Earlham School of Religion

Friends have been an extremely influential religious group during our short life span. In our early generations, we were movers and shakers. We challenged authority. We rebelled against structures. We wrestled with issues. But we also listened deeply to God. Out of the silence, we always had something to say, whether in word or in deed or in print. It is a thing of wonder to recognize that though we had no neatly defined tenets of faith that fostered commonality of thought, Friends found a way to find enough unity to express themselves publicly and memorably.

A lot has happened since those early years. In my experience, more times than not Quakers are prone to self-define by negatives or by open-ended generalities. Those definitions include statements such as “We don’t believe in the outward practice of sacraments. We don’t believe in war. We don’t believe in the need of a mediator between the human and divine.” Certainly, there is value to definition through contrast; but a vital faith needs a definitive foundation.

Prior to beginning as dean at ESR, I served as a pastoral minister in New Castle, Indiana. Its members stretched the continuum, from evangelical Christian to very liberal, to those whose experience and questions pushed them to test the edges of faith. One day, a citizen in the community asked if one particular man was a member of our meeting. I affirmed that he was--a reaction that drew surprise from the interrogator. He reported that this guy, one who remains a good friend of mine to this day, said that it was great being a Quaker because “we can believe anything we want.” That sentiment is, in my opinion, the promise and peril of contemporary understandings of the Quaker faith.

There are multiple roots to this Quaker vine. First, Quaker perspective is partially a result of our birth in a reactionary moment in political/religious history. In an era that was challenging monarchial rule, corrupt religious institutions and non-transforming rituals, Friends were part of a dissenting revolution. I believe there is still a strong element of that among our members. Even as Friends have become mainline and self-preserving in our institutional life, many convinced Friends choose us because they are looking for an alternative to what they have seen as oppressive or mindless religion. Many of our members, especially convinced Friends, claim to be refugees from the religious right. A bit of a revolutionary spirit oozes from that marginalized, sometimes wounded, group of seekers.

A second root to this vine is our ability to embrace plurality as a result of that birth moment. David Fisher’s chapter on Quakers in his book Albion Seedshows that unlike the Puritans of New England or the Anglicans of Virginia, Friends intentionally established a diverse, pluralistic society in the three Quaker colonies. There were limits to that tolerance that became evident as border people migrated to America. Even so, that tendency to embrace pluralism creates an environment where difference of belief and opinion are allowed. It breeds an environment in which questioning and debate flourish. It is especially fostered by a mostly educated and/or well-read group of North Americans who have embraced the more liberal world view of Western culture.

A third root is our 21^st century post-modern mind set. We have discovered that there is not a single, unified interpretation of history. Absolute objectivity is hidden somewhere alongside the ark of the covenant or the holy grail. We live in a culture that has cast aside absolutes and embraced the idea that truth is relative. There are multiple voices and points of view to consider. We simply can not know the total picture of any situation. According to this point of view, what is true for one does not have to be true for everyone. We are not called to accord equal value to every point of view, but we are called to be open-minded to the possibility that it might be true. Rightly or wrongly, this contemporary trend makes pluralism and diversity political and legal issues that shape the cultural landscape that surrounds bastions of traditional values and belief systems. This public validation of individual points of view as valuable without always requiring useful critique opens the door for adventurous dialogue and incredible frustration in a faith setting where consensus or “sense of the meeting” guides our processes. Where every thought can be allowed a place to exist, seeking common ground may not even be a priority for a non-creedal tradition.

Finally, contemporary Friends are likely to attract thinking seekers. We are a group that does not want to check our brains at the door. You will recall that early Friends held a strong suspicion of educated ministry–“Oxford and Cambridge doth not a minister make.” That viewpoint bleeds over into this century in contemporary suspicions of formal learning and formal thinking as related to religion–a bit of irony there, given Friends otherwise strong commitment to education.

As we consider the topic of thinking theologically in a non-creedal tradition, then, I’d make the point that these things: reactionary birth, pluralistic tendencies, a relativization of truth and the intellectual capacity of our seekers create a bold, loose, suspicious seed bed being warmed by the Inner Light.

