Turning To A New Page

It came to me vividly in the middle of the night that the previous entry was an embarrassing miscue. I was going to delete it and scurry off in shame, but decided to leave it as a stern and pointed rebuke to misplaced priorities. Had I been listening more closely to God I would not have written so carelessly and hastily on the wind.

Wisdom and duty now dictate that future entries become occasional, i.e., only when there is a compelling need to say something. I realize this change will greatly reduce or even eliminate readers, but increased attention to my duty to God, to my Leader, and to mankind is the thing that is most needful now and is an activity which should bless others as well.

Enchanted, But Let's Hope Not Enchante

Every child receives over the years an education of some kind. The few and fortunate are those who grow up steeped in Christian Science. Many get the traditional pedagogy of school and home, some dehumanizing tutelage in various Dickensian Dotheboys Halls (Wackford Squeers, Prop.), while still others are abandoned to the messy hurly-burly of OJT in the ways of all flesh. Only the schoolroom of pure Christianity will lead assuredly to a happy ending.

Plato writes in "The Republic" (Jowett translation): "Everything that deceives may be said to enchant." I wonder if some apathetic souls among us are not betimes a trifle jaded with animal magnetism and even aggressive mental suggestion, seeing them as persistently cranky and irritating, stoically resigned to their presence as members of their mental families, but not opposing vigorously, as they should, these errors and their vile offspring with all the strength of Spirit they possess. Bruno Bettelheim makes some interesting points in the Introduction to his book "The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales": "If we hope to live not just from moment to moment, but in true consciousness of our existence, then our greatest need and most difficult achievement is to find meaning in our lives. It is well known how many have lost the will to live, and have stopped trying, because such meaning has evaded them." And further: "To find deeper meaning, one must become able to transcend the narrow confines of a self-centered existence and believe that one will make a significant contribution to life--if not right now, then at some future time. This feeling is necessary if a person is to be saatisfied with himself and what he is doing." And: "Since the child at very moment of his life is exposed to the society in which he lives, he will certainly learn to cope with its conditions, provided his inner resources permit him to do so. [new para.] Just because his life is often bewildering to him, the child needs even more to be given the chance to understand himself in this complex world with which he must learn to cope."

Obviously Bettelheim is approaching the human experience from a wholly material standpoint, one which has nothing in common with Christian Science and sees the enchantment of fairy tales as an aid in personal development, but knowing this does not free one from the influence of this generally accepted view of man. Bettelheim's Freudian psychology may be passe these days, but its replacement is just as materialistic and must be rejected if one is to demonstrate Christian Science. False education is an incubus which cannot be flicked off casually from a mental lapel like a speck of dirt.

Mary Baker Eddy writes in "Science and Health" (p. 62): "The entire education of children should be such as to form habits of obedience to the moral and spiritual law, with which the child can meet and master the belief in so-called physical laws, a belief which breeds disease." Many adults would also benefit from a rigorous re-education along those lines. Those who missed the opportunity and blessing of a thorough Christian education are certainly not comdemned to an eternal limbo, but it is going to require some serious scrubbing of mental abodes and the application of liberal doses of strong spiritual disinfectant to put things right. The echantments of mortal mind may seem harmless at times, even, well, enchanting, but they are never so and must be rooted out mercilessly and destroyed like the noxious weeds they are.

Let Them Eat Cake

A four-page document titled "Alert", whose source was not identified but which is probably evident to many, was passed along to me. It bears the sad tidings that on September 10 Reading Rooms were notified that the "Complete Concordance to the Writings of Mary Baker Eddy" was no longer available in print and would not be reprinted. "Let them eat cake [Concord]" is their apparent--and it would seem cowardly delivered--message. The "Alert" mailing makes a very strong case for the inexcusableness of this action, as if a case needed to be made at all, though the Board is obviously deaf to concerns from a few hidebound fuddy-duddies.

The Concordance was a superhuman undertaking, a humblingly selfless labor of love by Albert Conant, for which no sincere Christian Scientist can be too grateful. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't you think the Church would do everything it took to keep this indispensable work available in print even for those who feel as if they are being stigmatized as quaint Neanderthals for still studying Christian Science in books? Perhaps some helpful reader can explain to me why the BOD can easily find $750,000,000 to sqaunder on the Monitor television boondoggle and another $50,000,000 give or take (as I recall) to blow on the more recent white elephant and ongoing financial sinkhole, yet can't lay their hands on the insignificant few thousands it would take to keep the "Complete Concordance to the Writings of Mary Baker Eddy" in print. I was always under the strong impression that sedulous, prayerful study and pondering of the writings of Mrs. Eddy was of more than passing importance in gaining an increased understanding of Christian Science and that if they never did anything else the Board would want to do all they could to make this possible, but it seems that when the intoxicating vista of a real estate empire beckoned, it was even harder than usual for Mrs. Eddy to get their enraptured attention from her place in the rumble seat.

"King Christ, this world is all aleak"--e.e. cummings

As part of a recent religion in America report on the evening news a reporter stopped a placid looking middle-aged man who had apparently just stepped out of the church where he had attended mass. He was thrown a sissy pitch and asked to name the first four books of the New Testament. Sad to say, instead of knocking that one confidently out of the park he whiffed--whiffed! From his reaction to the question, nonplussed silence, one might have thought he had been asked to state and prove on the spot Fermat's last theorem. Studies may show America to be one of the most "religious" nations on the planet, but "religious" seems to be a Brobdingnagian garment commodious enough to fit any wearer who chooses to mark X in the box which asks him if he is religious.


Unfortunately, many religions, churches, and assorted Elmer Gantrys lick their chops at the prospect of a flock of these obedient, unquestioning, and pliable sheep who seem to welcome with relief being led around by the nose (and don't mind paying for the privilege) by any Pooh-Bah with a rope an a will. For far too many it is a comfort to turn over the burdensome task of serious study, thought, and prayer to someone else, and there never seems to be a shortage of someone elses. It was to better than many among us to whom Christ Jesus spoke when he said, no doubt with a leaden heart: "Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners."


Once again I hope I am not alone in finding the final section of this week's lesson, "Doctrine of Atonement", distasteful and unsettling. To end the lesson with Jesus nailed to the cross could only appeal to those who would delight in hearing the chant, as the curtain drops, of the gloomily doleful "Stabat Mater dolorosa" as they kneel reverently before a crucifix, trembling in ecstasy like "St. Theresa in her wild lament". If that horrific closing tableau in this week's lesson doesn't give any Christian Scientist worthy of the name at least a twinge of the heebie-jeebies I don't know what would. "St. Paul said: 'For I am determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.' (I Cor ii 2) Christian Science says: I am determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him glorified." (S&H 200: 25-29)


If you think this is really nitpicking at the bottom of the barrel please fire at will, i.e., affix a gently reproving comment. If the sap is beginning to run a bit thin here I can always find something else to do with my time.

Note: In reference to the note posted a day later to the second entry before this one, I have rechecked and find that in the November 15-21 lesson John 5: 7 is not included, but the more objectionable John 5: 4 is.

The 200 in the previous entry is an acknowledgment that it was the 200th entry in this blog.

200

Lines at 200

a nosegay for those who have patiently waited


Old seems are unrelieved by discord's strain.
The fish are reft which nets fail to contain.
False threadbare tares await the Fisher's touch
That tuneless strings made whole may sing and clutch.
'Tis not enough to ply the prayerful seine.
Dear Christ must point the way and mind maintain
So nothing's lost that He has giv'n a place
And broken thoughts are healed by Love's pure grace.

A Dirty Thumb On The Bible Lesson Scales? --W/N

I cannot escape the nagging suspicion that something is at least a touch rotten in the Denmark of Bible lessons. I sense a nefarious tampering with the lessons over many years by hidden hands, sometimes conspicuous, at other times subtle, but still "darkness visible". No loyal Christian Scientist can deny the importance of the Bible lessons. Mrs. Eddy writes on page 31 of the Church Manual of "the Sunday lesson,--a lesson on which the prosperity of Christian Science largely depends."

Here are three specifics. One is in Section 4 of this past week's lesson, "Unreality", where Jesus spits on the eyes of the blind man (Mark 8: 22-25). Another is the similar instance where Jesus makes clay of the spittle and puts it on a blind man's eyes (John 9: 1-9), a healing which is used in the lesson of November 8-14, "Mortals and Immortals". The third is the healing at the pool of Bethesda (John 9: 1-7), which appears in the very next lesson, November 15-21, "Soul and Body". In my experience at least, these healings reoccur in lessons with what I believe to be suspicious and insidious regularity. In the current Quarterly all three are used in fewer than two months.

Well, so what? one may think. I would suggest that to give these healings unwarranted emphasis could suggest, misleadingly of course, that there is in Christian Science an openness to material aids in healing (i.e., medicine) or that there are other equally valid means of healing, as at the pool of Bethesda and that, ergo, Christian Science is just another gawky kid on the crowded healing block. Other questionable tamperings could also be cited.

Some will simply classify these assertions as the demented ravings of a paranoid kook, but once obvious misues of the Bible lesson have been perpetrated, e.g., Woman's Year shenanigans, how can a now compromised spring ever again be trusted to issue uncontaminated waters? If there is any truth to these assertions it makes it all the more important that one study the Bible lessons from the books in order to read the citations in their contexts and observe or fill in any puzzling omissions. Even if the above is hooey, though I'm confident it is not, it is also important that Scientists be studying on their own, beyond the Bible lessons, the Bible and writings of Mary Baker Eddy. How, by the way, does one study a pamphletized Bible lesson?

It has also been reported or rumored that in the fairly recent past some Bible lesson committee members were not even Christian Scientists. Pure baloney? Write the Board and ask them to assure you unequivocally that over the past 20-25 years--under their watch and their immediate predecessors' watch let's say--that every member of the Bible lesson committee has been a long-standing, well-seasoned, class-taught member of the Mother Church. That shouldn't be difficult to attest to if there are no skeletons in the closet. Don't hold your breath waiting for a reply.

Note: I noticed after this entry was posted that in the Bible Lesson-Sermon for 2 October 1898, "Are Sin, Disease, and Death Real?", that the healing at the pool of Bethesda (John 5: 1-9) was, coincidentally, one of two healings in that lesson, the other being the healing of the woman "diseased with an issue of blood" (Matt 9: 20-22) for those who might be curious. What is much more notable, however, about the 1898 use of that healing in John (referred to in the above entry) is that verses 4 and 7 are omitted, thus ignoring the healing powers believed by many to be present in the waters when they were troubled. The healing focuses entirely, therefore, on Christ Jesus' unambiguous spiritual healing of the man "which had an infirmity thirty and eight years." It would therefore seem logical that if spiritual healing were the sole focus of healing in the Bible lessons, and why wouldn't it be?, that verses 4 and 7 would be eliminated in this week's official lesson. As I said at the beginning of this entry, I have some nagging suspicions about the purity of current Bible lessons.

