Earlier this year I had the privilege of flying in a two-seat, open-cockpit biplane. We flew down the Pacific Coast at an altitude of about 2,200 feet, so we could see the ground below. Over the ocean hung a heavy mist, but inland it was very clear, bright, and sunny. There was almost a straight line between the two.
Earlier that day I had read the weekly Christian Science Bible Lesson, which was on the subject “Adam and Fallen Man.” That lesson included a citation from the second chapter of Genesis: “But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground” (verse 6). The mist, to me, was symbolic of mortal mind—error—creeping into thought and trying to make itself heard and believed. So often this error suggests that each of us is mortal, material, with no thought of spirituality at all. But then there is the clear, concise, spiritual truth in the first chapter of Genesis, which speaks of man as not material, but spiritual, made in the image and likeness of God (verses 26, 27). As we flew, I thought of how important is it to protect our thinking from mental mist: from negative, limiting thoughts that may come to us every day to be dealt with.
As I watched the mist drift inland, trying to hide the sunshine, I thought of something Mary Baker Eddy says in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. In the chapter “Footsteps of Truth,” she speaks about how false human beliefs disappear as we learn how false they are: “The false evidence of material sense contrasts strikingly with the testimony of Spirit. Material sense lifts its voice with the arrogance of reality and says:
“I am wholly dishonest, and no man knoweth it. I can cheat, lie, commit adultery, rob, murder, and I elude detection by smooth-tongued villainy. …” Then “material sense” goes on to say, “But a touch, an accident, the law of God, may at any moment annihilate my peace, for all my fancied joys are fatal” (p. 252).
As I thought about this, along came a breeze and blew away the mist, and it was a beautiful day up and down the coast. Sometimes that’s all it takes to disperse the cloudiness of thought—just one deep breath of spiritually pure air to blow away any false notions. It proves the opposing testimony in “Footsteps of Truth”: “I am Spirit,” it continues. “Man, whose senses are spiritual, is my likeness” (pp. 252–253).
—Newport Beach, California, US,