Trusting in the Spirit

Meeting for Worship at Hlekweni Friends Training Centre

Yearly Meeting is the annual decision-making forum for all Quakers in Britain. This year, Friends have been considering three questions in advance as part of their preparation for the Meeting, on the theme of personal and communal discernment. I have been asked to distil the responses to the questions, and to give a short presentation to Yearly Meeting during the first session on Friday evening.

What I have found from preparing this is that there is a great store of wisdom in the wider Quaker community, and also that many Friends have a gift for a lively turn of phrase. These are some of the highlights of the responses so far.

How have you discerned the right way forward in your own life?

The three themes that spoke to me from the responses to this question were 'listening', 'being listened to' and 'being bold'.

Listening was described as 'offering a problem to God and waiting in the Light', whether in Meeting for Worship, in personal prayer or in daily life. The process of patient openness to God's guidance can be prolonged and uncomfortable. It demands a willingness to sit with fear, impatience and discontent, to feel lost and helpless, a readiness to 'set sail beyond sight of land'. A Friend described it as being 'made tender' by the struggle to remain authentic.

The fruit of this patient listening can be a feeling of 'rightness'; what one Friend described as 'being stroked towards a decision', that comes with its own inner reassurance.

Some Friends spoke of the experience of living in a more continual way in the spirit of reliance on God's guidance; of 'learning to dwell in the place where leadings come from'.

Being listened to is also crucial for many us; discussing difficult issues with Friends, perhaps holding Meetings for Clearness or Threshing Meetings, and knowing that we have the support of our Meeting through difficult circumstances. Our personal leadings sometimes need questioning and refinement from a supportive community. One Friend observed that 'discernment is about actively testing leadings, checking them against other sources, especially when you sense a challenging leading.'

Thirdly, when a leading becomes clear, we need to be bold. Friends were eloquent about the need to 'live adventurously':

'We need to be willing to be led into the dark as well as through green pastures and by still waters.'

A Friend described the experience as 'following my passion', another as 'following the course of action that resonates with my heart.' Often this means taking a step forward, however small, into the unknown, and trusting that we will receive 'just sufficient guidance for our present purposes':

'Live up to the light thou hast, and more shall be given to thee.'

A Friend wrote of 'learning to follow the path as it appears before me', and many described the need to overcome our fear and let go of the outcome:

'We just need to trust and test our leadings, and still our minds of the fear and doubt which can block us from seeing our true calling.'

What experiences have you had of Quaker Meetings being guided by the spirit when making decisions?

Many Friends described the Yearly Meeting 2009 decision to celebrate same-sex marriage as a spirit-led process:

'Personal testimonies and threshing meetings deepened and informed the process. Friends came with hearts and minds prepared.'

'Then the spirit took over. Instead of a small and timid reckoning with the issue, Friends were moved to be bold in a startling way.'

Many Friends wrote of the importance of returning to an issue after waiting for guidance in our Meetings for Worship for Business. Friends described situations of deadlock in their Meetings, which were wonderfully opened through a time of prayerful waiting.

'When there are obviously only two possible outcomes and then after a period of worship a third way emerges which feels right.'

'When things were at an impasse, the clerk called for a period of silence... When the clerk read a draft minute, the first to call for its acceptance was the Friend who had previously been arguing the contrary view.'

Friends wrote of the experience of coming to spirit-led decisions as 'uniting' - with the reminder that 'unity is not the same as unanimity.' This experience of unity can come unlooked for, something that happens beyond consensus and beyond words. 'Suddenly our discord melted' wrote one Friend:

'What happened surprised us all... there was a strong sense in the Meeting that we were being led to go forward in faith.'

Another Friend described the moment after the decision on equal marriage at Yearly Meeting:

'I felt in the silence the whole body of Friends uniting and rejoicing in the Spirit.'

The process of seeking the guidance of the spirit together also requires a mindful self-discipline by everyone in our Meetings:

'It is the spiritual discipline and forgetfulness of self of those present that enables leadings to be discerned.'

One Friend described the 'mix of unity and dissent' in a healthy Meeting, praising 'the discipline of Friends who disagree but are willing to uphold the decision.'

Everyone in a Meeting for Worship needs to give up our own agenda and 'humbly seek guidance'. Inevitably, we sometimes fall short of this, and the consequences can be very painful and destructive of our communities. 'There is great responsibility laid on all of us to make this work,' wrote one Friend:

'I have been in a small number of meetings where the spirit and our business method were ignored. They were horrible.'

