By James Riemermann
Here’s a thought-provoking comment that James left a few days ago on the “We’re All Ranters Now”:http://www.nonviolence.org/Quaker/ranters.php piece. It’s an important testimony and a good challenge. I’m stumped trying to answer it upon first reading, which means it’s definitely worth featuring!
There is much expressed in these pages which I can heartily support. Certainly, if Friends are reluctant to speak of God or Christ in the Religious Society of Friends for fear of disapproval or censure, something needs to be corrected. We cannot build deep, loving community in an atmosphere of anxiety and mistrust.
I also discern a sense that the author and many visitors to this site feel that many Friends are more interested in an easy, comfortable, unchallenging social and political club, than a place for serious spiritual growth and challenge. If you wish to call that being “convicted in our sin,” so be it. The phrase does not speak to me, but I think its meaning does.
At the same time, I discern a sense here – rarely explicit, but frequently implied – that what liberal Quakers need is a good purging, a removal of those Friends who don’t believe what “we” think Friends should believe. Who “we” are, and precisely which beliefs are acceptable and unacceptable, is very much in question.
I don’t believe in God, and have spent the last 15 years among Friends trying to understand, among many other things, why I feel so irrestibly drawn to a community and religious society in which the central term is God. My relationship with that community is at the center of my life, and has transformed and improved me in ways that make me deeply grateful and reverent for whatever it is we experience or create together. It has not made me a theist.
In my large and very liberal meeting, a fair number of messages in meeting for worship invoke the name of God or Christ or Jesus. Perhaps a larger percentage do not, including many from Friends I know to be Christians of various sorts. That a message does not invoke the name of God, does not prove or even suggest that God is not present in the message. If I am mistaken and God does exist, surely he is manifest in all creation and humanity, and not merely at those moments when we invoke his name. If I am mistaken and God does exist, surely he is manifest in me, and in what I bring to my meeting, and what my meeting brings to me. Surely your conception of God is not that he is only present in the lives of those who hold certain theological propositions to be true. Or am I mistaken about this as well?
I do experience something mysterious and profound and life-changing in my religious life among Friends. I have a hard time describing it, though I occasionally try in my flawed and halting language. Perhaps the experience I have is the same as, or deeply similar to, that which you call God. For me to use that term would be misleading, even dishonest, because, mysterious as my experience sometimes is, nothing about it strikes me as unnatural. It is something beyond me, naturally, as it springs not from my own doing, but from the encounter or relationship between me and others, between me and the world. It is neither here nor there, but a living bond that comes from being alive in the world with other living beings. There is something sacred in that bond, and acting in ways that tend to violate it is not righteous. I depend on my community for many things, and one of those things is to keep me honest to that bond. I submit myself to that discipline freely and joyfully, and my willingness springs from the faith I have in the goodness of that community. I do not and cannot, however, submit my mind, my beliefs – my measure of the light – to any authority. To do so would be a violation of my integrity, and it is not in the tradition of George Fox or the founders to demand this sort of obedience, nor to deny the blessing of our community to those who will not state agreement with certain theological propositions.
I am confident that Fox and his followers would have been shocked to see the theological diversity that is the reality of modern liberal Friends. He also would have been shocked, I suspect, to learn that the creation story/stories of Genesis, taken literally, would soon be proven by science to be clearly and absolutely false. Given his unshakeable integrity, given the radical nature of his ministry, given 300 more years of light and learning, I think his beliefs would have changed in many ways that are hard to imagine. Should we have not changed during this period?
My goal is not to change Friends, though my presence among them will probably have some small effect. Like Popeye and Luther, I am what I am. At the same time, I applaud and honor the Christians and others whose faith in God is utterly central to everything of value in their lives. It would grieve me deeply if you were reluctant to speak your faith in worship to avoid offending me. Sometimes your language about God speaks to me very deeply, though on a metaphorical level. Other times, not so much. In any case, your beliefs are important to me. I want to know you. I would like for us to remain Friends.
Either way, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
This piece originally appeared as a comment on “We’re All Ranters Now”:http://www.nonviolence.org/Quaker/ranters.php.
While many parts of this evoke a sympathetic response from me, I’ll just respond to one piece.
“I do not and cannot, however, submit my mind, my beliefsmy measure of the lightto any authority. To do so would be a violation of my integrity, and it is not in the tradition of George Fox or the founders to demand this sort of obedience, nor to deny the blessing of our community to those who will not state agreement with certain theological propositions.” ‑J.R.
Actually, I think this is what separated Quakers from Ranters in the first place, in my limited historical knowledge.
