He had a corporate job, with a long commute to and from Chicago’s Loop, and plenty of satisfying church and other volunteer work on the weekends. But had one over-arching desire: “to keep my thought open to any way in which I could serve God.” To do the radically right thing even if that proved the harder, steeper road.
Oh, and Ron dreamed about seeing Alaska.
“It was just the dream of getting there for a few months, and seeking some quiet and solitude,” Ron says. “But I fell in love with Alaska, stayed longer than I’d planned, and eventually made it my home. I was always asking God: What can I do to be of service to You?” And that something proved to be healing through prayer and teaching the Science of Christian healing.
As Ron observes, “We live in a world that’s pretty fast-moving, and filled with all kinds of noises and distractions. People are finding it challenging to find those moments of solitude and quietness. We really need to make sure we’re taking time in our lives to be still, so that we can know that God is God.”
Palmer, Alaska, became for Ron and his family that place to be still and get to know God—and to serve Him.
What about the long Alaskan winter, with its lack of sunlight? Is that ever something that, in your practice, has become a challenge?
Ron Mangelsdorf: Oh, from what I’ve heard from people who’ve lived here a long time—and I’ve been here over 30 years now—this whole concept of “cabin fever” seems to be one of those modern-day things that has caught on. The old timers here have never heard of such a thing. Winter is just a part of people’s lives. They deal with the seasons as they come along, and never seem to feel cooped up for long. What a lot of people have learned while living up here is that darkness isn’t always what you think it is. Oftentimes it’s the darkness that provides some of the most special aspects of spending a winter in Alaska, because with the darkness the northern lights appear. In the darkness with a full moon shining on the snow, it’s just as brilliant as daylight. We go for moonlight skis and you would think there was a spotlight in the sky. It just lights up the whole landscape. And it’s very still, quiet, beautiful, very peaceful.
What were your life and career like “before Alaska”?
I have such a clear, distinct memory of committing myself to serving God. I had rented a little one-room log cabin in Libertyville, Illinois, for about five years after I got out of college. It was a beautiful place on the back part of a five-hundred acre horse farm, right on the banks of the Des Plaines River, with several magnificent oak trees surrounding the cabin. There was a forest preserve on the other side of the river and pasture land in front. It was a wonderful little sanctuary. I was working in Chicago at the time, and I could come home every day, and as I turned into the tree-lined driveway, I felt I was entering a whole different world. I was in my early 20s, and I just found myself thinking of the many wonderful blessings that I had received from God, and feeling as if He had opened the windows of heaven and poured me out blessings, more than I could receive. As I thought about that, I began to feel that I should be giving something back to God, not just being on the receiving end all the time. I reasoned that since God had given so much to me, I ought to give a lot back. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that even if I gave back to God for the rest of my life, it would only be an infinitesimal portion of all that He had given me.
But I felt I could do no less than to give God my all. There was kind of an exciting eagerness about that. The more I thought about it—joyfully looking forward to a life of giving back to God, of serving God—I wasn’t really thinking in terms of the Christian Science healing practice; it just meant at that time, keeping my thought open to any way in which I could serve God.
Some years later, I came across something in The Interpreter’s Bible that summed up what I had been feeling at that time: “When . . . a man experiences the miracle of forgiveness, it follows unavoidably that he must lay his whole life at the feet of Him who has blessed him so marvelously. Inevitably and naturally, without any striving, there comes to the man that which cannot be brought about by any laws . . . namely, the impulse to devote himself to God. . . . A man whose soul is filled to overflowing with gratitude does more, of his own free will, . . . than is demanded from him. . . . actions are free from all self-consciousness. ‘Faith does not ask whether it ought to do good works: it has done them already.’ ” Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. 8, p. 808.
It becomes an inevitable and natural impulse, then, to want to lay our whole life at the feet of God who has blessed us, and to devote ourselves to Him. I think it was about that time, too, that I adopted a motto that I have since tried to live by. It’s a very familiar verse from Mary Baker Eddy’s poem “Christ, My Refuge,” which ends up by saying:
My prayer, some daily good to do
To Thine, for Thee;
An offering pure of Love,
whereto God leadeth me. Poems, p. 12.
