This essay is my hesitant attempt to answer the questions James R. posted a few weeks ago, I Am What I Am.
Loving God with All Our Hearts
My religion teaches me that the first commandment is to love God above all else. The primary mission of a religious community is to serve God and to facilitate the spiritual growth and discernment of its members in their search for God. For me, this needs to be an explicit goal of my meeting.
I very much appreciate James’s honesty that for him to use the term of “God” would be “misleading, even dishonest.” One of the central openings of Quakerism is that we should not profess an abstract understanding of God. We believe in the necessity for “deep and repeated baptisms” and for every testimony and act in the ministry to come from the “immediate influence of his Spirit” in a “fresh annointing” (wonderful language from a Irish memorial minute for Job Scott). I would wish that more Friends would follow James’s example and not speak without that immediate direct knowledge of the divine. (How many plenary speakers at Quaker events are reading from a prepared speech? How many of us really find ourselves turning to prayer when conflicts arise in business meeting?)
I don’t think one does need an experience of God to be a part of a Quaker community. Many of us go through dry spells where the Spirit’s presence seems absent and this certainly doesn’t disqualify us for membership. But God is the center of our faith and our work: worship is about listening to God’s call; business meeting is about discerning God’s instructions. This has to be understood. For those who can’t name God in their lives, it must be just a bit bizarre to come week after week to participate with a group of people praying for God’s guidance. But that’s okay. I think all that is good in our religious society come from the Great Master. We are known by our fruits and the outward forms of our witnesses constantly point back to God’s love. This is the only real outreach we do. I’m happy spending a lifetime laboring with someone in my community pointing out to the Spirit’s presence in our midst. All that we love about Quakers comes from that source but part of my discipline is the patience to wait for God to reveal Herself to you.
I joined Friends via the fairly common route of peace activism. I could sense that there was something else at work among the Quaker peace activists I knew and wanted to taste of that something myself. It’s taken me years to be able to name and articulate the divine presence I sensed fifteen years ago. That’s okay, it’s a normal route for some of us.
The other piece that the comments have been dancing around is Jesus. I’m at the point where I can (finally) affirm that Christianity is not accidental to Quakerism. As I’ve delved deeper I’ve realized just how much of our faith and work really does grow out of the teachings of Jesus. I don’t want to be part of a Friends meeting where our Quaker roots are largely absent. I want to know more about Friends, which means delving ever deeper into our past and engaging with it. We can’t do that without frequently turning to the Bible. Liberal Friends need to start exploring our Christian roots more fully and need to get more serious about reading Quaker writings that predate 1950. There have been many great figures in human history, but whatever you think about the divinity of Jesus, he has had much more of an impact on Quakerism than all of the heroes of American liberalism combined. We’ve got a Friend in Jesus and we’ve got to get on speaking arragements with him again if we’re going to keep this Quakerism going.
Shaking the Sandy Foundation
James asked if the regulars at Quaker Ranter wanted a purging. I certainly don’t want to kick anyone out but I don’t think some of the people currently involved in Quakerism would be with us if we were truer to our calling. We need to start talking honestly and have a round or two of truth-telling and plain speaking about what it means to be a Friend. Yes, there are some delicate people who are offended by terms like God and worship, Christ and obedience. And many have good reasons to be offended (as Julie pointed out to me this weekend, one of the greatest sins our religious and political leaders have done over the centuries is to commit evil in the name of God, for they not only committed that evil but have so scarred some seekers that they cannot come to God). One can know Jesus without using the name and God does hold us in His warm embrace even through our doubts. But for those of us lucky enough to know His name shouldn’t be afraid to use it.
Many people come to us sincerely as seekers, trying to understand the source of Quakers’ witness and spiritual grounding. I appreciate James’s asking “why I feel so irrestibly drawn to a community and religious society in which the central term is God.” As long as that’s where we start, I’m happy to be in fellowship.
