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When they reached the slopes of the mountain, Grace and Glory stood still in delighted surprise, for stretching before her were fields of slender reeds, swaying in the breeze and tossing lightly in rhythmical motion like waves on a slightly rolling sea. On this sea there were lines of foamy white crests, for at that season of the year the reeds were all flowering and each sheath had opened out into a frothy white cobweb around the brown stamens. It was the wind blowing through this sea of gently swaying reeds which produced the low musical murmurings which so delighted her ears. …

… the King began to tell his companion about the reeds of gentleness. He said that the chief product from them was a lovely perfume extracted from the lower part of the canes. This perfume lingered about the persons who wore it, all day long, very fresh and fragrant and soothing. He explained also that it was the pliability of the reeds and their perpetual motion which developed the spice from which the perfume was made, and he pointed out to her the exquisite grace and lovely, unresisting meekness with which they bowed themselves before the wind, sometimes right to the ground, only to sweep upright again from that low position, without apparent effort or strain of any kind, as soon as the wind had passed over them. A lovely gracious submissiveness characterized their every movement and yet at the same time there was something grandly regal about the poise and perfect control of their motions, no weakness of any kind but the most perfect command.

"They know how to be abased and how to be exalted," thought Grace and Glory with sudden understanding, and she realized that the lovely fragrance which exuded from them and which men call gentleness, sympathy and loving understanding was developed by the daily practice of bending submissively to life's hard and difficult experiences without bitterness, or resentful resistance and self-pity. She saw quite clearly that no force of storm or tempest would be able to harm or break the reeds because they had learned to bow themselves so easily to the least breath of wind, without offering any resistance at all. It was this gentle movement of submissiveness, combined with perfect balance and graceful motion, which produced the cadences of music sounding all over the mountainside, for the wind turned every reed into an instrument through which to play the harmonies of heaven.

Mountains of Spices
Hannah Hurnard

Healthy biblical communities are flexible communities. Not flexible buildings — like earthquake-proof skyscrapers in San Francisco — but flexible people, who know how (and when) to submit, to yield and to abide.

When I first read Hannah Hurnard's depiction of the undulating reeds on the Mountain of Calamus (see inset), it occurred to me that gentleness — and the other fruits of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5:22-23 — may well be the very essence of flexibility. But there's a great deal more to know. And like Grace and Glory in Hurnard's allegory, I realized that the reeds have much to teach us about the eternal importance of flexibility and why it must be a fragrance lingering among us in the church.

Submitting
Picture a reed bowing down gently, nearly caressing the ground before it, submitting to the force of the wind. Now picture the love of Christ (1 Corinthians 13) reaching out to welcome and accommodate those who may be different or difficult. Flexibility seeks peace and pursues it (Psalm 34:14); it doesn't love only with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth (1 John 3:18). Flexibility gives and cooperates and honors; it reaches out to include and connect — not looking only to its own interests, but also to the interests of others (Philippians 2:4).

Yielding
Picture a reed bowing down backward, blown over by the force of the wind, wanting to resist yet choosing to yield, awaiting the opportunity to lift and rise once more. Now picture the mercy and forgiveness of Christ demonstrated through believers who clothe themselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; and who bear with the shortcomings of others (Colossians 3:12-13). Flexibility yields to the idiosyncrasies and foibles of the fainthearted, choosing instead to speak the truth in love and seek the highest good.

Abiding
Picture a reed at rest, standing tall, its flowering top crowned with beauty and brightness. Now picture a tree firmly planted by streams of water, yielding its fruit in season (Psalm 1:3); or a branch abiding in the vine — also bearing fruit, much fruit (John 15:5). The wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere (James 3:17); and the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7). Flexible people abide in Christ. And it is this abiding that allows them to submit and yield, yet always to return to a position of rest, of confidence, of strength. There — standing tall once again — they lift their arms and voices in praise to an eternal God who loves and guides them as they endure the challenges and difficulties of life in the dust and dirt of the field.

The Importance of Being Flexible
Inflexibility can be one of the biggest impediments to the growth and fruitfulness of a healthy biblical community. Why would seekers desire to become part of a group of people who want to label them and squeeze them into a preset mold? Why would people struggling with addiction or prejudice or shame want to be part of a group who refuses to acknowledge, accept and minister to their struggles and pain? Unfortunately, without flexibility, that's the way it is.

And while the saints in such an inflexible church might at first appear to be flexible — stretching and twisting like a brand-new rubber band — when the pulling subsides they don't quite return to that nice, round shape you'd expect. Instead, they end up flimsy, sagging and shapeless. The rubber is shot, and the rubber band is useful no longer. Both seekers and members drift away.

"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing" (2 Corinthians 2:15). "We have the mind of Christ" (1 Corinthians 2:16). And, like the reeds on the Mountain of Calamus, we have the ability to be flexible. To submit. To yield. To abide.

When we answer the call to do — and be — like those undulating reeds, our flexibility becomes an alluring fragrance, an enduring aroma that beckons us, and others, to draw nearer to God.