Friends In Fellowship

Convergent or Divergent -- Where Are Quakers Going?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 03 Mar 2008 16:45:00 +0000

Nancy and I attended a meeting last evening with about 60 other Friends from three yearly meetings to discuss the desire of forming an association of progressive Friends. Reflecting on that meeting today, I came to the conclusion, based on what I heard last night, my work as a congregational consultant, and my heart, that perhaps – and it’s just my opinion – that much of what I would hope from such a group is underway in the convergent Friends movement.

The convergent Friends movement is, it seems to me, the Quaker version of the emergent church movement – a group, according to their own words, “is a growing, generative friendship among missional Christians seeking to love our world in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.” (Emergent Village). They also say that they are about

“Growing”: which indicates our desire to develop as the dreams of God for the healing, redemption, and reconciliation of the world develop.
“Generative”: which means that we expect our friendship to generate new ideas, connections, opportunities, and works of beauty.
“Friendship”: Because we firmly hold that living in reconciled friendship trumps traditional orthodoxies – indeed, orthodoxy requires reconciliation as a prerequisite.
“Missional”: Because we believe that the call of the gospel is an outward, apostolic call into the world.

Why I think the convergent Friends movement has much to offer is that it embraces the above all within the context of the rich diversity of Quaker faith and practice. I like the idea behind the word “convergent” – one definition of which is ”tending to come together from different directions.” I am concerned that there be places for theological hospitality and deep discussion about Friends testimonies and their applicability in today’s world. I don’t think that developing another group of “like-minded” Friends is going to be very helpful to us. That would seem to me to be “divergent.” I know what I cherish are rich times of worship across “lines.” What feeds my soul is when whatever dialogue growing out of that worship is done with respect and caring – me listening and learning from my Evangelical brothers and sisters, my more mystical brothers and sisters, my liberal brothers and sisters and letting Christ teach me through all of them.

I don’t think convergent Friends is the final answer for all Friends in all circumstances. But I do think it has a lot to offer to those of us inside Friends who long for places of deep spiritual engagement (and all that means) and those outside of Friends who hear about us and wonder where to connect with a people who seek to be known as the Friends of God in an open and welcoming way.

--Brent

PS Robin Mohr, a blogger at What Canst Thou Say and a Friend from San Francisco, is organizing a dinner in Indiana on April 6 for anybody interested in convergent Friends. It will be at Ploughshares Farm (Nancy’s and my home) that evening. You can read more about it and sign up to attend at http://robinmsf.blogspot.com/2008/01/convergent-friends-dinner-in-indiana.html If you're itnerested, please visit Robin's blog and sign up to attend.

Betty Butterfield, Quaker Worship, & Our Theological Hospitality

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 21:15:00 +0000

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
from -- "To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet, At Church"
Robert Burns, 1786

As I posted on my other blog (holyordinary.blogspot.com), I was reminded of that thought by Burns recently after receiving an email from my friend Keith. Now Keith is not his real name -- even though that's what I call him, even to his wife -- and for purposes of this post it's probably best I don't use his real name. That's because Keith is highly respected in the religious community of our fair city and I'd hate to do anything that might harm that reputation.

But he is sort of a smart-aleck and knows that I am, so sent me a link to the video that follows -- the religious adventures of Betty Butterefield. Betty is on a search for the right church, and as Keith told me via the miracle of email, she visited the Quakers.

The posting on my other blog has generated some thinking that I want to share on this one, because of it's emphasis on Friends and our witness and worship. And one thing is that Betty describes the group as looking like an AA meeting -- adults sitting in a circle and being quiet. She wants to "break the ice" and so stands up and says, "Hi, I'm Betty and I'm an alcoholic."

It made me wonder how many other folks have visited Friends and wondered if somebody had forgotten their part of the program? Do we do anything to help people know what to expect? Should we? If so, what. A little pamphlet on silence and worship hardly seems like enough -- and yet what would be enough? How welcoming are we -- really -- to the Bettys who wander into our midst?

Betty, talking about Quakers during her discourse on visiting the Unitarians, helped, in spite (or maybe because) of her satire, to see ourselves as others see us.
--Brent
PS Yes, I know I said I wasn't going to blog here anymore, but I just couldn't help myself.

A Caroling We Go

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 00:59:00 +0000

The Friends In Fellowship blog will most likely not make it into the new year. But the Friends In Fellowship Group will continue to meet every other week at Ploughshares Farm in Mooresville, IN at 6:30 in the evening.

On December 23, the last meeting night of 2007, the group's leading was to gather as usual, but instead of our usual long silences and intentional conversation, to begin with silence and break into song. Christmas songs, to be exact. Carols will be the theme of the evening -- along with cookies for the young (and young at heart) to decorate and egg nog to savor. If you live in Indiana (or just feel like driving!), come and bring a request for your favorite Christmas carol. No singing ability needed -- just the desire to make a joyful noise with other like-hearted folks.

Pastoral Candidates

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 19:03:00 +0000

I think I've found the reason Friends are having such a leadership problem. This was forwarded to me by a Ministry and Counsel member who wished, for obvious reasons, to be remain anonymous.

The following is a confidential report on several candidates being considered for a pastorate.

Adam: Good man but problems with his wife. Also one reference told of how his wife and he enjoy walking nude in the woods.

Noah: Former pastorate of 120 years with not even one convert. Prone to unrealistic building projects.

Abraham: Though the references reported wife-swapping, the facts seem to show he never slept with another man's wife, but did offer to share his own wife with another man.

Joseph: A big thinker, but a braggart, believes in dream-interpreting, and has a prison record.

Moses: A modest and meek man, but poor communicator, even stuttering at times. Sometimes blows his stack and acts rashly. Some say he left an earlier church over a murder charge.

David: The most promising leader of all until we discovered the affair he had with his neighbor's wife.

Solomon: Great preacher but our parsonage would never hold all those wives.

Elijah: Prone to depression. Collapses under pressure.

Elisha: Reported to have lived with a single widow while at his former church.

Hosea: A tender and loving pastor but our people could never handle his wife's occupation.

Jeremiah: Emotionally unstable, alarmist, negative, always lamenting things, reported to have taken a long trip to bury his underwear on the bank of a foreign river.

Isaiah: On the fringe? Claims to have seen angels in church. Has trouble with his language.

Jonah: Refused God's call into ministry until he was forced to obey by getting swallowed up by a great fish. He told us the fish later spit him out on the shore near here. We hung up.

