I GREW UP in a military family, and we moved around a lot. Despite the frequent moves, my mom always made sure I was enrolled in a Sunday School—Congregational at first, Methodist later.

I vividly remember reciting Psalm 24, verses 7—10, out loud from memory when I was quite young. They begin, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in...." I also remember a very kindly minister approving of my having done that. Few other details remain of that childhood experience. But at some point I began to think of the Bible not only as beautiful poetry but as literature, full of characters and events that had life lessons to teach.

When I went to college, I started questioning a lot of things, including religion. In my science classes, I was learning to view truth as a discovery that diligent students could prove for themselves and thus make their own. I don't think this caused me to agonize over whether Bible stories were literally true or not, because the Bible's value to me was not as a history book. For example, the story of Paul's God-impelled escape from prison had the same life lessons to teach whether Paul ever existed or his escape ever happened (see Acts 16:19—40). But I could no longer accept a religion that was based merely on authority.

During my time of questioning, I met a Christian Scientist (I'd never heard that there was such a denomination as Christian Science), and began to study writings by Mary Baker Eddy, who I soon learned began the Christian Science movement. Mrs. Eddy's answers to religious questions attracted me from the outset. But I also found her approach to the Bible compatible with my own. She, too, loved the poetry of the Bible, and saw its characters and events as having life lessons to teach.

Once, in answer to the question, "How do you know that there ever was such a man as Christ Jesus?" Mrs. Eddy replied: "I do not find my authority for Christian Science in history, but in revelation. If there had never existed such a person as the Galilean Prophet, it would make no difference to me. I should still know that God's spiritual ideal is the only real man in His image and likeness" (The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, pp. 318—319).

As a young physics student, I found that proving for myself that man was made in the image and likeness of God (see Gen. 1:27) was religion I could embrace. At the same time, Mrs. Eddy's writings encouraged me to continue to learn the life lessons taught by Bible characters and events. For these reasons, I began to read the Bible and Mrs. Eddy's writings, together, every day, and I've continued to do so ever since.

When I read the Scriptures, I still feel that I enter another world—a world of characters, events, and lessons—old and new. Conversely, my visits to the Bible world are often reflected in my own creative imagination.

Here's an example. Some years ago, the office where I worked was put under a lot of stress. One day, walking to work, I was wondering how I was going to deal with the most challenging day yet. As a long-time Bible reader, I even began to think of arriving at work as being like entering a lions' den. Almost immediately, however, I imagined myself accompanied on my morning walk by several large, tawny-colored lions. Of course, they were only mental images, but they were vivid, and I thought I could even feel their short, bristly fur.

Right away, Bible imagery helped me pray. I knew that those imaginary companions represented the day's ferocious challenges, rendered harmless by God. Similar to the way God turned a Biblical snake into a staff on which Moses could lean (see Ex. 4:1—4), in my imagination the symbols of my challenges were turned into silent and even comforting symbols of God's loving care. In my case, I could say of my fears, "My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths" (Dan. 6:22). And when I got to work, I found that the challenges themselves were gradually turned into proofs of God's care.

I'm as fascinated as anybody about the archeology of the Holy Land, and I love the Bible as literature, especially the poetry of the psalms that I encountered at such an early age. But, at least so far, it's the Bible's world of characters and events with life lessons to teach that means the most to me.