Living Water

Was bouncing back and forth between reading a collection of Quaker essays and correspondence called The Lamb's War (which does not include James Naylor's essay of the same name) and a book by jazz piano phenom Kenny Werner -- Effortless Mastery. I re-read bits of Werner's book on a regular basis, and it is an inspiration and an excellent guide to any improvisational musician who wants to set aside their intellectual baggage and play emotively in the moment. Players who can do this can actually leave the listener in a state of spiritual elation and uplift, according to Werner, and this should be the ultimate goal of a true musician.

Werner stresses that in order to do this, we must draw from a deep spiritual well, and must restrict our playing to that which we have absolute physical mastery of. Playing the notes or patterns of notes become autonomous activities, and we can focus our minds on listening to the other players around us and interacting with them. A certain amount of spiritual strength is necessary to believe that the limited amount of skill we have allows us to play the "right stuff," and not second-guess ourselves, robbing our music of the power that confidence brings. The ability to move people with music comes not from the intellect, according to Werner, but from our ability to step aside and allow the music to channel itself through us.

The Lamb's War, frankly, is growing on me slowly, as its format is a bit disjointed and like an hors d'oeuvre, is meant to be nibbled instead of consumed in a single sitting. But there is an excellent essay on the early spiritual life of George Fox. In "The Pre Pendle-Hill Spirituality of George Fox," Alan L. Kolp culls Fox's Journal for insight on Fox's keen early awareness of his spiritual need. This innate hunger for meaning and for God -- that inward Light -- let Fox see that others around him were deadening and distracting themselves with other things when they should be opening their condition to Christ, the Inward Free Teacher. Christ had come to teach his people himself! We could have the same relationship with Him as did the disciples -- a true return to early Christianity.

So what is the connection between these two texts? Why are they thus lumped together? I suspect there might be a point here, let's see ...

Fox saw the Lord not in those who studied at seminary, or those who "professed" religion but did not practice it in their hearts. Werner stresses that it is not an intellectual study of great players and that allows us to communicate spiritual truth with music, but the ability to limit ourselves -- to build our skill up and strip our playing down to the point where we need not think about it. There are certainly well-educated players with advanced degrees whose playing has no impact on an audience. Sometimes in the moment, self-doubt and intellect even interrupts the performance and sabotages the academic player's performance even on a technical level. The mind must yield, the body must surrender, to the beatific heart which shines out over all.

There are also many individuals who have advanced seminary degrees, can quote scripture ad nauseum and are called pastor or minister or reverend. They wear fancy robes and collars, and address their Followers each week in a church not of the Lord but a church made with human hands. But do they move the spirit? Do they direct people to the well of Eternal Life, or are they just moving air with their lungs, loosing meaningless words into a cavernous space?

Fox, on the other hand, came to ministry not by vocation but by a calling, and felt moved by God to share his revelations on the world. Fox's revelations were certainly not intellectual, and his physical self had to be internally crucified to allow himself to become a vessel for the Lord. In George Fox's Journal, we repeatedly see situations where the "priests" challenge him, but fail in their confidence in the moment. Sometimes they do not show up at the venue of the planned debate, and other times they simply do not rise to the occasion with a credible front as Fox uses scripture to prove that hireling ministry and institutions are against the spirit and letter of the scriptures, and that the Kingdom of God has come and is coming!

Whether we are reading the scriptures, delivering vocal ministry, or playing an instrument it is this shining soul drenched with Christ that must reign supreme. Werner outlines that it is not important for a jazz trumpeter to play like Dizzy Gillespie -- or a piano player to play like Thelonius Monk did (how could anyone get away with playing the dissonant stuff that Monk did -- THAT takes confidence) -- rather it is important to FEEL like Gillespie FELT -- TO FEEL like Monk FELT. Talking about the Kingdom or pronouncing words about the Kingdom is not the same as living in the Kingdom.

It is not important that we know every bit of scripture -- but it is critical that we consume and digest the scriptures necessary to sustain us, and incorporate them in our lives the way a musician incorporates a scale or arpeggio in their playing. It is not important that we believe as the Disciples believed. But it is crucial that we feel the way the disciples felt, that we open ourselves to the Lord as did the prophets and allow God to make us his Instruments on earth.

We must play skillfully with a joyful noise until the Lord!
http://www.carm.org/kjv/Psalms/Psalm_98.htm

Finished reading A.N. Wilson's "Jesus, A Life," the biography of Jesus mentioned a few posts down. Here are some cursory thoughts on the text.

