The scene: a bustling downtown street in a large American city.

Walking briskly, I was about to enter a very narrow, temporary walkway, which fronted a new office building under construction. Suddenly I saw that a messenger on a bicycle was in the walkway headed toward me. My instant impulse was to move right into the walkway and force him to go by me. (I belonged there; he didn't!) And that's what I did.

As he squeezed by, he muttered sarcastically, "That was intelligent!" I called back self-righteously, "Who had the right of way?" Then I heard him yell, and I sensed danger.

At that very instant I realized that this rude behavior on my part wasn't at all my normal attitude. I immediately changed my view. My thinking went substantially like this: "Anger is no part of anyone's true being. In my own thought I must separate anger from myself and others. I must know that the anger, or evil, is a lying suggestion of the waking dream of life in matter; because it has no God in it, there is no power in it." The messenger continued on his way, and no incident took place. Reconciliation, which the world so desperately needs, had in this small incident replaced the potential violence that seems to be so much a part of our times.

Actually, I had been at fault, because I knew better. I had been made to react by impersonal evil—a phase of what Mrs. Eddy calls animal magnetism. I had thought and spoken in a manner unnatural to my true nature as God's expression.

Instead of giving in to human will, I should have waited a few seconds for the messenger to clear the walkway before I entered. Further, I should have realized that his sarcastic jibe at me was justified; it hadn't been very intelligent of me to crowd him. Beyond this, I had been enticed by error to make a self-righteous remark that could have led to trouble. Mrs. Eddy says: "Animal magnetism, in its ascending steps of evil, entices its victim by unseen, silent arguments. Reversing the modes of good, in their silent allurements to health and holiness, it impels mortal mind into error of thought, and tempts into the committal of acts foreign to the natural inclinations." ^{The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, p. 211.}

Admitting my mistake, I repented. I considered what evil would have accomplished, had I let it: it would have interfered with a useful day by causing a dangerous incident involving unpleasant consequences.

I vigorously, prayerfully applied specific truths in Christian Science to know that evil intent cannot be accomplished in God's kingdom. Establishing the allness and perfection of God in my consciousness, I started back on the right track. From there I moved to seeing myself as God's individual expression of Himself, absolutely at one with God in my true and only being. Then I took a stand that I could not be made to make mistakes. (By this time it became easy to see my fellowman more as God sees him—perfect, whole, and rightly governed by Him.) A warm sense of peace and joy swept over me. As I went on about my business, I determined to be alert not to make similar mistakes again.

What is our protection against being made to react in a manner unnatural to us?

First of all, students of Christian Science are taught to defend their thinking against evil each day. This isn't hard to do, because on the basis of the allness of God, there is no real evil. But we must clearly do it each day, because like a mirage, evil appears real until we truly recognize its unreality. When we reduce it to zero, we've done our job. Mrs. Eddy says, "Christian Scientists, be a law to yourselves that mental malpractice cannot harm you either when asleep or when awake." ^{Science and Health, p. 442.}

These days, people the world over long to be lifted above the realm of violence and hatred. Love and helpfulness, courtesy and comfort, are so desperately needed. And they start with each of us. On the streets, in our cars, our homes, our offices, our factories; in the supermarket, the laundry, at restaurants; at sporting events, at concerts—everywhere, we must broaden our love and resist the impulse to react negatively.

This challenge is not new of course. A supreme example of meeting it was given by Christ Jesus when he was captured the night before his crucifixion. His disciples reacted violently. But Jesus healed the man whose ear had been cut off by Peter. Jesus' loving, healing attitude, which reflected his constant awareness of man's oneness with God, contributed to his glorious victory.

When we understand more of true scientific being, we will be able to more consistently see God's man, rather than a mortal counterfeit—sarcastic and angry, or otherwise. Mrs. Eddy says, "The understanding of Truth and Love, the Principle which works out the ends of eternal good and destroys both faith in evil and the practice of evil, leads to the discernment of the divine idea." ^{Ibid., p. 561.}

As we prayerfully and diligently work to grow in this understanding, we reach the place where we know that, as the actual expression of all-knowing divine Mind, God, we already possess the needed understanding. Then we're alert to defend this understanding from the dream shadows of a counterfeit, trouble-causing mortal mind. If we do our job, we're protected! And we'll be doing something significant toward ending violence and bringing about a safer, happier, better world.