OBEDIENT TO THE LIGHT

Love won't settle for tolerance

2011-08-06T07:58:00.001-04:00

Philip Gulley spoke at the Carey Memorial Lecture here at BYM's annual sessions last night, and instead of the usual lively and intelligent lecture followed by an energetic question and answer period, we had a most unusual time: we were moved to a deep period of worship, in which a powerful presence punctuated by beautiful singing could be felt in the room.

For some of us it felt like a sign. We have been contemplating the evolution and transformation of the intervisitation committee, as on one end of the spectrum we feel the pinch of budget cuts and lack of committee members, and on the others a surge of new interest from other yearly meetings wanting to learn our model and new volunteers stepping forward during our sessions.

Philip challenged us, right from the theme of our own sessions:
Can we welcome the Divine? Can we welcome every person? Can we see the Light of God in each person? Are we talking about Love as God calls us to, or are we talking about that wishy washy half-way, not really doing it word: tolerance? Says Gulley: "No where in the gospels does it say to tolerate someone. Love says I will seek the best for you! It does not say I will put up with you!"

Amen!

We cannot be afraid to hear these words, for even though we fear them, they are the words of unity. If we believe in a loving God, and if we believe in ongoing revelation, we need to be open to the idea that God is transforming our world, even today. We need to be listening! But more than just listening we need to be prepared to act on God's love and to recognize the gifts that God has given to us and to others, and to help our friends to bring those gifts to fruition in the world.

Philip Gulley uses the story from Acts 8 about the disciple Philip baptizing the Ethiopian Eunuch to illustrate how the Holy Spirit may guide us to do things that we might think we "shouldn't" because the Law tells us not to. He urges us to look at the Spirit vs the Law much as the early Christians had to.

He also urges us to look at what God it is that we are worshipping: are we worshipping an anthropomorphic god that we have been carry through time that is based on the image of our forefathers in the Bible or our ancestors in our heritage? Or are we listening to the God who is still speaking, even today?

This is difficult and very frightening stuff to think about. It means we must search our own souls and the very depth of our beings. We must ask for clearness in our meetings, speak amongs ourselves, and say to each other: Are you sure? Are you sure that you are practicing the true Love of God and not just toleration? Are you absolutely sure that the love you practice is not just tolerance that hides underneath it a hatred or worse yet a hidden fear that you have been too frightened to look at because deep down inside you think surely God cannot help me with this?

We have got to learn to sit with each other in deep, deep worship and acknowledge our hurts and our fears and yes, our secrets. I have heard a few things this week that have really stuck with me:

Ask youself: Is this the work that God would have me do?
Ask it when you are tempted to take precious time to argue over pennies, or take to make a phone call that could be spent with your toddler, or argue in monthly meeting when you could be attending to an important issue, or to the budget.

Am I loving or tolerating my brother or sister?

Who is my brother or sister, if there is that of God in everyone?

Does my life reflect the work that God would have me do?

Am I doing all I can to help abolish the hurts and acknowledge the gifts of my brothers and sisters, to bring the love and light of the God of my understanding into this world?

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF YOUR INPUT ON THE QUERIES AND MEETING FOR WORSHIP FOR BUSINESS

2010-12-04T21:06:00.001-05:00

We have a long tradition in our meeting, of holding each month's query in the Light, discussing it among our family, perhaps at meals, or at family prayer or worship time, and then, as it was raised at Meeting for Worship for Business, Friends who felt moved might rise and give a message that had been powerfully called out by Spirit moving among them in their time of consideration of the query, that it might be entered in the permanent record of the Monthly Meeting. By recording their voices, we understood what our ancestors believed, and how we passed down to each generation the continuing revelation of our beliefs as they evolved.

For members of the Religious Society of Friends, belief is not a static thing, to preserved forever in a block of stone, immovable and unchangeable. We believe that in the same way that God spoke to Moses and to Jesus, he still lives in us and speaks to us.Revelation is ongoing and it is the business of our lives to be listening at every moment, in every decision of our lives.

It is the responsibility of every member and attender of the Monthly Meeting to be at the Meeting for Worship for Business. Business is conducted in the manner of worship to allow all present to listen corporately for the voice of God as it is present. The more of the body of the Meeting who are present, the more likely we are to hear the voice of God as it is meant to be heard by our particular Meeting, in how we are meant to act. As Clerk of our Meeting, I don't take this lightly! We cannot function without YOUR HELP!

Please help us be a whole community by participating in your small portion as a member of that body, thereby contributing to the whole of the discernment of the Meeting. We cannot do it without you.!

Are You Ready?

2010-08-09T13:10:00.000-04:00

At the end of the week at Annual Sessions, what I could honestly admit was that I had not been ready when I arrived. I'd skipped the retreat for financial reasons, and so I entered the first day of business in the large auditorium of the performing arts center, a new venue for us, less than spiritually grounded. Almost every other year since I've started attending the full week of Annual Sessions, I've made the retreat a part of my routine and I can now say that is a necessity for me. It sets the pace and spiritually sets one into the setting God expects for a worshipful attitude. Without it, I felt I was not on course with the rest of the sailors.

The other thing I did differently was to get a single room. My reasoning was that I wanted the privacy to write and blog more during the course of the week. This was my intent, however, I should have planned ahead of time in this case to connect with others that I wanted to converse with. Since I was not coming to sessions with a traveling companion as in years before, I found that in times I had alone, I missed the time taken to process with my companion, and I lacked a person to do so with. My friends from Hopewell Centre who were in attendance at BYM were very involved with their own committee work, and I ended up with a lot of alone time on my hands and instead of writing, I ended up reading or sleeping. One could make a case that I needed that time too, but being the extrovert I am, I realized that process time before writing time is a must for me.

By the end of the week, I connected up with the folks in the Intervisitation Committee Lounge, and that is when I finally felt grounded. As much as I'm trying to cultivate the introvert side of my personality, it was in the conversations with this group, listening as much as conversing, that I finally began to make sense of all the input from my week. I needed the hearty back and forth with people to begin making sense of how all the pieces of the week fit together. And yes, fitting the pieces together is an important thing to me. Some are content to let the pieces be the pieces. but to me, there must always be a reason to the rhyme, and aha! there came to be so. I also realized that intervisitation ought to be on my list fo first things to do when I move on eventually from being Clerk of my monthly meeting, as there's so much to be gained from the interchange with others from outside our own area.

Are you ready? Was the question asked by the narrator, writer and founder of the Theatre for Transformation, Dr. Amanda Kemp, as she took us on the slave journey based on the correspondence of black poet Phyllis Wheatley and slave Obour Tanner In Sister, Friend an incredible theatrical performance which young and old alike experienced on Wednesday afternoon. We of BYM had taken up that call as our own by the end of the week, asking each other, "Are you ready,": as we embarked on each new piece of business, whether it be settling the books, doing business with young Friends, writing a minute to the US president, or having fun at the coffeehouse.

So much to say...about what we learned about our own limitations in confrontating our racism and classism, about the Young Friends and how they continue to teach us; about the growth between liberal and conservative Friends and how we are learning to love and respect each other, about my own experience with being eldered and learning to season my words before I speak, about balancing budgets and moral vs financial imperatives. I could and will go on and on... but not here and now. The theme of Baltimore Yearly Meeting's Annual Sessions was the Lessons Learned from History. On the surface, it looked like we were talking about racism, but the lessons went so much deeper than that. Oh my! I have so much to tell you!

So as I bring that all out, "Obedient to the Light" will be an active blog again, and I will welcome your feedback and conversation too! A blog is not a blog without dialogue. It was certainly a pleasure to see so many of you at annual sessions and it will be a pleasure to keep up the conversation here and on your blogs and on facebook as well. (And incidentally, on the blogs which our friend Jim Rose has set up for each and every BYM meeting at the bym website!)

Blessings to you all.

A religious SOCIETY of friends

2010-06-17T06:50:00.001-04:00

Friends, my cause in writing today is brief. It is to ask you to respond to a few queries that have come to mind in the past few days as I read blogs by others. Some know that I am doing research on Quakers and community and reading journals of early Friends and the communities they established as they pushed out into the wilderness that was early America, including the area I now call my home in the Shenandoah Valley. This is not easy going, because early Friends did not have to think about living in community, it was simply who and what they were and how they functioned. So, keeping that in mind, please consider responding to a few simple queries:

What was the meaning of forming the "Religious Society" of Friends?

What is the meaning of belonging to a Religious Society of Friends for us today?

Is there a difference between living in community and being a part of a religious society of Friends?

Is there a difference between being a Quaker and being a part of the Religious Society of Friends, for you personally?

What is the significance of community to you in your experience of being a Friend? How much does it shape your experience of being a Friend?

Please respond to these queries in light of being a convinced or birthright Friend, or an attender or seeker, if you feel so moved, and from the perspective of the "branch" of Friends you are a part of if that feels part of your experience as well.
You may respond to me here on my blog, or privately at linda.j.wilk@gmail.com, whichever feels more right to you.

You will be helping me to address my own inner questions, and you will be helping me to direct the queries I am asking myself as I seek both back and history and forward in our future direction for who we are as a faith community.

Thank you for your assistance, Friends.

Living my Calling means Living IN Community (sigh)

2010-05-24T11:06:00.000-04:00

It's been quite a long time since I've written here. The reason is a depression that had been dogging my every step for months, that finally sapped my strength and took me down. It took me away from meeting, my friends, my work, nature, and most things I enjoyed, before I realized I wasn't just going to "buck up," that I needed a little extra help in the form of doctors and medication, and that spiritually I'd been doing just about the opposite of the things I'd been needing to do to get the help I needed. As I get a little more fluent in the metaphor of the Bible and other religious language, I realize that the devil really did have me, and demons were separating me from the One that could heal me. I also was making matters worse by believing the voices in my head that were telling me that I would only make everyone and everything worse by inflicting myself on my my worship community. I was better off home in bed.

This is significant and bears talking about. This morning, as I read Philip Gulley's Monday morning refreshment, Passages (http://philipgulley.org/Secure%20Sermon/Passages%201.pdf) he was talking about driving the state highways instead of the interstates, and finding the milemarkers that remind us of the historic events that happened there. Drawing parallels to the historic markers of our own lives, he drew me back to a time I got off the interstate in Wheeling WV and decided to take the scenic state highway to discover the more interesting state roads in my new home of West-by-god-Virginia. I was totally unprepared for the heights and depths of unguard-railed roads to which this detour would take me. Eight and one half hours later, on an otherwise 2.5 hour interstate worth of drive, we drove down into a holler.

Greeted by a state policeman, who told use he was checking cars for drunk drivers and licenseless locals, I remember my first thought was fear, as in memories of Deliverance. Our green-gilled children peeled themselves off the floor and peered over the headrests to whine, "Where arrrrre we?" The sheriff, in his flat-top haircut, holding his hard-brim cowboy hat, said, "Whyyy, Welcome to Possum Holler, Yung-uns!" We'd long since missed my missed my uncle's funeral on the eastern shore of Maryland, and we stil had 3 or 4 hours more to the eastern panhandle, and without this fine officer's help, we would never have navigated the terrain to the nearest straight road, or eaten solid food again.

That's a lot like my journey this winter. I had a lot of plans for the hibernating months, for redecorating, crafting, writing, cleaning and visiting. As my spirits plummeted, I checked them off the list, and in my denial, I told myself they weren't that important. I cancelled committee meetings, and as I grew more aggravated with what felt now like demands, not requests, I rationalized that the committees of our meeting out to snap to it, and do the works they were supposed to and not leave it all to the clerk. Instead of seeking refuge in the meeting, I hid out.

When I was pursuing my pastoral counseling degree, I learned a great phrase, "regression in the service of the ego." It means that when we get stressed, we go back to our earlier ways of coping, to take care of our selves. In my case, as I got more and more depressed, I went back to the ways I coped at younger and younger ages. Finally I reached my youngest memories, as an early reader. When my parents would fight, I would take the family flashlight, hide under the covers, and read.

Well, let me tell you, at the end of this depression I was up to five five-hundred page mysteries per week, plus a non-fiction book or two thrown in so I could say I was doing real work. It was great. I read Sharyn McCrumb's Appalachian mysteries and caught myself up on some of the great tales of which the great Appalachian ballads are made. I read all the NY bestsellers and most of their previous bestsellers. I read the obscure writers that people write obscure reviews about. I re-read my favorite, Irene Allen's Quaker series set at Cambridge Mass MM. I read every, yes every Jonathan Kellerman Alex Delaware Forensic Psychologist (my hero) mystery.

