The Spirit of the Christ and Vocal Ministry
December 3, 2024 § Leave a comment
When we strive to be Spirit-led in our vocal ministry, what do we mean by that? What, or who, is the Spirit by which we hope to be led?
For centuries, the Quaker answer to that question has been pretty straightforward: it is Jesus Christ who gathers us in worship and who leads us in vocal ministry.
But in our liberal branch of the Quaker movement, since roughly the middle of the last century, we have become increasingly less Christ-centered in our understanding of that Spirit.
But even Jesus as the Christ was led by the Spirit.
As the gospel of Luke tells it, at his baptism a Spirit descended on Jesus, conferring upon him spiritual gifts of vision and mission. He then spent some time in the desert during which his vision was tested. And when he was clear in his discernment regarding his role in the kingdom of God, he went back home to Nazareth.
There, on the sabbath, the local rabbi invited him to read from the prophets. We can imagine that the rabbi was aware of Jesus’ claim to prophetic status, and wanted him to explain himself, to choose a passage that might provide a foundation for his claims, and some time to expound on the passage and explain why and how he was the messiah.
Jesus chose Isaiah 61, verses one and part of two: “The spirit of Yahweh God is upon me, because God has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the poor . . .” Isaiah, and Jesus in this passage in Luke, go on to unpack what good news to the poor meant. Then Jesus declared that Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled in him.
The spirit of God has anointed me, he proclaimed. The word “anointed” in Greek is the word “christ”; the word anointed in Hebrew is “messiah”. Jesus is saying, I have been anointed by God’s spirit, I have been christ-ed, I have been messiah-ed, by God’s spirit.
Several years later, shortly after his death, the same spirit of the christ anointed the disciples at the Pentecost, and led them into Spirit-led vocal ministry, jump-starting the post-crucifixion Christian movement.
And the spirit of the christing continued to anoint prophets and mystics for centuries after: Hildegard of Bingen, Julian of Norwich, Teresa of Avila, Meister Eckhart, Jacob Boehme . . . George Fox.
When George Fox preached to the Seekers on Firbank Fell in 1652, he was anointed by the same spirit of the christ, and they were convinced, they were themselves anointed, christ-ed, in the Spirit, in a second Pentecost, and that anointing jump-started the Quaker movement.
And the spirit of the christing has been anointing us ever since: John Woolman, Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Fry, Alice Paul, Sandra Cronk, Patricia Loring, Bill Taber.
And when we rise to speak, we too pray that we will be anointed by the same spirit that anointed Jesus and all these other prophets, mystics, and saints, one Spirit leading the faithful into vision and mission.
Teufelvolksbefolgengeist, Part 2
June 4, 2024 § 4 Comments
Casting out the spirit
Jesus’ answer to the problem of society’s possession by a violent and oppressive spirit is not to assault the man who is possessed, but to drive out the spirit that possesses him. To do this, he forces it to declare its name, its true-name, if you will—what it really is.
What is our Legion’s name?
I woke up a few mornings ago with a name in my mind: Teufelvolksbefolgengeist (pronounced toy’-full-folks-be-foal’-gen-gicest). (I love the German language for its capacity for creating compound nouns that say something concisely that you couldn’t say any other way, like zeitgeist, the spirit of the times.*) I translate teufelvolksbefolgengeist as the devil-spirit-whom-the-people-follow, whom they adhere to and obey.
The key to driving out this unclean spirit is not to attack the possessee, but the possessor, the teufelvolksbefolgengeist, the spirit that has infected our society. How do you do that?
First, we meet it with the truth of its name. This movement is following and obeying a spirit we have seen before. It animated Nazi Germany and reemerged in Soviet-occupied East Germany; it animated Stalin’s Russia. It’s an addiction to power and money, a love affair with the Satan, the father of lies, and with Mammon, the love of ill-gotten gain.
Second, we minister to the fears, trauma, and resentments that are the movement’s wellspring. Only by addressing the problems that the movement’s people face can we unbind them from their pain. Only communities can restore what they have lost—hope, a sense of belonging, of being seen and being known, and security, both material and spiritual. This calls governments, civic institutions, and the church to step up.
Third, we meet its most dangerous elements and their assaults with moral aikido, using their own energy and direction to disarm them and throw down their spirit, the way Jesus did repeatedly to his opponents. The way, for instance, that he caught out the scribes who tried to trap him into saying Jews shouldn’t pay the Roman tax: when you render unto God what is God’s, there’s nothing left for Caesar. For us, this means the law and the courts. And against the white Christian nationalists who are prominent in this movement (as “Christians” have always been in such movements), it means we prophetically uncover how they violate God’s laws with their words and deeds; specifically, in some cases, for instance, how they have broken their oaths of office, in which they had invoked God’s attention and judgment with the words at the end of their oath: “so help me God.”
Fourth, we meet the worst of them with humor and ridicule. Like Mel Brooks’s The Producers and the opening monologues of our late-night hosts. With political cartoons and video mash-ups of these possessed folks revealing their possessed selves, like John Oliver does in his show.
And fifth, we love. We call to their true selves. We answer that of God within them, that spirit within them that seeks truth, peace, wholeness, and love. I’m not talking about a feeling here, which we are just not going to feel. At least I’m not going to feel it, unless, perhaps, I get to know one of these folks personally. I’m talking about biblical love, which is something we do, not necessarily something we feel. With this love, we remember that we are dealing with a spirit, not just with a person; that these people are children of God, just like we are, that there is that of God within them, somewhere; that some trauma or pain lies behind their fear, their anger, their despair; that we must go high when they go low and remain faithful to our own moral compass.
To return to mythology and monsters for a moment, I take heart from a truth that guides the faithful fellowship of the ring in Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings: evil always overreaches and it does not expect others to make the sacrifices that it would never make itself. Sauron never expects the good guys to destroy the ring; he expects them to use it. In the chapter in the The Fellowship of the Ring titled “The Council of Elrond,” Gandalf says something that has always stuck in my mind: “[Sauron] weighs all things to a nicety on the scales of his malice.” Meaning, evil assumes that everybody else is malicious, too. But we aren’t.
* I studied German for two years in college and still retain a surprising amount of that knowledge, considering. But I think this word teufelvolksbefolgengeist came into my mind because I’ve been watching Amazon Prime’s TV series Grimm, in which each episode features a monster from fairy tales or mythology, a la the work of the brothers Grimm; they all have German compound-noun names. I have long been fascinated by the monsters in mythology and folklore, and have always loved a good monster story. Grimm is pretty good in this regard.
Note that the Grimm brothers did not just collect these stories, they studied them, and developed a vocabulary for categorizing them according to repeating themes and structures. Their approach was soon applied to the stories in the Bible, especially those in Christian scripture, giving birth to what is now called form criticism, which names various kinds of gospel story according to their theme, purpose, and structure. The brothers Grimm are the progenitors of one of the main disciplines in Bible criticism.