George Fox, and many others, did establish and submit to the authority of the gathered worshipping community as the proper check of individual leadings, along with Scripture, to prevent us from running out into foolish notions. One of the interesting things about Quaker authority was that disownment didn’t mean one couldn’t worship with the community, but that one couldn’t speak for Friends if one wasn’t willing to submit to testing by the authority of the Meeting.
Among modern U.S. Friends, our unwillingness to submit our individual leadings and lives to community oversight is more reflective of our individualist materialistic culture than of fidelity to Quaker tradition.
I’m writing in love and truth, and I hope my words will be read that way. I don’t feel any need for “purging”. My perception of our church is that there is a gathered guided people, called to follow Christ, who do so with great faith and struggle and integrity. There are also a great number of people who are drawn to the fruits of the community, the outgrowth of the Testimony of life in Christ in environmental and social justice, personal, local and wider peace work, nonviolence and so on. My understanding is that all these grow from one root — and that is non-dogmatic, humble discipleship to Jesus Christ, head of the Church.
The fellow-travellers are an integral part of the work of the society in the world, and not all of them have an understanding of Love’s power or the reality of Divine presence and guidance. That’s fine with me. I was a member of the Society for at least 15 years and did many years of study of Quaker theologies, history, journal, took lots of courses at Woodbrooke etc, and yet only recently started to “get it” for myself.
Mostly that happened because three or four people I respected in the Society were able to say directly to me “but actually it’s all about following Christ isn’t it? Everything else follows if I can put that first”. From that witness I started out as what I called an “atheist Christian”, reading the gospels, watching the lives of believers I knew, knowing that something there was my clue to full abundant life.
I started to try to follow, to live the real Love that Jesus and his disciples did. I don’t feel I can do it out of my “own power”, but only in appropriate dependence on that greater Love which moves through me. Now I feel I really do have faith, and it is founded on the manifest reality of Love, and now an understanding that the Divine is the ultimate reality, no need to fear it breaking or “try to beleive” anything. I haven’t sold all that I have to join the poorest (yet?!) but I am learning at His feet and following Him as I am able.
I realise that probably the people whom I call fellow-travellers see things totally differently! Probably some of them think I am trapped in illusion, living in the past or something. To me, after many years of chewing on it, Quakerism doesn’t make sense without Christ at the centre, although it works fine with a lot of people coming along because of what His guidance produces. There might be a way of living in the power and life of Christ without using that language — I think Gandhi was doing so — but at the moment I need to use the Name to find my way to Him. I am living in response the grace that I have been given, and I am very thankful for it.
Wow, Alice. That is very powerful testimony. I’d repost it to thy blog if I were thee. I feel that I am following a similar path, though I don’t think I’ve gotten quite as far as you. I don’t think I’m an “atheist christian”, but I feel I am something equally ambivalent. I often feel an overwhelming, almost crushing sense that the truth about God is unfathomable, unspeakable, undefinable, beyond all thought, speech, writing, and understanding, reachable only through Love. Sometimes I feel as though anything I could say or claim about the nature and existence of God would necessarily be so far from the reality, it would be almost a lie, and therefore increase my ignorance of God’s true nature. From the outside, this can look a lot like atheism. When James R says:
I do experience something mysterious and profound and life-changing in my religious life among Friends. I have a hard time describing it, though I occasionally try in my flawed and halting language. Perhaps the experience I have is the same as, or deeply similar to, that which you call God. For me to use that term would be misleading, even dishonest, because, mysterious as my experience sometimes is, nothing about it strikes me as unnatural. It is something beyond me, naturally, as it springs not from my own doing, but from the encounter or relationship between me and others, between me and the world. It is neither here nor there, but a living bond that comes from being alive in the world with other living beings.”
I feel that I know exactly what he means.
As for the Christian part, I am struggling with this. I am trying to unify my experience of Christ with my experience of Jesus. Do I follow Christ? How do we define Christ? As Love? As the gospel Jesus? If I say that I follow Love, and if Love is perfectly expressed in the person of Jesus, am I a default Christian? That would be nice.
“Certainly, if Friends are reluctant to speak of God or Christ in the Religious Society of Friends for fear of disapproval or censure, something needs to be corrected. We cannot build deep, loving community in an atmosphere of anxiety and mistrust. … It would grieve me deeply if you were reluctant to speak your faith in worship to avoid offending me. … In any case, your beliefs are important to me…” J.R.
This whole piece is one of the most eloquent expositions I’ve ever read of the “Tolerance Is the Greatest Good” theory.
The deepest dedication to Truth does not require us to deny other’s attempts to understand, but it does not require us to accept all understandings as equal.
Hi Friends (and Hi James)!
