Sub Ratione Dei

God's Just Vengeance

Timothy Gorringe, God's Just Vengeance: Crime, Violence and the Rhetoric of Salvation, Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Much has been said recently of theologies of the atonement of Christianity's relationship to violence and the so called myth of redemptive violence (Wink); in God's Just Vengeance Gorringe offers a compelling and comprehensive study on a related theme - theologies of atonement and their penal consequences. At one level this book can be read as a broad-stroke history history of the Christian theology of atonement, although Abelard posed significant challenges it is a history that has been overwhelmingly Anselmian in its emphasis on the need for satisfaction. And as a history abstracted from the larger purposes Gorringe brings to the book the history is still a useful one. God's Just Vengeance is no simple history of doctrine, however. Where it excels is in Gorringe's argument that understandings of atonement and the state's penal policy often go hand in hand. In a contextual history of doctrine Gorringe shows how criminal justice in England was once - in line Anselm's theory - restitutionary whereas, with the later development of Calvin and Wesley (an odd pairing to be sure) there was a more directly penal direction. This remained the case until the end of the nineteenth century with the rise of rehabilitive, and later, restorationist arguments. As well as this historical argument while acknowledging the biblical canon can be read as supporting satisfaction theory Gorringe makes the argument that it does not necessarily have to be reading in this way, in fact, he argues that oftentimes such a reading while conditioned from centuries of church teaching is the least favourable interpretation. This transmitted error has had profound consequences for the Church. For example, referring to Luther's understanding of the State being ordained by God Gorringe can write that

The judicial arm of the state, exercised above all in capital punishment, was understood, quite explicitly by Luther, as the exercise of God's rule. Thus a story which was a unique protest against judicial cruelty came to be a validation of it. The community which was supposed not to be conformed to the world now underwrote its repressive practice (p.81).

The cross, which in Girardian terms subverts the scapegoating mechanism by the voluntary submission of Jesus to the powers that be to initiate an end to sacrifice, becomes the exact reverse - it is used to support support capital punishment and a retributive criminal justice system. Against such interpretations Gorringe, who extensively relies on Girard and Foucault and Ignatieff in particular offers a more Abelardian argument to a theology of atonement and, in turn, a penal policy that is founded on reconciliation and forgiveness. Gorringe's work is not the last word on the subject; for one, the more positive argument is not complete and there is limited positive ecclesiological comment; for all of its positives there is an unresolved question pervading Gorringe's argument concerning the relationship of church to society. Nonetheless, this is a superb piece of contextual theology and highly recommended both for those interested in the history of penal policy and its social implications and in atonement theology.

 

The Evangelical Universalist Revealed

A little over two years ago I reviewed the anonymously written book The Evangelical Universalist. Well, the author is anonymous no more.

Married to the Mafia: Why Religulous Works

I have mixed feelings about Bill Maher's Religulous. There is, I think, something of a tension running throughout Maher's documentary. In an opening scene set in a Trucker's chapel and he gives some pretty standard questions. When challenged he responds that he has one agenda: doubt. His gospel, Maher explains, is the gospel of "I don't know".

However, before long the critical agnosticism morphs into acerbic incredulity at all religious belief. Religion is quickly portrayed as being synonymous with talking snakes and humans having dinosaurs as their next door neighbours. Even when Maher does get more reasonable interviewees such as Francis Collins (who has been in the news for other reasons recently) it appears that we do not have a interview so much as an hack job, the Catholic Herald has more on this angle of Maher's effort. In other words, the gospel of I don't know like so many of the interviews seems to have been left on the cutting room floor. In it's place one is left with an apologetic rant. And, Maher does this well with a great deal of humour. 

Maher picks his targets well, we have the second coming of Jesus (apparently), the creation museum detailing the science behind human-dinosaur cohabitation and talking snakes, and ex-gay ministries etc. As James Mcgrath has noted some of the argument is as incredulous as his subjects.  However, on reflection I find myself more ambivalent regarding the film.

Like many Christians on viewing the film I had the same reaction to many. This is nothing but a parody of the faith of millions, it does not reflect the the actual beliefs of many, it is a straw man critique. In this sense Matthew's comment reflected my belief:

It’s because they make all of these arguments that defeat what they perceive religion and the case for God to be.  Meanwhile, anybody who has studied philosophy or theology in the slightest sits back, listens, and at the end are left thinking…so what?  They never even touch the real questions.  They just set up these juvenile straw men and then convincingly knock them down in front of their own cameras.  Very impressive.  All the while they reveal their total misunderstanding of the theists case.

