I looked into the rose; it was perfect. Not yet full-blown, yet open enough. The first bloom of spring. I sat the bloom in a vase of water on my table where I could look at it and admire its beauty. The perfume pervaded the room, establishing its presence. I spent moments in contemplating ‘perfection,’ the flower. I admired it, dwelt on its hue and form.
I gazed into the heart of the flower. A thought came to mind. I am looking at the Lord. He created this flower in all its glorious tinges. No blemishes anywhere. It was the personification of my Lord in his perfection, his beauty, and holiness. No wonder they called him the Rose of Sharon. Of course, whatever Jesus created it would be flawless. He was Mr Perfect himself.
It is easy to love the rose, its colour, beauty, perfection, how we love to collect the perfect thing. Build the perfect home, surround ourselves with what we call perfect. How we strive to become perfect we who are not perfect but marred by rebellion against God. For all our striving we cannot give ourselves a makeover. No matter what our efforts are, we are still less than perfect.
The scripture says, ‘You must be holy, for I am holy,’ (1 Peter 1: 16.NIV) as holy as God is holy and perfect. We weep at our inability to attain that holiness or perfection. The wonder of it is that when we embrace Jesus, let him into our lives; he imparts his perfection to us. He makes us as faultless as himself and like the rose, we give off the sweet aroma of Christ in us which the world around us cannot ignore. ‘“For we are unto God a fragrant savour of Christ,…’ (2Corinthians 2: 15-16 NIV)
I cannot take my eyes off the rose, its beauty, its perfection. I can never be a part of it or it of me. On the other hand, Jesus made it possible for me to be a part of him and he a part of me. The miracle is that ‘I am crucified with Christ: and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.’ (Galatians(2: 20. LB) Jesus made it possible for me to be part of him and he a part of me.
The rose will die. Jesus died. I died with Christ. The rose cannot be resurrected. Jesus arose from death. I rose with Jesus. He carried me with him into the Father’s throne room. We are one, ‘for you have become part of him,’ (Romans 6: 5 LB). I now live in Perfection and Perfection lives in me. We are one. All who accept and believe Jesus, he has made them joint heirs with him. (Romans 8: 17)
I can only bow in worship of One who bent down and gave me his faultless self and told me, that by his offering, he has made me perfect in the Father’s sight,’ Hebrews 10:14.
I shall not forget the rose nor the Rose of Sharon, Jesus.