What do you value about the way in which Friends work together?

Friends described their love of the Quaker way of plain speaking, in the spirit of love and respect:

'Quakers do not talk over each other, but listen.'

They spoke of the 'genuine search for honesty and truth', and the 'spirit of equality, using everyone's different gifts.'

Some Friends also appreciated the 'toleration of oddities' - the willingness to 'see beyond the irritations of difficult personalities, observing that 'being difficult and cantankerous is almost part of what we are as Quakers.'

Seeking a unity in which there are 'no winners or losers' is also precious to many of us:

'We value the respect shown to all present, the way in which we are encouraged to come without our minds made up and without lobbying.'

'Our way of bringing disagreement or uncertainty into the presence of God enables us to listen with respect to attitudes or opinions which differ from our own, remembering that those who hold them are also children of God.'

One Friend was able confidently to assert that 'Meetings do not indulge in politicking'. Or as another Friend describes it:

'No interrupting, and no biff-baff.'

It seems clear from reading these responses that trust in our process of discernment is something that unites us as Quakers; something we recognise as precious, but also fragile. It will always be vulnerable to our natural human tendency to want to 'win', to be in control of the outcome, and to place our trust in rules and procedures rather than in the risky process of discernment of God's guidance.

The only way to keep our tradition of discernment healthy is to practice it faithfully, to learn from and encourage each other in the demanding discipline of seeking the guidance of the Spirit together.

Quaker decision-making is not the absence of conflict or an easy consensus. It is an active process of self-discipline that enables us to listen and respond to God's guidance for us as individuals and communities. It asks us to trust that there really is guidance available to us, the willingness to continue seeking it, and the courage to follow where it leads, even when the destination is unknown.

There is still time to respond to the questions in advance of Yearly Meeting (until 7th May) on the forum here.

What is Quakerism For?

Children at Hlekweni Friends Training Centre

One of the ways that Early Friends differed most from modern Quakers is that they were able to say with great clarity and conviction just what the purpose of the Quaker Way is:

"The main thing in religion is to keep the conscience pure to the Lord, to know the guide, to follow the guide, to receive from him the light whereby I am to walk; and not to take things for truths because others see them to be truths, but to wait till the spirit makes them manifest to me."

(Isaac Penington)

In other words, the Quaker Way is a vehicle, a means to direct us towards the Inward Guide, so that we can be taught and guided by the Light in our own consciences. Early Quakers recognised that there is one Inward Teacher, Guide or Spirit, that speaks to all people in all times and places, no matter what their culture or religion. The purpose of Quaker worship, testimony, culture and organisation is nothing else than this – to help us to attend to that Inward Guide and follow it. It is that simple; simple but not easy.

The difficulty that all of us experience in staying close to the guide is the main reason we need to be part of a community. A Quaker community should practice the communal discernment that helps us to distinguish the voice of the Spirit from our own wishes or obsessions. It also preserves the memory of ways that Friends have been led by the Spirit in other times and situations, which can help to sensitise us to how the same Spirit is speaking to us now.

Quaker texts such as Advices & Queries are a practical guide to areas of our lives we may need to pay attention to in order to 'get our lives in order', so that we can become more sensitive to the guidance of the Spirit. Instead of commandments (eg 'Do not lie'), they contain searching queries, such as 'Are you honest and truthful in all you say and do?' (Advices & Queries 37). There are no rules or commandments because the aim is not to tell us what to do - 'to take things for truths because others see them to be truths', but to help us to pay attention to the ways that the Spirit may be nudging us to get free of the entanglements of our compulsions or self-deception, so that we can be become more attentive listeners and followers.

This is also the function of Quaker testimonies. As records of the faithful discernment and action of Friends throughout history, they serve to remind us of the directions in which the Spirit has led Friends in the past, so that we can become more attentive to the 'promptings of love and truth' in our own hearts.

The early Quaker testimonies included a fairly diverse range of specific behaviour including 'plain speech', refusing to fight or swear oaths, and abstaining from gambling and 'frivolous amusements'. These actions arose from specific challenges facing Quaker communities, and their discernment of the ways that the Inward Light was calling them to respond. The testimonies have changed over time, reflecting changes in society and in Friends' discernment, so that some testimonies have been abandoned or modified (such as plain speech and rejection of music and the arts), while others have emerged or gained in importance, such as testimonies against slave-holding, conscription and war, and the recent recognition of same-sex marriage.

