Introduction
"Renewal of the Society waits for the choice of each Friend: Am I willing to risk the disturbing, transfiguring presence of the Spirit in my life? To obey it? To expect ‘the Cross’ and dark days as I discover and nurture who I am before God? When we choose to live the spiritual life the Quaker Way, these are the experiences we are committing ourselves to, whatever words we put upon them. If significant numbers of us are not interested in, or willing to live by these experiences, the hoped-for renewal of our meetings cannot occur. But if our collective spiritual power gathers strength it will infect other Friends and newcomers. Ministry will become more grounded in the Spirit and individuals will be inspired by the Spirit to serve our meetings as nurturers, prophets and conservers."
Ursula Jane O’Shea, "Living the Way: Quaker spirituality and community"
There are good reasons why long-lived religious movements need to be continually renewed. As formal structures and bureaucracies develop, members’ energy is increasingly drawn into perpetuating the organisation, rather than serving the original spiritual mission of the community. The organisation’s culture and structures soon become closely geared to the interests of its most influential members. These structures eventually push increasing numbers of spiritually seeking members to the edges of the community, or even out of it altogether.
This is very much the situation I see in large parts of Britain Yearly Meeting. As a Friend in one struggling Meeting asked after a talk on ‘vibrant Meetings’: ‘We already have too much to do. Are we supposed to be vibrant now as well?’
We currently have an organisational culture and structures that suit a dwindling group of members in many scattered, mostly very tiny Meetings. A wider group of attenders come to Meeting semi-regularly to recharge their batteries on a Sunday morning, but are deterred from getting more involved by the onerous demands of administration or the absence of real spiritual vitality. Most of the newcomers who occasionally turn up to try a Quaker Meeting on Sunday never come back, or attend for only a short time before drifting off to look for something more spiritually nourishing. Yet we rarely ask ourselves what it is that might be missing from our worship and our community.
In large part, British Quakers are asleep; but we are stirring. A growing number of voices are asking whether the way we have come to ‘do Quakerism’ over the last few decades really serves the needs of our communities or the leadings of the Spirit. Many Meetings have confronted their settled opposition to ‘proselytising’, and started to actively encourage new attenders to our Meetings. Some Friends are even starting to question the hardened liberal dogmas that have outlawed the teaching of Quaker spirituality and the ministry of leadership in our communities.
These fitful stirrings have not yet reached a critical threshold of awakening. We may be at a crucial point in our story as British Quakers. Will we toss and turn, only to roll over and go back to sleep? Or will we come awake at last, while we still have enough energy and hope to renew our Society and ourselves, to realise the unique possibilities of a renewed Quaker way for our times?
We have been here before. At the very end of the nineteenth century the ‘Quaker Renaissance’ movement introduced the era of liberal Quakerism. This renewed form of the Quaker way unleashed a new wave of spiritual vigour and social engagement. It contributed to the heroic achievements of Friends during the twentieth century, from conscientious objection, to the Kindertransport, humanitarian relief and anti-war movements.
We need a new kind of ‘Quaker Renaissance’ today that takes seriously the potential of the Quaker way to connect us with the source of life and power that can renew our lives, build up loving communities and heal the wounds of the world.
The short essays in this collection are attempts to point towards some areas where I see potential for new life and creativity in Quaker spirituality and practice. Essential to realising these possibilities is a willingness to share our questions, insights and frustrations with each other, without evading the risks of mutual challenge and vulnerability. This is not easy; it can create discomfort and conflict, but we cannot be a religious community without it.
These essays necessarily include judgements about our current Quaker culture that will not be shared by other Friends whose experience and temperament are very different to mine. This is just as it should be. I don’t want to argue that my suggestions should be accepted by everyone. If they stimulate some reflection and conversation about the possibilities of a more life-giving Quaker way for our time, they will have served their purpose.