Finally, I ran out of mysteries and money. So I had to start re-reading non fiction favorites. Among them was Thomas Kelley and Parker Palmer. This is the kind of thing that brings you to remember that the God our our Understanding (Thank you God!) is still working even when our bodies are not. I was re-reading A Hidden Wholeness when I discovered the words:

A strong community helps people develop a sense of true self, for only in community can the self exercise and fulfill its nature: giving and taking, listening and speaking, being and doing. But when community unravels and we lose touch with one another, the self atrophies and we lose touch with ourselves as well. Lacking opportunities to be ourselves in a web of relationships, our sense of self disappears, leading to behaviors that further fragment our relationships and spread the epidemic of inner emptiness. (p. 39)

Gulp!

I felt a little green, like my kids looked when we drove out of those mountains. Not only had I made a wrong turn somewhere, but in thinking I'd taken a better way, I had misjudged and thrown myself sooooo far off course, that it was difficult to see the way back.

I needed help. That much was clear.

I went to a few different places. First was a doctor for the obvious medical advice and attention.
Second, I sent out a note to my clearness committee. I said, "I've been suffering from depression, and I really need some support. I'm seeking medical help, but I need help to get back on track with my ministry, my place in meeting, and I need to be accountable to you all."
They responded promptly and graciously and my anxiety came down about 100 points as soon as that meeting was scheduled. Clearly we should not be on this voyage called life alone.

Among the many other things I read in A Hidden Wholeness was a story about a man who attended Parker's Circle of Trust Retreat for many season's and was silent for them. In keeping with the parameters of the Circle of Trust, he was not pushed to speak or respond or participate beyond what felt safe for him. This helped me to see that what I needed was to attend meeting, to be a part of the Light that I always feel when I am in corporate worship, and that I needed to completely remove any inner or external pressure I might feel, from myself, in order to allow myself to bask in healing Light, so that healing might occur as could, beyond what my intellect could imagine. In other words, I needed to return to meeting for worship.

As many of you may know, when one has broken the habit of going to weekly worship, returning to it is easier said than done. This may be the strongest case for going every week. Spiritual discipline carries with it the simplest measure, that if we are in the habit, when we need it we will go because it is simply what we do. Now, it was NOT what I did, so I had to apply some measure of strength against the demons and voices to get myself to move in the direction of firstday worship. I had to quiet my anger against individuals who had annoyed or agitated me, quiet my demons who had pained my joints, vexed my body, slowed my musles, and simply move slowly in the direction of the meeting. I told myself, I do not have to speak, I do not have to be sociable, I do not have to be Nice, I simply have to sit and listen. And I went.

I arrived early, I sat and I closed my eyes, so that I would not have to explain or say hello, or do anything I was not prepared to do. And God was there waiting! I fell instantly into deep prayerful worship, and felt a deep sense of relief as I heard the footfalls of those entering after me. I felt the spirits of those gone before entering too. I knew when certain elders entered, I could feel their particular sense fill the meeting. It felt like home. I felt loved and held, and I began to weep.
Thoughts began to flow, and scripture, and I tried to release each thought and let it flow. The feeling the returned again and again was gratitude.

I am so very, very blessed. I have a place to come home to. In a harsh land, full of harsh realities, of death and poverty and war and darkness, I have a community that spans the globe, that seeks to be peaceful and simple and to live with integrity. And though I may be overcome with life at times, all that I need to be restored is to worship as one among you, that I may know the God of our understanding and dwell in the Peace that passeth all understanding.

Life takes over (as it should)

2010-04-12T07:49:00.000-04:00

When I started reading The Last Week by Borg and Crossan, I had no idea (as we never do) of what was waiting in the wings of my life. My friend Bob had gracefully passed onto the next phase of his life, things were sprouting in the greenhouse, and it seemed to be the perfect time for a week long furlough into intellectual/spiritual musing. Ah, but the best laid plans...

It has been my first time as Clerk of Hopewell Centre of being involved with the life, dying, death and memorial planning for a Friend. Also my first time of doing something like this since I declared out loud that God has called me to ministry. Sometimes just the naming of a process gives it a whole new feel, and this was one of those times.

Where before I might have said, "This is just too much for me to be involved in," and pulled back, I now felt I had a responsibility to be Present. Not just a responsibility; I wanted to be present.
Where once I might have glossed over things, performing the perfunctory tasks, I now found myself anticipating the needs of others, and desiring to go the extra mile, to seek where I might be of help, to encourage others to do the same.

It was a blessing of the greatest gifts to me as much to others. I received the opportunity to "officiate" at the graveside, to deliver a prayer, some scripture and some words of comfort. My first reaction to being asked was fear, but that was quickly replaced by a calm fortitude, as it was not me that had this work to do, but the inner Light, ministering through me.

Lest you think I have been spirited off to some other-worldly plane, I must tell you quickly that the acceptance of the gift of ministry has by no means wiped my slate clean of human frailty. Along with the acceptance of responsibility, came my the surfacing of my most common human traits: control, anxiety, misspoken words of correction, loss of patience, and an overwhelming sense of being more "right" than others.

So being a minister does not free one of one's humanness? Alas, as even Jesus knew, this is not the case. But my friend Bob, even in his human absence, ministered to me in this case. His wife said,
"Where is that scripture Bob liked, Whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's? You can read that graveside, right?"

And so I went to Romans 14:

Romans 14

The Weak and the Strong

¹Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. ²One man's faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. ³The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him. ⁴Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand. ⁵One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. ⁶He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord. He who eats meat, eats to the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and he who abstains, does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God. ⁷For none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone. ⁸If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.
⁹For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living. ¹⁰You, then, why do you judge your brother? Or why do you look down on your brother? For we will all stand before God's judgment seat. ¹¹It is written:
   " 'As surely as I live,' says the Lord,
   'every knee will bow before me;
      every tongue will confess to God.' "^[a] ¹²So then, each of us will give an account of himself to God.
¹³Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother's way. ¹⁴As one who is in the Lord Jesus, I am fully convinced that no food^[b] is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for him it is unclean. ¹⁵If your brother is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love. Do not by your eating destroy your brother for whom Christ died. ¹⁶Do not allow what you consider good to be spoken of as evil. ¹⁷For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, ¹⁸because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and approved by men.
¹⁹Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. ²⁰Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All food is clean, but it is wrong for a man to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble. ²¹It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother to fall.
²²So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves. ²³But the man who has doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.

And I read, and I read again, and I sat and I thought. And I laughed a little and gazed upward at the point where I imagined my white bearded Friend and his invisible, inperceivable, beyond that which is knowable Friend were laughing with each other, as they gazed down at me.

And I asked the forgiveness of myself, my God, and my friends for my erratic behavior, and once again tried to return to the humble place the Light had carved out to me, where I could be of some better service than my humanness had planned.

I can only be the best me that I can be. "And we are all being the best me's we can be," my friend Bob whispers in my ear, "and that is why we should do all the good we can, and do the least judging we can, and the most loving."

Yesterday I sat with my women friends after meeting for worship, and "debriefed" my experience of the memorial: all the things I felt could have been done differently, all the things we thought went well, and most of all, all the ways I wished I had behaved more graciously. We all were of one mind: that Bob's memorial was beautiful, that everything went just as he had planned it, and that we were all grateful to be present.

In the end we all came to the same conclusion: There is no way to anticipate every need, address every person in their individual personalities, define and list every process, meet every individual at their own very unique place. It is impossible. There is only one way to be "good enough."

One must live to the Lord. As in the example of Jesus, the Buddha, Mohammed, the many wonderful early saints, George Fox, Isaac and Mary Penington, Thomas Kelly, and so many of the Friends we encounter every day, the only way to be truly present is to live in the manner we belong to God.

If I cultivate a loving spirit that is in kinship with that of Jesus as he walked the earth, it does not mean that I will not make mistakes, that I will not lose my temper or say the wrong thing. But there is certainly a greater chance that those I encounter will encounter the Light through me. If in my daily practice, I endeavor to not judge others, to bring a spirit of Love, and to live to the Lord, then there is certainly a greater opportunity for me to meet God in them. This is the making of peace.

My friends, on the day of Bob's memorial and wake, I saw more faces of God than I might ever have seen before. And it was good.

What was Jesus' intent?

2010-03-31T06:25:00.000-04:00

Friends, I must confess that this trip through Jerusalem, exploring The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem, has not been so immediately enlightening as I hoped. It is not that the book has failed, it is that all my years of wimping out on Greek and Hebrew study because I was a "pastoral counselling" student has come back to haunt me.

Now I find that I'm faced with a relatively scholarly book that is written for the popular market, and each place I read a translation of Scripture, I am picking up my NRSV translation and finding it wanting. The book is based on a more up-to-date reading based on both archaeology and reading of original language text, and focuses more on the book of Mark, as the earliest accounting of the story. Even Mark was writing 70 years after the events, and writing knowing of the destruction of the Temple that occurred in his own era. So the story is a delicate teasing out of history, to discern the "true" history of the time.

I like what I find, I'm just not sure whether to trust it. It's hard to give up one's lifelong held version of Jesus' life, even if it is in favor of a version that more suits my life today. I want to believe what I am reading: that Jesus was an activist, and that many of his movements, even in this last week, were planned fulfillment of the prophecies, meant to call attention to important lessons for the people, about following their true leader, rather than the Romans.

I've just spent an amazing amount of my life being in dialogue with the 'suffering servant' interpretation of Jesus, and it has not always been pretty. The salvific model of Jesus life, leading up to his death and resurrection on the cross, has not really had much meaning for me. I must admit, however, that since it is the Cross that was the focus of my Christian upbringing, this book calls me to see how much time I have spent rebelling from the beliefs of my childhood, a fact that perhaps deserves a little more attention.

So Borg and Crossan have caught my eye, in a way I didn't expect. They have put the part of me that believes in the work of Jesus' life, in direct conversation with the part of me that was raised to believe (and rejected) his death. I'm know this is not by accident. I'm tired of pretending to stand for something, to be polite in certain circles, and I'm ready to have this dialogue.

In my reading of this Last Week, I am at Tuesday night, and so far, my first surface reading has uncovered the powerful messages of Jesus as a countercultural leader, on his Pam Sunday entry into Jerusalem as the peaceful presence counter to Herod's military domination. On Monday, I view his work as a challenger of the status quo, as the Temple has been degraded to a pitiful amalgamation of Roman and Jewish allegiances that serve no one but the rich. Here he fulfills the prophecy that the Temple shall become as a "den of robbers." On Tuesday he continues to grapple with both the Priests and the Romans in the temple, calling attention to their own inconsistencies, and deliberately putting himself into more confrontations that fulfill the Jewish prophecies. Borg and Crossan tell us however, that Mark struggles here to inject meaning that has more relevance for the later destruction of the Temple, so I am left to tease out that which is appropriate to Jesus' life that week.

It is a much more difficult task than I expected. I can only tell you today that I am halfway through this week, and I do not know how Jesus' life, seen from this perspective, will end. It is a much more exciting and active week than I have previously thought. Without viewing the week through the Cross, I am free to see more of the message Jesus may have intended his peope to see, the spiritual message of listening to the Light, to the Divine, rather than falling prey to the fierce, fearsome violence surrounding the Jerusalem that was under domination of the Romans.

I'll continue to read and write, but I can tell you already that this new perspective, while familiar to my innate understanding, will take more than just this week to digest.

PALM SUNDAY 2010

2010-03-28T08:50:00.001-04:00

This morning, thanks to my Ffriend Michael Newheart, I had a chance to read a blog about the book by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, called The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus' Final Week in Jerusalem. It gave me a new look at Palm Sunday, one that is much more closely related to my journey as a Friend.

Michael Westmoreland-White's blog (http://pilgrimpathways.wordpress.com/2010/03/27/palm-sunday-anti-imperialist-street-theatre/) tells us that this book reveals:
"When we celebrate Palm Sunday, we don’t just remember the fickle crowds (so soon to desert Jesus, along with the 12) and their brief recognition/celebration of Jesus’ triumphal entry. We also remember that Jesus presents us with a deliberate choice: Following His Way of meekness, humility, and peace or the Way of Empire and military might. There is no Way to follow Jesus that does NOT break from the military option."

Wow! I'm going to have to read this book. I struggle so much with the meaning of the resurrection and the cross to my own life, compared to the obvious meaning I find in the example of Jesus' life. This simple couple sentences has opened a door wide, to see more of the radical change of Jesus presence in people's lives, even on the way to the cross.