But fellowship is an immediate relationship that doesn’t always last. There are people involved in Quakerism for reasons that are incidental to the mission of our religious society. We know the types: peace activists who seem to be around because Quakers have a good mailing list; Friends from ancient Quaker families who are around because they want to be buried out with great-grandma in the cemetery out back; twenty-something liberal seekers who like the openness and affability of Quakers. These are sandy foundations for religious faith and they will not necessarily hold. If Quakers started articulating our beliefs and recommitting ourselves to be a people of God, we will have those who will decide to drift away. They might be hurt when they realize their attraction to Quakerism was misplaced.
Naming the Trolls
We’ve all met people who have walked into a meetinghouse with serious disagreements with basic fundamental principles of Quakerism. This is to say we attract some loonies, or more precisely: visitors who have come to pick a fight. Most religious institutions show them the door. As Friends we have a proud tradition of tolerance but we’re too quick nowadays to let tolerance trump gospel order and destroy the “safe space” of our meetinghouse. This is a disservice to our community. Every so often we get someone who stands up to angrily denounce Christian language in a Quaker meeting. It’s fine to challenge an in-group’s unexamined pieties but I’m talking about those who try to get the meeting to censor ideas by claiming victimhood status whenever they hear a Christian worldview expressed. The person’s motivations for being there need to be questioned and they need to be lovingly labored with. We attract some people who deeply hurt and come with axes to grind. Some of them will use non-theism as their rallying call. When they are eldered they will claim it’s because of their philosophy, not their action. These kind of conflicts are messy, unpleasant and often confusing but we need to address them head on.
There are plenty of professing Christians who also need to be called on their disruptive behavior. They too would claim that any eldership is a reaction to their Christian theology. (Actually, I know more professing Christians than professing non-theists who should be challenged this way (Julie asked “who?” and I came up with a list of three right off the bat)). But there are disrupters of all flavors who will trumpet their martyrdom when Friends finally begin to take seriously the problems of detraction (a fine Quaker concept we need to revisit). If we suffer unfairly we need to be able to muster up a certain humility and obedience to the meeting, even if we’re sure it’s wrong. Again, it will be messy and all too-human but we need to work with each other on this one.
Sharing the Treasure
The real problem as I see it is not respectful non-theists among us: it’s those of us who have tasted of the bounty but hoard the treasure for ourselves. We hide the openings we’ve been given. A few weeks ago I was at yearly meeting sessions attended by some of the most recognized ministers in Philadelphia when a woman said she was offended by the (fairly tame) psalms we were asked to read. She explained “I’m used to Quakerese, Light and all that, and I don’t like all this language about God as an entity.” No one in that room stood to explain that these psalms _are one of the sources_ of our Quakerese and that the “Light” Friends have have been talking about for most of the past three and a half centuries is explicitly the Light _of Christ_. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this incident, but this kind of thing happens all the time: we censor our language to the point where it’s full of inoffensive double-meanings. Let’s not be afraid to talk in the language we have. We need to share the treasure we’ve been given.
Related Reading:
This post was inspired by James R’s comment, which I titled I Am What I Am. He was responding originally to my essay We’re All Ranters Now. I remain deeply grateful that James posted his comment and then allowed me to feature it. These are not easy issues, certainly not, and its easy to misread what we all are saying. I hope that what I’m contributing is seen through the lens of love and charity, in whose spirit I’ve been trying to respond. I’m not trying to write a position paper, but to share honestly what I’ve seen and the openings I feel I have been given – I reserve the right to change my opinions! From what I’ve read, I’d be honored to be in fellowship with James.
Liz Oppenheimer has opened up with a thoughtful, tender piece called My Friendly journey with Christ.
You know the disclaimer at the bottom that says I’m not speaking for any Quaker organization? I mean it. I’m just take phone orders and crank out web pages for a particular organization. This isn’t them speaking.
I certainly don’t want to kick anyone out but I don’t think some of the people currently involved in Quakerism would be with us if we were truer to our calling.
This literally took my breath away. Beautifully put, Martin. Thank you. There’s so much in what you have written, but this sentence is going to haunt me for a while. Let me go and sit with it for now.
