Many years ago I read Kenneth Leech's excellent book Soul Friend. During this fellowship year when I've been researching the relationship between evangelism and the Friends testimonies, I rediscovered Kenneth Leech in the form of his book, The Eye of the Storm: Spiritual Resources for the Pursuit of Justice. As a survey of Christian thinking in relation to social justice, it is a bit disappointing. Too often it comes across as a catalog of Christian experiments in progressive politics. In particular, I squirmed when he went into Christianity and feminism. Rather than his ultra-cautious and fastidious approach as a male commenting on women's views of Christianity, it would have been better (I think) to invite a woman collaborator to write that section.
However, having gotten that off my chest, I can say that when Kenneth Leech talks about spirituality and doctrine and discipleship in relation to social justice, he is absolutely superb, very inspiring. I especially love the clear humanity in the tone of his writing, a tone that has remained consistent over the years. These quotes are chosen to whet your appetite ....
The Eye of the Storm: Spiritual Resources for the Pursuit of Justice, Kenneth Leech. London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1992.
14 ... A correspondent to the Church Times wrote, "Political churchmen have been the bane of our church.... The political spirit is always fatal to spirituality."
87-88 In spite of the massive and growing industry of books about liberation theology, there remains a large area of ignorance, confusion and misrepresentation of this movement. Some writers see it as a movement which replaces spirituality by political action, in spite of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary - for rarely can there have been a theological movement which is so clearly and so deeply rooted in spiritual experience. Many continue to see it as nothing more than Marxism in theological dress, although it has been shown that the contribution of Marxist theory to most work within the liberation theology tradition is very slight. WSe are in fact dealing with a theological tradition which takes its starting-point from the experience of oppression, which is rooted in the sharing of the life of very poor people, and which exists in an atmosphere of great physical danger; a tradition which seeks to break with the narrow academic captivity of theological work, which is partisan in its understanding of solidarity, and which seeks to unte contemplation and political struggle; a tradition which has been most marked since its early years by its concern for the deepening of spiritual life.
98 In a book published in 1989 [Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony], Hauerwas claims that Christianity is 'mostly a matter of politics'. However he stresses that the Church is 'a countercultural phenomenon, a new polis'. Rejecting the approach of Jerry Falwell, whom he sees as a modern equivalent of Reinhold Niebuhr, and oother exponents of 'public religion', he argues that 'the political task of Christians is to be the Church rather than to transform the world.'
137 A major part of the Church's political task is to subject political claims to the most rigorous scrutiny. The unmasking and exposure of illusion and falsehood is central to prophetic political work, and here it is important that intellectuals, theologians an other academics, should be brought into close practical collaboration with grass roots Christian activists.
139 Christian engagement in politics must be rooted in an honest facing of current reality with all its gloom and hopelessness, yet nourished by the firm belief in the resurrection and in Christ's victory over all unjust powers. That Christ is risen, and has conquered not only death but the death-dealing world of political oppression, must be the driving hope of the Christian in the march from Babylon to the New Jerusalem.
194-196 I have come to see, as an activist, the central place of silence in my life and in the lives of all who would work for peace and justice at a more than surface level. There is a sense in which silent waiting on God is the heart of prayer, a simple abiding in emptiness, weakness and attention, a recognition of the fact that it is the Spirit who prays within us in inarticulate groanings (Romans 8:26). For Jesus, the very early dawn was a key time for prayer (Mark 1:35) and so it has been for me and for many others for whom the day becomes busier as it progresses. I would not recommend this time of prayer as a rule for everyone, and it is important that we do not become slaves of time. Our prayer rhythms and patterns need to be very flexible. But there is something very special about the early morning, when in many places there is physical stillness and a reduction of external activity, which can be conducive to the prayer of attention. To spend an hour in waiting on God in the early stillness is a valuable preparation for the hectic and often frenzied activity of the day.
It is equally important, however, that the inner stillness which comes from the practice of silent attention to God is allowed to spill over into the activity itself, so that it is not all tense and in danger of becoming manic. St Anthony, the first Christian hermit, advised: 'If we push ourselves beyond measure, we will break: it is right for us from time to time to relax our efforts'. This remains sound advice, for there is a real danger of 'burn-out', that affliction which leads many activist Christians to the point of collapse and subsequent withdrawal from the active life. But burn-out is not simply a problem about personal survival, or personal health: it has spin-offs on the community who are the recipients often the victims, of social action or pastoral care. The hyperactive person, whether community worker or pastor, who has not given time for inner stillness (hesychia) will soon communicate to others nothing more than his or her inner tiredness and exhaustion of spirit - not a very kind thing to do to people who have enough problems of their own.
Silence is an integral part of ministry and of effective Christian action. In silence we open ourselves up to the activity of God and to the movements of history. If it is important to listen to the voice of God, to try to discern and distinguish the voice of God amidst the conflicting voices around and within us, it is also important to listen to the voices of the world, particularly the hidden, neglected voices. It is important to listen carefully to the language of silence, the silence of crushed, broken, battered people. A contemplative, reflective approach is a necessary part of any sustained social action, and without that base it is bound to become superficial and to lack both depth and staying power. Silence helps to create stillness and the ability to hear. It also creates a climate of discernment and scrutiny, of persistent interrogation, of inner struggle to discern the signs.
This page is moderated by Johan Maurer as part of the "Evangelism and the Friends Testimonies" project, supported during the academic year 2003-04 by the Ferguson Quaker Fellowship program of Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre. Johan has a minute of service from Reedwood Friends Church.
