The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure,
enduring forever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
and drippings of the honeycomb.
(Psalm 19:7-10, New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition)
Modern Quakers have a well-known (some might even say notorious) independent streak.
For many Friends, the rejection of creed or doctrine has become a key element of their Quaker identity. In some cases, such rejection evolves into a suspicion of organized religion in general, perhaps even Christianity in particular. Nobody can tell a Quaker what to believe, the logic runs—not even God. As for obedience, well, consider that a total non-starter.
The argument holds some attraction, I confess. Who doesn’t like to believe in the strength of their own moral discernment? Surely such an innate ability to sort right from wrong led us to our Quaker meetings in the first place—these people get it! Not entirely, of course, because we still have a lot to argue about in every meeting for business, but we’ve all got our hearts in the right place, and they’ll see things my way eventually, right? Or maybe I’ll generously give in on their pet issue, because I want to save my strength for something bigger, something really important.
I do sympathize with those whose antipathy toward religious strictures stems from personal experience with repressive or abusive religious communities. When you think about it, the Religious Society of Friends came together under similar circumstances nearly four centuries ago. But while George Fox and his peers had lots to say about how their contemporary churches had lost the way, they held firm to the call of the Inward Christ as they heard it for themselves. They did not allow the suffering they endured at the hands of men to diminish their love for God. (We could unpack how and why belief in God has weakened since Fox’s time, and debate whether that trend has served humanity well. But let’s set that discussion aside for now.)
The early Friends would have agreed with the Psalmist: “The law of the Lord is perfect.”
I say this with confidence, because Isaac Penington turned to this verse repeatedly in his essays. “There is a law of prayer, a law of faith,” he writes in God’s Teachings, and Christ’s Law:
“a law of love, a law of new obedience, a law of liberty (for the liberty under the gospel is not boundless, but bounded by the Spirit), a royal law, which the King of glory writes, and keeps living in the heart; by which his will is understood, and the way of life known, which never can be understood by any but those in whom this law is written, even the law of the new covenant, the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus.”
(He uses even in its seventeenth-century sense of namely.)
Penington then cites Psalm 19, quoting the translation of the King James and Geneva Bibles: “The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul.” He offers a Quakerly gloss: “Certainly the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus is all this, containing in it the commandment which is life everlasting, and the sure testimony, and all the holy statutes, judgments, and fear, which the soul need to learn; and is indeed perfect, and able to convert, and instruct perfectly the converted soul.”
And how can we achieve this conversion? Only “by dying to [our own] wisdom and will,” he says in The Sum and Substance of Our Religion:
“For the light is wholly contrary to man, as he stands in the alienation from God. It crosseth his spirit, his thoughts, his desires, his knowledge, his reason, his understanding; even all that is of himself. He must therefore consult with none of these, but prefer the little, pure demonstration of the light of Christ’s Spirit above all these.”
Here Penington returns to the psalm, inviting his readers to contemplate the law of the Lord and its perfection.
“Can Christ and his light be separated?” he asks. “Can any man receive his light and be united thereto, and not receive him?” To these queries, he offers “a standing truth, which hath been sealed unto me by constant experience”:
“That no man can fall in with and obey the light wherewith he is enlightened, but he must deny himself, and take up a cross to his own wisdom and will; which cross is the cross of Christ, which is the power of God to the salvation of the soul.”
It would never have occurred to Penington, or to other early Friends, that they could define morality for themselves. They would have looked upon such a thought as a temptation meant to keep humanity “in the hand and under the power of the wicked one.” They did not see obedience to God’s law as a show of weakness, but as a humble acknowledgement of God’s greatness, and of the righteousness of God’s love for them and for all of creation. Rather than a burden, they viewed God’s law as an abundant gift, one they accepted wholeheartedly—and one that would remain available to anyone willing, as Penington had been, “to turn inwards… to mind the appearance of God there” within their hearts.
Ron:
I generally think your Biblical musings are worth reading, but I suggest that the first two paragraphs of this essay should be dropped – skip right to the musing about Isaac Penington’s writing without casting judgment on “many Friends”. Your description of us as a folk suspicious of “organized religion in general, perhaps even Christianity in particular” is a straw man, comparable to the characterization of all religion as promoting violence, as in atheists like Dawkins. To claim that “Nobody can tell a Quaker what to believe, the logic runs—not even God. As for obedience, well, consider that a total non-starter” ignores all of us who fit into the middle, between those who grant the Bible absolute authority and those who believe in no God at all.
My interpretation of Penington is that he describes his own inner experience – consistent with Quakerism being an experiential religion – and tries to reconcile it with the doctrine of God’s perfection. Penington asks “Can Christ and his light be separated?” because it is a real question he was struggling with, as do we.
-Eric
Thanks for the thoughtful response, Eric — but I do have experience with the type of Friend you describe as a straw man, so to me this represents a real phenomenon. One can say “not all Friends,” of course, and I did endeavor to qualify my observations: “For many Friends,” “in some cases.” Perhaps I could have clarified that “the logic runs” in those cases, as opposed to among all Friends; I thought I had, but in hindsight I recognize the possibility of confusion and conflation.
In another comment, John Smallwood references “the challenge of religious obedience.” I know we could say a lot more about that challenge, and I think the upcoming liturgy readings may provide some opportunity to do that! As you suggest, we may find a great many Friends in the space between accepting Scripture as absolute authority and embracing atheism.
The challenge of religious obedience is difficult for modern liberal Friends. We celebrate our individualistic freedom to approach the divine in ways we self-determined. We are open to suggestions from Quaker tradition. But we rebel at any suggestion of obedience. This pride is our golden calf.
Funny you should mention the golden calf, John… keep an eye out for next week’s message!
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Prov.3:5-6
Do you see a person wise in their own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for them. Prov.26:12
You save the humble but bring low those whose eyes are haughty. Psalm 18:27
Well-written essay. It does take a lot of chutzpah to elevate our wisdom about God’s.