An Easter Sunday service in a Quaker Meeting differs in many respects from other Christian denominations. Some critics would question, first of all, the claim that the Society of Friends is indeed Christian. And there may be certain practices that validate that claim, although they are, as with most matters which involve professions of faith, dependent upon personal interpretation. While the outward trappings of other denominations are often missing from Quaker practice, there are some which make an appearance from time to time. I fondly recall shivering in the cemetery on Easter Sunday nearly two decades ago awaiting sunrise near the site of the original meeting house.
Quakers, have tended mostly to regard themselves as a group of seekers modeled on the early church before creedal mandates and hierarchical structures attempted to codify the on-going revelation of what Quakers refer to as the universal Christ into a rigid doctrinal edifice, which they contend bears more resemblance to a prison than a sanctuary. Early Friends believed, as many do today, that there is that of God in everyone: a spark of the living God that is available directly to each one of us; neither outward sacraments nor hired clergy are required to communicate with this Inward Christ.
As one might expect, any form of worship that places an emphasis on one’s personal experience of God also includes some element of mysticism. Quakers are somewhat unique in that their mysticism encompasses both individual and group mysticism with the primary emphasis on the latter. Not only is it possible that one may be lead by the Inner Light, it is equally possible that others, present, may also be so illuminated as if alone and yet bound together in understanding. This binding of individual to community is essential; and, while it is not foolproof, it mitigates the errors of the arrogance and ignorance that the ungrounded self may commit. Despite its categorization as a mystical fellowship, the Society of Friends is not a body which seeks to withdraw or isolate itself from the raucous trumpeting of life. On the contrary, Quakers’ advocacy for social justice and responsibility are well known. Egalitarianism was evident in the roots of Quakerism: the belief that all are ministers precluded disputes over the role and ways in which each member might participate–women stood on equal footing with men as they sought to speak Truth to Power. The only prerequisite to discern the still small voice is to attend the calm when the self’s disruptive monologue has ceased.
Friends may be best known for their peace testimony. It isn’t at all surprising that Quakers would embrace pacifism. Love transforms hatred and respect replaces retribution when one acknowledges the holy Thou in the other. There are many misconceptions regarding pacifism. As a member of society, a pacifist may be viewed as weak, inactive, generally negative, and wholly dependent on the goodwill of a tolerantly benign government protected by a vigorously funded and maintained military. Unfortunately the annals of history can offer no such government that satisfies our simple hypothesis or actually guarantees through the use of military force the same end toward which the pacifist strives. The unmitigated horror of war seems to be assuaged by cavalier advocates in every generation; they glibly mouth the sentiments of Richard Lovelace in his poem many of us were compelled to memorize, To Lucasta, On Going To The Wars–I could not love thee deare so much/Loved I not honor more. Of course, Wilfred Owen’s Dulce et Decorum Est offers a sobering counterpoint but it still does not dislodge war from the top of the list of options when we find ourselves in crisis–most often one of our own making. How many times must we hear the tale of the noble warrior beguiled and seduced by the comely handmaidens of war? How many times will this hero be snatched up in his deus ex machina, his ignorance unenlightened, only to return once again as the protagonist in his own flawed tale of woe? The concept of choice seems to elude us these days. We are driven in almost all that we do by a flippant, superficial, personal philosophy articulated through a form of advertising raised to the status of a quasi-religious language. Value is derived through consumption, higher value comes with proper penance –the truly hip refine their patent casuistry to include bartering on the increasingly chic and profitable market of carbon exchange– and the epitome of value, the Summa Bonum, is manifested when consumption sates itself through its own self-directed reveries.