I don't have much more to say right now, except, stay tuned. I'm going to purchase and read this book this week, my humble tribute to the Lenten season. When I feel a leading this strong, the best I can do is listen and obey. I'm looking forward to what develops.

This morning, in worship with my community, I will be contemplating "the contrast between Jesus’ entry into the East Gate of Jerusalem with Pilate’s military/imperialist entry into the West Gate of Jerusalem on the same day." I love having the opportunity to open my heart even more deeply to the experience of the peace that passes all understanding.

I invite you to do the same, and please, share your journey with me.

Palestine and Jerusalem...Pray for them all. Pray for US all.

2010-03-13T19:21:00.004-05:00

Recently a couple have joined our meeting, who are long term service workers, in the Quaker tradition, but for many different organizations. The man is a native Palestinian, who fled his country during the British Mandate for Palestine, which began the establishment of Israel. Forgive my ignorance of the historical events related to this post, for I am a youngster compared to this man and the events of his young life that included his forced flight to Lebanon, his subsequent conversion to Quakerism, and his life of deepy dedicated service to humanity and peace.

One statement has been ringing out, in my thoughts and dreams, since our meeting with this couple in their home. My friend told me of the shots of guns eradicating women, children and men of Deir Yassin (http://www.deiryassin.org/), a small village adjacent to Jerusalem, and how the loudspeakers announced to them that they must leave their homes or suffer the same consequences as their neighbors.

This was 1948. WW II was barely over. Millions of Jews and other non-arians had been executed, experimented on, tortured, abused and violated at the hands of their enemies.
Then, as the world prepared to help Jewish people return to their historical and religious roots in their ancient homeland, still more people were executed to carry out the plan.

This has shocked and stunned me. First, I could not believe how ignorant of history I was, and how long I chose to stay ignorant. In the back of my mind, I must have known that somehow they had to move people to make room for the Jews to return to the land of their ancestors. But I chose to stay ignorant, because what lay under the surface was unthinkable.

Second, here sat a man before me, a man of peace. A man who had helped so many others who were poor and starving and had suffered at the hands of their own enemies, and had helped selflessly for much of his life. What motivates someone who has had it all taken away, who has been lucky to escape with his life, to go on, and more to reach his hand out to others. He had every reason to be bitter and angry, but he acted in kindness.

Third, how do people slaughter others in the name of peace? This has always been a question I ask. I have a friend who is a veteran of war in the middle east. In order to serve, to do one's duty, I realized in a conversation one day, that soldiers are systematically programmed to dehumanize the enemy, so in this person's eyes, an Arab, who looks like my friend is filthy, smells bad, is unintelligent, ignorant, and deserves to die. In my mind, I put these two people side by side. Meeting on this soil, in these times, they would most likely be friends. If they met in the middle east, one might have slaughtered the other without thinking.

I remember the first time I saw the old movie, All Quiet on the Western Front. It was a hallmark moment for me, when I realized through a touching scene in this movie that if we know each other as human beings, if we see each other through the eyes of family, community, friends, we cannot so easily kill each other. Long before I was convinced as a Friend, I saw that this ought to be one of my goals: to know and treat each person I encounter as my neighbor, no matter how brief the meeting.

Don't raise me to sainthood yet. This has proven to be far more difficult to live than I ever imagined in my idealistic youth. Carrying it with me has, however, has informed my thinking and my decisions. It has made me aware of the times I make a harsh judgement out of fear. It has shown me how the individualism of our culture affects my aim for peace. It has caused pain in my heart, when out of zeal or haste or selfishness, I brush another aside as unimportant, only to feel the consequences if I happen to catch their eye as I rush by.

Now, as a result of the little story my friend told me, of getting into his car with his relatives, with only the clothes on his back, and leaving his homeland, where he would never return for many, many years, I understand why there is so much enmity between the Israel and Palestine. Now I understand why the fighting seems it will never stop.

There are still things I don't understand, but I am still learning: Why the United Nations voted for the British Mandate, knowing so many people would have to be "displaced." How the Jewish people, who had just barely survived the holocaust, could close their eyes to the treatment of the Palestinians being forced to make way for them. How can anyone believe that God means for others to die for the edification of others?

We, the Quakers, are a people of peace. We believe that God (Jesus) is love, and that we should seek for that of God (love) in every person. Ideals, yes, but ones we strive for. My elder friend told me that Nasser met with the Quakers in Gaza, and tried to find ways to work out a peaceful resolution, but he died before his plans could become reality.

I have been touched deeply by hearing this story. I have been saddened, grieving for our world, where so much is black and white, wrong or right, all in absolutes. We need prayer. We need deep continuous soul-crying prayer. Pray for those who have, without conscience cast the first stone. Pray for those who are quick to judge, for those who rewrite history, for those who choose to remain ignorant.

I read a little parable this week, about a man who was asked why he did not judge a neighbor who had harmed him. "How can I judge him," he asked, "When I have never bowed my head to pray for him."

Jesus saved my Life

2010-03-05T06:45:00.002-05:00

This morning, reading Friend Johan's latest blog, Meeting Jesus Halfway, (http://johanpdx.blogspot.com/2010/03/meeting-jesus-halfway.html), I had one of the glorious revelatory "duh" moments. I thought I might share it with you here.

I have been railing and fighting the fundamentalists for much of my life. At one time I allowed them to force me from my church home. I went flying out into the desert, willing to face life alone rather than live with these "fools" who tried to tell me that in order to live in the spirit of Jesus the Christ, I too had to face the cross, to sacrifice myself and be reborn. I who had known a personal relationship with the God/Jesus of my understanding for my whole life, was told by Christian scholars that my theology was too simplistic, that it would not stand the tests of ministry, but not to worry, my seminary experience, while devilishly torturous, would raise my understanding to a scholarly level. The result: I left the pursuit of denominational ordination in another religion.

Years passed and I wandered in the desert. I still heard the voice of God saying, "You are a minister." But now when I heard it, all I wanted to say was, "Go away, leave me alone, Shut Up." Better to be alone than to worship the false idols of Christians, a God who could kill, albeit massacre people, in the name of salvation. A God whose leaders judged whether one's faith was suitable based on the letter of the law their own prophet had eschewed, rather than the proof of a life lived. I had no need for it.

There was only one problem: The still small voice would not go away. I busied my life doing good deeds, proving that I was a far better person than "those hypocrites." It doesn't take salvation to make a good person, I declared. I studied buddhist meditation, teachings of Judaism, read the Koran, explored native american rituals, always seeking. On the few occasions I became quiet, the voice would return, counseling quiet peace.

In that process of seeking, I came to a Quaker meeting. There on a rainy Sunday, I heard others rise and speak what they were hearing when they became quiet, and their accountings were remarkably similar to my own. In this very liberal part of the Quaker world, there were even people like me, who had felt abused in the name of Jesus, and didn't even care to say his name. My new Friends said to us, "Are you seeking a relationship with the God of your understanding?" "Yes..." "Then you are welcome to join us."

Gradually, I had the courage to listen again. There it was! The source of my guidance all the years before had not left me. Once again, I heard the clear yet simple direction of that inner leading, and I came to be convinced I was a Friend, that the voice was my Friend. It was one of the most peaceful and yet celebratory experiences of my life.

Sadly, it would take me many years to understand that this was the Jesus of which Johan speaks. I was too injured by the "Christians" who had tried to teach me the "right" way. Yet curiously, as the Light nurtured me and grew within me, I began to have less vehemence against those people, and more understanding that they like me were also seeking, yet were so fearful, that they could not stray from the Letter of the Law. What a sad existence, I thought.

The fallout of the abusive relationship I had with Christians has affected my relationship with the inner Christ all my life. I often do not trust him. I am afraid that if I follow he will lead me someplace where I might be abused or massacred. Because I do not trust him always, I do not trust you. So, just when I am at the edge of the most amazing spiritual revelation, I have been known to turn and run, not to be heard from for years.

It is only because of the love and nurturing of Quaker spiritual community that I have slowly come to understand that the voice of God, the inner Light, the living Christ, the unspeakable, call it what you will, is alive and accessible to me. I could not do it alone. Then I walked in the desert.

I could not do it following the Law. Then I feared certain death and destruction if I fell from the path.

Only in the quiet communion of like Friends, was I able to find the nurture to recover from the abuse of the Law.

I do not have to be a Christian to know Christ. I do not have to be a Buddhist, to know the Buddha. I do not have to be a Muslim to know Allah. I need to be me, and I need to listen.

If you think you are surely on the Path, and the Path calls you to tell another that they are Wrong, that they will surely perish if they go this way or that, that you have the Answer for them and you fear for their soul if they do not follow it, then you have surely lost your way. Stop and listen to that still small voice.

Jesus saved my life.

This Moment's Work

2010-02-14T20:57:00.002-05:00

My dear friend Bob is battling cancer. He's been living with cancer for over 20 years, and now it appears that he is turning the corner toward another stage in this battle, and though it certainly does not seem it will be in the too near future, we are all starting to face what Bob says is "inevitable for all of us."

He and his wife Judia and their daughter Hilary have been my friends for at least 12 years, and it is a difficult time for them, for me, and for our entire meeting. Bob has been an elder among us for as long as I can remember. When I first began attending Hopewell Centre, he was the Clerk. I hope that I will be able to share some stories about his life and service at Hopewell Centre with you, as time goes on.

Right now, in this moment, the blessing in my life is that Bob has asked me to help him with his memoirs. I have never had such an experience in my life. I've written about others, and about myself, but I have never written with another. The qualitative difference is this: that he being he and me being me, we cannot conspire to write together without affecting each other's spiritual paths in this exact moment and place. It is an extraordinary gift.

I had no idea it would be so. One morning I came to work with Bob, and he had just read one of my blog posts detailing my own separation and return to our monthly meeting. He had tears in his eyes, as he told me how redemptive my blog had been to him, and how it had helped him to realize his own part. He told me he had recommitted himself to our meeting, to do what he could in the time he had left.

I was amazed. I had not realized that he felt as he did, nor did I ever imagine that my writing or testimony could have such an effect on another.

Similarly, his writing and testimony has affected me, and will continue to affect me. In this moment, I daily have the experience of a sentence or a sharing touching me so deeply in my heart that I know God has put it there for my edification as well as Bob's. Sometimes Bob is sharing what is relatively innocuous for him, such as a story leading up to the point he is wanting to make, but I have tears come forth, because that "little ditty" as he calls it has touched a vulnerable part in me. I know in the depth of me that these little seeds will continue to sink in the soil, sprout and grow and bear fruit.

I've been aware for a long while now that we are losing the elders that I began at this meeting with, and with their dying, comes a loss of their presence and eldering, that can never be gotten back again. Yesterday, Bob said, "I sometimes wonder, if this event had happened even five years earlier, when Finney was in her prime, how it would have come out differently." This in reference to one of our dear recently departed elders who was a quiet, loving and stalwart presence to all of us.

We have lost the tradition of writing letters to our families and friends detailing the significant spiritual experiences and leadings that happen within our meetings. Our meeting for worship for business is rarely to have found within its minutes a testimony of a spiritual nature; more it is an accounting of the events and business only. Less and less are we witnessing to each other about our deep spiritual leadings and yearnings. Less and less are we likely to speak up saying that a particular practice or message does not fit the Spirit of our Meeting.

What does this have to do with a Friend battling with cancer? Simply this: Bob is yet another elder member who will leave our midst in an unknown, but short period of time. He has the Presence to anticipate this and is working on Memoirs that are more likely teachings that arise from his experience in and around the Meeting. They are an accounting of his spiritual life. In earlier times, it was a common practice for the children of a member to take the Friend's journal or writings and publish them in their honor. In this way, the leadings of that particular Elder were preserved for posterity.

Friend Finney's son, Jim Riley is a member of our meeting. Since her death in the past year, he has had occasion to go through the many papers and letters she left behind. He has found copies of old newsletters she edited, copies of meeting minutes from when she clerked, as well as very old copies of Faith and Practice from Baltimore Yearly Meeting, her own personal journal, and the journals of others before her. What an invaluable way to experience the world as Finney knew it.

Several other elders in our meeting have passed on in the last few years, and their families were not active in our meeting. As a result we do not have these records and stories to share with those who come after us. It is a great loss.

I think that in the absence of our previous habits of letter writing, recording of ministers and other documentation of traditions and leadings within our populous, we need to consider new ways to preserve our history. Several years ago at a Homecoming, we had a Friend who was versatile with a video recorder, who recorded messages and well wishes from Friends in attendance. Sadly, I don't know what has become of that treasured volume.