Reviewers have criticized Wilson for not doing any of his own research for this book, and for various other shortcomings. I appreciate scholarly work on the scriptures as much or more than the next person, and they have their usefulness in biblical exegesis. A book like Wilson's can ideally serve as an aggregator for these various works, and a layman's voice can render abstruse comments in a more accessible manner.

In a few instances, Wilson I think succeeds in this de-mystification of basic New Testament analysis. But he does so with a sardonic tone that reminds me of groups like the Freedom From Religion Foundation, and it is noteworthy that Wilson has vacillated between the Catholic and Anglican Churches, but in the most recent reports I can find Wilson declares himself an atheist. So as Wilson chooses and analyzes information, he does so not through the eyes of faith, but as noted in a post below, still seems to have a deeper appreciation and respect for the Quaker Gospel of John than many other writers. According to Wilson, subtle linguistic and cultural clues suggest that content in the Gospel of John was influenced more by the Jewish origins of Christianity, and elements of the language suggest the content likely started off in Aramaic -- with some words tying in more closely to the way Jesus and his disciples would have spoken and understood things.

However, Wilson also spends a good deal of ink suggesting that the evangelist Paul could have met Jesus before the Crucification, and that his conversion may have been a reaction to some type of guilt for a role in Jesus' death. Much of the content of the book is wildly speculative, and Wilson seems to my eyes to slip easily back and forth between suggesting certain scriptural passages are obviously not factual and then referring to them as part of the landscape of Jesus' life.

Some very liberal biblical scholars and theologians can see the scriptures simply as a spiritual history of a people -- a record of their religious beliefs and experiences. Yet, these scholars and theologians can have a deep relationship with Jesus Christ. But the one statement that convinced me with absolute certainty that Wilson is not among this aforementioned group was this passage from page 169 of my hardcover edition ...

"So the historian is faced with a double problem: the problem of seeing what, if anything, can be extracted from the Gospel writings which can be regarded as historical, and the problem of accounting for the faith which produced those writings in the first place. I am not here subscribing to the well-worn 'Pentacost' argument, which asks how a group of poor, frightened individuals, whose master has been crucified could have been transformed into a group of highly articulate men and women, prepared to die in order to communicate their faith in the Gospel (sometimes called in such arguments 'the Resurrection experience') to the world. The poorness of this argument is that it presupposes that we know what 'the disciples' were in fact like before they had 'the resurrection experience.' History is full of people who were willing to die for their beliefs. The Resurrection is important not because of the change it effected on his disciples, but because of the chage it seems to have effected on Jesus himself ..."

Here is my response to Wilson on this point. Imagine someone who believes every word of the scriptures -- including the physical resurrection of Jesus on the third day after his death -- but does not allow that belief to change the way he or she relates to God, and does not have any type of ongoing relationship with Christ. The point of the resurrection and Pentacost and Jesus' ministry is EXACTLY that it should affect us in our hearts. To separate the history and the theology from the religious experience is to my mind to crucify Jesus all over again. My own theology might be liberal enough that there are elements of the Gospels I do not believe refer to historical events as much as symbolic ones, but even for someone with squishy theology the meaning of the Gospels must be felt in their ability to change us inside of our hearts. Whether we encounter a risen, physical Christ and stick our hand in his side, see Christ transfigured on the day of Pentacost as did the disciples before their transformation from squabbling followers into Christ-filled leaders, or whether we simply commune with Christ Jesus the Inward Free Teacher, it is exactly our inward experience and the effect that Christ has on us that matters.

Wilson's book does do a good job of comparing the Passion stories in the three synoptic Gospels and in John, and the book has a few endearing qualities, including the fact that if you are lucky as I am you will find it dirt cheap at a place like Half Price Books while waiting for your alignment job to be completed. Christ-centered Quakers will find plenty to argue with Wilson about, so if a good argument drives you deeper into the scriptures, this could be a book for you.

I am positive that I am not the only Christocentric Quaker to be wagged by members of their liberal meeting for being "inwardly focused" instead of being an "activist."

In these situations, I find myself thinking of the press conference held by Frank Sinatra to announce his new line of salad dressing. It is purported that on that occasion, a reporter mentioned that Paul Newman was donating all of his profits to charity. Sinatra is said to have answered, "Yeah, we do that too, but we just don't like to talk about it."

To a certain extent, some "activist" projects on the part of Quakers seems to be political posturing -- patting oneself on the back for being politically correct. After all, how many rallies does it take to end a war? If we all display enough bumper stickers, can we really change the way people think and behave? Or are we just stroking ourselves into thinking that we are Good -- when I personally think Quakers should believe that there is but One that is Good. There is but One who can work on the hearts of men and liberate them from their sinful ways.