Matthew continues by linking to one catholic priest's critique of Religulous which I included below: 

In terms of broad brush-stokes he is obviously right, the religion of Religulous is not the same as the religion of so many of Christianity's adherents. It is not a big stretch on Fr Barron's epistemology to say that faith is in a symbiotic relationship to doubt - the certainty against which Maher takes aim is not intrinsic to faith. But the difficulty is while all this is true it does not excuse the fact that for many of those interviewed in the film the mocking description of their faith Maher puts to the audience was an accurate description of their belief and I don't think one would have to search too hard to find similar views nearby.

And this is where I am somewhat more sympathetic to Maher's presentation. While the dominant motif of Religulous is an all-round anti-religious piss-take the minor and more humble facet which I alluded to earlier does re-appear at the end. It is here I think that Religulous does raise a valid point.

Here's Maher's closing sequence:

Watch Religulous - Ending Montage in Activism & Non-Profit  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

It is easy to criticise Maher's characterisation of faith as anti-rational as "making a virtue out of not thinking" but there is still an argument to be had. In particular I thinking of Maher's characterisation of moderate religious people as being "mafia wives" (c. 4m 15s onwards) . Those who through acquiescence allow the terror in the name of God to perpetuate.

Sam Harris in his illiberal diatribe on religion argues in a similar vein:

Of course, people of faith fall on a continuum: some draw solace and inspiration from a specific spiritual tradition, and yet remain fully committed to tolerance and diversity [contrary, one may add, to Harris' position], while others would burn  the earth to cinders if it would put an end to heresy. There are, in other words, religious moderates and religious extremists, and their various passions and projects should not be confused. One of the central themes of this book, however, is that religious moderates are themselves the bearers of a terrible dogma: they imagine that the path to peace will be paved once each of us has learned to respect the unjustified beliefs of others. (The End of Faith, 14-15).

Harris goes on to suggest that the religious moderate is intellectually dishonest and Maher, although not going so far argues in a similar fashion. They're wrong for it suggest that traditionally fundamentalism is the norm from which moderates are rebelling. But, as I think Dan itimated a few days ago, there is a line at which boundaries of identity are crossed. So, here's the question: unlike Maher analogy I don't think we should be resigning in disgust but perhaps we should be asking some other to leave?

Perhaps, notwithstanding the crass manipulation of sources, the first responce to Religulous should not be defence but acknowleding maher may have a point.

Boom and Bust

Simon Lee, Boom and Bust: The Politics & Legacy of Gordon Brown, Oneworld, (2009).

In this book Simon Lee offers a critical survey of Gordon Brown's political history and philosophy and, in so doing, also provides a solid critical analysis of third-way politics or, as Mouffe may call it, anti-politcs.

Although this third-way politics has often be called Blairite, Lee has shown how central Brown has been in its development and implementation, even through the Blair years. The focus of this influence is, unsurprisingly enough, economics. From his early days as a Phd student to his more recent neo-liberalism Lee has shown with careful research the continuities in Brown's thought which, interestingly, seem to focus on the philosophy of Adam Smith.

Brown has been experiencing a charisma crisis with few seeming to know what he stands for. Boom and Bust is a very good introduction to Gordon Brown that places his early left rhetoric in a direct line of continuity with his contemporary politics and also an expose into just how much power Brown held over Blair's tenure as Prime Minister. A very informative and carefully researched book.   

Fields White Unto Harvest: Charles F Parham and the Missionary Origins of Pentecostalism

Fields White Unto Harvest: Charles F Parham and the Missionary Origins of Pentecostalism by James R Goff Jr. University of Arkansas Press, (1988). ISBN: 1557280266.

Charles Parham, along with William Seymour, is the individual most commonly ascribed as being the founder of Pentecostalism. In particular it was at his independent Bible School in Topeka that the link between Holy Spirit baptism and the evidential gift of tongues was first prescriptively formulated. However, in part part because of Parham's links with the Ku Klux Klan and persistent umour and scandal arising from the discontinued trial against Parham for sodomy Parham's role has been diminished. Goff's study, which arises from his doctoral study, has two main characteristics. The main aim of Goff's study is to offer a biography of Charles Parham which ranges from his childhood through to his time a lay minister in the Methodist tradition and the influence of Holiness thought on his ministry through to the nascent Apostolic Faith movement (of which Asuza Street was a local branch) and his break with Seymour and his continuing insistence on the doctrine of Xenoglossa (the gift of tongues were actual foreign languages to enable recipients communicte the faith in the language of their listeners) in spite of widespread Pentecostal disavowal of this belief. The second purpose is to argue against the then new proposal of Doudlas J Nelson's Phd thesis at Birmingham University (1981) claiming Seymour as the founder of Pentecostalism. In particular Goff claims that (p 11)

