Recently in vision Category

Sometimes it seems as if moderns are looking back at history through the wrong end of the telescope: everything seems soooo far away. The effect is magnified when we're talking about spirituality. The ancients come off as cartoonish figures with a complicated set of worked out philosophies and prohibitions that we have to adopt or reject wholesale. The ideal is to be a living branch on a long-rooted tree. But how do we intelligently converse with the past and negotiate changes?

Let's talk Friends and music. The cartoon Quaker in our historical imagination glares down at us with heavy disapproval when it comes to music. They're squares who just didn't get it.

Getting past the cartoons

Thomas Clarkson, our Anglican guide to Quaker thought circa 1700, brings more nuance to the scruples. "The Quakers do not deny that instrumental music is capable of exciting delight. They are not insensible either of its power or of its charms. They throw no imputation on its innocence, when viewed abstractly by itself." (p. 64)

"Abstractly by itself": when evaluating a social practice, Friends look at its effects in the real world. Does it lead to snares and tempations? Quakers are engaged in a grand experiment in "christian" living, keeping to lifestyles that give us the best chance at moral living. The warnings against certain activities are based on observation borne of experience. The Quaker guidelines are wikis, notes compiled together into a collective memory of which activities promote--and which ones threaten--the leading of a moral life.

Clarkson goes on to detail Quaker's concerns about music. They're all actually quite valid. Here's a sampling:

• People sometimes learn music just so they can show off and make others look talentless.
• Religious music can become a end to itself as people become focused on composition and playing (we've really decontextualized: much of the music played at orchestra halls is Masses; much of the music played at folk festival is church spirituals).
• Music can be a big time waster, both in its learning and its listening.
• Music can take us out into the world and lead to a self-gratification and fashion.

I won't say any of these are absolute reason to ban music, but as a list of negative temptations they still apply. The Catholic church my wife belongs to very consciously has music as a centerpiece. It's very beautiful, but I always appreciate the pastor's reminder that the music is in service to the Mass and that no one had better clap at some performance! Like with Friends, we're seeing a deliberate balancing of benefits vs temptations and a warning against the snares that the choice has left open.

Context context context

In section iv, Clarkson adds time to the equation. Remember, the Quaker movement is already 150 years old. Times have changed:

Music at [the time of early Quakers] was principally in the hands of those, who made a livelihood of the art. Those who followed it as an accomplishment, or a recreation, were few and those followed it with moderation. But since those days, its progress has been immense... Many of the middle classes, in imitation of the higher, have received it... It is learned now, not as a source of occasional recreation, but as a complicated science, where perfection is insisted upon to make it worth of pursuit. p.76.

Again we see Clarkson's Quakers making distinctions between types and motivations of musicianship. The laborer who plays a guitar after a hard day on the field is less worrisome than the obsessed adolescent who spends their teen years locked in the den practicing Stairway to Heaven. And when music is played at large festivals that lead youth "into company" and fashions, it threatens the religious society: "it has been found, that in proportion as young Quakers mix with the world, they generally imbibe its spirit, and weaken themselves as members of their own body."

Music has changed even more radically in the suceeding two centuries. Most of the music in our lives is pre-recorded; it's ubiquitious and often involuntary (you can't go shopping without it). Add in the drone of TV and many of us spend an insane amount of time in its semi-narcotic haze of isolated listenership. Then, what about DIY music and singalongs. Is there a distinction to be made between testoterone power-chord rock and twee singer-songwriter strums? Between arenas and coffeehouse shows? And move past music into the other media of our lives. What about movies, DVS, computers, glossy magazines, talk shows. Should Friends waste their time obsessing over American Idol? Well what about Prairie Home Companion?

Does a social practice lead us out into the world in a way that makes it hard for us to keep a moral center? What if we turned off the mediated consumer universe and engaged in more spiritually rewarding activities--contemplative reading, service work, visiting with others? But what if music, computers, radio, is part of the way we're engaging with the world?

How do decide?

Finally, in Clarkson's days Friends had an elaborate series of courts that would decide about social practices both in the abstract (whether they should be published as warnings) and the particular (whether a particular person had strayed too far and fallen in moral danger). Clarkson was writing for a non-Quaker audience and often translated Quakerese: "courts" was his name for monthly, quarterly and yearly meeting structures. I suspect that those sessions more closely resembled courts than they do the modern institutions that share their name. The court system led to its own abuses and started to break down shortly after Clarkson's book was published and doesn't exist anymore.

We find outselves today pretty much without any structure for sharing our experiences ("Faith and Practice" sort of does this but most copies just gather dust on shelves). Monthly meetings don't feel that oversight of their members is their responsibility; many of us have seen them look the other way even at flagrantly egregious behavior and many Friends would be outraged at the concept that their meeting might tell them what to do--I can hear the howls of protest now!