I'm wondering if we have become to careless in our throwing aside of traditions and records? Yes, we send our required minutes to the archives, but do we treasure and preserve our Elders teachings? How can we be open to ongoing revelation, yet not learn and respect our traditions? Are we in danger of losing our roots to our revelations?

I pray that, as I am learning from my friend Bob, we may all learn to be aware of each moment and the measure of Truth in it, and find a way to savor and remember that Truth. I pray we may preserve the lessons we learn so that we find effective ways to pass these lessons on to those who follow us. I pray that I may be an effective witness in documenting the teachings that are offered to me.

When do you Worship?

2010-02-10T08:15:00.000-05:00

"Blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe." Jesus says this to Thomas, after he has allowed him to touch his wounds. Doubting Thomas does not possess this essential element of faith. Do you?

In Helen Hole's 1962 Pendle Hill Pamphlet, "Prayer: The Cornerstone", Hole posits the position that a flourishing spiritual community depends on prayer as its foundation and nurture, the meeting's life blood.

Contrary to modern approaches, which often cite action (Faith without Works is dead), Ms Hole purports that prayer is the singular most important element of a faith community.

Early Christians did not exist in isolation. Always they were together as a loving worshipping community. Never was that community together that they were not in prayer. Through corporate prayer their faith grew vibrant and powerful, a source of creativity and strength. These people knew each other to the depth of their souls. Sharing the experience of knowing Jesus drew them to a level of love and trust that was clearly visible to those around them.

I have had the experience of knowing some Friends who had that level of knowing the inner Christ in such a way. I have known born-again Christians among all denominations who, in my estimation, have experienced that same knowing. There is a quality to their faith life that I do not always see among Friends. (I am not speaking of blind followers, eyes glazed over in total surrender.) I'm speaking of the people we meet who are clearly living life as Jesus would. Many of these people are the elders in our communities. They are most certainly the people who are happy where they are, at any moment, living life fully.

I'm conscious of the absence of prayer from many meetings for worship I attend, and of the strained, brief silences before committee and business meetings, that barely allow time for one to center, much less seek the will of God. I'm refreshed at Yearly sessions, when I enter the meeting room which is already prayerfully silent, and am encouraged to sink into that deep seeking from which my inner direction flows.

I love knowledge, and I seek it actively. I'm an avid reader, listener of NPR and PBS, and I seek out fellow life-long learners. I'm never at a loss to find these people in my Quaker community. I'm surprised however, how many of these people I observe to be uncomfortable with silence. I have watched as people sit uncomfortably with the silence before our Meeting for Worship for Business, impatient that we get on with it. I've watched committee meetings wind out of direction when not started in the silence of centered worship. I've listened to countless discussions about Quaker Process, all attending to the human part of the process, some without even acknowledging the Presence that guides us in all things.

I've had my own journey with this over the years. I've had to struggle to develop a life of daily spiritual reflection, and still I lose it at times when stress is high or illness looms. I lean back on my intellectual self, bolstered by ego-confidence into believing it has all the answers. At such times, it is only in desperation that I return to the silence.

And what does the Lord require of you? To do justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

Lately I've been thinking of early American Friends, and of the time before phones and email and blogs. Much of what we know of our Quaker ancestors comes from the letters found in attics, that Friends wrote to each other and to their families, apprising them of life in what was often a newly discovered wilderness. Through these reports, we came to understand how inextricably tied were their community, worship and prayer.

Seeking was not a separate task, separate from the activities of one's life, another task on the daunting list.

Friends worshipped when they came together for meals, with prayer and silence; they formed whole communities around the meetinghouse, as they settled in new areas; they worshipped as they worked together to build each other's homes, harvest fields, fell trees and celebrate life and death together. Their experience of worship was daily and ongoing. It is something many of us seek today, and many of us set aside in lieu of the 'business' of daily life. When do you worship?

When I read the blogs of others, I find that many are seeking this fullness of a life lived in worship and prayer. The mysticism that is inherent in Friends' religious experience is not one that requires cloistering or monasticism; instead our mysticism is found in the life lived in prayer and daily devotion, and in the sharing of that life in community with others.

Slowly I come to see that faith is not sought, it is lived. It is a paradox. One must believe to see the fruits of one's faith, yet one must act faithfully in order to come to belief.

Early Christians had the amazing experience of living in the time of Jesus' message and life. Even if they did not meet Jesus directly, they undoubtedly came in contact with people whose lives had been directly touched, and then they, seeing this, were touched themselves. Evangelism was not a sales pitch, it was a direct result of living one's faith and helping others see God through one's life.

Early Friends had the experience of seeing George Fox' and others' experience of knowing intimately the inner Christ, the Light, and they were touched by this significant yet simple outpouring of faith to seek that personal relationship themselves. Friends knew that only through living their faith could they show others the value of coming into direct relationship with God.

Nowadays, we civilized and educated Quakers have sometimes even been scornful towards those who are of too simple a faith, those who believe too readily and fall back on the Bible too easily. We sometimes feel foolish thinking of standing to pray in front of others. We are squeamish of telling others we have a leading, or taking an unpopular stand in Meeting, even when that inner voice is whispering fervently to us to do so.

Here is the gift of faith: that each of us is doing the very best that we can do to be the very best we can be. There is no wrong way, if one takes one's leadings to their faith community. In the loving community, we are praying and seeking and guiding and always turning to listen, seeking in the silence the ever-present Teacher.

Much of my life, I, living in the shadows of the judging God I was taught about, haver shrunk from my leadings, fearing doing the "wrong" thing. Here is the gift of faith: that in living in community, with an ear always turned to God, we may be supported, loved, uplifted, guided, eldered and nurtured.

This is the meaning in Isaac Penington's quote: "Our life is love, and peace, and tenderness; and bearing one with another, and forgiving one another, and not laying accusations one against another; but praying one for another, and helping one another up with a tender hand."

This gift is freely given, yet we must be willing to receive. When do you worship?

Come with me and I will make you...

2010-01-15T21:46:00.000-05:00

"The early Friends were experiencing something so totally new, that it rocked them. It was so big and life-changing that they were willing to die for it, to be tortured, to be put in prison, to have the right to listen expectantly for the voice of Christ and worship together waiting for direction."

Something on this order was said in a committee meeting I attended last week, and it has been with me ever since, dogging me, ripping open my own status quo. The speaker said he doubted he would have the courage those early Friends had, that he was not sure if he would go the distance or quietly leave and go worship in the church the state dictated, were we to be told we had to give up our religion today.

We were talking about how 'milk-toast' Quakers have become compared to our forebears. We were talking about the notion of people who felt so called to ministry that they felt they had no choice but to travel in ministry to others, like the early apostles.

'Come with me and I will make you fishers of men.' They laid down their nets and followed, so powerful was the felt response. Is there anything that speaks so powerfully today?

Then my fellow committee member asked, "What is there that could call us to that kind of strength and devotion today?"

My mind has not been quiet since.

I can say that over the years, I have tried to deny my calling to ministry. Whole years, maybe even a decade have gone by where I was successful, feeling safer and more productive following the cultural norm of career, family, husband, children, house, dogs, car. Once a pastor even said to me, "Maybe your calling is to be a wife and mother," and I sighed relief, left seminary, and put the voice away for a year or more.

But always the inner voice returns, 'You are a minister.'

I confess, I don't even really know what that means. We are all ministers. I want a little more info here, God...just what do you mean by that?

So I have a calling. I'm coming to see that many of us do. The question is whether we listen, and even bigger, what do we do?

And now I'm asking, 'If our government outlawed ministry without a license, would I have the courage to minister?'

What is it that could deliver to me the power to stand up so strongly for what I believe?

Would the destruction of the planet be enough for me to consider taking myself off the grid and living a life that demonstrates simplicity?

Would the war efforts ever become so immoral to me that I would consider facing prison by denying payment of my taxes to a government that has become unethical and power-hungry?

Would ministering to the poor ever become so omnipresent that I would leave my home, give away my possessions and put my life in danger to be of assistance?

I know there are Friends and others who do these things. I know there are people who stand up to power and put their lives in danger. I believe this is something of what the convergent Friends movement is about. I even knew one person who lost his life to his beliefs.

But it is rare in our world. Mostly we are middle-class or more, comfortable, housed, (dare I say it) white, and middle of the road. I am one of you.
Even though I hear that voice calling me to ministry, most of the time I am content to sit in meeting, to do internal things that feed my spiritual need but do not take me out of my comfort zone.

So it was a good thing to have this passing remark rock me.
Now instead of just hearing the voice that says, 'you are a minister,'
I hear: "You are a minister, what are you going to do about it?"

What is it that is powerful enough that it could call you to move beyond your comfort zone and make a life-altering difference in your world?

Community and Responsibility

2010-01-14T11:02:00.001-05:00

In true community, we will not choose our companions, for our choices are often limited by self-serving motives. Instead our companions will be given to us by grace. Often they will be persons who will upset our settled view of self and world. In fact, we might define true community as the place where that person we least want to live with always lives! (Parker Palmer, in A Place called Community, PH Pamphlet 212)

A number of years ago I experienced what would become a pivotal event in my spiritual life. It was directly a part of my experience of living in community with my monthly meeting and experiencing all of our limitations to do so. It brought my idealistic view of what living in community meant directly into conflict with the reality of the limitations of our community. I could not reconcile it in my mind, and the result was a journey that still continues, a journey of resolution, dissolutionment, acceptance and commitment.

Growing up in an insular small town farm community, in a severely dysfunctional family of origin and extended family, I suppose I came by my desires for a different kind of community honestly. It would not be unfair to say that I was seeking what I lacked in my life, and that I was deeply attracted to the notion of intentional community as a corrective for the felt losses of my early life. It is also true that I found the commune efforts I sought out in the 70s to be lacking in spiritual center. This then was the covenant I brought to Friends when I became convinced: I will give you my all, and I will help you to build community, in return, I expect you to accept the underdog (like me) and to help right the injustice of the world. In fairness, I must say that it is only in retrospect that I can see this.

Still, it makes me wonder: What are the covenants we each carry with us when we join a spiritual community? I am fairly certain none of us entertains the thought as we start out that Parker Palmer posits: that true community is the place where the person we least want to live with will be found. Rather, the opposite is more often true, that we are seeking a community of like minded individuals where we can feel supported, loved and nurtured.

In fact, I didn't know that I desired anything different until a convicted sexual offender, who had served his time, gone through three psychological rehabilitation programs, and been released from prison, began to attend our meeting. At first none of us knew his history, and we experienced him as a rather eccentric but very intelligent man, with a gift for music and story, and a vast knowledge of Quaker history which was a gift to our second hours of worship. He had elected not to tell us at first, as he'd been summarily rejected from other communities and was trying a different way. I wondered when we asked him to share his music with the youth program and he declined. His history would only come into the public light gradually as he took the risk to share with some individuals, and eventually publicly when he was recognized by some members of a distant meeting he'd been written out of, at an annual session gathering. There, alarm was the resounding feeling, and he was asked to leave the session.

The accounts that follow would differ from person to person in our meeting, and I can really only tell mine, as it has evolved over the years. My purpose here is not to find fault or right or wrong in this matter, or to open wounds, but to expound on my personal journey and what it has brought me to in my understanding of true community.

I fell into prayer when I heard the news of my friend being put out of annual session. In this time of silent expectation, I heard that I should be a voice for the person, as our meeting had asked him to not attend while we sorted out the path we should take. I did not seek clearness on this with others, my first misstep in my community. Instead, in our emergency meeting I announced that I felt the man should have a voice, and that God had called me to be this voice.

I was unprepared for the outrage and indignation that followed. In taking the voice of the person, I had unwittingly become the target for all the feelings our community was experiencing: victimization, betrayal, fear, anger, and a host of other feelings. Not all of the community felt this negative response, and as a result we became polarized. Moreover, one friend felt so threatened that she felt obliged to warn me off that night, and I responded with a human, not god-led reaction of righteous indignation and anger.

I believe now that in that moment I lost my ability to be the voice of Spirit. I began responding out of my own fear and feelings of injustice, not from the place God was calling me. However, it would take years for me to see this clearly. I was feeling so defensive, that I was not open to eldering or leading from other members who tried to offer me help. Now I had begun to be a part of the problem, not a part of the solution as I believe God intended me to.

