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Primitive Christianity Revived, Again

Interpreting Our Past -- Part 3

Interpreting Our Past – Part 3

The Logic of Withdrawal

The period of Quietism is marked by a sense of withdrawal from the social sphere. This should not be exaggerated as Quakers did continue to be involved in various political causes and concerns, notably the abolition of slavery. Still, relatively speaking, Quakers in the period of Quietism became more inward, more contemplative, and less engaged with the specifically political.

I’m not a very learned Quaker historian, but there seem to be two factors which encouraged this relative withdrawal. The first was the passage of the acts of toleration in England which removed the worst of the legal threats to Quakers in England. These were passed in 1689. It is true that Quakers were still barred from various professions and higher education, but the threat of mass imprisonment and the most overt types of persecution had come to an end.

The second, which happened some decades later, was the withdrawal of Quakers from the legislature in Pennsylvania, and other colonial governments. This happened due to Quaker concerns with how political involvement would make it difficult, or impossible, to live their lives in accordance with their religious principles.

I believe there is a parallel in Christian history that applies to the inward turning of the period of Quaker Quietism. I am referring to the period of the Desert Fathers, which took place after the Christian Church was freed from persecution when Constantine granted Christianity legitimacy. The parallel here is intriguing: the lifting of the persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire lead to a flight to the desert among some Christians who sought to retain the primitive and devout nature of early Christian practice. In a similar way, the inward turning of Quaker Quietism happened after the persecutions of the Quaker people in England were lifted and a Quaker presence was tolerated.

There are other similarities. Both the Quietists and the Desert Fathers developed a concern with ascetic behaviors and practices. Though the specifics of these practices differ, I sense a common, unifying focus in each case. The worldly is to be avoided because it is corrupting. Quakers eschewed music, games, alcohol, dancing, novels, fashionable clothing, etc., because they wanted to maintain an inward focus on the Divine. The ascetic nature of Quaker Discipline at that time functioned as a kind of lens to keep that focus.

In a similar way, the Desert Fathers rejected worldly involvements and physically withdrew into the desert so that they could retain their focus on the Divine.

There are differences between the two groups. The most obvious is that the Desert Fathers practiced celibacy as part of their program of renunciation. In contrast, the Quaker Quietists were family-centered. This is a significant difference, yet I don’t think this difference should be overemphasized. There is an underlying ‘logic of withdrawal’ from the world which, when one compares the two movements, is surprisingly congruent.

What is that logic? I would like to suggest a possible mode of interpretation for understanding this impulse to withdraw from worldly concerns. If one understands that the purpose of religion is to awaken to that which is eternal, if one understands the presence of Eternity as the primary focus of faith and practice, then the logic of withdrawal makes sense. It makes sense because nothing in this world is eternal; everything that we perceive will pass away. There are psalms that speak to this. And the Book of Ecclesiastes is also, in part, an extended meditation on the ‘vanity’ of the world. ‘Vanity’ in the sense that nothing we will do in the world will, ultimately, last.

If one thinks of God as having characteristics that one can contemplate, and that contemplating these characteristics brings us closer to God, a primary characteristic of God is His eternity. God is eternal. Yet nothing in this world is eternal, and because of this to draw closer to God requires us to turn away from the things of the world and to turn to the presence of eternity.

I would like to suggest that the inward light that Quakers speak of is the presence of eternity in the ephemeral individual. That is to say the inward light is the grace of this eternal Presence freely given to the passing shadow known as human life. And it is this Presence which gives our lives meaning and worth.

I believe that both the Desert Fathers and the Quaker Quietists share this underlying understanding. As it says in Chapter 1 of ‘A Guide to True Peace’,

“We must retire from all outward objects, and silence all the desires and wandering imaginations of the mind that in this profound silence of the whole soul, we may hearken to the ineffable voice of the Divine Teacher.”

This is a view that the Desert Fathers would have readily understood. This is a view that the Desert Fathers would have accepted and advocated. And it is a view and perspective which, I feel, is at the heart of what it means to be a Quaker.

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Comment by Jim Wilson on 6th mo. 12, 2014 at 9:24am: Friend John:

Thanks for highlighting this. It is a significant point; that the logic of withdrawal is primed by the Love of God. It is a manifestation of that love.