Amos: Too backward and unpolished. With some seminary training he might have promise, but has a hang-up against wealthy people—might fit in better in a poor congregation.

Melchizedek: Great credentials at current work place, but where does this guy come from? No information on his resume about former work records. Every line about parents was left blank and he refused to supply a birth date. (This aside from Les: Ancient Jewish tradition has it that Melchizedek is really Shem. If you check out the lifespan of Shem in the Bible, it seems to be true!)

John: Says he is a Baptist, but definitely doesn't dress like one. Has slept in the outdoors for months on end, has a weird diet, and provokes denominational leaders.

Peter: Too blue collar. Has a bad temper-even has been known to curse. Had a big run-in with Paul in Antioch. Aggressive, but a loose cannon.

Paul: Powerful CEO type leader and fascinating preacher. However, short on tact, unforgiving with younger ministers, harsh and has been known to preach all night.

James & John: Package deal preacher & associate seemed good at first, but found out they have an ego problem regarding other fellow workers and seating positions. Threatened an entire town after an insult. Also known to try to discourage workers who didn't follow along with them.

Timothy: Too young!

Methuselah: Too old . . . WAY too old!

Jesus: Has had popular times, but once his church grew to 5000 he managed to offend them all, and then this church dwindled down to twelve people. Seldom stays in one place very long. And, of course, he's single -- at his age, you have to wonder why.

Judas: His references are solid. A steady plodder. Conservative. Good connections. Knows how to handle money. We're inviting him to preach this Sunday. Possibilities here!

God's Radiant Love

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 01:30:00 +0000

If we are to be a church of radiant love, where do we start? How do we become such a people?

The first step begins with the realization that we are the children of a God of radiant love. We all know that God is love, but we tend to forget how overwhelming that love is.

The season of advent, not celebrated by us non-liturgical Quakers, is upon us. The idea behind it, though, illustrates the radiance of God’s love in a way that nothing else does. This is no passive expression. This is God entering into relationship with us in a way that is almost incomprehensible. The mystery of the incarnation is of Jesus’ bringing us God’s love wrapped in the familiar packaging of a human body.

God constantly reaches out to us. Besides coming in Jesus, He shows it every day by the kindness of our fellow travelers, the unexpected little graces that come into our lives in the midst of the various mists we may find ourselves fumbling about in. Through it all, always faithful, ever-present, often unrecognized, is God’s abiding love. The tears of our loving heavenly parent mix with our own, whether they be tears of happiness or grief or despair.

Recognition of that fact, that we are always clasped in the embrace of a God of radiant love, is the first step on becoming a church, a people, of radiant love.

--Brent

Peace, Peace, Peace, or ...

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 12 Nov 2007 18:39:00 +0000

Last night, at the Friends in Fellowship worship group, the topic of the intentional (though unplanned) conversation was the Friends peace testimony. It arose out of the observation that yesterday was Veteran's/Armistice/Remembrance Day (depending on where you live). A day that was the original armistice day of the Great War -- the war to end all wars. Which, as is obvious, it didn't.

So we talked about whether or not the peace testimony had any efficacy, was worth pursuing, was a leading from the Lord, came from inside us, was futile, was needed, would end war, would allow war to continue, and myriad other things. It was a deep and wide ranging spiritual conversation -- with each person speaking from his or her heart. And finally, that's what we came down to -- it has to do with the heart, not the head.

Rational, logical, and theological explanations can be made for the Peace Testimony. But if we adopt it in our hearts and then speak it to the hearts of others, will it have any chance of working. Because, for all the logical reasons behind it, violence does sometimes seem to work very efficiently and with a minimal amount of time invested. Yet, we all recognize that while it may seem to work quickly and effectively, it's effects are rarely easily calculated and the seeds it sows often spring to the surface long after we think they should.

So, heart speaking to heart, faith speaking to faith, being obedient to the call of Christ in our hearts, seemed to us to be the only basis for peace in our -- or any -- time.
-- Brent

A Mission Statement?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 22:20:00 +0000

One day while preparing for a United Way meeting, I looked over the agenda. There at the bottom was a mission statement. It set me to wondering what kind of mission statement should Friends have?

Ephesians 4:1-16 gives what I believe it should be. In it, Paul gives wise instruction to the church at Ephesus – and us. He urges us to find unity in our diversity of gifts. “If you are one in the Spirit of God,” he seems to say, “you will inevitably be at peace with one another. And in doing so you will grow into full maturity in love.”

One of my favorite fiction writers is the Catholic priest Andrew Greeley. One of his books is about the election of a pope (too bad the recent real election of the Pope didn't end the way Greeley's book did -- but that's another blog!). In his novel, one of the cardinals gives a speech in which he says,
“...we are a Church of love. Our message from the Lord Himself even today is the message that God is love and that we are those who are trying, however badly, to reflect that love in the world…. Important for us today … is the affirmation that we exist to preach a God of love, we try to be a people of love and we want our Church to be, insofar as we poor humans can make it, a Church of radiant love. Does such a Church have a future? How could it not?”

That should be our mission -- to grow in love with each other and God while sharing the gifts that God has given us with our fellow Friends and the wider world.

Would the Friends church then have a future?

How could it not?
-- Brent

Neither CEO nor Slave: The Paradox of the Quaker Pastor

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 13:24:00 +0000

Since Kent and Richard, from their non-pastoral Friends side of things, asked for some clarification or explanation about what differentiates Quaker pastors from other pastors, I decided to take a stab at that question. (I would have answered sooner, but have been doing my civic duty by serving on a jury). These are just my thoughts, but the issue is something I've wrestled with for a long time (since before I was recorded in 1980) -- how does my role differ from the Presbyterian pastor next door -- and how, or can, the idea of Quaker pastor be reconciled with the Friendly testimony against hireling ministers?

This is a pretty involved topic, so I'm setting it up as a separate posting, rather than trying to answer as a comment to the previous post. And even here, I'm just giving a skeleton view -- though I do think it's high time, especially given the number of seminaries preparing women and men for Friends pastoral work, that someone write a relevant guidebook or apology (or both) for the nature and work of the Quaker pastorate.