Martin, thank thee for this beautiful post. I am very much moved by it, and reminded of a Merton prayer…
“Oh God, my God, why am I so mute? I long to cry out and out to Thee, over and over, and Thou are nameless and infinite. All our names for Thee are not Thy name, infinite Trinity. But Thy Word is Jesus and I cry the name of Thy Son and live in the love of His heart and believe, if He wills, that He will bring me the answer to my only prayer: that I may renounce everything and belong entirely to the Lord!”
It’s not easy for me, nor am I sure that Jesus is “The” word of God, but for some reason this sprang to mind immediately. If I feel this longing to reach God, and Quakerism is my path, and Quakerism is Christianity, and Jesus is the beginning of that, then perhaps He is the Word I (or, maybe…we, as Quakers…) have been given, with which to reach God, and it should be embraced as a gift.
Hey Martin, great post.
I think you’re right that Friends dance around honest conversations about what it means to be God-centered and what the relative importance is of being God-centered or Jesus-centered. Certainly Christianity is foundational for Quakerism (of all sorts). But is it (or should it be) normative for a God-centered liberal Quakerism? And where does such a conversation take place? Friends are clearly not the only people of faith presented with this question: witness John Spong in the Episcopal Church. (Not that I would suggest him as a model for how Friends should engage the conversation – but he does put it right out there!)
It’s always very painful when people cannot “listen in tongues.” I still remember very clearly one meeting at Central Philadelphia when a message refered to God as “she” and was followed immediately by a weighty Friend speaking about how God has no gender. God=He would have passed right through that second Friend’s filters without comment. People shut their ears through fear and pain, and also through habit and complacency. Job Scott wrote about the pain of having a message he could not deliver because the ears of the hearers were shut.
You’ve done a very good job of naming the trolls. (Without, of course, naming any specific names, which would be detraction! I can certainly think of a few on my own.)
Your comments on sharing the treasure ring true to my experiences as a teacher. I generally begin a Quakerism course using an adaptation of the Friendly Bible Study method on the first few verses of the Gospel of John. Even experienced Friends are often taken aback at finding the textual source of some basic Quaker vocabulary. Not to mention the consternation felt by some at starting with the Bible at all. It’s a scandal, whether we’re individually Christian or not, to be so ignorant of our religious heritage.
I have a personal question about one sentence. (Although it’s perfect for cherry-picking, this isn’t meant as a rhetorical device; I’d like to know more about your transition from activist to Christian.)
I certainly don’t want to kick anyone out but I don’t think some of the people currently involved in Quakerism would be with us if we were truer to our calling.
If Friends had been truer to their calling when you came via the activist route, would you have stuck around? Would you be a Friend now? Would you have come to something like your current understanding sooner? Something totally else?
Martin,
This is some of the most touching ministry I’ve encountered in your writing. And the post has a wonderfully silly, silly title. 🙂
I find that we conservative-leaning Friends in Liberal meetings are often quick to cry out that our meetings must return to our Christian roots or seek to know Christ together. And this is what I personally yearn for in the Society of Friends in many ways. But it is far too often said with a sentiment that *WE* Christian Friends have to do this. TODAY. NOW. God can’t wait. And we can’t wait for God. We have to convince everyone we are right and Quakerism without Christ is no Quakerism at all. No wonder James and so many other non-theists sometimes worry that Christ-centered Friends are craving an inquisition-like purge!
Corporate change can only occur with corporate leading. It will not and cannot come by a few determined, “enlightened souls” who will attempt to non-violently twist the arm of the meeting until they cry “Jesus!”
I don’t want a purge. And, as a Christ-centered, Liberal Friend, schism is often a tempting daydream for me to dwell in, but I’m doubtful that that is where I will be led anytime soon. We aren’t called to “fix” the Society of Friends on our own. That’s Christ’s work, and it’s hubris to assume it’s all on our shoulders. Our job is to simply bear witness to the measure we’ve been given, open our hearts to receiving the measure given to others, and honor our covenant of membership with one another as we seek to understand the next step in finding our shared faith. And it just so happens that that is everyone’s job in meeting – Christ-centered, universalist, non-theist, or whatever label a Friend might apply to themselves. We will all be used in this process.