On Defense (And Dithyrambs)

I was brought up short once again by an article by Mortimer Carr (otherwise unknown to me) in the May 1946 Journal, "Protection and Defense". Perhaps I alone have too often let my mind drop into a rut when attempting to do my duty as required in Article VIII, Sect. 6, "Alertness to Duty", in the Church Manual. Mrs. Eddy there demands, in fact, that each member of the Mother Church "defend himself daily". It was easy for me to interpret this as donning, or at least clattering around vigorously with, an armor of truths daily. Somewhat to my chagrin--well, ok, a lot to my chagrin--Mr. Carr points out that would be protecting, not defending, myself.

He quotes "a dictionary" which states: "the inmates of a fortress are defended by its guns, protected by its walls, and guarded by sentries against surprise." Hosing ourselves down daily with a shower of the letter isn't defending ourselves daily against aggressive mental suggestion. I find the definition of defend in the Students Reference Dictionary (unfortunately no longer available, it seems, from The Bookmark or anywhere else) stronger than those in my desk dictionary. It (SRD) reads, in part, for defend: "To drive from; to thrust back; hence, to deny; to repel a demand, charge, or accusation; to oppose; to resist . . . . To drive back a foe or danger . . . . . To secure against attacks or evil; to fortify against danger or violence . . . . " One certainly doesn't do that with a feather duster of words or a sprinkling of politive thoughts.

Protection is defined, in part, from the SRD: "shelter from evil, preservation from loss, injury, or annoyance . . . How little are men disposed to acknowledge divine protection. That which protects or preserves from injury."

This article of the Church Manual is much too important to handle with butterfingered notions of what the word defend means, and Mrs. Eddy tells us that each by-law in the Church Manual obeyed and lived will contribute to our growth in grace and worthiness to be called genuine Christian Scientists.

Note: I am sorry if I keep giving the false impression that I do not want to write poems and post them here. To the reasons already given for my seeming unwillingness, I would add that when I sit down pen in hand to listen to the inspired whisperings of Euterpe or Polyhymnia I become instead a Quasimodo tormented not by "the bells, the bells", but those legions of cherished verses which come crowding in with their mellifluous elbows flying. It is too easy in such circumstances to end up with a poetic bricolage or pastiche, which I obviously do not desire. Then there is Shakespeare in all his overwhelming glory.

Finally, as to the cryptic, probably Chinese, "comments" I know not what, whence, or to where.

Culprits, Correction, and Coiffures

One culprit that can send the healing process into seemingly endless and unnecessary innings or overtimes is a misapprehension of what it is that needs healing. One cruelly puckish aggressive mental suggestion of mortal mind is the red herring that it should even be obvious to a dolt that it is matter that needs healing when the body is in revolt, whereas we learn in Christian Science that it should be plain to a Mortimer Snerd that there is no something in nothing (matter) eligible for healing despite a seemingly vivid, but vacuous, melee of affliction.

An eraser does not correct a botched computation. Computation and correction are mental processes, which may be expressed on a sheet of paper, but those visible numbers, correct or incorrect, are not realities. It is always wrong thinking that needs correcting, i.e., healing, not sensory evidence. An errantly directed pencil point (I know, nobody uses pencils any more, but work with me on this, as Ross Perot used to say) is innocent as a newborn babe, though the flawed human thought guiding it via the hand is not and needs to profit from the salutary effects of the operation of the Christ, Truth, in consciousness.

Corner cutters should not, moreover, delude themselves that a superficial mental combover, outre or otherwise, will "beat the devil", notwithstanding Mr. Trump's bravura coiffure.

Escaping Error's Euroclydon Experiences

Sometimes just remaining afloat on the turbulent ocean of material existence is a victory and cause for rejoicing, but eventually a vigorous effort will need to be made to get to the shore and the "Rock of Ages . . . Safe above life's raging sea." (Hymns 293-95) Some humble, receptive students of Christian Science may surf in on a wave hanging ten, if that's the correct term, with maddening ease while others may flounder and half drown for a time before being cast up like grateful Jonahs upon "Life's shore".

One way to speed up the journey to the beach is to begin thinking much more deeply and prayerfully about every word and sentence in Science and Health. Mary Baker Eddy's rich and precise vocabulary was not a prideful display of erudition. She knew the difficulty of expressing pure metaphysics and Science in human language and therefore chose her words with the inspired foresight and exactness necessary to permit the spiritual sense thereof to be revealed to the diligent and receptive student. A failure to properly discern these shades of meaning and let them lead one on in their "kindly Light" may leave him adrift on the frothy whitecaps of opaque or meaningless expressions and sentences.

Another potential maelstrom awaiting the striving Scientist is the sometimes brazen, sometimes subtle, "vanity sizing" of a number of important standards and requirements, one of which was mentioned in a recent entry, and it doesn't take a green eyeshaded accountant to ferret out others. To allow oneself to be happily deceived into a false sense of security about the requirements of obedience and way-marks of real progress is to risk being abandoned on the becalmed and dispiriting waters of that "Ancient Marriner" of whom Coleridge wrote. "Water, water, every where,/ Nor any drop to drink."

I cannot resist adding as a postscript those wonderful lines near the end of this great poem, which I have quoted before:
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

A Note That Burgeoned

As I scribbled on diligently with what started as, if not a baby, an adolescent note I thought of Woody Allen and the instant pudding, or instant whatever it was, in "Sleeper", though I resisted the temptation to subdue it with a broom. Feel free to pass on by, welcome visitor, if you are now chary of the prospect.

Some housekeeping matters. There have been a couple of recent requests--Supporter (Southwest) and Anonymous (I think)--for some personal healings. I feel it wise at present to keep this blog as impersonal as possible and not draw what would possibly be undesirable attention to me. I also do not wish to chance that anything in this blog would be post- or pre-validated or invalidated by some perception regarding or reaction to a healing. Additionally, I need to avoid any inadvertent disclosures which could jeopardize anonymity and loose from their kennels the salivating bloodhounds. Read instead the testimonies in the Sentinels and Journals of the 30's, 40's, and 50's. Some are staggering, humbling evidence of what God and even a limited understanding of Christian Science can do. This verbiage may seem a lot like an unconvincing song and dance response, but at present I feel it best to stick to my chosen last.

The use in a comment to a previous entry of the word "demonstration" for "healing" deserves a comment of its own. By a timely coincidence I recently read a first-rate article in the June 1945 Journal by Emma Easton Newman, CSD, "To Demonstrate 'This Living Vine'". She writes: "However, some of the testifiers [at Wednesday evening meetings], not yet versed in the true and spiritual meaning of demonstration, speak of physical improvement, or an increase in salary, or the obtaining of a house, or some other human objective, as a demonstration. . . . If we ask ourselves, Am I demonstrating the 'living Vine', the Christ? we shall use the word 'demonstration' less frequently, but more accurately. It is impossible to assert the nonexistence of matter and material projects and recognize that the mortal, the material, the carnal mind is a dream, utterly unreal, and then expct to demonstrate or prove anything in this dream. We demonstrate our at-one-ment with God through claiming and utilizing the Mind of Christ." Further on she continues: "He [the student of Christian Science] needs to be shown that his necessity is to demonstrate his oneness with the Father, to demonstrate divine Principle, Life, and Love, to demonstrate life in Christ. He sometimes thinks of the healing that is the fruitage of demonstration as being the demonstration itself, whereas the higher meaning of demonstration is the fuller realization of the Christ, Truth." My trusty Student's Reference Dictionary gives, in part, this definition of demonstrate: "To show and prove to be certain; to prove beyond the possibility of doubt". This exerpt from Mrs. Newman's excellent article, which needs to be read in full, does not do it justice.

I have hemmed and hawed before on requests for poetry. For me, poetry is not motivated by a desire or need to put an arrow in a bull's eye, i.e., to make a point. It comes more from spontaneous inspiration (though that might be a self-flattering word to use) and can eat up scads of valuable time. Additionally, I think I detect that many kind readers of this blog are not irresistibly drawn to the sunlight dappled glades and dells of poesy. This isn't a "No and don't bring up the subject again", but rather to say that as time and the sputtering fires of the muse permit, we'll see.

Finally, I noticed after my last entry that I was not alone with limpets, not Georgia, on my mind.

Adhering To Our Jealous Father-Mother God

To my (perhaps flawed) perception there has been a desire on the part of those nominally in charge of affairs at the MC to try to proffer Christian Science as an all-inclusive clubbable, to use Dr. Johnson's word, religion. Whether one feels an impulse to rush to the defense of, toss brickbats at, or simply let Islam be, Scientists shouldn't forget Paul's injunction: "Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing".

As Christians and Christian Scientists we have a duty to love all mankind, but a foolish or naive camaraderie with those who have not a particle of love or respect for Christian Science is to create an inviting opening for the hagfish Antichrist. Christian Science is not a choice melange of tidbits from other religions, nor is it just a poor relative among the family of faiths dwelling in the great monotheistic tent oaisised in the midst of the vast desert of human misery. We must love all men, yes, but we should not feel compelled to tuck them in with us cheek by jowl at night.

Unless firmly and constantly resisted, the steady pull of aggressive mental suggestion and animal magnetism can and will draw us to the event horizon of the black hole of the Antichrist, and without clear spiritual reference points to orient and guide us we can drift amiably toward it unawares. To achieve the necessary spiritual and metaphysical escape velocity from the illusion of error and mortal mind requires pure, steadfast, and unadulterated commitment to the Christ Truth, not to an ecumenical, hail-fellow-well-met bonhomie with other religions, no matter how compatible with or friendly toward Christian Science they may seem.

As Scientists clinging limpet-like to our heavenly Father-Mother God, should we not, like Hardy's darkling thrush, express our heartfelt adoration and inspiration "Upon the growing gloom" in joyful carolings of "Some blessed Hope, whereof [we know]/and [mankind is] unaware"? ("The Darkling Thrush")

Department Of Amplification (Q And A Desk)

Question. You keep repeating like jungle drums that some sinister influence is, and has been for years, slowly and surreptitiously insinuating itself into the Church and the consciences of many of its members, but what evidence do you offer that such an alarming activity is actually taking place?