The Quaker way
Over recent years many Friends have diagnosed a crisis in Britain Yearly Meeting. They have warned us of a continuing decline in membership, and of intractable conflicts over religious belief and language. These concerns are important, but I believe that both are actually symptoms of a more fundamental crisis of spiritual vitality.
Throughout our history, Quakers have faced the challenge of continually renewing our spiritual life and shared practice. Every generation has had to rediscover the Quaker way anew. We all need to confront our own spiritual inertia and find the depth of reality in our own experience. Since most Quakers now join as older adults, we also have to learn the Quaker way as a ‘second language’. This requires us to avoid projecting onto the Quaker community the assumptions, hurts or disappointments we have received from other traditions.
These challenges have become especially acute in recent years. For several decades we have neglected to explicitly teach core Quaker practices to newcomers, with the result that many Meetings have little experience of gathered worship, Spirit-led discernment or lives rooted in responsiveness to divine leadings. These are the substance of the Quaker path. Without them we are too often left with the forms of ‘Quakerliness’ without the experiential substance, and inevitably we fall into disputes over words.
In the absence of any shared understanding of core Quaker practices such as Meetings for Worship and for Business, we increasingly encounter chronic disagreements about how to live the Quaker way together. A shared understanding does not mean identical beliefs, but it does rely on a common language for communicating our experiences, explicit teaching and learning, and a continual conversation about the meaning and purpose of our core practices. In the absence of these a Quaker Meeting can become simply a neutral space for the sharing of ideas from other religious traditions or secular ideologies.
Thankfully, there are signs of awakening. Some Meetings are experimenting with new or rediscovered forms of outreach, worship and teaching. They are encouraging the sharing of spiritual experience, instead of evading the risks of encounter by focusing solely on the safer topics of shared political and ethical values.
What this highlights to me is that the rediscovery of our Quaker tradition as a living way of spiritual practice is in our own hands. If we want a deeper experience of community, and a renewed spiritual depth of worship and testimony, we need to take courage. We have to create opportunities for conversations about the meaning of our Quaker practices with each other and throughout the Religious Society of Friends. We can encourage each other to take the Quaker way seriously as a path of spiritual practice to learn about, to discuss with each other, and above all to work at, allowing it to change us and the world around us.
Centre and boundary
Some Friends have tried to define the boundaries of Quaker identity by identifying certain core Quaker beliefs, such as ‘that of God in everyone’. Others point to a list of testimonies, which are often interpreted as ‘shared values’ rather than Spirit-led actions. For some, there is no specific teaching or content to the Quaker way at all. For these Friends, the Quaker Meeting is simply an accepting space for people to explore their own values and pursue their own private spiritual journeys.
I believe that a more fruitful way to look at what it means to be a Quaker is to focus not on the ‘boundary’ but on the ‘centre’ of the Quaker way. For me, the centre of our tradition is not beliefs or values, but a small number of distinctive Quaker practices for worship, discernment and testimony. Foremost among these are the Meeting for Worship and the Meeting for Worship for Business.
Quaker practices have never been static. Meetings for Worship have changed a great deal since the seventeenth century, when they could last for three hours and contain lengthy Biblical sermons. New practices also emerge over time – including worship sharing, Meetings for Clearness and Experiment with Light – and they are always subject to adaptation and reinterpretation. But it is through our participation in these practices, including in discussions about their meaning, that we take part in the Quaker way.
All of our Quaker practices are grounded in spiritual discernment. They require us to develop the capacity for attentive listening to divine leadings and to restrain our natural impulses towards self-assertion and defensiveness. Discernment is a form of perception – a practice of insight into a depth of reality that we can trust to guide us, as individuals and as communities.
All of our practices rely on a shared trust that there is a reliable source of guidance to be found, which is not simply a projection of our own wishes and values. This inner attitude of trust does not assume any particular theology; it is compatible with many kinds of religious belief and even with a thorough-going agnosticism. All that is essential is our practical willingness to listen for and to follow the leadings of the ‘Inward Guide’.
