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This was a good weekend, and I’m very grateful for Steve Angell’s
companionship and support. I cannot give a full report on what I said.
I came with my head full of the phrases from early Quaker writings and
the Bible which have pierced my heart at one time or another, and wove
them into ministry out of the silence.
First, some background
This fall I had the opportunity to teach two classes on early Quakers to students at Thornton Friends School where I am now working. Our students are not Quakers, but they do sit in silent meeting for twenty minutes twice a week, and know the discipline of worship sharing (we call it “circles”). I knew that to reach a bunch of non-Quaker high schoolers, I would have to strip everything down to essentials. I focused on “integrity”—what would we risk to be true to what we believe? (one class had just watched “The Crucible”, which helped)—and then, how do we know what is true? I went on to talk about how George Fox despaired of finding anyone to answer his questions, and his discovery of the Inward Teacher--the space we enter into in the presence of God (“Up through the flaming sword…” “The Life and power that takes away the occasion for war…”)--the universality of that experience--how each of us needs to know Truth for ourselves instead of taking anyone else’s word for it--how we can live in heaven, the presence of God, now, instead of waiting for the afterlife (no Quaker theology of the afterlife)--and Quaker witness.
More or less. I used the silence, and let the words come as they would. And the kids really engaged with it. Those two classes were one of the high points of my fall. On the evening before I flew to Kalamazoo, I used the same general outline to teach a Quakerism course to a group of parents of Thornton students, and got the same kind of engagement. I think I had always felt that Quakerism had to be “explained” especially to those who were not Quakers. But these experiences convinced me that it can be communicated, directly, experientially, from the heart.
So I came to Kalamazoo armed with my Bible, my Britain Yearly Meeting Faith and Practice (for the quotations), a half page outline, and a confidence that I could communicate something very precious to me by simply settling into it and speaking as led.
I also brought with me a George Fox quotation I found on the Internet this fall, which has been profoundly important to me. I include it here, because it was really my text for the weekend. I read it in full during the Friday evening session, passed out copies to everyone during the Saturday afternoon session, and read much of it again during the session on Sunday.
Concerning Silent Meetings…
From The Works of George Fox, v. 14 (Philadelphia: Marcus T. Gould; New York: Isaac T. Hopper, 1831), p. 174
Concerning silent meetings; the intent of all speaking is to bring into the life, and to walk in, and to possess the same, and to live in and enjoy it, and to feel God's presence, and that is in the silence, (not the wandering whirling tempestuous part of man or woman) for there is the flock lying down at noon-day, and the feeding of the bread of life, and drinking of the springs of life, when they do not speak words; for words declared are to bring people to it, and confessing God's goodness and love, as they are moved by the eternal God and his spirit, and so all the ravenous spirits that are from the witness of God in themselves, cannot be still, cannot be silent, it is a burthen to them; so cannot keep at home in their own houses, but are the hunters before the Lord like Nimrod, the first builder of Babel; but God confounded them, for they went out of the stillness and quietness, as did the Jews that went from the law of God, then they gadded abroad, and changed their ways, and so did not see their salvation; as do the apostate Christians, who inwardly rove from the spirit of God; so are gone from the silence, and stillness, and from waiting upon God to have their strength renewed, and so are dropped into sects, among one another, and so have the words of Christ and the apostles, but inwardly are ravened from the still life, in which is the fellowship, when there are no words spoken.
What happened at the retreat
On Friday evening, there were about 20 of us present. I asked everyone to introduce themselves and to say something about “What they were hungry for,” or “what they wanted from the weekend.” After this we settled into silence, and out of the silence I spoke for about half an hour, about George Fox’s encounter with God, the quality of the space he found in the presence of God, how that space is available to all of us, and the need for total surrender to God. Then there was some sharing. A number of Friends said that they were hungry to hear about each other’s spiritual experiences, but that there seemed to be a reluctance in the meeting to use the word “God,” or talk about spiritual things. One Friend took me aside after the session and expressed the concern that some Friends would be reluctant to open up at all in front of a large group. She suggested that we do some sharing during the weekend in groups of three or four to provide sheltered space for such sharing.
