When the parables of the master Christian are studied in the light of Christian Science, fresh and inspiring views of their profoundly practical value are unfolded. A student who had been meditating upon the parable of the lilies, with its teaching of self-forgetfulness, its healing of the thought anxious about progress and supply, suddenly noted that he had been dwelling almost exclusively upon the beauty of the bloom, comparing it to the lovely result he so earnestly desired in his own experience, whereas Jesus' first injunction is to "consider the lilies of the field, how they grow."
And how do they grow? The great Teacher continues, "They toil not, neither do they spin." Does this mean that we need not labor for our reward? Such an assumption is not consistent with the Master's own actions. He labored mightily to explain the Science of being to mankind, and whenever his explanations were accepted as divine law, healing followed. But Jesus labored without a sense of laboriousness. Toil to him was not toilsome. He did not mistake phenomenon for noumenon. He did not place manifestation before Mind. Working with Principle, he allowed effect to follow cause, easily, gently, inevitably. Is this not what he was endeavoring to impart—the naturalness of spiritual unfoldment, and its painless effect?
Mary Baker Eddy writes in "Miscellaneous Writings" (p. 200), "It was the consummate naturalness of Truth in the mind of Jesus, that made his healing easy and instantaneous." Is this not the lesson of the lilies? In their humble hint at spiritual verities, do we not see how naturally they unfold, without strain or stress, frustration or fear?