Some conservative Quakers have a different world view than liberal Quakers -- with conservatives seeing history as being more episodic in terms of improvements and decline in social condiations and justice. In some eras and parts of the world, conditions might be good, while at other times conditions in these same nations might decline. Liberal Friends may see history more as a progression towards a more ideal social state. Despite this disparity, it could be that conservative Quakers are just as if not more giving to those in need than liberal Quakers, but might shy away from some social causes that are not as grounded in the scriptures or Christian witness as others. I am not sure what others' observations on this might be.

My own view has progressed more in the conservative direction over the years, and increasingly I wonder how the liberal wing of Quakerism will hold up as the social pendulum in the developed world swings back the other way. We live in perhaps the most permissive culture in history, and this has allowed us to take for granted our social freedoms. Secular activism is easy in the United States today, but if persecution, imprisonment and death become the reward of this activism, will secular Quakers keep up the fight? Or will only faith in Christ be powerful enough a motivator to stimulate Christian witness in the face of severe hardship? Would early Quakers endure the imprisonment and tortures they did without their sense of the immediate presence of God, and the knowledge that they were doing God's bidding?

Each time I am characterized as not being "activist" and indulging myself by pursuing my own spiritual journey in Christ, I find myself thinking -- first of all -- that in our outward works we are not to let our left hand know what our right hand is doing. If we are doing the work of God, does it serve the cause to tell anyone about it? Or is our communication purely self-congratulatory, or worse yet confrontational towards those who might not agree with us?

I then find myself thinking how this secular activist focus is robbing Quakerism of the power of its Christian witness. In an ill-advised attempt to cleanse Quakerism of Christ, we dishonor those who see their activism as a leading of the Holy Spirit. The Christian martyrdom of Tom Fox in Iraq is an example of this, and the paradoxical fact that Quaker organizations were ill-prepared to deal publicly with his death is analyzed at length on the blog of Martin the Quaker Ranter (whose blog you should check out anyway). Major Quaker bodies like the American Friends Service Committee and even Friends General Conference are so focused on the causes of this world that they have a hard time relating any of these causes to an inward leading by Christ.

This secular focus causes many Friends, I fear, to forget that the battle between good and evil is not an outward political one any more than it is an outward military one. We must first be strong in our spiritual selves -- a vessel for Christ -- empty as much as we can be of our wordly, human failings. Until we are at peace with God, we can not instill peace in anyone else. The source of that peace is not secular political thought, but rather a willingness to disavow this world in favor of the immediacy of the Kingdom of Heaven. It is this fact that requires us to spread the Gospel if we be true activists.

Just as a hireling minister can inhibit the spiritual development of a congregation, Quaker bodies can fail their members in some of the same ways. Hireling ministers can become a surrogate for their congregant's spirituality, and can also tend to sugarcoat the spiritual truth -- or tell congregants what they want to hear -- for the sake of avoiding offense and hanging onto their jobs. Quaker bodies can be guilty of this latter sin, distancing themselves from the prophetic Quaker message to appease their increasingly secular membership.

"He who is last among you shall be first" was the advice given Jesus to his apostles, and a concept that is alive and well in the ideal nature of Friends' decision-making. But at what point do attempts on the part of Quaker organizations to act as a "servant" to other Quakers turn these organizations into "enablers" of these same Quakers as they drift into apostasy, and forget the spiritual and scriptural underpinnings of the social stances they take? And should some of the current "politically correct" stances taken by many Quakers be abandoned? The Religious Society of Friends is structured in the loose, leader-less way that it is so it Christ can be its head. As these Quaker organizations turn away from Christ, who shall lead them back? Who shall provide that prophetic zeal to turn Quakers back to the inward free teacher, and back to the scriptures? Who shall be that much-needed traveling prophetic evangelist to ride into town, pull out the proverbial fire and the brimstone and put the "fear of the Lord" into folks before departing to the next venue?

While perusing a bookstore last week, I came across a copy of A.N. Wilson's book Jesus; A Life. The book, which purports to be a biography of Jesus, looks at Jesus from the standpoint of his Jewishness, through the eyes of the apostle Paul, through the story of the passion, and other sources. Wilson's approach to biblical exegesis takes me back to my coursework in New Testament while I was in college.