In recent decades these testimonies have increasingly been translated into a set of abstract principles, usually summarised as 'Simplicity, Truth, Equality and Peace'. This has had the effect of turning concrete commitments to action into a set of abstract 'Quaker principles', removed from real-life contexts, that we try (and usually fail) to 'live up to'. The attempt to live perfectly ethical lifestyles by 'applying' Quaker values and principles to our decisions mistakes the signposts for the destination. It frequently leads to a stifling sense of guilt or, worse, self-righteousness as we compare ourselves with others, instead of focussing on the guidance of the Spirit that is particularly for us, at this moment.

Each one of us has a unique calling, we have been given a life that contains unique gifts and a unique opportunity to bring more of God's love, justice and beauty into the world. Our task is to find that calling and to follow it. We won't find our calling by choosing a set of abstract principles of moral perfection and trying to live up to them. The only way is by paying attention to the inward guide, and allowing it to lead us into the life that is waiting for us, on a path that nourishes our souls.

Love and Affliction

Mural at Cyrene Mission in Zimbabwe

Last month's post on prophetic ministry explored the theme of passion. There is another sense of the word 'passion' in the Christian tradition, which refers to intense humiliation and suffering. This is what the 20th-Century mystic Simone Weil calls 'malheur' (translated as 'affliction') - an intensity of suffering that empties out our sense of self, destroys all our hopes, shatters our sense of being at home and safe in the world.

In the realm of suffering, affliction is something apart, specific, and irreducible. It is quite a different thing from simple suffering. It takes possession of the soul and marks it through and through with its own particular mark, the mark of slavery... There is not real affliction unless the event which has gripped and uprooted a life attacks it, directly or indirectly, in all its parts, social, psychological, and physical.

(Simone Weil - The Love of God and Affliction)

Affliction is sometimes a consequence of prophetic ministry. Many prophets, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Maria Skobtsova and Mary Fisher, have suffered humiliation, persecution and death for their challenge to power in faithfulness to God's calling.

But affliction can also arrive in anyone's life through the blind accidents of our life history; from mental or physical illness, violence, broken or abusive relationships. Prolonged suffering of this intensity can destroy much of a person's sense of identity, leaving a profound mark upon the rest of their lives. Its destructive power can also shatter our defences against the world, creating a rawness of perception that is central to the prophetic vocation. People who have been through the torment of affliction no longer see the world in the same way. They can become acutely sensitised to the suffering of others, and utterly disenchanted and disillusioned with the false promises, enticements and distractions of the surrounding culture. They have lost a protective layer of skin, and stand exposed to the raw currents of inhumanity, oppression and selfishness that swirl around them. Out of the dark night of this affliction, some receive the gift and summons to minister to their community, turning their new perception into insight that can bring healing to others.

Simon Western is a British Quaker whose gift of prophetic ministry arises from the deep insight of affliction. He has written about the sudden death of his son Fynn in January 2010, in an article for The Friend (1^st July 2011), in words that show the power of affliction to reveal the raw pain and wonder of reality, 'to live with suffering yet still loving, in agony yet see beauty.'

You have no maps for this journey. People react in different ways: some are amazing, generous and kind; others shy away, some disappear, and others act inhumanly... You represent everyone’s greatest fear, to lose his or her child, violently and suddenly. You become an untouchable. It is a great burden to carry.

When faced with a tragedy, a crisis, pay attention; the facades and pretences have disappeared, you are faced with raw humanity and God is offering you the opportunity to reach out and touch the divine.

Sadness and beauty are close soul-mates, and here lies the everlasting truth. Forget the contemporary, desperate search for happiness, forget consumerism and looking younger, forget fundamentalism and certainty, they all offer answers but to the wrong question. Sadness is not to be overcome, but to be embraced. My experience is that I have to live in the gap between despair and hope; the space that exists between the desperate cry of Jesus on the cross ‘My God, My God why has thou forsaken me’ and his letting go ‘Father, into your hands I give my spirit’. If we can live fully in the redemptive space between the crucifixion and the resurrection, there we will find God; there we will find the truth, there we plant the seeds of the resurrection within.

Resurrection is not out there, it is in here, our hearts. The redemptive task is to hold onto despair without fleeing it or being destroyed by it, to embrace it yet not indulge it. The challenge is to move out of the victim position, not to allow others to keep you there. Not to be condemned to be a victim for life. Not to act on the suicidal thoughts. Not to become bitter with anger or hate...