Parham, more than Seymour, must be regarded the founder of the Pentecostal movement. It was Parham who first formulated the theological definition of Pentecostalism by linking tongues with the Holy Spirit baptism. Neither Parham nor contemporary Pentecostals would declare tongues the “only” evidence of reception of the Pentecostal blessing. Rather it served as the “initial” evidence. Despite the semantics, the phenomenon was crucial. As the initial evidence, Glossolalia becomes the sine qua non of the experience and its importance is hard to overestimate.

This emphasis on the priority of glossolalia for Pentecostal identity was also tied in with a belief that the emerging Pentecostal sympton of a latter day end-time revival in which the Bride of Christ (the 'true' Church) was making herself ready for Christ's return by attempting to fulfil the Great Commission of Matthew 28 and Mark 16. It is for this reason that Goff argues that Pentecostalism is necessarily tied to doctrine of evidential tongues as a sign of Spirit Baptism and hence power for missionary service. This emphasis, rather than the radical egalitarianism of Asuza Street, is what is crucial for Pentecostal Identity, hence Goff's designation of Parham as Pentecostalism's 'Projector'. I disagree with Goff's argument, one of the main reasons for this is that it seems clear that the theology and function of the evidential tongues seems to have altered in the experience of Asuza street and the painful experience of returning missionaries (such as A G Garr) who discovered that their gift did not, contrary to expectation, supernaturally enable them to preach in the local idioms. Nontheless, Goff's book is a well argued and useful resource on the life of one of Pentecostalism's pioneers.

 

Other Resources An article by Gary McGee offering an exposition of Parham's Theology of Tongues.

The Christian Gene

A great clip with a guest spot for Robert Kilroy Silk it seems ...

HT Missives from Marx

Witchcraft, Thealogy (and Pentecostalism)

Yesterday I read Naomi Goldenberg's article in Embodying Feminist Liberation Theology, "Witches and Words" in which she argues for the relevance of witchcraft, particularly the goddess (thealogy) for contemporary feminist theology. Goldenberg (pictured - faculty profile here) begins by quoting Xaviere Gauthier:

Why witches? Because witches sing. Can I hear this singing? It is the sound of another voice. They tried to make us believe that women did not know how to speak or write; that they were stutterers or mutes. That is because they tried to make women speak straightforwardly, logically, geometrically, in strict conformity. In reality, they croon lullabies, they gasp, they babble, they shout, they sigh. They are silent and even their silence can be heard.

Goldenberg, who in the article identifies herself as an "inveterate atheist" and, as such, as one who cannot "be a witch in an orthodox sense since [she] can not entertain belief in any deity whatever qualities of gender or limitations are imputed to her, it or him" (204-205). Goldenberg played a part in bringing to the AAR witches Z Budapest and Starhawk and suggesting that feminist theologians would do well to listen to these voices in their own work (but more on that later in the post).

Witchcraft and Pentecostalism

What first interested me was Goldenberg's characterisation of the reason for witchcraft's growing appeal as (Goldenberg is citing Sian Lee Macdonald Raid) one  that encourages "religious innovations that permit individuals to speak about an 'unmediated connection with the divine' (206). In greater depth Goldenberg explicates the attraction of the feminine of witchcraft and its (somewhat parasitic) relationship to institutional religion (I apologise for the length of this quote):

Discursive, institutionalized systems connected to organized religions, governments, universities, and armies are built around imagery that idealizes male adulthood such as lines of paternal descent, male ritual gatherings and processions, and phallic attributes of power. Witches embody other psychological and social forces. The word witch can conjure female carnality, deep imaginings that border on madness, the playfulness and vulnerability of infancy and old age, the perpetual birth and decay of the natural world. Witches thus are well-positioned to make institutions nervous by calling attention to that which a dominant patriarchal order must occlude. Mention of witches' wails and incantations, the mutterings of crones, their rhymes, their prophecies, their so-called gibberish summons up specters and visions of suppressed portions of minds, histories and desires. Ancient grievances and exclusions are referenced in these forms of language as are human lights and longings. Because witchy words can touch us deeply, they have the power to disrupt ordinary speech and thus disturb business as usual. They wield creative leverage and make space for something new to happen - something other than the routinized performance of patriarchal grandiosity (205, emphasis added).

