One of the things I liked about my old Quaker job is that I occasionally had a moment in between all of the staff meetings (and meetings about staff meetings, and meetings about meetings about staff meetings, I kid you not) to take interesting calls and emails from Friends wanting to talk about the state of Friends in their area: how to start a worship group if no Friends existed, how to revitalize a local Meeting, how to work through some growing pains or cultural conflicts. I’ve thought about replicating that on the blog, and halfway through responding to one of tonight’s emails I realized I was practically writing a blog post. So here it is. Please feel free to add your own responses to this Friend in the comments.
Dear Martin
I have read that Meetings that are
silent for long periods of time often wither away. But I can’t remember where I
read that, or if the observation has facts to back it up. Do you know of any
source where I can look this up?
Thanks,
CC
Dear CC,
I
can’t think of any specific source for that observation. It is
sometimes used as an argument against waiting worship, a prelude to the
introduction of some sort of programming. While it’s true that too much
silence can be a warning sign, I suspect that Meetings that talk too
much are probably also just as likely to wither away (at least to
Inward Christ that often seems to speak in whispers). I think the
determining factor is less decibel level but attention to the workings
of the Holy Spirit.
One of the main roles of ministry is to teach. Another is to remind
us to keep turning to God. Another is to remind us that we live by
higher standards than the default required by the secular world in
which we live. If the Friends community is fulfilling these functions
through some other channel than ministry in meeting for worship then
the Meeting’s probably healthy even if it is quiet.
Unfortunately there are plenty of Meetings are too silent on all
fronts. This means that the young and the newcomers will have a hard
time getting brought into the spiritual life of Friends. Once upon a
time the Meeting annually reviewed the state of its ministry as part of
its queries to Quarterly and Yearly Meetings, which gave neighboring
Friends opportunities to provide assistance, advise or even ministers.
The practice of written answers to queries have been dropped by most
Friends but the possibility of appealing to other Quaker bodies is
still a definite possibility.
Your Friend, Martin
Our Meeting is often silent. We’re a small Meeting — our numbers don’t usually reach double figures. But we’ve kept going for more than fifteen years and the Meeting for Worship is central to our activities. Some people prefer busier Meetings with lots of ministry. There are two reasons for that: they may wish to get more involved or they may wish to be relatively inconspicuous. But other people enjoy coming to our small Meeting and value the silence as much as any ministry that occurs. Not all ministry is spoken and there is much more to the silence of a gathered Meeting than a mere absence of words.
We do have an existence beyond Meeting for Worship as can be seen from our blog http://beestonquakers.blogspot.com
P.S. I found this post through following quakerquaker on Twitter.
Douglas Steere in his Pendle Hill pamphlet “On Speaking Out Of The Silence” makes the same observation:
I would suggest to “CC” that the issue is not what happens to meetings that are silent for “long periods”; the issue is what has happened to an individual — her/him, you, me, anybody — who is silent that long.
Why the long silence? Has there been nothing in her or his spiritual life, yours or mine, that has had enough content to be worth sharing?
Perhaps, if there has not been anything in our own lives worth sharing, the reason could be that we have not been turning continually to God to consult about what we’re going through. We have not been asking, and that’s why we haven’t received.
If a seeker comes to a meeting, and no one there has anything to speak out of her or his personal experience, the seeker may conclude that there is just not much life in the meeting, and go on in search of a more vital spirituality elsewhere. That is indeed a part of the reason why some meetings wither away.
Peter wrote in his first pastoral letter: “…Always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear; having a good conscience.…” This is the apostle’s own advice to be always ready to speak in ministry. It’s the precursor to Fox’s own challenge, “What canst thou say?”
The responsibility to keep the life in our meetings is not “the meeting’s” but ours — CC’s, yours, and mine.
I think that part of the concern about Meetings that are silent for too long is that we cannot adequately convey our faith by saying nothing. And if any sort of “ministerial afterthought” is shared, then a newcomer or attender may interpret that as a signal that vocal ministry occurs outside of waiting worship.
At one of the meetings for worship that I attend regularly, there has been a custom that towards the end of the hour, the Friend who closes worship invites worshipers to share what is still on their hearts “that may not have risen to the level of vocal ministry.”