I am grateful that I did not abandon the meeting during this time, as continuing revelation and leading from the Light has brought me to a much deeper understanding as the years following have evolved. If it is true, as Parker shows us, that true community is God's attempt to help us grow and evolve, this was truly a potential growth experience for our entire meeting. Would that I had committed to a clearness committee then as I have now, and this journey might have been much clearer on my part. Some who fled the meeting in fear for themselves of their children, have, in my observation, not nearly reached the peace that God has graced me with.

It was a sad, sad time for our meeting. Our visiting Friend fared not much better, except that the salvation of this event was a core group who continued to meet with him, off the meeting property, to help him to find a place to worship, and to clarify his responsibility in the series of events. I believe we were able to help him gain some insight in to his responsibilities in community: to care for his own mental health, to be honest and forthright in entering a new community, to uphold the tenants of his parole, and to work to seek God's truth for himself. Eventually we did find a worship group which had no children as a part of it, where he was welcomed in.

I grieved that we could not find a way to incorporate him into our own meeting. It is not that I did not share the fears for our children, and for others who felt unsafe with him in our midst. It is that I strongly felt that we do not choose our neighbors or community members, and that God had delivered this man to our midst for the purpose of our own spiritual growth. I could not reconcile my idealistic view of this with the realities of the spiritual life and community in our meeting and its individuals.

The first gift that came out of this event for me was the realization that in accepting that I had always been a Friend in my soul, I was also part of a much larger community, and that community was able to meet some of my deepest needs while my own home community could not. I went to the following annual sessions, bleeding from the woundedness I felt, seeking a vision or a message, or some hope that I could remain a Friend. I certainly did not feel worthy. Friends I did not know well seemed to sense my need, and I was brought to conversations and tasks that began to help me see that God was still leading me.

One friend sat with me over lunch one day and helped me to frame the event in the larger picture of our meeting and Friends in general. He was a person that I had previously found to be challenging and in this instance I found his kindness, gentleness and nurture to be somewhat of a paradox, albeit a welcome one.

Some friends who were members of our meeting that I had not been so close with before sat with me numerous evenings, helping me sort out my pain. Friends from neighboring monthly meetings experiencing similar dilemmas shared their experiences which were far different than ours. We brainstormed how issues could be addressed differently and how healing could be sought.

I was asked to serve in a number of tasks that brought to the Light my gifts rather than just my woundedness. In this, I began to feel the Light moving within me.

I left that annual session knowing that the god of my understanding was still present and ministering through the greater whole. It was a revelation that began my calling to understand what true community is.

I resolved to return to worship. I intuitively knew that if I did not resume my role as a part of the mystery that is Hopewell Centre, I could not contribute or receive healing. I went when I was able, but I did not yet understand that the healing for my anger, grief and woundedness could be found in sitting with the discomfort in corporate worship.

This is not the end of my story. It is only the beginning. After that first year, I came to worship whenever I could. I also sought other spiritual teachers outside of meeting. I had to come to terms with the idea that although I dearly needed clearness, something inside of me did not feel worthy of a clearness committee, or thought that the meeting had other more pressing needs than to minister to me. From the position of my woundedness, I could not feel anything but weakness and fear in seeking the help of others.

One or two members of the meeting emerged as my caregivers and mentors. Their gentleness allowed me to hear them, and as I healed, I began to hear the messages that had tormented me in a different light. I began to have compassion for those who had disagreed with me, and to cease competing for the “right” way.

Intuitively, I had always known that as we continued to worship, God would create something new in us. This is one of the most powerful elements of my faith: that there is much that is a mystery to us and can only be revealed through grace and our willingness to be shown something new.

Years before I became a Friend, I understood the power of community. It is simultaneously the glue that holds us together and the water that washes us and pulls us apart and shapes us into something new. As Friends perhaps the most unique gift we possess is our ability to sit in corporate silence, waiting for God to reveal to us what we must know to survive and evolve.

Now, through this desert experience, and the incredible prodigal return, I have begun to understand how integral this is to our survival of the planet and all of its inhabitants. I do not mean this in a grandiose way, but in the most simplest of ways. Community will call us to learn new ways to live together, if we let it.

What I desired was a community where we could welcome anyone brought to our doorstep as God's gift, possessing yet another kernel of light necessary to our wholeness. What I found was the reality that neither I nor most of our community had arrived at a point of acceptance of that gift.

I am a little closer now.

Thankfully, God has not stopped speaking to me and directing me. The call to understand true community has become stronger and stronger. It has begun to feel like a gift that we should offer ourselves and the world around us: to understand how standing in conflict and in love, seeking Truth, can reveal new ways. God is still creating, and community is the canvas.

I am continuing to listen, research, learn and seek guidance as to how God wants me to minister to others about community. Once again, from out of the darkness has come a pinprick of light, which has spread to cover the darkness for me. The god of my understanding is constantly creating, growing, and revealing and for that I am grateful.

Live what you believe

2010-01-06T23:49:00.002-05:00

Happy New Year, Friends!
I'm sure that many of you would join me in saying it has been a tough year! Many of us will be glad to see the new year come in, hoping it will carry with it a change for the better, a trend towards a better economy, good health, creative new endeavors. Maybe even an overhaul of health care!

Have you made that list of resolutions in the past? I used to start every year with a list of things I would like to manifest in the coming year. I would write it in the front of my new calendar each year, and I would try to read over it once a week. I was often amazed at the end of that year that even if I'd forgotten to "work" on those things, some of them came to be, simply by my putting them in my line of view. The mind is amazing that way.

Then I had another period in my life (we all have them, don't we?) where everything that could go wrong did. No amount of manifesting or positive thinking seemed to bring about a change to the pattern. Was I doing something wrong? Was this bad karma? It was a major upset to my belief system that nothing I could seem to do had a visible effect on the events surrounding me. I felt periods of doom and gloom. When that new year rolled around, I simply didn't have the energy to muster up a list of resolutions or manifestations. Since my monumental efforts had produced no change, I felt a bit...well...hopeless.

As a result, on that New Year's Eve, I found myself ponderous. I had no desire to participate in a First Night, watch fireworks or the ball dropping, or even commune with friends. I was at home, quiet, not even realizing I had fallen into worship. (Worship can be that kind of thing...the Light can sneak up on you when you're not even paying attention and draw you inward, have you noticed?) In my inner sanctum a voice began to call, quietly repeating it self: "Live what you believe."

What? "Live what you believe." It was almost too simple. Yet with it came a peace and a strength, a feeling of something dawning.

"Live what you believe." This would become my mantra. In times of darkness, it would come back to me. In times of light, it would celebrate with me.

"Live what you believe." Simple yes, but easy, not quite. This was over 20 years ago. I am still aiming at this simple goal in my life. It's simple, powerful call has awakened Spirit in me, and called me to look at every aspect of my life.

DO I live what I believe? Sometimes. More now than before. As the Light has called me to reveal my beliefs to myself and others, it has called me to be more genuine. It has also called me to look deeper, to reveal what lies in the shadows. I often had glimpses of those shadows in the past, and I ran from them. Now I know that God is calling me to love and nurture myself to the place where I can live what I believe, and that means illuminating those shadows.

Do you live what you believe? I know that I could not have moved to live so directly in the Light were it not for my spiritual community here at Hopewell Centre. When my light is weak, you hold the beacon. When I am weak you carry me, and hopefully you allow me to do the same for you. God's Light calls us into community with each other, so that we can lead each other in the dark times, and celebrate with each other in the Light. You ask me the difficult questions. Send me a meal for nourishment. Offer words of encouragement. Through you, God calls to the rest of the community. You are an integral part of this puzzle of community that nurtures us all.

Community and Individualism

2009-12-20T09:15:00.000-05:00

This morning I was snowed in, and unable to get to Meeting for Worship. I'm always sad when this happens, because I have come to rely deeply on the time spent in corporate silence, to direct my life and focus me for the week ahead. Why, you ask? It is because I believe deeply that one cannot live a life of integrity and wholeness devoid of community.

I found this video on youtube this morning, (The Myth of the Individual, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dI4KIos7tuU) as I was searching for a sort of community with my fellow Friends via Quakerquaker and a variety of other social connection sites. Parker Palmer talks here about the paradox of community and individualism; that one cannot exist without the other. In order to bring ourselves into community, he says, we must bring ourselves, our whole individual self, to the table. This short conversation is well worth listening to as a foundation for your own silent meditation.

I have mostly approached this conversation as a dialectic for our societal culture of individualism. I want to call to Friends to stand strong and vocal in their communities, to call others to join in, and to speak out in our individualistic society for the need for community. I have said that I feel that community is the single most powerful tool Quakers bring to the table, whether the conversation be about peace, ecopolitics, world hunger, or any other social justice issue.

What Parker Palmer speaks about is the paradox of individualism and community: that one cannot exist without the other. In fact, a conversation about being a strong individual has no merit spoken in a vacuum. What he points out is the strength of the many individuals discerned in corporate worship; that in the practice of sharing our silence, we begin to be able to discern the greater good that can be found.

I don't want to digress from this message in too much conversation here. Rather I would encourage you to listen to Parker's message and spend some time with me in silence. Then bring to the conversation what you have heard from the Greater Good, the Light within.

Talk to me about True Community

2009-12-05T12:14:00.000-05:00

"The great danger in our utopian dreams of community is that they lead us to want association with people just like ourselves. Here we confront the third myth of community -- that it will be an extension and expansion of our own egos, a confirmation of our own partial view of reality. But in true community we do not choose our companions. Instead, they are given to us by grace. In fact, true community might be defined as that place where the person we least want to live with always lives!"

Parker Palmer, A Place Called Community

Pendle Hill Pamphlet

For a long time, I have been thinking about Friends Community. In fact, it was the fact that Friends were a 'Religious Society' that played a large part in my feeling this was where I belonged spiritually. Something inside of me has railed against the notion of rugged individualism, since I was too young to know what that meant. As I came to understand the concept of ongoing revelation, I came to understand that Spirit had been leading me for a long time regarding this issue.

In seminary, I was studying pastoral counseling, and I was searching for a way to talk about spirituality and family therapy. It seemed clear to me that one could not counsel one person in a family without considering the whole. Gradually it came to me that this was like the passage from 1 Corinthians 12, which refers to the varying spiritual gifts. Indeed, I came to see that each member of a family possessed different gifts, and these each needed to be brought into the light. A Meeting functions much in the same way: those drawn to be a part of each bring different gifts, and the manner in which all of those gifts "fit" together comprises the personality of the Meeting.

I wrote my master's thesis on the Body of Christ as a model for pastoral family therapy. I can look back now and say honestly that I barely scratched the surface on the use of this metaphor. I was more a therapist than a Biblical scholar, and really what I was trying to say was how we cannot ignore the whole of any organization, and that if we treated each part of the whole as though it could not simply be ignored because it didn't fit, then we would all be better off.

This is still my theoretical belief, although quite a few years more of living has certainly shown me how much more difficult this is in practice. In my years as a convinced Friend, I have seen meetings struggle with virtually every kind of community issue, from mental illness, to diversity, to the rights of individuals vs. the rights of the whole, to politics, to religious beliefs. Often, in practice, we, and I in particular, have come up dreadfully short of the spiritual ideal. Still, our desire and willingness to struggle with the queries, to worship listening for direction, and to continue to strive towards what we believe God would have us do, has led me to believe more and more that I am a Friend in as many the ways as George Fox and the early Friends were.

I remain convinced that our experience of living community combined with our desire to live our beliefs is the single strongest corrective we present to the world against the cold shoulder of individualism in our society. It has led us to develop and practice methods of peaceful resolution to conflict, to see the global issues as our own issues, and to practice creative ways of being Present with others, no matter their condition. It has led me to begin to study more in the Bible, and to begin to read the history of Friends in community from a desire to live these principals more deeply..

Here is where you come in: As I embark on this project, to write a book about what it means and has meant to be in community over the history of Friends, I am interested in knowing your thoughts. I would like to hear what it is you have read and the role community plays (or doesn't) in your being a Friend. I am interested in knowing what you have read that has piqued your curiosity about how Friends have lived in community, both the Light and the shadow sides.

