Classical music lovers are no doubt familiar with Gustav Mahler, the late 19th century Bohemian-Austrian composer. Much of Mahler’s music was written amid personal tragedies, including the passing of his beloved daughter, Maria. When listening to a Mahler composition, one is struck by the transcendent and gently comforting swirls of music that speak of something perhaps inexpressible by words.

Into this place between words—where the heart is broken or the wisdom of the world is impotent to solve a dilemma we may be facing—the Christ enters.

Mary Baker Eddy, the Discoverer and Founder of Christian Science, offers a profoundly helpful definition of the Christ in her book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. She writes, “Christ is the true idea voicing good, the divine message from God to men speaking to the human consciousness” (p. 332). Providing further insight she writes, “The advent of Jesus of Nazareth marked the first century of the Christian era, but the Christ is without beginning of years or end of days” (p. 333). How comforting to know that the forever Christ is constantly performing its tender duties. 

How exactly does the Christ operate in our daily lives? How does the Christ reach where the heart has been broken or where the confusion of circumstance plagues us?

The Bible is filled with accounts of the Christly influence in people’s lives. From the dramatic intervention of an angel message to Abraham when he was pursuing the mistaken path of sacrificing his loved son (see Genesis 22:12), to the divinely impelled quest by a woman with “an issue of blood” to touch Jesus’ robe in order to be healed (see Matthew 9:20), this holy power continues through the ages, redirecting and affirming our state of being and acquainting us more immediately with our true spiritual nature, and that of those around us. 

The entry of this invisible power in our lives need not be grand. It may come as a gentle wash of gratitude for present goodness. It may come as a powerful lesson from nature, transmitted without words. It may be the tender forgiveness of a child whose purity rearranges our priorities in an instant. However the Christ enters, it never leaves us where it found us. 

Recently, a businesswoman arrived at the airport for a ten-hour trans-Atlantic flight. Despite her independent nature, she found herself overcome with deep loneliness when she realized she wasn’t sure who to list on the airline’s emergency contact form. Divorced for many years with children going about their young adult lives, and friends whom she could not expect to retain details of her ever-changing itinerary, she suddenly felt completely alone in the world. In addition, there were thunderstorms predicted along the flight route, and terror alerts had been heightened. 

Standing right there in the middle of the airport terminal, she turned wholeheartedly to God. In the place where no poetry could answer her deepest yearning for comfort and affirmation, she petitioned for her Father’s aid. In response came the thought, “You are never separated from God.” She recognized that the grief she felt was a belief that she could be separated from divine Love. The truth of her inseparability from her Father-Mother God flooded her consciousness. Not only did the loneliness instantly vanish, but she was filled with calm assurance that the flight itself, no matter how long, could not threaten her peaceful coexistence with her Maker. Happy and free, she boarded the plane with newfound peace. The flight proved to be smooth. Her business trip was a success and included several happy phone calls to her children.

Many of us may know these places between words—the small or dramatic moments in our lives when we yearn to see evidence of the kingdom of heaven on earth; of divine intervention or just a whisper of God’s presence. Right at these times, the Christ is present to guide, gentle, or adjust the present circumstance. This activity of the Christ has the precision to excise, nullify, or amplify whatever needs to be addressed. Leaving untouched all that is spiritually sound, this ever-active influence changes our consciousness, and thus has a ripple effect in our lives.

We can feel the presence of the Christ wherever we may be.

Christ Jesus gave us a parable in the Bible about our worthiness to be recipients of the Christ’s healing intervention, no matter our circumstances. The central character in this parable is a young man, the prodigal son. This son did quite a bit of partying. He spent a lot of money during escapades with his inheritance. He probably did not use the manners he had been taught, think about his career path, or consider sending messages home. He ended up tending to swine. And the parable points out that he thought about eating the swine’s food.

Jesus continued the parable with this momentous string of words. “And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father” (Luke 15:17, 18).

The rest, as they say, is history. From here the young man goes home, humbled; reunites with his father—transforming himself and his family. He is changed. This illustrative parable, provided by the Master himself, instructs us on how the Christ operates—appearing within our own consciousness to comfort, guide, redeem. It reassures us of man’s innate worthiness to receive its holy influence. 

Sometimes, messages from the Christ may be in whispers—small inclinations about which next step to take; which way to go. At other times, the moment may require a shift so dramatic that we are lifted out of an experience in a way we could never have planned ourselves. Whatever the form, this God-impelled influence is sure to present itself in such a manner that uniquely reaches us where we are. 

Abraham, the woman with the “issue of blood” in need of healing, and the businesswoman at the airport all had the same access to the Christ. It is God’s gift to His creation; to men, women, and children throughout all time, and in every place and state of life. 

In reality, there is no place the Christ cannot enter. We can listen for and feel the presence of the Christ wherever we may be. In this place between words—whether marked by tenderness, fragility, confusion, or loneliness—we find it is, in reality, already filled.

How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given;
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meekness will receive him, still 
The dear Christ enters in.
(Phillips Brooks, Christian Science Hymnal, No. 222)