When there was a chance for that particular group, along with M&C members, to evaluate how well that format was working – it had been used when the worship had far fewer attenders – there was a fairly strong sense of the meeting that it was working well and was bearing fruit.
I recall that one Friend in particular commented that it helped (her? him?) understand that there was a difference between being led to speak and simply offering up a message because maybe it was a good idea or worthy thought.
Blessings,
Liz Opp, The Good Raised Up
The earliest claim I am aware of, made on the basis of a historical study, was by John Stephenson Rowntree, in his essay Quakerism Past and Present, which was one of the major foundations for the “Quaker renaissance” in Britain in the 1800s. His claim was based on an extensive study of membership statistics and meeting documents from the preceeding centuries; it was bolstered, I believe, by A.R. Barclay’s Inner life of the Commonwealth, which came out soon after Rowntree’s essay. He was writing at a time of controversy in the YM, when there were extreme statements for and against the value of vocal ministry (one Friend was recorded to have said, “The only thing the ministry requires among us is universal suppression,” or words to that effect, I am quoting from memory.
Rowntree was writing to call the Society of Friends to renewal on various fronts, among them a renewal of the ministry, including the travelling ministry. While he was theologically pretty evangelical, he was deeply read in early Quakerism, especially Fox (his essay, “MIcah’s Mother” on the Wilkinson-Story separation, is a very solid meditation and study on the tensions at play during the establishment of “gospel order” by Fox and others), and thoroughly committed to the free ministry — so although some people have used the idea that too-long-silent meetings wither to justify the pastoral system, that is not how Rowntree and his younger allies thought at all. (thouth there were a few British Friends who thought maybe the pastoral system should be tried– this story is a complex one.) When his nephew, John Wilhelm Rowntree, and his contemporaries, like E. Grubb, W.C. Braithwaite, JW Graham, A.N. Brayshaw and others came along, a main goal of their liberalising work in the YM was the ecnouragement of an intellectually and ethically engaged, more daring and effective Christian ministry among unprogrammed Friends.
For more about the context for this conversation, I recommend JS Rowntree “Gospel ministry in the Society of Friends, ” “The Work and maintenance of Gospel ministry,” and JW Rowntree, “The problem of a free ministry” and “the present position of religious thought in the Society of Friends,” among other papers from that era. Rufus Jones has a lot to say about the importance of a vital ministry, and the weaknesses that result from a weakened ministry, in his Later Periods of Quakerism, and some of his writings from the American Quaker days.
I seem to remember something John Punshon wrote — probably in Encounter with Silence — about 19th century meetings going for weeks and months at a time with no vocal ministry. He might have been referring to Rowntree’s essay.
I am not sure if Punshon ascribed a reason for this. My own sense is that it had to do with an overly strict application of Elias Hicks’ suspicion of self-centered ministry, ministry driven by what we would call the ego rather than by the Living God. The “how do we know the difference” is the perennial problem of Quaker ministry, I think.
Unless a meeting has adopted an ideological never-ever-under-any-circumstances-say-ANYTHING-in-meeting-that-isn’t-100%-for-certain-from-God, I think Marshall’s diagnosis is pretty accurate.
I would add to it only that I do think there’s a corporate dimension that suppresses ministry as well. When members of a meeting as a whole don’t know each other very well, or where they know each other too well and have unresolved conflicts or disunity, that, too, can contribute to a drying up (or dilution) of vocal ministry. Silence then becomes the common denominator, but it is the dead slience of fearful apprehension rather than the vitality of reverential awe and expectation.
In my experience, when a meeting is active in its other ministries — pastoral care of members, religious education, evangelism and outreach, engagement in and service to the larger society, etc. — vocal ministry kind of takes care of itself.
I just got back to NY from a trip to IL., having been on the road for the past week and a half and not reading e‑mail or blogs.
I was kind of surprised and immensely grateful for the responses to my question about silent meetings. If I needed to be convinced that Quaker Blogs Rule, I was certainly convinced by what I read. In the old days it would have taken eons to gather the information provided by those learned Friends. Chances are I would have given up somewhere along the way, so I would like to thank each and every one of them for his/her contribution. I plan to follow up and read Rowntree’s essays if I can find them in print. I do have a copy of Punshon’s Encounters with Silence and Douglas Steere’s On Speaking Out of the Silence, so will start there.
