Dangers of today's implicit Quakerism

This post is an extension of a comment I left on my previous post. My apologies for bouncing readers around...

The discussion around Martin K's low-tech outreach program--invite a newcomer to lunch--has a few of us sharing our own experience of being newcomers at one point and having received that sort of invitation to linger, to join a group for lunch on First Day, to learn more about Quakerism by way of simple gestures of fellowship.

It's easy these days for any of us as individuals to bow out of such opportunities, though, for First Day fellowship because of our responsibilities to children, to partners, to preparation for the upcoming week's grind...

But we are missing the role of the larger community--the Quaker worship community--when we consider ourselves as individuals, disconnected from the larger group:

A healthy, vibrant meeting will have a critical mass of Friends who are available to do the work that not every individual can. It's that critical mass--made up of individual Friends, but with a shared understanding of the whole--that can regularly provide outreach and opportunities to talk about Quakerism with others.

It's that same sort of critical mass that recognizes and acts upon the need for Friends to attend Quaker weddings and memorials that are taken under the care of the meeting, something I have written about previously.

When we as a community stop talking openly among ourselves about the responsibilities of membership (or of long-term attendance-ship!), then those responsibilities become implicit and invisible--which used to be okay when we would spend oodles of time with one another during the rest of the week.

It used to be okay because during our time together away from Meeting, we'd learn that Friends would be making plans to go to committee meetings, or to attend Meeting for Worship for Business, or to check in on a Friend who was going through a particularly painful time, etc etc. We saw and heard about the interweaving of Quakerism through the fabric of the lives of those around us.

But when we see each other and interact with each other only (primarily) on First Days, we lose our direct exposure to how Quakerism impacts our day-to-day lives: how we might pull out the Scriptures to remind ourselves of a story that can help us through difficulty; how we might call on one another to discern this-or-that; how we might quiet ourselves to settle into worship during a spiritually dark time so that the Light may reveal something to us that we need to know and we may submit to it, letting mercy come in...

Our isolated, individualized brand of Quakerism is likely in stark contrast to the religion of our youth--for those of us who grew up in a religious household. That "earlier religion" was probably made explicit to us in all sorts of ways, perhaps many of them as empty forms: references to certain members of the clergy; traditions, ceremonies, and meals that followed a certain calendar of holidays; prayers that were recited on specific occasions; and lessons that were taught so we'd understand the history, struggle, accomplishments, and teachings of our particular faith.

But today, the implicit nature of today's Quakerism is not one that will allow our faith tradition to be passed onto future generations, because we have confused an embodied or "implicit Quakerism" with not knowing how to talk about our faith--or not being willing to do so, out of fear that others will be turned off by our forthrightness.

An active, receptive, participatory silence is expected during our unprogrammed periods of worship. But we fail our Quaker ancestors and our Quaker tradition when we remain silent about our faith away from our meetingroom's doors.

Blessings,
Liz

Invite a visitor to lunch (a la Martin Kelley)

The other day, I started catching up on some overdue Quaker blog reading, and I came across Martin's post on The Biggest Most Vibranty Most Outreachiest Program Ever. Like other readers, I chuckled as I read how EXTREME a program like his could be.

I wanted to comment, to share a bit of my own story with this sort of OUTRAGEOUS approach to outreach, except at the time, there was a message that said "Comments are closed." What better way is there to get me into a blogging mode, than to realize I can't post a comment on someone else's blog?!

(Comments appear to be open now, by the way. But this is too good of an opportunity for me to pass up.)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I was exposed to Quaker worship while I was at a private college whose origins have its roots in Quakerism. A handful of students would attend worship on First Days, but if someone from the nearby Meeting invited us students to lunch, I don't recall taking the Friend up on the offer.

Years later, I would find myself among Milwaukee Friends in Wisconsin. Theirs is a warm, friendly environment, with one greeter in particular who often hugs the long-time worshipers as they arrive on First Day. (She appropriately offers a handshake if you are unknown to her!)

After worshiping a couple of years there, I attended my first FGC Gathering, where I was struck by the number of people who invited one another to go to lunch together, following the morning activities.

The first First Day immediately after I got back from the Gathering, I rose my hand during announcements and said something like, "I got so used to going to lunch with Friends while I was away, I want to ask others here to go to lunch with me after worship, if anyone's interested."

I think three or four worshipers approached me afterward... and we ended up going to lunch weekly after that, with others joining us occasionally, for at least a couple years!

Later, that practice of inviting someone to lunch morphed into my asking an older, experienced Friend to provide me with eldership--which we did, of course, over lunch each month.

Now it's even years after that: When Laughing Waters Friends Worship Group happens to have a visitor, we always have some fellowship afterward--and we have at least one Friend who has a gift for inviting visitors and newcomers into the conversation. Plus, when we have a potluck, we welcome visitors and newcomers to join us for that, even if the meal is small. When we have a planned guest or speaker, we typically have a potluck at that time, too.

But Martin in his post goes beyond the action of inviting a person to lunch. The next step involves the preparedness and the willingness to talk about Quakerism, to explain our peculiar faith tradition, to connect our activities with our beliefs and vice versa. Again, the worship group is blessed to have a few experienced Friends who can move us from introductions to answering questions about Quakerism and then back to more casual conversation.

If we skip that step--asking the visitor, "Do you have any questions about Quakerism?" or "What was your experience like during worship?" or even "What did you know about Quakerism before you came here?--we risk perpetuating the perception that Quaker meetings are really more like a social club where we don't talk about God in our lives, a perception which in turn can be carried by visitors into meetings for worship.

These days, especially when I attend the larger worship at the monthly meeting on First Days, I've noticed in myself a growing willingness to introduce myself to someone I don't know when worship breaks. After all, we're shaking hands anyway, so why not just add a quick, "G'morning. I'm Liz; nice to meet you"? So far, folks have been willing to tell me their name in return.

From there, it's just a short reach to add an additional ten words or so that Martin suggests:

Would you like to join me for a bite afterward?

Blessings,
Liz