Best wishes,

Jim

Comment by Patricia Dallmann on 6th mo. 12, 2014 at 10:04am: Yes, I agree that any outward discipline such as withdrawal from the world, keeping of the commandments, or practicing moral virtue should be understood as a means to the end of knowing the Presence of God. I think, however, that it is only after the gift of faith has been given- that is of knowing the person of Christ - that this correlation (of means to end) can be made. Prior to being given that initial transcendent awareness, which is the second birth, it is appropriate and necessary, I'd say, to love what is beautiful, exalted, and excellent, as this is what refines the intellect and thus prepares the way and makes straight the path to receive the gift of faith.

Comment by Keith Saylor on 6th mo. 13, 2014 at 5:35am: Christ's presence is air. It is all around and inside. I do not need an outward apparatus to breathe. While going about my daily tasks ... I breathe. Presence is breath. In the new covenant, outward disciplines, codes, practices, are no longer needful. They are a hinderance to living devotion in each and every moment of daily activity. Just breathe and there is the Life free from outward conceptual and institutional form.

Comment by Jim Wilson on 6th mo. 13, 2014 at 10:28am: Good Morning:

Patricia, what thee writes makes sense to me. And I appreciate the clarity of thy post. Faith is a prerequisite for the effectiveness of these kinds of practices. I like to give ordinary analogies for this. If, for example, I want to learn a foreign language, say German, I have to trust, or have faith, that I am capable of it, that my teacher is knowledgeable, and that it is worthwile. At the beginning I can't actually know these things. If I don't have faith regarding these things, I simply won't bother trying. Similarly, with faith in Jesus all practices become coherent and make sense.

Luke: I studied Zen for many years, with periods of study in Korea and Japan. I have taken a similar journey. Regarding 'anatman', my view at this time is that I don't really think it maps onto Christian experience where a fullness, rather than an absence, is the ultimate.

Keith: A few comments on your perspective. First, thee does need an outward apparatus to breathe; thee needs plants, sunlight, and many other contributing and supporting factors must be present in order for breath to occur. Just try breathing under water. In truth, none of us breathes on our own.

The view thee has, in my opinion, is not helpful for the vast majority of people. To take an analogy, suppose I wanted to learn how to play the guitar. I go to a music teacher who is known as a good guitar player. At our first lesson the guitar teacher says, 'Just play the guitar. You don't need any disciplines, practices, or exercises. All people are great musicians as are you. So just play the guitar.' I don't think that would be very helpful. I would look for another teacher.

In a similar way, disciplines, codes of conduct, and practices are necessary for awakening to the Presence of the Spirit of Christ. That is why Quakers had a Book of Discipline, because there is a connection between dwelling in the Presence of Christ and how one lives one's life.

Now I know that thee does not see it that way, and I respect that. I even admire it. Yet for people like me, and I believe for the vast majority of people, the approach thee takes not only will not be helpful, I believe it can actually be harmful and countereffective. Please don't take this persoanally. I am simply asking thee to be more sympathetic to how most people actually experience their lives and their relationship to God.

Best wishes,

Jim

Comment by Patricia Dallmann on 6th mo. 13, 2014 at 12:34pm: Thank you for your comment, Jim. I always appreciate the clear, good sense that you exhibit in your writing. Sometimes in laboring to get the exact meaning that I want, I lose more clarity than I gain. Your writing is model and a reminder.

Your response to Keith underscored for me that there is a time when discipline is needed, and a time to set it aside: when it's a "hindrance to living devotion," as Keith said. To use your metaphor of learning the guitar, after the student has undergone the discipline of learning to play, there comes a point when he must set aside all the particulars he's learned and allow the music itself to guide his playing. All the discipline has been necessary up to that point, but it becomes a hindrance if not let go. This same point is made in scriptures when Jesus sets aside the laws of the tradition, such as honoring the Sabbath (as well as the cultural rules, such as not eating with sinners); he puts the Mosaic law in its significant, but secondary place (Mt. 5:17-20).

