Something New in a Concentric Perspective

Eric Butterworth is so clever with titles and metaphors that sometimes I need to look up words in the dictionary to make sure I understand what he is saying. Merriam-Webster defines "concentric" as, 'having a common center (such as concentric circles).'

In his book titled, "The Concentric Perspective" (subtitled "What's in it from me"), Butterworth tells us that in order to understand concentrics, we should "draw two intersecting lines that form two cones touching at the points, indicating the inmost center where Being is in the process of being you" (The Concentric Perspective 61). This helps me to understand the subtitle, and his use of the concentric metaphor to emphasize, with a visual, that there is a point of us that touches God. Unfortunately, when I think of concentric circles, I think of circles that nest one inside the other, like Russian Babushka dolls. But I get the idea, and Butterworth uses different scenarios to instruct us on the use of the 'concentric perspective.'

There are so many great chapters in this book -- that's Eric Butterworth for you, even when his metaphors don't work, his teaching is still a light in the darkness (pardon the metaphor). Why is that? It is because Eric Butterworth empowers us. My two favorite chapters are chapter 4, "Giving and Forgiving" and Chapter 7, "From Will to Willingness."

In chapter 4, Butterworth illustrates how we can be forgiving of someone who is particularly difficult. He tells us, "Do you recall the first time you tried to catch a baseball? You held your arms rigid, and when the ball reached your hands, you grabbed at it tightly as though fighting it. This resulted in bruised fingers or stinging hands, and usually a dropped ball. But, when you eventually learned the correct technique, you held your arms loose, and when the ball touched your hands, you grasped it gently but firmly and allowed your arms to give slightly with the forward motion of the ball" (Ibid. 38-39). Butterworth explains that just as we learn to catch a ball, using forward motion to gently go with it; we can 'keep our emotions flexible, absorbing the sting without hurting ourselves.' I think this teaching is classic Butterworth 'go with the flow' theology that also seeks to remind us that it is not what happens to us that matters, but what we do with it.

My favorite teaching, however, is in chapter seven, "From Will to Willingness." I await my teacher and classmates concurrence, but I do not recall in the books we read, Butterworth ever talking about 'God's will.' God's will is a subject difficult for Unity practitioners because it implies a separate God that randomly lays down good or bad for us. Butterworth says it this way: "[God's will] comes from an erroneous concept that God has a mind separate from yours and mine, and that, out of some capricious intent, God may will something contradictory to the desires of our hearts" (Ibid. 76). I don't know about you, but I love the words, "the desires of our hearts." Do you mean to tell me that God's will is the desire of my heart? Here is what Eric says, "It is important to wake up to the realization that the will of God could never intend for us anything other than that which is highest and best ... It is the natural flow of the life process ... The will of God is the ceaseless longing of the Creator to perfect Himself in that which is created" (Ibid. 76).

In our Pastoral Counseling class, we are reading John Sanford's, The Kingdom Within. I remarked to a few students who were in both classes that Sanford's ideas are so brilliant, that next to The Kingdom Within, one of Butterworth's books seems a bit light weight. (That is a term we use at the law firm to mean not so smart.) But guess what? Butterworth tells us in the above quote what it takes Sanford an entire chapter (chapter 2, "The Treasure of the Kingdom of God") to relate in his book: We here to both find the treasure that is the Kingdom of God and to enrich it through the 'desires of our hearts.'

I have truly enjoyed reading Eric Butterworth this term, and I will miss him until the next time I take or teach one of his books. One thing I know to be true: "The ultimate gift to you is God's gift of the creative flow of the whole being of God" (Ibid. 113). Eric Butterworth lived these words, and so can I.

Butterworth Breaks the Sabbath

"Metamorality" was formerly published under the title, "How to Break the Ten Commandments," a more attention-getting title in my view. Eric Butterworth is known for his plays on words and for his catchy book titles. In renaming the book "Metamorality," Eric suggests he will go beyond the traditional, moralistic views of the Ten Commandments to metaphysical interpretations of them -- in a way 'breaking' them.

The Fourth Commandment asks us to keep the Sabbath day holy by not working on it. For orthodox Jews, this means preparing the Saturday meal on Friday before sundown, and not driving, turning on lights or talking on the phone from Friday evening through Saturday evening. (This must be very inconvenient!) Eric asks us to consider which day of the week is truly the Sabbath -- is it Saturday as Jews and Seventh Day Adventists would claim, or is it Sunday? This is a perfect segue to discuss the true or 'meta' meaning of the Sabbath.