Across that initial descriptive foundation, I would lay some results from the vitality project ESR has been conducting in recent months. This was not a scientific study. Meetings had the opportunity to volunteer to participate if they could make a case for their own vitality. We intentionally tried to encompass the broad variety of Friends. Meetings from Friends General Conference and Friends United Meeting participated, but no churches from Evangelical Friends International accepted our invitation. One of my favorite experiences was with a Quaker Worship Group at a New York prison.

This project asked meetings to respond to questions that revolved around such issues as belief, corporate activities, vision and decision-making process. It will come as no surprise that the theological expression of each group mirrored the group’s composition. Why does that matter? Theological expression has implications for the act of worship and the social expression of the group’s faith. A group that believes all people are God’s children and are fine as they are, are not likely to be comfortable with a worship style that issues an altar call invitation to persons to be saved. A group that believes that right belief, as expressed concisely in firm, authoritative statements, will not likely be content with a worship style that gives little guidance on what one should believe.

Among these meetings in the vitality study, the most common theological statement was that people believed in “that of God in everyone.” A great emphasis, it seems, is placed upon the idea of a mystical, divine implant. I would argue that the greatest weight of that belief is its statement about human worth. If we believe that the divine is of greatest value and the divine chooses to reside within these earthen vessels, then we become treasure chests, of sorts.

The statement, as Friends are prone to interpret it, also has implications for individuals’ right to speak to situations. If God resides in each of us then, we maintain, it is quite possible that God speaks through us. We may, in fact, be the avenue through whom the Spirit reveals the hallowed “third way.”

Interestingly enough, this apparent core statement says very little directly about God. At most, it implies that God has chosen to be present to us. The chasm between God and humanity that is so central to much of Christianity, is smaller, if not non-existent, in 21^st century understandings of the phrase “that of God in everyone.” The demeanor of God is much more “user friendly” than in traditions that emphasize the holiness and otherness of God.

When asked how they taught Friends beliefs or helped others discover their own gifts for ministry, participants in the study indicated there was little intentional thought on the matter. At best, they could identify an individual in the meeting who took newcomers under their wing and conveyed the essentials for process and practice in that location. So for Friends, the path to theological thinking is a self-directed–self-guided tour.

This raises the tension of individual freedom and corporate expression. On the one hand Friends have great latitude to determine the shape and voice they give to their understanding of God. On the other hand, the Meeting or Church is a community. Communities have to hold something in common! If we might borrow for a moment a biblical image, Meetings are like a Body in which individual identity must somehow connect to the larger identity, health and function of the corporate group. How shall Friends accomplish this?

I want to suggest that it is frequently done in one of two ways. One way that sufficient unity occurs is in the practice of Sunday worship. It is, at the most basic level, a sharing of physical space. Whether it amounts to much more than that depends on the attitude and investment of the attendees. Let us acknowledge that it is quite possible to enter the same space, observe and hear the same elements in worship, and have much different experiences. The sermon that one person loves will leave another cold. The song that sounded like the voices of angels to one is an outdated, worn-out, theologically bankrupt piece of noise to another. Somewhere within that, however, is enough of a passing encounter with God, or at least with meaningful social relationships, that we each return and share that space again. Do we have a common understanding of what it means to be a person of faith? Not necessarily, unless being a person of faith is defined as sharing that worship space.

The second means that Friends forge a corporate identity is through activity. Practice, rather than belief, is a common uniting force for Friends. I think the United Society of Friends Women is a fine example of how that works. The Friends Disaster Service is a place where a similar phenomenon occurs for men. People of different beliefs manage to set aside those differences and unite around a common activity that involves service. I suspect if they had to agree on why they were participating, or on the theological justification for the effort, it would come to a screeching halt. However, as a project with a practical, identifiable outcome, such activity helps to forge a corporate identity.

One might assume then that belief is not so important after all. With that assumption, I must disagree. Some of those same meetings who have managed to demonstrate a particular vitality have also revealed that where great diversity exists within the meeting, many potential forms of social expression of their faith never occur because theological assumptions undergird the motives for suggested ministries. If one wants to undertake street corner evangelism, that ambition is motivated by an understanding of the importance of the Gospel, an evaluation of the fate of unbelievers, and a sense of responsibility for the plight of the unbelievers’ soul. Anyone who doesn’t share those beliefs will be unlikely to stand on that corner and participate.

