I must admit I’m a sucker for a certain kind of Quaker story in which a Friend faithfully follows mysterious promptings that turn out to be life-changing. It might have been an old Bill Taber book where I read about the Quaker minister who one day shouted to stop the carriage while passing a random house because she knew—knew!— that its inhabitants needed spiritual help (reader, they did!). I guess it’s not unlike the uncanny experience of being about to rise to give ministry when the person next to you stands and gives the same message you were about to deliver—whoa! The hair on the back of my neck always stands up to these stories.
This week I was reading the stories of Paul S. Lippencott, Jr., a recorded minister of my own Cropwell Meeting who lived from 1882 to 1968. I’m trying to understand the character of the meeting, and our outgoing clerk has told stories of being a kid and listening to Paul’s sermons back in the 1960s. Someone had gotten an early tape recorder to collect Paul’s tales and published the somewhat rambling account as Answered Prayers, a book I found at Vintage Quaker Books.
The best story is the lead one. As a young man of around 30, Paul was retired in bed reading religious books when he felt a prompt (queue etherial music). “After a short period of prayer it became very clear to me that I should go out and gear up the horse.” Prompts came to him one after another: drive west down the road a couple of miles to the next town, and then: buy non-perishable groceries at the store that was still open. All this was done in faith: “Until that time I had no idea where I was going to take this food,” he writes. Then a final prompt as he remembered “an old colored lady named Margaret Worthington” who “lived in a cabin by herself” a half-mile away. He had never met her but felt led to visit on that dark night. “I pulled up at the little one room cabin where there was a light through the window, and as I went to the door, I heard her voice praying for help and food. I was there under unusual circumstances to answer the fervent prayers of a believing soul.”
Yowsa!
If you want the whole story of the mysterious food run, it’s on the Cropwell website accompanying a talk on the long and entwined relationships between the meeting and local Black families. “Aunt Margaret” had a special talent for having her prayers answered and Paul’s book has more stories about her.
Paul tells other stories about following mysterious prompts. In one, he feels led to take a longer route back to his office after lunch. It’s the Depression and on this different path he runs into an old acquaintance, now out of work and “in very trying condition.” He’s feeling broken and finally admits to Paul that he’s considering taking his own life. They pray together and hope is restored. As Paul writes “There was some reason for me to make that short detour, even on a morning when I was pressed for time. I am thankful that the Lord helped me to be able and alert to listen to that Still, Small Voice.”
This is of course an echo of the parable of the Good Samaratan. People of high standing walked by the injured traveler but it was the lowly Samaratan who listened and heard the prompt and the prayer, stopped their busy life, and aided the traveler. Jesus told the story to illustrate the query “who is my neighbor.” I’m not sure I have the best ear for these kinds of prayers hanging out there but I’d like to try to listen more.
If you’re in South Jersey or Philly and want to hear more Cropwell stories, you’re invited to visit this Sunday to honor our outgoing clerk, Earl Evens. A few years ago Cropwell was down to two attending members and close to being laid down when a small group led by Earl felt a prompt to try to rebuild the community. Earl’s stories of old Cropwell, the way he’s played host to the rebirthed community, and his gentle opinions on Quaker worship have helped set the spiritual DNA of our expanding group (five new members last year and another applied this week). I’m the incoming clerk and omg, these are quite the shoes to fill.
