God's manna

This past First Day found me in a very dark time... one of those moods where no spiritual Light could come in; where bad thoughts bred worse thoughts, and where neutral words of greeting from fFriends easily were twisted into evidence of self-worthlessness.

But as on most First Days when I'm in town, I had the opportunity to attend two Meetings for Worship. Even though something within me wanted to keep me home, I heeded the Something Deeper that told me to go and wait on the Lord in worship.

In the morning at the local monthly meeting, there were messages about joy in the midst of strife, and how to acknowledge the strife without minimizing it or becoming depressed because of it. In the afternoon at the worship group, I sank a bit further into the Seed and found myself reflecting on a number of topics:

• What am I seeking right now?
• If I find what I'm seeking, how will I be changed?
• Remember to give up the difficulty to God so that God may see it through.
• What do I need in order to be sustained?

The last question held my attention, and I thought about my ankle.

About five years ago, I started limping because of pain in my right ankle. I went to the doctor, who happened to have a background in sports medicine. All of my best medical treatment for any part of my body that was ailing me was provided by physicians who had a background in sports medicine, and this doctor didn't disappoint!

After a series of short, low-tech muscle tests in the exam room ("Hold your leg up while I push down on it, and resist me"), I was told I have very weak muscles in my hips. Either my hips weren't strong enough to keep my ankles (and presumably knees) in alignment, or vice versa. Whatever it was, after a few weeks of physical therapy and regularly doing key exercises that focused on my ankles, my hips, and my core, my limping was practically gone.

It's four or five years later, and I'm keeping up with my workout routine. Some of the exercises haven't changed, like the calf raises; other exercises have been made a bit more complicated, like crunches that are done on the large stability ball. The net result is that I've been able to maintain my improved ankle, hip, and core strength. And I've also taken more responsibility for exercising on my own, working without a trainer at least once a week.

Last Sunday, in worship, I was thinking of how working one muscle group sustains the alignment in another muscle group, sometimes a half- or whole body away. Working on my core muscles helps my hip alignment; my hip alignment helps my knees; my knees work in coordination with my ankles.

I began thinking of how working one spiritual muscle sustains the alignment in another set of spiritual muscles, seemingly disconnected. My being away from worship for nearly two weeks while I was traveling took me away from my social time with fFriends who knew something of my ongoing journey. It seemed like in turn, being away from fFriends distanced me from the ability to see how Spirit was moving among us as a group, or even among any one of us as an individual.

Not seeing or hearing stories of how the Spirit was moving left a hole in my psyche that I wasn't conscious of, as the road trip and visits among non-Quaker friends continued. By the time I returned to my home, I was feeling the darkness of dejection start to creep in, and I didn't have a plan to interrupt its intrusion.

So it came.

And in worship in the afternoon this past First Day, I was wondering what I was seeking, what I might find, and how one part of my body was supporting and sustaining the health of another part of my body. Might there be a parallel, between how one part of my spiritual life might support and sustain other parts of my spiritual life...?

Worship broke, and a Friend shared the passage from Scripture that he had been reflecting on Luke 11:9-10:

So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. (NIV)

Another Friend reflected on how she relies on God's grace to fall upon her whenever she needs it. A third Friend shared a bit of God's humor as he reconnected with the Spirit during worship.

Listening to these stories began to draw me in, to help me feel reconnected. And the commonality between my inward experience and some of the reflections of my fellow worshipers wasn't lost on me.

We were sustaining one another by sharing our experience of the Presence and of worship as a gathered body. We were able to see and hear and sense how the Spirit was working to bind us together--to one another as well as to God. Frequently, when we've taken the time to share like this out of the silence after worship, we hear similar threads in our experience. It's like we are gathering evidence that Something Happens inwardly and collectively that binds us together in our expectant waiting.

When I spoke after worship of the dark time I had been experiencing, I also acknowledged that that little bit of sharing was already bringing to me a bit of sustenance. Like God's manna, dropped by God's grace to the people traveling in the wilderness, searching for home...

Blessings,
Liz

Guest piece by Marshall Massey: Why we practice corporate discernment

Marshall sent me an email in response to my previous post, concerned that it would detract from the topic I was lifting up at the time. He has given me permission to share his comments about "the pattern of early Friends" around the use of corporate discernment. 

What I appreciate about Marshall's remarks, once again, is the interweaving he provides between Quakerism's historical figures, our faith tradition's spiritual discipline, and Biblical references that relate to and undergird our practice. --Liz 

P.S. Emphasis in the text below is Marshall's. At times I have added links and an occasional paragraph break or blockquote.

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

Hi, Liz!

This is in response to your blog posting of October 11...

I cannot agree with Arthur Larrabee’s take on why Friends engage in corporate discernment. We don’t do it because it nurtures community. We do it, alas, simply because we are following the pattern of early Friends. And then some of us come up with rationalizations for why Friends follow that pattern, as Art Larrabee has done. But such rationalizations are simply guesses, no more.

So why did early Friends actually engage in corporate discernment? They didn’t do it to build community. They already had community, without seeking it, amongst themselves. Their reasons for engaging in corporate discernment were quite different.

Early Friends understood that God does not just address and teach individuals as individuals: God also addresses and teaches His people as a people. "Christ has come to teach his people himself," as George Fox put it. “God has given greater judgment to his church than the individual members of it,” wrote William Penn.

The Bible, indeed, gives illustrations of God instructing a group as a group, as for instance the story of Susanna (Daniel 13, which is omitted from Protestant Bibles), and also the story of the apostolic council at Jerusalem (Acts 15:1-29). The latter story provided the specific model that Friends followed in structuring their meetings for business. (Cf. Robert Barclay, The Anarchy of the Ranters, §VI.)

Early Friends actually had a fairly clear sense of the reasons why God might prefer to instruct His people as a people, rather than as individuals. It was clear that His people had to make policy decisions somehow, and it was quite clear to them that God did not want any single human being making these decisions for them all, in the fashion of the Pope or the King, because it was evident that such an autocratic approach led more or less inevitably to the corruption of the Church, and indeed had done so ever since the time of King David. Thus William Dewsbury pointed out, “There should not be a man in Israel to rule one over another, but ... the rule and authority of man should be overturned, & Christ alone rule in the hearts and spirits of his people.” Corporate decision-making removes the rule of any single man, and replaces it with the rule of Christ speaking in the hearts of all.

In one general letter, James Nayler advised Friends to “meet often together and wait upon God for his teaching ... in a cross to your own wills, for therein is the secrets of God revealed.” Corporate discernment provides better discernment in the long run, because it crucifies the wayward will of the individual — whether that individual is a leader or a follower.