And yet, and yet: I hear many people longing for this kind of collective inquiry and instruction. A lot of the emergent church talk is about building accountable communities. So we have two broad set of questions: what sort of practices hurt and hinder our spiritual lives in these modern times; and how do we share and perhaps codify guidelines for twenty-first century righteous living?

Always a step behind Wess, I started a QuakerQuaker "Page" over on Facebook. Nothing there yet but it could be a place for readers to comment and for me to toss out ideas for future directions.

I've personally found that the organizing potential of Facebook isn't nearly as interesting as it seems at first blush. Groups are constantly created, joined in a mad rush, then left to decay a slow death of unanswered discussions. FB is a good place to chat with friends and there's a certain thrill of the ephemeral to learn that an acquaintance you haven't talked to in years is in Tuscon this weekend enjoying a spicy Thai chicken. But perhaps a Facebook Group (or "Page," as this technically is) will be a good forum for a somewhat established network.

Over on my design blog I've just posted an article, Banking on reputations, which looks at how the websites for high-profile cultural institutions are often built without regard to natural web publicity--there's no focus on net culture or search engine visibility. The sites do get visited, but only because of the reputation of the institution itself. My guess is that people go to them for very specific functions (looking up a phone number, ordering tickets, etc.). I finish by asking the question, "Are the audiences of high brow institutions so full of hip young audiences that they can steer clear of web-centric marketing?"

I won't belabor the point, but I wonder if something similar is happening within Friends. It's kind of weird that only two people have commented on Johan Maurer's blog post about Baltimore Yearly Meeting's report on Friends United Meeting. Johan's post may well be the only place where online discussion about this particular report is available. I gave a plug for it and it was the most popular link from QuakerQuaker, so I know people are seeing it. The larger issue is dealt with elsewhere (Bill Samuel has a particularly useful resource page) but Johan's piece seems to be getting a big yawn.

It's been superseded as the most popular QuakerQuaker link by a lighthearted call for an International Talk Like a Quaker Day put up by a Livejournal blogger. It's fun but it's about as serious as you might expect. It's getting picked up on a number of blogs, has more links than Johan's piece and at current count has thirteen commenters. I think it's a great way to poke a little fun of ourselves and think about outreach and I'm happy to link to it but I have to think there's a lesson in its popularity vis-a-vis Johan's post.

Here's the inevitable question: do most Quakers just not care about Friends United Meeting or Baltimore Yearly Meeting, about a modern day culture clash that is but a few degrees from boiling over into full-scale institutional schism? For all my bravado I'm as much an institutional Quaker as anyone else. I care about our denominational politics but do others, and do they really?

Yearly meeting sessions and more entertainment-focused Quaker gatherings are lucky if they get three to five percent attendance. The governing body of my yearly meeting is made up of about one percent of its membership; add a percent or two or three and you have how many people actually pay any kind of attention to it or to yearly meeting politics. A few years ago a Quaker publisher commissioned a prominent Friend to write an update to liberal Friends' most widely read introductory book and she mangled the whole thing (down to a totally made-up acronym for FWCC) and no one noticed till after publication--even insiders don't care about most of this!

Are the bulk of most contemporary Friends post-institutional? The percentage of Friends involved in the work of our religious bodies has perhaps always been small, but the divide seems more striking now that the internet is providing competition. The big Quaker institutions skate on being recognized as official bodies but if their participation rate is low, their recognition factor small, and their ability to influence the Quaker culture therefore minimal, then are they really so important? After six years of marriage I can hear my wife's question as a Quaker-turned-Catholic: where does the religious authority of these bodies come from? As someone who sees the world through a sociological/historical perspective, my question is complementary but somewhat different: if so few people care, then is there authority? The only time I see Friends close to tears over any of this is when a schism might mean the loss of control over a beloved school or campground--factor out the sentimental factor and what's left?

I don't think a diminishing influence is a positive trend, but it won't go away if we bury our heads in the sand (or in committees). How are today's generation of Friends going to deal with changing cultural forces that are threatening to undermine our current practices? And how might we use the new opportunities to advance the Quaker message and Christ's agenda?

I'm reading Bill Taber's fascinating history of Ohio Conservative Friends called The Eye of Faith. Like any good history there's a lot of the present in there. There's a strong feeling of deja-vu to the scenes of Friends in conflict and various characters come to life as much for their foibles as their strength of character (there's more than a few bloggers echoed there). I'm now a few years into the second great separation, the Wilburite/Gurneyite split that brewed for years before erupting in 1854.