Having said all that -- here goes (again these are my thoughts! I'm very open to disagreements or rebuttals):

Elton Trueblood asserts that men in the clerical profession in the times of the early Friends were considered “hirelings’ because “they seemed to make the ministry more of a job than a calling.” This whole idea of calling and following a leading is central to the nature of Friends pastoral work. It has to be a call, not just to general service, but to particular places of service at particular times. I see this differing from many other, especially mainline traditions, where women and men prepare for the ministry in general and that it becomes their career path. I saw this most clearly in the semester I studied at a Lutheran seminary and various folks talked about their path into ministry. I was one of very few who used the concept of call as I delineated it above.

A concern about Quaker pastoral ministry has always been that it will evolve into "profession." Richard John Neuhaus (certainly no left leaning Quaker-type), in Freedom for Ministry: A Critical Affirmation of the Church and Its Mission, points to the increasing consideration of the pastoral ministry as a “profession”. This sounds to me a lot like what is going on at times among Friends in pastoral ministry. This move toward profession, Neuhaus says, “is a poignant confession of vocational bankruptcy.” Sounds like he and Fox and some other early Friends might agree.

Another difference (besides calling) is, I think, the question of authority. Many pastors in many denominations have authority by virtue of their ordination. A Catholic priest and Presbyterian pastor are both, in effect, the c.e.o's of their congregation. That is not true for the Quaker pastor (no matter how some might wish it was). The Clerk is the authority in our Meetings. That's a significant difference that we need to ensure is not blurred.

I do think there are a number of Biblical models for the Quaker pastorate. One is Ephesians 4:11&12 “It was he [Jesus] who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up…”

My understanding of what the Friendly model should be is reflective of the passage in Ephesians. Throughout the history of Friends we have had folks in these various services.

Evangelists – the Valiant Sixty, John Camm and John Audland to Bristol
Pastors – “Second Day Morning Meeting” which supervised the “nourishing of various flocks” (Elton Trueblood) and supporting various ministerial/pastoral types (not with salaries, but in support of their families).
Robert Barclay says, “We do believe and affirm that some are more particularly called to the work of the ministry ….”

The paradox for Quaker pastorate today is to find a third way where the pastor is not the c.e.o. of the local Meeting nor slave. The role of the Quaker pastor must be to prepare God’s people for works of service. I see the Quaker pastor as a fellow spiritual pilgrim -- moving toward God with the rest of the congregation, set apart only because he or she was called to serve the members (even -- or maybe even especially -- the annoying ones). If authority or weight is granted, it comes not from the title, but because the congregation recognizes the depth of the pastor (if it exists) in the same way it recognizes other weighty Friends. For Friends today, I believe that involves both the specialized ministry of a trained and called pastor and the universal ministry of a called and equipped congregation.

To facilitate that, Lorton Huesel says four things are essential

The meeting for worship must be free from rigidity which prevents the workings of the Spirit
Preaching in our meetings for worship must be under the leadership of the Spirit.
We must adhere to Friends’ business methods and never let power and authority be centralized in the pastor.
Pastors and the other members of the meeting must be trained in the art of silence.

Seth Hinshaw, in The Spoken Ministry Among Friends, said, “The pastor’s role in a Friend’s meeting is exacting and difficult. The pastor is not hired to preach, but liberated to serve.”

We need to recover, I think, that sense that the Quaker pastorate is an exacting and difficult liberation to serve, not to be served.

--Brent

What's in a Name?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 19:18:00 +0000

“Archbishop Bill.” That’s how I often used to find myself referred to in the Muncie Star Press. Phil Ball, a retired medical doctor and professional curmudgeon, writes a regular column of miscellaneous ramblings about whatever amuses him. One of those things, when I lived in Muncie, was my golf game, as he was my most frequent playing partner.

We haven’t always been friends. Phil has a certain skepticism about things “churchy”— calling himself an excommunicated Presbyterian. His wife, however, attends the Meeting I pastored. Soon after we arrived in Muncie, Esther invited Nancy and me to dinner. Phil wasn’t thrilled. He mused in one of his columns how he should refer to me—pastor, priest, preacher, minister? I wrote him a nice letter letting him know that we Quakers didn’t use titles. I said he could simply call me Brent or “His Eminence.”

He has ever since. Or Bishop. Or Reverend Eminence. Or any number of titles that he makes up and then puts in print, all while quoting some outrageous thing I’ve said in the holy hush of our golf game.

Everyone, including some whose pastors are Reverend, got a kick out his needling me. We laughed about it and folks at Friends Memorial smiled at the sign on my door that said, “His Eminence’s Study.”

But we knew it’s a joke, because we Quaker pastoral types don’t use titles.

Or do we?

I’ve noticed, to my dismay, a creeping “title-ism,” lately. Like in a few of the newsletters I read from other Friends churches. In some of them the pastor signs his printed sermonette “Pastor Joe Bob” (the name has been changed) or some such thing. This bothers me, even though these are folks whose ministry and friendship I respect and cherish.

It bothers me because I worry that by doing so we blur one of the distinguishing differences between being a Friends pastor and one in any other denomination.

Scott Russell Sanders, an unprogrammed Friend from Bloomington, Indiana and professor at Indiana University, writes in Falling Toward Grace: Images of Religion and Culture in the Heartland, about how in the 19 century many Friends congregations began hiring ministers. The result, he says, is that they began behaving “for all the world like other low-temperature Protestant churches.” That’s harsh, but Elton Trueblood, in the 1960 Quaker Lecture at Indiana Yearly Meeting (and later in Quaker Religious Thought) said something similar when he noted that “our pastoral system in … some areas…of Friends is merely a poor reflection of … stronger Christian bodies.” “The mistake,” Elton says, “was that a fundamentally alien system was taken over, almost intact, from other Christian bodies.”

One of the ways he said he knew that to be true was the preponderance of Friends pastors who allowed themselves to be referred to as Rev. So and So at community and other gatherings.

Scott and Elton, though poles apart on other issues, are in agreement on this one. And I’m with them. The role of the pastor among Friends is like that in no other denomination. To be sure, there are similarities. But we need to keep the distinctives in mind, too. We need to remember that we are neither CEO nor doormat. We are called to be co-laborers with Christ and congregation. That understanding of the unique relationship between the one called to pastor and the other Friends who are members of the Meeting begins to erode the moment I begin referring to myself as Pastor Brent. Those who pastor among Friends live in a dynamic tension of serving as spiritual guides while remaining fellow spiritual travelers of a local congregation.. It’s a ministry that needs no title.

Church or Meeting or...

