Howard Thurman is truly one of the spiritual giants of the twentieth century. I can imagine not many folks know about him now. He died in 1981. Thurman was an African American leader who impacted most of the folks whose names we more likely remember. I think of Martin Luther King, Jr. and others like him. Recently read an article about Thurman by Thomas Robinson, who teaches at Brite Divinity School in Fort Worth, TX. I know Robinson and respect his scholarship.
Thurman was born in 1899 just before the turn of the twentieth century. He grew up in Daytona, FL, so he knew first-hand the plight of the black person in the South. For those of us living in the twenty-first century, it is difficult to imagine what he experienced. And for those of who are white, it is probably impossible to imagine. Thurman had a storied career. He was well-educated for a black man at that time. He was a pastor, professor and mentor to the Civil Rights leaders of the 60s.
All of this is not the subject of Robinson’s writing. Instead, he describes Thurman as a mystic---more precisely, a nature mystic. Even as a boy, Thurman was drawn to the outside. He grew up next to the Atlantic Ocean and it shaped his experiences. We are told that he loved the night. Robinson quotes Thurman who said night was “more than a companion…it was a presence, an articulate climate.” (1) Robinson comments, “The woods, the river, the ocean, the night sky---Howard Thurman found connection, consolation, and a sense of his own dignity and worth as a part of a vast, living, breathing planetary organism.” (2)
It is easy to spot those spiritually sounding words in Robinson’s quotation---connection, consolation and sense of dignity. Those sound like things an African American could never count on finding in the American culture of the time. But Thurman found that spiritual connection outside in nature. Remember, he said the night was an articulate climate. It is as if God spoke to him in and through the natural world. “Out there” he was a child of not only the universe but of God. He counted and he mattered. One is even tempted to say, black lives matter.
Robinson identifies the two most important influences on Thurman’s development of his mysticism. One of those people is Rufus Jones, Quaker professor of philosophy at Haverford College in Philadelphia. We know that Thurman spent time studying with Jones before going on to his own formal degree studies. We are told that Thurman adopted Jones’ own definition of mysticism. That definition said mysticism is “the type of religion which puts the emphasis on the immediate awareness of a relationship with God, on direct and intimate consciousness of Divine Presence.” (6) That sounds very Quaker to me, although if one does not know anything about Quakerism, it would not sound too different than a number of other early twentieth century writers on mysticism.
Robinson notes there was another aspect of Jones’ mysticism which attracted Thurman. That was “its ethical orientation.” This means that neither Jones nor Thurman were simply mystics who were content with navel gazing and with little awareness or concern for the larger world. Seeing this focus and springboard, if you will, explains a great deal about why Thurman would have such an impact on people like King. The gospel of both men was a gospel that demanded action in the world.
Perhaps I am drawn to this kind of mysticism because I am influenced by many aspects of Quakerism evidenced by Rufus Jones. I never met Jones, but for some years I lived with an awareness of his presence. The shadow of Jones’ life and legacy was long in the Philadelphia and New England areas. His daughter, Mary Hoxie Jones, whom I did know, was active in Quaker circles. I share this because I feel like I imbibed some of same stuff Thurman did. But I am not African American and, thus, my farm boy’s love of nature and the mystical perspective could never be the same of Thurman’s.
Robinson gets at this with profundity when he explicitly links Thurman’s nature mysticism with his own racial identity. Robinson tells us all those experiences of nature “are, in fact, racialized: that is, he sought solace in the more-than-human world, not only because of his personal grief, but because the human---that is, the white human world---was threatening, both existentially and physically…” (9) In that sense I lived in a different world, although it is fair to say we both shared the same nature.
I met Thurman at least a couple times. Throughout his life, he interacted with Quakers, even though he was ordained a Baptist. I share all this not merely as a quaint piece of memory, but because it is so relevant for today’s times. We live in a world that still needs Thurman’s voice and message. Because he has been gone for so long, it is sadly easy for him to be forgotten. His work is not done.
When you find yourself in nature, think about Howard Thurman. And realize not everyone’s experience of the world is the same. We need to join the work of Thurman, King and so many others in the gospel transformation of our world.
Timothy Robinson, “He Talked to Trees!” Spiritus Spring 2021
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