I'm not one of those Friends who bemoan the various schisms. The diversity of those calling themselves Friends today is so great that it's hard to imagine them ever having stayed part of the same body. Only a strong authoritarian control could have prevented the separations and even then, large masses of the "losing" party would have simply left and regrouped elsewhere: the only real difference is that one party stops using the Quaker name. Here in South Jersey, where the only Gurneyite meeting wasn't recognized by either Philadelphia yearly meeting for almost a hundred years, we've got dozens of Methodist "meeting houses" with graveyards full of old Quaker family names. Fascinating histories could be written of Friends who didn't bother to squabble over meetinghouse deeds and simply decided to congregate under another banner.

One concept I'm chewing on is that of the "remnant." As I understand it, the doctrine comes largely from Revelation 12 and is used by small theologically-conservative Christian sects to explain why their small size isn't a problem; it's kind of like Mom saying it's better to do the right thing than to be popular. When the remnant community is a relatively isolated locale like Barnesville, there's also the image of the Land That Time Forgot, the place where the old time ways has come down to us most fully intact. There's truth to the preserving power of isolation: linguists claim the Ozark hillbilly accent most clearly mirrors Shakespeare's. But Ohio Friends aren't simply Jed Clampett's Quaker cousins.

Like most rural Quaker yearly meetings, Ohio Yearly Meeting Conservative has lost much of its membership over the last hundred years. I don't have statistics but it seems as if a good percentage of the active members of the yearly meeting hail from outside southeastern Ohio and a great many are convinced Friends. This echoes the most significant change in U.S. Quakerism in the past fifty years: the shift from a self-perpetuating community with strong local customs and an almost ethnic sense of self, to a society of convinced believers.

The keen sense of self-sufficiency and isolation that held together tight-knit Quaker communities over the centuries are largely non-sustainable now. In our media-saturated lives even Barnesville teens can get the latest Hollywood gossip and New York fashions in real time. Yes it's possible to ban the TV and live as a media hermit in a commune somewhere, but even that only gets you so far. Once upon a time, not so long ago, a Friend could situate themselves in the wider Quaker universe simply by comparing family trees and school ties but that's becoming less important all the time. For those of us who enter into the Society of Friends as adults--majorities in many yearly meetings now--there's a sense of choice, of donning the clothes. We play at being Quaker until voila!, some mystical alchemical process happens and we identify as Quaker--even if we're not always quite so made-over into Quakerness as we imagine ourselves.

At the Ohio sessions a few Friends really loved Wess Daniel's statement that "A tradition that loses the ability to explain itself becomes an empty form" (see his wrap-up post here). One Ohio Friend said he had heard it postulated that isolated and inward-focused communities like Ohio Conservative were God's method of preserving the old ways against the onslaught of the modernist age (with its mocking disbelief) until they could be reintroduced to the wider world in a more forgiving post-modernist era. Looked at that way, Quakerism isn't a quaint relic in need of the same botox/bleach blond "NOW!" makeover every other spiritual tradition is getting. Think of it instead as a time capsule ready to be opened. An interesting theory. Are we ready to look at this peculiar thing we've dug up and reverse-engineer it back into meaningfulness?

Update:

Kirk W. over at Street Corner Society emailed me that he had recently put the Journal of Ann Branson online. She features heavily in the middle part of Taber's book, which is the story of Conservative Ohio finding its own identity. Kirk suggests, and I agree, that her journal might be considered one of the artifacts of the Ohio time capsule. I hope to find some time to read this in the not-too-distant future.

There’s an interesting discussion in the comments from my last post about Convergent Friends and Ohio Conservatives. and one of the more interesting comes from a commenter named Diane. My reply to her got longer and longer and filled with more and more links till it makes more sense to make it its own post. First, Diane’s question:

I don’t know if I’m “convergent,” (probably not) but I have been involved with the emerging church for several years and with Quakerism for a decade. I also am aware of the house church movement, but my experience of it is that is is very tangentially related to Quakerism.

I really, really hope and pray that Christian revival is coming to liberal Friends, but personally I have not seen that phenomenom. Where do you see it most? Do you see it more as commitment to Christ or as more people being Christ curious, to use Robin’s phrase?

As I wrote recently I think convergence is more of a trend than an identity and I’m not sure whether it makes sense to fuss about who’s convergent or not. As with any question involving liberal Friends, whether there’s “Christian revival” going on depends on what what you mean by the term. I think more liberal Friends have become comfortable labeling themselves as Christ curious; it has become more acceptable to identify as Christian than it was a decade or two ago; a significant number of younger Friends are very receptive to Christian messages, the Bible and traditional Quaker testimonies than they were.

These are individual responses, however. Turning to collective Quaker bodies there are few if any beliefs or practices left that liberal Friends wouldn’t allow under the Quaker banner if they came wrapped in Quakerese from a well-connected Friend; the social testimonies stand in as the unifying agent; it’s still considered an argument stopper to say that any proffered definition would exclude someone.