Answer: I'm glad you asked. The most vicious argument many Christian Scientists are being subjected to--and in unguarded moments submitting to--is that Christian Science does not heal, or if it does it takes more time to reach a conclusion than "Lost" did and one that isn't any more satisfying. The inspired "Christian Science Standard of Healing", which originally appeared in the November 1957 Journal and oft reprinted, was given a sellout Ken and Barbie makeover in tweedledum and tweedledee versions, though tweedledum, or was it tweedledee, was hastily sent to detention for bad behavior, i.e., for still asking too much of what was already much too little. Those who found the original 1957 V-12 engine too souped-up and demanding for their limited metaphysical budgets got as a response to their complaints a sporty 4-cylinder put-put that promised all the power and performance of the 1957 model without its onerous "costs".

The apostate notion that Christian Science is just another mind/body healing system securely corseted in the bone stays of musty Victorian rules unfortunately seems to have gained footing. Christian Science is not some spinster wallflower at the mind/body healing cotillion, nor is it like the child's game of tiddlywinks, where only he who somehow gets the most prayer chips in the cup gets the healing, like a winner at the pool of Bethesda.

There has also been, I believe, a subtle and very harmful effort for years to wean Scientists away from their textbooks and encourage them to venture into an up-with-the-times Brave New World and its soma of contextless exerpts. Without limpet-like adherence to the Bible and writings of Mary Baker Eddy, Christian Scientists could allow Science to disappear for a time or lapse into obscurity.

Then there are the recently discussed attempts to relegate Mrs. Eddy, our Leader, and her superannuated Church Manual to the rumble seat of the Mother Church roadster, where they can ride along out of sight and out of mind. And kudos to the Gill book, which was a terrific opening kickoff in this ongoing enterprise.

Several other unfortunate "progressive" initiatives could be added, but space does not permit, and they have been highlighted in many previous entries.

Question. I'm tired of all that cat and mouse about who the villian is and what the clue is in that dopey poemlet. Is it Mr. Plum with the pipe wrench in the conservatory or who or what?

Answer. Remove the indentation of lines 2 and 4 and align them to the left with lines 1 and 3. I don't surrender easily--but neither does the Adversary alluded to.

"The only incentive of a mistaken sense . . . ."

"The only incentive of a mistaken sense is malicious animal magnetism,--the name of all evil,--and this must be understood." (My 357: 8-10) Incentive: "That which kindles or inflames; . . . That which moves the mind or operates on the passions; that which incites or has a tendency to incite to determination or action; that which prompts to good or ill; motive; spur." (SRD)

I apologize to those of you who have grown weary of the subject discussed, however briefly, in the past few entries, but I am more convinced than ever that Christian Scientists ignore it at their peril. However, one's weariness with the topic could be an indication of the secret and invisible influence of this malicious opiate. If you are a loyal, pure, sincere, and diligent student of Christian Science who is unreservedly loyal to Christ Jesus, Mary Baker Eddy, and the Church Manual this malignant evil wants you out of the way, as in, not to put too blunt a point on it, dead, or at least mentally dead. If one is not most watchful and wise he could very well find himself serving unconsciously an error which he would not dream of serving consciously. Color me barmy if you wish, but post a double watch just in case.

There is a sentence relevant to this ongoing monologue, with feedback of course, in Miscellany which is so short--and pungent--that it can easily be overlooked in a distracted blink of an eye. "That error is most forcible which is least distinct to conscience." (My 197: 2-4) Exerpts from the Student's Reference Dictionary (SRD) definitions of two words in that sentence show something of the depth and importance of that simple statement. Forcible: "Powerful; strong; mighty. Violent. Efficacious; active. . . . acting with force; impressive." Conscience: "Internal or self-knowledge, or judgment of right and wrong; or the faculty, power, or principle within us, which decides on the lawfulness or unlawfulness of our own actions and affections, and instantly approves or condemns them. . . . Conscience is called by some writers, the 'moral sense' . . . ." As I write this I have not had time to check if any commenters to the previous, and doubtless thoroughly intriguing, entry found my trifle there thought provoking. It has been said that every tub must stand on its own bottom, but if the corrosive effects of stealthy, insinuating aggressive mental suggestion has eaten it out one's present condition could be far dicier than he supposes.

Note: Have read comments to the previous entry. I appreciate the interest in the poemlet, but I think I overstated the clue's running through it. The little verse is really a stalking-horse of sorts for four carefully placed bread crumbs. Though as I said before, I may be in the minority feeling they lead to a credible threat, but don't be too quick to say it isn't.
A friend (Southwest) gave a pretty good summary of the source of this blog's title, which really goes back to the New Testament, of course. I would say the title has relevance individuals as well as to the movement as a whole.

A Poetic Bonbon For Tolerant Sleuths

Like a dog with a favorite bone, I would like to gnaw a bit longer on the primary subject of the last two entries. I alluded long ago to what I perceive to be the chief perpetrator of malicious mental attacks against the Christian Science Church and Christian Scientists. I have whipped up a hasty, and probably tasteless, confection in which lies an unambiguous clue to the source I sense of the evil. Of course, I could be as misdirected as Wrong-Way Corrigan (I hope I am not going to get thrown for a big loss on the name.), but I have sound reasons, sound to me at any rate, for my convictions. If I am correct or on a valid scent it is not a threat to be, or to have been, frivolously dismissed. Why not just come out with it and quit playing games? Every playful and silly dog must have his romp I guess, or perhaps to give the fortunate readers of this entry the thrill of a chase or a chance to wrestle with, or at least kick around, their own suspicions, assuming they have any--or care at all about this Sherlockian enterprise.

A lidless stare, the serpent does not blink.
Mit schlag of Christly seemingness, it lies.
Do servants watch and scour each hidden chink?
Get wise to secret snares and crush these spies.

Scotching Satan's Serpentine Seductions

Mrs. Eddy tells us that the nothingness of nothing is plain, but nowhere that I recall does she say, or even imply, that the subtlety of subtlety is plain. Would that it were. It is the nature of the beast, animal magnetism, to anesthetize consciousness, in somewhat the pernicious way carbon monoxide acts--silent, odorless, and unseen. Thus the necessity that our watch be wakeful, spiritually active, and imbued with a keen sensitivity to anything that is unlike God, which of course means we had better be well acquainted with Him. Other things than gentle lambs come in lamb's clothing.


If the old westerns are to be believed, one of the tricks employed by Indians attacking a circled wagon train was to hang off the side of their horses on the side away from the beleaguered defenders so that only a horse was visible to them. The Indians would then shoot either under the neck or over the back. (That paleface's speaking with forked tongue--or worse, much worse--invited retaliation, is beside the point here.) A horse is all mortal mind, animal magnetism, wants us to see.

Mrs. Eddy sounded the tocsin repeatedly in her writings on the dangers of a flaccid sentinel. In addition to the quote in the previous entry there is the well-known citation on page 442 of Science and Health, lines 30-32, and page 114 of Miscellaneous Writings, lines 21-26. It should also be remembered that a sentry or porter is posted at the front door, not the bedroom door or closet door. The discovery of an intruding evil in the act of ransacking our mental drawers or snuggling up with us in bed is not the ideal time or place to deal with it, though we grow from those kinds of experiences too.

After my last posting I thought about Mrs Eddy's unexpected, to me, choice of the word "criminal" in the quote from Science and Health used. The Student's Reference Dictionary has, in part, this definition of criminal (noun): "a violator of law, divine or human." And, in part, from criminal (adjective): "That violates moral obligation; wicked." Our in-baskets need to be constantly subjected to diligent scrutiny, else we too might be wondering like King George III how the devil that apple got in our dumpling.

Note: "'Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock Turtle replied, 'and the different branches of Arithmetic--Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'" (Lewis Carroll, from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)

"Let no man deceive you by any means"

Beware the Jabberwok, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
(Lewis Carroll)

The danger is more immediate , more malicious, more persistent, and more subtle than many of us suspect. Our unleashed minds relax and wander aimlessly through gardens of earthly delights, heedless of the vipers lurking patient and unseen, ready to strike. The skulking mental assassin, the shameless stooge, the self-righteous and unprincipled toady, the selfish, cutthroat opportunist--those who wittingly and unwittingly serve the Prince of Darkness in the name of God--they all lie waiting in ambush for the unwary, faithful, and dedicated Christian Scientist. It is probably no accident that I am currently reading Shakespeare's "Richard III", who is the very model of the smooth-tongued villain.

Rushing in where an angel would fear to tread, I have made missteps, which I have tried to acknowledge. The poet Theodore Roethke has a lovely line, which I hope I quote correctly: "I learn by going where I have to go." One is not obligated to chain himself sine die to past indiscretions and excesses. To the contrary.

It was not mere coincidence that I turned this week to the Bible Lesson of 20 November 1898, then called "Ancient and Modern Necromancy; or, Mesmerism and Hypnotism". It is a powerful lesson, taking for its Golden Text and Responsive Reading (and I the title of this entry) II Thessalonians 2: 1-13. It was as if God had laid a necessary feast before me saying "Read and Heed!"

Two malignant influences are, I feel, at the bottom of what is going on sub rosa. One is a disgusting, disloyal attempt which has been going on for many years until it now pervades the entire Church and its branches, all of it cynically masked by a thick fog of sophistry, to discredit and demean Mary Baker Eddy and question, downplay, and erode her place as Leader, now and always.

The other pernicious influence, also long-standing and pervasive, I will leave nameless, like the yet undiscovered melody which Elgar said runs through his "Enigma Variations". I have alluded to it almost from the outset of this blog. The name 666 will do for the nonce. At the risk of being accused of effrontery I humbly admonish all loyal Christian Scientists not to ignore either of these issues. "So secret are the present methods of animal magnetism that they ensnare the age into indolence, and produce the very apathy on the subject which the criminal desires." (S&H 102: 20-23)

Finally, a more personal issue. Accusations of vituperation and logomachy, just and unjust, come with the territory, but the snarky and mean-spirited characterization of kind comments made on this blog as fawning adulation is crass and uncalled-for. In the Bond movie "For Your Eyes Only", I think, the faux-contessa says "Me nightie's slipping." Something has slipped somewhere else as well, but what has been revealed this time isn't pulchritude, but smacks of the venomous spume of jealousy and resentment. I have never in any of my 185+ entries angled for flattering comments or for comments of any kind, nor have I ever suggested my example was a brightly-shining star to which lesser mortals should be eternally grateful to hitch their humble wagons. I appreciate all sincere, kind comments as well as sincere but less kind ones. I have profited from both. Only an unchristian churl would find something to sneer at in that.

