A fresh stretch of beach
Robin Hoagland | from the Christian Science Sentinel
Spiritual truth, recognized and lived, can replace every error or mistake we feel we’ve made.
Few things are as clean and inviting as a Cape Cod beach in early spring. Each walk begins on a pristine stretch of sand. Every footstep (and misstep) from the day before has been erased by the ebb and flow of another high tide.
As I leave my first tracks in a new direction, I find myself thinking of another spring on another shore many years ago. The mental picture is vivid. Swimming to land is a man burdened with guilt. His save-his-own-skin rashness had abandoned a best friend at a moment of greatest need. Waiting to greet him is that same friend—with a breakfast ready to share.
What turmoil Simon Peter must feel as he steps out of the water. He has denied he knew Jesus. He has forsaken the work he was called to do. But Peter’s anguish and self-condemnation gently give way to the irresistible joy of seeing the risen Christ.
As the other disciples join them on shore, Jesus offers a final lesson on the power of divine Love to lift us out of our mistakes and set us back on track.
It begins with a poignant question: “Do you love me?”
Jesus asks this of Peter not just once, but three times. Each is an opportunity for Peter to reaffirm—in front of everyone—a sincere devotion that cancels out the three angry denials of it before the crucifixion. In the process, Peter receives a broad commission to care for and shepherd others. Not only is the past resolved and left behind, but a new responsibility is bestowed upon him (see John 21:1–17).
He has been given a fresh stretch of beach.
Christianity owes much to those who knew what it was to make mistakes.
The subsequent Biblical record of Peter shows him fully committed to this life of love, a courageous example of leadership, teaching, and healing. Between his work and that of the Apostle Paul, another man with an imperfect past, the initial success of Christianity owes much to those who knew what it was to make mistakes—even spectacular ones.
Nobody’s perfect, right?
Most all of us have moments we regret. An e-mail that should never have been sent. A thoughtless comment. An impulse indulged. A measure of advice ignored. An unwise investment. A relationship that should never have started.
Sound familiar? Whether they occurred in our personal or professional lives, they fall into that catchall category of “errors in judgment.” We wince when we think of them. And if we’re not willing to follow Peter’s lead, they can entangle us in years of bitterness and grief.
Peter’s turnaround began when he was willing to look at himself from a spiritual perspective.
Peter wasn’t going to be able to pull himself up by his own bootstraps or disentangle himself from his own mistakes. Despite his best intentions, he was unreliable and ineffective on his own. His turnaround began when he was willing to look at himself from a new perspective, from a spiritual perspective. He needed to see what his Master saw in him.
Mary Baker Eddy wrote: “Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God’s own likeness …” (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, pp. 476–477). A perfect man? But nobody’s perfect, right?
While the whole world may object, Christian Science takes the radical position that man—meaning both the male and female of God’s creating—is in fact entirely spiritual, and therefore complete, whole, faultless, and truly perfect. The Bible begins with the tremendous declaration that God’s children are made in the divine image and likeness (see Gen. 1:26, 27). Like produces like. So each individual in God’s likeness would have to be exactly like God in every quality. Since God is Spirit, the divine likeness is spiritual. Since God is unchanging wisdom and goodness, the divine likeness is wise without exception and unfailingly good. There’s neither ability nor opportunity for a lapse in judgment or an error in action or a fall from grace.
Jesus brought this spiritual point of view to every situation.
Jesus brought this spiritual point of view to every situation where he was confronted with the picture of a flawed, sick, or sinning mortal. He wasn’t deceived by the appearance of things. Mist may conceal a mountain. But where others saw only the insubstantial mist of mortality, Jesus saw through it, to the rock-solid mountain of spirituality.
At the heart of his teaching is the nature of God as pure, unchanging Love. He taught that infinite Love feels as gentle, wise, and unconditional as a Father-Mother naturally should. That eternal Love acts intelligently and irresistibly to correct human errors, bringing physical and moral healing. And that all-powerful Love neutralizes every negative thought—every doubt, fear, jealousy, or hatred that could harm another or oneself.
Like sunshine on mountain mist, the warmth of Love melts the mental mist of our mistaken views, and reveals the true identity of each of us.
It was Love that Peter was compelled to acknowledge on that seashore long ago. The resurrection of his Master and his own rehabilitated status among the disciples were indisputable proofs of its immeasurable, thought-changing power. And as he recognized his innate ability to love, he began to grasp his true, spiritual nature. The image and likeness of divine Love is able only to love.