I don’t want to leave this at an abstract level, however. Let me offer an extremely personal and dear example:
When I spoke on a panel at my meeting exploring the differences of our community’s languages, experiences and beliefs, I bore witness to Christ in my life as a personal, creative Source of Life and Truth. Afterwards, a couple came up to me and thanked me for offering my ministry. One of them said I spoke of Christ with a “prophetic voice.” This couple identifies themselves and Jewish, non-theist Friends. It meant so much to me.
I continued to deepen my relationship in the Spirit with each of them. When I was welcomed into membership at a small meeting dinner (months after I had become a member, in proper Quaker fashion), one of the members of this couple clearly expressed her commitment to my journey, understood as following Christ. I voiced my commitment to them in their spiritual journey.
Did I make a mistake in that moment? To say I am committed to another’s spiritual journey that doesn’t profess Christ or even God? I think not – because this commitment was not born when I verbalized it to them – it began when I became a member of Friends Meeting at Cambridge, a member of the Religious Society of Friends, and a member of these two Friends. And to that I was clearly led. Our covenant of membership is a call to be members of one another. And I use the word covenant quite intentionally — I believe that one of the ways that God reveals herself to us is through the model of the beloved community. In seeking to honor the covenant we have made with our fellow Friends, we further understand the blessings and challenges of seeking to honor our covenant with God.
This doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t boldly and compassionately speak of the loving work of the Light of Christ within me. It just means being open to the fact that I might have a lot of spiritual wisdom to receive from searches for Truth that don’t involve a recognition of Christ, and I should support those journeys as much as I am clear to. And in doing so, I may find my own understanding of Truth has grown.
I take this commitment of membership very seriously – to labor, nurture, support and challenge my fellow Friends; to walk in the Light together, and to give, receive, and pray with my fellow sojourners when the next step is unclear. My feet are on solid ground. Honestly, I fear my meeting’s are often in sinking sand. But to attempt to force our community into theological flagellations without the hand of the Holy Spirit actively pulling us all up together will only cause us to sink in deeper.
Furthermore, to lose patience and walk alone towards the light before me is to leave others behind. And the next time I lose my way, I don’t want to be alone.
Kenneth asked:
>If Friends had been truer to their calling when you came via the
>activist route, would you have stuck around?
Hi Kenneth: good question. I actually feel a bit unqualified to answer it; I’m not sure I can get that far back inside my head. Sometimes I feel very distant from that Martin of fifteen years ago but then sometimes I read some old piece and laugh out loud at the echoed themes.
That said, I think I would have stuck around. I would have been intrigued with the faith. It might have taken a longer time for me to feel comfortable with the Quaker label but I wonder if I wouldn’t have become a member sooner.
As part of my college application I had to write an essay about why I wanted to go to a Catholic college and be part of its Honors Program. Although I was essentially agnostic, my answers were all about searching for the meaning of life. I don’t know if I said “God” but I wanted to go to a (supposedly) religious school since I thought that all college kids and their profs would be discussing the big issues (yes I was naive!).
I don’t mean to say that Quakers need to speak as Christians and use “He” for God all the time, just that we all need to be more open to share what faith we’ve found. That’s one of the reasons why I appreciate James’s article so much.
But for those of us lucky enough to know His name shouldn’t be afraid to use it.
This is so very true. 🙂 Christian Quakers should never feel obligated to leave Christ out of their worship or speech because of anyone else’s convictions or another person’s non-belief. I often find the words of a fellow Quaker helpful even if they speak in terms of Christ, because at the root of both of our beliefs lies a common idea, or a common concept: love. I often wish that my meeting WOULD read the bible more often in discussion group, because I actually learned very little from scripture when I went to church as a child, and now I find myself wanting to read the verses for myself, as an adult, so that I have a more than basic understanding of the book. 🙂
I’ve identified a lot with what James said, and also with what others have said from the Christian point of view, and I find myself somewhere in the middle… naming God, but not “Christ”, although I believe there is a lot to be learned from Jesus.
