Real, genuine science, as opposed to Christian ‘Science’, is the quest for knowledge. This is knowledge gained through research, observation, verification, and duplication of results. The scientific method is a rigorous and well-accepted way to acquire and verify new knowledge that has its roots in the emergence of science itself in ancient Egypt and Greece, and evolved into its present form during the 17th and 18th centuries.1 Continue reading
Photo credit: Emerging Gently.
He was four-foot something tall flash of energy under a platinum-blonde head of hair scrambling along the scree slope. They were on one of their many fishing trips in the rivers and lakes north of the city they lived in. In spite of having gone on many of these fishing trips, the little boy could not recall many times when they actually caught a fish. Catching fish was almost an after-thought. It was the journey–a few hours in the car, followed by a one or two-hour hike to the lake of choice for the day, and the peaceful time together at that lake that were the main events. Catching fish was a bonus that came along from time to time. Continue reading
“Divine Love always has met and always will meet every human need”
(Mary Baker Eddy)
If you’ve been a Christian Scientist, or even have the slightest familiarity with it, you’re probably familiar with this phrase. It’s a phrase that at one time brought great comfort to me and many other former Christian Scientists back when we still marinated in the Christian Science Krazy Sauce. Continue reading
A fellow ex-Christian Scientist posted this article, the first in a four-part series examining the true effectiveness of prayer. Interesting article.
Since 2009, this has not been an easy time of year for me, to be honest. On December 25, 2009, at approximately 6:30 pm, after an approximately seven year battle with untreated (and I don’t consider Christian Science “treatment” to be any sort of valid treatment at all) heart failure, my Dad died. My holiday malaise usually gets going around the weekend of American Thanksgiving, usually the last Thursday of November. That’s when I flew out to where Dad lived to look after him in what turned out to be his last days. Continue reading
Emerging Gently 