Christmas Eve, 1988. I was in a funk. I couldn’t see that I was making much progress in my life. My teaching career seemed to be frozen, and I was beginning to think my husband and I would never own our own home or have children. The world seemed a very bleak and unhappy place to me. No matter how many batches of fudge I whipped up or how many times I heard Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” I couldn’t seem to find the Christmas spirit.
I was washing the breakfast dishes, thinking my unhappy thoughts, when I heard gunshots coming from the pasture behind our house. I thought it was the neighbor boys shooting at the seagulls again and, all full of teacherly harrumph, decided to take it upon myself to go out and “have a word with them.”
But after I’d marched outside I realized that it wasn’t the neighbor boys at all. John, the dairy farmer who lived on the adjoining property, was walking away with a rifle, and an animal (a calf, I thought) was struggling to get up in the field behind our house. Every time it would push up on its legs it would immediately collapse back to the ground.
I wondered if maybe John had made a mistake and accidentally shot the animal, so I ran out to investigate and found that the animal was a dog. It had foam and blood around its muzzle. She was vulnerable and helpless – had just been shot, after all – but instead of lashing out at me or growling as I’d expect an injured animal to do, she was looking up at me with an expression of trust and seemed to be expecting me to take care of her.
“John!” I yelled, running after the farmer. He turned around, surprised to see me. “John, what happened?” I asked, pointing back towards the dog.
A look of remorse came into his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry you saw that, Karen. The dog is a stray and it’s been chasing my cows. I had to kill it.”
“But John, it’s not dead yet.”
John looked back at the dog and grimaced. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’ll go finish the job. Put it out of its misery.”
By this time another dog had joined the dog that had been shot. It was running around its friend, barking encouragement, trying to get its buddy to rise up and escape. The sight of the one dog trying to help his comrade broke my heart. I made a quick decision. “Let me and my husband take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and he agreed to let me do what I could for the animal.
Unbeknownst to me, as soon as I ran out of the house my husband, knowing that something was wrong, had gotten out his binoculars and was watching my progress in the field. He saw the look on my face as I ran back. By the time I reached our house he was ready to do whatever he needed to do to help me. I explained the situation to him, we put together a box full of towels, and he called the vet.
As we drove his truck around to where the dog lay in the field, I noticed that, while the dog’s canine companion had finally left the scene (never to be seen again), John had gone to the dog and was kneeling down next to her. He was petting her, using soothing words to comfort her, and the dog was looking up at John with that look of trust she’d given me. John helped my husband load her in the back of the truck and we began our drive to the vet’s.
I rode in the back of the truck with the dog as my husband drove, and sang hymns to her. As I sang words from one of my favorite hymns from the Christian Science Hymnal– “Everlasting arms of Love are beneathe, around, above” – the dog leaned against my shoulder and looked up at me with an expression of pure love in her blue eyes.
Once we reached the animal clinic, the veterinarian came out to take a look at her. After checking her over he told us that apparently a bullet had gone through her head, that he’d take care of her over the holiday weekend – keep her warm and hydrated – but that he wasn’t going to give her any medical treatment. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t think the dog was going to make it.
My husband and I went to my parents’ home for the Christmas weekend, both of us praying that the dog would still be alive when we returned. For me, praying for her really meant trying to see the dog as God sees her. I tried to realize the wholeness and completeness of her as an expression of God, an idea of God. I reasoned that all the dog could experience was the goodness of God – all she could feel is what Love feels, all she could know is what Truth knows, all she could be is the perfect reflection of God. I tried to recognize the reality of these things for me, too, and for all of God’s creation.
She made it through the weekend, but when we went to pick her up the vet told us that she wasn’t “out of the woods, yet.” He told us that if she couldn’t eat, drink, or walk on her own in the next few days, we’d need to bring her back and he’d need to put her to sleep.
We brought her home and put her in a big box in our living room, with a bowl of water and soft dog food by her side. I continued to pray. In the middle of the night I got up and went out to where she lay in her box. Impulsively, I bent down and scooped some water from the dish into her mouth. She swallowed it, and then leaned over and drank a little from the bowl. I was elated! Inspired by her reaction to the water, I bent over and grabbed a glob of dog food and threw a little onto her tongue. She smacked her mouth together, swallowed the food, and leaned over to eat a bit more. Now I was beyond elated! She’d accomplished two of the three requirements the vet had made for her!
The next day I took her out for a walk. She’d take a few steps and then lean against me. Then she’d take a few more steps and lean. But she was walking! We would not be taking her back to the veterinarian.
