I watched a great Zoom talk this week, hosted by Haverford College and featuring Ben Pink Dandelion and Robynne Rogers Healey. The topic was “The New History of Quakerism” and its focus was on the shifts happening in Quaker academic histories since the 1990s. Dandelion did a fantastic job putting the last 150 years of Quaker historiography in context and laying out the positives of more recent developments: more academic rigor, a wider diversity of voices, changing foci of topics, and strong interest by academic publishers.
Healey identified three major fields in which the new histories are challenging what are often comforting apologetics of previous Quaker studies: the equality of women, slavery and indigenous relations, and pacifism. All these are much more complicated than the stories we tell. She then listed three trends: decentering London and Philadelphia, reevaluating the so-called quietist period, and including academics and histories of the Global South.
Dandelion said these changes were “all for the better,” and while I agree wholeheartedly with him in regards to content, there’s one way in which the new publishing opportunities are failing us: to be blunt, price.
Take the Penn State University Press series, “The New History of Quakerism,” that both panelists have written for. The Creation of Modern Quaker Diversity, 1830 – 1937 edited by Stephen W. Angell, Dandelion, and David Harrington Watt is $125. Quakerism in the Atlantic World, 1690 – 1830 edited by Healey is $90. Quaker Women, 1800 – 1920, edited by Healey and Carole Dale Spencer is $125.
Both Healey and Dandelion acknowledged the problem of inaccessible prices in their talk. Dandelion suggested that meeting libraries might be able to purchase these books but I think that’s more hopeful than realistic. My small meeting certainly couldn’t. I went to the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting Library and they wouldn’t let me check out The Quaker World (FJ review), the 2022 collection edited by my friends C. Wess Daniels and Rhiannon Grant. It’s got a lot of great authors and I heartily recommend it, but only in absentia because at $250 I’m never going to read it.
As an amateur Quaker history lover, these are all volumes I would love to read, but I’m not writing this because of my own personal anguish (real as it is!) but because the prices are breaking what has been an essential transmission system for new histories. In the late 1980s, Thomas Hamm published The Transformation of American Quakerism, 1800 – 1907 with Indiana University Press. It was $25 and I splurged. It became an important source in my understanding of Quaker divisions and nineteenth-century quietism. Still, decades later, when I write blog posts, or teach Quakerism 101, or answer an online question, I’m often regurgitating perspectives I learned from Hamm.
Go to Facebook, go to Reddit, and people aren’t sharing these groundbreaking histories. Just now, randomly opening Facebook, there’s a post by someone asking about James Nayler, with someone answering it by referencing Hugh Barbour’s mid-1960s history. I love Barbour but he had his own filters and we’ve learned a lot since then.
Every meeting I’ve been a part of had a small number of history nerds in residence who led the Quakerism 101 classes or hosted book groups or Bible study, and they brought their nerdiness to their meeting tasks. To use Healey’s list, many Quakers in the benches still think of Friends’ race relations in terms of abolitionism, still consider early Friends as unalloyed feminists, and rarely give a thought to Friends in the Global South. I recently read a new article about a local meeting that was founded by one of the largest slaveholding families in the area and the only mention of slavery was its much-later anti-slavery society; I really want these kinds of stories to be too embarrassing to publish. Quakers in the benches need the perspectives of these new historians to understand ourselves.
Are there ways that academics can repurpose their inaccessible work so that it can trickle down to a general audience? I’m glad this Zoom talk was open to the public and well publicized: at least some of us could watch it and know the outlines of the changing historiography. But how else can we work to bridge the gap? Blog posts, articles in general publications, podcasts, Pendle Hill pamphlets? What are we doing and what more could we do? I’m in Quaker publishing, obviously, and so part of the problem if there’s a breakdown in transmission. We review the books and QuakerSpeak often dives into history. My friend Jon Watts’s Thee Quaker podcast has some wonderfully nerdy episodes. But all these feel like snippets: ten minutes here, 2000 words there. When I go to learn more, I’m stuck by the limitations of the open internet, caught in JSTOR articles I can’t access, or histories only available in print for $100-plus.
I’m not blaming anyone here. I understand we’re all caught in these capitalist and academic systems. I just wonder what we can do.
Also, special shoutout to Rhiannon Grant, who is the only Quaker academic I know of who is seemingly everywhere: Blog, articles in FJ, installments in the “Quaker Quicks” series, podcast segments on the BBC and Thee Quaker (she even guested on one of my FJ author chats!). Plus she’s on Mastodon, Bluesky, and TikTok and has her own welcome-to-Quakers page. I don’t think this ubiquitous approach is at all replicable for other academics. Even I’m not a proponent of social media ubiquity, preferring to focus on a few platforms.
