Most of us who take pictures, whether with a high-end camera or a cellphone, would agree that aim and focus are key to a successful photograph. You point the camera at your subject, then hold it still until the view through the lens is sharp. When you’ve attended to these important steps, you can expect the resulting photo to be clear and not distorted.
In the same way, aim and focus are key to healing. I have found that thinking about these principles of photography helps me better understand my relationship to God and see that relationship demonstrated in good health.
Spiritually speaking, what does it mean to aim? It means deliberately turning our attention to Spirit, God, rather than matter. Mary Baker Eddy is instructing us to take careful aim when she says in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, “… we must first turn our gaze in the right direction, and then walk that way.” She goes on to say: “We must form perfect models in thought and look at them continually, or we shall never carve them out in grand and noble lives. Let unselfishness, goodness, mercy, justice, health, holiness, love—the kingdom of heaven—reign within us, and sin, disease, and death will diminish until they finally disappear” (p. 248).
In the Bible, Nehemiah is an example of someone who kept a steady aim in the right direction and never allowed himself to be distracted (see Nehemiah, chaps. 1–6). Motivated by love for God and his people, he set a goal to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. He was steadfast in his adherence to unselfishness, mercy, and justice—and courageous in his resistance to their opposites, such as jealousy, fear, anger, and hatred. Several times his enemies tried to tempt him away from this God-directed work, but he stayed on target, refusing to be drawn into arguments with his detractors. Nehemiah’s singular attention to his divine purpose protected him and kept the work moving forward until the wall was finished. In the end, even his enemies had to admit that the rebuilding of the wall was the work of God.
Once we’ve set our sights on the things of Spirit, it’s important to focus—to still our thought on God until we get clear views of Him. Focusing is about letting in the light, as Mrs. Eddy explains in Science and Health, “The rays of infinite Truth, when gathered into the focus of ideas, bring light instantaneously, whereas a thousand years of human doctrines, hypotheses, and vague conjectures emit no such effulgence” (p. 504).
I used to photograph sports; volleyball was a particular challenge when it came to focusing. Because the camera would always autofocus on the net between me and the volleyball players, the photos came out blurry until I remembered to turn off the automatic focus and do that step manually. In a sense, we do the same thing when we pray. We turn off the human mind’s tendency to autofocus on something that takes our attention away from Spirit. Then our views of God and man are clear and unobstructed.
The Bible tells us, “God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). In Christian Science we learn that whatever seems to interfere with that spiritual goodness is unreal, an illusion of material sense. Like the net that obscured my view of the volleyball players, evils, such as sickness, accidents, death—inharmony of any kind—do not really touch or change the perfection of God’s creation. And when we understand how to see through those illusions, they disappear.
These ideas about setting my gaze on God and letting in the light of Truth were important to a healing I experienced about ten years ago. In December 2004, my husband was traveling in Mexico with a group of college students. He’d been gone about a week when he called to ask me to request metaphysical treatment from a Christian Science practitioner. He was unwell, and symptoms suggested it was related to the local food or water. I called a practitioner right away, and my husband quickly improved.
A couple of weeks later, I joined the group in Mexico. On the second or third day, I became uncomfortable and a little dizzy—the same trouble my husband had faced. At the time the symptoms seemed severest, our group was preparing to walk about a mile to a restaurant for a farewell meal. I was so dizzy I wasn’t sure I could make it, but I decided to aim for Truth and healing. As I prayed, I remembered the thoughts about purity that the practitioner had shared with me when my husband had been ill. I don’t recall now exactly what he said, but it was something along the lines of Mrs. Eddy’s statement, “Through discernment of the spiritual opposite of materiality, even the way through Christ, Truth, man … will find himself unfallen, upright, pure, and free …” (Science and Health, p. 171).
As I walked, I focused moment by moment on the truth about God and my likeness to Him, and refused to allow myself to be distracted by the symptoms. Soon I began to feel peaceful. When we reached the restaurant, some Spanish-speaking students helped me order food, even though I could barely imagine eating at the time.
At some point during the meal, I realized the illness was gone. My focus on purity had let in God’s light so I could see the truth of my perfection. I devoured dessert (a clear sign that I was in focus), and after the two-hour lunch, my husband and I walked the long way back to the school where we were staying. There was no more dizziness or discomfort.
Whenever I think of this healing, I’m always reminded of a statement from page 495 of Science and Health: “When the illusion of sickness or sin tempts you, cling steadfastly to God and His idea. Allow nothing but His likeness to abide in your thought. Let neither fear nor doubt overshadow your clear sense and calm trust, that the recognition of life harmonious—as Life eternally is—can destroy any painful sense of, or belief in, that which Life is not.”
Healing is the natural outcome of keeping our aim so true and our focus so sharp that our view of God and His perfect creation can’t be distorted by material illusions.