It seems like there so much less of a difference when you take James, myself and a Christian (any of those who posted comments), and find a basic idea of doing good, maintaining peace and living a simple, thoughtful life at the root of all three of us. I can’t imagine that any of the three sets of beliefs are really all that different when it comes to basic values; they’re just dressed in different language and sometimes involve other beliefs that coincide with those core ideals, but are not required by all three of us to maintain our faith, if that makes sense.
I’ve really enjoyed reading the conversation within that original post, and it’s spurred me to think a great deal about what I personally believe, and how that does and does not tie into ideas of Christ and God and the worship process.
Thank you for your post.
It’s interesting to note that the new Pope (Ratzinger/Boniface) is staunchly and unabashedly ‘orthodox’ in applying the Catholic position to modern life, and said he would rather see a smaller church that is orthodox, that takes the ‘no compromise with moral relativism and modernity stance’. At least he knows the cost of taking this stand. My immediate thought was, Yea !! Here come more Catholics to Quakerism ! The Popes have done wonders for Friends growth (I’ve heard that the largest segment of convinced Friends are ex-Catholics). But, I am disturbed by the ridgid ‘orthodoxy’ position. Has the church’s ‘sanctity of life’ at all costs position put it into taking ‘extreme’ positions? Where is God in all of this? At least the Quakers don’t have such a harsh hard line doctrine. We have the even messier ‘continuing revelation’ and ‘discernment’ approach (Thank God !!). I pray that Christ would be the center of all Christian groups and activity. God knows, with the 21st century, we’re gonna need it. I dont know what my point is, except, thank you Martin, and James and Quakers and Christ, who labors with us, in spite of all our best intentions, inventions, conventions and annual sessions.
Beautiful post.
I think it is obvious to everybody that *something* needs to be done. We just have to honestly and diligently figure out what it is that we want to do.
If we Christian Friends choose to stay idle and do nothing, I fear for the Society. There will no doubt be more schisms, less and less Christianity involved, and eventually Quakerism may no longer exist as a Christian faith, at least in the United States.
I really do not like to sound so sensationalist, but the prospect of no longer having a Christian Quakerism really scares me. And I most definately see things heading in that direction.
Just one point to lift up in all this, motivated by the desciptions of me as a “Christian.”
Careful readers will see that I consistently dodge the central tenets of Christian orthodoxy. I really don’t know about the divinity of Christ or of his immaculate conception or most of the talking points on the “Apostle’s Creed”:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apostle%27s_Creed. Which is to say 95% of the world’s Christians would not consider me a Christian. I know there’s a couple of millenia of debate on what it really means to be a Christian, but it’s only in the rather small Quaker/UU/Very-Liberal-Protestant world that I would really qualify. (While the whole neo-Gnosticism, “Lost Gospels” stuff is vaguely interesting at times, its champions feel like the Democrats who still rant about the Bush/Gore election or the friend who just talks your ear off about the boy- or girlfriend that dumped them back in 1988. You just want to pat them on the back and tell them “dude, yeah you’re right it sucks big time but you know it’s over, you just got to move on.” The definition of “Christian” was settled 1600 years ago, for better or worse. Let’s just find a nice alternate term like “Christo-centric” and chill out).
I’m definitely comfortable with “Christo-Centric.” I don’t _mind_ being called a “Christian” and indeed I think I qualify by a looser, more-sociological definition of the term. But we need to remember that even my writings here don’t qualify _at all_ by the standard definition.
Harold said “the prospect of no longer having a Christian Quakerism really scares me. And I most definately see things heading in that direction.”
I hope no one reading Martin’s blog has any confusion over this fact: Most Quakers in the world, and in the United States, are very clear about their Christian faith. (For a particularly good recent example of Friendly vigor, see this Barclay Press Cafe forum on end of life issues.)
If what is meant is Christian unprogrammed Quakerism or Christian liberal Quakerism, then go right ahead with your point. But please don’t dismiss the vast majority of Friends.
Lovely, post Martin. You speak both to my condition and you speak my mind.
I hope to blog about your thoughts and the issues you so nicely raise sometime soon.