In the next two weeks her progress was amazing. By the end of that period she was not only walking, but running and jumping and chasing balls. Her appetite was healthy. She was having no problems drinking or eating.
But one of the most amazing parts of this whole Christmas blessing was the relationship that developed between this dog and the man who had shot her. They became good friends. The dog, in fact, became the neighborhood mascot. (And she never again chased anyone’s cows.)
What the dog brought to me, who had, if you recall, been in a deep funk when she entered our lives, was a sense of the true spirit of Christmas – the Christly spirit of forgiveness, hope, faith, love. She brought me the recognition that nothing, absolutely nothing, is impossible to God.
We named our new dog Christmas because that is what she brought us that year.
Within a few years all those things that I had wondered if I would ever have as part of my life came to me – a teaching job, children, and a home of our own. It is my belief that our Christmas Dog prepared my heart to be ready for all of those things to enter my life.
Today a friend I met on the Amazon Discussion Forums years ago emailed me a copy of an exchange we’d had about Christian Science on the Religion Forum. What made this exchange so remarkable for me was that my friend – who went by the moniker “tokolosi” – wasn’t himself a Christian Scientist, but his questions were genuine and he actually listened to what I had to say. It meant a lot, to me, that he’d saved this exchange from long ago, and took the time to send it to me today. I hadn’t heard from my friend for maybe a year, so his email was unexpected. I needed hope for our world today, and “tokolosi” sent it to me.
(I love the summation our friend “Aardwizzz” gives to the whole exchange, too. It was fun to see his voice pop up there at the end.)
From an Amazon Religion Forum exchange:
Karen Wingoof (me) says:
There seems to be an assumption here that everyone who calls himself or herself a Christian is a creationist, in battle against logic, reason, education, and the science of evolution.
A few months ago—from sheer weariness at being constantly lumped in with the doings and beliefs of conservative Christians—and being expected to either defend them or change them—I decided I would no longer identify myself as a Christian, but as a “Karenian”—no longer responsible for anyone else’s foibles, flaws, beliefs, thoughts, and behaviors but my own. I’ve kind of enjoyed the freedom this has brought me. But, to be completely honest, although I’ve changed the label for myself, I still hold the same beliefs I held when I called myself a “Christian”—and I never held the belief that evolution and science were my enemies. In fact, most of my friends who still identify themselves as Christian believe in the workings of evolution—I can’t think of any friends who might believe humans and dinosaurs roamed the earth together like The Flintstones.
Regarding my thoughts on Christian Science: In my mind I’ve come to separate Christian Science into two separate parts—there’s CS the religion; and there’s CS as a way of perceiving the world and a way of living. The religion doesn’t really hold much interest for me these days. I’m just not a very religious person (Humoristianity excepted). I’m not into group-think, group-talk, or group-walk. I like having the freedom to follow my own path, and I will never be made to feel responsible for other people’s beliefs or actions—whether they call themselves Christian Scientists, Christians, theists, or Humoristians. I think any sane person recognizes that you’ll find crazies in pretty much every group—and I think any fair and just person would agree that whole groups of people shouldn’t be judged by the actions of the extremists within their membership.
CS as a way of life—as a way of perceiving life—has brought me a lot of good. The practice of CS has taught me how to bring my thoughts close to God—to Love and Truth—and how to experience healing by doing so. I’ve witnessed or experienced healings of (among other things) mastoiditis (the healing was instantaneous—one moment my little brother was screaming in pain, the next moment he was snoring and sleeping and completely healed), bronchitis; an inflamed hand (markers in a blood test indicated rheumatoid arthritis—but, after calling a CS practitioner for support the hand deflated within a couple days and I’ve never experienced a repeat of that condition in the three years since then); the natural delivery of my youngest son after I’d been wheeled down to the OR for a caesarean (one of the nurses was crying—she said she’d never been able to witness a natural delivery before and it was so beautiful); and what my eye doctor said was a melanoma on my eyelid. (I recently asked for a copy of my medical records from the family physician just to make sure I’d remembered all this stuff correctly and hadn’t inadvertently made any of it up—and the records substantiate my memory of events.) I’ve also experienced healings of clinical depression, and healings in relationships, supply, and employment. So. Yeah. I’ve been able to prove, for myself, the healing power found in Love and Truth.