I’d argue that liberal Quakerism is becoming ever more liberal (and less distinctively Quaker) at the same time that many of those in influence are becoming more Christian. It’s a very proscribed Christianity: coded, tentative and most of all individualistic. It’s okay for a liberal Friend to believe whatever they want to believe as long as they don’t believe too much. Whether the quiet influence of the rising generation of conservative-friendly leadership is enough to hold a Quaker center in the centrifuge that is liberal Quakerism is the $60,000 question. I think the leadership has an inflated sense of its own influence but I’m watching the experiment. I wish it well but I’m skeptical and worry that it’s built on sand.

Some of the Christ-curious liberal Friends are forming small worship groups and some of these are seeking out recognition from Conservative bodies. It’s an achingly small movement but it shows a desire to be corporately Quaker and not just individualistically Quaker. With the internet traditional Quaker viewpoints are only a Google search away; sites like Bill Samuel’s Quakerinfo.com and blogs like Marshall Massey’s are breaking down stereotypes and doing a lot of invaluable educating (and I could name a lot more). It’s possible to imagine all this cooking down to a third wave of traditionalist renewal. Ohio Yearly Meeting-led initiatives like the Christian Friends Conference and All Conservative Gatherings are steps in the right direction but any real change is going to have to pull together multiple trends, one of which might or might not be Convergence.

Our role in this future is not to be strategists playing Quaker politics but servants ready to lay down our identities and preconceptions to follow the promptings of the Inward Christ into whatever territory we’re called to:

From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day. Then Peter took him, and began to rebuke him, saying, Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee. But he turned, and said unto Peter, Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence unto me: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men. Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. Matthew 16:21-28.

Robin M posts this week about two Convergent Events happening in California in the next month or two. And she also tries out a simplified definition of Convergent Friends:

people who are engaged in the renewal movement within the Religious Society of Friends, across all the branches of Friends.

It sounds good but what does it mean? Specifically: who isn’t for renewal, at least on a theoretical level? There are lots of faithful, smart and loving Friends out there advocating renewal who don’t fit my definition of Convergent (which is fine, I don’t think the whole RSoF should be Convergent, it’s a movement in the river, not a dam).

When Robin coined the term at the start of 2006 it seemed to refer to general trends in the Religious Society of Friends and the larger Christian world, but it was also referring to a specific (online) community that had had a year or two of conversation to shape itself and model trust and accountability. Most importantly we each were going out of our way to engage with Friends from other Quaker traditions and were each called on our own cultural assumptions.

The coined term implied an experience of sort. “Convergent” explicitly references Conservative Friends (“Con-“) and the Emergent Church movement (“-vergent”). It seems to me like one needs to look at those two phenomenon and their relation to one’s own understanding and experience of Quaker life and community before really understanding what all the fuss has been about. That’s happening lots of places and it is not simply a blog phenomenon.

Nowadays I’m noticing a lot of Friends declaring themselves Convergent after reading a blog post or two or attending a workshop. It’s becoming the term du jour for Friends who want to differentiate themselves from business-as-usual, Quakerism-as-usual. This fits Robin’s simplified definition. But if that’s all it is and it becomes all-inclusive for inclusivity’s sake, then “Convergent” will drift away away from the roots of the conversation that spawned it and turn into another buzzword for “liberal Quaker.” This is starting to happen.

The term “Convergent Friends” is being picked up by Friends outside the dozen or two blogs that spawned it and moving into the wild—that’s great, but also means it’s definition is becoming a moving target. People are grabbing onto it to sum up their dreams, visions and frustrations but we’re almost certainly not meaning the same thing by it. “Convergent Friends” implies that we’ve all arrived somewhere together. I’ve often wondered whether we shouldn’t be talking about “Converging Friends,” a term that implies a parallel set of movements and puts the rather important elephant square on the table: converging toward what? What we mean by convergence depends on our starting point. My attempt at a label was the rather clunky conservative-leaning liberal Friend, which is probably what most of us in the liberal Quaker tradition are meaning by “Convergent.”

I started mapping out a liberal plan for Convergent Friends a couple of years before the term was coined and it still summarizes many of my hopes and concerns. The only thing I might add now is a paragraph about how we’ll have to work both inside and outside of normal Quaker channels to effect this change (Johan Maurer recently wrote an interesting post that included the wonderful description of “the lovely subversives who ignore structures and communicate on a purely personal basis between the camps via blogs, visitation, and other means” and compared us to SCUBA divers (“ScubaQuake.org” anyone?).