As I am doing my own survey of literature, and re-reading the journals of early Friends, like Fox, Penn, Barclay and Naylor, on forward into more modern times, reading Parker Palmer, Lloyd Lee Wilson, Douglas Steere, and Thomas Kelly, it occurs to me that you may have resources within your meetings and yearly meetings that would be helpful in this regard. I found one such resource in this regard in the Faith and Practice of South Eastern Yearly Meeting:

"Each of us has unique and creative contributions to make as we allow the Light to shine through us. A Meeting community needs the God-given leadings and spiritual gifts of each of its members. Individuals, in turn, need the Meeting community to be a safe place to explore whether their leadings are from the Light, and to exercise their gifts and abilities. This individuality and diversity of gifts can develop and be celebrated because the unity of the group resides in the Spirit through real connections and commitments to God and to each other, not in outward conformity. The spiritual understanding of individuality stands in sharp contrast to the “rugged individualism” which is rampant in our culture. For generations, people have abandoned traditional forms of community – small towns and extended families – for various reasons, among them the pursuit of personal economic mobility, “progress” and wealth. Individualism has become a value system in which the rights of the individual are often believed to be in conflict and competition with the needs of the community and the environment."

Knowing the process that Yearly Meetings go through to reach agreement of what statements will be made public and printed in Faith and Practice, I see this as one very valuable resource to my process. It also leads me to see that my survey of literature could prove endless, so it is here that I ask for your help.

Please share with me your own leadings about community, and the resources that you have found most helpful. Full credit will be given to each resource, and it is my hope that the information gleaned through this method will provide a rich and very deep understanding of the nature of Friends' community then and now, that will be useful to us as Friends, and possibly of value to the larger world community.

Christmas Gifts

2009-12-03T06:29:00.000-05:00

Well, it's here-- the inevitable Big Holiday Season is upon us. And guess what? I'm not doing IT this year.

That's right, Nada, Zilch, Nothing, Zero, None. No big holiday season. What a relief.
After all these years of saying it doesn't matter, that how we treat each other all year is what's important, that it's the simple things that matter, that it is unQuakerly to buy into all the Christmas Hype, I finally get it. It took my son to say to me, "I'm just not into this Christmas thing this year." And I felt that big sigh of relief come over me. "Yeah, me either," I tried to say calmly as I rejoiced inside. My son had in fact set me free. This year, we are going to spend time with each other, but we are dispensing with gift giving of any physical sort.

We are all stressed, for money, for our health, for time, for peace, for all the things that matter.
So this Christmas, what I am giving for gifts is this... Do you need an ear? A moment of peace? A little heart? A kind touch? A quiet place to be? A soft place to land? I have all those things to offer. Friends have offered them to me, as well.

"A good end cannot sanctify evil means; nor must we ever do evil, that good may come of it ... It is as great presumption to send our passions upon God's errands, as it is to palliate them with God's name... We are too ready to retaliate, rather than forgive, or gain by love and information. And yet we could hurt no man that we believe loves us. Let us then try what Love will do: for if men did once see we love them, we should soon find they would not harm us. Force may subdue, but Love gains: and he that forgives first, wins the laurel."

I've read this passage over and over this year. William Penn said it in 1693. It has resonated to me on so many levels. What's also come to mind repeatedly is my favorite passage, in First Corinthians 13:1-13:

¹If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ²If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. ¹¹When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. ¹²Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

¹³And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Many years I've haunted myself with thoughts of not doing enough, being enough, having enough. This year I have even less, in terms of things. I couldn't shower people with presents even if I wanted to. I don't have money, my health is less than great, and I certainly don't have the energy in the midst of my job search. Yet I am at peace.

I do have this one thing: LOVE.

I am surrounded by family, friends, community, meeting, god, light -- LOVE.

Let us then try what LOVE will do.

Let us then TRY what love will do.

Let US then try what love will do.

Let us then try WHAT love will do.

The greatest blessing of my life has been to be filled with the Light of God and experience that Love. It is a gift that cannot be taken away, worn out, used up, or returned. It is never the wrong size, always just right.

I LOVE each and every one of you, and I am blessed to have you in my life. Thank you for that gift

Gossip as the Dark Side of Community

2009-11-10T16:49:00.001-05:00

Exodus 20:16
You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor.

Matthew 12:36
But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken.

Ephesians 4:29;31
Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers... Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.

I've had my interest picqued to the discussions online about gossip lately (http://emergingquaker.blogspot.com/2009/11/gossip-and-quakers.html, http://www.quakerranter.org/gossip_and_ownward_spirals.php). It's an issue that has alternately plagued and perturbed me, so I'd like to throw in my lot, including a bit of perspective I've learned from 12 step programs:

The attraction of gossip, as I see it, is that when I am involved in talking about someone else, I am able to avoid a host of other things, like taking responsibility for myself and my actions, saying uncomfortable things to people (like, "stop talking about others, please!"). Then there's the entertainment value of gossip, which, while occupying an extremely low rung in the intelligence/entertainment scale, I'll admit, does seem to be what gets people started.

Something in human nature has us crave information about others. On a certain level, it is a part of what being community is, caring about your neighbors, thinking of others, etc. However, almost as soon as a word is uttered, the dark side of community is out. Here all of human nature turns on itself, and we are drawn to the colorful, the curious, and most certainly the weakest.

It's a little like the wounded cat in a den of lions; even though they know it to be one of their own, they cannot resist picking at it, sometimes even killing it and eating it! It is a short route from caring for ones' own to destroying the weak link. Is this a part of humans too?

I've seen it even in little children as they pick on the weakest in their lot. This morning I was involved in a discussion with some friends about how we handled being bullied as children, and how we taught our own children. Even though I frequently felt defenseless as a child, something in me gave me the courage to line up my neighbor friends against the baseball backstop and rail at them when I felt they had hurt my little brother. I raised my children to be non-violent, to be thoughtful of even the smallest or weakest in the group, to show mercy to all, and to have compassion as they would want. Never, I told them, was there a reason to strike another, and the route to dealing with bullies was to ignore them. I know for a fact they sometimes suffered at the hands of bullies as a result, but I know as well that they remain committed to non-violence, as I do.

Another friend told of her mom teaching her how to make a fist, and to hit once and as hard as possible, to deter bullies. Another said her mother fought her battles for her. We were trying to look at how these philosophies stood us as adults, when our neighbors or co-workers seemed determined to dog us.

I still maintain that my strongest offense is being prepared, and that planned ignorance gets me a long way. What always comes to mind is Ghandi's refusal to respond to violence with violence, and how ultimately those perpetrators came to look foolish or weak in the eyes of others. I have seen that same thing happen when one refuses to accept gossip about another.

This seems, however, like the hardest issue to make any headway with people about: When people start to gossip, tell them you would rather not have this information, I say. Even if it's about you, trust me, you don't want to know it. In AA they have a saying, "what other people think about me is none of my business." It's true, and it is good advice. What I don't know can't hurt me, and when you tell me, trust me, it is going to hurt me, and you can't possibly know how much. So while I can't stop you from gossiping, I can certainly try to keep you from giving me the information.

I have to be compassionate towards myself as well as others. If I allow another person to pass gossip, I am as responsible as the other person for the results, which will inevitably be more far-reaching than I could ever have seen. Try as I may, I can't guarantee (nor can you, I'd reckon) that I won't pass information on, particularly if I think it could serve some "good purpose." I can't predict what effect the information is going to have on me either, as far as coloring my otherwise good relationship with a person. Try as I may, I am pitifully poor at remembering that this information is only one opinion about the person, and the more juicy the information it is, the more amnesiac my brain becomes.

I hate that part of myself, and I hate it in others. So there seems to be only one solution, which is to never let myself hear the information. I can't stop the harm that others might be bent on doing me, but I can certainly refuse to take notice of it. I can refuse to lower my standards of living my beliefs, by not letting slander into my frame of reference.

I have been the victim of this kind of gossip, in my own meeting, so I speak from a place of knowledge of both sides of the street. I know that the people who passed information about me that was hurtful were convinced that they spoke "the truth." If it was, it was their own truth, not mine. What they interpreted as ignorance or blindness on my part was in fact an attempt to be compassionate, in a way that did not fit those individuals; definitions. The result was that we all felt separated and alone, wounded, in the midst of our community.

In our meeting, we have since tried to address this kind of behavior by teaching each other that if a friend comes to us with information, we reply, "Let us go together to this person to see if this information is true or has any merit," or "Let us seek out the help of elders together, so that we can see our way clear of this." We do not want to "accidentally" pass on erroneous information, nor do we want to fail to address a situation that might be cause for alarm. By going to the individual to seek clarity, or by seeking the help of wise others, we will hopefully avoid unnecessary hurt.

Over and over we have heard that this path of ours as Friends is one of attraction not of promotion. How can we claim this and not see that the most powerful lesson we teach is the power of example.

Practicing refusal to lay claim to negative information about another, whether it be false information about a friend or the president, is one of the simplest forms of speaking truth to power. I say, simply, "Please do not give me this information." I ask, "What is your purpose in giving me this information?" If I hear a cause for alarm, I say, "Let us seek the help of others."

I love my community, and I will go to any lengths to protect it. Keeping secrets from others is never a safe or healthy form of protection.

"Quakers live their principles." (Friends as a Corrective for Culture, Part 2)

2009-11-07T22:01:00.000-05:00

I found this apt quote in the exquisite article in November's Friend's Journal, "Living in Right Relationship: How Does Spirit Call Us?" The writer was told by a good friend that they might be a Quaker, because "Quakers live their principles." Simple. This revelation, which also came to me quite a few years ago, on a wistful New Years' Eve, has turned out to be the making of a life's journey. That year it came to me that rather than making the proverbial list, I need to only "Live What I Believe."

Simple is not always easy. What's refreshing about Hollister Knowlton's article is the suggestions towards action, "10 steps you can do that give me hope." I love queries, but I sometimes like suggestions too. In looking at how others have answered their queries, I am offered the opportunity to come to new places myself, places I hadn't thought of before.

Originally, I saw Friends as the corrective to the hypocritical, Sunday-go-to-church crowd I was sick and tired of from my traditional church upbringing. I was seeking, but I was seeking out of anger and disgust and frustration that it seemed the world of the 1970s was full of people who liked to talk a big show but were incapable of or uninterested in living it. Gradually, as I became immersed in a community of people who walked their talk, I was able to shed off the anger at "those others," and focus more on the doing and being myself.

I have an acceptance of what is that serves me well these days. I'm no longer frustrated with the empty talkers, and sometimes I'm even able to let the negativity sowers be. Why? Because the business of living what one believes does not allow much time for my own negativity. When I find myself sinking to that point, I know I am avoiding some part of myself I do not want to face.

I'm not going to review Knowlton's article here, other than to tell you that it is good reading, good food for thought, and it offers a bit of a roadmap for living in right relationship with the earth, something we could all use. Please read it; I don't think you will be disappointed.

For this discussion, I'm using the article as a jumping off point for my latest soapbox, Friends as a Corrective for Culture.

I've been alarmed by some of the posts that I've found on sites like wikipedia and expert.com that stated that Friends follow individualistic spiritual paths. This is a gross misstatement of our manner of being. While Friends may welcome others, wherever they are on their spiritual path, the path is neither an individualistic or solitary one. For the path of being a Quaker is one that can not be defined in a vacuum; it must be experienced as a part of the whole.

What makes Friends a corrective for culture is exactly this point: Friends were formed in the image of the most original followers of Christ: those disciples that formed the original community around him. There was an attraction that Fox felt to this haggard group of strangers become friends: they were the ones who were so filled with faith from the hearing of the words of God spoken through one who felt himself to be God's son, that they were willing to leave everything behind in order that they might follow him.

There was nothing ordinary or regular about the action on the part of the disciples. There was no reason given, no proof offered as a reason for faith. It was something felt at a pure level of love. Those who were touched by the spirit of the teachings of the young Jesus were never the same again. Often they left their families, their careers, their sense of everything that was secure behind them, and they followed him. No wonder Fox, beleaguered in his seeking, found renewed faith here.

Most of us are not so privileged to have this experience in our lifetime. But this is the experience Fox had as he listened inwardly to the voice of Christ. "There is one, even Christ Jesus who can speak to your condition." These are the words he heard and spoke to others.

Living one's principles is the hardest thing we do in this world. Often there is nothing in the external world around us that supports us in doing this. I imagine this is how Fox felt. He had traveled around his world, speaking to professors, to pastors, to scholars, to the faithful, and there was none who could speak to his condition. The regular rituals of his families spiritual. practice did not speak to him. I imagine that after such a period of searching, he must have felt close to hopeless. In times I have had like this, I have even questioned (and I know I'm not the only one) whether this life is worth it. In this low time, George Fox heard the voice of Christ, speaking to him personally, and speaking directly to his condition.