Whew. That took some time and thought. How’d I do? 🙂
Shoot! My battery’s almost dead. I guess I better post this before my computer goes kapooey here.
tokolosi says:
Karen, I’m a bit confused. (OK, in addition to my normal state…) I don’t know much if anything about CS, but for instance, you said “after calling a CS practitioner for support” such and such occurred. What did calling this person accomplish (I mean besides the healing, or why did calling this person make it happen)? And, with the other miraculous healings, what was it that brought about the outcomes? I mean, did you or others “pray” or “lay on hands” or some such? Do you pray to “God” (or more specific, what you perceive is the Christian God)? No snark intended here. Genuinely curious. Thnx.
Karen Wingoof says:
No snark taken. 🙂
(Got my computer plugged-in now, so it should be good. I am starting to run out of energy, though, so… zzzzzzzzz)
For CSists prayer doesn’t mean pleading, cajoling, or begging some higher power to fix everything. What it really means—for me, anyway—is just filling my thoughts up with love, joy, forgiveness, hope, confidence, courage—and when I’m able to do this, I experience healing.
In the case of my puffed-up hand I’d gone to work and shown my hand to my colleagues who expressed a lot of concern for me and shared stories about allergic reactions and infections that had almost killed loved ones—they had me pretty scared—and so I went to the family physician to have it checked-out. He usually jokes around with me, but this time he did not joke. He said that it looked like I had either a serious infection or a serious reaction of some kind and wanted to take blood samples and put me on medications. I told him I didn’t want to take any drugs until I knew for sure what was going on, but I agreed to let them take blood samples. Then I went home and called a CS practitioner. What the practitioner did for me was—well, I remember just feeling this confidence coming from her. I remember laughing with her. The next morning my hand was even more puffed-up, but I wasn’t scared anymore. I knew I was healed even before my hand looked normal. And by the second morning after I’d called the practitioner it had deflated and I was fine.
I called the doctor’s office to get the results of the blood test, and the receptionist told me the blood test indicated markers for rheumatoid arthritis and they wanted me to get in touch with a rheumatoid specialist. I told her I was completely fine. She was shocked. She brought a nurse to the phone. I told the nurse I was fine, and she sort of paused—I could tell she was surprised—and told me that she guessed I didn’t have to do anything more right then, but to let them know if the condition returned—which it hasn’t.
When I was being wheeled to the OR for a C-section, I asked my mom to call a CS practitioner for support—my mom said the practitioner told her, with conviction, “God loves that baby!” The doctors hooked me up to a machine to monitor the baby. I could feel the love in the room—the love from the medical staff—and I had this sense that everything was moving in harmony with Love. Just before they were going to slice me open, the doctors got these surprised looks on their faces, and then they started yelling, “Push! Push!” And the baby was born naturally. Later, when I asked my midwife why I’d been able to have my son naturally, she said, “We don’t know.”
CSists don’t consider healings to be miracles, by the way. CSists see healings as natural and normal and to be expected—the natural outcome of a change of thought.
tokolosi says:
“CSists don’t consider healings to be miracles, by the way. CSists see healings as natural and normal and to be expected—the natural outcome of a change of thought.”
Excellent! (So is the rest.) Mirrors my own thoughts. (Though not associated with any formal/structured philosophy, i.e., “tokolosi 101.”)
Karen Wingoof says:
Ohmygosh, I’m so glad to hear that, tokolosi! I was really nervous about that post. To be honest, I was sorely tempted to just ignore your questions because I suspect that when I talk about this stuff I usually just end up looking like more of a nut than people already know I am. Thanks for asking, and thanks for being so gracious about the answer. 🙂
tokolosi says:
To me, the healings you describe are “miraculous” but not *miracles*. Way-cool s*** happens because we are human, and can happen for sometimes uncanny inexplicable reasons many times associated with focused intention. But nothing “supernatural” is necessary—it’s just part of the *Human* Experience. (Not-very-well articulated tokolosi 101.)
Aardwizzz says:
Well done, tokolosi, well done. Instead of trying to fit Karen’s experience into your worldview, you attempt to fit your experiences into her worldview. And she had done the same for you as she was relating her tale: telling it without expecting anyone to share the belief that goes behind it. I think that’s called “communication,” but I’m not sure, as I see so little of it these days.
Dentist appointment in Sedro today for a cleaning and a check.
I got there early and noticed that a couple people who came after me were getting ushered into their appointments. I also noted that my file seemed to be in the back. “Well, I probably should move my file to the front!” I thought, and went over to the files to do that. (I know. I am such a Karen.) But then I realized that the files weren’t just put there randomly – there were specific slots and mine was in the right one for me. So then I felt ashamed that I’d been all in a harrumph about this. (It’s so embarrassing being a Karen.)