Beguiled

Serpent. Yo toots! I saw you taking a gander at the fruit on this handsome tree. Words can't describe how good and the sweet the fruit is. You need to taste it for yourself.
Eve. He said we weren't even supposed to touch it, but it's sure yummy to look at. I'll give you that.
S. Why would He put it there if you weren't meant to nosh on it? He may have gotten bored and wanted to test your reaction to my complimentary schmoozing and chipper talking up.
E. Yes, and maybe there is good and then there is GOOD, and just maybe that fruit is only a tempting knockoff sort of good, something to appeal to "channels of sense, intellect, and aspirations". [Dummelow via time warp]
S. Sweetie, the fruit on this tree has more delights than a Swiss army knife. Talk about good! You can whip up a fruit salad from this tree that would be the envy of a platoon of North Korean generals. Look at some of these endorsements: "Lip smackin' good", "So sweet and good you'll think you're on a date with Elvis", "More gorgeous than Gorgeous George", and "Grrrreat!" (from Tony the Tiger no less).
E. Well, I can't deny I get a goose-bumpy tingle when I look at that tree, and every coruscating fruit has, I see, a little seal of approval from someone (in microscopic print). Still, He said don't think about touching it.
S. Pshaw! Quit being such a dweeb. With an attitude like that you'll never get invited to a wingding or chosen to be a Bachelorette. Maybe the Lord God only said "Hands Off" until He could open a Walmart and you and that palooka over there could rustle up some duds to cover up the petty annoyance of guilt and shame.
E. Guilt? Shame?
S. Bon appetit!

Getting The Lead, And The Apple, Out

The independently owned and operated Tophets we endure from time to time, or even more or less constantly, are there by invitation only, invitations hurried along, no doubt, by fear or befuddled wonderment at mortal mind's many kaleidoscopic spectacles and seamy sideshows.

There are probably times when we wonder, like King George III of England when confronted with an apple dumpling, "how, how the devil got the apple in?" [His fluency in English was never a strong suit.] ("Historic Side-Lights", Howard Payson Arnold) If the porters at the door of our consciousnesses are snoozing instead of watching we are going to be admitting a sinister gallimaufry of undeveloped negatives (in more senses than one). Once past the dozing porters they go to our mental dark rooms, where they are developed (again, possibly in more senses than one) and then "voila" [sorry about the missing accent grave, LowlyWise] or, more precisely, "quelle horreur!" Some are even sent to the enlarger, and the Gulliver's disgust at the sight of the Brobdingnagians is small beer compared to those enlarged and unwelcome horrors. By then, however, mortal mind has run up its Jolly Roger and we bitterly rue our failure to post a diligent watch.

The rudely awakened or startled student of Christian Science may be tempted at such a juncture to "floor it", to flee in a squeel of smoking tires from the pestilential Blackbeard (I know, he was a pirate, not a NASCAR driver.) , after the manner of the person Stephen Leacock describes who "flung himself upon his horse and rode madly off in all directions", but sedulous, consecrated, and patient study and prayer are needed, not a frantic Nathan's Famous gorging to make up for lost time. Better to post a dedicated doorman and then add a solid plank a day to our bridge from matter to Spirit than be forced to attempt a leap in unsure, unseemly, and Skivvied hasted over the frightful chasm we ourselves have occasioned.

"Simplify, simplify."

"Our life is frittered away by detail. . . . Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumbnail. . . . Simplify, simplify." (Henry David Thoreau, from Walden)

Advice more relevant today than when he wrote it over 150 years ago. No reader would be poorer for the investment of time required to read Thoreau's major works. He is a magnificent and highly idiosyncratic thinker and writer, probably the finest America has produced.

To return to my last from that brief obiter dictum, I will once again let another have the floor. (This approach to blogging could get to be a habit.) I was much impressed by an article in the Salvation Army's April 10 "War Cry", "Divine Interruption" by Whitney Von Lake Hopler. I don't have the space, or permission, to reprint the entire, fairly short, article, but here are the six simple points, plus one brief exerpt, she made.
1. Make yourself available for God's assignments.
2. Take time to actively listen for God's voice.
3. Focus on God's plans rather than your own.
4. Keep eternity in view. . . . Remember that not all urgent activities are important ones.
5. Pray for the grace to respond to people's needs with compassion instead of irritation.
6. Don't let fear stop you.

"The War Cry" is published biweekly and is well worth $10 (yes $10) for one year, $19 for two years, or a whopping $28 for three years. If you are interested in subscribing call 1-800-SAL-ARMY. I don't think any Christian would find it money ill spent.

Sticking To Our Guns

There is something appealing, to a certain turn of mind at any rate, about the Stetsoned, two six-shootered gunslinger, squinting gimlet-eyed before him, face bronzed by years in scorching desert suns and chiseled by searing heat and wind-driven sand. Maybe the stump of an old cheroot clinched defiantly in his teeth. Ever alert and ready to take on any foe or confront any danger.

All Scientists would do well to pack the two six-shooters of the Truth: the Bible and Science and Health. It is essential that Christian Scientists be ever alert to error and quick on the draw with these two powerful sources of inspiration and spiritual strength. The distaff reader may not find the initial picture appealing, with or without the cheroot, and this fanciful image is not meant to suggest that the gentler sex should become metaphysical Ma Barkers. Maybe Annie Oakleys. But we all need those two powerful sources of Truth, Life, and Love and must know how to use them instantly through a familiarity gained only by constant, daily "practice" therewith and humble, contrite prayer for increased understanding of God and His creation. It is the only way out of mortal mind and on and up to greater conscious unity with God.

Greenhorn bravado and temerity will not long suffice for him (or her) armed only with the single six-shooter of daily exerpts from our textbooks. Such as they will ultimately discover there is as much fire power in one of those phony scripted smooches on "The Bachelorette" as in a foolish reliance on anything but the books, both whole books, and nothing but the books. We are told by Christ Jesus that we must know the Scriptures and by Mary Baker Eddy that we must study and ponder both. I know no way to follow these commands without constantly belting them on our hips, so to speak, i.e., keeping them always at our fingertips. And using them faithfully each day.

Note: To Thanks Much, I think G&S and Big-endian were explained. I would add that the egg argument was over which end of the egg to eat from. It was meant to poke fun--and probably more. The Big-endians were Catholics and Little-endians Protestants, so I am told.

This and That

CS Practitioner was wondering if Mrs. Eddy would use the internet. I think the responses from Helen and EJ were pretty much like mine. It is probably not likely that she wouldn't, but her refined spiritual sense of things might well see dangers invisible to me. I think one can safely assert, however, that she would not produce a reported vapidity like spirituality.com, if it still labors gamely on.

The question leapfrogged two immensely important 20th Century media: radio and television. Who knows what use, if any, she would have made of them. Mary Baker Eddy is firmly and irrevocably rooted in the world of print, which has a permanence and solidity none of the others does--at least for me. I also think it is safe of say she would not have been a blogger. Where would she get the time? E-mails? Hmm. Facebook, Twitter, texting? I can't see it, but who knows, she might have become a maven of cyberspace.

As some readers may already know, Ann Beals of The Bookmark has sent out an urgent plea for donations. For many, especially officials in Boston, she is about as popular as the idea of women in the priesthood is to the Pope. One may differ strongly with some of her metaphysics, but I for one would be loath to be without the wonderful writings she offers from the pens of Greenwood, Tutt, Wilcox, Simon, Seeley, et al., the Student's Dictionary, those splendid Bible Lessons from 1898-1910, etc. Most of the items she offers, whether regarded as a sheep or goat, are available nowhere else to my knowledge. I'm aware that for many The Bookmark is a very thorny issue, but I would rather feed on some honey-dew from Ms. Beals' Xanadu than choke down a desiccated and unappetizing snack from the CSPS vending machine. If one doesn't feel he can, or wish, to contribute he can perhaps consider getting anything of interest to him (or her) while the opportunity lasts. It might also help alleviate the financial need as well.

Finally, the lovely closing lines to "Leaves of Grass" by the great American poet Walt Whitman. That most sensuous and materialistic of troubadours is speaking of himself, but I find the lines more touching if I think of them as coming from my heavenly Father-Mother God.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Faith-Cure: All Hat And No Cattle

It was reliably reported a number of years ago that a certain oh-so cutting edge--and fatuous--commissar of the Mother Church stated that Christian Science healing is just one of many, presumably equally valid, healing systems. This fetid pronouncement bubbled up like swamp gas from the miasma of those dark years from which the Church has yet to emerge, years when the Board was giddily infatuated with the mind/body goings-on at the Harvard Medical School and had enraptured visions, apparently, of being BMOC in that tangled scrum. It doesn't take a vivid imagination to envisage the dank metaphysical backwaters that lie along that muzzy metaphysical bayou. One scary creature lurking in those black lagoons is personality with a "big, big P", as G&S might put it.

I recently encountered a fine article by Helen Wood Bauman in the March 1941 Journal, "Faith As A Factor In Healing", in which she cautions Scientists to be alert to the very important distinction between Christian Science healing and faith healing. Ms. Bauman gives a good summary of the dangers and limitations of faith healing, as does Mary Baker Eddy in "Retrospection and Introspection", "Faith-Cure" (pp. 54-55). The difference is, in the words of Mark Twain [I thought, but am unable to verify], as great as the difference between the lightning bug and lightning.

Any seasoned and sincere Scientist should know the difference and unceremoniously reject any flavor of faith healing. It is the tyro in Christian Science who is most in danger and who might mistake the slather of comforting words and "tea and sympathy" for the genuine article. Indulged in, faith healing will of necessity have a stultifying effect on the metaphysical progress of any student or patient, as well as that of the wayward mental physician. It is perhaps possible that I have conjured up once again a grin without a cat, though Mrs.. Eddy and Ms. Bauman obviously saw more than an insignificant grin. The hasty and unwise elevation of some Ethelreds the Unready may have put at risk naive or unwary students of Christian Science. Toadyism, a faithless willingness to give C.S. treatment for those who continue to receive medical care, and unquestioning adherence to the Big-endianism of the day should not be the litmus tests for one's fitness for the practice or, a fortiori, for teaching.

Coming On Like Gangbusters

I have said as much before and still strongly believe that error, animal magnetism, mortal mind, evil--pick the label you prefer--needs to be oppoosed and denied far more energetically and imperatively than many of us seem to. "Press on, press on, ye sons of light,/Untiring in your holy fight,/Still treading each temptation down,/And battling for a brighter crown." (Hymn #290) Christ Jesus saw clearly the need for Satan's eradication and assured his followers that each of them can utilize the talent or talents he has been given. "Behold, I give you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy". (Luke 10: 19) A good pair of metaphysical hobnail boots will be necessary. This isn't delicate tweezer work, like building a ship in a bottle.