I’m sorry to be communicating with you this way but I couldn’t decided which ID(?) category to use; I’m not particularly into anonymity.….……I“m known as Cousin Claire in AVP circles here in NY state, so you could identify me that way if you would be so kind as to forward this to those who took the time and thought to answer my question about silent meetings.
I have been thinking a lot about what happens during the silence in meetings. A few months ago, I had a conversation with another Young Adult Friend who, unlike me, grew up in a Friends Meeting. She said that she never knew what her mother was doing during the meeting and finally, as an adult, she asked. Her mother responded that she spent the whole time replaying the same Paul Simon song in her head. This struck me as funny, but also sad.
I think completely silent meetings can be lovely, but I agree that silence can make it difficult to bring newcomers and young Friends into the meeting. A Friend at University Friends Meeting told me about how at a meeting retreat several years ago the members focused on what happened during the silence. The facilitator asked several Friends with active vocal ministries to come forward and describe what they experienced when they felt called to vocal ministry. Then the facilitator asked all of the people who were usually quiet what their experience was in meeting. My friend said that this conversation really improved the quality of worship at University Friends.
I was mulling all of this over when it was time for me to write a paper for the Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology Conference, so I ended up writing about what I experience in silence in meeting (it was loosely related to the theme). I later used that paper as a jumping off point for my blog:
http://questforadequacy.blogspot.com/2008/04/getting-started.html
I think that if meetings want to grow, we need to focus on what is happening in the meeting and why we are there. I don’t necessarily think these questions need to be answered during worship, but they are important to think about and discuss at some point. Otherwise, what are we going to tell seekers who wander in?
You have raised a few issues here that have been on my mind for a while now – but life has been too intense for me to comment until now.
First, I crave silence in Meeting for Worship but not at the expense of hearing what the Spirit might have to say through the vocal ministry of others. If a Meeting happens to be completely silent periodically, that’s fine. But if silence becomes a barrier or a way to isolate ourselves in Meeting, it may be time to open ourselves up a bit more.
Now if every Meeting is full of people jumping up without much time between the last vocal ministry (and I’ve seen this happen far too often) the sense of “waiting prayerfully” seems to get lost.
Meeting for Worship is not individual meditation nor is it a debate group nor is it a gotta-say-something-every time affair.
And we in our imperfect state, sometimes fall into habits.
Please allow me to post a pet peeve: reading during Meeting for Worship. I take responsibility for the fact that what seems to be outside my sense of worship may well be the vehicle for New Light for someone else – but I would need someone who engages in this practice to help me understand how the Spirit gets through when the mind is otherwise engaged. When I see someone sitting across from me reading a book, I wonder how we are engaged in corporate worship.
Anyway, the best of all possible worlds (a trully Gathered Meeting) is a joy to be a part of. I treasure them when they occur and come away feeling spiritual nourished.
cath
I’m minded of a story that’s probably apocryphal, though I’ve heard it attributed to three or four prominent Friends.
A four-year-old came to meeting with his mother. After five or ten minutes of sitting in the silence, he whispered — loudly enough that everyone could hear — “Why is everybody so quiet?”
His mother shushed him embarrassedly. Another couple of minutes passed. Then an elderly Friend rose and said: “The first message asks a good question.”
I suppose it begs the question to speak of living silence and dead silence. But there’s a great difference between the two. I’ve sat in meetings where, to my sensibilities, the silence was rich and deep, and if there was a message, it quickened everyone there. I’ve sat in others where both the silence and the messages were dry as the bones in the Valley of Gehinnom. I know which I’d go back to!
Some years ago I agreed to put on a program concerning First-day School for teens at a neighboring meeting. I brought along some of my own teens, figuring that the meeting we were visiting hadn’t seen one for years and could probably stand being reminded.
On the way there, one of my companions said, “Why don’t we say we’re going to speak out of the silence … let it continue for about an hour … and then look up and ask, ‘Any questions?’ ”
The young Friend’s eyes were glittering with mischief. Her idea tempted me, to be honest. But I allowed sadly as how I really didn’t think they’d understand, while giving thanks that I knew at least one person who’d got it.
— Phil.