I imagine some do not need a life-changing force if they live a life where they are naturally selfless (not selfish or self-seeking), in which they are altruistic, charitable, they do not stash or hoard, they do not covet that of their neighbors, they have never been wronged and have needed healing from wrong doings, they do not transgress their neighbors, they are calm, patient, kind, loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, good, faithful, gentle, and practice self-control. There are people who are like this. I'm not one of them.
I'm not speaking about or to these people. I'm speaking about the rest of us. Those whose hurts, habits, addictions, attachments and hang-ups occupy a good part of our thoughts and drive our actions. Having been part of Pagans in Recovery, a 12-step program for Pagans or people who may practice magic, worship gods or goddesses, venerate or worship their ancestors, etc., even they have step 3 which is moving our will our lives toward that Divine presence. PIR is inclusive of all attachments: (sex, alcohol, co-dependency, adult children of alcoholics, drugs, food and more). I was also a part of Celebrate Recovery, and Evangelical Christian recovery program, and they emphasize making a decision to turn our lives and our wills over to the care of God. "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship." Romans 12:1 Whether pagan or Christian, the understanding is the same: yield/seek unity with Higher Power.
The ancient Quaker teaching of turning ourselves over to the Light, submitting to it, minding it, walking in it, standing still in it is not lost on me. Indeed, my entire life I've felt the pull of Spirit, regardless of what name I call it. I can hear my ancestors telling me to mind the Light. I've had charismatic experiences of the Divine where I was comforted or instructed. And, although I didn't know it as the Light when I was a young child, since my childhood I've had a Still Small Voice which has guided me. That voice is infallible, though my hearing of it is fallible. The reason I know that voice should be trusted, but rarely did I, is because I usually did the opposite of what the voice told me, typically regretting my willfulness. Sometimes the questions were small: should I go left or right? Go out with friends or do something else? Sometimes the guidance was big: to avoid or abstain from something, to do something I didn't want to do. Sometimes the voice was quiet. Other times the voice was so loud I could feel it in my body. I can't tell you why I have such a rebellious, untrusting spirit when it comes to that voice. I could tell you it's from not trusting friends and family when I was younger. I had a sponsor once tell me our concepts of God are often based on our experience with a parent, particularly our fathers. Growing up gay, I had a series of events that led me to not trust other Christians, my family or friends with that part of me, believing they would never accept me as I am, loathing and disapproving of who I was. If I can't trust those around me, how then could I learn to trust the Father?
I'm not gonna lie. At various points in my life I was living a life so out of keeping with Friends principles of simplicity and moderation, I eventually prayed for God to force my hand. Whether it was God or consequences to my own actions, I found myself in 12 step programs, which, as it turned out, focused on turning our wills and our lives over to the care of God. Even then, I wouldn't do it, and the consequences mounted. Relationships both personal and professional were affected. I was no longer considered reliable. The double life I had been living crumbled. All because I refused to submit to that Voice which would have kept me out of all of that. People who once admired me, pitied me.
The good news is that Voice is with us always. It is that of God within us. It is a measure of that radically loving spirit which guides us to live justly and peaceably. It is the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, the Deeper Wisdom, or, for those who don't believe in that, the Higher Self. Quakers and pagans alike are not of one mind on what it is, only that It Is. Some believe it has many faces, manifestations and names, others believe it is Unity, a single Oneness, the I am (God, Allah, etc). Quakers traditionally believe it is the Risen Christ in all people. My experience in twelve step programs is that while the Outward aspect of faith doesn't make a difference, people of all understandings must find a Power greater than themselves to which they must submit or find unity with in order to have that psychic experience promised in the by the founders of Alcholics Anonymous. Whether Buddhist, Christian, pagan, Muslim, Jewish or secular, each person who has overcome their hurts, habits, or hang ups, each person who no longer operates out of the mentality that drove them to drink, drug, over eat, act out sexually, each of those people found a Power with which they sought unity. And to find unity with their higher power(s), they ultimately had to submit. They chose a way that they may not otherwise have chosen, which allowed them the space to examine their anger, resentments and fears which then led them to seek to have their negative character traits removed or transformed. This was followed by a round of making amends, and then a life of self-examination and sharing of how and what they overcame (kind of like early Quaker spirituality). The name of that Power was important to them, perhaps, but evidence shows the Name didn't save. I know this contradicts Christian understanding that there is power in the name of Jesus (and there is -- another blog post for another time), but it's a relationship with the Power that results in renewal and regeneration.
I remember a woman sharing at a recovery meeting that if we are "struggling" it's because we aren't "submitting." Even today I struggle to submit, though one day at a time, I've put enough time together that my inner life is radically different than it was when I was "out there." Now the struggles are more about how to spend my time and with whom to spend it, how to be faithful and be of service in my religious society.
Perhaps those who don't see the need or desire to turn their wills and their lives over to God as they understand God, it's because their lives are manageable enough that the consequences of their behaviors and interactions with others aren't enough to force a desire to change. Perhaps they are the Lucky Few who live with a high degree of integrity, altruism and compassion. I don't know about these people. I can only speak for myself: I was brought to my proverbial knees. I got sick and tired of being sick and tired. The man who had served on executive boards, who led both church, career and neighborhood, who had done enough face work with state politicians that they knew me by face, ultimately lived a life surrounded by gangs, violence, theft, or threats thereof. I had submitted, but not to Love.
