Philippians 2:5, 15 – “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus…in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world…” (emphasis added).
“Christ’s life outwardly was one of the most troubled lives that was ever lived: Tempest and tumult, tumult and tempest, the waves breaking over it all the time till the worn body was laid in the grave. But the inner life was a sea of glass. The great calm was always there. At any moment you might have gone to Him and found Rest. And even when the bloodhounds were dogging him in the streets of Jerusalem, He turned to His disciples and offered them, as a last legacy, ‘My peace’ ” (Henry Drommond, Pax Vobiscum).
“…Christ Jesus…threw upon mortals the truer reflection of God and lifted their lives higher than their poor thought-models would allow, — thoughts which presented man as fallen, sick, sinning, and dying” (SH 259:6-11).
Jesus had mastered the troubled waters of mortal mind so much, that his entire being became a still, smooth, polished reflecting surface upon which the light of God could shine undimmed and uninterrupted, one reflected beam of which was more powerful than any laser weapon devised on earth.
“[H]e that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed” (James 1:6).
“The people that sat in darkness have seen a great light” (Matthew 4:16). So today, more than ever before, the light I reflect must be “great,” indeed. This means that my stillness — my death to self — before God must be great, and greater each day. This cannot be faked. The surface of a choppy sea, even on the clearest of days, reflects the sunlight only in patches at best.
“A rest remaineth on earth’s battle fields
To every son of man, a Sabbath rest,—
Progressive states of peace to him who yields
His all to Principle, — unfoldment, blest
With true enlightenment. There is, indeed.
The shadow of a rock, a peaceful place,
A Sabbath rest to-day. The world’s great need
Of seeing Mind, man’s Maker, face to face
Is now supplied. This hour the truest rest
Is striking from the human mind unrest.”
—from “THERE REMAINETH A REST”, by Agnes Chalmers, CS Jouranl, February 1919)