Continuing Revelation—Theology and Reason as Discernment Touchstones
July 30, 2022 § 7 Comments
When I first heard these touchstones from Josh Brown back in the late ‘80s, he called this one reason and common sense. Paul Anderson in his essay prefers “theological reflection.” Friend Anderson in his essay focuses on “problems of biblical ignorance and theological inadequacy,” for which “there is no substitute for acquiring the skills and knowledge required for religious leadership.” I would combine these two—(relative) theological sophistication and common sense/reason—into one touchstone for discernment.
The adoption in the liberal branch of the phrase “that of God in everyone” as an essential tenet of (liberal) Quaker faith, meaning by it some kind of divine spark, is a great example of failing to think clearly about “theology,” that is, about what we have to say to people. It’s extremely sloppy theology, as I have said repeatedly in my writing. It’s both historically inaccurate and a doctrinal empty shell; there’s nothing inside it; it’s become an outward form that we use in the most cavalier manner.
Not only that. The general ignorance of what Fox actually meant by this phrase and of the historical source of the “divine spark” interpretation now current among us in the writings of Rufus Jones is also an excellent example of failing to check in with historical tradition as a touchstone for new revelation. Furthermore, this historical obliviousness amounts to a violation of the testimony of integrity—claiming something is ancient tradition from the founding age of the movement when it isn’t.
But back to sloppy theology. I’m not saying that it’s not true that there is that of God in everyone; that discernment has never actually taken place. I’m saying that most of us don’t really know what we mean when we say it. Well, that’s probably not quite right; Friends generally know what they’re trying to say intuitively. But they would be hard pressed to unpack it if asked.
What do we mean by “that of”? What do we mean by “God” when we use this phrase, especially when so many in the liberal branch are either non-theists or have only vague and inarticulate or (as I do) very complicated ideas about “God”? And what does the whole phrase “that of God” mean?
Most Friends using the phrase have in mind some kind of divine spark or aspect of divinity that inheres in the human. Why do we believe that? How do we know that humans are somehow inherently in some way divine? And how do we know that this divine spark inheres in everyone? On what do we base this principle of faith?
None of this is ever articulated; these questions are rarely asked, let alone answered. Many Friends in the liberal branch seem to have only contempt for “theological reflection” and think it unQuakerly. They seem to think that because we have no creed we have no doctrine at all (except for the belief in that of God in everyone, of course, and the testimonies). But doctrine—theology—is simply what we have to say, as Quakers, to non-Friends, to our children, and to each other, about who we are and what it means to be a Friend. We do have a doctrine, at least in theory; we do have something to say.
I agree with Paul Anderson that there is no substitute for the skills and knowledge required for Quaker leadership. And because we in the liberal branch do not have trained religious professionals, it’s up to our meetings to impart these skills and this knowledge through religious education, and it’s up to each one of us as individuals to become theologically self-reflective enough to know what we’re talking about because nobody else is going to tell us what to say. We need to acquire this skill and knowledge to a certain measure, both as individuals and as communities, in order to function effectively as Quakers. Otherwise, we’re just making it up. As we have with the phrase “that of God”.
It’s not hard. There are books and pamphlets and videos galore; there’s our yearly meetings’ books of Faith and Practice, at the very least. Otherwise, we end up stammering and answering foolishly or only for ourselves when someone—our children, say—asks us about our faith.
Meanwhile, many in the evangelical branches of Quakerism seem to have abandoned even “continuing illumination” as an element of Quaker faith. They reject any sophisticated theological reflection that deviates from the world’s version of evangelical faith that they have adopted. They do have a creed, which means that they are willing to use a conventional theology adopted from the world to cast the “heretical” and “sacrilegious” from their midst (heresy and sacrilege are Friend Anderson’s words). And they leave to trained religious professionals and to ecclesiastical institutions the power and authority to enforce the creed.
This fear of heresy and sacrilege, when combined with a resistance against new leadings, makes you pick and choose your Bible passages in order to rationalize the exercise of your governing power to police thought and action. With respect to same-sex marriage, for instance, this means heavy reliance on Hebrew scripture, which otherwise, they believe has been superseded by the gospel. We’ll take an unsophisticated reading of Leviticus on same sex sex as an abomination (Leviticus 20:13), but ignore the injunction to execute someone who curses his or her mother or father (Leviticus 20:9), or to expel a man who sleeps with his wife while she’s having her period (Leviticus 20:18). Is the God who condemns same sex sex in Leviticus the same God who cut a deal with Jephthah for victory over Israel’s enemies and then required that Jephthah ritually sacrifice his own daughter in Judges 11?