One of the reasons I love Jesus and his ministry so much was that he was the Prophet of Love. A teacher who guided his fellow Jews into the spirit of the Torah, not the callous following of the letter of the Law. His ministry was so profound, so counter-cultural, so subversive to Empire, that it continues to speak to me and challenge me to one degree or another. The thing that tripped me up was 1) I didn't believe as a gay man I could fully inherit the Kingdom no matter what anyone told me and 2) Jesus may say his burden is light, but I was so caught up in sin (in selfish, self-seeking behaviors) that what Jesus asked me to do seemed distasteful, boring, and sometimes counter-intuitive. I was an archer who could not see the target clearly, so I often missed it. I can't say I never submitted to God, but truthfully it was not the norm. Still, this message of love and acceptance, of being able to trust God continued to bounce around in my skull, not leaving me alone. Unfortunately, love is not the emphasis of most of the so-called Christians that are and were around me, and I allowed my pent up anger and resentment against so-called Believers drive a wedge between me and the Light.
I find that my moods actually change depending on whether I am acting out of my own will, one that is informed or driven by my hurts, habits and hang-ups, or whether I am acting out of the Spirit. I find that I become contrary, grumpy and moody when I am not living in keeping with the spirit. When I yield to what the Light would have me do, life is more peaceful and when there are storms around me, I can weather them knowing that the Ocean of Light is over the Ocean of Darkness. I am reminded that when in Darkness not to pay attention to that which would tempt me, because if I wait long enough, Light will rise out of it and lead me. I know this experientially. One would think that knowing this I would choose to submit consistently. In 12 steps we talk about progress over perfection. The more I submit, the more I fit. The more I yield, the better I fit into the stream of life. The more I turn myself over, the more I'm facing the path forward rather than facing the past, the pain, the problems.
But then there is the Quaker doctrine of perfection. This is not the perfection mentioned in the 12 step saying above, but a progressive perfection. One of measure. Each of us has a measure of that radically loving spirit that guides us. As we live up to the Light given, more is given to us. As we live up to the measure given to us, we are perfect per Scripture. The perfection of scripture doesn't mean we are sinless, but that we aren't driven by sin. To put it this way, when we live up to the Light that we have, we no longer live in the sin that separated us from the Truth. However, that doesn't mean we don't sin. It simply means that our state of mind and spirit has changed. As more Light is given to us, we see other areas in our lives, our character defects as described in 12 steps, the sin of Scripture. However, the Good News is that the Light also shows us the choices we should make to no longer be beholden to that sin. And we are therefore perfect. And then we get more Light. And it continues until we die. Put in recovery terms, the anger, resentment, fears, hurts, hang-ups no longer drive us to seek solutions that are harmful to ourselves or others.
All that is well and good, but I'm nowhere near there. But I do hear the voice of the Spirit saying "Listen to me!" "Follow me." I cannot deny it. This is not a submission to a teaching (because teachings only point to the Life). This is not submission to an organization either, though in when weak sometimes institutions can help. This is a submission to a direct relationship with the Light.
There is another part of submission to the Spirit that hasn't been lost on me, that I'm learning: Humility. One of the things I have come to realize is something that many others before me have come to accept too: I am not the giant of my dreams or the dwarf of my fears. I admittedly thought myself superior when in fact I was driven by an inferiority complex. As my ex recently put it to me: you're a lot more humble now than you used to be. I had to accept that my life was not the life I wanted, let alone the life that I felt led to live. There is an important note here: I've often been haunted by the life I feel I'm supposed to lead based on Christian teachings. I should live a certain way because that's what the Bible or Christians teach. Early Quakers saw things in reverse: they didn't believe the Scriptures were true because they were the scriptures, they believed the scriptures were true because they saw their lives in them, the scriptures confirmed their leadings. This belief that I'm supposed to behave in a certain way and behaving contrarily only deepened my low self-image and made me feel inferior to those who lived the "right way." But once I accepted that my life had become unmanageable and that I had become powerless over certain behaviors I was able to start searching for the Power that could restore me to sanity. Once I came to believe there was such a power, then I began, finally, after decades of trying and failing, to turn my will and my life over to the care of a god of my understanding. Now I'm examining my own side of the street in regards to my anger, resentments and fears. I'm learning to accept my part in things. I've made amends to some people except when to do so would cause harm. I have more to make. I'm keenly aware of my of my defects of character. I plan on doing some Shadow Work with my therapist in order to understand them and allow the light to shine from these darkness within me. While I'm tempted to point out what's wrong with the other side of the street, my focus is to be on my own unless someone comes on to mine.
There is another aspect of humility: I can't do this alone. Being faithful requires accountability and responsibility. Community helps me do this. I hear people say "I don't need church to believe in God." Well, of course not. It's not about belief. It's about learning to love when it's difficult, about integrity, about doing what I said I'm going to do, being there for others, service, about learning from different perspectives, and learning and accepting my gifts and my limits. I don't know about you, but I can feed myself big bowls of bull crap without people to keep me honest. I will tell myself what I want to hear, tell my self that I can't do what I can do, or can do what I can't. I will rationalize away. I will react and regret it. Being in community with others helps me find my right place and my right size.
This all seems a bit overwhelming as I read back over what I've written. Indeed, without my Higher Power, the Light, without my Quaker meeting, I couldn't do this work. I know I would sink back into self-seeking and selfish behaviors. I would lose my sense of gratitude. I would regress. I "just" have to live up to the Light that I have. And submit.
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