“All Friends, submit yourselves one to another, in the fear of God,”

wrote George Fox in one letter, and in another one he elaborated,

“let nothing be done with strife, but in love, to the glory of God, in the name of God, and in his power; so that you may all see and feel Christ among you, ordering you all to his glory with his wisdom, which is pure, peaceable, and easy to be entreated; so that none may be burdened nor oppressed in your meetings.”

Corporate discernment involves practice in submission to one another — mutual servanthood, such as Christ taught at the Last Supper (John 13:3-17) — and practice, too, in dwelling together in the state of reconciliation that is Christ himself. Corporate discernment is transformative in necessary ways.

All this, however, does not mean that early Friends wanted the prophetic leadings of individuals squelched, as so often happened in Friends communities in subsequent generations, including our own. They were constantly repeating the apostle Paul’s adjuration that congregations must “quench not the spirit” where it arises. Fox said it forcefully in a letter of 1656, titled To Friends, about Christ having the best room:

“Quench not the Spirit nor despise prophecy where it moves.... You that stop it yourselves do not quench it in others.... The sighs and groans of the poor, judge not that ... lest you judge prayer. ... Every one exercise this gift and every one speak as the Spirit gives them utterance. And Friends be careful how that you do set your feet among the tender plants that is springing up out of God's earth lest you do hurt them and tread upon them and bruise them or crush them in God's vineyard.”

In another letter Fox went further and advised, “Be one with the witness of God in all, and look at that....” Or in other words, Practice feeling what the witness feels, and seeing through her or his eyes. William Dewsbury wrote in a similar spirit, “Dear people of God, be tender over the least breathings of God's Spirit in one another.” Be tender. In other words, Be sensitive to what is being said.

So what is involved in this practice is something quite different from community-building. It is a particular way of connecting to God, and being changed thereby, that the rest of the world does not know. If we lose that way, and come to treat it as community-building, then we have lost an essential part of what makes us Friends.

All the best,
Marshall

Qualities of a Quaker worship community

A short while ago while traveling in southern Oregon, I worshiped with South Mountain Friends in Ashland. A couple of us shared after worship that we each had been reflecting on Thomas Gates' pamphlet Members One of Another.

In addition to thinking on the relationship between the meeting and its members, I was thinking about those who have written about the qualities of the Inward Light, especially Samuel Caldwell.* I then found myself considering what are some of the primary qualities of a healthy and vibrant Quaker worship community, be it a monthly meeting or a worship group.

*I believe I've read at least one other Friend's remarks on the topic but can't come up with who it was or with any link...


Qualities of a Quaker worship community

Provide spiritual nurture and pastoral care for one another. It seems like many meetings provide pastoral care pretty well: when a Friend is in crisis, our meetings rally around the person to help her or him over the hump, providing careful listening and regular support--be it financial, medical, familial, vocational. On the other hand, how regularly do we ask questions of one another about God or the Loving Principle in our lives, or how the Truth prospers, when our lives aren't in turmoil...? Must we wait for workshops or adult education sessions to learn of and share about our spiritual lives? Must spiritual nurture be limited to confidential clearness committees and ad hoc care committees?

Welcome the stranger as one of our own. I sometimes fantasize that as worship breaks, the Friend who closes worship rises and says, "Before we move into announcements and introductions of visitors, please look around the room and if you see someone near you who you don't know, please welcome them and introduce yourself to them..." It seems like a challenge to discipline ourselves so as not to rush across the meetingroom at the rise of meeting in order to talk to a fellow committee member, when what we could do is take the time to welcome the stranger and the visitor to meeting, asking these newcomers why they came that particular day, what their experience of worship was, and what questions they have about Quakerism.

Call out and provide stewardship for each other's spiritual gifts. Especially in large meetings, this task seems to have been relegated to the Nominating Committee. But what about the spiritual gifts that don't apply to "regular" committee service? What about the Friend who has a gift for providing hospitality when people come to visit in her home? or the Friend who can build an intergenerational community through storytelling and games? or the back-bencher who whispers spot-on insights to his neighbor during Meetings for Worship for Business? How do we ourselves feel when someone "finally" affirms a talent, gift, or perspective we have but feel like few others ever notice? I have had the opportunity to witness one Friend in particular who will say, "I wonder if Such-and-so Friend could help us with that particular task, since I see she (or he) has a gift for such-and-so..." It's one way the worship community becomes responsible for the nurture and stewardship of the spiritual gifts among us, since these gifts belong not to the individual but to the community.

cf. Lloyd Lee Wilson has an excellent chapter on "Community Stewardship of our Spiritual Gifts" in his book of essays on Gospel Order.

Guide one another into greater faithfulness, discipline, humility, obedience, and love. In order to offer such guidance, we have to be willing to share our vulnerabilities, our leadings, our struggles, and our overall experience of the Inward Teacher more openly with one another and with the community as a whole. We learn not only by formal study and by informal discussion but also through watching how we conduct our lives both in and outside of the meetingroom. When under stress, do we take time out to pray and to seek God's guidance? During a conflict within our meeting, do we respond to others harshly or with kindness? When a particular activity goes well, are there Friends who insist on grabbing all the credit, or is there gratitude for the Spirit for having led us into such a happy opportunity?

Knit together the corporate body in the Spirit and sustain the corporate nature of the faith's tradition. This is perhaps the least tangible, least visible element of our worship communities. There's a wordless, visceral experience, though, when we are gathered as a corporate body, whether it be during a Meeting for Worship on the occasion of a marriage, or having a special event to celebrate all the young people in the meeting. That said, there are ways to watch and listen for the increeping of individualism in our Quaker community, such as giving weight to personal and individual preferences; the use of the phrase "I think we should..." or "I'd like to see us..."; the (unintended?) attempt to hold a meeting for worship for business hostage by saying "I'm going to stand in the way of that decision" or the more subtle "I'm not in unity with that decision so therefore we don't have sense of the meeting and can't move forward."

How to live into a vibrant and healthy Quaker community

Here are a few specific steps we can take to strengthen and deepen our worship communities as Friends.

Study together: Scripture, Quaker writings. By studying and learning about our faith tradition together, we develop a shared language about Quakerism. We also develop a shared understanding about our earliest roots, about our growth as a "people to be gathered," and about the people and events that continue to shape who we are in modern times.

Worship together. During tragic events; to honor momentous occasions; during times of struggle; and out of a yearning for healing, worship is our touchstone where we come to lay aside our personal agendas and to lift up our hearts, be it in celebration or in sorrow. Contrary to what it looks like to those visitors unaccustomed to Quaker worship, we are not individuals sitting in a dead silence: we are seekers of the Truth who yearn to know God's message for us, to live out God's call in our daily lives, individually and as a body joined in the Spirit.

