Thoughts on Revision

So, Britain Yearly Meeting has decided – nearly a year ago now – to start the process of revising our Book of Discipline, Quaker faith & practice. As I have previously written, I am very much supportive of this process, seeing it as an opportunity. The revision committee has been appointed, with several people on it being well known to me, and showing quite a range of diversity – as had been requested of nominations. As they slowly and thoughtfully begin their work, I wish to offer them – and the wider community – some thoughts. I suppose this might be considered an ‘open letter’, but I do not intend it in the way that most open letters are used; they are generally in the context of campaigning, and I do not consider it appropriate that anyone campaign for anything in the context of the revision process. This is not about lobbying and defending interests, but about coming together to reach the right decisions for our Yearly Meeting at this time, just as in all of our spirit-led decision-making. This post is just my unasked for advice, or perhaps a statement of my own hopes. Members of the committee, and of the wider Quaker community in Britain, can take it as they will.

Coining a New Name

I am indebted in writing this piece to several friends (not all of whom are Friends) helping me puzzle out the nuances of a dead language. Special mention must go, however, to my sister-in-law, and to the helpful folks of the Latin Stack Exchange. I am no scholar of ancient languages myself, though I dabble (as I do in many things). Any errors in how I have made use of Latin are my own, and as I've had to be a little creative I expect there are some.

Much conversation goes on among liberal Friends, at least recently in Britain, concerning our range of names for the Divine. This is why there's a tag for it on this blog, and has become a startling focus of conversation around our theological diversity. Some of the worry – and some of the excitement – about the upcoming revision of Britain Yearly Meeting's Book of Discipline even relates to this. Some of the differences in name reflect the different ways we have of thinking about the Divine, and sometimes using the same name conceals that difference.

We have the old names – God, the Father, Christ, and more esoteric terms early Friends were fond of, such as Seed. Then we have names that are old, but new to Quakers, as other faith traditions feed into our own, and they are too many and varied for it to be easy to pick out a few. We have names that reflect theological liberalism and universalism, delightfully non-committal like my own go-to name, the Divine. We have terms that were used by early Friends and are used today with different nuance, like Light (for early Friends it was often the Light of Christ, or Inward Light; today it is often Inner Light, and for both it would just be shortened to “Light”). Maybe it's time for something new. Something that reflects what we are united on, or at least as united as we ever are, without claiming anything else.

Don't Replace "God" With "Good"

This might seem a strange title for me. After all, I rarely use the word “God” in reference to my own beliefs – surely I should be happy to see it used less? Well, yes and no.

Let's start by setting some context. I don't want to see Quakers stop using the word God, let's get that clear. I do think sometimes we should think about whether it's the right word to use in any given situation, especially in corporate statements, but I'm all about using the full range of language in our collective writing. I think there's lots of other words and phrases we can use, and they should more or less all get a look in.

The Death of Fox

From the title of this post, you might have supposed that it was going to be a sort of tailpiece biography, covering the time shortly before and after the actual death of George Fox. Another possible interpretation would be that I was, out of all character, joining in with the sporadic habit of some Quakers online, bemoaning how unlike Fox most Quakers are today.

In either case, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. Rather, it is a reference to The Death of the Author, an essay by the French literary critic and author Roland Barthes (it's original French title itself being a play on the title of Le Mort d'Arthur, but that's too tangential a path for me to dive down here), and of the literary theory concepts that derive from it.

The essential principle of the essay, and the related (but separately posited) theory of the “intentional fallacy”, is that the author is not the authority when it comes to the meaning of a piece of work. Once an author has created a work, they might tell you what their intent was, you might infer it from other sources, but intent is not the determining factor of meaning. I don't say that this theory is universally accepted in the study of literature; I also probably don't understand it perfectly, not having studied literary theory or analysis, so please don't rely on my explanation (or lecture me too harshly if you know it better – I'm glad to learn more, but please keep it friendly).