On Saturday morning, seventeen of us reconvened at a Friend’s home out in the country--a beautiful solar home, and a beautiful setting. We introduced ourselves again, this time focusing on the query: “What do you love most about Kalamazoo Friends Meeting?” I spoke out of the silence about (as I remember) the transforming power of our encounters with God, and we then divided into five groups of three or four to focus on the question: “What has been my most vivid encounter with the divine?” I don’t know how well this worked. The group I was in shared very deeply, but some of the others apparently did not have much to say. After a break, we settled into silence and I asked Friends to share anything that had touched them or impressed them during the small group sharing. Something was said by at least one person from four of the five groups, but the sharing was not general or intense. After some more worship, I spoke a little more about transformation, integrity, and witness and then asked for worship sharing around the query: “How have I changed as a result of becoming/being a Quaker?” (there were several lifelong Quakers in the group).
We shared a communal lunch, which gave me some time to confer with Steve
Angell about what was happening and what was needed. When we reconvened,
I spoke for a while out of the silence on George Fox’s words: “The
intent of all speaking is to bring into the Life.” I talked, as
I remember about the difference between a “threshing” meeting
and a silent meeting for worship, the quality of a gathered meeting, and
how we can see each other through God’s eyes in that holy space.
We then divided into two groups of eight or nine to do some sharing on
two questions: “What ‘grabs’ you about the early Friends?”
and “What would you like to ask them, if you could?”
These sessions stimulated a lot of thoughtful discussion. We posted the
tear sheets with our observations and questions around the room, and settled
into worship.
Most of the Friends left at about four o’clock, but Steve and I and two or three others stayed for dinner and conversation. It was an opportunity to unwind, and assess what had happened. We agreed to use the questions that had come out of the last session as the basis for the Sunday morning program.
On Sunday morning, about twenty Friends stayed for the ‘second hour’ discussion after meeting for worship. Some of those who had been most deeply involved the day before were not able to stay because of an interfaith vigil for peace which has become an important weekly community event in Kalamazoo. We had posted the tear sheets from the previous afternoon’s discussion on the walls, and I spoke a little about some of the questions people had said they would like to ask early Friends. I talked again about threshing meetings, which involved long sermons, and silent meetings “where the flock is lying down at noonday” content simply to be in the presence of the Lord. I talked about Christian universalism, and how George Fox was not trying to make people Quakers, but challenging everyone to live as a “Child of Light” wherever they were. We had time for a few questions, and some silent worship. It was a peaceful close for a long weekend.
Observations
I have really struggled with the question of whether I am called to a preaching, or at least a “teaching”, ministry. Some of the knowledgeable Friends I have consulted have advised me that a “listening” ministry is far more powerful, and that I should be wary of imposing myself on others by speaking too much. But when I read the Bible, or the works of early Friends, there are words that pierce and burn themselves into my heart, as if they were written in letters of flame. At first they seem meant just for me, but as I hold them in prayer, I often begin to feel that I need to speak them.
I believe we silent Quakers need more words to challenge us to dig deeper, and to name and understand the things we experience. When I speak, I think what I’m doing is offering people words and phrases that they can use to understand their own journey. I present them. I present them with all the passion and intensity I can, to communicate how important they are, and the transforming power they can have if we take them into our hearts.
One Friend at Kalamazoo thanked me for speaking a particular phrase. She said it gave her a place to start in understanding a leading she had been feeling but had not been able to articulate. It wouldn't surprise me if that was the primary purpose of my visit to Kalamazoo. Oddly enough, I don’t remember now which phrase it was that struck her so. It’s not as though I had a particular message to give her personally. I just had a leading to offer the words, because some one, or some people, needed some of them.
Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I am particularly grateful to Steve Angell for his gentle, supportive presence, and his help in answering questions, based both on extensive knowledge and deep insight. It was a blessed weekend.
Peace,
Deborah Haines
