The thirsty hikers bypassed the stagnant, algae-covered pool and headed for the spring-fed stream of water bubbling out over the rocks. Wouldn't we all do the same?
The freshest water is water that moves. It is fed by a spring or flows on a course. And this activity, aeration, of the water keeps it fresh. Contrariwise, stagnant pools are unfit for drinking. The analogy in human life is apparent. But we needn't become stagnant. God isn't stagnant; Life isn't stagnant, and neither is Life's idea—man, our true identity.
Our church work need not become sluggish, nor do our prayer, our study, or our interests have to stagnate. Christly activity is kept fresh and lively by divine Life itself. Stagnation implies a sense of idleness, inactivity, dormancy, sluggishness, listlessness. It involves deterioration. But we don't have to stagnate, vegetate, become inactive Christian Scientists. We can remain lively members of the movement.