Cherish one another as family. Bitterness toward our fellow worshiper cannot easily coexist with our desire to cherish one another. We can learn to love one another without condoning irresponsible or disrespectful behavior: it is a discipline for which we need much practice--and much forgiveness when we ourselves fall short. But let us try what Love can do, regardless.

Provide measures of loving accountability. In a healthy, vibrant Quaker community, there is what I call an "appropriate nosiness" for us to engage in with one another. Surprisingly, setting limits and providing accountability--such as testing our leadings with one another and meeting with a care-and-accountability committee--can be a source of support and spiritual nurture. When we understand that such things are part and parcel of Quakerism's practice, we feel cared for when members of our Quaker worship community engage with us around sharing our spiritual gifts and around our steps and missteps on the way to being faithful to God's call.

Labor together... and stay to see the results over time. Sometimes it is easier after a hard, contentious decision has been made to leave the community altogether, especially if things did not go "our" way. As a corporate body, staying despite the pain or disillusionment allows the community to reflect on how things are going afterward, whether or not there are fruits of the Spirit, or how good or poor those fruits actually are. Plus, when we are struggling with one another, those may be the times when God breaks through and reveals a new way to move forward. Laboring together can also mean finding a service project or a hands-on activity in which to participate as a worship community. Sometimes unknown gifts are brought into the Light when we are taken out of our comfort zone and we are forced to draw on resources that we otherwise hadn't known were available to us. New voices among us might be drawn out; previously hidden skills may appear, and we learn anew who we are as a community.

Bear witness together. Similar to laboring with one another, bearing witness together can develop or strengthen a sense of interdependence, a reliance on one another when witnessing to Truth in public or against "the establishment" may feel risky or even dangerous. Bearing witness can also be less visible--not as confrontational--while still carrying weight because the entire worship community has agreed to take action together. When we feel responsible to a group we care for, we are likely to engage in action to which the group as a whole has committed itself.

Point out to one another when individualism is threatening to take hold and then re-engage our corporate practice. When our Quaker worship community and the worshipers within it are surrounded by the distractions and even lusts of the secular world, even Quakerism's corporate nature can be undermined by the wider culture that swirls around us. We need one another to remind us of our Quaker heritage, of the disciplines of corporate worship and corporate discernment, of the practice of waiting on the Lord rather than making decisions out of convenience of time or of money.

Speak openly of our struggles, joys, and successes in following the Inward Teacher. We grow our identity as Friends and sustain our worship communities as Quakers by telling our stories of God in our lives and by remembering the roots of where our peculiar practices, vocabulary, and witness come from. If we gather only for worship, we miss the opportunity to hear about the rest of our lives as we strive to put our faith into action.

Critical mass, "togetherness," and being a corporate body

As I was finishing up my list of the qualities of a Quaker worship community, I realized I wanted to address the concept of doing things "together" as it relates to the corporate body.

"Being a corporate body" does not mean having 100% of the body together 100% of the time, but it does mean striving to have 100% of the body engaged in the entire life of the community over time.

By "life of the community," I mean worship; meetings for worship for business; committee service; projects involving the community; intergenerational activities; care and nurture of our youngest and of our eldest community members; and so on.

It's unrealistic to assume that everyone within a Quaker meeting or worship group will be available to participate in a given activity on a given day. But it is realistic to assume--and I would say reasonable to expect--that over time, everyone will be able to participate in a given activity; that no one will completely and forever stay away from worship, or from meeting for worship for business, or from an opportunity to bear witness against injustice.

The element of participating in a corporate body together is more than having critical mass for any single event. Through worship, struggle, witness, service projects, adult education, intergenerational activities, learning about Quakerism, there is a cumulative experience that occurs over time and it is the cumulative experience among Friends that both shapes and is shaped by the worshiping community and all of its participants.

As always, thanks for reading me.

Blessings,
Liz

RELATED POSTS:

Martin Kelley's suggestion that we invite a newcomer to lunch is the Outreachiest Program Ever

my blog post that refers to critical mass of a Quaker meeting in light of weddings and memorials

Worship, community service, and a meeting's identity

At Meeting for Worship with attention to Business today--at 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday, an experiment that we as a meeting are engaged in--a Friend reflected on the dualism that Quakers are about two things: worship and service.

There is a balance to be struck between the two. If we worship for too long without taking ourselves out of our meetinghouses, we cannot do God's work in the world. If we only participate in acts of service, we potentially exhaust ourselves and risk losing our spiritual grounding and connection to the Inward Teacher, the Inner Light.

The comment about worship and service was made when Nominating Committee asked us to reflect on what it's been like since we as a meeting have gone without an active Community Service Committee and without an active Peace and Social Action Committee for a few years.

Friends spoke about a couple of larger projects that we no longer participate in because of the lack of logistical support that the committees used to provide. Other Friends spoke about the good works and steady witness provided by individuals in the meeting--Joe Friend attends peace vigils regularly; Lisa Friend writes letters to elected officials; Chris Friend drops off food at the local food pantry; Annie Friend every once in a while helps out with feeding people who are homeless.

After several minutes, I was stirred to bring up a different point, though we were asked to move on to consider other business.

What I see is that if we are to revive either the Peace and Social Action Committee or the Community Service Committee, then we must be willing to step into and work to sustain a new identity for ourselves, as a meeting--an identity that says We care about the communities in which we live and worship; we are witnessing to the world a way of peace and love; and we will not tolerate injustice.

It would be a tremendous experiment, and it would take time, effort, and commitment--not by a committee but from the corporate body.

Then again, it was a risky experiment to hold Meeting for Worship for Business on a Saturday morning, after decades of conducting business on First Day afternoons or on a weekday evening. Though many Friends suspected that the turn-out would be small and inconsequential, there were in fact more Friends there this morning than there have been in a good many years.

The clerk said to me during the break, "I think our energy is better in the morning, and that is helping us tend to business." I agreed with him. After the initial worry passed of how tired or small in number we'd be, we seemed to settle well and remained grounded for much of the morning.

Could we actually embrace, as a meeting, the "new way of doing business"--or at least the new time?

This is a question very similar to what I felt we were being asked by Nominating Committee:

Could we see ourselves, as a meeting, engaging in new or revived forms of service? Could we knit ourselves together in the name of lifting others up? Could we shift our energy away from the meeting activities and family busyness in which we are typically involved in order to make ourselves available to a different Purpose?

Still, something troubled me.

Another Friend offered a question--or at least this is the question that I heard, even if it wasn't the question that the Friend stated: What about the committees that Friends are currently serving on? What if we need those gifts on those committees at this time?

Yes, well...