I go to the same meeting as James. Let me first address what I feel is at the heart of James message — a fear that he will be “purged” — deemed expendable in a spiritual way, which is one of the most intimate parts of our lives.
I don’t think our meeting will ever feel that way about you, James. I don’t feel that way about you even though I disagree with you so profoundly about issues of our religion. I’ll add, too, that I feel called by God to seek membership the meeting, and that I feel that I have a great deal to learn from it, and from you.
I don’t think the problem is that there are some individuals in meeting who don’t believe in God. I think the problem is that there is not a concensus about what we are doing together. If that concensus were there, then different perspectives would be less likely to change the course of the religion, and I believe that falling away from God is profoundly changing the course of the religion. (Of course that change started happening long before I became a Quaker!)
Although I think that God was not the core of our corporate worship at our particular meeting — maybe since it began during World War II — it feels to me that James being vocal about his perspective, and starting a Quakers without God group, made this official. I am profoundly disappointed about that, but I guess it’s best to have things out in the open so to speak.
I see the lack of spiritual concensus as a grave weakness in our meeting. To address that, I am spending a lot less energy on our meeting, helping to start a Conservative-leaning worship group. Maybe some day it will become a meeting of its own. (And at the same time, I am seeking membership in our meeting.)
Here’s the obstacles that I see coming up when there is not a concensus that the community is worshiping God:
Like I said when James gave a presentation about Quakers without God at our meeting, I feel like worshiping God collectively is a real and fairly specific thing to be doing. I want to restate that for emphasis. Seeking and worshiping God is a real thing for me (not a metaphor), and doing it corporately is not the same as doing it individually. I can’t overstate how important that concept is in understanding where I’m coming from.
After reading Friends for 300 Years and seeing a sign every time I walk in the meeting house that says we’re seeking God together, I had the impression that’s what we were doing, but there is not that concensus.
I like to compare seeking God corporately in Quaker meeting to playing basketball. Playing basketball is not the only way to be an athlete. It’s not the only way to be a good person. But it is a fairly specific thing, and it is something that must be done with other people.
I find in our meeting, we’re not playing basketball together. Some people are playing basketball. Some are doing tai chi. Some are doing aerobics. Some are doing stretches to prepare for cross-country running. It’s nice to see people getting exercise and putting so much work into their fitness. It’s a a nice environment for lots of people. (I know that many people are very happy with our Meeting and its spiritual diversity.) But it is not basketball!
I think that because we have such variety in purpose, we lose great potential for depth. If we were all “playing the same game,” we’d have people to encourage us to become better basketball players and to show us what that means and to challenge us in the game.
Also, our structure of business was designed to be done by a group of people who was all seeking God (and Christ) together. I think it starts unravelling and becomes very hard to keep up the spiritual momentum in a community where there’s not that concensus. Not that people like James unravel the momentum– that’s not true. James has a depth to him that is really beautiful to feel while worshiping or doing committee work together. But in committee work or meeting for business, because we can’t say “OK, let’s seek God now” without knowing that that’s like opening a debate, then it’s really hard to have high standards in the way we do business and committee work.
I know once when we were talking about this James, you said that maybe I want to have more spiritual unity because it is possible for me, as a Christian, to go to other houses of worship and find people who agree with me. Because that is so present in the world, then I expect it at meeting, too.
I’m not just a Christian though; I’m a Quaker. I want to practice the religion that I fell in love with when I read Friends for 300 Years, and when I had the Holy Spirit fall on me the first time I visited our meeting. I want enough of a collective understanding of purpose to be able facilitate corporate worship, corporate business, corporate discernment of leadings.
Like I said, I see our meeting’s lack of collective purpose as something that was there long before James or I were a part of meeting. It’s not his “fault.” (And I recognize that most people there see it as a strength, and not a fault at all.)
We can maintain standards without purging if we have groups that are passionately engaged in collective pursuit — and if we can articulate what we’re doing. That’s what I’m seeking in my small worship group.
Interestingly enough, I see our larger meeting (that James and I share) as cultivating a selective membership, too. People who feel like they don’t fit in because they need a stronger sense of focus or a more traditional Quakerism just leave. Or they back up, like I have done. A place of worship can not be everything to everybody, and “purging” is in fact happening at our meeting in a more subtle, self-selective way than someone in authority saying, “We disagree! You’re out!”
I respect the work that you are doing Martin, as a Conservative-leaning, vocal young friend, kind of like me. I’d really like to hear more of your thoughts about this issue.
In the Light,
Elizabeth
This whole piece is one of the most eloquent expositions Ive ever read of the Tolerance Is the Greatest Good theory.