While I am certain it was the last thing on Goldenberg's mind in writing the above what strikes me about Goldenberg's characterisation is its similarity with what Walter Hollenweger and Harvey Cox have observed concerning pentecostalism's reception. Like the witches in Gauthier's imagination Pentecostalism was birthed in subversion.  In the quotation with which I started this post Gauthier decribes the witches voice as a different voice, silent by the dominant (patriarchal) conventions but revolutionary once one learns how to listen in a different key. This, of course, was the reaction of some of the first witnesses to Azusa Street at the turn of the twentieth century, and interestingly, the tongues speech reporters for the LA Times heard were women, or to put it into the language of Gauthier, descendants of the witches. This equation between witchcraft's and pentecostalism's empowering discourse  is not, I think, purely speculative. In an article later in the same volume Ruth Mantin suggests that Goddess-talk (thealogy), of which I assume witchcraft is one instantiation, be understood as heteroglossia. Heteroglossia is a term first coined by the literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin to refer to the "multiplicity of languages within the apparent unity of any national language" (source). This seems related to what James Smith has identified as glossolalia's "linguistic surrealism" when in speaking in tongues the speaker engages in "the multifaceted, embodied, communal, and performative elements of language" (101). Like Gauthier's characterisation of witchcraft as subversive act so tongues is a language of resistance. Where y, once tongues was an empowering discourse it has now, for Smith, become a hindrance. The decreased prominence of tongues demonstrates Pentecostalism's coming to terms with capitalism's hegemony:

I would venture a hypothesis which is admittedly anecdotal: as Pentecostal denominations (such as the Assemblies of God in the USA) climb the ladder of social class (John Ashcroft, former Attorney General in the USA is an A/G member), the practice of tongues-speech in congregational worship context decreases. This, I would suggest, is precisely because such a ’strange’ practice does not conform to the rationality (reality principle) of capitalist logic; and insofar as such upwardly mobile congregations are seeking to advance by capitalist logic, they eschew the language of resistance (p. 110 n. 76).

Like Smith's commentary on the decline of glossolalia Goldenberg opines that witchy words, words that were once liberative have become commodified and, in so doing, have lost their potency. Approvingly citing Howard Eilberg-Schwartz's observation Goldenberg affirms that today "the witch is no longer an 'other' ... on the contrary, witches are now recognizable and respectable members of our society with whom we share a great many common interests and values". The Craft, suggests Goldenberg, has accordingly resulted in a "domestication of the witch and the routinization of goddess talk" (206). The "so-called gibberish" that was once, sociologically speaking, efficacious in feminine empowerment and identity is no longer Other, and hence of limited use. Notwithstanding the commodification and normalisation of witchy words the Craft remains, for Goldenberg, a potent resource for Feminist theology. Earlier I cited Goldenberg's observation concerning religion, and Christianity in particular that they are "built around imagery that idealizes male adulthood such as lines of paternal descent, male ritual gatherings and processions, and phallic attributes of power". Behind this discussion lies Feminist theology's rejection of traditional dualism, I may have a future post on this soon.

References

Naomi R Goldenberg, Witches and Words, in Beverley Vlack (Ed.), Embodying Feminist Liberation Theologies, T & T Clark, 2004, 203-211; Ruth Mantin, Theaological Reflections on Embodiment, in Beverley Vlack (Ed.), Embodying Feminist Liberation Theologies, T & T Clark, 2004, 212-227.

 

 Mary C Grey, Sacred Longings: Ecofeminst Theology and Globalization, SCM, 2003.

 

 James K A Smith, Tongues as Resistance Discourse, in Mark J Cartledge (Ed.), Speaking in Tongues: Multi-Disciplinary Perpsectives, Paternoster, 2006.

 

Yoder on Yoder

In the conclusion to a much longer piece on the US Supreme Court's decision in 1972 Wisconsin vs Yoder I wrote

In overturning previous precedent Yoder correctly recognised that compulsory school attendance can in fact be a religious issue. However, where Yoder errs is in concentrating on the religious rights of the parents to the complete detriment of the right of the children, and the duty of the Government to facilitate this right, to not believe in the Amish religion. In short, public education gives the student the capacity for self-determination and autonomy in a way that the closely controlled and closed Amish system of education will not allow (p. 32).