I am an 80 year-old Conservative Friend with an M. Div. and a persistent lively interest in matters that might be called “scholarly,” but no credentials that would allow me access to academic libraries or “gated” online resources. So I cherish and publicize, when I can, all the “ungated” online resources I know about, like the Digital Quaker Collection (http://dqc.esr.earlham.edu/), which contains the little 1836 pamphlet, “Brief Remarks on Impartiality,” in which Joseph John Gurney dealt the death-blow to the Christian Universalism of George Fox and the Early Friends (except for the Hicksites and Wilburites who couldn’t buy Gurney’s peculiar reading of Colossians 1:23). That’s how we got some Quakers who say we need the Bible for our salvation, and some who don’t. I want *all* Friends to know this part of our history. I want *all* Friends to get the benefit of my M. Div. I got it to share with *them.*
When I saw _The Creation of Modern Quaker Diversity, 1830 – 1937_ priced at $125, I was unhappy, but I dug deep into my pockets and bought one, sensing I’d soon need to have read the book. Sure enough, it gave me an answer to why all sorts of Friends celebrate our testimony of Immediate Revelation, *but* explained why, on the other hand, I’ve never heard a Friend rise in Meeting and say, “The Lord just spoke to me and said.…”
This shyness about claiming to have personally *gotten* an immediate revelation is not just from modesty, but surely also because, under the lingering influence of 19th-century literature on religious insanity, we’ve been frightened away from making such claims: we don’t want the other Quakers in the room to think we’re crazy.
Richard Kent Evans’s admirable chapter in _The Creation of Modern Quaker Diversity_, “Quakers and ‘Religious Madness’,” sheds some light on how we got our now-fashionable reputation for being “mystics” — but mystics of the “right” kind. To Quaker alienist Daniel Hack Tuke, whose _Manual of Psychological Medicine_ was published in 1858, “A diseased mind saw angels, heard the voice of God, or uttered prophecy” (p. 126). OK, Dr. Tuke, got it: I’ll boast about us Quakers enjoying immediate revelation, but I won’t mention our hearing God’s “voice.” I’ll talk about “messages” given in Meeting, but won’t pretend that any of them constitute “prophecy.”
Rufus Jones took our ancient testimony of continued “immediate revelation,” for which George Fox and the early Friends had fought so valiantly, and helped make it acceptable in the hard-headed world of the twentieth century. This new book gives a lot of good, scholarly attention to Jones. Part of Jones’s strategy was to distinguish between “positive” and “negative” mysticism: “Positive,” or, as he elsewhere calls them, “affirmation mystics,” “are bent on having a firsthand experience of God — but not just for the joy of having it. More important than vision is obedience to the vision. There are battles to fight and victories to win.” (Jones, _Social Law in the Spiritual World_ (1923), excerpted in Kerry Walters, ed., _Rufus Jones: Essential Writings_ (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2001), 89.)
OK, Rufus, got it: I’ll teach the First-Day School kids that any *genuine* firsthand experience of God will give them a battle to fight and a victory to win!!But what if they get an experience like Ezra’s (9:4), that simply makes them “sit appalled until the evening sacrifice?” What if the prophetic message from God is. “Behold, the day is coming that shall burn as an oven?” (Malachi 4:1.)
I must say that I got my $125 worth of wisdom from buying that $125 book! But Friend, don’t lament if you don’t have $125 to spend on your own copy! Because you can get the testimony of the Apostle James for free: “If any of you lack wisdom, let them ask of God, that giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth not” (James 1:5).
I can tell you, Friend, that I’ve heard the voice of God, right in that heartland of liberal Quakerism, New York City’s Fifteenth Street Meeting, and I’m not insane! On one occasion, that Voice told me, “That sin is forgiven! Put it away!” On another occasion when I was afraid of giving way to a temptation, I heard, “I will not let you fall into sin.” How good is that? If you haven’t heard God’s voice yet, try asking God to always override your own selfish, foolish will when it disagrees with God’s will. Tell God you want to be God’s slave, and always do what God wants! You’ll be surprised what happens next.
Perhaps representatives of Quaker magazines could contact the authors of their favorite chapters in these books and invite them to submit an article that presents the essence of their chapter in prose that is friendly to the non-academic. Or “The New Quaker Histories” can be the theme for an issue of a Quaker magazine. The producers of the many Quaker podcasts could also interview these authors.
I may be wrong, but it seems like Quaker publications largely rely on the supply side of the supply and demand dynamic of articles on the new Quaker histories. The supply of these articles depends upon the initiative of academics. I suspect that if the publishers and editors create a demand for these articles by inviting authors to submit work, the ideas in the new Quaker histories will reach a lot more people.