The deepest dedication to Truth does not require us to deny others attempts to understand, but it does not require us to accept all understandings as equal.
Given the negative spin put on the word “tolerance” on many conservative-liberal-quaker blogs, I’m not sure if this is a criticism or a compliment. If the latter, I thank you. If the former…I still thank you.
To clarify my own view, I don’t feel tolerance is the “greatest good.” It is certainly one of the greater goods, and abandoning it as a value has played a central part in most of the greatest crimes in history, religious and secular alike. It is not everything, but it is far more than the milquetoast niceness it is often criticized for being.
I agree that not all human undertandings are equal. Some, such as National Socialism, are positively abysmal. Others, such as a dedication to kindness and humility, are sublime. Between the poles, it can be harder to sort it all out. I am certainly a long way from having it sorted out.
Hey James — thanks for your putting your beliefs into words and thanks Martin for posting them. Now, rather than an implied “liberal Quakers need a good purging” (glad we ‘Christo-centric’ Quakers aren’t the only paranoid ones out there) I prefer to think of this blogosphere as a sort of place to process familial tensions, and a place to sort out our own beliefs thru threshing, discussion, eldering, some spanking, and even discernment. Kind of like a corner electronic bar for Quakers. I’m in full throttle agreement with Robin Mohr and appreciate her insights. I gotta point out something that implies that God is ‘unnatural’, altho I’m sure that is not quite your meaning, but:
“Perhaps the experience I have is the same as, or deeply similar to, that which you call God. For me to use that term would be misleading, even dishonest, because, mysterious as my experience sometimes is, nothing about it strikes me as unnatural.”
Does this imply that if God and/or the Holy Spirit is the mysterious something, that somehow makes it unnatural? Supernatural perhaps, but this to is a misnomer. Apparent supernatural, but God is ‘natural’ and we are probably more of the abberent materialists. Also:
“He also would have been shocked, I suspect, to learn that the creation story/stories of Genesis, taken literally, would soon be proven by science to be clearly and absolutely false.”
Oh, James honey, not all Christians buy into the ‘creation science’ crap that says the world was created 6,000 years ago or some such nonsense. Science has not proven creation as ‘absolutely false’ if you believe the Genesis account as a deeper mythic but TRUE spiritual account of creation. James, the Holy Spirit has to reveal God to you, without this, its all foolishness and confounding and apparently hokum. The Spirit is seen with spiritual eyes. Ask and you shall receive.
I go to the same meeting as James. Let me first address what I feel is at the heart of James message a fear that he will be purged deemed expendable in a spiritual way, which is one of the most intimate parts of our lives.
Elizabeth,
Thanks for you heartfelt message. I have responded to you in full off-blog. For the public record, though, I do not at all fear being purged by Twin Cities Friends Meeting. I feel very much within the arms of our meeting. I know there are a handful of Friends there who are troubled by the vocal presence of folks like me, and wish to support those Friends in any way short of withdrawal, but I do not feel in the least threatened or worried for my own sake.
I have spoken with nontheist Friends with other meetings, however, who have been berated, insulted and even removed from their meetings for their beliefs. I speak only for myself, but it is the suffering of these Friends that moves me. A tone of intolerance, even a subtle one, can have sad consequences in people’s lives.
Hi again Friends
This debate is such an emotional one for me. Until I can get myself in check and approach it with a greater measure of Christ’s peace, I’m going to have to drop out.
Maybe I’m outrunning my guide as I post this comment. (Like having a last cigarette before quitting!) It is directed at those of you who, like me, believe that a meeting with a corporate focus on God is precious and irreplacable.
We will need to be extremely gentle as we set boundaries that allow us to practice our faith. This does not mean that we should not or can not set boundaries, but it means that we can’t ever do it with even a hint of mean spiritedness or pride. Boundaries don’t necesarily mean kicking people out.
I think we need to worship and pray as much as we can to build up the spiritual maturity that it will take to discern God’s will and to act not according to pride and emotion in this.
In prayer,
Elizabeth
So, Martin. What’s your point? I had expected to hear more from you, or are you not blogging in April now too?
I am struggling with how to comment on a topic which I have some very strong opinions, between a widely Quaker tendency to avoid conflict and a concern not to criticize a person I don’t even know.
I am torn between taking a big, fat (verbal) swing at the inconsistencies in this post and trying to keep in mind the real human being who wrote it; between not wanting to mince words just to be nice and not wanting to get carried away from the unvarnished truth.
I pray for guidance from God as to how much time I should even spend thinking about this.