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 18:41:00 +0000

Our pastor's sermon this morning began with reading he's been doing about why the younger generation (from my viewpoint, almost everybody younger than me fits into that!) like Jesus but hates the church. If the research he read is true -- then Gen Y, Gen X -- are fine with the Gospel (as they understand it) but not too happy with the institution of the church. Which struck me as a wonderful "marketing" opportunity for us Quakers -- who, if not adverse to advertising our existence, are not very good at it. How do you capture on a billboard or bumper sticker a spiritual experience as deep as Quakerism offers?

Which made me think that maybe a name change that many Friends adopted in the 19th and early 20th century ought to be undone. If Gen Y et al like Jesus but don't like the church -- let's get rid of the "church." By that I mean the name on the front of many Friends congregational building. Let's drop Podunk Friends Church and go by Podunk Friends Meeting -- and alert the local media to why we're changing our names. Name changes are all the rage in mega-congregations and those who want to be -- just in our county alone we've got things like Connection Pointe, LifeWay, and all sorts of things that used to Podunk Christian Church or Southern Baptist of Podunk or ...

So let's go back to Meeting and invite folks to Meeting. For one it sounds a bit more hospitable than church. Of course, with it's business overtones (and many of us are meeting-ed almost unto death), perhaps we could emphasize that what we mean by meeting is "gathering" -- we're getting together for worship.

And then we invite people to the second meaning of meeting -- encounter. We come to meet other like-hearted people. People searching for the sacred. Some having found more than others, some of us just learning the way or beginning to think about the Divine seriously. I say like-hearted, notice, and not like-minded. We don't all have to think alike -- which is a good thing, since few of us do. Sometimes I'm of two minds about things all on my own!

Besides meeting other like-hearted people, we come to meet God. To encounter the Divine. Not just to be told about the divine through story, sermon, song, and silence, but to actually gaze into the face of our loving God and listen for God's words to our souls. What more winsome invitation could there be than that? If you like Jesus, but not the church, then come with us -- come to Meeting and meeting.

Would that we would dare do so.

-- Brent

Spiritual Community

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 13:20:00 +0000

The Friends in Fellowship worship sharing group had its regular (although there never seems to be anything "regular" about them other than the frequency which they are held -- each gathering is unique) meeting last night. After opening with deep silence, a conversation began on the topic of what makes for a spiritual community. The concern behind the initial thoughts on this issue, as I understand it, came from a desire to ensure that Friends Meetings were more than social communities, but were indeed spiritual communities. "There has to be something more than I like you and you like me and that's why we choose to meet," seemed to be the thought behind this.

The thoughtful comments and questions that came for the next almost an hour were wise and reflective. And ultimately we left the question unsettled to some extent. Does a spiritual community differ from a social community because instead of human-to-human relationships it is based on human-to-God-to-human relationships? Is it based on "a call" to join the group? Is it covenantal in nature -- either with a formal understanding of the covenant or an implied one? Is the difference that clear cut between the two types of groups?

As you might suspect, the topic changed directions some and followed the stream of asking "How do we foster a spiritual community" -- since, regardless of the divergence in thought about what makes up a spiritual community, it was obvious that we all wanted to be a part of one (why else do we gather?!). The only true clearness we received on that topic was "We don't need more potluck dinners!" Behind that, of course, was the idea that we can't force spiritual (or social) communities by setting up programs.

Still, on a night that one of spiritual community and fostered the experience of the Divine in those who were gathered, the questions remain -- what is a spiritual community and what do we do to foster it?

Ideas? Comments? Suggestions?

--Brent

10 Principles for Theological Hospitality?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 14:34:00 +0000

I attended a gathering about open-source (sometimes known as crowd-sourcing) publishing this past weekend in Ann Arbor, MI. It was convened by David Crumm who is the lead religion writer of the Detroit Free Press. David, and a group of like-minded folks, have had a web presence titled Spirit Scholars for about a year -- you can visit it at http://www.spiritscholars.com/ That effort led them to arrange a gathering last Saturday to talk about new ways to connect in a post-modern world. David and his cohorts are going to be setting up a new way for readers and writers to connect called Read The Spirit (visit it at http://www.readthespirit.com/). You can read more about the event at my other blog (holyordinary.blogspot.com) or at Read the Spirit, if you're interested.

What I want to share here are the 10 principles behind Crumm's movement. He and his co-workers call them "The Ten 21st-Century Principles of Religious Publishing" and as I reflected on them, I wonder how many of them are applicable to emergent/convergent Quakers and the idea of theological hospitality --

Principle 1: It's about the Voice, not the book.
Principle 2: If we are people of Truth, then we have nothing to fear from creatively, vigorously searching for Truth.
Principle 3: We must look for Truth in every stage and condition of life -- and in every corner of our human family -- because our traditions call us to overturn false assumptions about the vulnerable.
Principle 4: It's about connection, not competition.
Principle 5: The most powerful spiritual stories are in the lives of the ordinary people we meet.
Principle 6: Millions of people are looking for the best path toward a spiritually satisfying Home.
Principle 7: We are in an era of profound cultural change that raises spiritual questions, across the spectrum, about our relationship to our planet - and the meaning of the place in which we live.
Principle 8: The Spirit moves in community.
Principle 9: Radical transparency is good business.
Principle 10: Peace is possible.

(the complete text of "Ten Principles" is available at the www.ReadTheSpirit.com Web hub.)

I think there's some exciting truths to these -- and that they do have implications for our being Friends in the 21st Century.

-- Brent

Where The Words Come From -- and From Whom

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 16:35:00 +0000

I returned home from Santa Fe Sunday evening a bit too late to join our Friends In Fellowship worship sharing group (for everything but refreshments), but I still got to experience it. That's because when I arrived I made my way onto our screen porch and observed an almost palpable silence. It was obvious from the silence that deep soul-work was going on inside the house. I settled into a comfy chair and let the spiritual energy from inside wash over me. I heard an occasional voice from the silence -- but was far enough removed that I couldn't make out the particular words. But the words, themselves, didn't matter. As the Indian chief Papunehang told John Woolman years ago, “I love to feel where the words come from.” The words, and silence, I heard were coming from somewhere deep inside of people as they wrestled with the nature of dissension and disunity at a larger Friends gathering many of them had attended and what they might be called to do about it.