Blessings on your head for following the Guide!
Dear Martin,
I agree so much with what you said in the main post and your subsequent comments that either I could gush endlessly or I can quibble about this one little tiny piece of your most recent comment:
“The definition of “Christian” was settled 1600 years ago, for better or worse.”
For me, this is like saying the definition of marriage was settled 1600 years ago. (As between one dominant male and one subservient female.) Many people think this is true, but I don’t agree. People are still talking about it, still disagreeing, and I still have hope that the Truth will be found to be more loving than the history of the last 1600 years.
It could be (and has been, by better scholars than me) argued that a more true statement is that the Christian church was powerfully co-opted by the Roman empire about 1600 years ago, and that the Christians over the first four centuries strayed from the prophetic basis of Jesus’s teachings back into the cultural norms of the society around them. A time honored tradition among the Israelites as well.
One of the things that is most amazing to me about the whole “Lost Gospels stuff” is that the more I learn about the earliest Church, the more it resembles the early Quakers: equality of men and women, traveling evangelists, covenant community, open debate of what the message of Christ is, and on the downside, prison, beatings, families torn apart, etc. Little did they know when they said “primitive Christianity revived” how right they were.
Kenneth makes a good point. Most Quakers are Christian. Most Friends in the liberal tradition have been Christian until quite recently. I’ve seen a few surveys that hint that most liberal Friends still identify as Christian (this doesn’t jive with my experience and I know of no comprehensive survey).
Hi Robin: Yes, certainly Quakerism is built on a story of a true Christianity gone bad, perverted by forces of worldly politics and lusts. The “Lost Gospels” books certainly echoes some of that basic Quaker worldview. My gut is that some of the excitement of the “Lost Gospels” is a attempt to justify our modern-day values by claiming they were the values of an original, true Church. I’m not sure I buy it, but because I haven’t really studied it all that much I buried that thought in a parenthetical remark deep in a comment. Julie and I are reading _Beyond Belief_ now, maybe we’ll do one of our ocassional joint reviews when we’re done…
First, let me say that this is a wonderful post and a wonderful discussion. So much so that I hope I find enough time to comment on it at greater length in my own blog.
For now, just a few points about the “purge” issue, about the “Christian” label, and about the “Lost Gospel” message that seems to be turning up in so many places.
First, about the worry that we “Christocentric” types (not my favorite word, but I’ll get to that under the second point) may get tempted to purge other Friends from the RSoF (or — more realistically — to withdraw ourselves from it and start over again with a smaller and more purely Christocentric group). This may be a natural temptation. If you want to be in a group centered on Christ, it might seem that the logical way to get there is to separate oneself from others who want a different focus. The problem with this is that it diverts attention from our center to our boundaries. It tries to make Christ central by shutting others out. I think a more direct approach is to make Christ central by making Christ central. I see my ministry in Fifteenth Street Meeting and New York Yearly Meeting as a ministry of testifying about Christ, not of arguing for him or disputing with others about other religious claims. Since Christ is Christ, I trust him to call others and make himself heard. In time, we may find that a Society of Friends where Christ is openly and freely preached is not of much interest to some whose real calling is toward Buddhism or New Age spirituality. We may also find that some who think they have no use for Christ are more drawn to Him than they expect when His followers make their lives speak (or “preach” as George Fox put it) in harmony with their words.
I have a theory that one of the things that prepared the ground for the separations in the 19th century was that Friends had been so busy protecting their boundaries (their hedge) and discouraging internal dissent during the quietist years that they were no longer heirs of a living and tested faith. Their faith became dry and brittle through over protection. So when they finally had to face new questions presented in a new time they shattered into warring sects, each giving up some precious bit of original Quakerism while clinging to the rest ferociously.
I hope in time to tell the story of an “opening” I received — I believe from Christ — at a yearly meeting when it was going through troubling times sparked by theological controversy. Christ told me inwardly that “I am not the leader of a faction”. I took that to mean that in order to follow him I should not act like a member of a faction.