Hi Robin,
Sorry to leave you, James and everyone else hanging. I thought James asked some very good questions and I think it deserves significant prayer and thought before I answer. It also requires a free hour or two to pull it altogether. Various threads have been running through my head but I won’t understand how they weave together until I sit down and start writing. Martin
I’ve been traveling for the past week (and still am) and only now have had an opportunity to look at a few blogs.
James, I’m so glad you took the time to post your thoughts and that they found their way here. Your clarity about your place among Friends is something I have always appreciated about you (James, Elizabeth, and I all attend the same meeting). As I’ve written elsewhere, it’s when people are grounded in their faith that real dialogue and sharing can happen, without the fear of being converted.
Each time I listen to you, James, I cannot help but feel viscerally that you and I are experiencing the same Thing That Cannot Be Named Or Captured In Words. Maybe you are being more faithful by not naming It, and I am simply using a word I am familiar with: God. But your tenderness and your commitment to the meeting-community is clear to me, and I know experimentally the power of belonging and of Being Home.
At the same time, Elizabeth, your description of the power of the worship group in which we both participate speaks to my condition.
In a variety of ways over the years, I have pursued lifting up to the monthly meeting my concern about just how liberal this Liberal Friends Meeting is. I have never felt fully heard, never felt fully “listened into Truth,” never felt as though Friends or the meeting wished to labor with me. Like Elizabeth, I have looked elsewhere for spiritually Quaker nourishment that supports my journey to be faithful to the Divine, and the inward transformation that accompanies such a journey.
Slowly over a number of months, I am coming to understand that the meeting and I are not a good fit for one another; and though I feel a bit released from the initial call for me to raise the concern I mentioned, I also am clear that I am not released from participating in the monthly meeting for the time-being. So I stay and discern where God is calling me among these Friends who have, in fact, carried me thus far.
In some ways, as I type this, I feel like the mother in the story of the King who, when confronted with two women claiming to be the mother of a certain child, declared the child be cut in two, so that each woman may have a fair portion: I love Quakerism so much that I do not wish to see it cut in two. I would prefer to leave it whole and allow nontheist Quakers to live up to their measure of Light; and I myself will know the child lives on and grows, and I will find other such mothers and fathers who have made similar choices…
This analogy is not quite right, but it is what occurs to me for now.
And now I must go and catch a plane!
Blessings,
Liz
“Perhaps the experience I have is the same as, or deeply similar to, that which you call God. For me to use that term would be misleading, even dishonest, because, mysterious as my experience sometimes is, nothing about it strikes me as unnatural. It is something beyond me, naturally, as it springs not from my own doing, but from the encounter or relationship between me and others, between me and the world. It is neither here nor there, but a living bond that comes from being alive in the world with other living beings. There is something sacred in that bond, and acting in ways that tend to violate it is not righteous. I depend on my community for many things, and one of those things is to keep me honest to that bond. I submit myself to that discipline freely and joyfully, and my willingness springs from the faith I have in the goodness of that community. I do not and cannot, however, submit my mind, my beliefsmy measure of the lightto any authority.”
First, James, let me say that what you wrote was elegantly written and spoke to me on many levels, if not all. I feel that, although I’m comfortable with using the word God when referring to the energy/relationship you identify with, we feel and believe very similiar things. I am not, however (like you), comfortable with the word Christ, despite my willingness to use God as a sort of default when no other word can describe the relationship I feel with the world around me.
When I think of the word Christ, I think of someone walking the earth who was considered more a part of God than the rest of us, who wasn’t just enlightened (like Buddha or Ghandi, etc.), but WAS God, in a way that implies the rest of us are God to a lesser degree by first being led by Christ. I’m not comfortable with this, although I respect and admire those who live simple, worshipful lives with these beliefs.
I think of Jesus as a man, like Buddha, who was wise, enlightened, and whose teachings are invaluable, but I do not consider him anymore God than Buddha, or myself, or any other part or person of this earth. I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of believing that one person was EVER, on this earth or in this universe, more a part of God or more in tune with God than anyone else was or will be.
I love the teachings of Jesus like I love any wise teachings that guide me further down a path toward my own Truth. I love Buddhist teachings in the same way, as indispensable wisdom and sources of insight. I don’t feel it necessary or comfortable to associate my spiritual path with a corporal deity, especially when I feel that believing in the Christian term Christ would also imply certain things I don’t accept when thinking of the term God… were I to consider the term God consistent with the term Christ, I would no longer believe in “God.”
I think what you said really spoke to me, and pointed out certain ways in which I myself don’t believe in the typical ideas of God, but also ways in which you and I believe in the same things and I can more easily call them God, as long as my definition of God can encompass any number of connected relationships between everything, a Light that remains within all of us, and a simplicity that for me doesn’t require holier names for one of many great and holy men.
