“Interesting short post”:http://kwakersaur.blogspot.com/2005/01/jesus-language.html from Kwakersaur about the different ways Friends have related to God circa 1660, 1950 and today. A snippet
bq. [The first generation of Friends’] language lacked the me-an-Jesus kind of spirituality that marks the 1955 minutes and characterizes a lot of Christian spirituality of today. For early Quakers — and I suspect early Christians — it was not so much Jesus as a friendly affable fellow who loved us in a warm and comfy positive-strokes-I’m-OK-You’re-OK kinda way.
Here’s my own comment I left on Kwakersaur’s post:
I’ve noticed that Quakers have tended toward an ever-depersonalized expression of the divine. Our preferred word has gone from Christ to Jesus to God to Spirit to Light. Every transition has made the divine more theoretical and metaphorical. It’s kind of sad. I like reading random pages from an old Quaker text like Woolman’s “Journal” just to see how many evocative descriptions of God he can get into one page (“High Priest of the Order of Melchizedek,” wow I’ve missed that one!). Nowadays we limit our language more and more so as not to offend, but it seems like Friends once expanded their language in a related cause: not to get locked into an solitary set of labels for God.
I’ve been surprised over the years to find that I’ve gotten to the point where I’m not being honest when I try to describe Quakerism without talking about Christ and the Seed. I can do it, but it’s become like translating: I’m thinking in traditional Quaker language but then substituting inoffensive words.
I notice that a lot of Friends do that. A year ago I noticed that the latest issue of my yearly meeting newsletter had “Christ” listed twice, “God” listed four times and “community” listed two dozen times (more or less). I know one of this issues contributors quite well and know him as a very grounded Friend so I asked him why his article had “community” six times and what he meant by it. He confessed that when he uses that word he’s substituting “Body of Christ.” But why? And how are we going to teach the next generation when we’re afraid to even use our language? Why are we keeping our vocabulary so secret? Why not just use the languages we have and trust that we’re being inclusive even when using the “C word?”
I’m surprised, Friend Martin, that this post hasn’t gotten responses yet. Three things occur to me on this subject of naming Jesus Christ:
1. If Friends had remained sensible of their crying need for salvation, they might not have been so ready and able to cover their Savior’s name up with euphemisms in the interest of pleasing men and women. (I’m not disparaging them; I’m just now, going on 62, learning to speak of Jesus Christ boldly. I know how daunting it can be to risk becoming a fool for Christ, and how tempting to deny the depth of one’s neediness.)
2. If Friends had remained sensible of the power of prayer in Jesus’ name, they might not have become so shy about using it openly. I suspect that many Friends drifted away from the practice of private prayer altogether over the past century or so — though I have no way of knowing this, and I solicit correction.
3. Jesus Christ always has the power to rebuke us if we’re hiding our Light by avoiding naming Him. If we haven’t heard His rebuke, and it’s not because we’ve stopped our ears, then perhaps He’s had a reason to be patient with us about it — like, for example, because we Christian Friends needed to be taught humility and true Christian universalism before the pendulum was to swing the other way and we were to hasten back to His cross in embarrassment and learn to be bold again. But I think that you and I, at least, may now be feeling the pendulum’s change of direction.
John Jeremiah Edminster
Fifteenth Street Meeting, New York City
I find myself unable to post to your blog directly, so I’m e‑mailing this to you. You’re welcome to put this into your blog as a response if you think it worth your effort.
Hi John, thanks for the email, as you’ve seen I’ve put it up as a comment. I agree with you mostly, except that I think Friends have also gotten into trouble with a rote naming of Jesus Christ as Savior. As a religious society I think we have to be in that uncomfortable place where we both name and experience without taking either as the be-all of our religion. I don’t know if I’m explaining that well, but I sense that if we need to have that pendulum swinging if we’re to hold true to the Quaker understanding of the Light of Christ.
I find that I can sucessful define and describe the experience of Quakerism without using Christian language. My problem is that as I learn more and descend more into Quakerism I see how fundamentally Christian it is. When I think of some Quaker practice and start trying to articulate it to someone, I find myself inexorably thinking of its Biblical roots and how it ties in with the teachings of Jesus and how early Friends named it as a Quaker path following Christian gospel order. It’s not that I want to evoke the name of Christ to prove party affiliation or earn salvation; it’s just hard to talk about Quakerism without talking about Christianity. As you can see, this is all still a surprise for me!
Martin:
I was saddened 22 years ago when I first came to unprogrammed Quakers after many years in more or less orthodox Christian communities. I became more evangelical than I had been before. I felt led to use religious language in most of my messages. I welcome the presence of (a few) other quakers who have that freedom, and would like to see their tribe increase.