Right after that my hygienist, Renee, came to fetch me. I apologized for my rudeness, but she hadn’t seen any of what I’d been up to, and told me not to worry about it. Renee is new there, and she was great – efficient, professional, talked to me about what she was doing while she did it. She said the best part of the job is meeting the people, hearing their stories, and sharing hers. (And she told me that my gums and teeth were beautiful, and I should keep up the good work. )
Hansrolf, my dentist, came in then to look over my x-rays and check out my teeth. I told him about my earlier rudeness and he started laughing. “You gotta be careful about moving your file into other slots or you’ll find yourself getting a root canal!” he said.
I told him, “Don’t laugh, but I used Christian Science voodoo to heal my root canal problem a few weeks ago.” He laughed. (I’ve found that whenever I start a sentence with “don’t laugh” the funnest people always start laughing immediately.) He hadn’t checked the periodontist’s report, yet, but did then. He told me everything looked fine. And, regarding my “CS voodoo,” he said that if something works for someone, who is he to question it? He asked me if anything hurt. I said no. He said, “Well, if it’s not broken, we don’t need to fix it.”
When I left, I stopped off at the receptionist and apologized for messing with the files. She smiled and told me not to worry about this. I’d done nothing wrong. It was all good.
Whew!
Another patient left right before me, and when I followed her out she turned around and asked me if we knew each other. I felt like we did. We asked each other questions – workplaces, neighborhoods, etc. We decided that maybe we didn’t know each other after all, but acknowledged that it was nice to meet each other now. As I turned to leave, she yelled, “Wait! What’s your dad’s name?” I told her “Dee Molenaar.” She asked me if I’d posted stories about him on Facebook. I told her I had. She said she’d bought the book about the adventures I’d had with Dad in the last years of his life, and she said it had meant a lot to her. She started tearing up then. She said my stories had helped her as she navigated the last years of HER father’s life with him. She’d taken her dad on drives, too.
I asked her if I could have a hug, and we hugged, right there, on the corner of Metcalf and State. I told my new friend, Lisa, that her words had meant a lot to me. And they had. It was like Love had sent me this sweet message right when I needed a reminder that I’m okay.
I started back to my car. I peeked into The Mountain Shop as I went by and saw the owner of the shop – my friend, Craig, in there. Craig introduced me to Nima, a mountaineering sherpa, and told Nima a little about my mountaineering dad. It was lovely to see Craig again, and lovely to meet Nima.
There’s this alley on Metcalf, that has a canopy of rainbow-colored umbrellas strung across it. I stood there for a moment – just watching the umbrellas move in the breeze. It was peaceful there.
I’d been a little nervous about going to my dental appointment. I’d been tempted to cancel because I have so much else going on right now. But I’m glad I didn’t cancel. Look at all the reassurances from Love that awaited me!
I’ve been hesitant to share this because I’m not sure how people will react to it, but… what the heck, right? I think it would be shameful if I let my cowardice prevent me from expressing my gratitude.
A couple of weeks ago I began feeling a pain in my tooth that felt suspiciously like the pain I’d had that had led to a root canal a few years ago. Two weeks ago on Friday I ate something hot and the nagging pain went to a throbbing pain that lasted for hours. My dentist’s office isn’t open on Fridays, or the weekend, so going to the dentist was not an option for me.
I reached out to a Christian Science practitioner for her prayerful support, and very soon I felt the pain diminishing. She gave me some thoughts to work with on the topic of “substance.” As I prayed, I focused on these three ideas: 1) Love, God, made everything, and everything Love made was good. So there is no bad substance. 2) There is no lack or limitation of good substance because Love is infinite and unlimited. 3) Disease is unnatural. This became my mantra – “There’s no bad substance. There’s no lack of good substance. Disease is unnatural.”
At some point that weekend I felt like I’d been healed. The pain was gone. I called the practitioner and thanked her for her support, and told her I was going to take it from there. But doubts continued to enter into my thought. I’m going to visit family in California in a couple weeks, and the idea of dealing with tooth pain while I’m down there was concerning.
So on the next Monday morning I called my dentist and went in to see him a couple days later. I described what the pain had felt like the week before, and he did some tests and looked at some x-rays and said everything pointed to a root canal. His office made an appointment for me to see a periodontist the next day.