Redemption and salvation are found on the highwire, balancing precariously between despair and transformation. It is there that you will be resurrected from being a victim. To sow our own seeds of resurrection is to live with suffering yet still loving, in agony yet see beauty. You will find eternal life in the tiny moments of love and beauty that are fleeting and yet forever. For me it is clear, very clear. We have to plant our own seeds of the resurrection, and live in the redemptive space between despair and hope, and not to search for it elsewhere.

Christianity has often been accused of a morbid obsession with suffering. There is certainly a life-denying current within Christian history, especially where it has been co-opted by ruling elites into a tool for political and psychic repression. But modern secular culture's incapacity to contemplate affliction is also a form of life-denial. The culture of secular consumerism has no spaces, no words, no stories or images powerful enough to communicate the experience and insights of affliction. The full experience of life, which includes our shared vulnerability to helpless suffering, has no place in a society that values only youth, health, success, celebrity, wealth and power.

The modern prophet's gift is to see with the eyes of affliction, and to communicate to others the hope of 'the seeds of resurrection within'.

It is in affliction itself that the splendor of God's mercy shines, from its very depths, in the heart of its inconsolable bitterness. If in persevering in our love, we fall to the point where the soul cannot keep back the cry," My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" if we remain at this point without ceasing to love, we end by touching something that is not affliction, something not of the senses, common to joy and sorrow: the very love of God.

(Simone Weil - Letter to a Priest)

Simon Western is a writer in the field of leadership and coaching, for details see: www.simonwestern.com 

He has also written an essay for 2009 The Friends Quarterly competition on the future of the Religious Society of Friends in Britain, available here.

Holy Fire

One of the defining marks of the prophet is passion. Early Quaker prophets such as George Fox, James Nayler, Elizabeth Hooton and Mary Fisher were aflame with their experience of God's transforming power, and passionate to communicate it to others.

I think it's fair to say that Quaker culture in Britain today is uncomfortable with this aspect of religious experience. Even a moderate degree of passion is frequently regarded as 'unquakerly' in its too-emphatic conviction. This is perhaps the aspect of the prophetic vocation that has contributed most to the general undervaluing of prophetic ministry amongst modern Quakers.

Of course we are understandably wary of people who are passionately convinced of the exclusive truth of their own beliefs, and intent on pressuring us to agree with them. But this is very different to the passion of the genuine prophet, which grows from their own transforming encounter with a loving and merciful spiritual reality. The prophet's calling is not to trumpet their own message, but to point others towards the source of life and truth within themselves.

This theme of passionate spiritual perception is reflected in the writings of a young Friend whom I see as one of the new Quaker prophets emerging in Britain Yearly Meeting. Mark Russ is 29 and came to Quakers as a teenager. He lives in London where he teaches music to primary school children. Mark writes a blog called Quaker Intentional Community, which includes these striking passages in a reflection on the Quaker commitment to celebrating same-sex marriage:

Fire, in the Orthodox church, is always representative of God’s love in all its intense, passionate and purifying power. There is also a saying that the whole of creation is like this all the time, aflame with Divine compassion. We only need learn to see it...

Marriage is a sacrament, an embodying of a spiritual reality. The unseen is made visible, the Divine is incarnated. There are many reasons for marriage, but central to marriage is its revelation of God’s love. The couple, in their fidelity, intimacy and perseverance embody God’s love for God’s people. Rather than the baseless claims of many church leaders that family will be undermined and children damaged, by celebrating same-sex marriage we are giving ourselves more opportunities to see God’s love at work in the world. Same-sex marriage allows the world to burn even brighter with holy fire.

According to theologian Walter Brueggemann, the prophet is a 'child of the tradition' – rooted in a particular tradition of spiritual practice, and accountable to its ideals and disciplines, even when they are misunderstood or marginalised by their own community. The experience of difference or marginalisation can be one of the ways that the prophet's spiritual perception is deepened. It is often the person who is 'on the edge' of their society or community who sees it from a different angle, sometimes with particular clarity. Those who are called to a prophetic ministry are often in a marginal situation, which sharpens their perception of injustices or assumptions that are easily overlooked by the majority.

