Christian Scientists stand on the truth that the universe is spiritual, that God made all, and that His creation is very good. They endeavor to obtain a clearer discernment of this universe, knowing that spiritual enlightenment will make evident better health and more harmony and abundance in their experience. The true Christian Scientist concerns himself with Jesus' admonition (Matt. 6:33), "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." First, last, and always the seeking of the kingdom of God is his concern, and he knows that to the extent of his turning to it all that is necessary to his well-being appears.
When we seek the kingdom of God, that is, when we open our eyes to its presence, for Jesus said that it is at hand—"The kingdom of God is within you" (Luke 17:21) —we use the "things" that appear, use them and appreciate them, but value them only as the evidence of demonstration. We value them highly because they are the result of an understanding of God, Spirit, not because we attach permanent value to them of themselves.
In Christian Science we learn that God is All and He is Spirit; therefore all real being is spiritual. Material existence is an illusion arising from the mist of the earth. It is our work to look through this mist and to behold God and the spiritual universe—joyous, harmonious, now and forever perfect and intact. Obviously we cannot look through the mist of the material scene, the illusion of material being, with the human eye or the human intellect. Reality can only be discerned spiritually.
It was Jesus' spiritual discernment which enabled him to perform his so-called miracles. On pages 476 and 477 of "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" Mary Baker Eddy tells us clearly how Jesus healed. She says: "Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God's own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick."
These beautiful lines from Science and Health came often and strongly to the thought of the writer when she was living for a time in one of the countries of the Near East where many of Jesus' followers once walked and performed great works, but where, today, even those who would call themselves Christians are very few, and where the visible scene seems to have fallen into a deplorably impoverished, unhappy state. At times the writer was tempted to be quite overwhelmed with the immensity and the apparent hopelessness of the problems that seemed everywhere apparent, and she spent a great deal of time struggling over them, trying to do something humanly about improving them.
Among the importuners who often followed her on the streets was a young boy with lovely brown eyes and a quick warm smile, who presented a most unhappy picture of the lack of all good things and one of indescribable dirtiness. He could speak but a few words of English, and she could speak but little of his language. "Houseboy?" he kept asking of her. She was glad that he wanted to work rather than to beg, but she realized that in his condition no one would possibly take him as a houseboy. There were things she would have liked to tell him, but there were no words for the telling, and even had there been words he would still have lacked the background to understand the import of them. There seemed no way of helping him with any degree of permanence.
Then one day as she handed him a few coins, aware of their inadequacy to touch his real need, the lines quoted above from Science and Health flashed into thought. It came to her that Jesus must have encountered many people who looked much like those around her, like this very boy, and she began to think of what Jesus did about it. Surely he did not stand helpless, offering a few coins, mentally listing the human things that needed correction and searching for a means of communicating the truth. Instead, he turned completely from the picture before him and spiritually beheld man as he is, in all his beauty and cleanliness and health. He "beheld in Science the perfect man," and, in this beholding, the change which was called healing spontaneously took place. He sought God, accepted only the presence of God, and the "things" necessary to the change of the scene were added. Out of the depths of her heart the writer prayed: "Lord, open Thou mine eyes that I too may see! Let there be light!"
And suddenly there was light. There was nothing but light—the light of spiritual reality. So bright was the light that she was no longer conscious of the boy or the place; she was not aware of saying good-by or of walking away from him. She was aware only of God's presence and of His spiritual, perfect universe.
For several days the boy did not even come into her thought. And then one day she again met him on the street, and she could scarcely believe her eyes. He was truly a new person. There were no sores on his face. He was clean—his clothes, face, teeth, hands, hair. In her delight she exclaimed excitedly over his changed appearance and pointed to his clothes. "New!"
"No new," he said. "Wash."
The words came out: "Who? Who told you to do these things?"
It took him a moment to answer: "No man. No man tell." Then, still searching for words, he looked upward, his gaze slowly following a great semicircle above. Then suddenly, joyously, he explained, "I" —and he pointed, not to himself, but upward—"I! I tell me."
"I tell me." That was all he could say, all he needed to say. His whole expression proclaimed eloquently that the message had come to him from on high. He was using "I" as Mrs. Eddy correctly defines it for us on page 588 of Science and Health where she says in part, "There is but one I, or Us, but one divine Principle, or Mind, governing all existence." The universal Mind, that Mind which was in Christ Jesus, had spoken to him, directed him, healed him, possessed him.
That was the beginning of a complete transformation for the boy. Shortly he found work with a French family, and he continued to appear healthy and radiantly happy; he was always clean, and soon he began to show forth many little marks of French courtesy. He even became a man of property, buying himself a bicycle out of his earnings.
The experience was also the beginning of a changed attitude for the writer toward the entire country. Instead of looking out on a miserable scene that appeared to need so much done to it, she kept her eyes more firmly fixed on reality. She turned continually to Mrs. Eddy's words on page 264 of Science and Health, "Mortals must look beyond fading, finite forms, if they would gain the true sense of things."
Habakkuk says of God (1:13), "Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity." Since God cannot behold evil, can the man of God do so? We must see what God sees and not be overwhelmed by the apparent human situation. We should no more take our lists of human problems to God for correction than we would take a list of the dark corners of a room to the electric power. Light knows only light. All we need to do to the darkened room is to turn on the electric light. What we need to do for the darkened consciousness is to make apparent the light of Truth. All we need to ask for is spiritual discernment. Through spiritual discernment we behold the perfect man and perfect creation. And this beholding appears outwardly as healing.