If we are going to shift the balance from worship and inward service (e.g. committees) to witness and outward service (e.g. community), then we are going to have to be willing to use our "discretionary time" differently. We are going to have to be willing to have smaller or fewer committees, to do fewer social activities within meeting, and perhaps to do fewer social activities outside of meeting.

When I say "we," I don't mean the Friends in the meeting we know who always show up at political events or at peace marches. I mean the Friends who talk about how important it is to engage in service or to have a peace witness--and that has included Your Truly--and we need to hold ourselves accountable to talk less and walk-the-talk, walk the walk more.

That's where the corporate life of the Quaker community comes in. I have been helped to step outside of myself and move beyond my comfort zone by those with whom I worship. They have invited me to participate in an activity that otherwise would intimidate me; they have been there for me, spiritually holding my hand.

I've gone to another faith community's open house and I've visited in the hospital someone who was barely an acquaintance. And when I've felt vulnerable or unsafe or uneasy in those circumstances, I was able to share that openly with my fellow worshipers. I could keep on the path, putting one foot in front of the other.

We need each other. We need to invite one another and encourage one another to "do the thing we think we cannot do." We need to work with one another as we grow into our new possibility, shed our previous identity, and explore our new identity as a faith community, as a worship group, as a meeting.

Blessings,
Liz

P.S. For a post that touches on a similar theme, read Mary Linda's My discomfort is my lack of discomfort.

Memorials and weddings in covenant community

The monthly meeting here has had three or four meetings for worship for memorial in the past 18 months or so. All of them have occurred during my stint as a member of the meeting's Ministry & Counsel, with varying degrees of involvement from M&C and from individual members of the meeting.

Attendance at these memorial worships has varied as well. Sometimes there has been a large turnout from the monthly meeting, such as when a particularly visible Friend has passed. Other times there has been a much smaller turnout of Friends, even if the family of the Friend who has died is also a part of the meeting.

What I want to know is: Why is it that at each and every memorial, an overwhelmingly large majority of the meeting community doesn't show up? What gives?

I worry about the impact of the secular world on the nature of our covenant community as Friends. The in-creeping of the world seems to have encroached into our meetings to such an extent that many of us can now feel ourselves simply excused from attending memorials--and even weddings--by saying we don't know the Friend who has died "well enough" or we don't know the couple that is getting married.

I worry that our meeting community has gotten so big that we forget--or worse, we don't even think about--how we are a part of a spiritual family. Getting involved doesn't fall only on "those people over there who knew him better" or "that committee that always takes care of arrangements." It falls to all of us, because we are in a community that has a special relationship to each other and to God.

And yet...

As a meeting community, we seem to continue to devalue or "miss" the importance of the shared experience that occurs when we are brought together in a corporate way, for worship. Add to that the reality that these days, it's harder to sustain even a small web of meaningful relationships. That goes for us as a meeting community, too.

In a world where there is so much competing for our attention, we who are convinced Friends need to hear from long-time Friends about our responsibility to attend and witness weddings and memorials, and to help ground the space in the Spirit. Elders and other Friends in the meeting need to make it clear to newer Friends that this is a part of our work and service as a covenant community.

If we're not there for each other at the best of times and at the worst of times, how can we expect our fellow community members to be spiritually present in the most mediocre or or the most average of times?

Blessings,
Liz

P.S. Full disclosure: I feel as though there is more to be shared, but I cannot seem to grasp what it is. Perhaps one of you reading this will bring more Light to the topic...

RELATED POSTS:

my post on Qualities of a Quaker worship community

my post on the dangers of not speaking openly about Quakerism

Quakers and politics (RNC)

There has been lots going on in my town, as Paul L reports better than I could.

I agree with Paul that the called Meeting for Worship was deep, rich, and in a word, covered. It mattered little that a number of worshipers spoke twice; that questions (and answers) were interspersed in the worship; that Friends trickled in throughout the hour and even after worship broke.

In our own thick night of darkness, the LORD was felt.

I was moved to speak about remembering who is our Authority, who is it that we follow; and I offered up a bit of a prayer for strength that I might find a way to embrace even the police who seem to be asserting an authority that I cannot follow.

I also was struck when another Friend began singing the very same song that I had running through my own mind:

Ain't gonna let nobody turn me around
Turn me around
Turn me around
Ain't gonna let nobody turn me around
Gonna keep on a'walking, keep on a'talking
Marching down to Freedom's land

For those wishing updates and snippets about police response to protests and demonstrations, go to this Twitter-based website. It's updated frequently and the website helped me understand why the anti-war march was delayed in getting started and why buses stopped running through a certain part of town--both because of police activities in response to a "splinter" group of protesters.

(The big local newspapers have been spotty with their coverage thus far, in my opinion.)

On a related topic, I felt as though there has been a thread of a corporate response from the meeting. There was a sense of being gathered together in worship and out of a desire to companion the "well-respected member of our meeting" whom Paul L references, and to participate in the march that occurred today (Paul's post has links).

It was that sense of corporate action, corporate prayer, and corporate faithfulness that lifted me above my own anxieties and helped me attend the march, despite the 90-degree temperature and my propensity for heat exhaustion.

Blessings,
Liz

UPDATE, 5 Ninth Month 2008:
There is now a video clip from a press conference held by what has been known as the RNC Welcoming Committee. It addresses topics such as who is and who isn't anarchist or terrorist; conditions in jail for some protesters; and questionable police raids. NOTE: I don't know how long the link will be active.

More about individualism and the corporate nature of Quakerism

NOTE: A slightly different version of these remarks first appeared as a comment in response to the post about individualism on the Friends of Color blog.

I appreciate this dialogue and the many points that Friends have lifted up and have been wrestling with. Thanks, Tania, for opening up a complex topic.

It's true that modern Friends are quick to quote George Fox and consider the relationship between God and the individual:

I heard a voice which said, "There is one, even Jesus Christ, that can speak to thy condition": and when I heard it, my heart did leap for joy.

It's also true that we affirm that God can speak directly to any of us, individually, at any time, if we but lay aside our personal ambitions and listen.

George Fox also writes:

Christ has come to teach his people himself.

Where modern Liberal Friends have put emphasis on the individual, other Friends remind us to consider that Christ is teaching us-as-a-people, not us as distinct individuals.

(See Lloyd Lee Wilson's essay "Wrestling with Our Faith Tradition" in his collected writings of the same name or online here, beginning on page 3.)

But there is more to Quakerism than just the belief that God can speak to any of us at any time. I would say that we do an injustice to our faith tradition when we lift up this element above any others.

Perhaps by coincidence but perhaps not, the worship group has begun reading Lloyd Lee's Essays on the Quaker Vision of Gospel Order, and I've just reread a long section that speaks to the "gestalt" of Quakerism (Chapter 2). In that section, Lloyd Lee echoes some of the concern I'm wanting to express:

The faith community as an entity and the individuals who make up the faith community nourish and nurture each other in vital ways... There is a communion with God which takes place in the context of the faith community that can not be replicated in solitude...