God, Words and Us: A Reaction

The most procedurally important output of the Book of Discipline Revision Preparation Group (BoDRPG) is probably their report to Meeting for Sufferings; the most important in terms of the wider conversation, and of direct lasting impact, may well be God, Words and Us. This book is a record of some of the output of the “Theology Think Tank” that the BoDRPG set up to help prepare for the inevitable “theism/non-theism” question that would arise in any future revision. I have previously written some of my own reaction, on specific points – most notably my recent post “Theism vs Non-Theism”? – but this post is to record my own reaction to the book as a whole, having now finished reading it.

As I understand it, the purpose of the think tank was to support the BoDRPG, and thus the whole Yearly Meeting, in looking at different ways of approaching the “question” of theology and theological diversity. This is in part because of a perception that became apparent, that many Friends responding to consultation and conversation, or indeed in ministry at Yearly Meeting Gathering, were concerned that the degree and nature of that diversity would lead to strife within the Yearly Meeting were we to engage in a revision process. Of particular concern were that some might seek to remove any reference to God from the Quaker faith & practice, or that others might seek to introduce an acid test of theistic belief in the process of revision. Of course, others see a revision as an opportunity to diversify our language – not to remove Christian and otherwise theistic language, but to supplement it with other expressions of understanding of the Divine so that our “handbook” text reflects the diversity that is already there. There are also a few I've come across who would like to use the opportunity to solidify theistic – usually specifically Christian – underpinnings of the book; likewise, I cannot claim there are no Friends who would like to remove all traces of “God language” from the Book of Discipline, but this is not a significant current of thought that I am aware of, even in non-theist circles (an impression that finds support in some of David Boulton's contributions to the book, as noted below).

"WHAT Do You Worship?": Worship as an Intransitive Verb

One fairly common response I've come across, when someone has heard an explanation of the silent Quaker Meeting for Worship, has been to ask “but what are you worshipping?” Well, some people phrase it as who, rather than what, but I tend to see it as essentially the same question.

Now, for some Friends, the answer is easy. They believe in a deity that they feel warrants veneration, and so they can say that is what they worship. And yet, they cannot say that and speak for all unprogrammed Quakers. While some may adore and venerate in the silence, not all do – and even for those that do, that is not all they do in the silence.

In this post, then, I shall look at this question, and how the Quaker usage of the word “worship” perhaps challenges received wisdom in terms of English grammar.

The Luminous Numinous

We use lots of terms to talk about the Divine, and some are more or less comfortable with different words and phrases. Some will never use a certain term except when quoting, and others have a favoured term that they use in preference to any other.

In my experience, though, the one that is most widely acceptable is Light. It might sometimes be dressed up as the “Light of Christ”, or otherwise specified as the “Inner Light”, but Light is a popular term in many forms and permutations.

There is no accident to that metaphor. Light describes it very well. What does light do?

Comprehending the Incomprehensible

There is a Power that is an unending source of love and light, a Light that lives in each of us and lifts us up, and joins us together. Some know it as the Light of Christ, the Holy Spirit, and that is well. Some know it as a nebulous, numinous force pervading our lives and our beings, and that is also well. Some know it as a precious and divine part of our own being, that we must work to know well, to be aware of and guided by – and that too is well.

Religious Privilege and British Quakers

Being typically middle-class and educated, and with a strong interest in equality, Quakers (at least in the global economic north) are probably more likely than the average person to be aware of the concept of privilege and oppression. This is, however, a fairly academic concept, with reasonably precise and specialised meaning, and my own conversations with other Friends, both online and in person, have illustrated that understanding of it is far from universal. In this post, I will be discussing the idea of religious privilege, both in wider society and its impact within the Religious Society of Friends – particularly in Britain Yearly Meeting.

Privilege

Before we get into religious privilege, it's probably a good idea to make sure we're on the same page about “privilege” in general. When used in this context, the discussion of social advantage, it takes a particular sociological meaning. While the everyday sense of the word means some particular advantage, such as the franking privilege in relation to some legislatures, and there is a legal meaning related to the ability to compel evidence, or even whether evidence is admissible at all, this sociological meaning is both broader and more subtly specific.

I am aware that some people don't like the term, or even the concept. However, in order to discuss the actual underlying idea in this post, it's necessary to use language that makes the point efficiently and without repetition of explanations. So I ask those of you who struggle with this language to push through it to try and understand the underlying point, rather than reject it based on the premise of the language and theory itself.