In its resistance to some new revelations, the evangelical branch sometimes practices, not sloppy theology, but theology corrupted by social ideology under cover of biblical authority and they often employ reasoning—theological reflection—disingenuously.
As with the Bible and tradition, theology and reason are important touchstones for testing new revelation, but like the other two, their practice requires greater integrity than we often give it.
Through the Flaming Sword 
This Friend wants to go much deeper with this topic. I am grateful for its insights. The faith, insights and Spiritual practices of the first generation of Friends have been replaced by a community claiming the legacy of the original as the authority by which they justify their present shallow “theological” beliefs.
Call it spiritual “revelation” or “evolution”, at some point during the first half of the twentieth century, the liberal Quaker branch of Quakerism formally emerged. And to any observer, liberal Quakerism appears to be primarily grounded in “mysticism”, because it entails all that is manifested within all mystical spiritual traditions: spiritual freedom, a direct relationship with the divine without mediation (usually using simple silence), and the understanding that all beings have ‘that of God’ manifested within them, and therefore available to them.
The reality is that the above was present to varying degrees ever since Quakerism first began in the 1650’s. In fact, many liberal Quaker meetings in this twenty-first century possibly relate to the earliest first decade of Quakers more than any later segment of Quakers throughout Quaker history. The first decade Quakers were drawn to Quakerism before control was implemented by George Fox – which rocked the Quaker boat for a time. Today’s liberal Quakers do not relate to hierarchical control.
I often think of Rufus Jones as simply the right person at the right time. His popularity among twentieth century Quakers filled a spiritual craving for many who experienced Jesus as a mystic who they could relate to in a modern world. Jesus as a mystic is someone they want to emulate.
It matters little to a liberal Quaker whether the “that of God” phrase is codified or not. The phrase simply makes sense in the mystical experience that is so commonplace within liberal Quakerism. And whether George Fox would endorse the phrase or not, has little value to most liberal Quakers. For the mystical liberal Quaker, the God (Universe, Spirit, Light, Divine) experience is all that matters. This is because, for the liberal Quaker, it transforms she or he from who they were into a new being of Light.
Hi Steve,
As always I appreciate reading your blog. (I’m sure I’ve encountered /met/exchanged with?) Paul Anderson along the way but my aging memory….)
Hope I haven’t told you this before – at Oberlin we had rival gangs, the Concept Mongers and the Complex Vendors. Gang warfare consisted mainly running up at each other from behind with a yell and yanking each other’s scarves off. … Well, many is the time I’ve been called a dirty concept monger in Quaker circles.
As for “that of God,” I’m a Transcendentalist — meaning I experience God as overarching – so the problem of immanence doesn’t arise for me. My (Unitarian) mother believed in the Divine spark, though.
As an “empirical mystic” (or maybe I’m a mystical empiricist), I can’t believe in a divine spark in humans because I’ve not experienced it. Or at least, not according to any definition of “divine” that doesn’t diminish divinity to something else. I have now forgotten where I heard the phrase ego-theism applied to the use of the phrase “that of God”, in which we project an idea of God from our own selves, but ego-theism says it all for me. Even though I think you can reasonably characterize almost all thinking about divinity as psychological projection.
This is why, for me, the gathered meeting, is the starting point for talking about the divine. Only in the gathered meeting does the collective share an experience of the transcendental, which cannot be a projection of individual consciousness. It may be, par Jung, a projection of the collective consciousness of the meeting; and maybe even that is too limited an understanding of God for folks who are theists. But at least it’s based in real experience, and not on theological or metaphysical speculation. What it is, or who it is, whatever it is we experience in the gathered meeting—that is up to speculation. But not THAT IT IS. That we we have shared something transcendental we know experientially.
Steve, you stated: “What it is, or who it is, whatever it is we experience in the gathered meeting—that is up to speculation. But not THAT IT IS.”
Today in worship, it occured to me to ask if you have asked, like Saul of Tarsus, “Who are you?” Is the experience transformational? changing persecutor into promoter?
Ellis, I ask “Who are you?” all the time; so far no clear answer. The experience certainly is transformational, and I certainly have been changed from persecutor into promoter, though that took place independently of any gathered meeting?
Thank you for this, Steven. I wish I could be helpful in silencing Friends who make “That of God in everyone” appear to be the cornerstone of Friends’ faith, before giving their all to find out what It really means: after all, That of God in me might damn me (or them, or anyoefor a lifetime of disobedience to It!
And then there’s the Bhagavad-Gita, in which the Divine Teacher instructs the good warrior (in verses 2:17-25) to slay his enemies in battle diligently, because That of God in them cannot be slain or even inconvenienced by the death of their bodies! Are liberal Friends prepared to answer the one billion Hindus worldwide who hold this teaching to be scriptural Truth?