Nature (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

By Margaret Pounders

In this broad earth of ours

Amid the measureless grossness and the slag,

Enclosed and safe within its central heart,

Nestles the seed of Perfection.

The great mystic-poet Walt Whitman, in his “Song of the Universal,” expressed a truth that most of us recognize as an ideal but not as reality. We perceive that somewhere within us exists that spark of divinity, the “seed of Perfection.” Jesus, however, said, “You, therefore, must be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

For centuries, Jesus’ words have been brushed aside as meaning: “You really ought to be perfect” (a nice idea, but of course we can’t attain it); or “You should strive to be perfect” (God appreciates our efforts, though we’ll never make it); or “If you want to go to heaven when you die, you’d better be perfect!” (but since God knows this is impossible, God sacrificed His son on a cross to take away our sins). Somewhere along the way another concept arose: “You’re not perfect now, but someday, after this life is over, you’ll be perfect” (a total change in consciousness brought about by the mere event of physical death?).

These are not the teachings of Jesus. He did not waste time on futile idealisms. He was a practical man whose purpose was to show us how to live the abundant life. He was not speaking of duty or of attempting to become something we cannot become or even of potentiality. Jesus was speaking Truth and fact—right here and now.

If there were some question as to our biological classification or species, it might be resolved thusly: “You, therefore, must be human, as your earthly parents are human.” Logical? Of course. There is no question that we ought to be or should be human, or that someday, through the grace and sacrifice of our parents, we might achieve some degree of humanity. We are human. It is our nature and cannot be denied.

In this same manner, we are spiritually perfect. This, too, is our nature and cannot be denied.

A beautiful pecan tree, perhaps a hundred years old, grows in our front yard. I hold its fruit in my hand. The pecan is small, less than an inch long and a half inch in diameter. Yet as it falls to the ground, all the forces of nature begin the process that results in a pecan tree.

via Perfection | Unity.