If one wants to picket the White House protesting military action in Iraq, a certain set of beliefs are in operation. If this is a religiously organized protest, it is predicated upon beliefs such as these: God values love and peace over war and violence. Leadership comes with responsibility for justice. There are alternatives to violence. If you believe that the Divine Warrior image is, in fact, a mandate for God’s people to conquer their enemies, the idea that we should work for peace will be an absurd idea. In fact, it may seem like an abdication of God-given responsibility.

While very much valuing the freedom Friends have to “work out their own salvation with fear and trembling”, I am acutely aware of the corporate paralysis that occurs when we lack enough common theological precepts to imagine the kind of worship and witness God desires of us. How do we achieve this? In theory, individual Friends test new insights and leadings with the meeting. We get advice and seasoning from that process. We may get eldered, and informed that we are out of unity with Friends. In practice, that is more a romantic notion than it is frequent practice.

I was sharing with colleagues my fascination with how many “types” of Friends there are. I am not referring to programmed and unprogrammed, or any of the Quaker alphabet groups. I call it the “Quaker-plus mentality.” I have met people who describe themselves as Quakers apart from any practice of faith at all. I know people who are religious Quakers. I know many who are Christian Quakers. I have heard of some who are Atheist Quakers, Buddhist Quakers, and even Jewish Quakers. Recently, I heard of one who describes himself as a 3^rd generation Quaker Mason. Never mind that Friends supposedly oppose secret societies! I do wonder why it is that identification with Quakers can be so important when that identity is so individually, and some say ill, defined. Why is that connection so important that some attach it to other unlikely associations? And the fact that we can do that and expect that others will acknowledge our right to do so says something about the tradition in which we live.

In the movie “Big Fish”, character Edward Bloom tells of parrots in the Congo who speak fluent French. According to his big fish of a tale, these parrots spend the day talking about all sorts of things–politics, business, and such. But “they don’t talk about religion,” he says, “ because they are afraid they might offend somebody.” At the risk of doing so, I must say the question arises–given our history, our styles of worship, our governance structure, how is it that we think theologically in a non-creedal tradition so that we might have some uniting specificity to our belief structure without compromising our freedom to question, dialogue and think? I believe this matters because our future vitality, indeed our legacy, hinges upon it. As I said at the outset, early Friends were known for their witness–religious reform, education, slavery, mental health care–the list is long and impressive. Will this generation be remembered at all? I contend that any description of a vital future for Friends is strengthened, if not dependent upon to some degree, a move toward theological clarity. If that were to become true, what is necessary?

For starters, Friends will need to recognize the operative authorities in their own thought processes and decision making as those relate to their personal belief systems. Various religious groups give priority to different authorities, and it seems that four such authorities are commonly cited.

Scripture, of course, makes the Big Four. When I use that term, I am thinking of the primarily Protestant version of the Christian Bible. But it is also important to acknowledge that the Roman Catholic canon includes a collection of books that Protestants do not recognize. And, to stretch the term even further, let us acknowledge that religious traditions typically have their own collection of sacred texts. Those collections are different if you are Hindu rather than Christian, but there is, nevertheless, a body of literature that functions as Scripture–holy writ that tells the sacred story of the formation of your own tradition. Being clear about what we mean by the term Scripture and what makes our Scripture “sacred” is a key issue often overlooked in the discussion.

If we settle the first question, the crucial question that remains, of course, is how one reads that material. How does material written generations ago in a different culture with different values, in a different language, no less, cross over these gaps of time and place so that they are meaningful revelation as we seek to know God and to understand ourselves in light of that knowledge? Do we rely on the letter or the spirit? In either case, how do we determine meaning?

For example, what does it mean that Jesus called us his friends? That statement has implications for our understanding of God’s character and our relationship to the divine.

How do we understand ourselves in light of the crucifixion and resurrection event? In addition to asking us to believe something we have never seen duplicated, this event asks us to think about the meaning of self-sacrifice. It pushes us to ponder the nature of God and ask why such an outcome is part of the story. It eventually trickles over into the topic of human worth.