That’s something I’ve tried to live by every day; it gives me direction in my life, a divine impulse. This is what I pray each day—to be able to do something good for God, and to be sure that it’s an offering that’s pure of Love, wherever God is leading me. From there, so many different things have unfolded as ways to serve God.
Was there a moment during that five-year stretch in your woodsy retreat when you reached a tipping point and you knew you were on a certain path, or was it just a gradual development of thought?
There was a time in the middle of those five years, when I took Christian Science class instruction, and it was at that point that the practice really started to jell in my own thought. Soon after the class, within the year, I quit my engineering job and took a part-time job so that I could begin to devote part of my time to the practice. It was a pretty natural development, but there were definite things that happened during that time. Leading up to taking class, being fresh out of college and wanting to make a difference in the world, I got involved with church work, and several other things. There was a regional youth meeting in Chicago, and I helped organize and plan it, and I was also a chapter advisor for Adventure Unlimited (now known as DiscoveryBound), and we had a pretty big chapter of over a hundred kids. As sometimes happens in life, I got so involved with what I felt were worthy causes that the demands of these activities left no time for my own spiritual development. I still had a lot of unanswered questions of my own and a need to grow much more in my understanding of Christian Science. So that’s when I thought about taking class and pursued it. Everything changed after that class and my focus became the healing practice.
One of the things I treasure the most in life is those quiet moments of being alone with God. That cabin certainly provided a beautiful atmosphere for that. The moment I turned into the gate of the property was like entering a whole other world—from the hustle and bustle of Chicago, to this little cabin in the woods. There was no heat in the cabin. The only thing I had was a fireplace, so in the wintertime it got quite cold. I’d get home in the evening from work and it would be 20 degrees in the cabin, but I’d get a big fire going in the fireplace and pull my chair up right in front of it, my books around me . . .
. . . and get into your comfort zone?
Yes, and that’s actually one of the first lessons I learned about the practice. I would look forward to getting home in the evenings to devote time to the practice. I was just going to pray, study, give treatments, and practice. And I’d get home, and I’d build this giant, warm fire, and get the cabin warming up, and pull my leather chair up in front of the fire, pile up all my books—and promptly fall asleep. I’d wake up two or three hours later with the fire going out. So I learned that we have to be careful that it’s not physical comfort we’re after, but mental comfort—that sense of mental peace. The practice isn’t about getting into a comfort zone, but rather getting to work, getting into those places in thought that are willing to challenge the widely accepted misconceptions about life.
You had to defend yourself against the pull to sleep?
Yeah. I guess at that time I probably didn’t even recognize what that was, other than that it was just way too cozy and way too warm. I was living a pretty active, busy life, and so it seemed like the moment I’d sit down there was that tendency to want to drift off, but it helped me to see that that’s not the best thing for being in the practice. You certainly want to be alert, and situated in a way that you are going to stay alert, and do what you need to do. It isn’t about being in a cozy, comfortable spot, but rather being at your post—ready to work and pray.
Because calls for help can come any time of the night or day.
That’s right. But it’s pretty easy to get lulled into that “stupefying illusion,” See Science and Health, p. 95. and drift off. We have to make sure that we’re not doing that. So I literally moved away from the fire, and worked at my desk, and that seemed to take care of that tendency.
You told me some time ago about a conversation you had with a practitioner, who encouraged you to ask your questions of God.
It was while I was in college, a little bit before I was living in the Libertyville cabin. My college years were a challenging time. I was struggling academically, it was at the height of the Vietnam War, and I was just doing a lot of searching and trying to figure out my beliefs about war and serving one’s country, and wondering at the same time what I would be doing with the rest of my life after college. I was filled with a lot of uncertainty about my purpose in life. I was talking with a practitioner one day, and took that as an opportunity to unload all the questions I had! She suggested that I read a passage from the Bible, from Isaiah 45: “Thus saith the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, and his Maker, Ask me of things to come concerning my sons, and concerning the work of my hands command ye me.” Isaiah 45:11. As I read that, something wonderful happened. This great sense of peace came over me. One moment I was filled with questions and not knowing where to turn, and a moment later, after reading that passage, I knew exactly where to turn—that I would turn to God. I would ask God, my Maker, of things to come concerning His son.