First, though, I wish to comment on Eric's theology. He says that, "the commandments were created by Moses as important guidelines for primitive people" ("Metamorality" 49). So Eric adheres to the traditionalist view that Moses wrote the Torah. I wonder if he does this for those folks reading his book who are less liberal in their theology. Or perhaps Eric was unfamiliar with modern Bible scholarship and archeology? I noticed that Eric used more Hebrew, Aramaic and other etymological references in this book than in previous books. Granted, he was talking about the Hebrew Bible so the Hebrew references were logical; but he seemed to use them to enhance his writing, perhaps to make it appear more 'scholarly'?

Back to Eric's meaning of the Sabbath. He calls the Sabbath observation "important as a metronome of balance" (Ibid. 50). He suggests it provides balance to the hectic American way of life. He says that the true Sabbath does not involve just attending Sunday services, but a change in a way of life. It is the "'pause that refreshes'" (Ibid. 51). I really like the description of the businessman who carves prayer time every morning at 10. This prayer time is what our "Daily Word" team is doing for Unity Institute departments to help them to spiritually connect with the inner presence of God and with each other before they delve into their work day. A friend of mine at the law firm where I worked for many years, knowing I am of Turkish ancestry once laughingly remarked that the attorneys should bow and pray seven times a day, as the Muslims do. At the time I thought it would vastly improve the atmosphere of the firm, which can get a bit adversarial at times!

So, again, back to the Sabbath as Eric defines it, this calls for a change in our way of life. If we recognize the Sabbath in each of our days, we are, essentially, praying. Eric says, "To keep the Sabbath holy means to do all that you do in the awareness if inner power, and thus to have frequent silent parentheses to remember our oneness with the divine flow" (Ibid. 54). Eric coins a word to describe this, "creative resting" (Ibid.). He also says it is okay to fall asleep while meditating (thank heavens I no longer need feel guilty about this!), as it simply means we needed the sleep. But when we awaken, we should resume creative resting. Essentially, this chapter is about "breaking the traditional shell" of the meaning of the Sabbath as adhering to forced inactivity or attendance at Sunday services, and, instead, "get in tune with life's universal rhythm through regular periods of creative resting" (Ibid. 55-56). He also reminds us that practicing the presence of God calls for commitment and daily practice (Ibid. 56).

I agree with Eric's metaphysical interpretation of the Sabbath as a practice of the presence of God anytime of the week, and so does Jesus. I have just been reading the Bible story of the 'Healing at the Pool of Bethesda' in which Jesus tells a man to pick up his bed (i.e., tells the man to work), and walk, on the Sabbath. Never mind that Jesus just healed a man who had been lame for at least 38 years, the Jews in the temple criticize him for inciting a man to break the Sabbath. To this, Jesus responds that his Father works on the Sabbath and so does He (John 5:1-18 NAS). It is not Jesus but God working in and through the man that creates the healing -- on the Sabbath or on any other day. I rather wish Eric had used this story in his chapter; but Eric is right about one thing: Jesus was a "rebel"! (Ibid. 57)

Eric Butterworth Forgets His Truth ... Negatrend

Today, I had lunch with a very interesting woman from my church in Kansas City, Southeast Unity Church. She knew Eric Butterworth for years; in fact, he married her to her second husband. She said while Eric was minister at Avery Fisher Hall, in New York City, she, along with many others, came from wherever they were on the East Coast to make his 11 a.m. Sunday Service.

Although Eric Butterworth wasn't a fan of after Service fellowship gatherings, he did host a week-long retreat each summer, during the week of the Fourth of July. The retreat was held at a liberal arts college in Pennsylvania. My friend recalls the college had a rose garden reminiscent of Myrtle Fillmore's Rose Garden at Unity Village, and a swimming pool at the far end of the campus, away from the dorms. Each morning, retreaters would meet in small groups to discuss various Unity teachings. Eric was a firm believer that afternoons should be their own, and they would swim or simply walk through the lovely grounds. But it was the evening sessions that were really special; they were lead by Eric Butterworth, himself (can you imagine that?!) One twelve-hour period of each retreat was silent. It began at 9 p.m., after Butterworth finished speaking, and ended at 9 a.m., after breakfast the following day.