I have been sitting on a message for a few days now, and reading these comments makes it rise up. Like Martin, I am completely surprised by what occurs as I “descend into Quakerism” more fully. But my circumstances on the surface seem very different from Martin’s.
In talking about my Quaker faith and practice, I don’t use Jesus language, and I used to struggle with feeling included when fellow Friends used the J‑word, or the C‑word, or the J‑C word. But wow, am I in a different place…
What’s changed is a cumulative result of two specific things. First was a book discussion group I convened at my meeting, on Lloyd Lee Wilson’s “Essays on the Quaker Vision of Gospel Order.” During that discussion group, a Friend spoke of her (or his, I can’t remember) interpretation of “Christ,” that Christ was not a person but was a Divine Principle that has always existed and always will; that this Christ principle lives in all of creation.
As I listened to that Friend, in that moment, Christ no longer was the person who died on a cross and rose again a few days later; no longer a person who died for our sins. Rather, Christ became the Living Principle that is in each of us. …I now hear vocal ministry from Christian Friends with new ears, and I can _join_ the message rather than resist it.
The second experience is but a few weeks old. The monthly meeting has a group called Friends of Jesus, an affinity group for Friends whose theology and Quakerism is rooted in the life/teachings/Divinity of Jesus. Most of the worship group in which I participate had plans to go to a retreat led by that group, and more than once, I was approached with the enthusiastic question: “So, Liz, are you gonna go to the Friends of Jesus retreat?!?”
After coming to terms with the initial anxiety of what it would “mean” to go, and after several days of discernment, I became clear that I could go to the retreat – if I remained true to my own experience of the Divine. During the retreat, surprisingly, I found that the more firmly I grounded myself in my language, my beliefs, and my Quakerism as I experienced it, the more _open_ I was to hearing about the language, beliefs, and Christ-centered Quakerism from other Friends.
Blessings, –Liz from Minnesota
Hi Martin,
Some of us aren’t “limiting our language so as not to offend.” Some of us …OK, I’ll speak for myself!… just see Jesus a bit differently. I believe that he was a Spirit-filled teacher — a Hasid, as Geza Vermes has described him– and that he was killed by the “powers” (as Walter Wink would say) because he taught that God was on the side of the poor and the oppressed. As Jesus himself said, I worship “my Father and your Father… my God and your God” (Jn 20:17). I am very aware that this is a departure from what early Quakers believed.
I may be all wrong, but I feel it’s more important to forgive as we are forgiven, to be peacemakers, to do good to all as our heavenly Father makes it rain on all, to feed the poor, welcome the stranger, in other words, to do my best to live Jesus’ teachings, than to declare that Jesus is God.
I have no problem, however, worshipping in the company of those who worship Jesus as God. I respect their belief. I think it is beautiful.
After some of the ungracious exchanges that I have read on some Quaker discussion lists, I am beginning to conclude that Quakers are more tolerant and open toward persons of non-Christian faiths than they are toward their Quaker brothers and sisters who claim membership in the Christian tradition (I cherish the Christian Scriptures and read them daily — I sometimes read the scriptures of other religions, but they will never be central to my life) but who believe differently about Jesus.
Hi Barbara:
thanks for setting that good example of speaking for yourself. We all need to remember to do that, yep! I quite agree that we all have different concepts and relationships to God, Jesus, the Light, etc. Self-censorship like I described can be a problem, but so too is using Christian lanuage without really feeling that leading to do so. The Spirit trumps all the conceptual language we bring to explain it.
>After some of the ungracious exchanges that
>I have read on some Quaker discussion lists
Yes, well internet religion lists are a refuge for the doctrinare, yep. There’s a core of people that obsessively sign up for every list and post dozens of messages a week to a dozen lists. I’m not sure Quakerism is best represented by the internet in general, but it’s certainly not well represented on the various discussion lists!
Oh boy, I’m being tested here. I’m filling out an application asking for my “commitment to the Quaker faith and values as you understand them.” There’s about two lines to answer that. How can you answer a question like this without resorting to something vaguely creedal. Can you use language to hint at the truth as you see it without just blindly affirming words. Here’s my attempt:
bq. I believe we’re a Society gathered together to witness to the Truth of the Spirit, disciplining ourselves as a body to follow God’s rule. Our values and testimonies articulate our understanding of ourselves as a community in the body of Christ and our activism is most effective when inspired and supported by the Spirit.
I didn’t want to omit the Christ word but I didn’t want to just name-drop as if to show what team I’m on.