Robin’s inclusive definition of “renewal” definitely speaks to something. Informal renewal networks are springing up all over North America. Many branches of Friends are involved. There are themes I’m seeing in lots of these places: a strong youth or next-generation focus; a reliance on the internet; a curiosity about “other” Friends traditions; a desire to get back to roots in the simple ministry of Jesus. Whatever label or labels this new revival might take on is less important than the Spirit behind it.

But is every hope for renewal “Convergent”? I don’t think so. At the end of the day the path for us is narrow and is given, not chosen. At the end of day—and beginning and middle—the work is to follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance in “real time.” Definitions and carefully selected words slough away as mere notions. The newest message is just the oldest message repackaged. Let’s not get too caught up in our own hip verbage, lecture invitations and glorious attention that we forget that there there is one, even Christ Jesus who can speak to our condition, that He Himself has come to teach, and that our message is to share the good news he’s given us. The Tempter is ready to distract us, to puff us up so we think we are the message, that we own the message, or that the message depends on our flowery words delivered from podiums. We must stay on guard, humbled, low and praying to be kept from the temptations that surround even the most well-meaning renewal attempts. It is our faithfulness to the free gospel ministry that will ultimately determine the fate of our work.

Last night I took advantage of an opportunity to stay late in the city to attend mid-week worship at a place I’ll call Meeting A (a thin disguise, but I don’t want this post to be about this particular meeting). Attendance was low, the worship never felt grounded and the one piece of vocal ministry didn’t speak to my condition. I came expecting all this but the behavior after the rise of meeting surprised me. The greeter asked a member to provided ten minutes of information about someone never identified who was engaged in a ministry shrouded in never-defined Quaker acronyms. This done, we were dismissed without even so much as a go-round of names. A few people beat feet for the door and others beat feet for their friends, backs turned to the newcomer.

There’s an irony in that this particular meeting was one of the targets of a multi-year yearly meeting campaign to field-test outreach ideas. Elaborate surveys, meeting self-evaluations and outside outreach mentors focused on six meetings. Gallons of ink continue to be spilt in yearly meeting publicity material about the program, yet after all years of attention no one at Meeting A apparently knows how to say “hello and howdido” to a stranger at mid-week worship. The failure of the the meeting’s outreach efforts seem pretty obvious: no one there cared about who a stranger was, why he had come, whether he had been to a Quaker Meeting before or might have any questions. No one gave the stranger any reason to ever come back.

About a year ago I had the opportunity to sit in on Meeting A’s religious education committee meeting. An exciting proposal for an adult R.E. program to attract newcomers was whittled down as every possible time for it was blocked by various committee meetings. There’s nothing the dying meeting needed more than fresh blood yet it fiercely prioritized an over-elaborated committee structure that left no room for either outreach.

The tyranny of programs

One thing I’ve been noticing lately is that many Friends try to use ambitious programs to achieve goals that are better met through simple ministries. Meeting A needs someone who holds a concern for friendliness. I’m sure there’s someone at the meeting carrying this gift; they could be identified and named. The Friend could be released from all committee work (gasp!) and given the simple permission to be friendly to newcomers and to any who might feel like outsiders to the meeting. They could hold the concern for friendliness and outreach at business meeting and gently labor with the meeting about the issues learned from befriending the newcomers. One or two people who faithfully held this as a calling could change the history of the meeting.

Part of this is a need to examine our dependence on committees. Meeting A is extreme but many Friends spend so much time in insider-focused committee meetings that they have little time to do much else. Why does the typical Quaker meeting have so many committees? Let’s take the ubiquitous peace and social concern committee. Why don’t rising concerns and ministries on social issues get brought to the ministry & council/overseers/elders and treated as any other leading? Meeting committees are often less interesting than the people in them. Many committees exude a chronic sense of being overburdened and actively resist taking on new leadings (in practice, this means that exciting ideas from younger Friends are routinely shut out,).

Why not release individual Friends to their leadings, with meeting testing and oversight and an open-ended possibility that leadings might come over time to be held by the meeting at large? Devolve some of the committee structure with a faith that the work that wouldn’t be picked up is the work we don’t need to be doing anyway. How amazing would it be to see a flowering of ministries or to see a whole meeting take on a homegrown concern? And how precious would it be if more individual Friends felt the encouragement to simply go up and talk to strangers at mid-week worship?

An amazing thing has happened in the last two years: we’ve got Friends from the corners of Quakerism sharing our similarities and differences, our frustrations and dreams through Quaker blogs. Disenchanted Friends who have longed for deeper conversation and consolation when things are hard at their local meeting have built a network of Friends who understand. When our generation is settling down to write our memoirs — our Quaker journals — a lot of us will have to have at least one chapter about becoming involved in the Quaker blogging community.

Quaker Storytelling as Religious Ed: how do you teach a religion that can’t be defined?