Mark writes about the experience of having to repeatedly 'come out' as a gay man, as a parallel to the experience of being on the margins of modern Quaker culture because of his Christian faith. His experience challenges us to reflect on whether our treasured liberal Quakerism has become prescriptive and exclusive, and points toward a more uncomfortable possibility, of learning to live with 'contradiction, mystery, mutually exclusive truths and incompatible beliefs':

Occasionally two aspects of my life mirror each other very closely. In conversation with someone I may mention my partner, the next question perhaps being ‘what’s her name?’. I reply ‘his name is Adrian’ after which they may get a little flustered and apologise. In conversation with other Quakers, someone may talk about the Bible as pure myth, Jesus as just a good man, and may even gently ridicule those ‘Evangelicals’ and others who believe in all those ‘supernatural’ bits, perhaps because their intellect is clouded by fear of divine punishment or they are spiritually immature. I reply ‘Well I’m convinced that Jesus actually rose from the dead’. There may be an awkward pause and an incredulous look. Both these repeated instances of ‘coming out’ are necessary we live in a world of assumptions. As a gay person I live in a ‘hetero-normative’ society, where opposite sex pairings are assumed to be the normal (as opposed to abnormal) state of affairs. I’d like to suggest that as a British Quaker, I live in a Society of Friends that is theologically normative, where assumptions are made about my beliefs...

I have come to hold specific beliefs about Jesus and God. Many Quakers I meet think I’m quite strange to believe in these things. ‘Am I still a Quaker?’ is a question I keep coming back to, and on different days you might get different answers. I would also suggest that British Quakerism itself is in the midst of an identity crisis. What does it mean to be a Quaker? What are we doing when we come together to worship? Why be a Quaker and not something else? At the moment we are unable to provide an answer to these questions.

Perhaps the best we can do is to be honest about our differences, the philosophical problems they pose and the conflict they create, without trying to smooth things over. Being truly inclusive means living with tension, contradiction, mystery, mutually exclusive truths and incompatible beliefs.

One of the gifts of the prophet for the community is the particularity of their experience of spiritual reality. The prophet has glimpsed something of the mystery of God, and is called to try to translate that experience into words or actions that can point others towards that mystery in their own lives. The prophet doesn't make balanced judgements or strive for philosophical generality, their view is personal and partial, and may even be one-sided or extreme. As Brueggemann puts it:

'No prophet ever sees things under the aspect of eternity. It is always partisan theology, always for the concrete community, satisfied to see only a piece of it all and to speak out of that at the risk of contradicting the rest of it.'

The Prophetic Imagination

But it is this very partiality that makes it possible for the prophet to express their experience concretely and vividly. Rather than philosophical abstractions, the prophet speaks in poetic images and concrete symbols, striving to 're-activate out of our historical past symbols that always have been vehicles for redemptive honesty' (ibid).

So where contemporary liberal Quakerism has great difficulty in expressing what the core of the Quaker Way might be, the particularity of Mark's experience enables him to articulate a clear statement of his Quaker faith:

Quakerism only makes sense to me if it is Christ-centred, meaning both the life and teachings of Jesus and the searching, convicting, transformative power of what early Friends named ‘the inner Christ’, a spiritual renewal that is mysteriously linked to the person of Jesus.

This will not be the way that spiritual reality will be experienced and described by everyone, as Mark acknowledges, but it expresses a reality that he knows by his own inward experience. As such, it creates a challenge to us, including to those of us who would not use the same words to describe our experience, to turn towards the source of life where words come from:

Why do I go to Quaker Meeting? I go to be transformed by God. Whether this language chimes with other Quakers or not, I hope no one expects to leave Meeting for Worship the same as when they arrive.

Mark's writings are on his blog at Quaker Intentional Community, and he will also be teaching on a Friendly Introduction to the Bible course at Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre in June 2013, details here.

In my next post I will be introducing another 'new Quaker prophet'. Your comments and suggestions of other Friends with a prophetic ministry would be very welcome.

New Quaker Prophets

'Where there is no prophecy the people perish.'

(Proverbs 29:18)

Prophets are essential. The prophetic calling is to express vividly God's promise and challenge for their time. 

As modern Quakers, we are still drawing on the deep spiritual vision of prophets such as George Fox, Lucretia Mott and John Woolman, as well as influential prophets from other traditions such as Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, Mahatma Gandhi, Dorothy Day and many others.

According to the theologian Walter Brueggemann, the prophet's message for the community of faith is a vision of hope, the invitation and challenge to participate in God's purposes for humanity. The prophet is also the instrument of the Spirit for calling the powerful to account, reminding them of their duties to the poor and vulnerable, and exposing violence and oppression.