As I was driving to the periodontist I listened to CS hymns on my CD player. As the singers were singing about “light,” the light shone through the clouds and landed on me. And I realized I wouldn’t be surprised if the periodontist told me I didn’t need a root canal, after all.
X-rays were taken, tests were performed, and guess what? The periodontist told me I didn’t need a root canal, after all. He said one of my old fillings was going to need to be replaced by a crown at some point, but my regular dentist could do that for me.
Love, God, laughed with me all the way home.
I haven’t felt any tooth pain at all in the last couple of weeks.
A few weeks ago I woke up with an itchy rash and welts on my head and neck, and going down my back. Concerned I might have something contagious, and not wanting to put my husband at risk, I drove myself to the local urgent care the next day, praying all the way to know that Love went before me.
The first cool thing that happened was that they didn’t make me get on a scale. The next cool thing that happened was that I was assured my blood pressure was fine (I always kind of freak out when I go to doctors, and I expected my b.p. to be through the roof). The third cool thing that happened was that the doctor told me I didn’t seem to have anything contagious. She said, though, that she could give me an antihistamine or a steroid – but I told her no, I was good – as long as I wasn’t going to cause harm to anyone else, I was fine. (Everyone was very kind and calm at the Urgent Care and I really appreciated that.)
When I got home, I called a local Christian Science practitioner/teacher for her prayerful support. And she was wonderful! I felt her loving support instantly! She sent me to various articles and podcasts for inspiration – that was really helpful to me. She sent me to an excellent podcast with Mark Swinney, a Cristian Science practitioner and teacher. And she invited me to join her branch church’s Wednesday night testimony meeting via zoom.
One of the last passages the reader read at the Wednesday night meeting was Mary Baker Eddy’s interpretation of the 23rd Psalm, and I felt healing come with this line: “Love anointeth my head with oil; my cup runneth over.” I could just feel God’s love pouring over my head, soothing and comforting. I just wrapped myself all up in Love’s love.
I heard the telltale thump on the dining room window and ran around the house to see if I could help. The robin was lying on the ground, not moving, but I could see he was still breathing. I gently scooped him into my hands and began to talk to him: “God is your Life. You are the perfect, whole, complete expression of Love. You live in the realm of Good – you are never outside of God’s governance – never separated from Love.” And I softly sang one of my favorite hymns to him: “Everlasting arms of Love are beneath, around, above.”
The robin watched me and listened to me and seemed to be comfortable in my hands. He didn’t seem at all scared of me.
When I first picked him up his beak was open, and I wondered if his beak was injured in some way. I saw blood in my palm and realized he had a wound on his breast. I continued to affirm to myself and to the little robin that he was safe and whole and embraced in Love, and slowly his beak closed.
I brought him up to the deck and put him in a flower box on the railing. I kept stroking his back, and talking to him, and he stayed there, listening. Then I asked, “Are you ready to fly now?” And he lifted up his wings – just like that! – and flew over to the fencing around the blueberry patch.
I whooped to him from the deck: “Have a wonderful day, little one!”
Yesterday I found myself ruminating on a difficult situation I’d found myself in a dozen years ago. I thought I’d moved on and left it all behind me – the difficulties of that time had impelled me to launch myself out into the Great Unknown and given me the opportunity to find a wonderful new place for myself, and I was grateful for that.
But yesterday I found myself thinking about the unfairness of what had happened to me a dozen years ago, and the mean-spiritedness of the people involved. Yesterday I found myself having a hard time letting go of the resentment I discovered I still felt towards the people who’d made my life so challenging all those years ago.
I prayed about this.
And as I was reading this week’s Bible Lesson in the Christian Science Quarterly, this passage jumped out at me: “Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” (Galatians 5:1.) Whoah. A dozen years ago I escaped from a difficult situation and found myself in a wonderful new place. A dozen years ago I found my freedom. I don’t need to ever be “entangled again” with that “yoke of bondage” – not even through my memories. I’m free! Why would I want to go back – even in my memories – to a time when I wasn’t?
And this passage in the lesson this week made me think about how I see others – am I seeing EVERYone as the beautiful child of God? “…give up imperfect models and illlusive ideals; and so let us have one God, one Mind, and that one perfect, producing His own models of excellence.” Can any of God’s children ever do harm to Her other children? No, of course not! I need to let go of any illusion I might have that any of God’s children can be less than the perfection of Love.
I realize that I need to forgive others their human-ness as they work their way through life, just as I hope others will forgive MY human-ness. NO one is where they were twelve years ago. We’ve all progressed and grown.