There are a number of significant implications of this understanding of Quakerism as a community gestalt; perhaps the most important derives from the fact that a gestalt can not be separated into its component parts without losing its identity. --pp. 20-22; emphasis mine

To me, these words very much speak to the perception that Quakerism focuses on the individual and therefore is an individualistic faith. Not so!

In fact, the importance of maintaining the corporate nature of our faith is stressed to some extent by George Fox, when he exhorts Friends in his 23rd epistle to "keep [our] meetings":

Friends-- Fear not the powers of darkness, but keep your meetings, and meet in that which keeps you over them; and in the power of God ye will have unity.

And dwell in love and unity one with another, and know one another in the power of an endless life, which doth not change... (emphasis mine)

So I would say that there is an equally strong and relevant place for the corporate body, for worshiping together and not just for keeping the wild ones in check.

It's just that many of us have forgotten about the corporate nature of our faith, or we've downplayed it, or we think we understand it but we really don't, or we begin to scratch the surface of it and wonder how to learn more about it and experience it more fully.

The Quaker gestalt and the corporate nature of Quakerism extends beyond participating in Meeting for Worship and beyond attending Meeting for Worship with attention to Business. It helps point the way for how we interact with one another when we are away from the meetinghouse, when we are laboring with one another in committee work, when we are giving ourselves over to the Light so that we might ourselves be made low and return to the Service to which we are called.

In my case, it's taken me years to begin to grasp the slippery nature of our corporate faith. Also, I find I need to surround myself from time to time with Friends who value this part of our faith: it reminds me that there are multiple dimensions to Quakerism and it brings into balance, to some extent, the two elements of the Quaker gestalt that are most visible to me: the corporate and the individual.

I've mentioned elsewhere the creative tension between the individual and the community, between receiving and testing a leading on our own and bringing that leading to the gathered body (e.g. a clearness committee) for additional testing and discernment.

The trick is that our meetings, as a whole, must be willing to engage in the labor of understanding just how far to tilt the scales, whether it be toward the individual and each of our preferences, beliefs, and practices... or toward the corporate body and our accepted manner of joining together, not only in worship but also in other parts of our active community life.

Blessings,
Liz

ADDITIONAL POSTS from The Good Raised Up that continue exploring the corporate nature of Quakerism include:
The slippery nature of a corporate faith
The Great Jigsaw Puzzle
Report about Iowa Conservative's 2006 Midyear Meeting
Understanding what God wants

Coming under the weight of a concern

In recent months, I have wondered how to describe what it means for an individual, a committee, or a meeting to "come under the weight of a concern."

No matter how much experience a Friend has with the concern at hand, it doesn't seem like it's enough for that Friend to say, "This is important; we need to do something about it!"

In my experience, even if a larger group finds itself united with the concern--for example, witnessing to the support for the GLBTQ community--the group may never move from saying the words to taking the corresponding action or providing the relevant outward witness.

It worries me, frankly.

"The meeting is so large that we no longer know one another well enough to provide the pastoral care and nurture we wish to."

"Not enough Friends are stepping forward to serve on the committees or in positions that require the greatest amount of dedication and service but we can't twist people's arms to do that."

"The number of Friends who understand the foundation of our faith and what gives rise to Spirit-led vocal ministry is diminishing and we need to do something to revitalize the meeting."

"So few adults even know who the teenage Friends are in the meeting!"

All of these comments, or some variation, are things I have heard over the years and during my travels among Friends. Sometimes a committee addresses the concern and then presents a report to the meeting, which in turn often records a minute, hoping that that will move things along to resolution, to new practices, to greater cohesiveness.

But the more things change, the more they stay the same.

What is it, then, that stirs a committee, let alone a meeting, to come under the weight of a concern, to the extent that our inward condition is changed as well as our outward witness?

In addition, while I understand that much of this inner work is left to God and the workings on our heart of the Inward Light, I also believe that as a corporate body, God does work through us, speak through us, love through us. I worry that entire meetings might experience the promptings of the Spirit but end up dropping the ball rather than taking it the distance.

I worry because if our meetings are not faithful to the small nudges of the Spirit, how can we prepare ourselves to be faithful to the larger prompts and leadings off the Spirit?

Still, I can point to some comtemporary examples of a subgroup, monthly meeting, or yearly meeting that has come under the weight of a concern, to the extent that the faithfulness of these Friends is now bearing fruit:

In 2004, the Central Committee of Friends General Conference came under the weight of affirming that spiritual gifts are not distributed according to sexual orientation or gender identity. That minute and corresponding epistle still is causing some positive ripples among American Friends. It has also provided the challenging opportunity for liberal Friends and evangelical Friends, for North American Friends and African Friends to labor with one another around the same concern.

A number of years ago, the monthly meeting I was attending at the time discerned that it would bring the meeting community together in an intergenerational retreat setting. For a number of years after the initial experience, the meeting continued to offer the retreat annually, which allowed the whole of the meeting to see itself with new eyes and without the usual separations that occur during First Days (i.e. adults stay for worship; kids go to First Day School). Adults and children sang together, did crafts projects together, engaged in worship-sharing together. I believe the meeting still seeks opportunities to come together in fellowship as a whole, away from traditional First Day activities.

I remember being prodded and moved when I learned that New England Yearly Meeting had come under the weight of the concern to address racism. The minute that the yearly meeting approved mentions a "working party" within the yearly meeting's Ministry & Counsel--which says to me that the yearly meeting has made a commitment to carry this concern for a long time.

But what is it about these particular events that lend themselves to large-group action and commitment; to a sense of the meeting that is written in our hearts and brought forward in a living testimony based on the inward motion of the Spirit, rather than allowing the sense of the meeting to be frozen in words that are recorded on a page and placed into an archive somewhere?

Certainly each of these events required a few dedicated and faithful Friends... but each meeting certainly has some of those, right?

Certainly each of these events required close and careful listening for the movement of the Spirit and testing of what would be in harmony with bringing about the city of God right here, right now... but each meeting certainly engages in that sort of discernment process, right?

Or does it?

So I am left with asking the questions:

What does it mean to come under the weight of a concern? How do we help Friends understand what is meant by this concept?

How does a meeting or committee come under the weight of a concern? How do we know that's what's happened?

If it's "simply" a matter of experiencing the Shepherd's guidance together and then being faithful to following its Voice as a community, then why does it seem so many times we go astray?

If a group or meeting affirms that it is under the weight of a concern, how do we hold one another accountable to bearing that burden and participating in relevant activities over time, especially as a faith community?

