'Thou art there'
The year my mother took Primary class instruction in Christian Science, my parents arranged for my three brothers and me to stay with family. Mom’s brother had three girls, and I stayed with them. My brothers stayed with one of our aunts, who had four boys. Separate vacations! Could a teenage girl ask for more?
I was looking forward to swimming, playing the piano, going to the movies, and pleasant conversations about everything under the sun.
This was what I call the BCP era: before cellphones. But it was comforting when Mom said, “I’m only a phone call away.” And then she said something that’s stuck with me ever since. During the two-hour drive to my uncle’s home, Mom asked me to take a look at Psalm 139, verses 7–10 . She assured me that she would also be praying with these verses, knowing that I was perfectly safe and cared for every minute.
In that moment, it dawned on me that the Bible was a useful, practical resource, full of joy and comfort for every occasion. Mom’s example of relying on it and directing me to do so, too, impressed me. I could hardly wait to get to our destination so I could unpack my Bible and read those lines.
After I settled in with help from my cousins, there was a brief interlude of quiet. I took this opportunity to read: “Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.”
The phrase “thou art there” resonated deep within me; my spiritual sense and understanding quickened. I remembered reading these verses in the weekly Christian Science Bible Lesson over the years, but here was an opportunity to ponder them more deeply.
A clear sense of the ever-presence of God, divine Love, embraced me, then and there. A quiet assurance of my unity with God deepened. Since my earliest years, I had learned in Christian Science Sunday School classes that God was our true and only Parent. This idea of oneness with God, no matter where I traveled, near or far, brought a feeling of calm, quiet strength, and dominion. After studying the Lesson each morning during my vacation, I continued to ponder those verses.
My aunt, uncle, and cousins were thoughtful and loving during my stay. I did everything I could to be a considerate guest in their home. Love and laughter sweetened my visit. Then out of the blue my cousins’ Spanish teacher, Mrs. Rivera, called. As a special treat to her top four students, my cousins and two boys from their class, she had planned a day trip to Tijuana, Mexico. (Tijuana was about a two-hour drive from the house.) She told my aunt that the group would spend the day entirely in her watchful care, take in a bullfight and a jai alai game, window shop, and be treated to lunch and dinner. (The fast-moving jai alai game is like handball, but players use scoops to catch and throw the ball.)
My aunt mentioned that I was staying with the family, and Mrs. Rivera promptly included me in the invitation, as long as my mother approved. Within a day, we had her blessing and off we went.
After a happy day of sightseeing, shopping, and dining in Tijuana, our little group strolled down a well-lit street. A colorful window display caught my eye and I lagged behind. Suddenly, a strange man sidled up to me, put his hand on my waist, and started talking to me. I bolted away, rejoining my group. Then I turned and saw a small group of Americans, 20-somethings, laughing and joking. Apparently one of them had responded to a dare in approaching me.
It dawned on me that the Bible was a useful, practical resource, full of joy and comfort for every occasion.
But, again, “thou art there” meant something powerful to me: God, Spirit, is present everywhere. I realized that if God was truly All-in-all, there was no room in His allness and goodness for rudeness or wrongdoing. If there was truly an obnoxious mortal lurking somewhere, then God would be less than All. There would be a pocket of evil, or error, reducing God to a partial presence. But since God is everywhere, His man—Love’s loving, lovable reflection—continuously expresses divine goodness and purity. The appearance of wrongdoing is a lie about who we really are. So I quickly forgave the fellow and saw him as included in God’s presence, pure and upright. The rest of my vacation was full of happy memories. This sense of Love’s watchful care stayed with me.
Several years later, I was a young college student traveling alone in eastern Europe, behind the Iron Curtain (which fell nearly two decades later during the Velvet Revolution of 1989). During a brief stay at a hotel in downtown Prague, Czechoslovakia, I was walking back and forth from my room to the hall bathroom, getting ready for bed. It was my first experience with such an arrangement, since the hotel rooms I had stayed at in the United States always included private amenities.
I went back and forth several times, always carefully looking around before stepping into the hall. Finally, I was ready to get into bed. I returned to my room with an armful of towels and clothes. As I puttered around, a firm angel message instructed me to lock the door at once. Surprised, I turned around and strode swiftly to the door, locking it.
As I stepped away, a soft metallic rattle startled me. I turned around and saw the doorknob jiggle. I dashed to the door and heard heavy footsteps moving away from my room. When I looked through the peephole, the hallway was already empty. I never found out who had tried to get into the room, but I thanked God with all my heart for the message that kept me safe.
Some might say that it’s the quality of our thinking that exposes us to unpleasant or potentially threatening situations. It’s always good to be wise and alert, but believing we’ve “let” error into our experience is not productive. Self-condemnation is just mortal mind’s way of ensnaring us in guilt and regret. Christian Science teaches us to impersonalize error, rather than attach it to self.
The gentle reminder “thou art there” has been with me when I needed it most. It is the conscious recognition of divine Love’s ever-presence, guidance, encircling care, and tender embrace. I love to affirm regularly that there is nothing outside of infinite Love—no pockets of evil, no coincidences or narrow escapes. No matter where we are, the power of ever-present Love can nullify troublesome activity. This power shields and strengthens us.