Not regretting, but forgiving and forgetting
Perhaps the hardest thing to do is love yourself when the mistakes you’ve made seem irreversible. Each time you rehearse them, you effectively add to that cold, dank cloud concealing your innocent divine likeness. But nothing can resist the power of God’s love. As Paul reassured his fellow Christians, “… sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace” (Rom. 5:20, The Message).
Grace is the love of God finding us in spite of ourselves.
Grace is not something we earn by trying to be better or do better. It’s the love of God finding us in spite of ourselves. It feels like forgiveness, but it’s really restoration. It says, “Whatever you think you were or did isn’t who you truly are. Now, prove to yourself that you’ve always been the son or daughter God knows you to be.”
So while regrets can be mesmerizing and keep us on an endless loop of guilt, grace gently but completely redirects attention to the perfect selfhood that is eternally blessed. Spiritual truth, recognized and lived, can replace every error or mistake we feel we’ve made. “All things will continue to disappear, until perfection appears and reality is reached. … When we learn that error is not real, we shall be ready for progress, ‘forgetting those things which are behind’” (Science and Health, p. 353).
Persistent prayer redeems the past
Sometimes that progress can seem impossible to imagine. One ill-advised decision spirals into an ever-widening circle of negative consequences. You could probably contribute your own examples. I remember when my husband and I were young parents. We brought an exuberant puppy into a tiny home, with our not-quite-one-year-old daughter. Despite the warnings of family and friends that this was not the time or place to add such complexity to our lives, we wanted a big dog to be part of a picture-perfect family life.
We had neither the time nor resources to train a puppy properly or keep her well exercised, and she began directing her enormous amounts of energy to destructive ends. Wallpaper was ripped off the walls and the furniture chewed, while her outdoor digging kept turning our little backyard into the muddy equivalent of a lunar landscape.
For months we tried to live like this, hoping things would get better as she got older. At that point, we’d signed an agreement to buy another house but needed to sell the one we were in. Then the housing market collapsed. And our dog-damaged property wasn’t looking very appealing to any buyers still out there.
I felt terribly guilty because I knew I’d been the driving force in acquiring this dog. She was very sweet but completely beyond what we could manage. Yet how could I now give away a family member? Anguish compounded with anxiety as the deadline to close on the other house rapidly approached, and we had no way to meet our financial obligations.
Grace began to shift my thoughts.
It was then that grace began to shift my thoughts. A Christian Science practitioner helped me pray more effectively to hear what God was calmly and kindly imparting to us. I began to realize that God’s love was infinite, and within that infinitude was space for an affectionate young dog to be fully loved. I finally felt a sense of peace about finding her a new home.
An ad in our local paper generated some interest in adopting her, but the first several people who came by declined. It was tempting to rehash that original decision to get a dog and be pulled back into the cycle of self-condemnation, but with further prayer I began to fully trust the power of Love to redeem past mistakes and reveal present possibilities.
Then they came. A mother and her slim, shy 12-year-old son. Their family lived on a large property with plenty of room to roam, and they were looking for a dog he could play with when he got home from school. Our pup took to him immediately, and he to her. Twenty minutes later, she was in their car, tail wagging, and on her way.
Not long after, we had just the right buyer for our house within the timing we needed, despite the bad market and the grim expectations of real estate agents. And a few years later (this time with humble prayer beforehand), another dog came into our lives that proved to be an ideal family companion for many years.
Prayer helps us listen to the voice of divine Love reminding us of our spiritual likeness to Love.
We’ve moved several times since then, including during other economic downturns. In hindsight—sure, we all make choices we wouldn’t choose again. But I learned from that early experience not to rue decisions made, not to look back with regret or forward with fear. Instead, prayer helps us listen to the voice of divine Love reminding us of our spiritual likeness to Love and revealing our inherent ability to love ourselves and others. Right now. Right at this moment.
No matter what happened yesterday or the day before, all that really counts is our present, permanent perfection as the children of God. Every mistake we think we’ve made gives way to that eternal spiritual fact. There’s a fresh stretch of beach for each one of us. And we’ll find ourselves moving forward after all.



Comments:
1. Shelagh Says:
I could hardly read this for the tears blinding me! I made a mistake saying something last week and have since been fearful of the concequences of that action.
Robin, your article has helped me to see, that in all of this, I am reacting to that fear and it is God\’s ever present Love I need to be grateful for not seeming personal loss to grieve for.
Thank you!
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