Gardens hold a special place for Christian Science practitioner and teacher George Millar. Not just the one at his current Twickenham home on the river Thames, but one that stretches way back to his childhood in Australia.
When George was a boy, his older sister woke up, unable to get out of bed. She was paralyzed. The polio epidemic was widespread in Melbourne, and all schools were closed. A doctor came to the house and diagnosed her with the disease, saying he would return shortly to make arrangements for hospital. In a family where Christian Science had gone back three generations, "Mum told me to go into the garden and pray," George recalls. "I was very afraid. But since we'd just had a lesson in Sunday School on the importance of obedience, that's what I did."
George doesn't remember exactly how he prayed. "Maybe it was the Lord's Prayer, or 'the scientific statement of being' from Science and Health, or simply 'God, help my sister!' " But he does remember that on that dreary grey day as he sat in the garden, he suddenly looked around to see that it was full of light —majestic in its beauty. "We didn't have much of a garden at all," he adds, "since my father was the gardener and he was away at war." In that moment he was no longer afraid, and knew his sister was healed. He raced into the house to tell his mother, just as his sister came skipping out of her room, completely well.
He went out to the front gate to wait for the doctor, who was due back within the hour. "When he arrived," George remembers, "I said, 'She's all right. She's healed.' "
The impact of that experience never left him. Years later, George backpacked around Europe with fellow Aussie and schoolmate Geoffrey Barratt, whom he introduced to Christian Science. "But Geoffrey put me deeper into Science," he laughs, "because he kept asking me questions I needed to be able to answer." Both soon went into the full-time healing practice.
"It was the only thing I ever wanted to do," George says. And with God, Mind, as the doer, he's been doing it ever since.
George, in the brief communication we had before our interview, you mentioned that one of the things you've been thinking about these days is how abstract the word God is to so many people. How about we start there?
In giving us the seven synonyms for God, Mary Baker Eddy transformed the term God —she gave it new meaning. I'm particularly drawn to the synonym Principle. She said: "When understood, Principle is found to be the only term that fully conveys the ideas of God, —one Mind, a perfect man, and divine Science." No and Yes, p. 20.
Why do you think she singled out the word Principle?
Principle is self-existent, invariable, constant, therefore reliable. The other synonyms that Mrs. Eddy gives us, such as Love or Life or Mind, without Principle, could be variable, unreliable, destructible. But Love that is Principle is invariable, unchanging —and utterly reliable. And that is God.
Science and Health says, "It is our ignorance of God, the divine Principle, which produces apparent discord, and the right understanding of Him restores harmony." Science and Health, p. 390. And I find that understanding the synonyms in light of that statement is crucial in serving our daily experience.
And the synonyms also keep us from anthropomorphizing God, don't they?
They do. Because of the years of old theology, that temptation to anthropomorphize God is still prevalent. And even as Christian Scientists, we sometimes do that —ascribe human characteristics to God and expect Him to act personally on our behalf.
In regard to old theology, do you see a difference between religiosity and spirituality?
There is an enormous difference. We need to think metaphysically. That is, from the standpoint of metaphysical truth. From the standpoint of old theology there is a sense of God as something out there; that if we pray to God, God will do something for us. Whereas, the metaphysician understands the true nature of existence, and thinks out from that standpoint. The difference is either "out from" or "up to." Those who think out from Mind are metaphysicians. Those who think "up to" are victims of old theology.
Either we have an understanding of the scientific approach—or we are approximating a scientific approach — from the standpoint of outside, trying to get in.
If we understand, as you say, the true nature of existence, then we are thinking in absolute terms, aren't we? And yet so much of Science and Health is written in the "relative" — that is, in proportion to something else. As an example, when Mrs. Eddy says, "The letter of Science plentifully reaches humanity to-day, but its spirit comes only in small degrees." Ibid., p. 113.