Mary Baker Eddy implied that we live in "a world of sin and sensuality hastening to a greater development of power" (S&H 82: 31-32), and she wrote that over a century ago. Many of us might make greater progress if, instead of tepid, timorous, or torpid opposition to mortal mind, we followed Richard Sherman's (Tom Ewell) advice in "The Seven Year Itch" and came on like gangbusters, not, of course, with Rachmaninoff's "Second Piano Concerto", but with a greater and more vigorous understanding and demonstration of Christian Science. A failure to energetically crush out each temptation as it is encountered may leave the woolgathering treader-down with a discouragingly long--and growing longer--work order. Mrs. Eddy threw down the gauntlet emphatically to her loyal followers on a July 4 a century or so ago (Mis 176-177). How many of them (us?) are still dithering over picking it up and getting on with the challenge she was in fact requiring of them and us.

What worked so well for the Montgolfier brothers over the streets of Paris way back when will not suffice today--not that it ever really did. Satan and his progeny stoke the fires of hell with unrealized good intentions and self-satisfying pronouncements masquerading as heartfelt prayers. "Do not go gentle into that good night,/. . . Rage, rage against the dying of the light." (from "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas)

Note: Ignes fatui is simply the plural of ignis fatuus, will-o'-the-wisp, something that misleads or deludes; an illusion.

Ignes Fatui Wisely Dispelled

When one realizes a piece of furniture in his mental home is ugly, uncomfortable, and tormenting it is time to remove it, not simply relegate it to the attic or give it a cursory, faute de mieux reupholstering. "If disease moves, mind, not matter, moves it; therefore be sure that you move it off." (S&H 419: 14-15) Not even a grin without the cat should be allowed to remain.

Trying to cope foolishly with some mesmeric claim rather than peremptorily destroying or unlearning it is to play Br'er Rabbit to a mortal mind tar baby. Pope's observation on vice in his "Essay on Man" can just about as easily apply to any false belief or attraction.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

Such an embrace may sell itself as a kind of moral squeeze play, but a bunt is never going to get the ball out of the park, and the truth that just might get across home plate if the play works won't compensate for the offending error's remaining ensconced. There is also the possibility of a discouraging double play if the bunt is whiffed or popped up. One may know intellectually that prayer isn't simply a General McClellan-like marshalling of spiritual ideas, but really "getting it" is the ineluctable understanding and demonstration of Truth and learning that what is seen as vale was never in fact ave.

Note: If the above baseball metaphor leaves too many runners stranded on base (about five too many by my count), I hope at least the gist of the effort is clear. It's too late for another at-bat.

"My mother is a fish."--Vardaman

That well-known and startling statement is a complete "chapter" in William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying. It may only be a choice bit of Faulkner's gothic rhetoric, but it can be used to make a useful point, I think. If a child, like Vardaman, made such a perverted statement and one set out to correct it in Christian Science, he certainly wouldn't pray for a correct concept of a fish. To establish in Vardaman's thought the proper sense of a human mother wouldn't permanently or Scientifically correct anything either.

The root of the animal magnetism, aggressive mental suggestion, claim, or temptation harrying one may lie much deeper than the tears and pain occasioned. "That which is least distinct to thought is most forcible." (My 197: 2-4) How many of us have a cherished or feared glass menagerie we keep enshrined on a shelf deep within the shadows of our false beliefs? For many (most?) of us only strict obedience to God and His laws and the absolute purity of thought the furnace of affliction brings will allow Science to get to all of it and destroy it. Mrs. Eddy tells us, though, that the warfare with oneself is grand and gives idle minds, and even busy ones, plenty to do. We certainly don't think our loving Father-Mother God is a fish--at least I hope not--but are there not too many times when our disobedient and apathetic "three-day" thoughts of Him begin to smell? As we break the bonds of mortal mind and its enslaving beliefs we might do well to sing in our dissolving chains "like the sea", though time should never be permitted to hold us "green and dying" as we do so. (See "Fern Hill" by Dylan Thomas)

Note: I'm sorry if I appeared to take the commenter on brevity "to task". My comment was merely an explanatory comment thereon.

Bronco Busting

A familiar OT dialogue is here presented in an admittedly amateurish alteration and drastic reduction.
Eliphaz. Yo, Job, you've worked yourself into a lather up there and struck some mighty fine poses that would be the envy of Walter Mitty, but don't you think it's about time you took the saddle off the top rail of the fence and actually put it on one of those broncos in the corral?
Job. Festina lente, amigo. I have a collector's set of bruises already, and my Stetson doesn't need any more creases either.
E. That herd of wild horses isn't getting any smaller, and sooner or later you're going to have to put the saddle on one and all, tighten the cinch, and ride 'em cowboy!
J. I get saddle sores just thinking about it, and what's the hurry anyway?
E. Well, you have only a succession of todays to get the job done. No mananas [Tilde over the first "n". Sorry to cop-out, LowlyWise]. No one else is going to break them for you, and one horse broken will make the next easier. Each subdued bronco will become, to shift metaphors, a staff upon which you can lean in the future, as Mrs. Eddy might say. There are no rewards for saddle time on the fence, no matter how stylish a figure you cut up there.
J. And what if I get thrown? That ground is hard, and I hate to smudge my designer denims.
E. You are probably going to get thrown dozens of times. Just dust yourself off, put your hat back on, and have at it again and again until the job is done. You can always wash your precious jeans, but the false beliefs of mortal mind need to be busted, completely broken, and a failure to do this can't be washed away in your Maytag.
J. Maybe I'd rather have a little more suffering on the fence rather than a passel of it trying to break that wild lot of horses.
E. Well, as that tv commercial said: "You can pay me now, or you can pay me later." Keep in mind, though, that the delayed payment is much more expensive, i.e., entails much more suffering. Every lie of any reality of life in matter and material existence needs to be completely broken. Remember, "The work to be performed is ours,/[but, thankfully] The strength is all his own." (Hymn #354)

"who did hinder you . . . ?"

A lump of coal in the sock of supplication instead of a spiritual blessing? A rivulet of sincere and hope-filled prayers which peters out ineffectually on mortal mind's dry alluvial plain? If so, it is easy to become discouraged, or at least begin puttering about dispiritedly, while letting aggressive mental suggestions, instead of God, sit in the catbird seat.

I have wondered more than once, regrettably not to my bitter enough chagrin, why I have even once thought I could scale the heights of heaven with less time spent in prayer than Christ Jesus or Mary Baker Eddy. When error's skirmish line of adversity is advancing on one's lethargically defended position is not the time to chase one's tail in a tizzy, wondering how to get the pin out of his Scientific grenade. If we are always as obedient to God as we know how, we are increasingly semper fidelis and semper paratus--and thus under His loving protection.

Prayer, watching, and working are always, Mrs. Eddy tells us, required for growth in grace, and the onset of error's flood tide is not the time to dust off the life-boat kit and begin reading the instructions for assembly. Christ Jesus and Mrs. Eddy are both very clear on the necessity for and how of spiritual progress. The Bible and writings of Mrs. Eddy will not keep the false claims of mortal mind at bay if they are only used as impromptu scotches at the bottom of our mental doors.

Notes: Phoenix AZ wondered if I meant "grisly", not "gristly", in a recent entry. I meant gristly, implying that most of us beware of evil's worst excesses and gristly temptations, but may still find some pleasant, and tempting, vistas in the devil's south forty.
Thank you to LowlyWise for comments on the Pierian springs and for offering some other relevant lines from Pope's Essay on Criticism.
A reader commented on the shortness of some entries. I do the best I can with the time available. Even two paragraphs can take three or so hours to wrestle into some kind of presentability. Most of us are not born writers, and the scope of this little enterprise is also necessarily limited. Yes, Samuel Johnson filled up his "Rambler" [the italics has gone on holiday again] every week, but I am certainly no Dr. Johnson, and he at least gave himself unlimited elbow room to discuss any topic which struck his fancy. I would rather have 25 readers spend one engaging minute here than one reader spend 25 soporific minutes on a dull screed. I try in my way to make this as, some wag suggested, like a woman's skirt: short enough to be interesting, but long enough to cover the subject (however scantily).

"purest, heartiest tenderness"

"I never see that man [Lincoln] without feeling that he is one to become personally attached to, for his combination of purest, heartiest tenderness, and native western form of manliness." (Walt Whitman, from Specimen Days)

Most of us have probably known, observed, or heard of a seemingly dedicated Church member or practitioner who grimly--and anomalously--adhered to a stern and dour "expression" of Christ Jesus' and Mary Baker Eddy's radiant examples and teachings. Practitioners thus inclined carelessly endow their patients with mental hair shirts along with their treatments. They are like a doctor who applies balm with a rasp. To which I would add, what loyal Christian Scientist is not a practitioner? One would search as vainly for the healing and sustaining Christ in a life or practice devoid of or penurious in compassion and tenderness as for Sasquatch in the forests of the Pacific Northwest.

Those reaching out for healing and help in Christian Science certainly do not expect to be gobsmacked with coldly or even dryly administered Scientific statements. Finding tenderness in a Christian Scientist should not be as vexing as finding Waldo. It should be under foot on every Christian Scientist's doorstep. Remember Mrs. Eddy's encouraging and uplifting words in "Christ My Refuge": "And o'er earth's troubled, angry sea/I see Christ walk,/And come to me, and tenderly,/Divinely talk." And: "Tenderness accompanies all the might imparted by Spirit." (S&H 514: 18-19)

It should also be self-evident that tenderness and compassion are not qualities which can be engrafted artificially, slapdash, or cynically on the stunted and malignant stock of a Christless disposition.

Deep Draughts From God's Pierian Spring

In one's pleasant and optimistic moments he may see himself on wings of pure "Thought [that] soars enraptured, fetterless and free" (Hymn #64), but as Shakespeare wrote in "King Henry IV, Part II" it may only be but a wish that was father to such a thought. Mrs. Eddy tells us that there is only "the infinite, perfect, and eternal All." (S&H 280: 3) That would seem to be an impossible fact and truth to get around or muck up, but Paul knew animal magnetism has its devious ways: "I mean this: if you are guided by the Spirit you will not fulfil the desires of your lower nature. That nature sets its desires against the Spirit, while the Spirit fights against it. They are in conflict with one another so that what you will to do you cannot do." (Galatians 5: 16-17 NEB) Though many of his gristly entrees may get firm "non"s, Satan's tempting desert tray may still get enthusiastic "ooh la la, mais oui"s.