That was almost 40 years ago now, and, to the best of my recollection, that was the last time I ever recall asking another person for advice or direction or guidance. And ever since that day I only ask God of things to come concerning my experience. And ever since then I feel that He has directed me in all my ways. I’ve always looked at that as an instantaneous healing that has had a life-altering effect on me—all those questions just disappearing, and having this sense that I knew what to do, I knew where to turn. I knew where to go to find answers.
I think there’s something very comforting and reassuring—something I draw heavily upon every day—to feel we have that connection with God, that oneness with God. It’s just a very powerful thing. It most certainly helps us. And, again, the beauty of it is, because it comes from God, it includes everything that God expresses, and it’s correct, right, helpful, powerful, unerring, instantaneous, and ever present.
I try to make that part of my daily prayer for the world, too, to see how that passage from Isaiah applies to all of humanity, to recognize that God is our Maker, that God is the only cause, and that we can ask Him of things to come concerning His creation.
You didn’t stay in the one-room cabin and remain a backwoods guy. You and your wife, Katie, have three children. How has having a family been part of your practice?
Well, it’s been a very helpful influence, one that has promoted growth in my own spiritual understanding. People often remark about how grateful they are for the support of a spouse. I feel the same sense of gratitude for the support I have always gotten from my children. Let me give you a small example. When our daughters were about two and four, they were learning that my work involved praying for people who needed help, and that when my phone rang I would go into my home office, shut the door, and pray. One time, after a call, I opened my door and the two girls were outside my office kneeling with their eyes closed tight and hands pressed together in very earnest prayer. It was so precious, so meaningful, and so representative of the support family has been to my practice.
We started our family about the same time I was going into the full-time practice of Christian Science, and it became very clear at that time, as we were having our children, that there never was a sense that family demands were going to be a burden on the practice, or that they would interfere in some way with the practice. That thought never made sense to us. Our concept of marriage and family has always been a natural expanding of the love we felt in our relationship, and how that continued to grow with each child that came along. And it was that way in the practice. It never was a burden, it never became a balancing act, or anything like that. It’s always been a blessing.
In the early days of your practice was there one healing in particular that stood out to you?
Yes, one example involved a toddler who got a piece of apple lodged in her throat and was having great difficulty breathing. When the child’s face started to turn blue, the mother tried calling 911, but for some reason wasn't able to get through. I was taking a computer class at the time, but someone contacted me in the class with a message from the mom. I began to pray from the spiritually scientific standpoint that divine Principle “is equal to every emergency.” See Science and Health, p. 406.. It wasn't about if paramedics could be reached in time, but rather understanding that God was already there meeting the need. The mother had no option but to put all her trust in God, and very quickly the piece of apple dislodged itself. The child’s breathing returned to normal and all was well.
I can imagine, especially raising three children, that there have been times when you are up against fear or something else that would say, “Is prayer enough?”
Yeah, and you’re right because I get those kinds of calls from young parents. That’s probably the most frightening thing, when something of a threatening nature comes up in a child’s life, there’s always that fear, Am I going to be able to help them or do the right thing and meet the need? One of the big lessons I’ve learned is that God never asks us to do more than we’re able. That there isn’t ever going to be anything that comes into our experience that is beyond our ability. A loving God certainly wouldn’t allow for that. What does come into our experience are the things that can be handled and met and dealt with in an effective way. That’s helped to eliminate fear or doubt about an outcome—is this more than we can deal with? Are we going to be totally overwhelmed by this? Learning that doesn’t happen has been very helpful in the practice.
Sometimes the conventional view of prayer is that it’s not really doing something.
Well, prayer in Christian Science is all based on understanding that “with God all things are possible” Matthew 19:26. ; that there are laws of God that are always operating throughout the universe; that Mary Baker Eddy discovered in Christian Science those laws, and how they were the basis for the healing work that Jesus did; and that she has explained them through her textbook on Christian Science, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. All those things come into play to enable us to feel that this is something very concrete that we’re working with. That the Truth is not abstract, but very real, and that it can be applied in a consistent way, with consistent results, when applied correctly, based on our understanding of some of these universal truths and divine principles that govern the whole universe, including man. So, for example, when Mrs. Eddy says, “Mind’s control over the universe, including man, is no longer an open question, but is demonstrable Science,” Science and Health, p. 171. to me, that answers the whole question, are you really doing something when you’re praying? That’s not even an open question anymore. That question has been answered. It’s clearly established that God does govern the universe. We don’t have to wonder about if He’s going to do that. That’s an established fact. So we can shift from asking the question, to demonstrating the fact. It all becomes more about putting ideas into practice and demonstrating them; no longer wondering or asking the question, but really working on the demonstration.
