from the fading and familiar Vermont summer to an idyllic suburb of Philadelphia to meet a best friend and begin a journey on foot across America. To Utah; to worship with Christians, and to attend the much anticipated Parliament of the World’s Religions. I knew that I would find God in His many forms, and I did. I was to see Christ every day in the safe passage my partner and I cultivated with the assistance of countless unseen helpers. I was to find abundant secrets of the Mother Spirit in the animals on the farm we were bound for to work along the way; in the ways my companion beautified trees, and in the mysticism of the horses we were to ride. I found her in the wise teachings of the Christian and Urantian elders, brothers and sisters along the way, who all took the well-being of the divine feminine lovingly, seriously. I was to find my Father in heaven in the virtues and faces of my spiritual siblings at the Parliament. Each day, after having my belly filled by Godly Sikihs, I took down my hair, took off my shoes, and moved with my interfaith friends, sang and spoke with them, and simply looked at the them for hours. I probed their hearts with my spiritual fingers, and like a blind child I felt for my Father in Heaven’s eyes, lips, his whole face, within such holy and humble human energy points. I found his finest virtues melted into human expressions, like the sweetest chocolate melting into the ripest summer berries. I was greeted by messages from his Sons everywhere I turned, and learned from his Daughters – crones, mothers, maidens of the Kingdom of Heaven – about the coming of the age of the Mother Spirit. My eyes weren’t annointed to see angels, but they were annointed to feel with my bare hands the various circuits that are the Mother herself. And they protected me and the ones dear to me. I saw darkness, and I saw light at this gathering of striving, ascending souls.
I never finished the Jesus papers before I got to Utah, like I wanted to. And I haven’t finished them yet. Moment by moment, I hover above these pages, I walk the path of the tortoise towards the end. I savor descriptions of this Great Love of my life, I savor his stories and adventures, work ethics and interpersonal skills, like I savor all of yours. I never finished them on the road, but we spent every day in deep gratitude of our precious revelation. Late into the night, fresh in the morning, we swallowed these living waters, alongside the shadowy and unseen highways of America. My heart seizes as it longs for the perspective that leads to the Creator that is found on the open road. When I put myself in the hands of strangers, when I move far from home, when I walk away from that familiar and into the other with nothing in my hands, the angels come close. They comingle with the angels of everyone who you cross moments in places with. They fall into deep love with your companion’s angels. There are seraphim on the roads, abundantly, like no other place on our world, because there are seraphim abundantly around humans. We can have our eyes annointed and sink deep into the wild circuits of the Mother Spirit, and there are many benevelont guides who are waiting.