Quakers to Quest
Movements and individuals that follow the way of the heart have always inspired me. Yet, the way of the heart without the anchor of reason becomes a mere passion driven by unrestrained egoism. Or, reason without the passion of the heart can be turned into a deadened, abstract, lifeless force devoid of soul, life, and humanity.
The Religious Society of Friends, or Quakers, are Christian dissidents that have their origins in 17th century England. They are radically egalitarian, collectivist, mystical, and maintain a pacifist tradition vis-a-vis the state and war. They insist on individual relationships with God against the tyranny of hierarchical relationships. They also attempt to develop a simple manner of living and speaking within small, self-help communities. Quaker decision-making structures are also collectivist: A type of direct democracy in action.
In today's blog, I want to investigate the Quakers as a movement and the quest of individuals for life meaning throughout the ages. Quakers embody the way of the heart through mysticism and community belonging, while the quests of individuals in different epochs have taken numerous forms. There are probably as many quests as there are people on this majestic planet. In mythology or literature, a quest is the journey of an individual towards a goal. The quest usually has lots of obstacles, the hero or heroine learns lessons along the way, and there is a transformation of the individual in the course of the journey through distant, mythical lands.
Growing up on a kibbutz in Israel, I always thought that the Quakers had a model for an ideal society that was practicable and within reach of mere mortals. When you build community with few adherents, as the Quakers did successfully from Pennsylvania to Waterloo (Ontario), there is more of a chance to build a sustainable, democratic, collectivist, and spiritual community. The bigger the community, the more the levels of state involvement and bureaucracy, the less people determine their own sovereign affairs. So Quaker communities are small and better able to implement principles of direct democracy.
What I also found appealing about Quaker communities is that they refused to serve the military industrial complex. Born in Israel and steeped in national survival that comes with the barrel of the gun, pacifism had deep spiritual resonance. I was a child born in the midst of warfare. Growing up I always remembered the beautiful passage in Isaiah 2:4 of swords turned into ploughshares: "They will beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore." It is adorned outside the gates of the United Nations in New York.
Not that I would necessarily always subscribe to the mantra of pacifism. Quakers in Britain were even divided on the issue of pacifism during World War Two. Some Quakers broke with pacifism when Nazi Germany invaded Britain. Can we afford pacifism when faced with radical evil and the threat of annihilation? Should we not consider this question in respect of contemporary genocidal Islamists from al-Qaeda to Iran?
Yet, the flip side of the Quaker message is a powerful one: War is a process of massive de-humanization for all involved. It takes us away from our purpose and meaning in life: To serve God and our fellow creatures on this planet. Moreover, if the light of God is in each one of us, as Quakers insist, then war kills individuals that all embody the light of God. War is a crime against man (woman), God, and nature. It is all fine and well to regulate war through the Hague and Geneva Conventions, but starting wars is the real war crime, argue Quakers.
The Quaker message is still relevant today. It is ignored and derided as naive by the chattering classes precisely because they are hostage to a realpolitik lense that leaves us all blinded. An old Irish saying goes something like this: "An eye for an eye and everyone is blinded." War blinds us all. It makes us take sides and de-humanizes our "foes," reducing them to abstract entities that can be legitimately annihilated because they supposedly threaten our existence. The Quaker message about the global military industrial complex is also instructive. The more we spend on weapons and war, the less we spend on bread, social justice, homes, education, health, jobs, or the arts. We are constantly told that there is no money for the state to pay for some services. Yet, the "war on terror," Afghanistan, and Iraq led the United States under the fiscally conservative Republicans to go into deficit. Quakers also understand that wars may end, but the fallout lasts for years, generations, even centuries. A false "clash of civilizations" is evoked to continue the drumming for war. In essence, a "clash of civilizations" can also mask a "clash of interests," whether socio-economic, strategic, or geopolitical.
What I really appreciate about the Quakers is that they persist in the path of the collectivist heart. This is essential in an era of rampant capitalist excesses and egoism. The Quakers are our conscience. They put us to shame for not speaking out against wars, violence, state tyranny, social injustice, and the repression of individuals. The Quakers continue the tradition of the quest. They return to the original message of Christ, free of Church hierarchy and power relationships. They point to what all the major monotheistic faiths might become in a better world. Quakers have a way of combining respect for individuals and the community of faithful.
In the quest of individuals from Odysseus in Homer to Don Quixote in Cervantes, the hero is made in journeys that have internal and external obstacles. The hero might search for a precious object and may need to return it to a particular location in order to be radically transformed. Yet, this is not always the case. Sir Galahad's quest for the Holy Grail was to find it, not return it. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, after the tragic death of Enkidu, the hero searches for an emerald and seeks to attain eternal life.
We are all here on a quest. Each quest is unique. Each has its unexpected twists and turns. Some quests are collectivist in nature: the Quakers. Others are purely individualistic. All quests seek an object of attraction: Knowledge, wisdom, power, eternal life, a gorgeous maiden, or sexy prince. Cervantes said: "The road is always better than the inn." There is exhilaration, learning, and heroic self-surpassing in the quest. It is wonderful to have gratitude for the road of life, its joys and pains, its hills and valleys, its sunshine and rain. Yet, when we have finished walking along one road and our quest is complete, another road and another quest begins. Enjoying both the road and the inn might be more illuminating. Yet, the fascinating reality about humans is their constant striving in the service of a quest. In the course of our quests, we are both Being and Becoming.
Tamir Bar-On
No comments:
Post a Comment