I’ve heard demonstration explained in Christian Science as “an action that comes out of understanding.” It’s when you’re facing an illness or injury and come to the point of accepting with your whole heart the truth of being spiritual, and that insight impels action, impels you to move forward, impels healing.
That’s a great explanation of what happens in healing, and it has to have that sense of action and activity. We define God as all-acting, so it’s not that there’s a God who sits around and observes the universe but that He’s very much an active part of everything that’s going on.
In order to heal effectively, don’t we need that sense of nothing being impossible to God?
Yes, that goes right to the heart of the practice, that’s the starting point. If I didn’t feel that truth, wasn’t absolutely convinced of it, and didn’t have that abiding conviction that all things are possible to God, it would make the practice of Christian Science much more challenging and difficult. Jesus talked about the kind of faith that could move mountains, adding “and shall not doubt in his heart.” Mark 11:23. That little phrase, “shall not doubt in his heart,” that’s one of the things we strive for in the practice, this abiding conviction in which there is no doubting God’s ability to care for creation.
Perhaps doubt or distrust can creep in from the practice of asking for answers from sources other than God. If you’re turning to people instead of to God, then you’re taking a humanly guided approach, rather than a divinely guided one.
I love where Mrs. Eddy states, “. . . we must act as possessing all power from Him in whom we have our being.” Science and Health, p. 264. We need to act that way, because we do possess all power from God. The healing power doesn’t come from anywhere else. The power is God, comes from God, and nowhere else. Mrs. Eddy also says that “. . . timid conservatism is absolutely inadmissible.” Ibid., p. 167. One definition of conservative is “adverse to rapid change.” Well, that’s just the opposite of instantaneous. If we want to be instantaneous healers, we can’t be adverse to a quick change. And timid means “lacking in courage or self-confidence,” which, again, is just the opposite of that abiding conviction so important in the practice. So if, in our prayers, we’re being timid, we’ve already defeated ourselves. Or if you lack courage or self-confidence, you are praying from a standpoint of weakness and doubt. And that, most likely, will not result in a powerful prayer that brings healing. A timid, conservative thought is no match against aggressive mental suggestions and malicious animal magnetism. You can counter that sense of timid conservatism with some character traits that I think describe us as practitioners: moral courage, boldness, radical reliance, solid convictions, fierce determination, momentous struggles, mighty conquests, heroic endeavors, powerful prayers, unflinching trust, unwavering footsteps, and undaunted faith. One of my favorite hymns says:
Father, hear the prayer we offer;
Not for ease that prayer shall be,
But for strength, that we may ever
Live our lives courageously. Love M. Willis, Christian Science Hymnal, No. 55.
This hymn has taught me a great lesson about the practice and being a practitioner. Oftentimes my prayer needs to be not for ease, but for strength, and I love the idea that with the strength that comes from God, we can live our lives courageously. And we can take the kind of bold actions that are required, have complete reliance on God. Once we can accomplish that consistently, it’s so helpful, given the fact that most problems in life are built around fear. If we can begin to live our lives courageously, then we’re not being governed by fear. And that puts us in a much more powerful place to practice Christian Science.
What about a case that isn’t healed right away?
Mrs. Eddy explains, “If you fail to succeed in any case, it is because you have not demonstrated the life of Christ, Truth, more in your own life . . . .” Science and Health, p. 149. That doesn’t mean we aren’t being good Christians, that we aren’t Christlike. To me it means exactly what she says, that we need to demonstrate more the life of Christ. So we’re already trying to live that life of Christ and demonstrate it, but in cases where the healing hasn’t come about yet, that just means that we need to do more of that—not quit, not give up, not put ourselves down, or condemn ourselves, or doubt our ability to be a healer, or get discouraged. It tells me I just need to do a better job of living more the life of Christ. And I’ve discovered that this works.
