Article April 22, 2013 ISSUE

Challenge the premise

Madora Kibbe

One morning I looked out the breakfast room window in our high-rise apartment and saw a familiar outline at a desk in the office building across from us—a round shape very close to a computer screen, seemingly lost in thought.

“There he is again,” I said to my husband, pointing firmly. “He works such long hours.”

My husband looked up from his New York Times, assessed the situation carefully, and said, “That’s a basketball.” 

“What do you mean? No one’s dribbling a ball.”

My husband shook his head. “Your friend’s not playing basketball. He is a basketball.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely ... right! That’s a basketball on a desk next to a computer
screen.”

On that particular morning, what I thought I saw wasn’t really occurring. And once I’d seen the truth—that innocent, underworked ball—it was impossible for me to see a man sitting at a desk. 

Yes, I was embarrassed. But that silly little moment made clear to me something I’d been thinking about for several days before the basketball “event.” The words challenge the premise had been coming to thought, and my window-gazing was a good, if small, example of what that phrase means.

So often we accept a premise as true; and once that decision is made, look out! It might be the belief that illness, unhappiness, unemployment, or inharmony of any kind are real. Then everything that flows from that premise seems logical, solid, and difficult to overcome. Or as Mary Baker Eddy once wrote, “If the premise of mortal existence is wrong, any conclusion drawn therefrom is not absolutely right” (Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, p. 288 ). As Christian Science teaches, when we challenge the premise—the belief in a power apart from God—we see reality, which is always only good.

A few nights later, I awoke from a sound sleep with a very sore throat. I began to pray, but I also found myself wondering if I should get up and get a glass of water, worrying that this might be the beginning of a cold or something worse. Then I thought: “Challenge the premise. This isn’t a sore throat. It’s a basketball!”

I laughed, even though at that moment I felt as though I’d swallowed a basketball. But the belief that a physical symptom had power or authority over me was no more a reality than the illusion that the basketball had been a man. I didn’t have to change or fix anything. I simply had to challenge the premise. 

I mentally affirmed that nothing could separate me from the love of God. I knew that what it says in the first chapter of Genesis, that “God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good” (verse 31 ), was a spiritual fact that could stand and defeat any challenge. That premise, that promise, of God’s sheer, dependable goodness was true. 

I woke up the next morning completely healed. In fact I practically bounced out of bed—which it goes without saying had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with a basketball, and everything to do with feeling good, or rather, feeling God’s undeniable presence.

About the author

Madora McKenzie Kibbe is a Christian Science practitioner who lives in New York.

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