Recently, I’ve been thinking about core beliefs. I bring up core beliefs when I do interviews for the newsletter (you can read a few of those here, here, and here). But I realized that I’ve never described what a core belief is, so we should probably get on that.
Many of you know that I grew up as a Quaker, which was a particular inroad to understanding how belief functions in daily human life. Quakers are decidedly non-dogmatic. There aren’t creeds to memorize or recite, statements of faith to attest to in order to affirm your membership or hard and fast rules to follow. Instead, Quakers are mystics and experiential spiritual learners. We have what we call testimonies, statements of faith, that provide broad outlines to demarcate our spiritual ground, but then we each have to wrestle with those testimonies to determine how they will be manifested, articulated, and refined through our individual lives.
This process of what Quakers call “testing” results, in my experience, in a deeper understanding of your own belief system– how your various beliefs are connected, and what the core beliefs are that underlie all the others.
For me, a classic example of this in Quakerism is the relationship between the Testimony of Equality, pacifism, and price fixing. The Testimony of Equality states, quite simply, that there is that of God in every person. The end. No qualifications or exceptions. Everybody. That’s the whole thing.
It’s such a plain, straightforward statement, but such a radical idea– that everyone carries some Light, some piece of all that is sacred within them. One of the commitments, or beliefs, that follows for Quakers from this testimony is pacifism, a spiritual commitment to non-violence. If you believe that everyone carries some piece of the Divine within them, including yourself, how could you commit an act of violence against them? To do so would be to deny the Light you both carry and the inherent connection it forges between you.
The Testimony of Equality also led to fixed prices, believe it or not, which were introduced in colonial times in North America. All the way back through human history prior to that time, goods were exchanged by barter. Prices for individual goods fluctuated based on whim, negotiation skills, and relationships. If a shopkeeper knew and liked you and was feeling generous you might pay one price. If you were able to haggle well, regardless of your relationship, you might pay another. And if you walked into a shop cold, with no skill for negotiation and no connection to the local social network to lean on, you might pay more than anyone ever.
Colonial Quaker shopkeepers believed this system flew in the face of equality. If everyone is equal in God’s sight, as they would have said in those days, then everyone should be charged the same honest price for goods. This faith-based business model was so successful, ultimately, that everyone started doing it.
Pacifism and price-fixing are beliefs that might seem to have nothing in common– committing violence against another person denies your equal spiritual value and all people should be able to purchase goods at a fair and equal price. But those beliefs aren’t the core belief, which is what ties them together. The core belief upon which those beliefs are built is that everyone carries something sacred within them. Whatever that piece of the sacred is, it connects and obligates us to each other.
In my own life, I realize that this core belief manifests in additional, related ways. Because I believe there is that of God in everyone I am called to speak out against all systems that create hierarchies of human value. I’m also obligated to treat everyone that I encounter with respect, even if I’m tired or cranky or they’re being absolute assholes. I can’t dehumanize my political opponents, either, even on social media. Even to be funny.
I don’t always succeed in manifesting the testimony in all these ways. Let me not oversell myself as some paragon of virtue and calm. But I am always trying, and holding myself to account when I miss the mark.
A friend and I were recently discussing Putin, which recalled other arguments I’ve heard about Hitler and pacifism. Not to mention discussions around Donald Trump. She admitted she had had to abandon her ideals around everyone’s inherent value when it came to him. “He’s a rabid dog”, she insisted, “and I wouldn’t be sad if someone put him down.”
I could totally relate to that feeling. There are people in my life that were unremitting in their ability to inflict pain upon me and others and I was relieved when they died. But after my initial flush of relief, I was also sad for the loss of any potential future in which they could have chosen differently, as unlikely as that choice might have been.
Believing in that of God within everyone doesn’t make me ignore the horror that people inflict, or stop me from considering ways to stop them from continuing to commit harm. But it forces me to consider how to do that without continuing the cycle of harm myself, and to imagine the pain and horror they must carry in order to do the horrible things they do. It keeps me connected to our shared humanity and how my choices negate or respect that connection.
Centering myself around that core belief also helps ground me when expedience, anger, or retribution might otherwise rule my choices. I have to slow down and think beyond my most primal emotions to consider possible solutions. It also keeps me humble, because recognizing the connection between me and others affirms our collective light, as well as our respective darkness. I have perpetuated harm in my day, and I can’t humanely confront anyone else perpetuating harm without remembering we share that tendency as well.
Bringing myself back around to that core belief also makes my choices simpler, because regardless of the particulars of a given situation so many possible options are just never on the table. Sometimes I resent this tremendously, I’m not going to lie. I have to dig deeper into the well of my patience and compassion than my ego wants to, certainly than it seems like many do these days. I wonder why I should be working so hard for the benefit of people who don’t seem to care. Then I get over myself and admit that I do the work mostly for me. Because who I am in the world matters to me, regardless of other people’s choices.
In a complex and confusing world, it’s useful to understand the foundational belief that is non-negotiable for you, that underlies all your other beliefs. To know absolutely where you stand. It makes life simpler, if not easier. That of God in everyone is that core belief for me.
“I care about who I am in the world is important to me” that line struck me. Simple but profound. Thank you for that teaching and reminder of why I try not to take the easy, well populated path.
Indeed. “Thou art that” is one way of saying it. Or as the Beatles sang, “ I am you and you are me, and we are all together“ 🧡