Independent Christian Science articles

The Oil and the Wine

From the Christian Science Journal, April 16, 1921, by


THE great difficulty with the ordinary commentary on the Book of Revelation is that it will take a material instead of a spiritual view of the meaning of the writer. It is perfectly true that the material view usually taken is one which the commentator would describe as a spiritual view, but it is rather more material than less for this very reason. The church typified by the writer of the book is the church universal, precisely what Mrs. Eddy means when she defines Church, on page 583 of Science and Health, as “The structure of Truth and Love; whatever rests upon and proceeds from divine Principle.” For this reason the history of this church is something apart from time, it dwells in the eternal now. Thus the great allegory, with which the Bible closes, is applicable to the conditions of the Christian church of all countries and in all ages. When, therefore, any commentator tries to confine the meaning of the book to a certain epoch or to a particular episode, he reduces the church universal to a local conception of a church, and takes the whole meaning out of the text for the enlightenment and direction of all men in every age.

Thus the episode of the opening of the seals and of the appearance of the horsemen is one the significance of which has been perceived, again and again, by the Christian church fighting its way upward to a clearer perception of Principle. The riders on the red, the black, and the pale horses guided their steeds across Europe in the days of the Reformation and the Thirty Years’ War as certainly as they have in the twentieth century; whilst the rider on the white horse has always been in the van, going forth, like the church militant, conquering and to conquer. What is true of the sixteenth century and of the twentieth has been true in all times of acute chemicalization; and what Mrs. Eddy means by chemicalization she has pointed out carefully on page 401 of Science and Health, where she says: “What I term Chemicalization is the upheaval produced when immortal Truth is destroying erroneous mortal belief. Mental chemicalization brings sin and sickness to the surface, forcing impurities to pass away, as is the case with a fermenting fluid.” At such periods the violence of the chemicalization is in proportion to the dynamic force of the truth realized. It is then that men’s passions explode in war; it is then that human hatred finds its expression in famine and pestilence; and it is then that fear makes death seem victor for the moment. Yet all the time the rider on the white horse is in the very van of the fight, and the victory is never in danger for a moment. “Marvels, calamities, and sin will much more abound,” Mrs. Eddy writes, on page 223 of Science and Health, “as truth urges upon mortals its resisted claims; but the awful daring of sin destroys sin, and foreshadows the triumph of truth. God will overturn, until ‘He come whose right it is.'”

It is in the interval between the opening of the third seal and the fourth seal, when the rider on the black horse is already scattering famine broadcast, but before the rider on the pale horse has come with the additional terror of death, that the writer inserts the remarkable passage, “A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.” The meaning of the passage is, of course, quite simple, and it has come to encourage the Christian church fighting its battle against evil, in a seemingly hopeless minority, in every period of history. The Roman denarius was, of course, not the equivalent of the English penny, nor was the penny of King James the equivalent of the penny of the twentieth century. What the writer was insisting upon, but what the translation scarcely impresses on the reader, was the tremendous scarcity when food was offered to the world at many hundred per cent above its normal cost. The prices, in short, were virtually famine prices, since famine, on his black horse, was abroad in the land. And yet immediately following this announcement comes the command that the oil and the wine, the oil of gladness and consecration, and the wine of inspiration, the food of the church, are not to be hurt.

No matter how terrible the conditions about it, the Church, “the structure of Truth and Love,” will remain unaffected. While the great majority, relying on its strength to overwhelm the little minority, was rushing upon its doom, the minority, the oil and the wine, was to remain unharmed. “On one side,” as Mrs. Eddy says, on page 96 of Science and Health, “there will be discord and dismay; on the other side there will be Science and peace.” This is the record of every chemicalization the world has ever seen. It was so in the days of the fiery furnace of Nebuchadnezzar, and of the den of lions of Darius, and it has been so ever since when men have trusted to Principle instead of to policy, to Truth instead of to lies, and have not halted between two opinions. War, famine and pestilence, and death, are only phases of the belief in material appetites and passions, which are stirred into violent commotion whenever truth is spoken with sufficient incisiveness and understanding to threaten the existence of these appetites and passions. The true church is the understanding of Principle which rouses error into moral chemicalization, and so causes it to pass away in destruction, and not, as the writer of Revelation very well knew, the human beings who crowded into the church in Sardis, but who nevertheless had defiled their garments, nor those who in the church at Laodicea were so wise and politic that they were neither hot nor cold, nor those who held to the doctrine of Balaam in the church at Pergamos. In other words, the oil and the wine were not those who attended the church and who, while seeming to be living, were really spiritually dead, but those who understood Truth, and lived in obedience to Truth sufficiently to be able to demonstrate Truth.

The great barrier to the acceptance of Truth is always fear and sensuality, fear in the shape of pure physical timidity, and sensuality in the unwillingness to break away from convention and all that convention means. The majority remains a majority just so long as this fear and sensuality combine to keep mankind from thinking for themselves, and then rising to the courage of their conviction, for it must be remembered that the church has always been a very slender minority in the world. To keep the world from thinking for itself, such instruments as the “index” have been established, and to chain the world with its own sensuality everything has been done to induce it to make what are termed its human footsteps the size of Gargantua’s. Ultimately, of course, physical fear itself is seen as a phase of sensuality, so that eventually the struggle narrows down, as always, to the perpetual conflict between the lusts of the flesh and the fruits of the Spirit. Out of this comes the necessity, so insistently dwelt on by Mrs. Eddy, for realizing the powerlessness of evil and the nothingness of matter, through an abiding sense of the allness of Principle. It was the necessity for this which Jesus made so clear to Nicodemus, when the Pharisee came to him, by night, in Jerusalem. It is the distinction drawn in the two stories of creation with which the Bible opens, and it is continued down to the closing words of the Book of Revelation. And in all that period the oil and the wine have never been hurt.