And NONE of us needs to be entangled again in old yokes of bondage.
Baker Lake Trail in the North Cascades. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
I had the great good pleasure to speak at the Skagit Unitarian Universalist Fellowship yesterday (always so fun!) on the healing power of Love. Here’s a link to the podcast of my sermon:
Every now and then something really amazing happens – people with different perspectives on life will get beyond biases, prejudices, and stereotypes and have a real conversation with each other! I love when that happens…
Here are excerpts from a recent conversation about Christian Science on an Amazon Discussion Forum:
Mustaaaaard says: Yeah. Christian Science. The people who let their children die because they don’t believe in Tylenol. Eff off.
Karen says: I was raised by a CS mom (now 87) and a non-religious dad (will be 97 in a month), and I could not have asked for better parents. My parents maybe didn’t share the same religious beliefs, but they shared the same values and taught their children to take care of the environment, to appreciate the beauty of nature, to look for the good in people, to play fair, to not be quick to judge others, to not buy into every piece of hearsay, rumor, and gossip that comes our way, but to do our own research, and question our own beliefs and biases, and recognize the biases of others, too. I’m really grateful they are still in my life.
The Weasel asks:
Karen, can the core beliefs of CS be boiled down to a few bullet points? Can you try to list them as far as you understand them to be please?
Karen says: Hi Weasel,It’s probably important to note that I am not an official spokesperson for the CS church or anything – and I do not speak for any other CSists – just for myself. CSists come in all shapes and sizes and colors and political parties and most professions (I even knew a CSist who was a dentist 🙂 ). There’s no one in our church leadership telling us how to vote or who to vote for or where to stand on social-political issues – that is left up to individual conscience. Some CSists are religious. Some are not. I am not. In my mind I make a distinction between the religion of Christian Science, and Christian Science as a way of living, and a way of looking at the world.
It might actually be easier to start with what CSists don’t believe: – CSists don’t believe in an anthropomorphic god – CSists don’t believe the world was literally created in a week – CSists don’t believe in literal places of hell and heaven – CSists don’t believe in pleading, cajoling, and begging a capricious supernatural god who might choose to heal, or might choose to not heal his children – CSists don’t believe in Original Sin, or that God’s children are sinners.
What CSists believe: – Mary Baker Eddy, the discover of CS, offers these synonyms for God: Principle, Mind, Soul, Spirit, Life, Truth, and Love. – CSists believe that Jesus’ mission here was to show us how to heal. In the CS textbook, Eddy writes: “Atonement is the exemplification of man’s unity with God, whereby man reflects divine Truth, Life, and Love. Jesus of Nazareth taught and demonstrated man’s oneness with the Father, and for this we owe him endless homage. His mission was both individual and collective. He did life’s work aright not only in justice to himself, but in mercy to mortals,- to show them how to do theirs, but not to do it for them nor to relieve them of a single responsibility.”
What *I* have experienced:– I have found that when I’m able to draw my thoughts close to Love – to fill my thoughts up with joy, hope, and love (and eliminate fear, hate, and anger) – I experience healing in my life. I don’t have to plead with Love to heal me – it’s the nature of Love to heal. I don’t consider these healings “miracles” – I consider them natural.I apologize. I realize this was kind of long. I couldn’t figure out how to explain an entire way of life in a pithy post. Hope this helps you understand how at least ONE Christian Scientist looks at the world.And thanks for asking! 🙂 Karen
Lifelong Atheist says: There is no evidence whatsoever that prayer works at all (and no, “I prayed and God healed my little girl” is not evidence). There is plenty of evidence that medical care works, preventable errors notwithstanding. I can personally testify to that. Christian Science parents who deliberately withhold medical care from their children in favor of prayer are potential murderers. If their child then dies, they’re actual murderers. That’s the bottom line for me.
Karen says: Lifelong,I suppose there may be CSists who view medical science as The Enemy. I am not one of them. My brother-in-law is an anesthesiologist, my sister-in-law is an emergency room nurse, a niece is a medical doctor, a nephew just graduated from med school – and these are all people I love and respect very much – they are not my enemies – they work very hard to do what they can to help their patients. But they are also all people of integrity and honesty – and I don’t doubt that they’d be the first to tell you that medical science is not perfect – theories about cause and cure are constantly in flux; medications that help one person might kill another; what seems like “good medical practice” today might prove to be the source of woe tomorrow. I’m sure we’ve all had friends and family members for whom the medical treatment that was supposed to cure them actually ended up killing them – I know I have. And I’m pretty sure we’ve all seen those commercials on television that tell us about the side effects of drugs that might include liver problems, depression, vulnerability to infections, diarrhea, nausea, death, etc. – I’m always wondering who is running out to get those medications, you know? I think a healthy skepticism in regards to medical science – as well as Christian Science, faith healing, religious beliefs, mass media, and political propoganda – is a good thing. Blind and unquestioning trust in any form of treatment does not seem very healthy to me.
