So there I was, teacher of the post-high school Sunday School class at The Mother Church, and the tables had turned completely.
I had taken the new post joyfully, thinking that it was a perfect fit for someone who liked to delve into the “intellectual” aspect of Christian Science. And it was. But as the class year progressed, I realized that wasn’t enough. And by the end, I’d seen my need for something completely different: to accept this Science as a little child, and not as if it were a graduate-level seminar.
It was teaching Sunday School that helped me along that path.
I had never taught Sunday School before, but even when I started with the college students, there was no question I felt uncomfortable discussing. No topic was off-limits. In fact, the tougher the questions, the better. “Let’s use this time; let’s get to work,” I often heard myself saying to the students.
But that meant I had to get to work, too. Sure, I might have found the words to answer any question, but did I have the spirit of Christian Science?
I found that the feeling of accomplishment I got from my Sunday lesson plans was directly correlated to the prayerful work I did during the week. The more my prayer was touched by an earnest desire “to know and do the will of God” (Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 11), the richer our Sundays were. The more my plans were filled with the “letter”—an intellectual quest merely to make a defensible line of argument along the lines of human reasoning—the more uninspiring the dialogue was, even if I had spent several hours painstakingly preparing a lesson.
I was learning something. I didn’t want students to leave class feeling glibly satisfied with being Christian Scientists. I wanted them to feel invigorated and challenged to look beyond a material picture to spiritual Truth. And the most effective way to do that was to feel invigorated myself.
A funny thing happened. The more I worked and prayed, the more clearly I saw the simplicity of the work—that Christian Scientists might not always be the most intellectual people at the table. But they certainly aim for purity of thought and steadfastness. Christian Science healing is not complicated, but a world fascinated with materialism would try to make us believe that it’s difficult to learn and practice.
So I found myself telling the students: It all goes back to what you learned in your third grade Sunday School class. Are we keeping guard over our thinking, standing “porter at the door of thought” (Science and Health, p. 392)? Do we really believe that God is good and is All-in-all? Are we loving our neighbor, as Jesus teaches in the parable of the good Samaritan (see Luke 10:25–37)?
No intellectualism is required. We all need to live and breathe these questions and their answers to bring more of the divine Principle behind them into our lives. It turns out I needed a refresher course.
So now I’m teaching the third graders, and learning that some of the deepest graces of God can be seen in a child’s pure love of her pet cat.
