The core of Quakerism

Our meeting is undergoing a year-long process to discern what its ministries are, and how to organize itself to perform them. One of the first steps in the process was to ask Friends "What is the core of the meeting to you?"

I remember saying this in response in one meeting for worship: I'm not sure I like the metaphor of the "core" of the meeting, or of Quakerism. It makes me think of some kind of irreducible matter, like the wire core of a rope. But then I got to thinking that the core of the Earth is liquid, a molten mass that is alive and always moving. And the core of an apple or a peach is where the seed is, where the life and the future is, and with that in mind, that seed is an apt metaphor describing the core of the meeting to me.

Yesterday, I came across this article by Chuck Fager in the latest issue of Quaker Theology entitled "The Core of Quaker Theology: Is There Such a Thing?" In it, Chuck makes a similar observation:

. . . I want to raise questions about the notion of a "core" Quaker theology as a metaphor. It suggests that Quaker thought is like an apple, which at the center has a few seeds that are its heart and hope for the future. Or perhaps itÂ’s imagined to be like the core layers of a tree trunk, sometimes bending with strong winds but nonetheless standing resilient and steady at the center while the years add layers of history around the edges.

These are strong, comforting images. But I want to suggest that Quakerism may not be like that. Or at least, not like the tree trunk. The seeds, perhaps. ThatÂ’s because the seeds can carry not only continuity, but change.

He goes on to develop a thesis that, at the core of Quakerism is not a single, essential doctrineexperiencece, or any other "thing", but a number of parallel but overlapping "trajectories", always in motion:

[F]rom the Gospel of John . . . Jesus speaks of the spirit as being like the wind, . . . we hear the sound of it, but we don't know where it's coming from or where it's going. Religious trajectories are subject to those winds too. You can think of them as elements of the "core" if you like, but elements in motion through time and space, motion through our minds and experience, motion from being pushed and nudged by the wind of the spirit. And more important, this motion is not incidental; it's part of the essence of the elements. Quakerism isn't and never was a static thing. It moves and is moved.

He concludes:

If anything must be the "core" of Quaker theology, I commend this image to your consideration: wrestling with our tradition and experience as a people, and wrestling with what this can mean for us today and tomorrow. What we're doing today is an example of this. Don't worry about becoming too weary; you will also have time outs, periods of rest and blessed community in the process.

But wrestle we must, because we do not struggle alone, or only with each other. We are also struggling with the One who called us to be a people, and calls us still, and can still bless us, Friends, if we do not let go.

As is often the case, I find Chuck's insights penetrating and full of hope. I commend this article to anyone concerned with the renewal of the Society of Friends as a prophetic witness to the world. (It's also satisfying to find baseball used as an illustration in a discussion of Quakerism. It makes my evenings listening to ballgames seem less frivolous.)