Have you ever read Norman Cousins’s Anatomy of an Illness As Perceived by the Patient? I would highly recommend it. Here’s my review for it:
In the beginning of the book, Cousins tells us about the illness from which he was told by medical specialists he wouldn’t be able to recover. He briefly describes how he declined to accept this medical verdict for himself, and with the support of his personal physician, set about putting into action a plan of treatment for himself which included plying himself with high doses of ascorbic acid (vitamin C) and humor (Candid Camera episodes, and Marx Brothers movies).Cousins was able to recover from his illness and later wrote a story about his treatment and recovery for the New England Journal of Medicine.
The remainder of the book shares communication from doctors and medical research that supports Cousins’s belief that medical care is both a science and an art – and that positive human emotions play a big part in recovery from an illness. Cousins talks about theimportance of a healthy doctor-patient partnership when treating disease, the part creativity and a “robust will to live” plays in longevity, and the power found in placebos. Cousins writes: “It is doubtful whether the placebo – or any drug, for that matter – would get very far without a patient’s robust will to live… The placebo is only a tangible object made essential in an age that feels uncomfortable with intangibles… The placebo, then, is an emissary between the will to live and the body. But the emissary is expendable.”
Cousins talks about the need so many seem to have to see their doctor DOing something, and giving them something tangible to help them. But Cousins suggests there may come a time when these “tangibles” are no longer needed.
Near the end of the book, Cousins asks the question: “Is there a conflict at times between the treatment of disease and the treatment of human beings?” What a great question! If a doctor treats his patient as just a lump of flesh to be prodded, injected, weighed, measured, and tested then, I think, a really important part of the healing process is missing. The best doctors, to my way of thinking, are the ones who are able to listen totheir patients, reassure them, provide confidence in their healing, and value them as partners in the process. In my life I have encountered several practitioners with these fine qualities. After reading Cousins’s book, and the letters he included from doctors around the country, I am encouraged to believe that there is a growing number of medical physicians ready and willing to treat human beings, rather than just disease.
Art asks: “It might actually be easier to start with what CSists don’t believe: – CSists don’t believe in an anthropomorphic god – CSists don’t believe in pleading, cajoling, and begging a capricious supernatural god who might choose to heal, or might choose to not heal his children” OK, final question for now Karen: I always thought that Christian Scientists WERE praying and pleading with a capricious supernatural god to heal illnesses rather than take a family member to a doctor. If not, what is the exact nature of the prayer involved?
Karen replies: Art, you ask: “I always thought that Christian Scientists WERE praying and pleading with a capricious supernatural god to heal illnesses rather than take a family member to a doctor. If not, what is the exact nature of the prayer involved?”
Thank you for asking this question. Christian Scientists have been lumped in with “faith healers” a couple times on this thread. Faith healers would not appreciate this – I’m pretty sure they consider CS a cult and its members “un-Christian” – and CSists don’t consider themselves faith healers. You wouldn’t hear a CSist ever saying “It’s God’s will” that someone died, or “God wanted that child with Him in heaven.” CSists don’t do the talking in tongues thing, or the laying on of hands thing, or the handling serpents thing. CSists may be crazy, but they are a totally different kind of crazy. 🙂
Mary Baker Eddy’s written a whole chapter on “Prayer” in the CS textbook, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. Here are some thoughts about prayer from that chapter:
“God is not moved by the breath of praise to do more than He has already done, nor can the infinite do less than bestow all good, since He is unchanging wisdom and Love… Prayer cannot change the Science of being, but it tends to bring us into harmony with it… The mere habit of pleading with the divine Mind, as one pleads with a human being, perpetuates the belief in God as humanly circumscribed,- an error which impedes spiritual growth.
