'Not a notion but a way.' Photo: Tom Swinnen via pexels.com.
Not a notion but a way
Henry S Thompson, to coincide with the first anniversary of the publication of 'God, words and us', writes about faith and practice
The book God, words and us, edited by Helen Rowlands, is a good thing to have done. It is thoughtful and worth reading but, for me, ultimately disappointing – an opportunity missed. Maybe focussing on the language that divides us was necessary, and the light this book shines on the nature of that division is valuable. However, it feels to me as if it got trapped by its own success and never got past a fundamental assumption that guaranteed its eventual limitations.
The key – but mistaken, in my opinion – assumption is that what we need to talk about as Quakers is what we believe. In my view, that is not the right way to look for what unites us as Quakers. After all, the single thing we can confidently say unites Britain Yearly Meeting is that we go to Meeting for Worship. Our identity is not determined by what we believe, but by what we do.
Choices
If you only look at the language of belief, you miss a whole different way of looking at religious identity. Choices with respect to the language of belief are what distinguish many – even most – Christian denominations, but that’s something Quakers have stood aside from: we don’t do creeds.
Further, we’re not the only religion that is not best understood in terms of belief, and recognising that points us towards a better way to distinguish ourselves, by shifting the focus from belief to practice, from orthodoxy to orthopraxy.
I do not claim originality in suggesting this, because it is at the heart of what Ben Pink Dandelion has been saying for some time. Also, this is what John Punshon pretty much exactly writes in Quaker faith & practice 20.18:
Ever since I first came among Friends, I was attracted to the testimonies as an ideal. I wanted to belong to a church which made the rejection of warfare a collective commitment and not just a personal option. I admired a simplicity, a devotion to equality, and a respect for others which reflected what I already knew of Christ. In a deceitful world I warmed to those who did not swear oaths and strove to tell the truth in all circumstances. But this was a beginning in the spiritual life. The seed that was sown in my mind and my politics struck root in my soul and my faith.
The choice of the word “testimony” is instructive. The testimonies are ways of behaving but are not ethical rules. They are matters of practice but imply doctrines. They refer to human society but are about God. Though often talked about they lack an authoritative formulation…
A “testimony” is a declaration of truth or fact… It is not an ejaculation, a way of letting off steam or baring one’s soul. It has a purpose, and that is to get other people to change, to turn to God. Such an enterprise, be it in words or by conduct and example, is in essence prophetic and evangelical.
Some well-known phrases also make my point:
Let your life speak…
Be patterns, be examples…
Testimonies to the grace of God in the lives of…
As Friends we commit ourselves to a way of worship… in the manner of Friends…
Swear not at all…
Try to live simply…
Our historic testimonies… challenge us to alleviate suffering and seek positive social change
Live in the virtue of that life and power that takes away the occasion of all wars…
Our distinctive nature
It’s not surprising that, surrounded as we are by churches for whom orthodoxy is fundamental, we should have fallen into adopting their language for our own internal discourse. However, we need to shake that off and embrace our distinctive nature.
Emphasising what we do puts us, according to Karen Armstrong in her book The Case for God, in line with the origins of the great monotheist religions:
Religion as defined by the great sages of India, China, and the Middle East was not a notional activity but a practical one; it did not require belief in a set of doctrines but rather hard, disciplined work…
Karen Armstrong suggests that contemporary Judaism and Islam have retained their original self-definitions centred on orthopraxy (‘a uniformity of religious practice’), whereas Christian denominations have shifted much more towards defining themselves in terms of orthodoxy (‘correct belief’).
What does that have to do with us, you may well ask? That old language may give us a warm feeling of in-group-ness when we hear it, but what does it mean to us now? It may be of intellectual interest to hear that historical Christianity and contemporary Judaism were and are founded on practice, but we’re not about water baptism or keeping kosher.
What is so special about Meeting for Worship that it can sustain us in unity, preserve the effectiveness of our business method and allow our disagreements about ‘belief language’ to be recognised without fear? It’s simple, really. In Meeting for Worship, on a good day, we experience two things: a presence and a possibility. That’s why we keep coming back, because at some level we know we need that experience.
What presence? The technical term for it is ‘transcendence’. We’re not very good at talking about it. We refer to a ‘gathered’ Meeting. We say ‘Meeting for Worship is not just meditation’. We know it when it happens. It’s elusive, and if we try to pin it down we lose it, that feeling that we are joined with one another into something more than just our physical co-location.
The truth of experience
Accepting that it is ‘not just me’ isn’t easy in the resolutely individualistic culture we live in now, but if there is one item of faith we must confess – at least to one another – it is the truth of that experience, embracing 350 years of history and hundreds of Meetings around the world today.
What possibility? The technical term for it is ‘immanence’. We see and hear it in the witness of those around us: the possibility of living an inspired life. We recognise it most vividly when we hear authentic ministry, coming from someone we know is speaking as they live.
It cannot be be faked, it is unmistakable, terrifying and uplifting in equal measure. It calls us to what we aspire to, here and now. These are neither historical figures, nor contemporary celebrities nor distant missionaries.They are each one of us.
This is what we need most to be talking about, and we don’t need to agree about the words in order to get started. There’s nothing wrong with talking about belief – it’s natural to want to dig in to why we do what we do, and belief language creeps in to this, precisely because we’re not sure of ourselves.
Therefore, guard against being consumed in such talk, and remember that it is the experience that matters, and matters deeply – the reality of this and its significance are not compromised by our unsatisfactory attempts to talk about it. We know that what we do works for us.
So, certainly, keep trying to figure out why. In the meantime, keep cheerfully practicing.
Comments
Thank you - that moves me on from the divisiveness of theist/nontheist which always seemed ripe for conflict.
By Jedmonds on 26th November 2018 - 11:40
Please login to add a comment