Before we begin, a quick word of warning: if you’re a devout Christian Scientist, a fan of metaphysical reasoning, or simply allergic to sarcasm, you may wish to pop the kettle on and find a gentler corner of the internet. What follows is a light-hearted take on Christian Science – a movement born in 19th-century America and steeped in the noble tradition of telling your symptoms to kindly shove off.
Now, I don’t mean to offend – heaven forbid. I come not to mock the faithful, but to squint at their ideas like a confused librarian reading Alice in Wonderland after one too many sherries.
So, take a seat, suspend your disbelief (and perhaps your reliance on antibiotics), and let’s explore a world where illness is imaginary, prayer is the panacea, and reality is negotiable. Cheers.
Right, so there I was, minding my own business, when I stumbled across something called Christian Science. And I thought, “Ah, smashing! Finally, someone’s figured out how to make sense of both Jesus and the periodic table.” But oh no. That would’ve been far too sensible.
Instead, what I found was a theological soufflé whipped up by a 19th-century New England woman with a headache, a Bible, and – presumably – a deep mistrust of thermometers.
Let me walk you through it.
Chapter One: The Illusion of It All, Including Your Head Cold
Now, according to Mary Baker Eddy – the movement’s founding mother and, one assumes, a woman with the patience of a saint and the bedside manner of a librarian – everything is spiritual. Everything. The trees? Not real. Your cat? A suggestion. The six-hour queue at the GP? A metaphysical misunderstanding.
Illness, you see, isn’t illness. It’s an ‘error of mortal mind.’ Which is a posh way of saying you’re not really sick – you just think you are. Like a magic trick, only without the top hat and with more existential dread.
I imagine my last flu would’ve been diagnosed thus:
“Ah yes, classic misalignment with the divine Mind. Try some prayer and stop believing in phlegm.”
Chapter Two: Doctor Who?
In Christian Science, going to a doctor is a bit like calling an Uber to walk you to the kitchen. Entirely unnecessary, apparently. Why see someone with years of medical training when you could ring up a Christian Science Practitioner who’ll pray very hard and send you an invoice?
And look, I’ve nothing against prayer – it’s calming, centring, and it’s gotten me through many awkward Sunday roasts with the in-laws. But if I’ve just swallowed a Lego brick, I’d rather not rely on transcendental thought to pass it.
It’s a bit like having your house on fire and calling a poet instead of the fire brigade.
Chapter Three: The Bible… and Its Sequel?
Now, they do love the Bible – but only as long as it’s read through the lens of Mary Baker Eddy’s Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. That’s the real star of the show. It’s like the director’s commentary to the Bible, but with extra capital letters and significantly fewer plagues.
They read it every Sunday, in pairs of well-behaved laypeople (no clergy, no sass), and deliver what I can only describe as Scriptural karaoke – half Bible, half Eddy, all performed with the emotive passion of a slightly damp tea towel.
Chapter Four: The Great Healing
Here’s the thing – they claim actual healing through prayer alone. And not just the power of positive thinking, but full-blown “Oh look, my broken leg has vanished” levels of divine DIY.
There are testimonies – loads of them. People recovering from cancer, arthritis, and one chap who claimed he cured his toothache by realising his teeth were a false concept. (I suspect his dentist would disagree.)
Now, are some people helped by this approach? Probably! The human mind’s a marvel, and belief can do wonders. But if belief alone sorted our ailments, A&E would be staffed entirely by motivational speakers and the occasional shaman.
Chapter Five: Legal Trouble and Lip Balm
Of course, the no-doctor thing hasn’t gone down well with the rest of society. There’ve been lawsuits, tragic deaths, and the kind of headlines that make you choke on your Cornflakes:
‘Child Dies of Faith Healing’
‘Church Claims Appendicitis is Just Spiritual Rebellion’
It’s all rather bleak, really. Especially when you realise many adherents genuinely believe they’re doing the right thing. It’s not malicious – it’s just a very committed misreading of reality. Like someone refusing to open an umbrella because the rain is ‘just an illusion of mortal perception.’
Tell that to my socks.
Conclusion: All’s Well That Feels Well?
So where does this leave us?
Christian Science is a fascinating stew of high ideals, low practicality, and enough philosophical somersaults to make a trapeze artist nauseous. It’s sincere, oddly elegant in its logic, and utterly bonkers if you’ve ever had a migraine and a thermometer.
Do I respect the optimism? Absolutely. Do I think prayer has a place in healing? Perhaps. Do I want to be told that my fractured arm is just an unfortunate thought pattern? Not unless you want to see a very real spiritual outburst from me.
As they say in the old country:
“Trust in God – but keep the paracetamol handy.”
Wording 