One summer, the first evening they were at the retreat, Eric recounted a particularly interesting story. He had recently purchased a German car that was 'burglar proof.' Well, just as he closed the trunk with all of the retreat materials in it, he realized -- his keys were in the trunk! AND the car was locked. Eric lost his Truth in that minute, and for several minutes afterward. It took his wife, Olga, to remind him to give the situation to God (or at least the gardener) because she suggested that the gardener could open a car window with a coat hanger. Of course, the German car could not be broken into that way! Eric tried contacting the dealership -- he even called the automaker in Germany -- to no avail, the replacement key would not arrive until after the retreat had begun. Eric was distraught, he was about to rent a van and drive to Pennsylvania, despite the pleadings of Olga for Eric to "remember his Truth" -- when the gardener finally opened the car. Eric happily drove to Pennsylvania, retreat materials in tow.

To the retreaters' amazement, Eric recounted this story the first night of the retreat. I recount it here because after reading book after book by Butterworth, I was beginning to get numb. I felt Butterworth's theology, though uplifting was a bit glib -- as if nothing really bad ever happened in Greenwich, Connecticut, to test his faith. I now know Eric Butterworth to be aware of his shortcomings, and in his own German-car-Greenwich-CT-way, humble about them.

One other story from my friend -- also about a Fourth of July retreats. She said her very first retreat, Eric had spoken on the actual Fourth of July, and then everyone had gone into the silent portion of the retreat. Perhaps it was because it was her first retreat, or perhaps it was the fireworks bursting in the sky all around her; but the scene was surreal, and my friend was floating on air. She saw some friends come towards her, and as one leaned over to hug her, she experienced her friend's arms as twenty feet long. Here is the really amazing part: she could see her friend's heart beating. Then, another friend's, and another's. Finally, Eric, Olga and a retreat coordinator came towards her, and it was the same experience: their outstretched arms stretched twenty feet, their hearts beat visibly -- and, meanwhile, lights burst everywhere.

My friend returned to her room and was unable to tell her friend/roommate of her amazing and mystical experience. But the next morning after breakfast -- she let loose!

* * * *

Negatrend: Eric's misperception that the keys being locked in the trunk would keep him from attending the retreat, providing the materials, etc.: "If you lose your inner center and become immersed in the things of the world, you will be pushed and pulled, and you will feel lost ... Often the cause of pressure and strain is the burden of responsibilities, the clock and the calendar ..." (PosiTrends or negatrends? Chapter 4).

Positrend: Olga's reminder to Eric of his Truth -- that God would take control of the situation: "Instead of battering doors, I use a key" (Ibid. Chapter 8).

Also, my friend's mystical experience on the Fourth of July, which was a true experience of love: "Let there be respect for the divinity within people establishing love and rotherhood in all relationships" (Ibid. Chapter 11).

Eric Butterworth's Overriding Theology: "Stress cannot be measured by the external circumstances with which a person must contend but rather by his or her reaction to those circumstances" (Ibid. Chapter 5). This is a core Unity teaching, and perhaps a Christian one, too. Didn't Jesus say we should follow Him?

A Creative Life in Seven Easy Steps

Eric Butterworth's The Creative Life is a tutorial for how to create a fulfilled life in seven "easy" steps. Butterworth reminds us -- with the use of metaphysical interpretation -- that the story of Genesis (Genesis 1:1-2:2) is the story of each of our creation. This teaching is a common Unity practice, taught in Spiritual Enrichment Education ("The Creative Process in the Bible") and at various churches. It is 'old school' Unity at its best.

No matter how many times I use this seven-step process, I find new inspiration. Butterworth asks us in the prologue: "Is there any better tool for understanding the self and discovering the secrets of the universe than the Bible?" And to this question, I answer, no. The Bible is one of the finest tools for self-discovery I have found. Butterworth's theology has never been more simply stated than in The Creative Process; he even provides a meditation at the end of each of the seven chapters (or steps) that we can use to deepen our understanding.

The following is a synopsis of the first three chapters, as I understand them. It is Butterworthian theology put to practical use, and though simply stated, its implementation is not always a simple process. That is the mystery of metaphysical Bible interpretation, and the the reason The Creative Life is so conducive to personal growth.