He did not remain alone for long. Fox himself was moved by the spirit that directed him, and he could not keep quiet. It did not take long before others were attracted to his message and had begun to gather with him to talk about what was missing in the church of the day. Those who were uncomfortable and disconcerted met to discuss what they felt was needed to re-value the spiritual life of Christians. They became so excited by this discourse that they in turn could not remain silent.

Ever since I realized that this was the time of the Bible first being printed in English and becoming available at least to the wealthy, I have been struck by what a new era dawning this was! No longer was the populace subject to priests and their interpretation of the Word. People now had access to the Bible, and they were relatively free to interpret what the Scripture said to them, if they dared. This is where Fox found his direction. The Bible, and the words of Christ in his heart, did not speak the same message that preachers had tried to teach him; indeed he heard something that might truly be considered heretical.

What was unique about this gathering of seekers was that each brought to the conversation their own leadings. Fox was as interested in hearing what the others were hearing, as he was in communicating his own message. The community that evolved was something new indeed: they were freed from the bondage of strict interpretation by powers above them, to be in intimate conversation with the Christ within.

Have you had moments in your spiritual life where you have exhausted your resources, internal and external. Life is leaving you flat, lacking meaning or direction. There is no good reason you shouldn't follow the common thought on an issue, yet it doesn't feel right. You search for justification and find none. Still their is a nagging feeling inside of you that will not let go and you cannot settle yourself. After a long period of confusion, you begin to feel a stirring and to find a direction out of your conundrum that is creative, if not outrageous, compared to the common thought. Is it a relief? Or is it a point of further confusion?

You must know, as I do, that there are times you have turned inward, and you have "heard" that still small voice, leading you forward in the way you know, without a doubt is the right way. But what about the times that the leading, while intriguing, seems a little outrageous? You may feel frightened, because what you feel led to is outside of your comfort zone.

Quakers live their principals. Not always, not forever, not perfectly, but yes, when we pause to listen, we generally live what we believe. Just how do we do that?

I know of no healthy person who can individually set out to live their beliefs, and have any success at doing so, in a vacuum. I don't think humans are built with the ego strength to do such a thing. Our thoughts can be amazingly creative, but they lack the consistency and clarity to make a real path without one essential ingredient: community. Without the support and challenge of those around us, we are quick to stray from what seemed only a second ago a clear path.

It is the community of Friends that brings our inner leading to be the thing which we live. The voice of God, which we may hear so clearly in that moment, becomes distorted if we leave it to live within our own solitary mind alone. What separates the sage seeker from the solitary psychotic soul, is the willingness to let the leading stand the test of coming before community. Without this seasoning, how can be sure one has not just heard one's own narcissistic yearning?

In a strictly individualistic society, everyone is free to develop their own view of what is "ultimate". The rest of us, who are not such strong leaders, will be led by the charisma of that single leading, if we are not encouraged to question and to challenge. What makes Friends community different, in my experience, is that it is not a community built out of static teachings from a book. The mystery of ongoing revelation is constantly unfolding, and the teachings are constantly evolving. It is the community of seekers that brings wholeness to the experience: no one of us can possibly possess the whole picture. Each of us, listening intently in our times of silent attentiveness, brings to the community table our piece of the puzzle and adds it to the whole.

Accordingly, one of us may possess the gifts for holding together the physical structure of the commmunity, another the teachings, another the creativity to add a process to the information, another a gift for healing and so forth. Individually, the pieces may not even make sense. But if we are willing to worship together, to work together, and to break bread together, we will find that together we form a much stronger and more complete whole.

I may hold a principal that says I should stand for peace. Individually, I may stand for that peace, by holding a sign, by writing a letter, by praying, or by being a conscientious objector. If my government, my neighborhood, or the society continue to tell me that I am unpatriotic, or unfair, or unrealistic, I alone may not stand for long by that belief. However, if in the course of a week, I have a conversation with my friend about my struggle, I may stand a little longer. If in worship, I hear leadings that speak to the heart of why I am for peace, I may feel strengthened. In my prayers, I find myself led to speak to others, and they are strengthened. Perhaps we travel together to a demonstration, or we write letters after worship. We gather with a family whose child is approaching 18 and we talk about what the choices are. Gradually, simply, God gathers us together and strengthens us. The resources God means for me to have to live my path on earth are present in that community.

If my leading is off base, there is a good chance that in worship I will hear leadings, inwardly or from others, that do not support what I think I am to do. Thus I will not go too far down the path without a correction, like using a compass to keep my direction. Gradually, as I am willing to risk sharing my leadings with others, I am offered the direction needed, and I do not feel desperate or lonely on my path. A friend, who knows me well from participation in the meeting, may feel a leading to talk to me about my own direction, or a wiser, more experienced friend may feel called to "elder" me on a topic where I seem off base. It's a simple matter of being a part of the whole.

The outside world, as Knowlton tells us, sees that "Quakers Live their Principals." It could sound like a grand concept. In reality, it is the end result of living one's life in relationship with God, and in relationship with the community that God has called us to be a part of. As we understand that God has brought us together, we do not take either our friendships or our community lightly, and we come to live what we are called to, in faith, and with the support of that gift of community.

Friends live their principles, it is true. As we stand together, as we share a meal, care for each other, push each other to grow, we each find the strength and courage to live what we believe.

A feeling of Real Need.

2009-10-20T09:43:00.000-04:00

“A feeling of real need is always a good enough reason to pray.”

-Hannah Whitall Smith

God's words through Hannah Whitall Smith, through Brent Bill, through Robin M's blog, What Canst Thou Say, to my ears and eyes. Prayer is the process spirit uses to minister to us all, if we choose to listen.

I believe if we are able to be still enough, if we practice our faith, then the direction we need is readily available to us. Prayer is one of the doorways to access that guidance. Meditation, yoga, spending time outdoors, worship, reading, chanting, walking a labyrinth, singing: these are just some of the other ways I have found access to that spiritual direction over the years.

Sometimes I wonder if it was easier to become still in the pre-technology age. I can scarcely remember. What I can recall is the feeling of my first camping trip with my friends, without parents to direct the flow. The feeling of sitting on a rock next to a stream listening to the water fall over rocks and the wind whisper through the trees. Even in my pre-Quaker, infantile spiritual state, I knew there were words waiting just beyond my grasp, calling me to be silent, to listen intently, to focus inwardly.

A number of us from Hopewell Centre had the chance to participate in a workshop with Daniel Snyder last August at Baltimore Yearly Meeting's Annual Sessions, and he called us into more intentional awareness of coming into the presence of "the infinite lover of our souls." It was such a simple, yet such a profound experience, that I left that workshop wanting to teach others how close our access to God is.

"How could you not want to be in a relationship with the infinite lover of your soul."

As we speed up our lives and struggle to keep pace with the every growing demands on our attention, God exists beyond an artificial veil we construct, calling to us as if through a mist. Without some daily practice, it is almost impossible to lift that veil, to return to closeness to the Light.

In the workshop, Daniel Snyder invited us to partake of a simple process: Show up, Tell the Truth, Listen. I was amazed at the diversity of experience shared by the participants. Each of us merged Daniel's directions into our own basic understanding of our inner process. It was a process for returning our awareness to the One who is always Present. Therefore, as we shared with each other, we each brought our own unique understanding to the group, enriching and encouraging each other.

Show up: I felt myself walking into the light, palms up to receive it, basking in the warmth and calming strength of that moment.

Tell the truth: I found myself asking, "Is this the whole truth? What is beneath this? And beneath that? And under that? Deeper and deeper, desiring to share my soul with the ultimate lover.

Listen: Basking in the warm, healing light, I could only listen deeply, waiting like the child at the foot of Jesus, for the comfort, the wisdom, the guidance.

What a gift! I who have struggled over the years with the remnants of my programmed protestant background, who have felt the practiced prayers of my childhood to fall short of my need, resting simply and surely in the presence of the divine, feeling loved, cherished and valued. This was my experience in that workshop, and I have returned to it over and over since.

In the months since the workshop, I have understood texts like the Song of Solomon in a new and deeply moving way. I have entered a new depth in relationship with the Infinite Unknown. I have understood Jung's belief that God grows through relationship with our incarnate selves.
If God is the infinite divine lover of my soul (and yours) then my own ability to love and serve knows no bounds.

My ability to move through life serenely and gracefully lies in direct relationship to my ability to lift the veil that separates me from relationship with God. The God of my understand waits patiently for my return. A feeling of real need is reason enough to pray.

A Spiritual Path for Today --About the Children

2009-10-14T16:30:00.000-04:00

Last week Hopewell Centre MM hosted the first of four talks on "The Quaker Way: A Spiritual Path for Today." It was the culmination of six months of planning and talking amongst ourselves about what we wanted to present to our community about who we are. It is also the final series of events in our year long celebration of our 275th Anniversary of being a recognized meeting in the Shenandoah Valley. The event was well attended by both community members and Friends, and there was wonderful dialogue between us all.

My own surprise was over the joy I felt just talking about my faith to "strangers." We are so careful about not proselytizing that I realized there is seldom a time like this when I am called to share the story of my spiritual journey and what brought me to realize I was a Friend. Last night's topic was "How I came and why I stayed." Three of us shared our stories for just a few minutes each, following a brief 15 minute worship.

I was excited that some people had already sought out reading material, either on the web or in print, before they even heard about our talks. Most were curious about the peace testimony and what one does to resolve the conflicts one might feel over serving vs. not serving in a war. There were the usual curiosities about our manner of unprogrammed worship, whether we are Christians, and what relevance we give the Bible.

The questions that stood out most were related to the children. Our crowd was middle aged to older, and among these attenders there was a genuine concern about the spiritual condition of our youth in America. A few questions were asked about how we "attract" youth to our services. More were asked about how a youngster or teenager sits for an hour of worship and whether there would be much draw for a child here. They seemed incredulous at the fact that children would be interested in our manner of worship.

We explained the experiences we'd had with introducing children to worship, and the inner discipline that is gained from a lifetime of learning to be quiet listeners. We talked about the emphasis on living out one's faith and how that impacts our families.

The responses, from our members and from others in the community who'd encountered our youth, either from our meeting or from Camp Opequon, were wonderful! A young woman who worked at the local pool commented, "You can always tell these children. You know there is a way with children today...well, these children are just...so...different. They are not demanding, they are....polite!" She went on to say that they always welcome our children back.

Another person remarked about the campers being present in Meeting for Worship and being able to sit for an entire hour, without parents, and without incident! We talked about how our children participate in causes of their interest, express their individuality artistically and creatively, and are taught to stand up for what they believe.

We gave the example of when there was a conflict in our meeting, and our Children's Business Meeting sent a letter to the adults: "We don't know why you are making such a big deal out of things. We are over it, and it was about us. We need our adults to move on." We told the story of the Young Friends taking a stand when Lamar Matthews was discriminated against at the Trienniel.

I don't know why this interchange took me so by surprise. Of course our youth are the answer to our future. How can we really talk about a path into the twenty first century without acknowledging the legacy our young people will carry, to live out our testimonies of peace and simplicity in our increasingly complex and selfish world.

It is not that the message of Friends has changed, it is that the need for it has increased.
Having the opportunity to talk to newcomers about our community standing as a balance for an indivualistic culture and even more, offering alternatives and solutions for living in our world, offered inspiration to us all.

If you feed a Quaker a mystery...

2009-10-08T19:40:00.000-04:00

I confess, I'm a closet mystery novel reader. I devour them at the rate of one or two a week. It's gotten so that I can scarcely find a good novel in this genre that meets my criteria. You see, though I crave a good mystery, it must be written by a good author, who will teach me something and have a plot that is complex enough that I cannot figure it out in the first two chapters. And I pride myself on figuring them out, fast.

Over the years I've learned alot about my favorite place, the desert Southwest, through the novels of Tony Hillerman, Aimee Thurlo, Margaret Coel and a host of others. It's a way for me to travel vicariously. If I pick up a bit of Native American lore along the way, so much the better.

To feed my fantasy of owning a bookstore and herb shop, I read Susan Wittig Albert, who has for years been writing mysteries from the perspective of just such a woman, who excels as a sleuth as well. For my forensic psychology tastes, there is Jonathan Kellerman, author of the Alex Delaware series of mysteries.

Since I was a little child, I have used reading as the ultimate escape; a vacation without leaving home. I'm blessed with a vivid imagination, and movies often leave me flat if I've read the book first, because they cannot come close to what my mind can conjure up!

