A SIGNIFICANT GIFT TO GIVE SOCIETY this Christmas is yourself—as a healer. Some people are pondering this public commitment. Others are doubtful. Not that this wouldn’t be a wonderful way to give. Of course it would. But an impression about Christ Jesus, about Mary Baker Eddy, about some of their fellow Christian Scientists, could hold back those who are unsure.

The roots of hesitancy might lie in the tendency to compare. We may remember great lecturers, teachers, writers, healers in the movement—how could we do what they have done? Or what Mrs. Eddy did as a Christian healer? And to heal as Christ Jesus did? No way! We may doubt because we haven’t taken account of what might be called the modesty/majesty complement.

Comparisons easily push us off track, especially comparing our own relatively modest efforts with the majesty of others. Christ Jesus would be the classic example. How do you think of him? Likely you would start with the Bible’s portrayal. It virtually lifts him to a pinnacle, anointed and appointed by God Himself.

How natural to think of Jesus, who fed thousands, as the consummate demonstrator of power. He opened blind eyes. Leprosy disappeared with his touch. He dealt adroitly with sophisticated Pharisees as well as the barbarity of a mob. He lifted people right out of death. It isn’t easy to think of Christ Jesus in any but ultimate terms. It’s hard not to see him as anything but a spiritual giant. How could any of us think literally of following his example? And yet, that’s what he called for—in fact, he expected even “greater works” ((John 14:12).

Is it possible this might and power, spiritual strength and dominion, may point more to the Christ? Perhaps Jesus might have been better known for his humility. Could it be that childlikeness and, maybe, a huge portion of down-to-earth normalcy characterized him? Might he have done a bit of carpentry work between healings!

Jesus was inseparable from the Christ. And yet, if we think of the human man in terms that are so colossal, we may miss him. Those mighty accomplishments that the Bible portrays illustrate the effect of the Christ. And all the meek quietness Jesus expressed reveals someone childlike enough to receive the Christ.

Jesus was the ultimate servant. We call him Master, but he lived as a servant. He was more likely to be found breaking bread in a humble home than expounding on intellectual issues in a university. He talked the language of fishermen and farmers. He fixed breakfast. He washed feet. He wasn’t always respected. He was mocked, spit on, executed as a common criminal. Christ Jesus’ life was a profound melding of meekness and might, of the human and the divine, of the man Jesus and the divinity of the Christ.

If we try to imitate Jesus as a mighty human person, we won’t get far. But if we can catch a glimpse of the modesty of his life, following his example is feasible. And the potency of Christ is just as real for us as for him.

This issue of how Jesus’ modesty and Christ’s majesty coincide may teach us something vital. It could give us courage to be healers. We don’t need a majestic human life. Modesty, as Jesus expressed it, will do. It is our surrender to the Christ that infuses the humble person with greatness. It is Christ that every one of us expresses and that will enable us to demonstrate what Mrs. Eddy calls, “… the majesty of the meekness of the Christ-principle” (The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, p. 149).

If you had peeked into the daily life of any great individual who yielded to the Christ, you might have seen a lot of the modesty you yourself already express. In some respects, the best Christian Science healer can be the most normal and ordinary person on earth. Nevertheless, beneath that ordinariness is a receptivity that welcomes the power of the healing Christ. And welcomes the occasion to express it as a gift to the world.

You might remain a very modest person, but the majesty of the Christ you manifest will change the world.