I say all of the above with love for ALL shapes of faith. I just wanted to express something that formed in my mind when reading the original post, and also express gratitude for those who have spoken my mind in this conversation. 🙂 It’s done great good for me to see this conversation, being newer to the Quaker faith, and learning about so many different ideas of God and our faith.
Alice said “Quakerism doesnt make sense without Christ at the centre.”
For me, it doesn’t make sense with any one person at the center, especially if there is that of God is each of us. 🙂 I don’t know if that makes sense to any of you, but I see so many additional teachers with whom I hold the same reverence as Jesus. What I deeply love about the Quaker faith is that, despite this huge difference of opinion, I would still be welcome to worship with you, and I would still welcome you to worship with me. 🙂 That, in itself, is a lesson in tolerance to me, and hopefully to those with more Christ-based beliefs as well.
As a Christian Quaker I notice sometimes that when I speak of my Christianity some people tend to wince a little.
And you know what? — - I don’t blame them.
When I look at what some men have done to the use of the Bible to marginalize, condemn and hurt people through history; when I see the idea of Jesus used to support militarism; when I see what some people have done to one another in the name of that faith; I have to openly wonder what Christianity could possibly have for me that I could use.
And since this I perceive as the actions of mainstream Christianity — along with the arguments in the vestibule about which sized cross to march in with — it isn’t a surprise that people may be uncomfortable with my being a Christian or speaking about Jesus.
But I came to differentiate between the idea and the way men have used the idea, and when I did this I did experience a kind of opening.
Buddhism did not influence the Khmer Rouge, but Pol Pot did grow in a Buddhist culture. And this wasn’t the Buddha’s idea. Christianity didn’t cause the Holocaust, the Nazis did. And this wasn’t the teachings of Jesus. It wasn’t — it couldn’t have been — Allah who ordered 9/11.
Therefore I see that it is the use men make of these things that is and can be the great wrong.
And to the argument that the different tracks that exist within the world of Friends are a problem; I think this is the case only to the degree we each use our modalities in the wrong way.
Look — to the wider world Quakers are still peculiar. I submit we are an echo of the founders of America at least in one way; we either hang together or we will surely hang separately.
James, you wrote: “I dont believe in God.” I’m interested in what God don’t you believe in? God is a 3 letter word and means zillions of things to zillions of people. How about “your ultimate concern” (Tillich)? Do you have one?
If you could explicate the background for your disbelief in God, it might be healing to many.
Incidentally at Langley Hill MM (Northern VA) an old gentleman had been going to meeting with his wife for 50 years and called himself an atheist. Then he applied for membership– no problem.
Belief in over-rated. In spite of most biblical interpreters Jesus never expected us to believe any set of intellectual propositions. He just asked us to love God (goodness, mercy, justice, whatever) and our neighbor. I suspect you do that, James. By my book that makes you a Christian.
Larry,
I appreciate the obvious good will in your comment. And I agree that “belief is over-rated”. However, I am not a Christian. To equate a love of goodness with Christianity, if you think about it, is rather dismissive of the countless non-Christians in the world who love goodness, or at least try to do so. Christianity is one path among many. Or, more honestly, Christianity is many paths among many – the perspective of Christians in the world is not unified, in fact has never been unified. At its best (which is to say, infrequently) it has been a collection of diverse humans united in caring community, not in a belief system.
From my reading of the Gospels, I can’t accept that Jesus thought of God as just another word for “goodness, mercy, justice, whatever.” He was talking about the lord of creation, whom he held to be supremely good, merciful and just, and whom he expected to radically transform the nature of creation in the very near future. He was certainly revolutionary in his attempts to erase boundaries between the clean and the unclean in his highly stratified culture, but he did have some particular and somewhat traditional beliefs about God – beliefs which I do not accept. Paul and the early Christians had another, somewhat different set of beliefs, many of which Jesus seemed to show no signs of sharing.
I know we could work over the definition of God until I could be included in the circle of those who believe in God. I have no desire to do so, as it would feel dishonest. The word can mean countless things, yes, but it has always had strong associations with concepts such as the self-aware creator of the universe; the self-aware ruler of the universe; an overarching and beneficent purpose to the universe; and many other concepts which do not resonate for me.
“My ultimate concern” is not singular, but even if it were that does not strike me as a historically coherent or honest description of God. If I had to pick one concern – and I am very reluctant to do so – it would be compassion for the suffering of all living creatures.