Quakers use a variety of formats in their worship service, which in many meetings involves combinations of silence, music, pastoral ministry and any or all of the above. The meeting I have attended for over 30 years refers to itself as a semi-programmed meeting: half of the worship hour resembles a typical protestant service and the other half consists of silent meditation out of which those who are led to speak may do so. In our meeting’s format, a message of some sort usually precedes the silent portion of the meeting. The message is not a sermon in the usual sense one associates with protestant churches; it is not limited to a prepared text or spoken words. And while it is most often planned, the planned speaker may simply speak out of the silence as he or she is led to do so. There are many other formats for worship, my own preference is silence and is not a judgment on the efficacy or the practicality of the various styles used by other Friends Meetings.
The message on Sunday could be distilled to a simple homily on our confrontation of the painfulness of life, the consequences of our choices, and the promise of faith. Liberation from death is something we all ponder, or at least we entertain how well or how long we might elude it; or, failing that, how well we might embrace it when we can no longer stave off its inevitable advance. The toll of American soldiers had nearly reached 4000 we were told as the message unfolded( surpassed that mark today), and the deaths of Iraqis had risen beyond 600,000. Then as the lyrics from one of Phil Ochs songs were recited, the carnage was forsaken for higher ground by suggesting we do now what we knew we should, there won’t be time when we are dead. It was strange and disjointed for me and it didn’t end with the message. I may have become a bit jaded over the years but I very often can tell by the quality, character, or subject matter of a message when the silence will be broken by a spate of speakers; Quakers have a phrase for this phenomenon: a popcorn meeting. As I had anticipated, the balm of silence was summarily broken. Where is the outrage, a voice demanded, a self-proclaimed warrior and a veteran now pacified –by the killing he did and didn’t realize just what it was that killing did until he had done it– Where was the outrage for those slain soldiers? Can any one imagine what the parents feel? Why are we so silent? I want to know what you think about this? He spoke his name and said, I want you to tell me! and then sat down with the silence stirred, its harbor of calm cloyed with tangents of tension eddying through the uncertain motion of restive bodies. Before I realized I was standing, I spoke. What happened in the moment was stripped away, the words elude me now as they always do. In the moment, I am aware of the journey but I do not know where it will lead me, or if I arrive, the means which got me there. Once out of the moment, whatever I say is lost to me; a poem, Wallace Stevens claimed, is its meaning. But what I spoke about was choice, how what we are and what we do flows from our own choices. Choice seems to be reserved for those moments we can brand categorically as life changing, the ones where there are signs and flashing lights, fanfares accompanied by some catchy jingo that we can hum days after we’ve heard it. That’s what we think is significant. We know it is because we watch TV and are cocooned by the language of non-introspection. Jains have a saying that life should be lived in remorse. While I resist the overtones of being morose, I do acknowledge their emphasis that our actions, each and everyone of our actions, have consequences. Mathematicians have elaborated our dependency on seemingly unconnected events with chaos theory. The study of quantum physics offers us an ironic network of uncertainties and elusive connections that often forces theorists to supplement meaning with metaphor. The chill of global warming portends a desolation we have previously only acknowledged in parables. Where, one might ask, are we to find hope? How can we persevere? It is left to each one of us to answer that individually; however, there are few more exemplary statements of faith and choice than the moving affirmation offered by James Naylor. Naylor had been attacked by robbers and left for dead as he traveled to his home in Yorkshire. He was found by friends and taken to a doctor. Just hours before his death the following day, Naylor offered this powerful testimony.
There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no evil, nor to avenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things in hope to enjoy its own in the end. Its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention, and to weary out all exaltation and cruelty, or whatever is of a nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all temptations. As it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thought to any other: if it be betrayed, it bears it; for its ground and spring are the mercies and forgiveness of God. Its crown is meekness, its life is everlasting love unfeigned, and takes its kingdom with entreaty, and not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind. In God alone it can rejoice, though none else regard it, or can own its life. It is conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it; nor doth it murmur at grief, and oppression. It never rejoiceth but through sufferings; for with the world’s joy it is murdered. I found it alone, being forsaken. I have fellowship therein with them who lived in dens, and desolate places of the earth, who through death obtained this resurrection, and eternal holy life.
