I used to be very anxious about talking with others about Christian Science. The root of this anxiety may have been partly nervousness, but there was also a deeper issue: I was holding on to a belief that understanding Christian Science made me different—or even better—than everyone else.
Whether your first student runs into the Christian Science Sunday School with a Superman cape on and poses with his hands on his hips, or hides in his grandmother’s arms because he doesn’t want her to leave, you are in for a treat. Teaching the three- and four-year-old children is a true treasure.
We arrived a t the Samaria Gorge in Crete, Greece, just as the sun was rising. The sunbeams bathed the towering rocks in a warm light, and I was excited to begin our 11-mile descent down the gorge.
Christ Jesus’ disciples once asked him to teach them how to pray. The Master’s thoughts on how to pray correctly were included in his Sermon on the Mount.
To become new — how promising this sounds, how refreshing, how healing. This promise of newness must have been exciting and intimidating at the same time for Nicodemus, a theological teacher who approached Jesus one evening to discuss matters of spiritual importance, matters of theological weight.
Years ago as a college student, I joined a large branch Church of Christ, Scientist—my very first. I remember one lady telling me, as if confiding a joyful secret, that it’s in a branch church that one really begins to grow spiritually.
If one is studying math, it would be logical to apply the lessons of mathematics to everyday problems. Even a child who has just learned that 2+2=4 is thrilled to find as many opportunities as possible to demonstrate this new understanding.
All science requires universally repeatable proof. When a new scientific discovery is made, the application and study of it by a scientific community naturally results in the building up of a body of evidence.
One evening while my husband and I were having dinner, a topic in the news came up in our conversation, and we suddenly found ourselves in a battle of opposing opinions. The argument ended when I snapped at him and we left the table.
In the world of theater, to “break the fourth wall” is to remove the illusion of separation between the audience and the players onstage. A stage set usually has three solid walls, and then an invisible “fourth wall” between the actors and the audience.