Prophets are not necessarily great leaders and organisers. They are not always eloquent or charismatic, and they may be reluctant to speak the message that is given to them, like the Biblical prophet Jeremiah:

'I said to myself I will think of God no more, no longer will I speak in God's name. But it was as if there was a fire raging deep within me. I struggled to contain it, but could not.'

(Jeremiah 20:9)

Prophets can also be hard to live with. Their message is often partial or extreme, but a genuine prophet is not a 'ranter'. They are deeply rooted in their religious tradition, even when they criticize or seek to reform it, and they are faithful to the tradition's disciplines, holding themselves accountable to its highest standards. Above all, they speak with the authority of a personal encounter with the Spirit, and with the integrity of their continual struggle to embody its message in their own lives.

As British Quakers we have been nourished by the prophetic ministry and witness of many Friends, not just in the 17^th Century but throughout our history. We have our contemporary prophets too, Friends such as Rex Ambler, Pam Lunn, Jonathan Dale, John Punshon and others. But it seems a worrying sign to me that we seem content to rely on the same small group of speakers at virtually every national Quaker event.

Marion McNaughton has written a profound reflection on the vocation of Quakers to become a 'prophetic community', but every human community has a tendency to fall asleep. The prophet's often painful and thankless task is to wake us up, help us to get moving, often by pointing to the things that we would rather not be aware of. Each generation needs new prophetic voices, to speak to its condition, both to criticize and to energize their community and the wider society with a 'prophetic imagination' that opens up new possibilities.

In Britain Yearly Meeting we have a culture which seems to frown on Friends who speak with too much conviction. Perhaps it is a reflection of what the Quaker scholar Ben Pink Dandelion identifies as contemporary Quakers' defining principle, which he calls 'the absolute perhaps'- that 'we are absolutely certain of being at least a little uncertain in our believing'.

If we are genuinely called to be a prophetic community perhaps we need to ask ourselves how we can become more receptive to the prophetic voices in our Meetings. How we can nurture and support Friends who are being led to minister the message of the Spirit for our times - especially younger Friends, or those who are on the margins of our existing national organisations and structures?

At the recent Whoosh conference some participants raised the question, 'where are our prophetic voices today?' This led me to begin trying to discover whether there are any new Quaker prophets emerging in our Meetings. With excitement and surprise, I soon came across several British Friends whose writings and lives seem to me to embody an authentic prophetic ministry, but who are rarely heard from at national events. I will be featuring some of these 'new Quaker prophets' on this blog over the coming months, and would also very much welcome other suggestions from the wider Quaker community. I hope that by beginning to recognise some of the new prophetic voices in our movement, we might find ways to support them in contributing to the current stirrings of renewal among British Quakers.

Ploughing up the Fallow Ground

Ploughing at Hlekweni in Zimbabwe

I've been reading a Pendle Hill pamphlet called 'Plow up the Fallow Ground – a meditation in the company of early Friends', by American Friend Lu Harper. It is a series of reflections on farming imagery in the teachings of early Quakers, taking its title from this passage from the Journal of George Fox:

'Bring all into the worship of God. Plough up the fallow ground. Thresh and get out the corn; that the seed, the wheat, may be gathered into the barn... None are ploughed up but he who comes to the principle of God in him, that he hath transgressed. Then he doth service to God; then is the planting, watering, and increase from God.'

One of Lu's questions for reflection is, 'What can I say of how Spirit has worked within me and my meeting? Is the fallow ground plowed up?'

I have been busy with coursework for a Masters in Organic Farming over the last couple of months, so the details of ploughing, planting, and harvesting have been very much occupying my mind. Thinking about Lu's question, it occurred to me that British Quakers as a whole seem to be going through this process of 'ploughing up the fallow ground' right now.

Fallow ground is land that has been left uncultivated for a year or more. Letting land lie fallow is a traditional farming practice - allowing the soil to regain fertility between years of cropping and harvesting that would otherwise leave it depleted of nutrients. The point of Fox's metaphor, though, is that fallow ground has been left uncultivated so long that it has become unproductive. As every gardener knows, neglected land quickly becomes colonized by weeds. In a process known as 'ecological succession', pioneer species such as grass and other invasive weeds quickly establish themselves, and if allowed to flower and set seed, will fill the soil with persistent weed seeds that can remain viable in the soil for decades.