Well, I prefer to think of what we term the relative statements as explanatory — not statements of fact, but just what seems to be going on. It would not be compassionate to speak beyond someone's capacity to understand. Jesus didn't. He spoke in parables because that's what people understood. But there were other times when he departed from that and expressed pure, absolute truth. For instance in his statements, "I and my Father are one," "Before Abraham was, I am," "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." John 10:30; John 8:58; and John 14:9. What did the people do? They stoned him. They didn't understand what he was talking about.
So it's just not wise or loving to speak beyond an individual's capacity to understand, and we need to recognize that fact. A friend of mine used to say, "Think radically, but speak wisely, and live lovingly," and I think that's a very good axiom for daily living.
When we ask questions like "What's wrong?" "Why is this happening?" "How can I fix it?" — these are really unanswerable questions, aren't they? Because they're being asked from that "outside" you just referred to.
Yes, it's like saying, "Why does the sun rise in the East and set in the West?" Well, it doesn't. "Why do objects get smaller as they recede in the distance?" They don't.
Or "Why am I not healed? It's taking so long. . . . "
The very fact that one is asking that question means that one still believes one is sick. As long as error is accepted as something real —as something that needs to be overcome —we are not likely to be able to do anything about it. I think if one is working about something and seeking healing, it has to get to the point where they can say, "Well, I don't care what the evidence says. I understand that I am actually spiritual and perfect, and I can no longer accept the false evidence, since it has nothing to do with what I am." Because the fact remains that the whole time something appears to be out of order, it is actually in perfect order.
For instance, if one looks through a window pane and there's a big bubble in the glass, it appears to distort the object on the other side. But it's not touching the object. it's not changing it—it's got nothing to do with the object. So in order to see things as they are, we need to stop looking through the distorted glass, because it gives a distorted picture. We need to look through the clear glass.
And looking through the clear glass is understanding the absolute truths about what we are —not the relative ones?
Definitely. I've been thinking a great deal lately about the statement in Science and Health, "The confidence inspired by Science lies in the fact that Truth is real and error is unreal." Science and Health, p. 368. Later on in the book, after spelling out the differences between Truth and error, Mrs. Eddy reiterates that statement and concludes saying: "Moreover, Truth is real, and error is unreal. This last statement contains the point you will most reluctantly admit, although first and last it is the most important to understand." Ibid., p. 466. And why I agree it's the most important to understand is because unless one recognizes the reality of Truth, one is going to be robbed — robbed of the benefits of that Truth. And unless we understand the unreality of error, we're going to be fooled—fooled into accepting it as real. With all of its apparent effects.
There's that question in First Kings that is so direct, and I think speaks exactly to what you're talking about: "How long halt ye between two opinions?" I Kings, 18:21.
Christian Science promises very little for mortals, in fact, practically nothing. But it promises everything for man, the image and likeness — or direct expression — of Mind.
GEORGE MILLAR
Yes, that's it. The fact is we're always dealing with a present state of thought. It doesn't matter how long something seems to be going on. It's what we are thinking and knowing at this moment. What we are conscious of at any given moment is our present sense of reality. Now, either it's reality as it actually is or it's a limited sense—or misconception of it. So if we are accepting the misconception, it's like we're standing in front of a distorted mirror. But that doesn't mean we've become the distorted image. We remain what we really are, and always have been—the direct expression of perfect Mind. So it's no good trying to "do" something to ourselves. We are already all right.
What we've got to do is look into the perfect mirror, which from our standpoint, of course, is divine Science, in which we can see ourselves as we really are. Science and Health says, "Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals." What appeared to mortal man was the distorted image—looking through that distorted mirror—of the material senses. "In this perfect man the Saviour saw God's own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick." Science and Health, pp. 476-477. So that is true healing in Christian Science—nothing actually happens. The fact is that all is Mind, and Mind is not acting upon or controlling something else, but it constitutes all that exists—and is perfect. And that is what I always bring out to the patient, the fact that all that can exist—and is existing now—is the manifestation of perfect Mind.
And that's Principle.
And that's Principle, yes. I've always liked to define Principle as "that which is, and can't help being." It was never created. It has always been so.
