What kind of church would you need on a spiritual frontier? It would need to be simple and stripped down, wouldn't it?

Any frontier situation is demanding. There just isn't time for carrying around a lot of unnecessary baggage. You have to be ready to deal with the essentials.

It's the same with the spiritual frontier. And of course that's where mankind now is, on the edge of discerning a spiritual era. It's a period of great possibility but also of severe challenges at times, as it was on the frontier in the old days.

One of the things visitors to a Church of Christ, Scientist, might notice first is that there is no clergy and no personal sermons. Then they might realize that there are also no rituals or symbols. There's a kind of lean simplicity to the church and its services.

That's the way the Founder of Christian Science, Mary Baker Eddy, planned it. She believed in keeping it simple so the main thing wouldn't become busy human activities. The emphasis was to be on worshiping God, serving God, thinking about God.

In the early 1800s in the United States, those who went West to the frontier were drawn by the potential of a vast, uncharted land. The vision of space and freedom meant so much to them they were willing to leave the conventions of society behind and put everything they had into pressing toward new territory. It's similar for those who are studying Christian Science today. The point isn't conforming to what society thinks is good form or comfortable in the way of church. There are lots of innovations one might become involved in if that were the aim. But it isn't.

Some may wonder, though, if this kind of church isn't just too lean, too demanding, to attract people today. Actually, no, it isn't. It is the very kind of thing so many are looking for now. They are terribly tired of a familiar, conventional sense of piety. They are seeking a new honesty and direct spiritual experience—the kind you find in the Bible. They're asking if it isn't still possible to live that way in a complex, self-conscious, scientific age.

With all this attention to God, however, isn't there a lack of warmth and love for fellow human beings? Not if there's a real love for God. The real thing inevitably begins to show something of man in God's image. It produces more love for "neighbors" and fellow church members, not less. A genuine, Christianly scientific basis deepens our love and makes it more consistent. And the structure of Christian Science church services also works toward that end. At midweek services, for example, there is an opening up to each other, a time for hearing from each other about spiritual experiences and healing.

Approached in the right spirit, this can be an especially warm and supportive time. Here all are equals. It's the feeling of the early Christian Church, expressed by Paul when he writes, "And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. ... And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling." ^{I Cor. 2:1, 3.} No one is, or should be, preaching from some exalted, personal standpoint. Everyone is listening to God for how to share what will be meaningful to others—and then the words come spontaneously and naturally. There's nothing rigid about this service; it's literally shaped by the inspiration of the moment.

We were interested to see how Christian Science services struck a career missionary many years ago. Addressing his fellow missionaries, he said: "We have deplored the tendency of the modern church to magnify the importance of 'sermons'; for it has come to pass that church attendance depends largely upon the popularity of the preacher, and an entertaining discourse usually attracts more followers than a pure presentation of gospel truth. ..." Speaking of how the Bible and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures serve as pastor, he added, "In place of the various teachings of different preachers and the personal magnetism accompanying their delivery, it gives the pure Bible word elucidated only by a few sentences from a book which they have reason to consider specially entitled to confidence. ... We can see that a church of this kind demands very little organization to be fully equipped for service. ... It is good that some have set us the example of conducting a church so simply, and we wish our struggling frontier churches could hear of it." ^{The Christian Science Journal, September 1896, pp. 281–282 .}

In a sense the Church of Christ, Scientist, is still a frontier Church—on the spiritual frontier that is so important now for all mankind.

Once when Mrs. Eddy was invited to attend an exciting exposition in Chicago by her Christian Science students, she remarked, "I have a world of wisdom and Love to contemplate, that concerns me, and you, infinitely beyond all earthly expositions or exhibitions. In return for your kindness, I earnestly invite you to its contemplation with me, and to preparation to behold it." ^{Miscellaneous Writings, pp. 321–322.}

She knew that the Church she founded was not a matter of human options and opinions. It was the outcome in the first place of Spirit and would be continuously renewed by obedience to Spirit. Nothing else could supply the aliveness, energy, vital newness, warmth, and unity that are naturally part of following the Science of Christianity. To strive to walk in the steps of Christ Jesus now, at the edge of the twenty-first century in a scientific age, provides plenty of adventure.

When we remember that at the heart of this Church is a remarkable, Christian, spiritual discovery in which each one is participating, it drastically changes our impressions of what's valuable or necessary. We stop looking for ways to add excitement. We gain a new perspective on where we actually are and what we're doing. We recognize that we are living on the edge of a vast spiritual universe, as it were. And perhaps quite suddenly it dawns on us that we have the very Church we need—a Church whose unique purpose is to help open a door for humanity on a spiritual era.

Allison W. Phinney, Jr.