It is my impression that Britain Yearly Meeting has been left fallow for far too long, drifting in the organizational equivalent of ecological succession, by which a vital and living movement becomes increasingly inward-looking, focussing on its own institutional structures and routines, and the needs of its own members. British Quakerism has allowed itself to be colonized by invasive weeds from the surrounding culture - a shallow secular liberalism, the smothering growth of bureaucracy, and the creeping couch grass of complacency.

Cultivation interrupts ecological succession by ploughing up the fallow ground. Among British Friends, Quaker Quest, Experiment with Light, The Kindlers, and the recent 'Whoosh' conference are some of the renewal initiatives that are starting to break up the settled Quaker culture of 'hidden-ness'. Quakers all over the country are starting to speak openly and confidently about their faith and to seek out deeper and more disciplined expressions of spiritual practice. Participants at the 'Whoosh' conference this year called for a new emphasis on spiritual leadership, preparation for membership, and a confident teaching ministry. Our Recording Clerk, Paul Parker, is challenging Meetings around the country to respond to the vision of a vibrant, growing movement that can speak to the needs of modern society in turbulent times. The Kindlers project is working with Meetings around the country 'to rekindle the power of Quaker worship by renewing and deepening our spiritual practices'.

Even the rather sterile arguments about the place of 'non-theism' in the Religious Society of Friends may be contributing to this ploughing up, by highlighting the consequences of many years of presenting Quakerism as an anything-goes 'Quaker Space' rather than a distinctive Quaker Way, with its own challenging spiritual teachings and practices.

In farming, ploughing incorporates the stored fertility in the leaves and roots of vegetation into the soil, where it is broken down by a complex community of bacteria, fungi, insects and worms, to make the stored nutrients available for the following productive crops. British Quakers too have a huge amount of fertility stored up in our experiences and traditions. The quietly committed lives of Friends throughout many generations have created a rich store of wisdom, discernment and example to nourish the new growth of our movement. We now need a vigorous, nutrient-demanding crop of new Quaker prophets, teachers, accompaniers and ministers capable of drawing on this fertility before it drains away below the topsoil. If we genuinely want and intend to know the 'planting, watering, and increase from God' we need this generation of British Friends, of all ages, to put their hands to the plough.

The Soul of Quakerism

 


Live Oak Friends Meeting House in Houston, with a Skyspace by James Turrell

I have been reading and reflecting a lot recently about Thomas Moore's approach to the 'care of the soul' in modern life. His concept of 'soul' is not a specifically religious idea – instead it refers to the side of life that is earthy, passionate, imaginative and sensual, and that is touched and expressed in myth, dreams, symbols, the natural world and sensual experience.

Moore argues that many people in modern societies are suffering from a lack of soul in their lives, as our culture and daily routines have become excessively rational and bureaucratic. Modern life and urban environments often have a superficiality, flatness and ugliness that ignore our 'soul needs' for connection both to the physical world and the symbolic 'underworld' of myth and ritual. He sees signs of this soul hunger in many of the familiar symptoms of modern dis-ease – a pervading sense of meaninglessness, depression, anxiety and addiction.

The approach that Moore recommends involves bringing more awareness and respect for the needs of the soul into our everyday lives, through greater attentiveness to the nourishing potential of dreams and stories, small household rituals, beautiful surroundings and objects, music, food and poetry. All of this I find deeply helpful and full of practical wisdom, but there is also no doubt that it contains a challenge to the characteristic style of Quaker spirituality. Quakers have historical roots in a 17^th Century Puritan culture that continues to influence us, through an enduring suspicion of symbols, ritual and art (evident in some of the reasons given for the recent rejection of a James Turrell 'Skyspace' art installation at Friends House). Modern British Quakers have perhaps been even more powerfully shaped by the secular rationalism of modern culture, with its emphasis on intellectual consistency, bureaucratic organization, and abstract moral principles, all of which tend to ignore the more subtle and ambiguous needs of the soul.

Thankfully this is not the whole story though. Quaker spirituality also has its 'soulful' side, and it might be helpful to identify elements of Quaker life that nourish the soul, which we might benefit from developing and practising more deeply.

It is one of the myths of British Friends that 'we don't have rituals'. We have some beautiful ritual practices that can be all the more powerful becauseof their extreme simplicity – a 'silent grace' before mealtimes, the handshake that welcomes everyone to the Meeting room and ends a time of Worship, the beautiful sincerity of a Quaker wedding; these are all rituals that touch the soul's need for practical expressions of gratitude, reverence and belonging.