That makes me think of something else I've been giving a lot of thought to recently. The word being. A friend of mine came to church with me one evening— he knew nothing about Christian Science—and afterwards as we were walking home he said, "The thing that interested me was the word being. I'd never thought of that before."
Like the word God, that word being can sound so abstract. But rather than being distanced from the word, it sounds like your friend was really touched by it.
My friend made me realize how essential the word being is to Christian Science—in fact if "the scientific statement of being" were not the heart and soul of our teachings, I don't think Mrs. Eddy would have selected that one statement to be read at the conclusion of every Sunday service. It's only by right identification that we can experience what we really are.
The other important word in "the scientific statement of being" is the word infinite. Mrs. Eddy didn't just say that "All is Mind and its manifestation," Or even "All is infinite Mind and its manifestation," but rather, "All is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation . . . ." Ibid., p. 468. That's because there is no finite or limited manifestation of infinite Mind. And in one of her definitions of being she said: ". . . being is infinity, freedom, harmony, and boundless bliss." Ibid., p. 481. And it's that realization of the infinite nature of being that allows us to identify ourselves rightly. It is then that we can say, "If all is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation—and I exist at all—then I can only exist in that way."
So whenever we see anything out of alignment with God, Principle, we're buying into that windowpane with the bubble in the glass—or taking in the distorted-mirror picture. Accepting what appears to be . . . .
That's right. We've been educated to spend our lives taking care of what we appear to be, without necessarily knowing what we really are. So through these educational processes we are led to believe that certain things are real that aren't actually real at all. We have, therefore, varying success with that endeavor. But if we can recognize that we're not just what we appear to be—that is, we're not physical mortals with a mind inside, with this physical body that can sometimes be well and sometimes sick, and that this mind can sometimes be good and sometimes bad—if this is the way we identify ourselves, our experience is going to be a mixture of good and bad, and health and sickness.
But if we can see that our true identity is something other than matter, well then, we don't have to experience those discordant things. What we experience is infinite being. The more we think out from the infinitude of good, the less lack of good we experience. By knowing what we really are, we take the best care of what we appear to be.
So George, it's not a matter of peeling off these layers of education, is it? It's being willing to abandon the whole concept of a divided life— a divided anything.
Abandoning that false sense that seems so real. It's changing one's concept of reality from what appeared to be— but was not true — to what actually is true.
Well, let's face it — it's a bold way of thinking, isn't it?
It's bold, no doubt about it — it's revolutionary. I mean, Science is totally unique in its teachings. You won't find the definitions of the nature of God and of man that are in Science and Health any where else other than in Mrs. Eddy's writings.
When we are contemplating the scientific idea of man, the scientific definition of man, are we closer to understanding "man" when we see it as unique from mankind —men, women, children — all of that?
Oh, definitely. The human identification is a limited sense of man. We just have to get beyond these old concepts that have no place in Science. That false concept that man is only part creation, and woman is part creation, and if they get together then they'll be complete, but they may not be, so they have to have a child. It's a sense of incompleteness — and completeness is only found in acknowledging that divine Principle is our entire life.
I had a friend who was a zoologist, and he discovered a spider that was thought to be extinct. Now, to me this spider was an insignificant little brown thing with absolutely nothing going for it. My friend would bring me work on this particular species to be translated from German, and every time he did, he was always so excited when he found out more about this spider. And one day I said to him, "I can't understand how you can get so excited about this little insignificant creature." And he said, "Come over here." And he had one of these spiders set up under his microscope. He said, "Take a look"—which I did. Well, what a transformation! Instead of this little brown thing, there was a beautiful opalescent, shining, creature—exquisite in every detail. It was as if the physical spider had been translated into something else entirely. Suddenly I could see what he was so caught up in.
Now, of course, that was a material example, but it illustrates how I'd seen through the limitation of the material senses to the degree that I was seeing a different spider when I looked through my friend's microscope.
Mrs. Eddy's remarkable statement lifts it entirely out of the material realm: "And how is man, seen through the lens of Spirit, enlarged, and how counterpoised his origin from dust, and how he presses to his original, never severed from Spirit!" The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, p. 129.