Belief, Experience, Conception, Communication, Understanding

In an excellent blog post, Craig Barnett (no relation) recently wrote about the limitations of thinking of faith in terms of belief; rather than a conventional, simplistic view of belief leading to action, a better description – especially for Quakers – is of a cycle, practice leading to experience leading to community leading back to practice. Personally, I think that cycle should be bi-directional, but generally I think this is a good model, as far as it goes.

People, however, have a habit of thinking about things, not to mention talking about things (even if sometimes they don't do it in that order). It is when we talk about our experiences that our language, our choice of words and what we mean by them, our choice of phrases and references, brings something else to the fore, which we tend to refer to as “belief” – how we refer to God/the Divine/the numinous/the Spirit/whatever, the characteristics implicit in the terms we use, create the picture of what the speaker believes in.

For many liberal Quakers, however, theology – questions of the nature of the Divine – is a nebulous thing. I have heard many take a partially agnostic view, that whatever the Divine is in incomprehensible to us, fundamentally unknowable, which is a position with which I agree. The words we use don't reflect the kind of certainty that “belief” implies, when used in a religious context; rather, they are our groping after meaning that reflects our experience and attempts at understanding, indefinitely provisional. They are the shadows on the wall of the cave. So, if they don't reflect belief, what do they reflect?

The Source of Illumination

I illuminated Christ all the way to the cross;
I illuminated Siddhartha Gautama, under the Bodhi Tree;
I illuminated Mohammed, in the Cave of Hira;
I illuminated the Vedas, I illuminated the Tanakh;
Will you allow me to illuminate you?

Written August 2017

Don't Brush Your Beliefs Under The Carpet

One of the things that first attracted me about the Quaker approach to faith, at least as practised in Britain, was the lack of dogmatism around belief. That people could have radically different conceptions of what it is that we seek contact with in Meeting for Worship, or what the nature of that contact is. That there were Buddhist Quakers, Jewish Quakers, Muslim Quakers, Hindu Quakers, Pagan Quakers, all as well as the “default”, original, traditional Christian Quakers. To me that spoke of a tremendous humility on the part of the community as a whole, as well as a wonderful openness. It also told me there was an incredibly rich range of experience and insight to draw on, that we could share our different experiences of the divine and all learn, be challenged and stimulated into a broader outlook and improve our consciousness of the divine.

As I became more involved, started identifying as a Quaker, and throwing myself into things with the enthusiasm of a convert, my impression of humility and openness was largely borne out – not perfectly or universally, but it was certainly the trend. Of course, I learned that not all Quakers in the world were like Quakers here in Britain; not even most of them, in fact. Britain Yearly Meeting is a major liberal YM, but liberal Quakerism isn't the only Quaker tradition. Detail about the different traditions is a subject for another post, but suffice to say that the degree of openness about theology is a particular characteristic of liberal Quakers, and while it may be found in other traditions, here and there, it is not a basic characteristic of any of them.

Light

There is a light in each of us.

We call it by many names – Inner Light, Holy Spirit, Divine Principle, the Light of Christ, and many more besides. Still, it is the same light in each of us, and if we can heed its promptings, it will show us the way to right actions – how we arrange our own affairs, how we are to govern our community, and how to act with love towards all.

When we gather in the silence, each of us willing to heed that light, it grows in us. Each light grows, reaching to one another, joining and binding us, allowing us to know it, and one another, with greater joy and clarity than we ever could without it.

Written December 2016

What You Will

Long ago, just as now, there was something. Something that drove people to be better, to learn, to understand, to act morally, to be compassionate, and much more beside.

To some it gave inspiration, and they built and invented and wrote and sang, and it was called Genius.

Some it drove to help others, to bring aid to the suffering, to protect and encourage, and it was called Love.

To some it opened the mysteries of nature, and they learned why the leaves are green and the sky is blue, and it was called Insight.

To some it spoke as if with words, advising on the right way to live, and it was called God.

And others called it by other names, and felt it in other ways besides.