In those years, I approached the scriptures from the standpoint of irreligion. I took delight in pointing out biblical passages that seemed to contradict other passages, or that were politically incorrect. I imagined that I was more intelligent than believers, more cultured. Yet inwardly, I lacked the confidence that my outward pronouncements suggested. No, there was no road to Damascus experience, but rather, a gradual movement of the heart. Or could it be that my heart was stationary and Christ entered it through its gaping holes.

Wilson, from time to time, approaches the scriptures in some of the terse, critical ways that remind me of my misspent youth. He points out the impossibility of Paul's own road to Damascus experience, explaining that Damascus was outside the reach of the persecutions that Paul may have been involved in. He ridicules the virgin birth narrative, and points out how the synoptic gospel evangelists each embellish their accounts to appeal to their respective audiences. He is particularly critical of Paul, delving into the internal conflicts and changing theological views of the prolific evangelist.

Yet Wilson is surprisingly kind to John, the Quaker Gospel. Wilson suggests that despite accepted scholarly dating, John may be one of the earliest Gospels, or at least may rely on earlier sources than do Mark, Matthew and Luke. Wilson's chapter on The Cooked Fish; Or How To Read a Gospel, I think makes the book worthwhile just by itself.

The Quaker approach to scripture -- reading in the light which brought the scriptures forth in the spirit of continuing revelation -- may remove some scriptural challenges experienced by those who rely on the scriptures entirely for their understanding of God. But I wonder how Christocentric Friends approach the concept of biblical criticism. As I delve into Wilson's text, I find myself drawn further into the scriptures, and perhaps coming away with a better understanding of their initial meaning. But what sayest thou? Are we better to take the scriptures as they are handed to us, without delving beneath their apparent meaning, concentrating not on the historical Jesus but the Jesus who walks the corridors of our heart? Or should we seek out more information, and try to gain a more complete understanding of the Jesus who walked the earth?

I am not settled on the matter. Were Wilson's book coming between me and Christ, I would put it down. Could material of this type be more valuable to some Friends than others, or to Friends at a certain point on their spiritual journey?

I attended my local Quaker meeting this First-Day, and held myself as close as I could to the depth of Christ's inward fountain. Once again, the vocal ministry turned political, and a long-time member began to speak on the war in Iraq.

I oppose the war, but wonder how many modern Quakers came to the society because they are pacificists, and how many are pacifists because Jesus described his Kingdom of being not of this world, admonishing his followers to love their enemies. "Were my Kingdom of this world, my followers would fight. But as it happens, it is not here," Jesus told Pilate.

As Quakers, we must strive to live in that Kingdom and not in the world. Yet so many who consider themselves Friends still view war as a political issue rather than a failure of the spirit. In my heart, I have come to feel that attending rallies that demonize those we oppose is just another form of strife and contention. Individuals or politicians who oppose the war today on secular or practical grounds may reverse themselves tomorrow. Only a spiritual opposition to war can be reliable and permanent, but such is not the case in many Quaker meetinghouses.

This secular focus is to be found without the meetinghouse as well as within. Bumper stickers outside of the meetinghouse hold the names of political candidates -- despite the scriptural recommendation that we put our faith not in men. Other bumper stickers suggest that we outlaw war, even though Christ made it clear that the external law of antiquity now must live within us. Another sticker proclaims that the driver is a proud member of the religious left -- yet the love of Christ by definition transcends partisanship and political left and right, which are positions of convenience for those who value the opinions of men before the truth as revealed by God.

Where are the bumper stickers that proclaim that Real Men Love Jesus, or My Boss is a Jewish Carpenter? I am loathe to put any bumper sticker on my Mazda 3, but were I to do so this would be the type of bumper sticker I would choose.

Which begs not only the question -- not What Would Jesus Drive -- but What Bumper Sticker Would George Fox have? I would not presume to make assumptions on what Jesus would drive. Such a topic needs to be discussed by weighty theologians like Dan Daniels and Your No Good Buddies (see http://cdbaby.com/mp3lofi/ddyngb-03.m3u). But I feel Fox would drive a smallish, practical station wagon appropriate for his itinerant journeys. And his bumper sticker would say something like:

The Power of the Lord is Over All!

~or~

Christ is the Light of the World!

~or~

Hearken to the Inward Free Teacher!


Wars come not from being affilitated with the left or the right. They come from an alienation from God and from living in the temporal world rather than in the Kingdom of God. Fox stressed that the Kingdom of Heaven "has come and is coming." If we recognize this and live in the light of this Kingdom, we can not be moved to fight each other with outward weapons, and we will also disavow the political posturing and intrigues that are also parts of the secular world. Those who would prevent war should simply spread the Everlasting Gospel and allow God to transform the hearts of men.