Mrs. Eddy's oft-quoted statement in Science and Health that "The time for thinkers has come." may be one of those many statements which are more honored in the breach than in the observance, yet a failure to think deeply, prayerfully, and patiently about the thousands of inspired truths with which the Bible and writings of Mary Baker Eddy are liberally garlanded could well be the cause of many students' piffling progress in Christian Science. Woolgathering is not the same thing as bringing in the sheaves. It may well be necessary for more of us to be like the hedgehog and know one big thing [at a time] rather than to be like the fox and know many things [imperfectly]. (Archilochus)

"O Fudge!" Just Won't Do It

"Do not go gentle into that good night" wrote the great Welsh poet Dylan Thomas. Nor must loyal Christian Scientists permit their beloved Church to go gentle into that good night of vapidity. Genuine Christian Scientists are not nappied wusses or epicene carpet knights for Christ. "Love is not something put upon a shelf, to be taken down on rare occasions with sugar-tongs and laid on a rose leaf. I make strong demands on love, call for active witnesses to prove it, and noble sacrifices and grand achievements as its results." (Mis 250: 16-18)

I was browsing recently in the bound volume of the '34/'35 Journals and noticed with amazement that there were then, for example, about 600 practitioners listed there for the City of Chicago and 132 for Portland, Oregon. Compare those robust numbers with the lilliputian representation today. What a joy 'twould be if more of us could demonstrate that it isn't so that the old gray mare ain't what she used to be.

Notes: Naturally I am sorry Anonymous felt the title of the previous entry (a quote) unjustifiably coarse, but I am certainly not Mrs. Eddy, and this is 2010 not 1910. When it comes to understanding and demonstration my puny demitasse spoon shrinks abashed before her capacious shovel. It would be more peaceful if we all could shut ourselves away from the world in pollyannish Whovilles, but didn't Christ Jesus say he came not to send peace but a sword? "When error confronts you, withhold not the rebuke or the explanation which destroys error." (S&H 452: 12-14) Mortal mind certainly isn't going to vamoose at the application of a few gentle swipes with a dainty metaphysical feather duster.

Thank you to LowlyWise for the arcane (to me) procedure required to get an acute accent, and, I assume, grave accent, tilde, umlaut, cedilla, caret, etc. I fear that with my limited computer skills I would make a hash of it and I would end up with a verbal Frankenstein's monster.

"I say it's spinach, and I say to hell with it!"

For some there may be nothing like a really vexing crisis to provide the get-up-and-go necessary to pump up their demonstration of Christian Science. Wasn't one of the last lines in "Casablanca" Claude Rains issuing the order to "Round up the usual suspects"? It may be that one reason some of us are more than a tad delinquent in our spiritual progress is that with every attack of adversity we return like swallows to our secure, personal San Juan Capistranos--to the same few pages in "Christian Science Practice" or our well-thumbed chrestomathy of familiar and comforting statements. If such a method works, who am I to gainsay it, but I suspect some afflictive fires re-ignite again and again because they are only dampened for the nonce with habitual squirts of metaphysics. There is always, probably, a need in our famished affections for more freshness, decisiveness, and spontaneity in prayer and metaphysical work. "Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,--/As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas." (Dryden)

Too often we may only parry sportively with the error at hand rather than give it an inspired, decisive, and spontaneous "Touche!", as in the famous New Yorker cartoon. Habit can stultify and undermine progress. To return to Captain MacWhirr in Conrad's short novel "Typhoon": "This man, disturbed by a storm, hung on to a matchbox absurdly, as though it hand been a symbol of all those habits that make manifest the reality of life." Our practice of Christian Science should never become stale, routine, and uninspired. "Mortal mind presents phases of character which need close attention and examination. The human heart, like a feather bed, needs often to be stirred, sometimes roughly, and given a variety of turns, else it grows hard and uncomfortable whereon to repose." (Mis 127-128) To do this is, so to speak, to clean up our spiritual act anew and become more vibrant, inspired, and spontaneous in our daily practice of Christian Science.

Where aggressive mental suggestion is concerned we should daily strive to break out of any habits which hobble progress and be more like the young lady in another famous New Yorker cartoon who, looking disgustedly at her dinner plate, made the statement which is the title of this entry.

Note: The other New Yorker cartoon referred to above shows two fencers with foils, one of whom has just decapitated his opponent as he shouts "Touche!" [I know I need an acute accent over the "e", but do not have one.]

Doffing Our Swaddling Clothes

In the Friday, June 4, Wall Street Journal one of their regular Friday contributers, Eric Felten, wrote a droll piece on the tasteless landscape of lite beers in his "De Gustibus" column. Perhaps I should hasten to add that I nearly always read his well-written and usually humorous essays. I had no desire to bone up on the relative merits of lite beers, or any other potables for that matter. If I am not mistaken he also wrote a diverting weekly WSJ column on how to live more frugally and save money on every-day purchases, but that series seems to have, regrettably, ended.

In order not to appear snobbish, he decided to taste-test as many of these lite beers as he could lay his hands on. "Taking notes in my blind tasting I quickly found myself running out of ways to describe vapid nothingness." He concludes that all that keeps these brews moving is massive amounts of advertising money. "No wonder these beers are so heavily advertised. No one would think to drink them otherwise." "Is this going somewhere, except maybe to the fridge?" restless readers may be nervously thinking. I hope so.

Mrs. Eddy tells us that the nothingness of nothing, mortal mind, is plain, but that this nothingness needs to be understood, not just stated. Yet how many of us keep coming back--maybe even eagerly--for another quaff of its not-so-lite suds? Mortal mind doesn't run ads extolling the wonders of its "vapid nothingness"--or does it? Anything that promotes the pleasures and satisfactions of any phase of material existence is at bottom a promo for the supremacy of mortal mind. The tyranny of medical practice and medicine is a not very subtle come-on for mortal mind. Then there is the great negative barker for error: fear, all the way from annoying fearlets to paralyzing terror. If it were not for these deceptive or dragooning incentives to indulge in and cherish materiality, who in his right mind would dabble for a moment in the nothingness of nothing?

It is time for more Christian Scientists--and I confess to making an assumption that might not be correct--to put off their mental swaddling clothes and suit up for a decisive battle with the Great Red Dragon. Time will not make it any easier to deal with. So, To Whom It May Concern: Quit listening to error's "bunkum" (one of Mr. Felton's words) and claim your eternal, harmonious unity with God, divine Mind, Life, Truth, and Love--no matter what that commitment requires of you.

Man Is Always "Safe above life's raging sea"

An injudicious flagging in the vigorous pursuit of growth in grace can result in experiencing the "foam and fury" of "earth's troubled, angry sea". It may be little comfort to the storm-tossed mariner that Christ walks serenely over the waves while he must struggle manfully against them until their unreality and the peace and calm of God's omnipresence and omnipotence are finally glimpsed.

Depending on the measure of grace or gracelessness one expresses, the storms he endures may be of longer or shorter duration and ferocity, but their falsity cannot delude forever, despite carking fears they will persist like that centuries-old storm on Jupiter. Life's "dirty weather", as Captain MacWhirr calls it in Joseph Conrad's "Typhoon", exists after all only as the dyspepsia which follows yielding to the temptation to taste the forbidden fruit on the tree in the midst of the garden.

Should one find himself flung willy-nilly, to and fro on an ocean of troubles, he should heed Captain MacWhirr's sound advice: "Keep her facing it. They may say what they like, but the heaviest seas run with the wind. Facing it--always facing it--that's the way to get through." "The foam and fury of illegitimate living and of fearful and doleful dying should disappear on the shore of time; then the waves of sin, sorrow, and death beat in vain." (S&H 203: 27-30) Resolutely facing adversities, realizing they are all ultimately unreal and powerless, will also aid in breaking the illusory grip of aggressive mental suggestions that things or conditions which aren't God exist now or ever existed.

Note: The last wicket in the previous entry was added on the spur of the moment and may be a little too cute. I think LowlyWise got it. It is simply Christian Science with Christ removed. The short-sheet also implied the need for study of Prose Works, the Church Manual, and poems of Mrs. Eddy, plus, of course, OLD periodicals, class papers, Bible commentaries, etc.

A Few Sticky Wickets

o The Mulligan. A "dire emergency only" phone number kept nonchalantly by the phone.

o The One-Armed Bandit. Perfunctory prayers.

o The Dead Shark. Imaginary, i.e. motionless, "progress".

o The Caspar Milquetoast. Cheering on sweating and weary Christian soldiers from the comfort and safety of the sidelines.

o The Bugs Bunny. "Eh, what's up, Doc?"

o The Short-Sheet. Confining the study of Christian Science solely to the Bible and "Science and Health".

o The Micawber. Confidence that in time something wonderful is going to turn up even though efforts in the direction of spiritualizing thinking have been desultory at best.

o White Lightening. A materialized sense of God and His creation.

o The Tar Baby. Reacting pugnaciously to the claims of sin or aggressive mental suggestion. Duking it out mano a mano with the Adversary.

o The Drive-Thru. Shortcuts along the straight and narrow Way.

o The Tweet. Reducing one's repertoire of Christian Science to a convenient Rolodex of apothegms and bon mots.

o The Pyrite Ploy. Prospecting for anything that glitters.

o The Wedgie. Attempting to succeed with a lite version of the new man.

o Hobson's Choice. Choosing the best among materialism's many delightful offerings.

o Primrose Path Christian Science. . . . ian Science.

Holistic Prayer For Ourselves And Mankind

Challenges and afflictions for some come in copable (if there is such a word) quantities, like parasitic cowbirds. For others they may come in pestilential flocks, like grackles or starlings, but whatever the quantity it is tempting to limit one's Scientific efforts to the demands of personal tribulations, especially when they seem to come in exasperating mongol hordes. Obviously, our first responsibility should be to our own well-being, but taking care that this devotion to self does not become self-indulgent from soup to nuts.