From what I know, this is a group of theological diversity. Some would call themselves Christ-centered. Others would consider themselves more God-centered. The Bible was not read aloud, but was referred to and quoted. As were hymns and other songs. What was amazing to feel, and feel it I did as surely as I felt the Hoosier heavy air and humidity after coming from the desert dry of New Mexico, was the depth of spiritual worship in the midst of respect for the other.

Then, as I was thinking about this gathering, I contrasted it with worship services I experienced in Santa Fe. They were supposed to be a synthesis of Jewish, Christian, and Muslim worship that would lead us to an appreciation of the other (than ours) Abrahamaic faiths. I say supposed to because they didn't work for me. I know others found them very moving, but for me they were trying to be so much that they ended up not being much of anything. I kept getting hung up on having a Catholic deacon offering Muslim chants while a Muslim was sitting right there and could have done it himself. The deacon also did Jewish prayers and raised his hands in the tetragrammaton (a physical representation of the Hebrew letters for God -- YHWH) and said this is what rabbis did when they gave the benediction -- which my friend Aaron, the rabbi, says is not true. The only rabbis supposed to do that are the the kohanim or kohane (from the priestly caste). These things seemed just a bit incongruous to me -- sort of like if I, as a Quaker, would show up at a Southern Baptist church and start performing baptisms.

I know these worship services were supposed to be acts of theological hospitality in some ways, but what occurred to me upon reflecting on the difference between them and our worship sharing group was not that one was interfaith and one was between one faith, but rather that at the worship sharing group no one felt necessary to stand outside his or her beliefs and conduct himself as an "other," but instead stayed fully within his or her beliefs and was willing to be informed or even formed by the "other."

The interfaith intent of the services in New Mexico would have worked, I think, if each had been true to its heritage -- inviting us one night into a Jewish service with a rabbi, a Christian service the next with a priest, and a Muslim one with an imam to follow. This would have honored all and been an exercise in theological hospitality instead of being a sort of mish-mash of each. It would have improved, in my mind, the integrity of the services.

I'm not trying to make this a rant -- which I don't think it is. Rather it illustrated to me, as I thought about why I felt sitting outside of worship-sharing was more meaningful that participating in the interfaith synthesis was, that theological hospitality does not mean abandoning one's own deeply held faith positions. Rather theological hospitality means that another's deeply held faith positions are no threat to me and so I can hear -- and even worship with -- them without necessarily agreeing or changing my own. That respect does no violence to faith and that God is big enough and strong enough to defend God's ownself and does not require me to partake in that defense.

What I am called to be authentic to my faith experience, open to the Light I've been given, listen for God in my life, share as I am led, and not neglect showing "hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Heb. 13:2).

An Experience in Theological Hospitality

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Tue, 31 Jul 2007 19:24:00 +0000

I had a fresh experience in theological hospitality last evening. I'm currently in Santa Fe, New Mexico attending The Glen sponsored by Image journal. The theme is "God of the Desert." While I'm taking a fiction writing workshop, I am also participating in programs and discussions about the tensions among the three Abrahamic faith traditions and how the perspectives of literature and art might enhance this discussion.

One of the speakers last night raised the thought that perhaps we should not start with the theological difference that divide us, but rather with the questions about why and how our individual souls seek to know God?

That lead me to ponder, why do we each hunger for the Divine? And why do we minimize that hunger in each person and allow ourselves to be diverted into argument and dissension in the name of protecting purity? I guess I'm thinking a lot about that recently because of some of the issues that seem to be arising among some Midwestern Friends.

That's not to say, as the speaker last night pointed out, that our theological differences are of no small import. They are rich and deep and important precisely because they are how we try to make sense of the spiritual hunger that drives us and how we try to name that which have come to know experientially and intellectually. But when we use them to deny another's search for that which is eternal and, ultimately in this world, Truth seen only dimly as in an old mirror in sore need of new silvering, we do violence not only to a fellow child of God of inestimable worth, but also to the faith and God we profess.

After this keynote address, given by a Jewish poet who spoke movingly about how the world needs Jews to be Jews and Christians to be Christians and Muslims to be Muslims -- to live up to the best of their faith -- we ended in worship. I was not diminished by worshipping with others with whom I had were profound theological disagreements. Instead I was blessed by the depth of spiritual seeking of the gathered souls -- hearts and spirits hungering for the Divine.

Discernment and Sunday Night

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Wed, 25 Jul 2007 14:49:00 +0000

That's what our second gathering of Friends in Fellowship worship sharing group talked about Sunday night. After an opening time of sharing joys and concerns, we launched into a wide ranging discussion about the nature and practice of spiritual discernment. If I'd been in my writer's mode, instead of worshipper's mode, I could have captured lots of good ideas to use in the book I'm writing about discernment.

But that's one thing I noticed that night -- I was listening less for information than I was for intent and meaning. Especially that which came from the hearts and souls of the gathered Friends.

One of the things that amazed me, and confirmed that this worship sharing group based on theological hospitality is a good/God thing, is that folks there, many of whom had just met two weeks earlier, felt free to express their thoughts and beliefs. It was a safe place. It wasn't always an agreeing place. Indeed, Friends asked probing questions or offered loving challenges.
And while nothing was "decided," nothing needed to be. Instead, our sharing led us to a time of deep worship.

It was a powerful experience for me and from what I heard, the others who were there, too. The formula for a new kind of gathered meeting seemed to work (that night, anyhow) -- sharing of personal joys and concerns, deep personal reflection on an important topic that arose as we gathered (it wasn't planned), all followed by worship.

Also, if you can judge a gathering's worth by length of time that people hang around after the "program" is over, it was a success at that level, too. Folks stayed for refreshments and sat around on the screen porch talking for quite while -- some until long after dark.

What a blessing.

Open Source Religion

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 13:15:00 +0000

After participating in an experiment in open source religion (more about that a bit later) with David Crumm of the Detroit Free Press and a bunch of others, it occurred to me that what I'm hoping for this site -- and anything that ensues from it -- is a bit like that experiment. What is open source religion? David describes it as "the cutting edge of individual spirituality that's thriving outside the walls of organized religion. It's a historic shift in power and authority from religious leadership to the consumer-oriented adherents of religious movements."

Religious movements -- that idea appeals to me much more than religious establishments or organizations. Especially those structures that were set up years ago and seem to need to be served rather than serve. While I'm not calling for the "death" of Yearly Meetings, the question as we Quakers move forward is, do the local Meetings exist to serve the Yearly Meeting or does the Yearly Meeting exist to serve the local Meetings? While many, if not most, Friends would say that latter, one has to wonder if indeed this is the case.