How do we reconcile the divine warrior motif with the Quaker peace testimony? Violence is described as a primary vehicle for giving the chosen people a place to call home. What does it mean to set one’s self up in opposition to others and assume that God’s blessing to you also entails the oppression and destruction of others?

Especially for those Friends who consider themselves Christian Quakers, Scripture is an important authority in our theological thinking. However, even as we acknowledge that, it is important to recognize that there are different types of authorities. Some of our Christian cousins will claim sola Scriptura, the Bible only, is an authority. As applied in such a tradition, the use of the Bible ranges from a truly weighty document that guides searches and seasons outcomes, to a holy whipping strap, to something like a divine ouji board.

Among Friends, we know there is great variation among Friends and the Bible. We frequently quote Robert Barclay who said the Spirit which gave forth the Scriptures has primacy over the Scriptures. We sometimes forget that J. J. Gurney flipped that ordering, giving the Scriptures priority. That tension so easily seen between Gurney and Hicks is abundantly evident among Friends today. I have no illusions of resolving that lingering issue for Friends. I would, however, raise this issue of Scripture’s authority as one important discussion for us as we try to understand our own thought processes and think responsibly within that framework. At the very least, we will want to avoid reactionary tendencies that simply reject our Scriptural roots.

A second commonly noted authority in our belief system is that of tradition. Occasionally I hear Friends deny that we have tradition, or at least, that it has no power in our decisions. I always wonder what world they live in! Behind that assertion is a beautiful spirit that wants to always be open to the fresh movement of God. However, there is an overwhelming naivete in that world as well. Even the phrase “in the manner of Friends” hints at that–if we have a “manner” then we have some practice or procedure that is regularized enough to be recognized as a manner, and as a Friendly manner at that!

There is more to be said about the influence of tradition in our theological thinking. We should not presume that there is only a single tradition involved in this process. We have two millennia of Christian tradition. Even that is not monolithic! In the early church, we can cite such traditions as Antioch and Alexandria. We can recall the split of East and West in the Roman church. We add the Reformation. Once Friends were formed, we have our schisms of our very own. The surprising thing for us here is not that there were this many diversions and re-directions. The surprising thing is that they are not straight paths leading in completely different directions. Instead, they circle around and affect each other again. Someone uncovers the rich tradition of Celtic Christianity and it becomes a critique of the Romanized version. A programmed Friend overcomes the shock of an hour of silence, encounters the Living God, and returns home suggesting that programmed Friends give more attention to the practice. The circle of influence continues, and we would be hard pressed to find a “pure, pristine” tradition!

Beyond those major traditions of which we may be mindful, there are smaller ones that are nearly as dominating. In my home state of North Carolina, I can think of three meetings within the Greensboro area that, if you lined them up side by side, would be as distinct as an apple, orange and banana lined up on a counter. Each is fruit, but with a different look, feel, taste and nutritional value. The same is true in California, where a comparison of Western Association, Friends Church Southwest and Pacific Yearly Meeting groups would produce similar contrasting results.

To the impact of local traditions, add the impact of family religious traditions. Especially if one is raised in a home were one parent is a person of faith and the other is not, or one is Presbyterian and the other Baptist. Persons in those homes get an interesting cross-fertilization of religious formation. Sometimes that leads to creative and meaningful developments. At other times, it simply leads to error. Here is an example of what I mean.

Downtown Indianapolis is home to a fine architectural structure known as the Scottish Rite Cathedral. One feature of that building is a fine collection of painted glass windows. Like stained glass windows, they are used to tell important stories. Some are stories from the Christian tradition. Others are from other sources. Our volunteer guide took the time to tell us the story behind several of the windows. One is a picture of Daniel in the lion’s den. As the guide told it, Daniel was thrown into the den and the lions threatened to eat him. But because Daniel removed a thorn from one of the lion’s feet, they decided to let him live! I just smiled and nodded. It is true that there are various versions of the bible, often representing distinct traditions. Even allowing for that practice, it is doubtful we will find an authoritative version that combines those particular elements.

Imagine though, how that kind of influence from a tradition, if not realized, reshapes the way in which that story is then told and understood. Instead of being a story about trust in divine deliverance, it becomes a story that teaches us about forging mutually beneficial relationships. The latter is a good lesson, to be sure, but it is not what the first story was about.

