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"I have to tell my friends of this place," he kept repeating as he inhaled the beauty of the site. "It's just what I've always thought must exist somewhere. It's what I've always hoped to find someday."
Then he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. There, in the middle of the unrivalled beauty, was a section of flowers not nearly so well developed. Some were small and scraggly. Some had wilted petals. The background of the foliage wasn't thick enough to hide the ground. Next to one struggling flower there was even a weed!
"I don't believe it!" he gasped. "What are they doing here?"
"I'm sorry. Were you speaking to me?"
The voice startled him. He turned to the gardener he hadn't seen. "Oh, I was just talking to myself," he said hastily. But then he quickly continued, "But, since you're here. . . . Those flowers over there--they're so ugly! Why do you let them stay here?"
"They're not ugly!" the gardener protested. "They're doing very well, really. They just haven't developed to the stage of beauty the older flowers have. I wouldn't expect them to, yet. Development takes time. They'll get there."
"They don't belong here," the man insisted.
"Why not?"
"Because the rest of the garden is so much better! If it's a flower garden, it should be restricted to flowers in full bloom. And that weed! Why haven't you gotten rid of it?"
"Well, there are two reasons," the gardener replied patiently. "The first is that I'm not sure it's a weed. There are flowers that look just like that weed. I can't tell which is which until it blooms. If I pull it before I'm sure, I might be destroying what could have been the most beautiful blossom in the garden. Then again, if it is a weed, I'll have to be very careful how I remove it. See how close it clings to that flower? If I just jerk out the weed, I'll probably kill the flower too."
The man was far from satisfied. "Say what you will," he said, shaking his head, "this is not a garden I can be happy in as long as there is stuff like that here. I was all set to invite all my friends. I won't, though, as long as you permit things like that."
He left, mumbling, "Just like all the other gardens. Advertise flowers and pretend everything is beautiful, but all the time they know good and well some of those flowers are never going to be first-class blossoms. . . ."
On his way out, he no longer smelled the heavenly fragrances that wafted past him. He no longer noticed the explosions of colour that surrounded him. He didn't see the foliage bursting with health and vitality. He did notice a gum wrapper he hadn't seen on the way in. It confirmed his conviction about shoddy groundskeeping. He saw a hole in a leaf where an insect had gnawed, and it cemented his suspicion of carelessness. He compared it to his memory of his grandmother's garden. He couldn't remember a single thing like this in it. By the time he went back out the front gate, he was angry that they dared to call this place a flower garden.
A few days later, a friend mentioned that garden to him, enthusing about its beauty and vitality. Angrily he protested, reciting every flaw he had found there. By now, of course, the gum wrapper was "trash on the walkways", the weed was "weeds and flowers growing together", and the spots of thin foliage were "scraggly leaves that don't even hide the manure they use for fertilizer".
His friend said, "Of course, there are imperfections. Flowers need time to develop and grow and become beautiful. New flowers have to be growing all the time to replace the old ones. So much of that garden is just spectacular! Can't you appreciate the good aspects of it, without concentrating all your attention on every flaw you find?"
He couldn't. He never went back.
Isn't it a shame that some people miss all the beauty because they get obsessed with small areas of imperfection? Once they do, they seem unable to look at or talk about anything else. It's sometimes, tragically, that way in the church too. The church is a place of growth and development for maturing Christians. Some have a spiritual beauty that is stunning. Some are average. Some are still puny and scraggly, but growing. Some are hard to tell from the weeds! But almost every church has such a varied breadth of mature Christians it's beautiful! Almost every church has as its central purpose the spiritual growth and maturity of its members, and works diligently toward that goal.
Paul wrote some very pointed advice in Philippians 4:8. He commanded us to think about, to pay attention to, to fill our mind with, those things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy. That applies when we look at, think about or talk about our church!
Can you imagine what would happen in your congregation if everyone followed that command completely? If nobody had the time (or the desire) to search out and expose (or nurture) whatever flaws exist, those flaws just might prove to be developing roses! Do your part to make it happen.
Bill D. Hallsted is a freelance writer from Griffith, Indiana.
Return to the M.B. Herald Vol. 35, No. 17
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