20111108

Faith: Ask A Quaker!

A huge tip of the hat goes to my first guest blogger, Kevin B.  I ran into Kevin at a high school reunion recently, and after noticing a Quaker bumper sticker on his car, I grew very nosy indeed (having attended a Quaker service in college myself).  I proceeded to email Kevin a pile of questions, which he answered with a maximum of grace and thoughtfulness.  I present to you, with heartfelt thanks to Kevin, the results of that email exchange. 

You mentioned you first came in contact with the Society of Friends in college.  Are you willing to describe the experience? What was it that piqued your interest?


In college, I was immersed in the relativism that was popular among college youth of the day – eg. things like feminist and Marxist interpretations of American history.  (It still may be, for all I know).  But when I took a course in American intellectual history, I was struck by how the Quakers seemed to figure out the “right” answer to things a generation before others.  The acknowledged the sin of slavery in the 1700s, treated women as equals in the 1600s, and provided the nourishing ground for many early suffragists and abolitionists.  So I got curious about how this particular sect could get it right so often.

What drew you to the idea of becoming a Quaker?

At a time when I was looking for a spiritual home, I was also curious about Quakers.  So on the Sunday of Halloween weekend, 1984 I entered a Quaker meeting house for the first time.  What I found was exactly what I was looking for.   It wasn’t so much that I thought it was right, than that I *knew* it was right; that I’d been a Quaker my whole life without knowing it.

But I was also fearful of breaking the spell, of intellectualizing the experience and moving it from my fragile soul to my strong mind.  I therefore very deliberately chose not to read anything about Quaker theology for well over a year.  Instead, I was drawn to the Quaker admonition to look for God “experimentally.” (More modern word choice here would be “experientially.” )

Where do you put yourself on the Quaker spectrum - conservative, liberal, or somewhere in between?  How does that shake out in terms of spiritual differences?

-- I’m unabashedly an Unprogrammed Friend.  Quakerism is as much about practice as it is about theology.  (Old Quaker joke: a newcomer to a Friends meeting sits through the hour of silence, then asks “When does the service begin?”  The elder replies, “The service begins when the worship ends.”)  Anyway, the practice of unprogrammed collective worship is the spiritual practice in which I thrive.  I can’t even imagine sitting through a Quaker sermon and hymns each week.

-- I’m a liberal universalist who believes that G_d is far beyond our ability to comprehend.  That faith communities across the world are all striving for that same, impossible understanding.  I make no claim that my beliefs are more accurate than those of most other religions.  (Noted exceptions being Muslim extremists and Christian fundamentalists.)  All I claim is that my practice works for me.  Yes, I also like the Jewish tradition of not writing the name of the Almighty, since to do so would suggest a level of knowledge we cannot attain.
-- I’m also a Christian/Christocentric Quaker.  I believe that the path to enlightenment comes through faithfully following a particular religion, coming to deeply understand its traditions, its myths, etc.  Given my culture and my personal history, it makes a whole lot more sense for me to immerse myself in the Christian traditions than the Buddhist ones.  Put another way, I’m skeptical of a universalism that dabbles in lots of traditions rather than committing to one.

What would you do if you or your child had to go to war?

Because my faith is so personal and universal, I don’t expect others to follow it, even my children.  All I can hope for is to give them a deep sense of the possibilities of a spiritual life.  So if my son decided to join the armed services, I wouldn’t feel a sense of religious betrayal.  What I would feel is the worry of a caring parent that my son would risk his life for a war that I thought could be avoided.   For myself, if I were drafted, I hope I would have the courage to choose jail as a conscientious objector rather than kill another human being.  To me, the admonition that “thou shalt not kill” is pretty black and white.

Are there any aspects of your life as a Quaker that you would like to see changed?  What would they be?  Any frustrations, now that you've lived this life for so long?  Is there anything doctrinally you find particularly difficult to swallow?

Your question about how I would like to see my life change as a Quaker feels too difficult to tackle right now, so I’ll go to the easier half of the question: there’s NOTHING about Quaker doctrine I’d change. Why?  Because there is no Quaker doctrine!  Seriously.   Part of what I love about Quakerism is that our “doctrine” actually comes in the form of questions rather than answers.  Historically, these “queries” began as straightforward questions about the nature of the congregation (eg “how many of your members are in jail?”)  Over time, though, they morphed into questions intended to prompt seeking.  (Cool, huh, a church becoming more spiritual rather than more doctrinaire over time!).  Questions like:
-- Do you live with simplicity, moderation, and integrity?
-- Does your daily work use means and serve goals which are consistent with the teachings of Jesus?   (See http://www.neym.org/fponline/queries.html for a longer list)

That’s not to say that my religion or my religious community are perfect.  Friends, like the protestant movement that soon followed, were reacting against very specific excesses within the Catholic church.  In some ways, I think they went too far.   For example, I think early Friends grossly underestimated the value of ritual as a spiritual practice.  Saying that the holy communion is spiritual rather than physical may make good theology, but it robs Quakers of a ritual that is deeply satisfying for many Christians.  If I were the Quaker Pope, I’d be looking to reintroduce rituals that remind us of the cycle of the seasons.  I love Easter for its wonderful overlap of Christian and pagan/naturalistic myths of the Rebirth and the return of spring.

My other biggest complaint is that there aren’t enough of us.  On the east coast, it’s pretty easy to find a 200 year old meeting house and a descent sized meeting that mixes together 5th generation Friends and new seekers.  Here in the Midwest, we’re a rare breed.  Our meeting places aren’t optimal, and we frequently miss the wisdom that comes from sitting with senior citizens who grew up in the meeting.  We also struggle with keeping a sense of community even though we don’t work, play, and live near each other.  What works well in a 19th century New England town is a little harder in 21st Century Chicago.

Do you like Quaker Oats?

I love Quaker oats.  They secret to making them well is to cook them for about half the time they say on the box – that way they’re still somewhat chewy and wholesome rather than the mush you get with instant oats.  Try it with a little brown sugar and diced apples on top.

Got another question for this Quaker?  Send it in

Quaker Information Center, run by Earlham College, IN
www.quaker.org - The Religious Society of Friends


5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed reading this! Thanks for sharing!

Daniel

Susan D said...

I enjoyed learning more about Kevin's spiritual journey - this post added meaning to my day. Thanks for posing these questions and posting the answers!

Anonymous said...

Very nice. One minor correction, though, Quakers were reacting to specific problems in the Anglican church, not the Catholic church -- though, I suppose the reaction applies equally to both.

forrest said...

It is not 'to commit to one religion', nor even to all religions, but to the One who makes truth available to everyone, in the forms best suited to each person at each time...

And yes, I think we might make good use of other religious practices, and modify our own as the Spirit might lead us to do, at some point. Because God can work within any practice that feeds us, and can be hampered even by our own practices the moment we start taking them as ends in themselves, forgetting God's essential role and embodiment in each practice and each person.

This is not something human beings do, but an example of what God does through us. [I have no problem with the G-word, because I do "know" the Reality, not as in comprehending a fact but as in knowing, incompletely but truly (so far as I do) myself and others.]

susanhardy said...

Thank you, Daniel, Susan, Anonymous, and Forrest! This Quaker post has been the most-viewed post so far - it even beat out my list of 10 reasons why Aldi rocks. So I guess it's a triumph of spirituality over materialism - maybe?