I don't think this is an isolated Quaker problem. Other faith traditions are struggling with the roles and shapes of their denominational structures. At the same time, within many of them, are renewal movements that are calling forth the life of the Spirit in people -- and not asking for their committee service or money.

At any rate, back to open source religion, in our experiment for Wired e-magazine, "for six weeks," writes Crumm, "40 brave volunteers from across the U.S. met in a special online forum 'Open Source Religion,' to talk about their deepest beliefs; along the way, their respectful curiosity wound up defying the old warning about never discussing religion with strangers...As their emails crisscrossed the continent, the forum members moved from exploring their own spiritual yearnings to talking honestly about their anxieties over religious conflict in the world."

That's part of my hope for Friends In Fellowship. That at the very least it could become a place of theological hospitality for folks to come to talk about their deepest beliefs and hopes for the Society of Friends while exploring our spirituality yearnings. Then who knows... perhaps a movement and a meeting face-to-face will arise if the the Spirit leads.

To read more about the Open Source Religion experiments, visit
http://www.wired.com/techbiz/media/news/2007/07/open_source_religion?currentPage=all

Another View of Sunday's Meeting

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 15:10:00 +0000

I've received a number of emails about Sunday's worship sharing group. Bill Clendineng sent an especially thoughtful one and, with his permission, I'm sharing it here.

From Bill --

As I thought about the Sunday evening meeting, it occurs to me that we had in that meeting on a small scale a reflection of the larger divisions among Friends.

Sunday evening, the issue was structure vs. "non-structure.' You proposed some structure and others suggested "non-structure." This is part of the struggle that is going on among Friends on the larger scale.

I considered pointing out that all worship, even "unprogrammed" worship is structured. Worship grows out of a set of presuppositions about the world and our relationship to God, and is conditioned by culture and shaped by our preferences.

George Fox and his companions were deconstructing worship in order to make room for the structure the Spirit would bring and that structure took many forms. It was not limited to quiet waiting, but quiet waiting was essential in order for the Spirit to cause worship to happen.

I would have like to see how your proposal for structure would work, and we may end up looking like what you proposed. I look forward to seeing how this group develops.

Behold I Do A New Thing

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 14:34:00 +0000

What do thirteen Friends affiliated with six Meetings from three Indiana based yearly meetings and from FUM and FGC have in common? A hunger for worship and sharing in a theologically hospitable group, evidently. At least that's what seems apparent from last evening' meeting at Ploughshares Farm.

Nancy and I were pleased as cars rolled up the long lane in response to an invitation to come and explore "idea of starting a new worship group." The Spirit was moving as Friends gathered in an attitude of spiritual exploration and seeking guidance about whether this was a good idea. While some Friends knew each other (or of each other), new friends were made last night, too.

The original invitation included an idea the possibility of a "sort of Quaker version of "blended worship" -- neither entirely programmed or unprogrammed. It would offer a chance for group singing, prayer, maybe a short planned meditation (10 minutes or less) by the day's clerk of worship, and then open worship." As group members shared why they had come to the meeting (some driving an hour to an hour and half to be there), it became clear that such a structure was too rigid for a group that wanted to be sensitive to the Spirit's leading.

So, after an hour and half of sharing, prayer, and worship, here's what was decided -- the group will meet again for a time of worship and sharing. There will be no structure -- we'll be open to the Spirit's leading for how to spend our time together. There will be no set time to end -- again, so we can be open. There may be singing. Or not. Vocal prayer ... or not. It seems to me that it is an attempt to answer the question God asks in Isaiah 43:19 -- "Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" This is a possibility for perceiving what new thing God is doing. I see it as time of discovering anew what George Gorman describes in "The Amazing Fact of Quaker Worship" --

in this unlikely setting that I came to know what I can only describe as the amazing fact of Quaker worship. It was [there] that I discovered the way to the interior side of my life, at the deep centre of which I knew that I was not alone, but was held by a love that passes all understanding. This love was mediated to me, in the first place, by those with whom I worshipped. For my journey was not solitary, but one undertaken with my friends as we moved towards each other and together travelled inwards. Yet I knew that the love that held me could not be limited to the mutual love and care we had for each other. It was a signal of transcendence that pointed beyond itself to the source of all life and love.

The next gathering will be July 22 at 6:30 p.m. at Ploughshares Farm. All who feel led to attend are welcome.

Lessons from the Recent Past?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 15:18:00 +0000

One of my writing tasks over the last couple of years was doing a narrative history of Western Yearly Meeting as it prepares for its sesqui-centennial celebration. The writing of the first 120 years was fairly easy. But the most recent thirty were harder and the most recent ten the hardest. When I was finished, I decided to close with the following thoughts -- some of which I think are applicable not just to Western Yearly Meeting Friends, but to many yearly meetings and groups of Friends...

The first five years of the 21st century recorded a sharp decline as the number of adult members in the Yearly Meeting dropped to almost 4,500. This was a 1000 member drop in just five years. The number of meetings stood at fifty-two. This is the smallest it has been since prior to being set off by Indiana Yearly Meeting.

As the Yearly Meeting closes in on its sesqui-centennial year, a careful reading of its history does offer some thoughtful challenges that need to be considered. One is that when Western Yearly Meeting began, it had a clear sense that it was a place for Friends to gather for spiritual support in dangerous times – when Friends were carving lives out of an often unforgiving prairie or woodland and seeing the nation about to erupt in to civil war. While the prairies and woods have vanished, Friends find themselves negotiating the new frontiers of a modern, pluralistic society with values often contrary to the ones they hold and in a world where war is part of every day’s news. How does the Yearly Meeting gather Friends today for mutual spiritual support?

A second may be even more important. The most difficult times in the life of the Yearly Meeting have always centered on differences – of practice or theology. This was true in 1877 and is true today. The times when the Yearly Meeting has been most vital and spiritually effective are those times when differences were not seen as problems but rather when the members of the Yearly Meeting agreed to disagree, so to speak, and continued to work together for the greater good of doing God’s work in a hurting world. Congregational studies show that growth and redevelopment cannot occur in the midst of conflict. If Friends want to reach western Indiana and eastern Illinois, is there a way to ensure that diversity of faith, both conservative and liberal, can be embraced as ultimately creative and representative of the reality of God’s kingdom? Is God’s family big enough for all? This would seem to be one of the lessons from our history – the 1877 separation, for example, led to two Western Yearly Meetings. Each claimed doctrinal purity and condemned the other. Within a generation, though, these Friends were sending representatives to each other’s sessions. When the Conservative Yearly Meeting was laid down, Western Yearly Meeting officially stated that “It was a sorrowful moment …” as the Conservative Friends had “served the truth faithfully.” How much stronger might Western have been, indeed be today, had this separation never occurred?