Chapter 1. "Let There be Light." Butterworth tells us our inner light is not a tiny beam, but the entirety of "God-light" present at the point of each of us (TCL 8). He says we should acknowledge this light as our "inner illumination," which is divine expression (love) and our divine guidance (Ibid. 9). Butterworth's theology parallels the teaching of the first Unity Principle, which is that of our Oneness with God. The light has nothing to do with the outer expression of light, but everything to do with the inner expression of God in each of us. Butterworth uses the example of a blind man who looked inward for inspiration, which he discovered was God's love (Ibid. 16). Butterworth also tells us to look within for creative expression, like Brahms and other creative geniuses. This chapter speaks to the Twelve Powers of "Power" and "Love," which result from the recongition of our Oneness, and which are represented so well in this first Genesis scripture.

Butterworth ends with the meditation that breathes in "God is," and breathes out "I AM" (Ibid. 19). I would modify this meditation to breathe in "Let there be light," and breathe out "I AM the light."

Chapter 2. "Let There be a Firmament." Butterworth uses the "firmament" as an allegory for "faith." He says that just as science has discovered that the universe is limitless, so the Genesis story allegorizes that our faith is limitless (Ibid. 29). Butterworth tells us, "There is no limitation to your power, only a lack of awareness of it" (Ibid. 33). He says turning up your faith is like turning up the rheostat to the dining room light: the person with the rheostat on full tilt is the person accessing the most faith (Ibid.).

Butterworth compares faith to the watermelon seed: you cannot see the birth of a watermelon in the seed, but you know it is there. Like Charles Fillmore, Butterworth defines faith as the 'perceiving power of mind to create substance,' a paraphrase of Hebrews, "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). Butterworth proves his conjectures of 'unseen faith' with an affirmation to close the chapters: "One thing is certain: To the person with an unshakable faith that something wonderful is going to happen, something wonderful is happening" (TCL 40). I could write a sermon around that teaching.

Butterworth uses the metaphor of radio waves as a meditation. He says, "As an exercise, contemplate your responsibility of tuning your mind to the right frequency. No matter what you may be experiencing, you always have a choice (Ibid. 43). This teaching parallels the third Unity Principle: Thoughts in mind create after their kind. He tells us to practice actively adjusting thought stations to health, guidance, etc.

Chapter 3. "Let the Dry Land Appear." This chapter reflects Jesus' teaching to not judge by appearances, but judge with righteous judgment (Butterworth quotes this scripture on p. 53). Butterworth also tells us to use our power of Imagination. He says just as land appeared from the waters, our good appears to us: "The third step in the creative process, then, the creation of dry land from the surrounding waters deals with imaging from the inside out--what can be called the I AMaging process" (Ibid. 51). Butterworth says we must use our power of Judgment in our imaging, because worry is a misuse of imaging. And it is important to employ our other Twelve Power faculties in our seven-step process: our faculty of Faith, for example, when worry comes forward in the imaging process (Ibid. 54).

I particularly liked Butterworth's mention that the nervous system does not know if we are pretending to experience or actually experiencing (Ibid. 58). We have all heard success stories from athletes who used visualization to achieve their personal best. I know that when I smile or even laugh in a challenging yoga pose, my pose improves. I think laughing tricks the body into thinking I am having fun -- even in a challenging yoga pose!

The exercise (or meditation) is to write your "I AMage." Write everything that you are -- in poems, ideas and plans. Another exercise suggests we talk to a lake, asking the lake for guidance. Both of these exercises remind me of spiritual counseling, which also uses the power of Imagination to find inner guidance.

The Creative Life uses many familiar Butterworthian metaphors and stories to illustrate a point; he repeats his favorites from his previous books. I had to chuckle when Butterworth stated over and over that the 'inlet and outlet of God' was a concept from Emerson. Our class determined it was from Emile Cady's Lessons in Truth (it is a chapter in that book). It also can be found in works of Ernest Holmes. Yet, Butterworth's charm and power is unmistakable. At the end of each step, I reflected on its power and wondered whether I had truly assimilated it. Butterworth's theology in The Creative Life is like a spiritual counselor who urges us to create our best lives, using the Genesis story as our guide: "The creation story is your story, the key to your creative genius" (Ibid. prologue).