“God is Love. Can we ask Him to be more? God is intelligence. Can we inform the infinite Mind of anything He does not already comprehend? Do we expect to change perfection? Shall we plead for more at the open fount, which is pouring forth more than we accept?… Are we really grateful for the good already received? …The habitual struggle to be always good is unceasing prayer…
“‘God is Love.’ More than this we cannot ask, higher we cannot look, farther we cannot go… In divine Science, where prayers are mental, all may avail themselves of God as ‘avery present help in trouble.’ Love is impartial and universal in its adaptation and bestowals.”
What prayer feels like, for me, is… it’s like waking up to a beautiful sunrise in the morning or listening to an inspiring piece of music, or looking at the stars on a clear night – it’s a feeling of uplift – of thoughts soaring, of fear dissipating, of a consciousness full of joy and good will. Often times my prayers come with humor – laughing always seems to help get rid of fear for me – and for me, fear is always a part of whatever problem I’m facing. And Love is always a part of the healing.I’ve sometimes known I was healed before I saw the healing manifested humanly – I could feel the change in my thoughts.
Art asks: Personal question Karen: you don’t believe as your parents do but you still self-identify as a Christian Scientist?
Karen responds: My dad is non-religious. My mom is… she is simply wonderful. My mom wasn’t raised in CS – she found Christian Science not long before she married my dad – she was attracted to this way of life because she liked the idea of a God who is Love – a Love that heals. She never had any kind of official position in the church or anything – like me, she is not really a very religious person. She is an independent thinker and a free spirit – not into group-think.
I identify as a Christian Scientist because I really like the ideas and thoughts found in the CS textbook – I believe in God as Love, and I’ve experienced healing through my understanding of Love.
Art responds: “I identify as a Christian Scientist because I really like the ideas and thoughts found in the CS textbook – I believe in God as Love, and I’ve experienced healing through my understanding of Love.”Thanks for the insight Karen. Anyways, like many here I’ve always had a negative opinion of Christian Scientists so I appreciate an intelligent perspective from somebody like yourself.
Karen replies: Art,You write: “Anyways, like many here I’ve always had a negative opinion of Christian Scientists so I appreciate an intelligent perspective from somebody like yourself.”Thank you.
And thank you for asking questions with a genuine interest in learning what I had to say. That felt really good. 🙂
Buck “Buck” Buckaw says: Michael Nesmith is a devout CS (as I’ve mentioned to you on a previous occasion) but you wouldn’t know it by listening to his music. It didn’t come to my notice until I read a biography about him.
Karen responds: Buck “Buck” Buckaw – I do remember our talking about Michael Nesmith – and I remember enjoying that conversation very much. 🙂
Another one of my favorite people – an atheist, not a Christian Scientist – had this to say about Michael Nesmith: “So then, a few years ago, I was introduced to someone who became a great friend of mine, Michael Nesmith, who has done a number of different things in his career: In addition to being a film producer, he was originally one of the Monkees. Which is kind of odd when you get to know him, because he’s such a serious, thoughtful, quiet chap, but with quiet reserves of impish glee… I just hope that there will be other projects in the future that he and I will work on together, because I like him enormously and we got on very well together.” – Douglas Adams (Adams died not long after that and I don’t think he was able to work with Nesmith again – but it really meant something to me that Adams saw those qualities in Nesmith, a CSist.)
And no, you will not hear a CSist knocking at your door. 🙂 Frankly, it took me a long time before I felt comfortable “admitting” I was a CSist or talking about my way of life in an open and honest way. I know there is a lot of… not sure what the word is… misinformation? bias? prejudice?… about CS, and I’m not always eager to enter discussions about CS… sometimes – if I sense that nobody is really interested in having their minds relieved of their prejudices – I choose not to enter those discussions at all. But it felt to me like there were people on this thread who were genuine and sincere in their questions about CS.It is good to hear your voice again, my friend. Karen
Buck “Buck” Buckaw says: Thank you so much for your kind words, I always enjoy our exchanges immensely and recall them with fondness.Regardless of what belief system you might adhere to, you are a shining light.Keep on shining brightly.
Karen says: Oh, Buck “Buck” Buckaw – thank you. You don’t know what your kind words mean to me tonight. Thank you. I am so glad to know you are in the world.
Buck “Buck” Buckaw says: OK, that’s enough of the mutual admiration society.We risk turning the whole thing into some sort of giant hug fest and that just won’t do, particularly for the more jaundiced participants of this thrill ride.Now, what were we talking about?Oh yeah…..Christian Scientists hey? What a kooky bunch.
)
He said one of my old fillings was going to need to be replaced by a crown at some point, but my regular dentist could do that for me.
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 