The individual is inclined to regard his surroundings as either an asset or a liability. The Jews, inordinately proud of the strategic position of Jerusalem, built above its precipitous ravines, regarded it as well-nigh impregnable, a very Gibraltar of defense. "As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even for ever," sang the Psalmist.

But the history of fortresses, ancient and modern, is a proof, many times over, that walls and location are no protection from assault and capture. Christ Jesus prophesied the fall of Jerusalem, because he knew this; he beheld going on in the lives of his own people that inner dissolution, the result of ruling God out of their hearts. He revealed and demonstrated where alone impregnability is to be found—in Soul.

We see that, from the first, Christ Jesus made valuable use of his environment, adapting it always to his highest purpose. He faithfully served his human filial apprenticeship, he preached in the synagogues, he dined with publicans, he went to the wedding in Galilee, he moved among people. The surroundings with which he was familiar, the people whom he knew, and who knew him, he did not ignore or despise. From them he selected his friends, his patients, his audiences; from them he chose his disciples.

Nevertheless this was not where he dwelt. No national, social, or human demand could limit or delay his spiritual progress. Every experience was but the means to an appointed end. The walls of Jerusalem did not overawe or confine him. Nothing of the history, the tradition, the sanctity of the city held his thought or blurred his vision. With him always, in everything that he did, was the consciousness of the infinity of Mind—the glory which Spirit alone confers. His thought was anchored in heaven, even while he dwelt among men.

Not our human surroundings, whatever form they take, but our own mental standpoint determines our lives. With the recognition of spiritual selfhood each one reaches out beyond the seemingly tangible. He learns to subordinate the human to the divine, in continuous unfoldment.

In speaking of the birth of the spiritual idea, Mary Baker Eddy writes in "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" (p. 463), "Though gathering new energy, this idea cannot injure its useful surroundings in the travail of spiritual birth."

In spite of the greatness, the revolutionary nature of her discovery, Mrs. Eddy sought in her presentation of it to lead thought gently and gradually, with reason and with proof, to the truth. As had Jesus, she appealed to the earnest religionist, the intelligent scholar, while ministering to those who because of need came for healing and redemption.

No fanaticism, no violence, characterized her mission. On page 485 of Science and Health we find these words: "Emerge gently from matter into Spirit." Only pride and stubbornness, only resistance to the spiritual idea or ignorance of its true meaning, could arouse hatred of anything which from the first sought so lovingly and gently to heal the sicknesses and assuage the sorrows of humanity.

How perfectly, with what compassion and patience, did Jesus deal with his human environment! With what wisdom, with what architectural genius, did our Leader plan and build, from its minute beginnings, her church, which in a few years was to assume vast and world-wide proportions! One false step in dealing with those useful surroundings, one flaw in that planning and directing, and their dislocation or disruption would have followed. But the inspiration and the usefulness went forward hand in hand.

He who enters into an awareness of his own spiritual selfhood, into relationship with God as idea or reflection, functioning no longer merely as a mortal in a material environment but in the consciousness of his spiritual status in the realm of Mind, is experiencing the new birth. Arguments may tempt him to believe that emergence must be slow. But when Spirit is his goal, he will learn otherwise. He who has come to see that the man of God's creation is not in a mortal environment, but is a spiritual idea dwelling in the realm of Mind, has no goal, no paramount purpose, but to prove, in ever-gathering energy, the reality of things. Grasping in intelligent comprehension the defects and the assets of his present environment, he can determine his emergence in gentleness, and yet with no indulgence for or submission to that which would hamper or delay.

Many times is the spiritual energy of the divine idea seeking expression stifled, silenced, set back, because material usefulness rivets the attention and human influences deflect judgment. As ephemeral, as valueless to our safety and our well-being as were the mountains round about Jerusalem when the enemy assailed it, are all mortal safeguards. Only in the travail of spiritual birth does the individual begin to learn that his surroundings are safe and permanent because God is round about him.

Evelyn F. Heywood