Howard Brinton’s Quaker Journals: Varieties of Religious Experience Among Friends

A guest piece by Evan Welkin

Shortly after finishing my second year at Guilford College, I set out to understand what brought me there. During the stressful process of deciding which college to attend, I felt a strong but slightly mysterious urge to explore Quakerism in my undergraduate years. Two years later, this same urge led me to buy a motorcycle, learn to ride it, and set out in a spiritual journey up the Eastern seaboard visiting Quaker meetings. While Guilford had excited and even irritated my curiosity about the workings of Quakerism, I knew little about how Quakers were over a large area of the country. I wanted to find out how Quakers worked as a group across a wide area of the country, and if I could learn how to be a leader within that community.

On electronic fellowships, online magazines and the freedom of this patchwork of independent cross-linked blogs: “Maybe the web’s form of hyperlinking is actually superior to Old Media publishing. I love how I can put forward a strong vision of Quakerism without offending anyone—any put-off readers can hit the “back” button. With my Subjective Guide to Quaker Blogs and my On the Web posts I highlight the bloggers I find particularly interesting, even when I’m not in perfect theological unity. I like that I can have discussions back and forth with Friends who I don’t exactly agree with. I have nothing to announce, no clear plan forward and no money to do anything anyway. But I thought it’d be interesting to hear what others have been thinking along these lines.”

The new Quaker Life has an article by Charles W. Heavilin asking Where’s the Power of the Lord Now?

In our postmodern, fragmented world, where now is the power of the Lord among Quakers? There is a vast divide between the accounts of early Friends and that of contemporary Friends. Most modern Quaker reporting is perfunctory — accounts with the spiritual quality of recipes in a cookbook. Conversations at Quaker gatherings now revolve around declining attendance or bleak assessments of the spiritual shallowness of society. Seldom, if ever, is there any mention of the power of the Lord.

Great stuff. He gets into the way our culture has negatively influenced Friends. After you read it check out C Wess Daniel’s commentary on the article:

Simply put, I think we need to learn the stories of the Quaker church once again, and begin to tell them, live them, and move forward in this tradition that has been past down to us as one that has been formed by the Spirit of Christ through such wonderful leaders as Fox, Fell, Barclay, Woolman, etc.

From the excellent religious journalism site The Revealer is Scott Korb’s review of the new book by the National Survey of Youth and Religion (I talked about the survey a month ago). It’s an great review, made better by the friendly disagreement in the commentary. But what struck me was his use of the terms “therapeutic individualism” and “moralistic therapeutic deism.”

The authors first identify the social contexts in which adolescents live and believe, starting with a discussion of therapeutic individualism, a set of assumptions and commitments that “powerfully defines everyday moral and relational codes and boundaries in the United States.” Personal experience is what shapes our notions of truth, and truth is found nowhere else but in happiness and positive self-esteem. In religious terms, according to teenagers, God cares that each teenager is happy and that each teenager has high self-esteem. Morality has nothing to do with authority, mutual obligations, or sacrifice.

But we’re not talking about the teenagers here, are we? The review hints that this is the condition of the adults too, only we’re better at couching it in more convincingly religious-sounding language. Did I say I attended two days of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting sessions this weekend? More to come.

I would love to expand the Quaker Ranter into a new online magazine that would encourage and mentor in a new generation of writers, activists and ministers in the Society of Friends. I’m already moving in that direction, with more and more “Guest Pieces,” but it can not be done with just a nip and tuck there: even with my fifteen years of publishing experience and the lovely instant publishing possibilities of the internet, some work and expense is needed to properly launch a new online journal.

Here’s an email from Danny, a new friend who I met at last week’s FGC-sponsored “Youth Ministries Consultation.” I liked his observations and asked if I could share this on the blog. I’m glad he said yes, since it’s a good perspective on where one convinced 19 year old Friend is at.

Update: Here’s Danny’s new blog, Riding the Whale

Liz Oppenheimer has posted an extraordinary account of how Friends transmitted Quakerism to her over time. I find myself at a loss of words to sum it up—you have to read it for yourself and I strongly recommend you do. Here’s just the merest snippet:

It took me years to understand that there was much, much more to Quakerism than just meeting for worship… I had yet to understand the concepts of corporate discernment or Gospel Order or waiting on the Spirit for guidance. None of my peers or spiritual friends at the time were talking with me about this stuff; and I have no recollection of anyone making the Quaker decision-making process more explicit at the time.

Liz will be offering a workshop at this year’s FGC Gathering. The description sounded great but if this post is anything like the sharing that will go on in that workshop, then you’ll want to be there.

In a similar vein, the Contrarian Quaker explains I’m not here to be seen by men. I’m here to worship God; “New people, as they walk in, are met with smiles and introductions but by their second or third visit they end up standing in the midst of a gabbing throng completely ignored after meeting for worship… I simply decided that I was here to worship God.”

