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Saturday, 20 June 2015

Mothering

Some thoughts on The Mother Church. (I wonder if any church has been nick-named the “Father Church”.)
This building and dedication of the Extension of The Mother Church we are reading about, could it be likened to eagles building their nests - and the eagles’ behaviour towards their young nestlings/fledglings? 
Hymn 207, Mother’s Evening Prayer, tells us that the idea was very much in our Leader’s thought: “Oh Gentle Presence…the nestling’s faltering flight…”   
I did a search about the Mother’s Evening Prayer poem. It was copyrighted in 1893.  Another fact that I was keen to know was whether the Original Mother Church was built before the poem was written. No. The building was dedicated in December 1894. I found this reference to the poem in Adelaide Still’s reminiscences in We Knew Mary Baker Eddy Vol. II – “Mrs. Sargent also told me that one evening Mrs. Eddy called her and said, “See what I have written, Laura.” Then she read to her “The Mother’s Evening Prayer” (see Miscellaneous Writings, p. 389) and told her that it had come to her during the past half hour. Very few changes were made to it.” – p. 482, no date given.
Prompted by the references to the eagle which “stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings: So the Lord alone did lead him…” in a recent Christian Science Lesson-Sermon, I went on a JSH-Online hunt to see what might have been written in the Christian Science periodicals about that topic. I came across this delightful piece which, very unusually, is not attributed to any author or publication –

"I am sure it was the Lord that led me to church that day”

From the February 1890 issue of The Christian Science Journal
"I am sure it was the Lord that led me to church that day. The sermon was all about the eagle stirring up her nest. The minister said that young eagles are timid and do not like to venture forth—are afraid to try their wings—and the old bird often stirs up her nest, and destroys her home entirely, if necessary, so that they shall learn to use their wings. And then, if they still refuse to make the attempt, the eagle pushes them off the high, rocky ledge and soars away, and pretends to forget them—flying upward until she is a mere speck in the blue sky. He told how the little eaglets, forced to use their wings, do the best they can to save themselves and to follow their mother. Apparently alone and forsaken, with the mother-bird far, far above them, they must fly or be beaten to death on the rocks! But let the wings of one of those eaglets begin to tremble with real weakness, and the bird begin to fall—swift as lightning the mother-bird darts down from her immense height, swoops under the little fledgling, and bears him up on her strong wings to herself. Forgotten? Not a bit of it! Only being taught the lesson necessary to its life."

On Thursday, I spent the morning in our Reading Room. There I found a book I hadn’t realised was there – the first bound volume of The Christian Science Journal. I had a wonderful time with it. Mrs. Eddy herself was the Editor and how she must have worked to produce it! There is so much to indicate the way the Cause of Christian Science was built up. We find articles that have been included in her Prose Works, including all those wonderful questions and answers in Miscellaneous Writings. There are many un-attributed pieces such as the above (it appears some 7 years later in the Journal). There are jokes about how stupid mortal mind is. I wrote down one piece, presented as a dialogue (http://journal.christianscience.com/issues/1883/10/1-4/a-little-nonsense-now-and-then):

                Sceptic: “Have you tried the faith-cure?”
                Believer: “I have.”
                S: “Do you believe in it?”
                B: “I do.”
                B: “Certainly, I was cured of my faith.”

At that time Mrs. Eddy advertised that she, “receives calls Monday to Friday 3-5 p.m. This was 1883.


I find I have not answered the questions I asked at the beginning.  Perhaps something will develop…

Joyce Voysey

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