Editorial February 25, 1911 Issue

TRANSPARENCY AND GROWTH

John B. Willis

It was a clear, cool day without, so that an overcoat and a brisk gait were called for, and yet the atmosphere of the conservatory we had entered was summerlike and we found ourselves in the midst of a revelry of bloom. Flowers of every name and hue were voicing as best they could their fragrant welcome, while the place was simply overrunning with a tangle of luxuriant growth. In talking with the keeper we incidentally inquired as to his coal consumption, and to our surprise he said, "It is much lighter than you would suppose, in view of the fact that on sunshiny days like this we need no artificial heat at all."

We had come upon a new realization of the practical value of a glass roof—and, as well, of a spiritually transparent thought. Both freely admit that which means life and growth, and both exclude that which means decay and death. Though the phenomenon is commonplace, it is far more difficult to understand how glass should be an open door to light waves, and quite impenetrable to air waves, than to explain how an alert and rightly educated thought may be hospitable to everything that ministers to a true and beautiful life, while interdicting even the near approach of the things that blight one's spiritual growth.

The above phrase, "alert and rightly educated thought," is used advisedly, and every mature Christian Scientist knows full well that its terms cannot be overemphasized. An active purpose in the line of spiritual growth is sometimes as unwise and self-defeating in its way of doing things as is the man who puts abundant windows in his conservatory and yet allows them to become and remain so begrimed with coal-dust that most of the sun's rays are excluded. It is a very easy matter for mortals to enthuse over an ideal and yet do very little toward bringing it into practical, healing touch with their personal problems.

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