Most religious traditions have a shared view on whether there is a God. Liberal Quakers are unusual in not expecting or requiring any particular statement of religious belief. This causes some Quakers to question how people who believe radically different things can worship or discern together in Quaker meetings.
This question has often been posed in confrontational ways. Quakers have been encouraged to self-identify as ‘nontheists’ or ‘theists’ and to assert their group’s rights to inclusion and influence. Framing differences of belief as an issue of identity has done real damage to our communities. It has created distrust about what ‘those others’ are thinking or doing. It has led to widespread self-censorship, as people silence themselves to avoid giving offence or being criticised for their choice of words. It has suppressed our willingness to share experiences, as we assume that people with different identities can never understand each other. Silent worship is even sometimes justified as a way for Quakers to tolerate different beliefs, by not having to hear about them.
All of this reflects a false and simplistic understanding of what religious belief actually means in people’s lives.
Religious beliefs are not just statements of fact about the existence of a supernatural being. I could hold an opinion that something called ‘God’ exists, without this affecting my motivations or actions in any way. This wouldn’t be a religious belief, because religious belief is not just having an opinion that something is true, but orienting my life in a certain way. Belief in facts is always a matter of probability. Religious belief is the certainty of trust.
The meaning of belief in God is shown by what a person does with it. Believing can mean trusting in the promises of God, resting in God’s love and following God’s guidance. It often means judging one’s own life and behaviour according to God’s commandments, and speaking out when God’s purposes are ignored or violated. This is what it means to believe that God is real; that we do these things and that others could do them too (because God cannot just be ‘true for me’).
In other words, religious belief is an inextricable part of religious practice and a way of life. It is a perspective for interpreting and navigating the whole world of our experience. What this actually means to someone is shown by how they practise it, which can be very different, even for people who use the same words.
There are plenty of people who claim to believe in God who are petty, superficial and hard-hearted (and some who are much worse). A person who uses the idea of God to persecute others has a different belief from someone who practises compassion and justice, even if the religious words they use are the same. Religious words never have and never can logically determine a person’s behaviour or character.
Similarly, someone who describes themself as a nontheist hasn’t yet told me anything about what their belief means, because the meaning of belief is not in our heads, it is in how we act, live and engage with others.
This doesn’t mean that belief is irrelevant. Our beliefs are inseparable from our thinking and feeling, our judgements and aspirations. But I can’t tell from the words that someone else uses what their belief means to them, only by seeing what they do with it in practice.
In a Quaker community, it is the way that people worship together, offer and receive spoken ministry, speak in business meeting, show self-restraint or care for others, take risks and give or withhold their time and commitment, that shows the meaning of their beliefs, whatever words they use to describe them.
Claims such as this often meet the objection - ‘but how can we discern the will of God together if some people don’t believe in God?’ and ‘What do Quakers who don’t believe in God do in a Meeting for Worship?’
If people in a Quaker meeting are listening attentively, showing detachment and self-restraint in promoting their own opinions, and searching for creative new possibilities, they are practising Quaker discernment. The same thing is happening whether they call it ‘seeking the will of God’, ‘listening to the Inward Guide’, ‘being open to what emerges’, ‘finding the wisdom of the group’, or however they make sense of it.
There are Quakers who never use the idea of God at all, or who reject it for various reasons, who experience worship as a source of healing and insight, a space of connection with others and their deepest self, or a wordless openness. Insisting on the use of particular words to describe worship doesn’t add anything to our practise of it.
There are certainly some ways of believing that are disruptive of community and that undermine Quaker practice. Behaviour that is intolerant, censorious and self-righteous is evident in very similar ways in some people who profess both religious and anti-religious beliefs.
The use of different religious language doesn’t undermine Quaker community, but criticism and censorship (including self-censorship) does. We need to be willing to be open with each other, which requires the confidence that the words we use will be acceptable.
We also need to allow ourselves to change, to be open to the possibility of new ways of interpreting the world, instead of being attached to identity categories that put us in permanent competition with others.
The labels ‘theist’ and ‘nontheist’ have not served us well, but we don’t need to carry on using them. Perhaps it’s time to retire these fixed identities and allow ourselves the freedom and flexibility of all sorts of religious belief and language, according to our changing life experiences and unique temperaments.
We could be interested in each others’ different perspectives rather than anxious and quick to take offence. And we should be encouraging each other to share our experiences in the words that are most authentic and meaningful for us.
We should never suggest that someone will give offence by using the word God, or that they are less valid if they don’t use it. And we should stop censoring ourselves by reaching for bland expressions or staying timidly silent when our Quaker communities need honest sharing and spiritual intimacy.
Our worship will be deeper when we minister confidently in words that carry authenticity and conviction. Our communities will be more genuine when we are confident enough to talk about our beliefs. And our spirituality will be broader and more generous, when we are able to listen to others and hear ‘where the words come from’.