The Nothingness of Nothing

From the Christian Science Sentinel, April 23, 1921, by


When Mrs. Eddy realized the nothingness of evil, she found the way to its destruction. For centuries the world had been fighting evil, or rather the instinct of good in the world had been fighting evil, as a tremendous reality. The human being, animated by some dim realization of Principle, went into the battle with evil, not regarding his true self as the image and likeness of Principle and so as its master, but regarding it rather as described in the old folk tales, and himself as a frail and sensuous man, engaged in a more or less unequal contest with it. He forgot that if the writer of Revelation pictured this evil as a great red dragon for the purpose of symbolizing its pretended might, he later endowed it with the other names for evil, “that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan,” with the intention of insisting upon the oneness of its claims to counterfeit reality, before consigning them to oblivion and nothingness. Thus when Mrs. Eddy, in Science and Health, first drew attention to the obvious fact that if God, Principle, was good and was infinite, there was no room for evil as a reality, scholasticism roused itself into a veritable passion of argument, in the course of which it rejected every one of its own axioms, and behaved more like the demoniac amidst the tombs than anything else.

Now it must not be imagined for one moment that the repudiation of evil as a reality even predicates any encouragement to sin. It does the very reverse. It makes sin deliberate, beyond the advancement of any excuse, and so exposes the impossibility of sin unrepented of escaping punishment. The Calvinist or the fatalist may plead the inevitability of sin, when sin is foreordained, but the Christian Scientist knows that sin is a mesmerism which must, sooner or later, be awakened from, since good, because it is Principle, must also be the reality. Nothing, that is to say, outside of Principle can have any actuality. As a theory such a statement is easy enough to comprehend. But Christian Science is not satisfied with theories. James declared that faith without works, theory without demonstration, was a dead thing. Mrs. Eddy has gone as far, or further than James. “In Science,” she writes, on page 329 of Science and Health, “we can use only what we understand. We must prove our faith by demonstration.” In this way the emotionality of religion is put out of court. Religion is proclaimed as precisely what it is defined as in the Greek of the New Testament, the scientific knowledge of God, Principle. And the student is forced to take his stand on those wonderful opening sentences of the First Epistle of John, read no longer as a mystical utterance, but as a plain scientific statement: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life; (for the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and shew unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us;) that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you.”

The effort of Christian Science, then, is not merely to preach the gospel, the good new, or the truth, but, as well, to heal the sick, to prove to the sick that what heals is a knowledge of Truth, and the sick, be it said, are all those believing anything except the truth, and so being deceived by the arch-liar, the great red dragon, with all his subtleties and suggestions. Of course, the dragon is too clever, if the terms of the metaphor are to be accepted, to represent what the human mind defines as evil as being good. As good, he offers the good of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,—carnal appetite, vainglory, power, the very things Christ Jesus trampled underfoot in his own struggle with evil in the wilderness. Human joy and physical pleasure, that is the dragon’s summing up of good: physical suffering and human sorrow represent the sum of evil. But no man can have one without the other. Physical life must end in death, yet life is eternal: human joy must finish in sorrow, yet men are as the angels in heaven. Between the inherited scholastic teaching as to evil and the teaching of Christian Science there is evidently a great gulf fixed, and Mrs. Eddy plumbed it in the exposure of evil as unreal.

“And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.” So wrote the author of Revelation in the first century, and eighteen centuries later Mrs. Eddy wrote, on page 563 of Science and Health: “The great red dragon symbolizes a lie,—the belief that substance, life, and intelligence can be material. This dragon stands for the sum total of human error. The ten horns of the dragon typify the belief that matter has power of its own, and that by means of an evil mind in matter the Ten Commandments can be broken.” If matter were real, if evil were power, this would unquestionably be the case, and not only the present case but the eternal case. Fortunately, however, matter is not real, and evil is not power, and this is proved in Christian Science every time, through a knowledge of their unreality and powerlessness, a case of sickness is healed or a sin overcome. Men still believe that the horns of the dragon can break the Ten Commandments, because they first give power to the dragon out of human fear, and then constitute him real out of human sensuousness. But to merely say that matter is unreal amounts to almost nothing. The metaphysical reason for its unreality must be grasped and understood. In just the same way, to say there is no power in evil is merely futile for any one behaving all the time as if there were. None the less the letter and the spirit must go hand in hand, and the letter never is fully grasped until the spirit is assimilated, any more than the spirit can be fully assimilated until the letter is grasped. When this occurs nothing can withstand the Science and might of Principle; “ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

In the knowledge of this truth, the unreality and powerlessness of evil, lies the secret of the peace of God which passeth all understanding. The distraughtness, the restlessness, the trouble that pursue the individual, exist in the exact ratio of the individual’s belief in evil, and vanish in the exact ratio in which the individual, through his knowledge of Principle, reduces evil to nothing. A belief in the power of evil is an inevitable expression of materiality. Greater love, says the Greek of the New Testament, hath no man than this, that a man lay down his materiality for his friends. So long as the human being believes in materiality, he must believe in sin, sickness, and death; in other words, in the reality of matter and the power of evil. When he begins to lay down his materiality it can only be because he has gained his first glimpse of spiritual reality, and so of life eternal. This is the very foundation of Christian Science teaching. “There is,” Mrs. Eddy writes, on page 468 of Science and Health, “no life, truth, intelligence, nor substance in matter. All is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation, for God is All-in-all.”



Love is the liberator.