Religious research studies show that there are people looking for what Friends have to offer. If the Yearly Meeting is going to thrive and attract these new people, it must come to a place where it is ultimately concerned more about proclaiming the good news and less concerned about correct doctrine.

This is not to say theology doesn’t matter – it does. Friends must learn express and live it in such a way that women and men of good faith and goodwill will be able to see that there is a point to be made for what we say. If the Friends message is that, in George Fox’s words, “There is one, even Christ Jesus who can speak to thy condition” and if Friends believe that hearing this good news will cause the listener’s soul to “leap with joy,” then they must affirm that they exist to preach about this God of love and joy, that they endeavor to be a people of love and joy, and that the congregations of the Yearly Meeting, with God’s help, be places that model radiant love and joy.

Be We Gruntled or Dis?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 19:08:00 +0000

It's been a quiet week in my hometown... well, actually, I don't know about that, since I no longer live in my hometown. But the week at Ploughshares Farm was fairly quiet with just a few Friends coming to call either in person or via the Ethernet. Still, there does seem to be some motion toward something new. After announcing the new possible worship group (first meeting on July 8), a number of Friends said they'd come to talk about it. What surprised me even more is the number of other non-Quaker types who have said they'd be interested in the group. As one friend said, "I took the 'Belief-O-Matic' on beliefnet.com and it said I was Quaker -- so I'll be there."

Now this is hardly the groundswell of an emerging Quaker mega-church movement (which, too me would be a sure indication of the leading to do this coming from someone other than God), since only about 20 folks have indicated an interest in attending, but it is a start. And it does seem to fit some of the marks of the emergent church --

Pursuing faithfulness to God through new practices, structures and understandings.
Having a hopeful and positive view of God's engagement in the world
Living with the guidance of the Holy Spirit - not culture or understandings
Theologically active
Openness to the "other"
Interested in the future more than fighting the battles of the past (from Andrew Jones blog -- http://tallskinnykiwi.typepad.com/tallskinnykiwi/2006/04/the_dewaaypagit.html).

I like to think of this movement as a place for "gruntled" Quakers rather than disgruntled Friends -- to possibly come together celebrating what we are for rather than what we are against.

Is there a place for such a group? Is it more than one small worship fellowship? Something in my soul says there is. How will way open?

But ... a possible new place?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 25 Jun 2007 23:53:00 +0000

Cathy Habschmidt, in her response to an earlier post on this blog, asked the question, "What kind of place can we build?" The answer, in part and theory at least, lays somewhat in Martin Kelley's observation about the "recent phenomenon of small Christocentric worship groups coming out of the larger big city liberal meetings." As Midwestern Friends, some of us see the opposite need -- small theologically hospitable Christian worship groups coming out of fairly programmed, theologically conservative churches.

To that end, a few Friends in the central Indiana area are interested in exploring the idea of starting a new worship group. While it is still very much in the exploration/testing this leading stage, the idea is that it would meet twice a month (to begin with) and feature a sort of Quaker version of "blended worship" -- neither entirely programmed or unprogrammed. It would offer a chance for group singing, prayer, maybe a short planned meditation (10 minutes or less) by the day's clerk of worship, and then open worship.

If you live close to Indianapolis and would like to think with us and God about this, then you are invited to Nancy's and my place on July 8 at 6:30 p.m. for worship and discussion about this possibility.

This is not about starting a new meeting or asking people to choose between this and their current meeting or church. This, too, would be like the groups Martin has observed -- "It's happened respectfully and ties, personal friendships and memberships continue." For example, Nancy and I plan to continue to attend Plainfield Friends Meeting. What this is another opportunity for spiritual growth and vital worship with Friends. If you'd like to come, send me an email and I'll email you a map to our place. All are welcome.

Cyber-Space or a Real Place?

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Mon, 25 Jun 2007 23:37:00 +0000

I'm happy to see this blog is sparking some interesting thinking -- at least I'm finding it interesting. And I appreciate folks being so thoughtful about all this -- caring and kind, too. That's the kind of theological hospitality I've been seeking -- and hope for this blog.

Responding to Richardm, who writes "I see the center as including Friends who believe in God and his immediate presence for us but who, for one reason or another, shy away from embracing the term "Christian. Restricting the center to people who self-consciously identify as Christian is too narrow. It would exclude a lot of people who reject the label but embrace the essence--people who in fact are Christians but who don't feel comfortable with the name" -- actually, I doubt that we disagree about that. I know plenty of "wounded" folks -- refugees from the Fundamentalist wars, I think of them -- that fit that description. Some among my own family. I do think they feel pretty disenfranchised and would welcome a place of welcome (is that redundant?) even though they haven't necessarily been looking for such a place.

And, like Martin and Cathy, I wonder if cyber-convergent Quakerism is enough or just right or something in between is needed? Certainly it's a good place for us to share -- a sort of spiritual Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Souls Club. But many of us need a bit more, I suspect. While I'm not convinced that an association or organization in the traditional sense is called for, I'm also not convinced that it isn't. About the only thing I feel in my heart is that the current configuration of Quaker organization is not meeting that need and so perhaps there's a need for a least an occasion of getting together to talk about a convergent or centrist future. It would be done only by those led or moved to do -- no professional staff, no central office, no structure other than that that would evolve organically from the need of people to follow God's leading. And if I'm wrong -- well, that wouldn't be the first time, as my friends know.

I'm anxious to learn from Freedom Friends Church and Peggy -- to see what they've learned and where they've succeeded and failed. I think we have much to teach each other and Christ our Inner Teacher has much to teach us all

Not A New Yearly Meeting

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Thu, 21 Jun 2007 12:21:00 +0000

Wow. What thoughtful responses/comments. I'm gratified that folks are interested in this idea.