By QuaCarol

Sometimes I have to lift up comments and make them their own posts. Here’s one of QuaCarol’s reply to Uh-Oh: Beppe’s Doubts: “I see this community of bloggers, reaching out to each other and connecting, when meetings (and here I venture to say “all”) are focused on keeping their pamphlet racks filled, rather than posting URLs on their bulletin boards or creating a newcomer’s URL handout.”

Interesting short post from Kwakersaur about the different ways Friends have related to God circa 1660, 1950 and today. A snippet

[The first generation of Friends’] language lacked the me-an-Jesus kind of spirituality that marks the 1955 minutes and characterizes a lot of Christian spirituality of today. For early Quakers — and I suspect early Christians — it was not so much Jesus as a friendly affable fellow who loved us in a warm and comfy positive-strokes-I’m-OK-You’re-OK kinda way.

One of the more revolutionary transformations of American Quakerism in the twentieth century has been our understanding of the testimonies. In online discussions I find that many Friends think the “SPICE” testimonies date back from time immemorial. Not only are they relatively new, they’re a different sort of creature from their predecessors.

On the train this morning I read Elizabeth Cazden’s Fellowships, Conferences and Associations: The Limits of the Liberal Quaker Reinvention of Meeting Polity. This 36 page pamphlet is a must-read for all of us Quaker Ranters.

This past week I’ve been wondering whether the best description of my spiritual state is a “conservative liberal Quaker,” i.e., someone in the “liberal” branch of Friends who holds “conservative” values (I mean these terms in their theological sense, as descriptive terms that refer to well-defined historical movements). Is there a small-scale “conservative liberal” movement starting up?

How did Liberal Friends get to the place where many of our our younger members consider the sweat lodge ceremony to be the high point of their Quaker experience? The sweat lodge has given a generation of younger Friends an opportunity to commune with the divine in a way that their meetings do not. It has given them mentorship and leadership experiences which they do not receive from the older Friends establishment. I want to get to the point where younger Friends look at the sweat and wonder why they’d want to spend a week at a Quaker event playing Indian when they could be diving deeper into their own faith tradition.

Yet another group of Friends (doesn’t matter which, it could be any) is planning a program on “community.” I wish we would more more actively engage with our tradition and not just selectively edit out a few words which makes Fox sound like a seventeen century Thich Nhat Hanh. We poor humans are looking for ways to transcend the crappiness of our war- and consumer-obsessed world and Quakerism has something to say about that.

One of the pieces I helped put online in my role of FGC webmaster is FGC Religious Education: Lessons for the 21st Century, by Beckey Phipps. It's definitely worth a read. It's comprised of interviews of three Friends:

Ernie Buscemi: "It is the most amazing thing, all the kids that I know that have gone into [Quaker] leadership programs--they've disappeared. I see the same thing [happening] as a woman and person of color, we are doing something wrong."

Marty Grundy: "Our branch [of Friends] has discarded the tools by which earlier Friends' practices were formed. We've lost our understanding of what it is that we are about."

Arthur Larrabee: "We need to tap into God's energy and God's joy. Early Friends had that energy, they had a vision, they had the connection with the inward Christ, a source of infinite energy power and joy."

While I wish this could be extended a bit (e.g., why not ask the 'kids' themselves where they've gone), at least these are the right questions.

It’s time to explain why I call this site “The Quaker Ranter” and to talk about my home, the liberal branch of Quakers. Non-Quakers can be forgiven for thinking that I mean this to be a place where I, Martin Kelley, “rant,” i.e., where I “utter or express with extravagance.” That may be the result (smile), but it’s not what I mean and it’s not the real purpose behind this site.

See also: "Resources on Quaker Plainness"

This was a post I sent to the "Pearl" email list, which consists of members of the 2002 FGC Gathering workshop led by Lloyd Lee Wilson of North Carolina Yearly Meeting (Conservative). Eighth Month 20, 2002

I thought I'd share some of my journey in plain-ness since Gathering. There's two parts to plain dress: simplicity and plain-ness.

The most important part of the simplicity work has been simplifying my wardrobe. It's incredible how many clothes I have. I suspect I have a lot fewer than most Americans but there's still tons, and never enough room in the closets & dressers (I do have small closets but still!). I'd like to get all my clothes into one or two dresser drawers and donate the rest to charity. Two pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a few days worth of socks and undergarments. This requires that I wash everything frequently which means I hand-wash things but that's okay. The point is to not worry or think about what I'm going to wear every morning. I've been to a wedding and a funeral since I started going plain and it was nice not having to fret about what to wear.