If our hearts withdraw to the selfish confines of a personal material existence, we shouldn't be surprised if the unhealed and unmet needs of a sick and sinful world intrude upon us unbidden. Failing to pray for the mitigation humanity's overwhelming needs we default to some extent on our duty to pray more comprehensively for our own. We are never separate from our oneness with the whole of God's perfect creation, but to ignore the countless evils besetting humanity is to fail to wrestle with and overcome some of the false beliefs which tempt us all and which originate in the basic lie of mortal mind and to invite unwittingly the unclean spirit to take "seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and enter in and dwell there [in our consciousness]: and the last state of that man is worse than the first." (Matt 12: 45)

To human sense the dismaying quantity, depth, and ferocity of the evil, depravity, and cruelty in the world is ineluctable, but we cannot afford to ignore our duty to defend ourselves from aggressive mental suggestion and to refuse to "stand aghast at nothingness". As we heal in our thinking--the only place it ever "exists"--the world's aggressively mesmeric claims, we cannot fail, to some extent, to heal ourselves. Turning our back on suffering humanity or foolishly hoping the bad out there isn't as bad as we don't want to know gives to Satan the only "life" and influence he can ever have.

Note: By "conniptions" in the previous entry I was only choosing an eye-catching word to capture the false nature of material sense testimony. Nothing profound was intended.

Spiritual Senses Supersede Material Conniptions

It is generally accepted that humans acquire information through their physical senses. They see, hear, feel, taste, and smell with the organs mortal mind has defined for them. If one looks, however, at the definitions of ears and eyes in the Glossary of "Science and Health" it is clear that man's real, spiritual senses are active expressions of right thinking and reflection, not more or less passive receptors of whatever false belief throws his way. In addition to hearing and seeing, the other three senses are also spiritually employed in the Bible or writings of Mary Baker Eddy. Her "Communion Hymn" speaks of feeling the power of the Word. Psalm 34: 8 says: "O taste and see that the Lord is good". II Corinthians 2: 14 says: "Now thanks be to God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour [smell, odor] of his knowledge by us in every place." Those who wait with anticipatory material senses to experience God's presence and power have a very long and fruitless vigil awaiting them.

We have all doubtlessly learned by now that it is not enough to limply accept and then foolishly declare that we are God's perfect spiritual reflections. This reflection must be understood and demonstrated, and understanding and demonstration require the use of our spiritual senses--in addition to a lot of study, thought, and prayer. "The senses of Spirit abide in Love, and they demonstrate Truth and Life." (S&H 274: 12-13)

Pigheaded!

That's what it is, or maybe good intentions with too much of the bark of stubborn human selfhood left on. There is firm footing, we are told, straight through the Slough of Despond for those who keep their eyes fixed on the little wicket gate at the far side. Still, there are those of us who are determined "to choose and see my path" (Hymn #169) or kick against the pricks even if it means wasted years wallowing in and playing patty-cake with the muck. Our materially-minded best efforts are unlikely to suffice--now or ever. In humility we must let that "kindly Light" daily lead us on.

Intention oft wishes to be mistaken for realization, but as that old saying goes "There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip" (Palladas). Should the above tableau resonate with any reader, or even some recalcitrant amanuensis somewhere, it simply cannot be allowed to continue. High-minded desires and self-satisfying musings, if indulged, will, at best, only lead us down the primrose path.

"Only by persistent, unremitting, straight-forward toil; by turning neither to the right nor to the left, seeking no other pursuit or pleasure than that which cometh from God, can you win and wear the crown of the faithful." (Mis 340: 6-10)

Mixing Grey and "Black" Socks. How Gauche.

I am glad that my parting remark in the second entry before this one was not, apparently, greatly misinterpreted. I intended to put a note on the last entry, but Concerned must have had me in a hopeless tizzy. My remark was aimed at the proliferating kudzu, and that seems to have been understood in spite of a few angry gibes.

Concerned's latest remarks are interesting and obviously sincere. I may be wrong, but Concerned may be of a later generation or two than I, a generation which might not view, say, '50's Sentinels and Journals as superior in all respects to those today. I believe the goal of Christian Science and the periodicals is to attract those very few "honest seekers for Truth", not everyone who can be dragooned into joining ready or not. One million new "members" with scant interest in or understanding of Christian Science would not somehow result in a critical mass reaction leading to a revitilization of the Church (though Concerned made no such claim).

I do feel Concerned is inclined to cut the Board too much slack. They don't seem to mind slicing themselves a most generous piece of the financial pie, but come up way short (I think) where blessings and benefits to Christian Science and the Church are concerned. Of course it's a huge challenge, but truly honest "Directors" would compensate themselves as businesses do for their top executives: offer a very modest base salary and then set some challenging--repeat, challenging--goals and pay a bonus only on their achievement. That would certainly separate genuine pontifices from phony panhandlers, but that is not going to happen where those who make the rules also get to referee the game.

I'll step aside and let our Leader squeeze in a few words: "To strike out right and left against the mist, never clears the vision; but to lift your head above it, is a sovereign panacea." (Mis 355: 16-18) The whole crackerjack article ("The Way"), from which this quote comes, needs in fact to be burned into my consciousness. No one would ever lose a thing by forgetting me and reading her. She is indeed the quill.

This Time, I Hope It's Asher To Ashes

I will willingly agree with those readers--probably now erstwhile readers--who said in effect that far too many zeros and ones have been wasted on the Planet Waves brouhaha. By now I may only be writing to myself and maybe Concerned until he/she extracts his pound of flesh. However, it does at last appear plausible that Concerned's arguments may have some legs, but Ms. Asher's delayed and various "Rashoman"-like explanations and "apologies" still seem like game but lame attempts to get the toothpaste back in the tube. If the sphinx at the center of this had chosen, like Garbo, to finally speak, it would never I suspect have amounted to a cat's meow. The question still remains, if it was untrue why didn't Ms. Trammell land on it within hours in outraged indignation? I also see no evidence that Concerned and other stout defenders of Ms. Trammell today uttered a whisper in her defense then. Does the Church no longer have a COP? Ms. Asher is (or was, she seems to have vanished without a trace) hardly a person in whose mouth or on whose web site one would like to find his good name. You can verify this for yourself on some old information on the Planet Waves site.


I regret having been guilty, like Toyotas, of some "unexpected acceleration" of my own. I had my foot on the accelerator when it should probably have been firmly on the brake. Shame on me. Nevertheless something noteworthy has been brought to light once again by this dustup: the unchristian treatment meted out to anyone with the temerity to raise any unpleasant issue or who has an honest disagreement with or question to ask of the self-righteous and infallible pontificate in Boston. Check wih Elaine Natale (now Davidson, I think), "Matters of Conscience", or the three obviously Christly and highly-respected teachers of "Speaking the Truth in Love". I know of others as well. The typical tactic used against such as these, no matter how heart-felt and sincere their petitions, is to treat them like troublesome and disloyal vermin and eradicate them professionally.


In yesterday's Wall Street Journal there was an article on the effect of budget cuts on police forces in cities. The article focussed on Tulsa, Oklahoma. An incident was described where only one officer was dispatched to a shooting at a fast food place. There was an angry mob there which was beyond the ability of one officer to cope with adequately, but the part of the story that caught my eye was the description of "patrons" of the place casually and callously stepping over the shooting victim (who was in fact dying) in their hurry to get their fast food and go. What I fear is that long-time, loyal members of the Mother Church, like me, have become inexcusably indifferent to and completely apathetic about what has gone on for years at the Mother Church. It is precisely this situation (or my perception of the situation) which motivated "The Broken Net". The Church of my childhood and much of my adulthood is going, going, if not already long gone. Permanently? Not if we loyal and dedicated Scientists get busy.

To InSupportOfTruth et al.

To InSupportOfTruth, you are a little vague on what the Christly Mr. Black did that was so misunderstood or misinterpreted. So apparently it's ok to poke "innocent" fun at Mrs. Eddy or make light of her travails? Why would a Board member with even a particle of love and respect for Mrs. Eddy or Christian Science even contemplate such questionable shenanigans? The word ingrate comes to mind--along with some others.

To the assertion that Ms. Asher "freely admits" the whole Planet Waves thingy was just a "bad joke", I say hogwash. When and where exactly did she freely admit it--in pantomime in the solitude of her Planet Waves office? Ms. Asher's laughable claim that it was all a parody came a good two months after her web site posting. As I said then, parody of what, that Ms. Trammell had a sweet tooth for horoscopes and eriscopes and accompanied Ms. Asher to Meow Mix, a lesbian bar? Then maybe a month after that Ms. Asher claimed in apparent desperation that it was all made up. I'm afraid the aspic had jelled long before that Hail Mary.

The claim that Ms. Trammell was interested in the Planet Waves "business model" is too specific to be made up and, anyway, Ms. Asher must have had a fairly intimate knowledge of Ms. Trammell to write what she did whether fact or fiction. And what about Ms. Asher's quoting of the also still silent John Yemma that "spaciness is next to godliness" or something like that? Quotes like Ms. Asher's don't just drop from the sky like bird poop.

The revelation that Ms. Trammell was hurt by the Planet Waves expose almost had me heading for the Kleenex. Good heavens, woman, if it was so painfully untrue why didn't you speak up? Did that naughty cat get your tongue? Boiled down, the undeniable residue is this: Neither Ms. Trammell nor Mr. Black has ever denied (publicly at any rate) one jot or tittle of either story. And it doesn't take a syllogism to deduce the meaning of either's silence.

Finally, it is unfortunate that this blog is being preempted by some interlopers who gallop about therein prolixly on their self-serving hobbyhorses. It may be necessary to eliminate comments for a while if this continues. To Whom This May Concern: Please set up your own blogs and have at it to your wordy hearts' content.

Like Concerned, I Too Am Concerned

One of Concerned's comments to the second entry before this one is that Mr. Hartsook is not known to check his sources carefully. This argument is nothing but a red herring, the real import of which is that his sources invariably have something unpleasant to report about Board goings-on and are therefore, by definition, highly suspect. The only real issue is, was the Banner report regarding Brown's detestable behavior correct or incorrect? I have not heard of one peep of refutation. I know I'd hop on the story quicker than a starved flea on a fat dog if I were wrongly accused. The silent non-response to this, as well as to the Planet Waves revelations, gives a fig to any nosy Church member who feels he deserves an explanation. To paraphrase the old adage, they think it better to remain silent and thought to be afflicted with a bad case of moral dry rot than to open their mouths and remove all doubt.

It is ironic that the only denial by the Board I can recall was that knee-slapper when they claimed the publishing of Bliss Knapp's "Destiny of the Mother Church" had nothing to do with the $93 million (they hoped, of course, for the whole enchilada of $186 million) in loot, this in light of the Church's refusal for half a century to sell out and publish it. It's a good thing the Pinocchio effect didn't follow that one. The Board would have looked like a cluster of tryouts for the role of Cyrano de Bergerac.