Second — about the “Christian” label. I like it much better than “Christocentric”. The latter seems like an artificially coined term, a piece of academic vocabulary, and possibly a tad pretentious. I understand that there are many different ways to define “Christian”. Words are like that; they don’t stand still. But I don’t necessarily agree that most of the world’s Christians wouldn’t think Martin isn’t one. They might think he was a bad Christian or a deluded Christian, but if he cops to being a believer in Christ (and I imagine that’s implied in his word “Christocentric”) then I think they’d say he was a Christian anyway.
“Christian” means to me that I am or try to be a follower of Jesus — who is alive and not dead (though he once died). I don’t get too caught up in defining the relationship between Christ and God the Creator or God the Holy Spirit or God the Word or God the Light (am I an Pentatarian?), nor in puzzling out how Jesus could at once be fully human and also the eternal word made flesh. As I read the New Testament it seems to me that even His earliest followers had lots of different ways of thinking about these matters. The thing is, though, that they loved Him and followed Him. I find no record that Jesus ever said you had to completely understand Him in order to be His.
Third, about the idea of a “Lost Gospel”. I think that the Gospel is “lost” only in the sense of being overlooked. I am not going to base my faith on a theory that the “real” gospels were hidden away for centuries by a secretive sect then brought into the open during the Renaissance or the 1960’s. A lot of “gnostic” literature seems to me to be very problematic and spiritually misleading even though some of it is also enligtening and uplifting. Meanwhle, The four books known as the gospels in the New Testament give a pretty good and multi-faceted view of who Jesus was and is. The problem we have is not that the truth is hidden away in some vault, but that our eyes are blinded so that we don’t see it. I agree with Fox that in order to read the gospels aright we need to come into the power and spirit that gave them forth.
— - Rich Accetta-Evans
Hi Martin & everyone,
I have a lot of reactions to these posts, and I’ve kept from responding mostly because it all makes me feel very weary. I’ve written before about the arguments –sometimes bitter– that I’ve encountered on Quaker discussion lists. However (and hopefully, not to anyone’s dismay), I finally feel that I can respond.
I cannot even begin to express the joy and peace that Quakerism has brought me. It’s been a long, long journey for me (I’m not one of the “young” Quakers. I’m in my early, mind you!!!) 50’s. I finally have an experimental assurance –as Fox used the adverb experimentally– of acceptance by a God who views me as an adult and expects me to use the spiritual and intellectual faculties he/she has given me, trusts in me as I trust in him/her, has patience with my attempts to do what I believe is right and willingly forgives my failings; and most especially, a God that doesn’t demand that I be anyone’s doormat in the name of humility and religion. That’s quite a gift after many years of spiritual struggling and suffering.
We’re very fortunate right now to have Peter Blood-Patterson conducting a Quakerism 101 course over the next few weeks at our meeting.
One of the things that Peter has said, and that I think is germane to this discussion, is that Quakerism is a gamble. Having come from a church with a strong locus of authority (and no hesitation to use that authority), I can see what a gamble it is for a spiritual community to trust that the Inward Light will indeed guide the words and deeds of its members. A great part of this naming/not naming of God and/or of Jesus must be understood as a consequence of that gamble, I think. We must expect that Quakerism is going to be a lot less strict in how its members believe and speak of their beliefs. As Martin says, other religions just show people the door.
That said, I think that some of the discomfort could be mitigated by education. When a significant number of new attenders are seen at a meeting, perhaps a Quakerism 101 course is in order to at least remind people of the origins of Quakerism. It should at least be acknowledged that the early Quakers were Christians who probably would have had no problem with any of the tenets contained in the Nicene Creed.
Does that mean that revelation doesn’t continue or that those who have trouble subscribing to pretty much everything in the Creed should be “purged”? No, not at all. But I think that a proper understanding of where Quakers “came from,” so to speak, could resolve some ambiguities.
Anyone who wishes to worship with us should, I think, be able at least to tolerate prayers addressed to God and mention of the name of Jesus. If someone’s looking for some other more New Age-type spirituality, it might be better if they understand that that’s not what Quakers are all about. They probably will move on anyway, eventually.