The Yoder case concerned the the right of Amish parents of presumably Amish children to withdraw said children from the State mandated post-secondary education. In effect, it argued that the Amish should be exempt from what was mandated for all other students of the same age. I do not think Yoder came to the right conclusion but as I argued in the attached irrespective of the legal reasons I suggested that there are reasons that the Amish themselves should have chosen to pursue education.

In the essay I made a conscious point of avoiding a theological analysis as, for one, the piece was already far too long. In any case, a couple of days ago I stumbled upon a quote of John Howard Yoder's from a still forthcoming book on Christian Education that makes the same argument in theological term in suggesting that the abstentionist line of thinking

fears that if the young person, especially in adolescence, is permitted to become acquainted with the world and its lures, he is sure to be lost. This prediction is, in all its intended realism, a lack of faith and a surrender to determinism. If the Gospel cannot call people out of the world, it is no Gospel. If what we preach to our young people cannot call them out of the world, then we must ask ourselves if what we are preaching is the Gospel. If placing people in a context of choice where it is possible to choose the wrong is unwise, then God himself made the first mistake when he created Adam and the worst mistake when he let people kill his Son. At the bottom of it all, this pessimism means placing oneself fully on the level of the world. It means agreeing with the world that all human development is determined by physical and psychological necessities; agreeing with the world that Christian faith is a matter of behavior patterns and of truths to be passed on; agreeing with the world that there is no miracle of resurrection, no miracle of faith, no Holy Spirit.

Although Yoder is not to my knowledge directly discussing the Yoder case he is absolutely right (in the comments to Halden's post there's a much longer excerpt of the same essay that's worth checking out).

Witchfinders: A Seventeenth Century English Tragedy

Malcolm Gaskill, Witchfinders: A Seventeenth Century English Tragedy, John Murray, (2005).

Essex girls have something of a undeserved reputation in the UK, Malcolm Gaskill's Witchfinders shows that is was ever thus. Gaskill's book follows the "witchfinding" activities of Matthew Hopkins (posthumously developing a mythic status as the Witchfinder General) John Stearne in the 1640s. Reading this book reminded by a little of Keith Thomas' wonderful Religion and the Decline of Magic; there is a considerable overlap between the two's subject matter but also the tangential approach Gaskill often takes.

As a narrative history of the seventeeth century English - and specifically Southern English Witch hunts Gaskill's account is adequate. That may sound a little harsh, but I don't mean it to. The historical record of Hopkins and Stearne is scant and in the face mythic representations of Hopkins Gaskill's deconstruction of the myth is valuable. For example, in the repeated analyses of local witch-hunts Gaskill shows that Hopkins and Stearne were not two men on a single minded mission to rid England of her witches irrespective of what others thought. Instead, the witchfinders and the English population had something more of a symbiotic relationship. Yes, they may have put the subject of witches on the agenda but it was the local populations that in the majority of cases initiated the prosecutions and invited either Stearne or Hopkins (they usually worked separately) to uncover the maleficient women (or in some cases men, including, interestingly, clergymen).

However, Witchfinders really is just a narrative history - although clearly the result of careful research, it lacks an analytical edge. Although one can infer from the text there is very little on the wider historical context which (surely) was a key part in why the witch hunts escalated as they did. Gaskill implies that with the civil war in full swing and hence for the religiously minded already being a time of great upheaval there was, in a way analogous to the twentieth century's world wars an economic hole to be plugged caused by the paucity of men in local economies given their involvement in the war elsewhere. It makes some sort of sense to imagine that some may have resented the new-found social prominence and power some women had, even if their lives were mired in poverty simultaneously. But, as I say, that sort of analysis is in the main lacking. Surprisingly, as a study of the societal attitude to and widespread accusations of witchcraft Gaskill makes little reference to either the European inquisition that predated it or the American one for followed (Salem). In terms of direct causal relationships perhaps Gaskill is right to do so but surely a more thorough analysis would be beneficial sociologically and historically. As it is this is a good biography of two "Witchfinder Generals" in that in humanises them and places the blame equally on their and the fears and prejudices of local communities but as a more general account of a community or nation succumbing to fear and accusation I hoped for more.

 

Elsewhere on the web Review of book by the Guardian. Author's website and faculty page. Interview with Gaskill on Subject matter. My review of another book on witchcraft, this time the European inquisition.

Primitivism, Radicalism, and the Lamb's War

T L Underwood, Primitivism, Radicalism, and the Lamb's War: The Baptist-Quaker Conflict in Seventeenth-Century England (Oxford Studies in Historical Theology), Oxford University Press, 1997.