The ‘centre’ of the Quaker way is to participate fully in the core Quaker practices that create the possibility of shared experiences and common understandings. This includes a commitment to continuing growth in appreciating the depths of possibility of these practices, in dialogue with other Friends throughout our Yearly Meeting and beyond.
If we focused on a commitment to Quaker practices as the centre of the Quaker way, perhaps we wouldn’t need to worry so much about the boundaries. There is nothing exclusive about Quaker practices. Anyone can begin to explore them in an experimental spirit, starting right where we are. There are no preconditions, beyond the simple willingness to encounter a source of guidance beyond our conscious intentions, values and attitudes – allowing it to lead us into a wider, more generous and Spirit-filled life.
A shared language
One of the ways that contemporary Quaker practice has become impoverished is by the loss of a shared spiritual language. We have come to assume that the only way we can communicate at all is by trying to ‘translate’ each other’s words into some other terms that are meaningful for us. This may work when our experiences are similar enough that we are ‘just using different words to talk about the same thing’. But it doesn’t help us to hear and to take seriously Friends whose experience is significantly different to our own. By translating their words into our own preferred language, we sidestep the reality of difference, instead of allowing ourselves to be challenged and enriched by it.
The absence of a shared language can also be an obstacle when we want to produce collective statements, such as minutes or outreach materials. If we try to include only words that no one will object to, we are left with an increasingly restricted vocabulary that is ever more dominated by the bureaucratic language of the wider culture.
There is an alternative. We could choose to cultivate a contemporary Quaker language that is rich enough to express the full diversity of our varied experiences. There is an extraordinarily creative spiritual vocabulary to draw upon in the writings of Quakers throughout our history. A contemporary language would also be continually open to whatever images, words and symbols arise from our current experience of Quaker practices. A shared Quaker language would include multiple images and metaphors that reflect the multifaceted nature of spiritual reality.
Quaker practices open us to the possibility of encounter with a reality that may be experienced as personal and impersonal, masculine, feminine, immanent, transcendent or otherwise. So, words and symbols such as ‘God’, ‘the Guide’ or ‘Inward Christ’ might be recognised as valid ways of expressing the personal nature of some of our experiences – such as a sense of loving presence and guidance. At the same time, and without contradiction, such a language would also include impersonal images such as ‘Light’, ‘Energy’ or ‘Oneness’, which can point to experiences of illumination, empowerment and interrelationship.
A shared language would involve accepting all of these images as valid, but none of them as sufficient in themselves. It would be rich enough to enable everyone to express the depth and variety of our personal experiences. At the same time its diversity would point towards the inexpressible nature of spiritual reality, which is always beyond our capacity to fully name, identify or control. By acknowledging the validity of numerous ways of encountering spiritual reality, it would also create space for change and growth in our religious understanding, so we might be less inclined to rely on narrow theologically-defined identities. Instead of defending our own concepts and images, and trying to exclude those used by other Friends, we might recognise a wide range of experiences, images and symbols as equally important for expressing the full range of Quaker experience.
Many of us also draw insight and inspiration from other religious traditions, and would continue to make use of other spiritual languages as well. But a sufficiently rich Quaker language would not depend on importing concepts from other traditions. It would be broad and subtle enough to communicate the breadth and depth of Quaker experience with each other and with the wider world – including the varied insights and commitments that arise from our shared Quaker practices and their practical expression in our lives.
Worship
If the Quaker way has something unique to offer the world, perhaps it is the experience of a Gathered Meeting for Worship. This is what Gerald Hewitson has described as:
…a Meeting where the silence is as soft as velvet, as deep as a still pool; a silence where words emerge, only to deepen and enrich that rich silence, and where Presence is as palpable and soft as the skin of a peach; where the membrane separating this moment in time and eternity is filament-fine.