There is either man, seen through the lens of Spirit, seen from the standpoint of Truth—his real being—or through the limits of the material senses.
God, Principle, is never dividing. Because God is one, He's not misunderstanding Himself. Principle is not antagonistic.
GEORGE MILLAR
With that analogy, George, the limited sense of the spider— let's just say we're dealing with a limited sense of person—a human personality. It feels so often in Christian Science that we attempt to put spiritual qualities onto a human personality, onto a human "man."
We do. And that's why that statement I quoted before—"Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man" — is so essential to understanding divine Science. Jesus didn't behold in persons the perfect man, but he saw the scientific nature of man.
Now, Christian Science promises very little for mortals, in fact, practically nothing. But it promises everything for man, the image and likeness or direct expression of Mind — that oneness of Principle and idea.
God, Principle, is never dividing. Because God is one, He's not misunderstanding Himself, Principle is not antagonistic. None of those discordant things that seem to disturb human relationships. There's just one God and one man.
Anyone reading Mrs. Eddy's definition of man in Science and Health might say: "Whoa, wait a moment—man is 'not made up of brain, blood, bones, and other material elements'? Science and Health, p. 475. Of course he is!" But that's only how it appears.
The way we identify ourselves determines what we experience. Now, if we just identify ourselves as what we appear to be, we're going to have all the limitations that go with that finite, material sense. But if we identify ourselves in the way that Christian Science defines man, as that "infinite expression of infinite Mind," Ibid., p. 336. well, then one finds that one's experience is entirely different. The limitations fall away, and the misconceptions don't go on interfering with our lives.
Everything is a state of thought. And the fact is, what we're conscious of at any given moment is our present sense of reality. We are all capable of improving on our sense of reality until it more than just approximates reality—but is reality itself.
And this is when we move from the relative sense of what we are to the absolute?
Oh yes. I remember a healing that stands out to me so clearly as the result of recognizing—acknowledging—the changeless perfection of Spirit. After I went swimming in a boisterous sea, I had water and sand in one ear and it became infected. It was extremely inflamed and painful, and I was totally deaf in that ear. As I was praying about it, it kept getting worse and worse and I thought, "Well now something has to happen." And just as I thought that, I realized I had been waiting for something to happen. I thought that something needed to be discharged or something had to take place in that ear before I could be free. But I suddenly realized that if all is Mind, Spirit, nothing was acting upon or controlling or healing something else, because Mind constitutes all that exists— and it's perfect. And from one moment to the next I was free—the inflammation, the pain, the deafness were completely gone. Nothing happened — there was no discharge—just instant freedom. That was the end of it. As I said earlier, it's by knowing what really is that we take the best care of what appears to be.
More recently, while visiting a patient for the first time, the same realization — the present sense of what already is — brought instantaneous healing of a back problem that had kept the patient more or less housebound for years.
So these realizations of what actually is, take care of these peculiar, discordant things that seem to happen in our lives. And we experience genuine freedom.
And that's true being, isn't it?
That's true being. The recognition of what actually is, instead of trying to bring about something through this or that thinking. It was just an acknowledgment of things as they actually are. And that took care of the situation. No process.
Everything is a state of thought. And the fact is, what we're conscious of at any given moment is our present sense of reality.
GEORGE MILLAR
As you've been talking, George, it sure seems that we can make this so difficult for ourselves at times. I mean what a release, what a relief— what a privilege, really— to identify entirely with Mind, with Principle. As you say, to work out from Principle, not up to it. Principle can never be fooled by the bubble in the windowpane glass.
The same way that we recognize that the earth meeting the sky at the horizon is an illusion, or that objects don't get smaller as they recede into the distance— it just appears to be so.
I love the passage in Science and Health: "Starting from a higher standpoint, one rises spontaneously, even as light emits light without effort; . . ." Ibid., p. 262.
When we work out from Principle— the higher standpoint —we are no longer attempting to apply spiritual truths to our misconceptions. We live as Christ Science.