Don't get me wrong, I read my share of Quaker classics and modern non-fiction. I read the Bible and other spiritual teachings (notably Testament of Devotion by Thomas Kelly). But for sheer entertainment, give me a mystery, thick with metaphor and dripping with hidden innuendo.

There's only one place where my Quakerism and my pleasure reading really cross, and that's in Irene Allen's mysteries. Irene Allen is actually Dr. E. Kirsten Peters, who is a retired faculty member from the Geology Dept of Washington State University. This itself is a fact that was hidden from me until recently.

The creation of the character Elizabeth Elliott, a Quaker elder from Cambridge, Mass meeting is nothing less than genius. Through Elizabeth, and her incredibly hapless congregation of Friends, we learn just how Friends live in the modern world. In her books, I have read about Friends' stance on the War Tax, how we get along with conflicts in the Quaker community, how everyday decisions are made, and how to conduct one's self in public.

Today in my morning meditation, Elizabeth came to visit me once more, as I sat with my cat contemplating how to proceed in some decisions about my work and spiritual life. Countless times (but not enough...there are only 4 books) I have sat, as Elizabeth does, in the sun, with my cat at my arm, considering some decision and how I should proceed. I don't have the wisdom of years that Elizabeth (Kirsten?) does, but I borrow from the elders I have met over the years.

If I want an easy way to show people how and who we Quakers are, I often find myself recommending these dry, humorous novels. Without even realizing, under the guise of good entertainment, readers will finding themselves drenched in Quaker tradition and language. Through Elizabeth's eyes, outsiders can learn how decisions are made and ethical issues addressed.

If you haven't read these juicy little morsels yet, you should. You'll have to search for them in used books stores, but they are usually easy to find. You too can vicariously enjoy being an amateur sleuth, through the adventures of Elizabeth Elliott.

Nothing like a good mystery to replenish the drained batteries of the soul!

Call for the Question

2009-10-05T08:10:00.098-04:00

Suppose you walked into a party, and the host said to you: "Folks, there's only one rule for tonight's festivities. You may ask all the questions you want, but the only statements you can make will be in response to a question. In other words, you may not start conversations with statements about yourself or your observations, unless a question has been put to you. I will be circulating among you to be certain that you do not digress. And please, allow a little time to unfold between your responses; don't be afraid to take that moment to allow yourself to digest the question before you respond. Have fun, and don't be afraid to ask any question."

Ponder this a moment. Really allow yourself to imagine a past situation you were in, be it a social event or a meeting, and imagine all the characters and how they approach you, and see yourself in the situation, mainly asking questions (queries) and only responding to the ones that are put to you. Drop your expectations of the event, and allow the situation to unfold.

Isn't this the quaker practice of worship sharing taken to a new limit? How do your imagine your own behavior might change were you prompted to view all of your interactions from the perspective of worship sharing and to focus on the questions rather than the answers? Is this the manner in which you go out to greet the world?

These are some of the queries that surfaced as I entered the Visioning Retreat at Baltimore Yearly Meeting (BYM), even before we began the actual process. Thanks to the creative genius of Michael Marquardt, we were introduced to a new way to think and work on 8 challenges that the staff of BYM put before us. We broke into small groups, each one addressing a query, and set upon our task.

I was surprised to see how uncomfortable we seasoned Friends were with a process that we would view as a part of our core, when it was put into this context. It tuned me into my own presumptiveness when I come into a situation like this retreat: that I am already primed with ideas and agendas that I might not even consciously be aware of, and that are certainly not seasoned in the Light.

Michael Marquardt is a professor of Human Resource Development and International Relations at George Washington University and President of the World Institute for Action Learning, the organization that teaches "Action Learning," the process described above. (http://wial.org,     http://www.gwu.edu/~elliott/faculty/marquardt.cfm) He is a Quaker and a member of Herndon Meeting. To my knowledge, this was his first time bringing his cutting edge process to his own "family" of Friends. Michael is like so many other Friends over time, who have quietly integrated their own manner of living as a Friend into their business practices. In this case, Michael has actually taken his translation of a part of our Quaker process into the secular world of business, across continents and around the world. As one who has often pondered what impact Quakers might have on global decision making, this was very exciting to learn!

It was delightful to be called to accountability to live our own manner so succinctly. In each group were coaches whose job was to keep the time frame, help with clarity, and hold us to the task of the day:   to consider the query and utilize questions to creatively move through the process of responding to that challenge. Of course, being Friends and comfortable with queries ourselves we had some questions for Michael too: "Can we have a period of worship?" "Can we redefine the question?" "What happens in the executive world, do people end up taking a vote?" (Michael assured us that in all of his years working with this method, no one has ever come to a vote.)

I'll have another post on the actual challenges that were put to us to work on, but for now I'll just focus on the process. While Michael was encouraging us to think outside of the box, I was aware of how much he had done just that in his development of the Action Learning method of problem solving.

What's fun about an experience like this is the personal awareness it calls us to. When what may be our usual practices are put into a different box, or called a different name, we may fail to recognize them as our own. The difficult part of this is how we may struggle with the "new" concept, failing to see where it fits in our own toolbox of constructs. The titillating part is in being called to look at our own process with new eyes, and see the way that process then reflects back through the rest of our being.

In our group there was a bit of a struggle to decide if we were doing things the "right" way. We wondered if we should redefine the question as we went along, rather than just living the one we had. We wanted to inject our own ideas into the mix rather than stay on the task of answering the ensuing questions put to each of us or the group as a whole. We balked at trusting the process. Some of us had to put our own agendas aside to be truly present.

To be fair, we were doing a condensed version, scheduled to fit in this 5 hour retreat. This did put a bit of pressure on us to move at a pace much faster than our usual Quaker amble. I believe that the whole concept of Action Learning is to move beyond the linear model of thinking into a more circular one, and this is probably a struggle for many of us even in a more accomodating time frame.

It was a breath of fresh air in what could have been an arduous process. As we laughed and wrangled our way through, the time passed incredibly quickly. I noticed no yawning or dozing. Some of the ideas that rose to the surface were solutions we are used to hearing, but many were new observations or calls for a different approach.

As I left the retreat, feeling energized, my mind whirling, I wondered what the continuation of the process will look like. Will the new thoughts or out of the box ideas be raised to the top, so that they can be heard? Will the spirit of ongoing revelation continue as we strive to bring vision to reality? Will there be the opportunity for further use of this process to move us from suggestion to implementation? Will the staid be able to move aside for the creative new?

I have no answers, only more questions.

Friends as a Corrective for Culture

2009-10-02T13:11:00.003-04:00

I'm always grateful when reading something, be it a blog, or a classic text, or the Bible, or any other spiritual writing, wakes me up from the slumber of apathy or indifference that comes over me from time to time. I find the structure of society lends itself to such numbness. Multi-tasking is the new opiate of the people. At least I can say it is for me. If the demands of our society keep us so busy that we cannot think, what is to become of us?

I'm going on record against it. Nothing good can become of dividing one's self in six different directions at once. What can be said for transporting one's children across town to their myriad of activities while conference calling with one's staff, yelling food orders into the microphone at the fast food place, while contemplating the next move to be made in one's approach to their client. It's an accident waiting to happen, literally and figuratively.

How can this multi-tasking ability be considered such a positive talent to possess, when it means quite frankly, that no one gets my undivided attention? This is the antithesis of how I want my life to be. I suspect that is true for many others as well, but most of the time we are moving so quickly, we don't have the time to stop and regroup.

I was reading Plainly Pagan's post A Quaker Mask of Respectability, when I woke up. Her call to others to recognize her spiritual need for connection spoke to me, and led me to the place of this blog. It lead me directly to the history of my own same feelings. How long I have wandered in the wilderness, silently crying for recognition. I honor her ability to speak aloud.

Everything that being a Friend has led me to has been counter-intuitive to the prevailing culture of individualism.

Where my society would call me to be a staunch individualist in all areas of my personal and working life, my faith calls me to be a member of community. Where my government calls me to war to protect the peace, my beliefs tell me that peace cannot be borne out of violence. When culture tells me that I must protect what I have and hold on to it, lest I be taken advantage of, my conscience tells me that if I leave my door unlocked and give away what I have, there will be no way my enemy can take advantage of me.

Still it is hard to live counter to the prevailing culture, in fact, it is almost impossible. Living in this dichotomy, most of us strike our own level of comfort or balance in the midst. We may function in the society to the degree we must, and end up closeting some of our beliefs to be shared only with a close few. I believe it's fairly common for some of us to throw our beliefs overboard for a period early in life, in order to strike out and make our way in the wilderness of adult life. Perhaps we settle for a moderate religious life, when we begin to have children and want them to have the "right" upbringing. Some of us come to Quaker Meeting on Sunday, desperate for the hour of quiet and the chance to shed off the weight of the garments of our outer lives, then hastily returning to the demands of the day..

I'm grateful that not everyone feels such a need to pull on the garments of our society; not everyone rejects the inner pull toward community. We all exist along a continuum that reflects the paradox of our need to fit and our need to follow our beliefs. Those who stand in the place of holding their belief up for others to see, who are not able to hide their Light under a bushel, make clear the path for those of us not able.

I'm struck that by the period of late middle age, even those of us who have had to sacrifice our "idealism" have begun to search more ardently to find real meaning for our lives, and we have begun to re-awaken to the lofty ideas of our youth, of living more and more in accordance with our values. It's appropriate at this time, because many of us are also being freed from the bondage of daily work through retirement. Without the demands of providing for our families by working in the outside culture, we are now again free as we were as adolescents, to bring our creative, spiritual thoughts into reality.

This individualistic, multi-tasking, fast-paced world does not make it easy for quiet faiths like the Society of Friends to survive. In a world where loud and fast is the norm, we are quiet and slow.
Where being a staunch individualist is the highest cultural value, we base our actions and decisions on the sense of the whole. Yet it is precisely this that we can offer to the seeker, the unquiet one.

Our Society is the corrective for the frailties of the secular society. Where society breaks families and friends apart, we gather them. Where the wheels of industry grind loud and hard, we offer solace and silence. When the long hours and hard work deprive the individual of energy, we offer the place to recharge their inner batteries. Don't we?

So many an attender has commented to me after worship on how inviting the silence was, how there was something they had not felt before in both the quiet and the messages. Many have said they felt a Presence there, or felt the spirits of those come before.

We need to be certain that in our meetings, we do carry sense of Presence forth into the world, and certainly into the time surrounding worship. Are we greeting worshipers as they arrive in a spirit of love and grace? What are we doing to help our community to incorporate and carry the peace they gain from worship into the rest of their lives? Are we risking to be vulnerable amongst each other, so that the Spirit may flourish and grow among us?

Too often I hear people say that they wished they could participate in a meeting activity but were too busy to stay or come back. What are we doing to insure that the activities offered in second hour or religious education are meaningful and relevant to the needs of our community? Do we send our Friends forth into the coming week carrying something that will uphold and uplift them in their daily life?

I have no doubt that we are offering something of dire need in this lightning-paced technology-laden world of the twenty-first century. My own meeting seems to be growing with new attenders. Our anniversary celebration of this year has given us cause to speak out, and we have chosen to use this time to invite the curious and the seeking. I see that the task before our meeting is not just to attract those travelers to us, but to nourish and sustain them in ways they are not finding in their everyday world.

In my own life, I see that this calls me to a new place too. Like those travelers, I came to the Society of Friends seeking, starving and stretched beyond my limits. Slowly, as I worshiped among
Friends, I came to see that I was a Friend long before arrived, but had not until now found my home.
I did go through a period after a few years where I began to question whether Quakers could meet my needs. I was again feeling parched.

Thankfully, I had been given the gift of silent worship and prayer, which I now knew was available to me in any time and place. Here I learned the true meaning of Fox' words, "There is one, even Christ Jesus, who can speak to thy condition." Through the nourishment of the Light, I also came to see that I had to ask what I could offer, allowing God to work through me.

When I began to ask what I had to give, and I began to surrender to the power of Spirit working through me, I found that I indeed had not come to Friends by accident. I had been Led. But what was more amazing than opening to that leading, was finding that I really did have something to offer. The real gift was not in what I had come to receive, but in finding what I had come to give, most of which I am still uncovering.

If we are, as the Society of Friends, to serve as that corrective for our prevailing culture, then we must be willing to make ourselves available to be a growing community: What have you come to give to your community? What part of the whole are you holding? Would you deny to your Friends that part of wholeness that only you can bestow?

The paradox of community is the age old lesson, that it is in the giving that you truly are fulfilled.