How can a subgroup or a committee or a meeting ask Friends to come under the weight of a concern, especially if a clerk or if another subgroup doesn't see the value of the thing?

Somewhere in my heart, I feel I know the answer. Yet I wrestle with how to bring the concern forward of what it means to come under the weight of a concern.

It's a Catch-22: waiting for others to come under the weight of the concern for how we come under the weight of a concern...

Thank you, in advance, for helping me consider these questions prayerfully.

Blessings,
Liz

Friends Journal essay:On the significance of benches

This article appeared in the February 2007 issue of Friends Journal. Copyright © 2007 Friends Publishing Corporation; reprinted with permission. For further information: www.friendsjournal.org.

In the final worship at a recent session of Iowa Yearly Meeting (Conservative), I found myself reflecting on the keynote presenter’s tender words of gratitude for the benches on which more than a hundred of us sat, aware of the generations of Friends who had sat upon them for decades before us, in waiting worship, seeking to be brought into the arms of the Divine.

During these Iowa sessions, I’d had to submit to sharing a bench with at least three Friends, and often shared the bench with four or even five. I never had a bench to myself for more than a minute, and I could not fidget as readily as I can when I am sitting in a chair. At first I was spiritually claustrophobic—how could I worship with someone sitting so close to me? I wanted more elbow room so I could be alone with my worship! Eventually I made do with the Friends sitting on either side of me and yielded to the reason we were there: to worship together.

The benches were hard, even beneath the hand-sewn foam cushion that ran the length of each, but they provided me with some comfort and a peculiar sense of being connected with the Friends with whom I shared a bench for the hour.

In a covenantal religious society, the Divine, rather than the pressure to conform, instructs us. Among Friends, our gratification delayed, waiting until led to act, unprogrammed time in our day and in our week, faithfulness, being present to one another, and wrestling with issues large and small—all these elements of the Quaker faith community are part of the salve to heal wounds and spiritual deficits we seldom understand.

In the United States, society trumpets the power of the individual and all that we have at our fingertips. I can join the tens of thousands of others in Minneapolis who jump into their cars to go to work, to exercise, or to attend committee meetings. I can come home and flip on the television, prepare my own supper while my partner eats what she wants, and then retire to the computer, read some Quaker weblogs, listen to Mozart while she listens to Michael Franti in another room. With caller ID, I can decide whether or not to talk to my mother, who will likely ask when I spoke with my grandmother last. I can find an issue that irks me, draw up a poster with a few choice words, and attend a rally or vigil. I can speak out because the First Amendment says I can. And I can practice religion in the way I want because the Bill of Rights says I can.

In contrast, Quaker society and tradition calls us away from our individual lives so that we might worship, labor, play, and be nourished in a gathered community. Significant decisions are made through the discernment of the gathered community, not by a privileged and well-paid few; and a decision to take action may be held over from month to month, so that together we may test and season our understandings of how the Light is leading us.

In worship, despite the personal desire to push on, listening and waiting together can amplify the still, small voice in a way that disconnected individuals, tempted by our own freedoms and separated from a corporate body that yearns to move together, might not be able to hear. At times we are compelled to be present not only with other Friends but also with friends and strangers beyond the walls of the meetinghouse, to lift one another—any “other”—up with a tender hand.

I remember a time, on a quiet but busy road during rush hour, when a minivan and a bike scraped each other enough to disrupt traffic. As I drove past, I saw on the roadside the driver and the biker point fingers, trade angry looks, and exchange words. I wanted to pass them by like the drivers did in the oncoming traffic, but I was compelled to stop. I asked if they were all right, and I acknowledged the surprise they each must have felt when they were aware, too late, of each other’s presence in their respective paths.

At first, they looked at me as if I had just walked into their bedroom during an intimate embrace. Eventually, each of them took a big breath, checked for scrapes and bruised egos, shared their phone numbers, and apologized for yelling at each other. They were beginning to express care for one another. When we each got back to our own vehicles and parted ways, I wondered, were we too eager to forget about what had happened so we could return to our independent, insulated lives?

I’ve been keeping a small dry-erase board on my desk, where I write the names of F/friends with whom I wish to keep in touch, or who need a helping hand. At the top is the word I use to organize the list: “Community.” I still must discipline myself to reach out to them and carve out some time to sit or talk with them. I’ve been trained to focus on me, me, me, and I am frustrated and easily lulled by the U.S. anthems of individualism and instant gratification.

It occurs to me that I must apply this same discipline to meeting for worship, since the same isolating forces are at work there, too. In other meetinghouses where I have worshiped, there are more often chairs than benches for worshipers. But during those few days at Iowa Conservative’s midyear meeting, I sank into the Seed and felt the unity of being yoked together on that bench.

Sharing a bench brought home for me the necessity to join other Friends in the act of corporate waiting worship. I hungered to keep to and share in that unspoken agreement. The temptation, though, was to pressure myself to be extra quiet, to be extra un-fidgety, like forcing myself not to think of a pink elephant and then only being able to think of one.

I felt a Life and a Power that seemed to unite Friends at the midyear meeting, and I attribute it to the sense of our having being joined together in our love of the Spirit and in our love of one another. There seemed to be an unspoken, common understanding that our individual freedoms took a back seat to God’s call and to our involvement within the Quaker community. The bench became a symbol of that covenantal yoke for me. Our joy came from being yoked to one another, learning from each other, and sharing in the work of helping a group of individuals be joined together as a faith community.

Is it too easy for us as modern Friends to slip into chairs that can be moved slightly this way or that, in rooms that are large enough to accommodate not just our worshipers but all of our supersized personal space? Is there a discipline we can practice to keep society’s freedoms an arm’s length away and allow ourselves the treasure of knowing one another inside and outside of worship, in that which is Eternal?

Blessings,
Liz

RELATED POSTS:

2006 Midyear Meeting at IYM(C)

Chairs on Quaker Street

Spiritual intimacy, Part III Corporate practice

I remain perplexed and frustrated by the difficulty I have with articulating my yearning for Friends to reclaim or understand the corporate nature of our faith. I laugh at myself sometimes, though, (1) because it isn't up to me to have our corporate practices revitalized; and (2) because I think I have seen clear examples of moving together as a body in the most unexpected places, like television reality shows.

Take the television show The Biggest Loser, for example. One of the episodes had the remaining contestants do a mini-triathalon of swimming, biking, and running. If I remember correctly, they were no longer in teams at this point of the show; they were competing individually.

During the swimming, one of the men just couldn't keep up and in fact seemed to be struggling. The other women and men were pretty far along in the swimming portion of the challenge, but one of the contestants called out to the group and suggested to them that they swim back to the struggling swimmer. They ended up all finishing the swimming portion together; no one had balked at the idea of being slowed down by their fellow contestant (unless of course it was edited out!); and the group all began the second leg of the triathalon together, too.

