Would St. Paul be the beloved Christian soldier that he is if he had gone out to confront the pagan world in the name of Christ Jesus attended by a cohort of burly, heavily-armed retainers? Would Christ Jesus not have been wise to pack a little heat as protection against poisonous snakes, wild animals, or brigands? Aren't these just the innocent and "prudent" little lies that get the unwary to keep some pills handy, "just in case", or have a "judicious" contingency plan with a local MD or pharmacist? "If I let the guy with the scythe mow me down like a sheaf of wheat I'm no good to Christian Science, my family, my church, or myself, am I?"
What has one gained, though, when he is "alive" but cravenly faithless to God, rather than dead to the lie of life in matter and faithful and obedient to Christ? There is never enough security in matter, medical procedures, or drugs. The need keeps growing for more and more powerful tools and medicines, and yet the juggernaut of affliction and disease rolls on, undeterred and with ever more aggressive mien. I think of that ridiculous arsenal in "Men in Black", from derringer-sized to ludicrously large, all to little avail as I recall. [Yes, I am ashamed to admit I watched this movie.]
Medical practice can say, for example, that as a result of their enlightened ministrations people live longer than ever. If a rest home packed with vegetating nonagenarians is proof of medical progress, tant pis. W.W. Jacob's excellent short story "The Monkey's Paw" makes a related point very memorably. There are Gog and Magog, and there is God. One can't frolic in both their sand boxes, nor can he hedge a bet with one from the standpoint of the other. There are no degrees of purity or virtue.