One of the most profound Christian Science services I’ve ever experienced was in a humble little village in Kenya. The entire congregation of three met my husband and me at our cottage, and walked us about half a mile through the unpaved streets to a video store. Closed on Sunday, it functioned as their church.
Picture the empty, worn, wooden shelves, the movies stored away. One shuttered window had been opened, and the front door was flung wide, letting in patches of bright sunshine. Passersby leaned in, curious to hear the ongoing service.
We sat on one of a few wooden benches. Several little girls took our hands and sat with us throughout the entire service. Because there were not enough members to teach Sunday School, everyone met together. The three adult members shared all the duties of reading, soloing, operating the tape deck for music—everything.
To human eyes, this service may have suggested a checklist of lack, but when we left this virtual palace of loving thought, we were floating on air. It remains one of the most cherished church experiences of my life. You might say it was church alive.