To introduce an obvious example into consideration, consider the sacraments. It is often described as a case of “do this” or “don’t do this.” What many overlook is the variety of interpretations and procedures reflected in the traditions which do use the physical elements. Is it the actual blood and flesh of Jesus? The Roman Catholics maintain that it is. Another tradition insists that bread and blood are not the body and blood, but assume the nature of the body and blood. Yet others say it is simply bread and wine, which symbolize the body and blood. Some practice the Eucharist weekly, others quarterly, and so forth. Some drink from the same cup. Others use individual containers. Some dunk rather than sip.

Now, generations later, much of these distinctions are lost on the “end-user.” In fact, each is influenced by theological positions formulated in the respective traditions. The same is true among Friends, though many are hard pressed to say more than Friends don’t believe they are essential.

Why does this matter? Traditions translate into practice over prolonged periods of time. Thus, they infiltrate the religious psyche. They leave an indelible imprint on our religious formation or lack thereof. When it comes to formulating our own beliefs and determining our own actions, the loyalties to these traditions are in operation. As I indicated earlier, Friends, too, have our own ways. Manner implies a set way, made known by frequent practice. Frequent practice is, in fact, the basis of habit and tradition.

Moving now to the third influencing factor, as we think about theological reflection, let’s acknowledge that one can utilize the mind to consider issues related to faith. Former ESR Professor of Theology, John Miller, once wrote about learning to love God with our minds. To support that, he noted that Jesus taught us to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Matt 22:37). Thus, to those who might say we look to Scripture alone or tradition only, we have good cause to introduce our own thought and reflection into the conversation.

Within Christianity, and indeed with some segments of Quakerism, there is a resistance to the application of reason. Possibly it is the conservative mirror image of the liberal resistance to seeking truth in Scripture. For some, reason is antithetical to faith. In contrast, one can find a group known as spiritual humanists who maintain that “We can solve the problems of society using a religion based on reason.” (www.spiritualhumanism.org) For others, reason is of limited value because it is based on knowledge and knowledge is flawed, so reason can’t be beyond suspect–which is a valid observation. In my opinion, a better recognition is that every generation brings the latest developments of critical thinking into conversation with its religious belief system.

For instance, the description of the world in Genesis 1 does not match our understanding of the universe. It did, however, incorporate the acceptable thinking of that era regarding the construction of the universe. Likewise, as the Letter of Aristeas from the mid 2^nd century B.C.E shows, when Judaism came face to face with the philosophies of Hellenistic culture, some Jewish thinkers went to great extremes to show that the so-called new truth of the Greeks was really already present in the sacred texts of the Jews. The tremendous move in the 18^th century to apply critical methods to Scripture actually was borrowing methods from other disciplines and was an effort once again to bring the latest advances in learning into conversation with sacred texts. Truly, this is a history that repeats itself. So we should not cower at the thought of wondering how faith and science speak to each other. Perhaps Carl Sagan was correct when he wrote, “A religion old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the universe as revealed by modern science, might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths. Sooner or later, such a religion will emerge.”

Unless we are to mindlessly accept answers others have determined, reason has a role to play in the formation of our faith. The Bible says Jesus walked on water. What do we think about that? Even if he did, what does that mean and why does it matter? When we compare the gospels, we discover that despite some real similarities, there are some distinct differences which can appear to be at odds with each other. What do we make of that in a document some describe as inerrant? Humans are learning to clone life forms. The Bible does not address that directly. How does faith influence our thinking about that issue–or does it? Reason has a role to play in our theological formation.

As the final contributor of the Big Four, I have saved experience. I have reserved it for last for two reasons. In doing so I have conformed, at least for presentation purposes, to the typical hierarchy used by groups who refer to these four as a “Quadrilateral.” The second reason is that experience is prone to be the default mode for Friends, and I wanted to temper our enthusiasm just a bit.

What do we mean when claim that experience is a factor in shaping our faith? At the very least, we are acknowledging freedom to choose. A bad experience here moves us in another direction. A positive experience here moves us deeper into the web of the community. It also acknowledges that the act of worship is participatory. We are not mere observers. We meet the divine. We encounter the holy. Somewhat like Jacob’s limp after wrestling with God or Moses’ radiant face after forty days on the mountain, we, too are changed by the encounter. Our change is part of our experience. Our reflection on that experience allows us to further process its meaning and integrate its impact into our lives.

