George Fox, founder of Quakerism, wrote in his journal for the year 1647 of a transforming revelation when he was at a very low ebb, “when my hopes in all men were gone and there was nothing outwardly to help me”. He wrote: “Then, oh then I heard a voice which said, there is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to your condition, and when I heard it my heart did leap for joy.”

God broke in and showed him what became the foundation insight for Quakers worldwide, that of direct inward encounter between humanity and the divine. Fox was overjoyed to be given this new intimacy with God but was also sure this was not a message for him alone, but one that could and should be the basis for everybody’s relationship with God. Fox saw in his experience not only the basis of a this-worldly salvation but one that was universal. It demanded spiritual equality and it highlighted the apostasy of other religious groups and the new covenant available to all. Everyone needed to adopt this approach to their life of faith and the spiritual consequences.

Worship was held in silence, in any place, as everywhere was equally sacred. Clergy became redundant, an impediment to direct encounter. Scripture was secondary to direct revelation, and in a state of continued transformation, the Christian calendar and other outward forms were anachronistic. Baptism was inward, Communion was inward and the early Quaker focus on the end times was symbolic of the marriage supper of the Lamb in Revelation rather than Paul’s injunction in Corinthians. Why break the bread until the Lord comes again when the Lord had come to these Quakers and would come to all who left the Church and turned directly to God.

The idea and experience of direct encounter has remained a constant, but British Quakerism has changed its theological emphasis four or five times since those early days. Today, Quakers are more permissive. The emphasis on the primary authority of experience and an accompanying addition of a doctrine of continuing revelation has meant that Quaker belief is not necessarily tied to any text or any part of even its own tradition. In the 20th century Quakerism moved from being a Christian group to a community of believers in which Christians and non-Christians, theists and non-theists, worship together, their beliefs transcended by the silence of worship. Belief no longer defines Quakerism but rather the approach to worship and the life that leads out of this worship binds Quakers together. Quakerism is a way, not a set of beliefs.

But in all their permissiveness, Quakers today are equally as sure as George Fox, just in a different direction. Quakerism is now centred around being open to new ideas, of travelling without ever reaching full understanding of the mystery of faith. Every theological statement is only true personally, partially or provisionally, and corporate statements of belief, rare though they are, are thus always “towards” or in some way “perhaps” kinds of statements.

It looks as if anything goes, as if this version of liberal religion is woolly and ephemeral. What is interesting, however, is the degree of certainty that Quakers feel about this approach to belief. As if stepping outside the world of faith we have come to understand that within the religious life, trying to fully understand or describe the nature of God demands human uncertainty. There is an “absolute perhaps” about our believing, a certainty about uncertainty, that is different from the uncertainties that those in other churches may have. Quakers are sure about being at least partially unsure.

In this, permissiveness can be fiery even if expressed temperately. Quakers are sure for themselves but cautious about full or final truth claims made by other religious groups. Belief, like hope as described in Romans, is about things unseen. Thus we combine a certainty about the value and authority of spiritual experience, a certainty about the value of silent worship in attaining that experience, and a certainty that trying to overdescribe the experience or the God we encounter is misplaced. The radical liturgy of silence continues in the Quaker tradition now sitting alongside a radical theology of the authenticity of uncertainty and the joy of continual discovery. It is a wonderful place to be.

B. P. Dandelion works at Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre in Birmingham and is Professor of Quaker Studies at the University of Birmingham