I also appreciate using less resources up by having fewer clothes. It's hard to get away from products that don't have some negative side effects (support of oil industry, spilling of chemical wastes into streams, killing of animals for hide, exploitation of people constructing the clothes at horrible wages & conditions). I try my best to balance these concerns but the best way is to reduce the use.

These motivations are simple-ness rather than plain-ness. But I am trying to be plain too. For men it's pretty easy. My most common clothing since Gathering has been black pants, shoes and suspenders, and the combo seems to look pretty plain. There's no historic authenticity. The pants are Levi-Dockers which I already own, the shoes non-leather ones from Payless, also already owned. The only purchase was suspenders from Sears. I bought black overalls too. My Dockers were victims of a minor bike accident last week (my scraped knee & elbow are healing well, thank you, and my bike is fine) and I'm replacing them with thicker pants that will hold up better to repeated washing & use. There's irony in this, certainly. If I were being just simple, I'd wear out all the pants I have--despite their color--rather than buy new ones. I'd be wearing some bright & wacky pants, that's for sure! But irony is part of any witness, especially in the beginning when there's some lifestyle shifting that needs to happen. As a person living in the world I'm bound to have contradictions: they help me to not take myself too seriously and I try to accept them with grace and good humor.

But practicality in dress more important to me than historical authenticity. I don't want to wear a hat since I bike every day and want to keep my head free for the helmet; it also feels like my doing it would go beyond the line into quaintness. The only type of clothing that's new to my wardrobe is the suspenders and really they are as practical as a belt, just less common today. A few Civil War re-enactment buffs have smilingly observed that clip-on suspenders aren't historically authentic but that's perfectly okay with me. I also wear collars, that's perfectly okay with me too.

The other thing that I'm clear about is that the commandment to plain dress is not necessarily eternal. It is situational, it is partly a response to the world and to Quakerdom and it does consciously refer to certain symbols. God is what's eternal, and listening to the call of Christ within is the real commandment. If I were in a Quaker community that demanded plain dress, I expect I would feel led to break out the tie-die and bleach and manic-panic hair coloring. Dress is an outward form and like all outward forms and practices, it can easily become a false sacrament. If we embrace the form but forget the source (which I suspect lots of Nineteenth Century Friends did), then it's time to cause a ruckus.

Every so often Friends need to look around and take stock of the state of the Society. At the turn of the 20th Century, they did that. There's a fascinating anti-plain dress book from that time that argues that it's a musty old tradition that should be swept away in light of the socialist ecumenical world of the future. I suspect I would have had much sympathy for the position at the time, especially if I were in a group of Friends who didn't have the fire of the Spirit and wore their old clothes only because their parents had and it was expected of Quakers.

Today the situation is changed. We have many Friends who have blended in so well with modern suburban America that they're indistinguishable in spirit or deed. They don't want to have committee meeting on Saturdays or after Meeting since that would take up so much time, etc. They're happy being Quakers as long as not much is expected and as long as there's no challenge and no sacrifice required. We also have Friends who think that the peace testimony and witness is all there is (confusing the outward form with the source again, in my opinion). When a spiritual emptiness sets into a community there are two obvious ways out: 1) bring in the fads of the outside world (religious revivalism in the 19 Century, socialist ecumenicalsim in the 20th, Buddhism and sweat lodges in the 21st). or 2) re-examine the fire of previous generations and figure out what babies you threw away with the bathwater in the last rebellion against empty outward form.

I think Quakers really found something special 350 years ago, or rediscovered it and that we are constantly rediscovering it. I have felt that power/ I know that there is still one, named Jesus Christ, who can speak to my condition and that the Spirit comes to teach the people directly. I'll read old journals and put on old clothes to try to understand early Friends' beliefs. The clothes aren't important, I don't want to give them too much weight. But there is a tradition of Quakers taking on plain dress upon some sort of deep spiritual convincement (it is so much of a cliche of old Quaker journals that literary types classify it as part of the essential structure of the journals). I see plain dress as a reminder we give ourselves that we are trying to live outside the worldliness of our times and serve the eternal. My witness to others is simply that I think Quakerism is something to commit oneself wholly to (yes, I'll meet on a Saturday) and that there are some precious gifts in traditional Quaker faith & practice that could speak to the spiritual crisis many Friends feel today.

In friendship,
Martin Kelley
Atlantic City Area MM, NJ
martink@martinkelley.com

Related Posts

• Plain Dressing at the FGC Gathering (Seventh Month 2004)
• Gohn Brothers and some plain dressing tips (Seventh Month 2004)

An visioning essay I wrote in March of 1997, for Friends Institute, the Philadelphia - area young adult Friends group I was very involved with at the time. I repost it now because many of these same issues continually come up in Quaker groups. See the bottom for the story on this essay, including the controversy it kicked up.

For more context about my ongoing concerns with generation issues in Quakerism, see my Young Adult Friends page.