While it is true that I am a sometime attender of the URC church (a denomination formed as a result of a Presbyterian-Congregational Merger) or Methodist & CofE churches when asked by those informed where my affiliation lies I respond that I am best described as a liberal baptist which, by liberal standards is not that liberal at all!

One of the questions that I have often asked is why given the fact that both the Quakers and Baptists were birthed at the same time they evolved so differently? Whereas Quakers (my only experience is UK Quakerism) have gone on an extremely liberal course Baptists have by and large remained within the traditionalist camp, both creedally and sociologically.

Although Primitivism, Radicalism, and the Lamb's War does not set out to answer this question it does pose some clues. Quakers, Baptists and hangers-on (aka me) interested in their origins and the social milieu within these movements emerged will find this is an excellent resource. In an age where ecumenism is queen  the seventeenth century was an age where theological controversy was of a higher profile. The conflict between Baptists and Quakers was more pronounced because the contest was not just, to put it colloquially, just a pissing contest. The seventeenth century theological debates were important in demarcating Baptist from Quaker. Like the contemporaneous Baptist relationship with Anabaptism ("they've gone and taken a good idea to far, they may be seditious but we're not") part of the friction no doubt lays in reaffirming to the congrationalists and separatists to their right that Baptists were creed-orthodox and not to be confused with their radical interlocutors. But one detects in Underwood's survey another reason more close to home: in a time where confessional boundaries were in flux these early Baptist and Quaker religionists were eager to figure out who was in, and who was out. There was a lot of what, more recently has been called in the evangelical world "sheep-stealing", members jumping ship to join the other crowd.

It is, I think, in this context that one should read Underwood's work, it is an attempt to identify the core interpretive strategies of the two groups. And, in his survey of the numerous points of contention such as the theologies of the Church, Scripture, Christology, Sacraments (Ordinances), and revelation Underwood does an excellent and fair survey of these core points of difference, together with the inevitable ambiguities. As a survey of (General) Baptist and particularly Quaker theology on these points this is an excellent read. Although I am not up to speed on Baptist or Quaker historiography I would not be surprised if Primitivism, Radicalism, and the Lamb's War were not also a leading text in the field.

However, the book is not just an "Introduction to ... " type of work, but instead by focusing on Quaker and Baptist theologies offers a contribution to wider theology and historical understanding. Here the reference to primitivism and apocalypse (Lamb's War) in the title become significant.  It is here also that Underwood comes closest to answering my initial question: why the differing evolutionary trajectories. As is so often the case it all comes down to hermeneutics; in this case the attempt to rediscover and emulate the faith of the early church or, arguably in the case of the Quakers, to emulate the faith of the early followers of Christ before the Church set in.

Surprisingly, Underwood suggests that Quakers even more than Baptists were in continuity with early Christianity; in fact, he goes so far as to say that "early Friends in the height of their enthusiasm appear to have believed they were the New Testament church. In order to make theological sense necessitated a revision of dominant modes of understanding. In explaining this Change Underwood writes

[t]o experience Christ immediately as the earliest Christians had, however, required an internalization and spiritualization by Quakers of outward historical events. This in turn affected their perception of primitive Christianity - a vision that stressed immediate, inward, and spiritual qualities. Up to the point of ascension, Quakers did not deny that the events of Christ's life had occurred outwardly, although they strongly emphasized his divine nature to the neglect of his humanity and they normally spoke of his crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection as occurring within them with the soteriological results.  ... Friends believed that primitive Christians had Christ as their authority since the New Testament had not yet been written, and that these earliest Christians experienced their own spiritual resurrection and judgement, witnessed the beginning of the Lamb's War, practiced silence as well as quaking in worship, allowed the preaching of women, and advocated the disuse of outward baptism and the Lord's Supper (p. 4-5).

This primitivist hermeneutic is I think helpful for understanding Quaker/Baptist differences; in large part the Baptist-Quaker debates Underwood profiles show interlocutors talking past each other. As many readers will be aware I am sympathetic to the believers church model (of whom Baptists will be one family member) and, it is this stream of Christianity that has so prioritised the apostolic witness. Certainly the Quakers offered a highly selective reading of primitive Christianity but, perhaps, the same is true of of all others to aspire to recreating the primitive church.

Related Post: Robin Parry reviews Carole Spencer's Holiness: The Soul of Quakerism, a book I eventually mean to read.