The corporate nature of our faith is something like that, moving together as a group, in synch with the Spirit and with each other, as to how fast to move, what direction to head, and how to get the finish line--together. Sometimes it means waiting on a single Friend who seems to be struggling and who clearly wants to be connected with and bound to the movement of the group. Sometimes it means we must labor with that Friend until at least he or she is clear that the work of the Spirit is somehow being impeded, and so he or she must yield and, as we say, "stand aside."

When we engage in corporate discernment, when we take the time to welcome a new committee member and bring that Friend up to speed, or when we involve even the youngest community member in our meetinghouse clean-up days, we are extending an opportunity for growing and moving together. We are demonstrating a bit of spiritual hospitality that, when our own time of struggle comes, might be extended to us.

It is not only a case of "Let us try what Love can do."

It is also a case of Let Love try us.

Blessings,
Liz

RELATED POSTS:
Spiritual intimacy, the original post in the series
Spiritual intimacy, part II
The slippery nature of our corporate faith

For the love of Quakerism

Over on Lorcan's blog, Plain in the City, there is an important post--and a great many comments--about the potential divisiveness about speaking the name "Jesus" and other Christian language used among Quakers.

The more I sat with Lorcan's post and all of the comments, the more I pondered what it is that I may have to say. The more I worked on crafting a comment, the more I felt I wanted to lift up some of my own experience. So here it is.

First of all, what comes across to me is that making our faith public to non-Quakers is one thing, but when we make our faith public to other Friends, we begin to discover that we don't necessarily agree with one another about what Quakerism means or how it might be practiced. Not just worship but all of it: spiritual discernment, testing leadings, mutual accountability, yielding and staying low...

Having lived with and labored over some of these concerns during the past 2-3 years, here is the current understanding I have:

In the end, we all wish to belong, to feel safe. And we all have a drive to protect and nurture what we love.

In this case, "what we love" is the experience we know as our Quakerism. And each of us experiences it, practices it, and defines it differently, thereby potentially dividing us.

But it's not just the name Jesus and related Christian theology that potentially divides us. It's also the belief and the unbelief in God that we have that may split the Religious Society once more.

And I would say again, as I labor with Friends, that it is in the loving of Quakerism that we are, in part, united.

Having said that, and because of references within Lorcan's post and related comments about Friends who leave their meetings, let me confess that I am one of those Friends who has been slowly moving away from my own monthly meeting. My movement is largely related to this "united in love, divided by difference" theme.

I wouldn't say that the meeting is divided over Jesus' name. I wouldn't say that use of Jesus' name began to rub me the wrong way as an individual, despite my upbringing. I wouldn't even say that it was the growing visibility of nontheist Friends or the challenges they bring and how we all might labor with one another in seeking the Truth.

[ASIDE: I have to say about the essay linked to "the challenges they bring": for the more God-centered Friend, this essay on "religious skeptics" is worth reading--especially when read without getting "hooked" into debating each point. This essay has opened me unexpectedly... -Liz]

My backing away--or heading towards something more fulfilling, depending on how you look at it: the glass half-full or half-empty--is in part a result of one meeting's desire to embrace both a God-based faith-and-practice of Quakerism and a nontheistic faith-and-practice of Quakerism.

Now, I didn't disappear from the monthly meeting just because I recognized my growing dissatisfaction and rising concern. There had been no single precipitating incident within the meeting that I would describe as unpalatable.

Instead, as I became aware of my uneasiness, I sat with the concern, desiring to understand what was getting under my skin. I talked about it with others within and outside of the meeting community. I held my relationship with the meeting in the Light. Eventually I requested a discernment committee to help me understand my relationship to the meeting and to let M&C know that something was amiss for me.

(One of the gifts of this process was that I learned experimentally what is meant by being released or not being released by the Spirit. God had not released me then in my participation in the meeting. I could have left, but I did not feel released.)

It is only in retrospect that I can reframe what was going on during that committee time, which lasted several months. It is only in retrospect that I can see what it was that united those of us on the committee, despite our differences in belief, our differences in how we individually viewed my concern, and our differences in how we felt about the life and direction of the meeting.

What united us was love for our individual experience of Quakerism.

True: I still disagree with most Friends about the state of the meeting, and I now see my concern being based in what happens when secular individual freedoms intersect that with traditional Quaker religious practice.

Putting these various pieces together, it seems as though our shared desire as Friends to protect the Quakerism we love is expressed in at least two ways:

Emphasis on the individual experience: "Quakerism is our religion and any of us can believe or not believe what we want. Our shared experience is primarily worship."

Emphasis on the corporate experience: "Quakerism is a shared practice of seeking and finding the Light together. Our individual experience is primarily living faithful lives."

And still: What unites us as Friends is that individually and corporately, we love our Quakerism and what it provides us. And we will safeguard that which we love.

Now, two years after that discernment committee was laid down, I have come into greater acceptance that many Friends in the monthly meeting are nourished by the above emphasis on the individual experience of Quakerism; that they grow because they have room to believe or not believe in God.

And yes, I have concerns about a Quakerism that is skewed so heavily toward the individual. It is a spiritual concern that I have carried for a number of months now and have written elsewhere, for example about the slippery nature of our corporate faith.

I don't yet know or understand how to prevent my love of Quakerism from being in conflict with someone else's love of Quakerism. But I still believe in the transformative nature of the Light, however it is defined.

Well.

Throughout writing and revising this post, and for a time before this topic was ever lifted up by Lorcan, I have had this story of Solomon recur to me:

Two women come before King Solomon with a baby, each claiming to be the mother. Solomon orders the baby be cut in half. One woman is prepared to accept the decision, but the other begs the king to allow the baby to live and to give the child to the other woman.

Blessings,
Liz

The slippery nature of a corporate faith

Over on Paul L's Showers of Blessings, there is a conversation about the well-known analogy of the elephant and a group of blind men describing it to one another. Within the comments, Friend Phil raises this beautiful question:

What I really fail to understand is, why can't we all love one another and worship together?

Here he and I are, standing side by side, hands on the elephant.

I would say to my neighbor Phil: Quakerism and the search for Truth does allow us to love one another, and we can and do worship together.

AND, I would add, in Quakerism, and in the search for Truth, and in the experience of Truth, and in the hands-on-the-elephant analogy, talking about the elephant is different from getting to know the elephant; and how we each get to know the elephant is different for each of us.

For me, I want to come close to the Living Presence and listen for its loving direction--and that may not be what some Friends are seeking to do, or even are able to do, in Meeting for Worship, because of their religious beliefs.


