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
I’ve written about September 11th in a previous post, telling of my own personal memories of that day. For me, September 11th has always been a day of reflection and introspection. I always remember exactly what I was doing, and where I was when I heard about the attacks. I was at work in Boston at The Mother Church in the Media Services department, cataloguing our sound effects library. I remember watching on live TV as the second plane hit the World Trade Center in New York City, and that sinking feeling that the world was not going to be the same any more. Continue reading
I wrote two previous posts about my days in the Christian Science Sunday School under the tutelage of Mr. M (name changed to protect the asshole)–for context on this post, I recommend you read the two older posts first. Shortly after the events I tell about in this post, Mr. M was removed from his position in the Sunday School–I don’t remember exactly how soon afterwards, but I recall it all happened within a month or so. This post tells that story. Continue reading
A while back, I wrote a post about an experience from my days as a Christian Science Sunday School student. My teacher at the time was a man I call Mr. M. (I’ll keep his identity secret, although I believe he is now deceased). If you go back to my previous post, you’ll read all about his diatribes against abortion, but that’s only one of many for him. He had more, and worse, in his arsenal. Continue reading
Today marks 12 years since the tragic events of September 11, 2001. I had a metaphorical ringside or at least balcony seat to the events of that day, as I was living in Boston, Massachusetts, and working at The Mother Church at that time, and had just arrived at work as the attacks happened in New York City. We watched the second World Trade Center tower get hit on live TV as it happened, as well as the collapse of both towers.
Today’s post is a departure from the usual theme here in this blog. It has nothing to do with Christian Science or my connection or disconnection from it. Here, I share a piece I wrote and posted on-line in September, 2009. It is the story of my experiences on September 11, 2001, a day I will never forget. In memory of this tragic event, I share this with you, dear readers. Continue reading
I was just reminded today of a funny story my Dad related to me several times, and it shows up the absolutely stupid and bull-headed hypocrisy of some Christian Scientists, but in a sort of sadly funny way. It involves a branch church, a renovation of the sanctuary (always something bound to stir up controversy in a Christian Science church), a young architect, a sound system, and a holier-than-thou Christian Science practitioner. Continue reading
Dad’s physical condition was stabilizing, and he was eventually moved out of the cardiac ward and into the long-term care ward. His mental state continued to deteriorate. Sometimes he recognized me, sometimes not. He often thought I was his younger brother, whom he had nicknamed “asshole” when they were kids and fought a lot. So, frequently I was greeted with “hey asshole” when I entered the room. Most of the time, I just took it, but to the muffled amusement of the nurses, occasionally I struck back and told him that I didn’t “fucking appreciate being called an asshole, and that I deserved a little bit of respect.” Usually that brought him back to the present, and he realized who I was. Continue reading
The conversation I had with Mr. & Mrs. Smith hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. When I talked to Dad and raised my concerns and implored him to think about getting to the hospital, he got very angry with me, and cussed about how the Smiths and everyone else should just mind their own business and leave him alone. He was adamant that he would get healing in Christian Science or just die. Either way, he wasn’t going to the hospital. I felt helpless. I was 3,000 miles away, and wasn’t in much of a financial position to afford to travel on short notice to Dad’s home. I felt trapped and helpless. Continue reading
This is related to my previous post, ‘A Death in the Family‘, and the events I describe here follow on from that post, later in the same year. Since this is a long story to tell, I have broken it into multiple parts. All related posts are under the category ‘Death in my Family‘.
So, what was the final push that got me out of Christian Science? The final of the “death by 1,000 cuts” of my faith in it? My father’s death. Yes, I’m being very un-Christian Science by saying the “D” word, but he died. Unlike in the case of my Mom, I was there for every terrible part of it. Christian Science failed my father in the most horrible way. He was dedicated to it for most of his life, but in the end, his unwavering faith in it condemned him to unspeakable suffering, just as it had my Mom. Continue reading
Even though I have left Christian Science, in many ways, it hasn’t completely left me, and I don’t think it ever will. As I’ve discussed in a previous post, certain habits die hard. As I heard a fellow Christian Science Classmate of mine once say years ago when we were talking of a fellow student who at the time had recently left the faith, “she may have left Christian Science, but it will never leave her.” Then, that was a comforting statement to me; now, it underscores my annoyance–especially as it relates to some of my old Christian Science habits that die hard, if ever. Continue reading