Journey into life, Swarthmore Lecture 2013
Gathered worship is the living power of the Quaker way, with an amazing capacity to heal, renew and transform our lives and communities. This depth of worship is a rare occurrence in some of our Meetings because the disciplines of listening and speaking that enable and sustain it are not being practised.
Worship is a movement of the whole being towards a spiritual reality that is ultimately mysterious. It requires the commitment of our whole selves – mind, heart, body and will – to something greater than our own values, thoughts and preferences.
It is easy to keep ourselves at the centre, making worship into another activity of the conscious mind. The discipline of listening requires us to let go of our need to be in control. It asks us to open ourselves to a wordless encounter with the inward source of life and power – a sense of ‘Presence’ beyond thoughts and concepts. In that place we become receptive to the ‘promptings of love and truth’ that may arise to teach us, and that might require us to offer spoken ministry.
The discipline of speaking means discerning whether our intention to offer spoken ministry is a response to a specific leading of the Spirit. It asks us to relinquish the natural urge to speak from the needs of the ego. We have to learn to speak only when our message arises from the deeper place of responsiveness to spiritual reality. When we minister from this place our simplest words have a special power to draw others into awareness, to encourage, to console or to challenge.
Where the disciplines of listening and speaking are not practised the Meeting for Worship can no longer function. Although the outward form may appear the same, such a Meeting has become something else. In these Meetings, spoken ministry tends toward political discussion or summaries of radio and television programmes. Friends tend to tolerate each other’s messages in a spirit of generous forbearance, rather than embracing them as words with the power to speak to our hearts.
Elders have a particular responsibility for reminding Friends of the disciplines involved in Quaker worship. In practice, elders’ willingness to do this is severely undermined by the insistence of many Friends that worship and ministry are purely subjective and not subject to community standards.
For many years we have tried to avoid conflict within our Meetings by evading mutual accountability for the quality of our worship. We have not expected new Friends and attenders to learn the disciplines of Quaker worship. Instead, we have encouraged each other to reinterpret the practice of worship wherever it conflicts with our own preferences and assumptions.
Weekly Meeting for Worship cannot support the whole weight of our spiritual lives on its own. If our daily life is so hectic and overstretched that we come to Meeting with minds filled with jangling thoughts all clamouring for attention, we will miss the possibility of gathered worship. This is a struggle for many in a society that constantly pushes us into overwork, over-stimulation and over-consumption. If we truly want to open ourselves to the possibilities of worship, we also need to make regular space in our daily lives for stillness and reflection, ‘to set aside times of quiet for openness to the Holy Spirit… to find the inward source of our strength’ (Advices & queries 3).
If a Quaker community is to exist as something beyond a social club for like-minded people, it needs to be rooted in an authentic experience of worship. A gathered Quaker Meeting has the power to heal, transform, embolden, to make us more sensitive and more aware. It is the life-giving sap that is needed for vital, outward-looking communities.
One of the greatest qualities of the Quaker way of worship is its utter simplicity. It needs no special building, no specially-qualified clergy or guru, no holy objects or texts. It is open to everyone on a basis of complete equality, without distinction of gender, sexuality or background. Quaker worship does not require special techniques or great natural ability, but it does demand our self-discipline and self-surrender:
Give over thine own willing, give over thy own running, give over thine own desiring to know or be anything and sink down to the seed which God sows in the heart, and let that grow in thee and be in thee and breathe in thee and act in thee; and thou shalt find by sweet experience that the Lord knows that and loves and owns that, and will lead it to the inheritance of Life, which is its portion.
Isaac Penington, 1661
No comments:
Post a Comment
"When words are strange or disturbing to you, try to sense where they come from and what has nourished the lives of others. Listen patiently and seek the truth which other people's opinions may contain for you. Avoid hurtful criticism and provocative language. Do not allow the strength of your convictions to betray you into making statements or allegations that are unfair or untrue. Think it possible that you may be mistaken."
(From Quaker Advices and Queries 17)