Perhaps we would do well to develop the ritual expressions of Quaker life further, retaining the essential character of simplicity and authenticity. Some Friends have held special Meetings to celebrate the birth of a child, inviting friends and family members from outside the Quaker Meeting, and including readings, poems or songs that express the community's shared commitment to nurturing this new life. It would be a short step from this to arranging a Meeting specifically to welcome an adult into membership of the Society, rather than the very perfunctory acknowledgement that tends to take place at present. At the last Meeting I attended which accepted a new member, the first words of greeting they received were 'watch out for the nominations committee'. For many people the decision to formally join the Religious Society of Friends is a major life event, which deserves honouring with a genuine celebration that includes the Meeting's commitment to supporting the new member in their spiritual and practical life.

We might also think about small rituals of our home lives – meals and bedtimes, weekends and birthdays. Are there ways that we could nourish our daily life and relationships by giving more attention to these important times, while honouring the Quaker insight that 'all of life is sacramental'? My family got used to eating dinner by candlelight in Zimbabwe during the frequent power cuts, and found that it added a sense of occasion to mealtimes, so we have continued to light a candle at the table when we eat dinner together. Different families have other ways of making shared meals special, but small rituals like this help to build up a unique family culture, which can meet our soul needs for belonging and rootedness.

The soul of Quaker spirituality is also expressed in the simple beauty of many old Meeting Houses, and even in the homes of some Friends. One of the first times I visited a Quaker home I was struck by the practical simplicity of its furnishings – well-made wooden furniture, a hand-made quilt, and even a functioning (and well-used) spinning-wheel. Nothing in the house was disposable, shoddy or ostentatious. It felt like an echo of the quietist Quaker culture of the 18^th Century - the kind of house where John Woolman would have felt at home. This is a distinctive kind of beauty that Thomas Moore describes as 'the spiritual richness of simplicity':

Simplicity doesn't mean meagreness but rather a certain kind of richness, the fullness that appears when we stop stuffing the world with things... Let us feel the textures and see the colours, and then we won't need so many things in the place to make it nurturing.'

(The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life)

Of course there is no value in trying to copy someone else's style of life, or aiming for a uniform aesthetic in our homes or lives. The soul thrives on the uniqueness of our tastes, drawing on our own personal histories, including elements from different cultures and life-experiences. Every person and every family will have their own images and objects that feed their imagination and senses. But we might consider how we are nourished by our home environments and the things we see and touch every day, and consider introducing something of the richness of simplicity into our daily lives through simple elements such as home-grown food, freshly-baked bread, shared music-making, or a thoughtfully-tended garden.

We might also give more attention to our Meeting Houses as places that nourish the soul as well as the mind. Quaker tradition includes a strong current of opposition to the images and music of mainstream churches. Friends have always emphasised that it is not the building that is sacred, but the presence of the Spirit in the gathered Meeting, and our Meeting Houses have traditionally been bare of ornamentation and symbols. Some old Meeting Houses do embody a powerful sense of place, through a beautiful simplicity that draws attention to the lustre of old wooden benches, or the quality of light through plain windows. But some modern Meeting Houses seem to have replaced this beauty of simplicity with an anonymous functionalism, sometimes hardly distinguishable from a conference centre or airport lounge.

Our Meeting House in central Sheffield has often seemed to me a rather bland modern space, so it has been a pleasure recently to see more soulful elements gradually creeping into it. Artworks by local Friends are on display in some of the rooms and common areas, inviting imagination and beauty into the space. Our small terrace garden has also become a focus of soulful beauty, especially as it has been transformed into an 'edible roof garden' as one response to the national Quaker commitment to become a 'sustainable, low-carbon community'. At the purely pragmatic level a small roof garden with potted trees and climbing plants is an insignificant contribution to our Meeting's carbon reduction. But at the level of soul and symbol, it is a powerful way of creating a space within the Meeting House for a vision of interdependence with nature. As well as the rational projects of carbon-footprinting and changes to travel and consumption, we need the kinds of images, sounds, smells and spaces that nourish our souls with a glimpse of life-sustaining human community.

In a future post I will be exploring another area of modern Quaker culture that can often seem hostile to the needs and movements of the soul - the controversial subject of Quaker 'values' and 'principles'.