I’m not sure what you mean by “the background for [my] disbelief.” I don’t remember ever having believed in the existence of God, though I have long found the “concept” of God, the poetic force of a personalization of the universe, deeply compelling. I often find it expressive, useful, beautiful, reflective of human yearning, but not “true” in the sense of “an accurate description of the reality outside of my mind.”
He just asked us to love God (goodness, mercy, justice, whatever) and our neighbor. I suspect you do that, James. By my book that makes you a Christian.
You imply here that God can be *defined* in terms of goodness, mercy, justice, etc., which would imply that anyone who believes in these things would be a Christian in your book… I think a Christian definition of God is a little more than just an vague idea of goodness, mercy or justice, and that to claim that anyone who believes in concepts of basic goodness and peace and love is Christian is a little inaccurate, at least for me. I think what matters more is what each individual sees themself as, and while I appreciate what you’re saying, you may run into bad feelings from a faithful Jew, Buddhist, atheist, or other persons of non-Christian faith by claiming that because they believe in good, they are actually Christian. I think it’s a little more than that to most Christians, and not necessarily for wrong perceptions. There *are* distinctive beliefs that separate traditional Christians from Jewish, Buddhist, and agnostic/atheist people. While I admire self-defined Christians and their beliefs, I think it’s important not to impose definitions on others’ faith so that they will fit into Christianity.
🙂 You could probably word it in a way that I would probably be considered Christian, but I wouldn’t be comfortable with that, just as you might be uncomfortable with me wording agnosticism in a broad way that might include yourself, so that you would fit into my beliefs. I think it’s important to allow distinctions and differences in the particulars of each faith, and in accepting that we are not all Christian but still believe in good, find further understanding of unique or different spiritual beliefs.
Hi Brandice and everyone,
I am hearing your point about not wanting labels that don’t apply. But my experience of G‑d is that G‑d is the goodness. I’m not trying to be inclusive, I’m saying what is true for me, and it does seem scary to try to describe my experience of the Divine Power in this public forum because this is what is most precious to me. But it is also the Liberating Truth that has freed my soul, and having been trusted with this understanding which has such power and blessing for me. I owe the liberating power a witness. The presence of love, kindness, goodness in the universe is manifestly real. Love does exist, people do incredible things out of love every day. Love, G‑d’s Power, can move people beyond their limitations and frailties to manifest the Glory of Love in the world.
For me, the creative power, G‑d, is all the goodness, all the love that is in the universe, opening every flower, enticing every shoot to unfurl from the seed. G‑d is the creative, prospering power in the universe and the reason the universe exists. Like Teilhard de Chardin’s Prime Entelechy(sense 2 in this definition)? The flow of Divine love is the impetus and also the pattern and the road and the promise of the future. That real love is an infinitely merciful power.
Christ Jesus is the seed potential in every living thing. In one body, He was able to transform lives so deeply that the effects are still ringing about the world today and His risen presence, His spirit is both whatever enlightening power there is in our meetings and our hearts, and the comforter that allows us to bear the sorrow of witnessing the difficult parts of our human nature. He is the ray of light that illuminates the consciousness to see the next step forward and He is the seed that is unfolding in each of us dedicated to Divine Goodness.
I’m throwing words at this, trying to describe how I experience the world. I hope I might be communicating it, but who knows? Love and Blessings.
In one body, He was able to transform lives so deeply that the effects are still ringing about the world today
For me, I can look at this statement and say the same thing about Buddha, to an equal or possibly even greater extent. 🙂 There are actually more Buddhists in the world than there are Christians.
Your words were very well spoken and I agreed with everything thing but that one paragraph. That’s where it’s different for me, and that’s why, while I respect and identify with a lot of Christian beliefs, I can’t say that I’m Christian. 🙂 I hope that makes sense, the reference to Buddha’s influence being very similiar or even wider spread than Jesus Christ’s. I hold them with equal reverence, in addition to many other spiritually enlightened teachers over the years, and I think that’s what makes the difference for me.
Hello, Brandice. I don’t think most Quakers believe Jesus “had more God in him” than anybody else. There’s a terrible assumption being made there – that Jesus was “just” a human.
Thee has to understand that “that of God in everyone” comes from Jesus Christ. It is the indwelling Jesus Christ in our hearts and souls. That “still small voice” is Jesus Christ. Without Christ, one cannot have “that of God” because Christ is God in human form.
It seems like thee is assuming that Jesus was “only” a person, like me or thee. Most Quakers I know (myself included) understand Jesus as at the very least more than a wise human being.