As for those who would wish that God and Jesus be more forcefully affirmed … I guess I’d just say that I see a lot of really broken people on the doorstep of our meeting, people who perhaps have felt judgment rather than welcome at the “main line” Christian churches. I’d like to give them all the time they need, let them stay with us as long as they like, and offer them what comfort we can.
I think that’s what Jesus would do.
Blessings to everyone.
–Barbara
Back in the days when I attended 15th St Meeting, there was this older Friend who sometimes described himself as a former backbencher. He used to give somewhat lengthy but powerful vocal ministry, often telling a story that ended up with a point that had not been obvious to me but always made me think for a good long while. He had a gently Christian outlook that was not my own, but it was never pushy, just frank. I loved his ministry. Chris and I asked him to give the introduction to Quaker worship at our wedding. He is probably still the same way, judging by his writing today. Thank you, Rich.
Sorry if this continues to be off topic, but here is my question of this afternoon’s meditation: Why is it that, just because there is some amazing spiritual Truth in the letters of Paul, it necessarily follows that everything that he wrote is Truth? Why is it not acceptable (in Christian orthodoxy) to think that Paul, or even Christ Jesus, had some cranky days? What is interesting to me about the “Lost Gospels” is not that perhaps they are the Truth and the New Testament is not, but that their re-appearance and their content shed further light on what human processes went into defining what is Christianity.
First of all, while the importance of Friends and meeting for worship in my life certainly came as a great surprise to me, the experience itself has never been in the least bizarre. We sit together in silence, we offer up prayers and reflections and other messages as we are led, at the end of the hour we shake hands. Occasionally a message strikes me as bizarre, and once in a while I find myself led to offer a message that seems bizarre even to me. But the experience itself is rich, deep, peaceful, exciting, loving, heartbreaking, occasionally tedious (I’ll admit it). It all depends on the week, and the personal state of those who show up.
It also seems to be assumed that, because I don’t believe in any traditional conception of God, and am reluctant to use the word to describe my own experiences, that I must not be experiencing that which you call God. Is this right? If so, what is the foundation for this assumption?
I do believe that our actual, inner experiences are deeply various, but I certainly don’t think we can distinguish an experience of God, and an experience not of God, according a Friend’s willingness or reluctance to use the word God. Do you? If so, why?
I haven’t heard such angry denunciations of Christian language as you describe, but I certainly don’t doubt that they occur, and feel they have the potential for grave harm to our worship and our community. Depending on the circumstances, I would personally be inclined to elder the deliverer of such a denunciation. (To state that one is not a Christian, or does not accept certain central Christian beliefs, I would not call a denunciation of Christian language, any more than stating faith in God or Christ is a denunciation of my beliefs.) I do have knowledge of Friends who seem afraid to express their Christian beliefs in meeting, and I support their struggles to overcome that fear and speak out. The first and most important step, however, is one they must take on their own.
I have seen a fair number of Friends come and go in our meeting over the last 15 years. My sense is that most of them left when they realized the community was simply not what they were looking for. I have seen a fair number of “trolls,” as you describe them, simply wander away after a few months or a year or two, along with some folks who had hoped for a more theologically exclusive environment. In some cases their needs will be better met by more traditional churches; others might find a differently flavored gathering of Friends. Some will come to terms with what we are. A few, I think, are not looking for a genuine community at all, but a captive audience, and these sort tend to get frustrated sooner than anyone as they realize that’s not what we do. Some have been formally or informally eldered; probably more eventually notice on their own that we’re not hanging on their every word.
You wrote: “we censor our language to the point where it’s full of inoffensive double-meanings. Let’s not be afraid to talk in the language we have. We need to share the treasure we’ve been given.” I could not agree more. I simply need to add, “we” includes “me,” and many others of great diversity of belief. This point is not negotiable. It is simply a fact.
your friend,
james
While there were many compelling and intriguing messages on this page, Jeffrey Hipp’s message reached right into my heart.
Furthermore, to lose patience and walk alone towards the light before me is to leave others behind. And the next time I lose my way, I dont want to be alone.
I feel the same way.