Leaving or staying from a place of love

I can worship with my neighbor, yes, but I wish to open myself to an experience with a Presence that a different neighbor also shares; to open myself, in fact, to an experience that a good many "neighbors" have shared over the past 350 years.

And when I seek to worship with these other neighbors, with these other Friends, and when such worship brings me a new joy and a new path, I will hope that Friends like Friend Phil might say, "Oh, how wonderful that you have that experience with the elephant! Keep at it! I am so enjoying my own experience as well..."

Why would I not seek to continue to worship amidst a group that, for me, so frequently brings me closer to what I call God or the Holy Spirit? Who would deny me such joy?

And yes, I can still return to worship with Friend Phil. My leave-taking from a particular meeting community does not mean I condemn it or disown it--though I can understand that Friends may perceive that I do.

Just this First Day, yesterday, at the rise of meeting (at the monthly meeting), an older Friend who had noticed my absence over recent weeks approached me and said, "I hope you aren't thinking of leaving the meeting..."

I took a deep breath and replied, "The truth is, I probably will." (It hadn't occurred to me just then to say, "I am being led elsewhere, I believe.")

The Friend kindly added, "But I would like to think that the meeting has a broad enough diversity to embrace you and your beliefs."

Now: I know her intentions are in the right place. The words of this Friend mirrors the question that Friend Phil lifts up:

Why can't we all love one another and worship together?

I took another deep breath: "I am the type of Friend who needs a narrower experience of Quakerism for me to grow as a Friend, not a broad diversity of belief. But I understand that this meeting brings you much joy in your experience as a Friend, as does the worship group for me."

I don't know to what extent this Friend understands my experience, yet the question remains for me to hold and discern:

If the Way is shut for me to experience a corporate faith in a particular meeting, how do I leave--or stay--and do so from a place of love?

I can love many within meeting, and I can worship with many within meeting, but God calls me, today, to worship regularly in a community where corporately we listen for God.


Spiritual individualism

Sometimes among Friends, we fall unawares into a shared spiritual individualism: We each practice our own spiritual discipline on First Day during worship and appreciate how we can come to meeting and worship together, despite our differences of belief and even practice.

In unprogrammed worship, some of us may engage in meditation that is borrowed from one discipline or another; others simply let the outer world slip away and enjoy the meetingroom's stillness; still others may pursue a form of therapeutic self-talk (this was a former practice of mine, for example).

I have to wonder if we create this shared hour of unprogrammed individual spiritual practice because the first nature of a Quaker community is to be open and welcoming to worshipers of all faiths: "Love is the first motion," to quote John Woolman completely out of context.

Moreover, because we in fact share the experience of unprogrammed worship over the course of weeks and years, many of us believe that unprogrammed worship is enough, that Meeting for Worship with our individual disciplines is the core of Quakerism, and we should love one another and therefore continue to worship together.

I do believe that, yes, for many Friends, this experience is the core of their Quakerism. I also am concerned that it has become taboo for Friends like me, who have another experience of Quakerism and of worship, to call into question where that apparent core of Quakerism comes from:

the corporate experience of listening for and seeking Truth together.

But when a boundary is articulated as I have just done, that boundary is often interpreted as passing judgement: right--wrong; good--bad; Quaker--not Quaker.

I'm beginning to wonder if that boundary can be reframed as distinctive between liberal Friend--Conservative Friend. But even this distinction is overly simplistic.


Historical faith, contemporary faith

From my experience, I have come to question if Quakerism as an historical faith is a corporate faith; and Quakerism as a contemporary faith is, among liberal Friends, an individualistic one.

By historical, I do not mean that it is dead and exists only in the past. I mean that it has a rich tradition, cultivated over history, that exists today. Sometimes the historical Quaker faith exists in disconnected pieces today, like the Biblical authority of some evangelical Friends, and the power of continuing revelation of some Conservative and liberal Friends. Sometimes the historical and contemporary elements of Quakerism are integrated into a balanced whole, referencing the Bible while also identifying some new Light that has been revealed to them.

Furthermore, among some Friends, an historical Quakerism is being renewed, and the yearning of a Spirit-led, shared faith experience is reigniting individuals, small communities, and Quaker publishers.


Putting "corporate faith" into words

A corporate faith is hard to put into words, in part because we as Americans are inundated with individualism in our culture. Just look on the streets as you walk, bike, or drive, and see how many cars have a single passenger in them. Or count how many televisions are in the household of our non-Quaker brothers and sisters, or even how many computers there are in our own (one TV--without cable or satellite--but three computers in my own household, for example).

I know we're not in the Me Generation any longer, but we remain in the Me culture.

A corporate faith puts That Which Is Eternal ahead of me, myself, and I. A corporate faith goes beyond a shared weekly hour of unprogrammed worship. In Meeting for Worship for Business, we do not seek to know what each individual desires for an outcome and work towards consensus, but we seek to know how Spirit, the Light, a Higher Love is moving among us, and we work towards understanding the the sense of the meeting.

I am grateful for the Friend who in business session speaks up to remind us that we must practice the discipline of laying aside what it is that we each want for ourselves and listen for what it is that God wants for us corporately, as a body.

The nature of explaining a corporate faith, even to those of us who practice it, is very slippery. I often fall into language that betrays my own personal preference, rather than weigh my preference with God's guidance or test my preference against the practiced discernment of the group.

But I very much lean on the truth of my experience of the quality of worship when I am worshiping with Friends who believe there is a Living Presence among us, and we rest in that Presence and open ourselves to that Presence together, as a body, each First Day.


The damsel in distress

In writing this piece, I have come across this question:

Do we love only the worship experience, or do we also love the faith tradition that gives birth to the worship?

The love that we have developed for spiritual individualism, for unprogrammed worship, for the apparent freedom to worship and believe as we wish, becomes the damsel in distress that we mistakenly believe we must protect, even at the expense of losing our kingdom.

Perhaps we don't need to protect the damsel. Perhaps we need to protect the kingdom in which she lives.

Blessings,
Liz

ADDITIONAL POSTS from The Good Raised Up that continue exploring the corporate nature of Quakerism include:
The Great Jigsaw Puzzle
Report about Iowa Conservative's 2006 Midyear Meeting
Understanding what God wants
More about individualism and the corporate nature of Quakerism

UPDATE: Seventh Month 2006. ANOTHER POST that speaks to the corporate ethic of Friends is from Marshall's Earthwitness Journal.

The first half of this particular post provides excellent descriptions of the corporate practice and nature of Quakerism. Also worthwhile in this post is an excerpt from Rufus Jones about an incident on the farm where Jones grew up.

UPDATE: Fourth Month 2008. This is great: ANOTHER POST that continues the exploration about corporate worship, by Peter at Quaker Pagan Reflections.