I am reminded very much of a paragraph from C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity. He says it far better than I could ever hope to: “I am trying to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I am ready to accept Jesus as the great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on a level with the man who says he is a boiled egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
Harold does a great job, I think of presenting what I feel (and what I heard from Brandice & James) about the difficulty of saying “if you’re loving, you are a christian”
certainly many christians hope to be loving, as do many non-christians. For “Christian” to mean anything beyond “loving person” (and if it did, Alice, I assume you could just as easily call yourself a loving atheist, and adopt James’ words, rather than asking him to adopt yours, in seeking “unity”
I disagree with Harold (and CS Lewis) that Jesus must either be the Son of God (in a way that we are not) or a lunatic, perhaps only because it makes me uncomfortable (perhaps I should take solace in the idea that many mystics walk the line of lunacy?)
Since nothing was written down at the time, and all of the Bible is the interpretation of human beings, I am willing to believe that his words when read to say that he is the ONLY WAY to God and such, are simply poorly understood metaphors or suchlike.
In any case, that he was more than human simply does not resonate with me, logically or spiritually. And therefore it is dishonest (as James says) to identify as a christian, no matter how loving I may aim to be.
I have talked to many folks (well, a few) who are now Christians due to a mystical experience. Jesus came and sat down next to them, held them, called out to them. While such an experience would surely scare the pants off me, I also feel a bit of envy, or grief, that I have not had one. But that does not change the fact that I have not.
What am I then to do?
“I love Quakerism so much that I do not wish to see it cut in two. I would prefer to leave it whole and allow nontheist Quakers to live up to their measure of Light…” — Liz, in a previous comment.
In another post, “We are all ranters now,” Martin expressed discomfort with hyphenated Quakers. You know, Buddist-Quakers, Catholic-Quakers…
I only started attending last summer, so I don’t yet know much about what being a Quaker means. But I am very much drawn to what I see: People seeking and cultivating the Light in themselves, nurturing it in each other, working together to form a community, working to translate their spiritual growth into real-world actions.
I do not want to be an Atheist-Quaker. I want to be a Quaker. I intend to cultivate the Light in myself and to work with the Quaker communities for a variety of good purposes. As far as I can tell, that’s what being a Quaker is about (though I’m sure I’ll learn more aspects).
For me, the Light is not a euphemism; it is a real thing, something to be cultivated, something that will improve me and show me how to improve the world. On the other hand, the word and concept of God are distractions from my practice. For me, God is a nebulous concept that does not have a tangible reality, and that does have a tangle of bad and misleading associations.
I began this post by quoting Liz because she put into words something that I have been feeling strongly over the past few weeks while thinking about other schisms and potential schisms. It is a tragic and terrible thing to say, “You’re not really a Quaker.”
And “You’re not really a Quaker” is really what each schism is saying. Quakers could say, “We have different leadings or understandings – come, let’s worship together, and thresh, and discern, and accept that we are all imperfect, and let’s cultivate our Light, and value our community, and recognize that not every difference is an imperfection.”
Is there a difference between non-theists and Bible-based Quakers? Yes, of course there is. Are we both Quakers? I believe we are. Will this cause discomfort? Yes. I recently attended a meeting that began with hymns, and I found that in honesty I had to refrain from singing half of them.
I would never ask that the hymns not be sung. But I would ask those who sing them to worship with me and work with me as a fellow Quaker. And I would never ask that God not be mentioned, or even invoked; my respect for Quaker tradition makes me accept and even value the invocation of God as part of the community process, even if I do not value “God” personally.
Chris
Chris writes: “It is a tragic and terrible thing to say, âYouâre not really a Quaker.â And âYouâre not really a Quakerâ is really what each schism is saying. Quakers could say, âWe have different leadings or understandingsâcome, letâs worship together, and thresh, and discern, and accept that we are all imperfect, and letâs cultivate our Light, and value our community, and recognize that not every difference is an imperfection.â
Yes – lovely, and true.
“I do not want to be an Atheist-Quaker. I want to be a Quaker.”
I think I understand the value of what you are saying here. I don’t want a diluted, watered down Quakerism, nor do I want to simply flirt with Quakerism. But I do want my Quakerism, which is to say my humanity, to be exactly as complicated and problematic and genuine as it has to be in a person like me, or you, or Liz, or Martin. I am an atheist, and an agnostic, and a Jew, and a Quaker, and many other things, and each of these carry some aspects of truth about me. But none of those words begin to grasp what I am, and how I am similar to and different from all of you, from all of Quakerdom, all of humanity. Likewise for the words all of us use to describe ourselves, I think. This is a strength, not a weakness.
I am dedicated to the practice and community of Quakerism I have found, but I have little interest in finding out exactly what a Quaker is supposed to be, so that I can turn myself into that at the expense of being who I am.