I do want to make one thing really clear, especially after reading and thinking about Jay Marshall's comment, and that is I'm not talking about creating a new yearly meeting or FGC, FUM, or FWCC. Those things exist. I am not interested Brent Bill Yearly Meeting (but might think about aligning with Jay Marshall Yearly Meeting, if it comes into being). And I agree with Jay that "any chance Friends have of cooperating with God's transforming power will come most easily through building relationships rather than by arguing points." Certainly much important conversation needs to take place within the current structure. And I don't believe it should necessarily be "tranquil." But I do think it should be civil. I don't think there's any place for stridency. And I mean that regardless of position -- Evangelical, liberal, moderate, or whatever. My concern is that, at present, that doesn't seem to be happening in the current structure.

Jay also calls us a dysfunctional family -- and I agree with that. I differ from Jay, perhaps, in my perception of the level of dysfunctionality. As my friend Tim Shapiro says, "All families are dysfunctional -- in their own way." But there often come times when the dysfunctionality is a major liability rather than just normal operating procedure that we work around. This seems to be one of those times, to me.

What I am envisioning and asking others to think about is this -- is it time for a third way? A new place to talk about the vitality among Friends that can lead to transformation in the 21st century that is theologically hospitable? I am not interested in a new structure to bitch and moan. I'm not thinking of a place to air grievances about injustices real or perceived or to have theological wranglings about whose recording should be rescinded or not or the future of this Friends organization or to issue policy statements or any of that.

I am thinking more of a place of encouragement for those individuals and meetings who are eschewing becoming some variation of the community church model (which seems to be working for a number of congregations and is fine if that's what they want to be) and are holding fast to their understanding of what it means for them to be a Friends congregation in their location in a time when some church growth models seem to be pressing to become less distinctive in faith and practice.

I'm not a weighty Friend. I have no position of authority in any yearly or local meeting. So what "dog do I have in this hunt?" I guess there are three. One is, that after a couple of years of resisting raising this question, I feel led to do so. This is not something I wanted to do or felt I had the energy for. I'd much rather, at one level, spend my evenings and weekends writing my little spiritual books and tending to the prairie grass and trees on the farm. And, if nothing comes of this, I'll happily return to that. But, at this time, in the same way Jay feels a leading to "push the conversation" within the current structure, I feel led to ask is it time for a new place where Friends can cross geographic and other lines to talk about the things that energize them for ministry, rather than attend committees or boards or sessions that become tense at best and rancorous at worst at times? I think the answer is yes -- whether it's face to face or through the blogosphere or some other means that interested Friends devise.

My second "dog" is wanting to affirm vital congregations. As Jay and others know, my "professional" life is largely spent consulting with congregations of all sizes and types. In my work, I have access to lots of studies and materials that address congregational vitality issues from people who aren't trying to sell anything. Many of these groups offer materials that encourage congregations -- I've posted some of them in the sidebars of this blog. Some are books; some are studies. And these are just the ones I know. Others, if we continue this conversation, may know more -- blogs, articles, books, people, etc. We could assemble a virtual library of resources for congregations and share knowledge among ourselves.

My third "dog" comes out of my other writing. My spirituality books emphasize Christian Quaker spirituality. As I travel the country schlepping books or leading spirituality workshops, I find a lot of interest in Quakerism. Then come the inevitable questions about where to find a Quaker congregation in that area. I have to admit that I don't, even as smart as I am, know where every Meeting is and I'm also a bit hesitant to just tell people to look online for Quakers closest to them. I'd like to be able -- in my wildest Quaker dreams -- to be able to point to some sort of resource that could guide them to a place where they would experience the kind of Quaker spirituality that I write about. Perhaps that's self-serving or naive -- or both. But I do know some Meetings in that fit that wish -- and I'd like to know about more.

Finally, and this probably too long for blog -- but then, I'm an old guy and what do I know from blogging -- I think a place for theological hospitality among Friends is important. I hear from too many Friends whose meetings feel like exiles in their yearly meetings or are actually contemplating leaving. Likewise, some pastoral leaders. And some are finding their status as recorded ministers in jeopardy. If these things happen, then will there be a place where thoughtful, caring dialogue can continue? Do Friends desire such a place?

Toward a Fellowship of Friends

brentbil@sbcglobal.net (Brent Bill) — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 13:23:00 +0000

I came home with my heart heavy after a meeting last night that ostensibly was about preparing Friends (Quaker) leaders for the 21st century. I heard a few good things, a number of things that seemed much more opinion than fact, and others that I just flat disagreed with. There was a lot of talk about what I would term "correctness" of belief -- testing (not just discussing) what a pastor believes about the Bible, Jesus, and so forth -- and that "Bible-based, Christ-centered" preaching is the key to the revitalization of Friends. I wouldn't have been bothered so much except in most circumstances when those kinds of words or phrases are mentioned, they are code for a certain kind of "Bible-based, Christ-centerered"-ness. My preaching is Bible based and Christ-centered -- but probably not in the same way the speakers of those phrases mean it to be. I am feeling increasingly an exile within the Society of Friends. I'm neither theologically liberal enough to feel completely comfortable in aligning with FGC nor overly concerned with theological correctness to feel completely comfortable with the direction the Midwest yearly meetings seem to be heading. On the way home I continued to kick around an idea that I've long had and that I've shared with some other Friends.

I've wondered whether it may be time to create a new community of like minded Friends who are concerned about the drift to a rigid, credal orthodoxy and who want to stand firmly for openness to all Friends primarily in the pastoral tradition. The reason for a new group would be to support the particular culture and ethos of these largely pastoral Friends and to help us feel that we are not alone.

I see it as more of an association or alliance. It would be a place for "generous" (emergent church guru Brian McClaren's phrase) Quakers. All stripes of Quakers would be welcome -- Evangelical, liberal, middle, Republican, Democrat, city, rural -- so long as they would agree that is a place where we play nice and respect the breadth and depth of diversity and the powerful potential of a revitalized Quakerism in the 21st century. It would be a movement toward good stuff that unites us as vital Friends meetings and churches and moves beyond purity tests and so forth.

This group would not be a yearly meeting; it wouldn't entail local meetings leaving their yearly meetings. There would be no staff or offices (at least in the beginning). Any work that arose -- say a set of promotional materials or a website -- would have to grow organically from the "member" congregations and then funded by them. Like FGC's annual gathering, it would be more a place of fellowship -- perhaps with on-line, regional gatherings, and the occasional national gathering.

My good wife Nancy even came up with a name -- "Friends in Fellowship." I think that's good -- it implies some sense of unity, hospitality, and inclusion.