Showing posts with label creed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creed. Show all posts

Monday 15 November 2021

A republic of seekers not an empire of believers

From the very start Quakerism was a rebellion against institutionalised religion. Quakers felt that the churches – notably the Catholic, Anglican and Presbyterian – were of this world and of worldly power. They were empires that held their subjects in place by enforcing an adherence to belief. Enforcement that could extend well beyond fines and imprisonment to torture and burning at the stake. Quakers were averse to creating new institutions and hierarchies – especially the latter – so they strove to have only the barest minimum of organisational structures creating in effect a republic of seekers who engaged collectively in a search for truth. For many years they referred to themselves as 'The Friends of Truth', or simply as 'The Friends'.

From their heritage amongst the Seekers they gained a deep dislike and distrust for any who would set themselves up as authorities: they were deeply anti-clerical and anti-creedal. Although often well read in the bible, they did not regard it as an authority either: it might and did inspire, but it did not command. 

They gathered together and sat in silence – often long periods of silence – waiting for direct inspiration and guidance. A silence that might be cultured by what they had read or heard, but in which they tested the spiritual truth of those words and waited beyond that for an inner feeling of rightness that was not of their own volition. 

There was suspicion of 'creaturely activity' that was to be recognised by states of excitement or elation. They would not have been happy among modern evangelicals! God's voice was that 'still voice of calm': a feeling of being at one with what was revealed. This was a trend in Quakerism inherited from the Seekers that came more to the fore in the Eighteenth century, although the Seventeenth century generations were well practised in silent waiting – at the deepest level they were all shaped by it.

Eighteenth century Friends, in the Age of Reason, put their trust in that which was Beyond Reason and we neglect the quietist tradition at our peril. Its most compelling image was that of the Aeolian harp which, being nothing in itself, was in its very emptiness the instrument through which the winds of God could play. We err, and err gravely, if we think that quietism has anything to do with “being quiet”, with indolence, or with aloofness from the world. It protested against “creaturely activity” but taught that the soul, emptied of self-will and self-running, was being prepared to be the instrument of the holy spirit. Edward H Milligan: Nine for the Nine Bright Shiners: The Seeker, Autumn 1987

Around this kernel grew a set of practices; a way of living rather than believing. They set themselves apart in dress, in manner and by the 'right ordering' of life. Effectively they set up a counterculture, so much so that when the opportunity arose many fled Britain for the hardships of settling in Pennsylvania and breaking new land rather than giving up their 'distinctiveness' and conforming to the demands of King, Church and Country. A distinctiveness that had earned them many spells in prison and repeated fines or distraint of their goods and chattels.

They devised methods of collective governance that created a minimum of institution. No priest or ministers only Elders and, the unfortunately named, Overseers. In the light of slavery 'overseer' is not a word in favour now for describing what was a pastoral function concerned with the wellbeing of Friends: much needed when in the early years they spent so much time in prisons, or having their goods or chattels distrained. Neither appointment was ever permanent, but only held for a limited time – often no more than three years – to prevent the accumulation of power. Often there were also two servants of the Meeting: the Clerk and the Treasurer. Neither with any power to do anything beyond what was instructed by the Meeting. Likewise, they only served for a limited time. None were ever paid: it was a way of rendering service.

Those instructions came from the inspirations that arose in the silence of the 'gathered' meetings of Friends. That 'still quiet voice of God' was the authority sought. It spoke through the voice of one or other Friend during Meeting, guiding their words. It was recognised by the lack of resistance to its truth on the part of the listeners. It mattered not if it were man, woman or child that spoke: the truth spoke for itself. It created a harmonious accord between Friends when it arose. Quakers have never voted on any matter to this day – voting divides: seeking truth unites. 

Carl Jung admired this way of proceeding, feeling that the Quakers had discovered a method of shared access to what he termed 'the God-archypype' that was both an element within the deep mind of each and beyond in what he termed 'the collective unconscious'. In his letter to Irene Pickard he referred to them as being "the only true Christians" because of exactly that charismatic element. 

An element that concerned itself not with theological niceties of whether 'God' existed or not, or what he/she/it/they might be but with the vitality of the experience:

That is why whenever we speak of religious content we move in a world of images that point to something ineffable. We do not know how clear or unclear these images, metaphors, and concepts are in respect of their transcendental object. If, for instance, we say “God” we give an expression to an image or verbal concept which has undergone many changes in the course of time. We are, however, unable to say with any degree of certainty — unless it be by faith — whether these changes affect only the images and concepts, or the Unspeakable itself. After all we can imagine God as an eternally flowing current of vital energy that endlessly changes shape just as easily as we can imagine him as an eternally unmoved unchangeable essence. Our reason is sure of one thing: that it manipulates images and ideas which are dependent on human imagination and its temporal and local conditions, and which have therefore changed innumerable times in the course of their long history. C G Jung: Answer to Job