Silly question: When you have empty or soon to be empty buildings gawking at you all across the Church Center, why do you throw up a new one and create yet another blazing sink hole that requires constant financial stoking--after the rosy prediction of haj-like throngs of visitors? Emboldened, it would seem, instead of chastened by past megalomaniacal disasters, most notably the $750 million (give or take a few tens of millions) Monitor Telivision/Monitor debacle and its equally inexplicable sibling, the aforementioned library, it looks like the Captains Crunch are turning their Titanic once again into an ocean infested with icebergs of risk and folly and going intrepidly for an all-or-nothing calamitous hat trick, this time in real estate development. Say it ain't so, Joe.

Concerned also said if you don't like what's in the periodicals send in something yourself. On the surface that's good advice, especially for members of the cozy inner circle, who obviously aren't the ones with a problem, but if one can stand the sight of his tender little pullet emerging from editorial processing plucked and eviscerated, then it might be worth trying, but you had better have a well-stocked hen house and a strong stomach for mayhem inflicted on innocent things.

The Laborer Is Worthy Of His Hire, But . . .

As long as the milk of generous contributions flowed freely, the Pooh-Bahs of the Mother Church were utterly (or udderly) content to batten at the Old Faithful of the Church Treasurer's breast. A disturbing ebb in this largess no doubt prompted the search for a more reliable, or at least supplemental, breast upon which to feed, and the quest for a sure-fire business model (though probably not the once-seductive Planet Waves model) was born. But, O dear, how the blissfully nursing infant recoils from any carking cares. Far better the warm security of some readily available milk from the maternal breast of the Mother Church or a convenient cash cow than the awful specter of weaning, which a scientific demonstration of true supply through Christian Science would require.



No one doubts that it is, to human sense at least, extremely difficult to make a living as a practitioner, which is probably one reason so many have left their impecunious home-town labors for the big payout that beckons in Boston, even if it means enduring the rough-and-tumble of the scrum in the MC office which dispenses CSB's, lectureships, and the occasional lagnaippe of high office. The rush to these bestowals ignores one sad fact of these deeply materialistic times, that it is pretty much a zero-sum game if one is looking for "honest seekers for Truth". Even the most generously endowed sow has only so many dispensaries. The perceptible decline in recent years in the quality of practitioners, teachers, and lecturers is one byproduct of this growth in the ranks of mercenaries who "have gun, will travel" (at your not-inconsiderable expense). It is also quite likely that the once careful, if not rigorous, vetting process for primary class pupils is as much a thing of the past as Bill Clinton's chastity. A mirror beneath the nostrils is probably sufficient for some teachers in our desperate times. Supply now seems to be routinely "demonstrated" in the pockets of the bamboozled, blandished, and befuddled.



Christ and Christian Science demand that each adherent demonstrate it. I certainly include myself in that number who could do this a whole lot better, but I know of nothing in the teachings of Christ Jesus or Mary Baker Eddy which authorizes a hypocritical priestly caste which is entitled to nurse parasitically in perpetuity on the milk of others' kindnesses, however voluntarily those kindnesses were extracted, rather than vigorously and clearly demonstrating spiritually and scientifically what they ostensibly stand (and get well paid) for.

An Open Letter to the Board of The Mother Church

It is a conundrum that those positions in the Mother Church which demand the most pure, dedicated, loyal, selfless, and spiritual of Christian Scientists have for at least the past two or three decades fallen instead into the hands of the most crass and despicable of Scientists. Tom Black's cruel and contemptibly debased mocking of Mrs. Eddy in her agonizing trials as she stood alone courageously against the allied forces of evil in order to bring to us her great Discovery was disgustingly tasteless and depraved. It would have been an inexcusable act for a degenerate, which, come to think of it, it must have been.

Alas, this was only the latest on a very long list of injustices, insults, and indignities committed against the Church and its Leader over the past couple or three decades. By so doing you have only demonstrated once again your total lack of fitness to represent the Church, much less run it. Would you not do just one kind and selfless deed for the Church after all your faithless years, namely, depart from it? This wouldn't require what are obviously far beyond your ken, Christly love, compassion for others, and a heartfelt respect for your Leader, but simply a little grudging consideration for those who have, as humbly as they know how, "named the name of Christ", however imperfectly.

I write this with scant expectation it will ever pass before any of your supercilious eyes or be read even if it did, but my love for Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy--their countless sacrifices and trials, their selfless labors, their priceless examples and legacies, and the many blessings they have bestowed upon me--compel me to write. I am sure that if by some miracle you did read this letter it would be self-righteously dismissed out of hand because its author did not have the courage to sign it, and, of course, you would never respond to anonymous trash. So be it. Having no more respect for you than I do for Judas Iscariot, I wouldn't care to get a response from you anyway and could not hope to get honest, straightforward answers even if you condescended to do so. Your certain antipathy to my assertions is, however, insignificant in comparison to the betrayal of Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy it would have been if I had simply said nothing and given you yet another of the apathetic free passes you so cynically count on.

The M.C. Eminence Greasy Advises the Board

Now that we're all huddled together down here with the ice machines in the basement of the Publishing Society, it's time to kick some keister and restore the Church Center to its former glory. First, l'elephant blanc. What? The Library, Mary. What were you people thinking when you built that thing? Just a rhetorical question, since I know only too well what you were thinking. Anyway. To give it some much needed pizzazz, reopen the espresso bar and add an atmospheric (maybe stars and planets, Mary) saloon. Then how about a branch of Meow Mix and something like it for the gents--Tom Mix, let's call it? That should bring in some of the "elusive spondulicks". Squiffed "researchers" can then go upstairs and rummage through the drug-addled old lady's letters and personal papers. Finally, we'll let The Salvation Army and maybe a full-service pharmacy have some space, if there's room, in this mini-mall on the ground floor. They would lend some real class and give us a couple of "betterment of humanity" pegs to hang our chapeaus on.

Now, Mary, let's have some spicy centerfolds in the Journal--full color, but not too tasteless. You know what I mean, I'm sure. They could be called Cuddly Candy Strip(p)er of the month and Scientific Stud of the month. Next, Trammell, Harris, and Gill can work on revising Science and Health and the Church Manual. Cut out all the boring and wet-blanket crap. End up with one slim volume the size of an i-phone. That'll show folks we're with the times. Next, make sure our medical guru,Virginia, and one of the J-boys keep on top of the Bible lesson committee. We want a deck as cold as we can make it, and the suckers who use it will still think they're getting an honest "deal". Lectures will be packages of mass-produced baloney sprinkled with a few platitudes and some pixie dust. Lecturers will be little more than sales reps chosen for their willingness to say whatever we tell them to in return for a nice payday. We want more paying church members, and I don't care if they are Tiger Woods, Nancy Pelosi, or a foul-mouthed Joe in his cups. Kaching, kaching is the theme song of The Mother Church, Inc., LLC.

Finally, for the nonce, we'll turn to the Original Edifice and convert all that wasted space into a flop house and drug rehabilitation center. The hoi polloi can even bring their libations over from the Library and crash. What? Quit giggling over your eriscope, Mary, I said hoi polloi, not hooey pooey. Talk to her Nate. We can turn Mother's Room into a cozy boudoir for indigents with a little extra change in their pockets. Charges will be modest, but realistic. Don't forget, we're running a business, boys and girls, not a church! This should show the critical rabble out there and the New York Times how much we love and care for our fellow man. If this place was good enough for the invalid junkie who built it, Tom, it should be good enough for them.

Let's close this confab with a prayer. Call Father Whatshisname for the Paternoster. Busy? Never mind. Group dismissed.

C.S. Schnorrer [Mis]Management and Real Estate

I was at work on my next entry when the Mercury (Winged Messenger) of Andrew Hartsook's latest "Banner" (Spring 2010) rumbled into my study like a freight train, temporarily diverting my little choo-choo onto a siding. Just when some readers may have thought my last entry about the periodical situation in Bean Town was a bit too caustic, this newsletter arrives. I cannot urge too strongly that all sympathetic readers of this blog obtain it posthaste, if they haven't seen it already.


The Banner's inditing of the MC BOD's returning again and again to their vomit confirms much of what I have written over the past couple of years. The Board--individually and collectively--is too all appearances wandering helplessly and hopelessly in the stygian darkness of moral and spiritual idiocy. Any light by which they might have seen the saving compass of Christ and Christian Science and been led out was obviously snuffed out years ago.


The following question appears at the end of the first paragraph of Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress": "What shall I do?" He later expands it to the more significant: "What shall I do to be saved?" As each of us navigates through the treacherous shoals, reefs, sand bars, and submerged wreckage of mortal mind and aggressive mental suggestion, he may need to ask the same questions. For me, one answer is that I must become a better example for mankind and for "honest seekers for Truth". It therefore seems only right that I should not be a party to any activity--church or otherwise--which is not scrupulously obedient to the Church Manual (letter and spirit) and the demands of Christian Science. This means refusing to support with my money or services any activity or church which violates these standards. Simply going along (compromising) with wrong-doing in order to get along in dishonest amity with fellow church members or my neighbor is disloyalty to God and my Leader.

The blessings which can result from being truthful to one's beliefs is beautifully illustrated in an article by Raymond L. Cox in the Salvation Army's "War Cry", which was exerpted in "Signs of theTimes" in the September 21, 1957, Sentinel [Remember when they were a pleasure to read?]. During the Civil War a Christian soldier, obviously in both senses, aroused the antagonism of his tent mates because every night before going to bed in his cot he would kneel in prayer at its side. Ongoing abusive language eventually led to physical violence, and he was advised by his chaplain that it might be wise to pray in bed. He started to do so one night, but his conscience was uneasy with this compromise of his principles. He then climbed out of his cot and resolved to resume his habit of kneeling in prayer, preferring "prayer with persecution to peace without it". In a few months his companion's hearts were touched and their spiritual interests awakened. "Eventually all of them began to kneel nightly in prayer with him."

The article continued: "Never ought a Christian to compromise his conscience or convictions. No advantage is likely to be gained by striking one's spiritual colors. Jesus commanded, 'Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' Some are sure to try to extinguish the light. . . . In spite of unfavorable reactions, Christians should never haul down their standard. Surely the prize is worth the price!" Very well said, and most of the non-quoted material also uses Mr. Cox's wording. In the words of the famous Pete Seeger labor song: "Which side are you on?"

Note: A reader recently asked my opinion of the current Sentinel. This and certainly the previous entry should give a pretty clear answer. I haven't read the Sentinel for a good 15 years and maybe more and may have seen only a half dozen copies during that period. It needs in my opinion to be handled with fireplace tongs, which is obviously a nuisance.