Frequently overlooked in this generation is Friends’ emphasis on “corporate experience.” That is to say, the gathered meeting shapes a common testimony forged out of the corporate witness and wrestling. There is something to be recovered there, I believe.

Prioritization of these four theological guides varies among faith groups. I think it is safe to say that many Friends place the highest priority on experience, though there is certainly some variety there as well. By experience, some will be referring to their own introspection and reflection on life as it has come to them. For others, experience refers to experience of God in worship and through the Scriptures.

Lest you think the use of the traditional elements of the quadrilateral is “unquakerly”, let me draw this segment of conversation to a close with this quote:

Note that in this minute we have FUM Quakers explicitly naming Scripture, reason, and experience, both corporate (gathered meeting) and individual (teach us himself). Absent is an overt reference to tradition, but honestly, I don’t know of any group more bound by its past than we are!

Earlier, I identified four important defining characteristics of Friends: reactionary birth, pluralistic tendencies, a relativization of truth and the intellectual capacity of our seekers. I suggested that these traits create a bold, loose, suspicious seed bed in which to be warmed by the Inner Light. I am now adding to that the suggestion that within this seed bed, fertilization of faith comes from four sources; Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience. These four are identified by several faith groups as sources of authority, with each group prioritizing them as they deem appropriate. Of those four, I think Friends most often emphasize experience. In particular, that is made possible by our pluralistic tendencies because there is no overarching creed or standard against which we each are measured and to which it is expected we will conform.

These are not new innovations for theological reflection. This is an exercise in elevating them in our consciousness. It is an effort to encourage us to utilize them with intention so that they work for us instead of working on us. In a January 30, 2004 edition of The Chronicle of Higher Education, Sherry Turkle wrote, “The tools we use to think change the way we think.” Her article was about how computer technology affects the way we think–and she has some concerns about effects that can be negative if left unchecked. In the article she gave an example of how a student in psychology challenged the assumption that a Freudian slip revealed an unconscious desire. Instead, it was likened to a computer selecting the wrong word–“open” instead of “closed” for instance–which was understandable because the two words are designated by the same symbol, only one has a sign for opposition. It wasn’t a revelation of hidden desires–it was a case of dropped information. That is a different interpretation than Freud would have given. It is made possible because of new tools which change the way we understand and process information.

That really is the heart of the matter here. I think Friends need to be more intentional in our thinking about our faith. I want us to be aware of the tools at our disposal, and to know that they influence our beliefs whether we have thought them through or not. I desire to see Friends labor together on the foundations of our faith, the expressions of our belief, and the new frontiers where God desires to use our living witness.

At this juncture, I want to pause and pose a question. I have named some key formative influences operative in our belief systems. Are there other authoritative influences you would want to add to these four? Can you speak about which of these four you appeal to most often?

"In the Manner of Friends": Thinking Theologically in a Non-Creedal Tradition

In our previous hour, I have indicated I think we are to be about more than a “laissez faire” faith. In addition, I hope I have raised in your consciousness the number of factors that influence the way we form our beliefs. In the second hour of our forum, we turn our attention to what it means to think theologically in the manner of Friends.

In a group that is largely decentralized, non-hierarchical, and emphasizes seeking the sense of the meeting, one move I think we need to make is that of reading texts communally. Done in the right spirit, it will build understanding and cultivate clarity.

I want to begin that process with small group conversations as we think about particular topics with the intention of identifying what it is that informs and supports our beliefs on those particular topics. Let’s prepare for that by considering a theological statement I heard recently in an unprogrammed meeting for worship. She said:

^[1]EXPLANATORY NOTE: A conference of 95 delegates appointed by 12 Friends (Quaker) yearly meetings representing the Orthodox branch of Friends across the world met in Richmond, Indiana in September 1887. This conference issued a Declaration of Faith, which has been widely used by Orthodox Friends ever since. This is one of the three major doctrinal documents for Orthodox Friends. The others are the Letter to the Governor of Barbadoes and Essential Truths.