After reading what Keith wrote in his last comment, I deeply considered the image of breathing in the Presence, and then found the Presence was with me. (I'm grateful, Keith, for your help.) There's a power that when spoken from, or written from, finds the witness in another! and this elicitation manifests the unity in the eternal that we all have with one another. Fox wrote: "Mind that which is eternal, which lifts your hearts up to the Lord, and let's you see that you are written on one another's hearts."

Knowing when discipline is needed and knowing when it needs to be set aside are both important. The conscience is the guide on this, and that's why it's important to keep it in good working order.

Comment by Jim Wilson on 6th mo. 13, 2014 at 2:32pm: Thanks, Patricia, for thy post. It made me realize that perhaps my comment about Keith's approach not being helpful was itself not very helpful. Perhaps if I expand a little on what I mean it will be clearer.

I worked for 3 years in a prison for the criminally insane. I was a Chaplain. This prison is at a whole other level than a regular prison. I learned a great deal there about what is possible for extremely distressed human beings. I learned that story-telling, prayer, and simple practices, can be very helpful. I also learned that formless styles of contemplation do not work well in such an environment; in fact they only encourage certain types of delusion to flourish. This period in my life has been pivotal for how I evaluate spiritual advice and practices. My fallback question is whether or not such an approach would work in that environment. That is where I am coming from.

My view is that the kind of approach Keith advocates for is dependent upon living in a certain context; it is dependent upon having enough money, upon having a sound mind and, probably, a sound body. I think it is shaped by these socio-economic factors and for that reason I do not think it is universally applicable or effective. I could be wrong about that, but my experience in life leads me to that conclusion.

On another matter, I am reluctant to engage in certain theological issues you have brought up because they are complex, and because I think they would take the focus of this thread in a direction away from its primary aim; which is the period of Quietism, what Quietists were doing, and why they were doing it. But for those who might want to inquire about the function of discipline in Christian life, I would recommend 'Celebration of Discipline' by Richard Foster as a good place to start.

Best wishes,

Jim

Comment by Laura Scattergood on 6th mo. 13, 2014 at 5:29pm: Jim, One of the things I have begun to realize is that not everyone is concerned about ministering to others, whether it be following the instructions given in the parable of the Good Samaritan, the Sermon on the Mount or the words concerning service in James. Whether it be ministering in spirit or body, this is not the concern of everyone and I find that when I speak to those matters with those not called in the areas of ministry or service I am not at all understood. Since thee served those in prison and those who are mentally ill, two things I have done, not as a chaplain but as a clinician and Social Worker, Jim, we may share the same concerns in some areas. When I feel called to alleviate suffering I equate this with fellowship with and service to Christ, but not everyone is called to experience Christ in this way, (I guess)

Comment by Patricia Dallmann on 6th mo. 14, 2014 at 9:42am: Jim, I admire the courage and prudence that must have been required and tested in your work with the criminally insane, and I appreciate your showing the connection between your experience working with the prisoners and your thought on effective spiritual practice.

I felt some confusion when I read some of your last comment though, and I'm going to try to discover and articulate a different perspective on a couple of points. As I want to honor your request to keep this space free for discussion on Quietism, I'll start another post on my page to explore these points with the hope of converting my confusion into clarity.

Comment by Jim Wilson on 6th mo. 14, 2014 at 10:06am: Good Morning:

Laura, thanks for thy comments.I hadn't thought about the issue from the perspective of one's chosen area of service; but now that you point it out it makes sense.

Patricia: Thanks for thy understanding and I look forward to reading your views.

Best wishes,

Jim

Comment by Laura Scattergood on 6th mo. 14, 2014 at 11:08am: Hi Jim,

I guess I mean that when I did work that I was paid for, even though it wasn't pastoral work, my clinical training was infused by my Source, when I was working at my best. ( I went to a Seventh Day Adventist grad school.) I am sorry to be going off the thread, if I am. Then there is work I do that isn't paid for, that I do when asked to do it. Again, sorry to be distracting the thread, but I am one of those people that worship and service always came in one package. If my comments are irrelevant because my orientation is so infused with outward action, I apologize, but I guess it offers a counterpointe and I was speaking to thy work in prisons, Jim. Anyway, signing off because I think I am off-topic and I apologize for any distraction!

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