Another valuable lesson to me in the practice is where Mary Baker Eddy wrote: “Human life is too short for foibles or failures.” Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896, p. 285. Foible means a “character flaw or a moral weakness.” I think most everyone is well aware of their flaws and weaknesses, though some may pretend they don’t exist. Others may acknowledge them, but think they will deal with them at a later date. Others may just accept and live with them, thinking there’s nothing they can do to change who they are or what they’ve done. Well, what I get from that statement is that human life is too short for that. We have to address our character flaws. It ties in with the basic premise of Christianity, of character redemption—that we should become better individuals as we go along in life.
What is it that causes the change from worse to better—that removes the character flaw?
I think it’s striving to be more Christlike, to change the basis of our thought, just recognizing that there’s always something better, higher, and holier to strive for. Christian Science teaches that we can’t ignore our foibles or our flaws or our failures. It demands that we perfect our lives and overturn past failures. Life is just too short to accept anything less. There’s no time for trying to justify our shortcomings, no time to wallow in our mistakes. Life demands that we grow and progress and improve—and do it now. That’s why I like that counsel of Paul’s: “Now is the accepted time” II Corinthians 6:2. to work out your foibles. “Every hour of delay,” Mrs. Eddy says, “makes the struggle more severe.” Science and Health, p. 407.
But sometimes don’t we want to slide into that leather chair near the fire, and just see if it will go away?
Yeah, that’s right . . . dream away the hours. There’s a hymn that says, “Think what Jesus did to win thee,” Henry Francis Lyte, Christian Science Hymanl, No. 16 6. and that’s another one of those phrases that I find myself pondering quite often. The more I think about it, the more I realize why “we owe him endless homage.” See Science and Health, p. 18. It reminds me of the common slogan: “What would Jesus do?” There’s some merit in asking that question. It shows that people are looking for better ways of doing things, a more Christly approach to living. But while I’m certain that question provides some helpful guidance to many, “Think what Jesus did to win thee” is a demand to think what Jesus actually did, rather than wonder about what he would do. All that he did is recorded in the Bible, and available to all to learn from. When I think about what it was that Jesus did to win me, I’m reminded of the inspiration of his intense sacrifice. And every time I think about that, I’m just deeply moved. It’s one of those powerful, motivating impulses in my life.
In her Miscellaneous Writings, Mrs. Eddy says, “To the battle-worn and weary Christian hero, Life eternal brings blessings.” Miscellaneous Writings, p. 85. A Christian hero is one who is “battle-worn and weary.” This comes up in the practice all the time. I get calls from people who say they are just “worn out,” and feel like they’ve been through a struggle—but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. That’s a mark, or a characteristic of a Christian hero—one who has “fought the good fight.” It really has to do with kind of the life we live, the good works and the good deeds we do. And when I think of a battle-worn idea, I think of something that has been tested by fire; and at some point, maybe on numerous occasions, our feet are going to be put to the fire, or we’re going to find ourselves in a fiery furnace. There probably isn’t anyone who hasn’t had to face a fire or two in their lives. That can be a good thing, and we can come out untouched and without even the smell of smoke on us.
But I like that idea of being “battle-worn.” When I think of something that’s “worn in,” or broken in, there’s something about it that feels good. If it’s your favorite pair of jeans or hiking shoes or leather work gloves, when you wear it in, break it in, that’s a good thing. And so, when one is engaged in the good fight or taking on mortal beliefs, should it wear one out? Or does it wear one in?
Maybe your view of being “worn in” comes closer to experiencing the Comforter’s sustaining power. It’s truly “not for ease” we pray, “but for strength” and God’s comfort in any challenge.
In The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany it says “. . . that as Christian Scientists we are as yet but imperfect followers of the perfect Christ . . .” Miscellany, p. 11. There’s nothing wrong with being an “imperfect follower.” It just means we haven’t yet mastered or perfected our practice of the Christ. We’re still doing it, still trying, and still being effective. We’re not perfect like Jesus was, but it’s OK to be an “imperfect follower.” That’s something that a lot of Christian Scientists struggle with—they think they’re supposed to be the perfect child of God, and we know that’s true in an absolute sense, but it doesn’t mean that we have to be perfect human beings, because none of us are. And there’s nothing wrong with being an “imperfect follower” as long as we’re following the perfect Christ.
