“In an awful frame of mind…”

I went to meetings in an awful frame of mind, and endeavoured to be inwardly acquainted with the language of the true Shepherd. And one day, being under a strong exercise of spirit, I stood up, and said some words in a meeting, but not keeping close to the divine opening, I said more than was required of me and being soon sensible to my error, I was afflicted in mind some weeks, without any light or comfort, even to that degree that I could take satisfaction in nothing. I remembered God and was troubled, and in the depth of my distress he had pity upon me, and sent the Comforter. I then felt forgiveness for my offence, and my mind became calm and quiet, being truly thankful to my gracious Redeemer for his mercies. And after this, feeling the spring of divine love opened, and a concern to speak, I said a few words in a meeting in which I found peace. This I believe was about six weeks from the first time, and as I was thus humbled and disciplined under the cross, my understanding became more strengthened to distinguish the language of the pure spirit which inwardly moves upon the heart, and taught me to wait in silence sometimes many weeks together, until I felt that rise which prepares the creature to stand like a trumpet, through which the Lord speaks to his flock.

John Woolman, 1741 – Quaker Faith & Practice 2.57

Among Quakers today little thought seems to be given to the Quietist period during the 18th century. The schisms of the 19th century (Gurneyites and Hicksites being remembered, generally, rather more than Beaconites or Wilburites!) have perhaps overshadowed this period when, it is easy to forget, John Woolman was working patiently towards the ending of slavery, and for peace during the Seven Years’ War.

Admittedly the Quietists were sometimes an odd bunch of people – it was they who carried plain dress and plain speech to extremes, and who were most committed, it seems, to endogamy and to other practices aimed at setting Quakers apart from the rest of society and the church. But there was more to them than that, I suspect. The dogma that history is written by the victors (whoever said it first) may be suspect – Constantinople, anyone? – but it perhaps contains some truth in this situation. It is the present-day Liberal Quakers, descendants of Hicksites, and Evangelical Quakers, descendants, largely, of Gurneyites, through whose eyes we look back at the Quietists.

As we look at what Quakers may become in the 21st century, perhaps we may find time to consider whether the stillness of Quaker worship, and perhaps of our personal spiritual practice, may be, as it was for Woolman, far more the motor of Friends’ transforming presence in the world than either our political convictions or our anger at injustice, good though those things may be in themselves. There are plenty of politicians and campaigners out there, without them all having to be Quakers; it is Friends acting, and praying, under the conviction of the Spirit, who have another voice, one that has so often wrought more peace and justice for those who suffer than our numbers would give us any right to expect. But that conviction, that leading, can only arise in silence, and in submission to the Spirit, as Woolman himself found out the hard way.

Do we need, among Friends, to look again at the Quietists, and to ask ourselves what we might learn – not imitate – from John Woolman’s contemporaries? I am no historian, but I feel it might be worth it to ask the question…

Reading Quaker Faith & Practice Ch. 6

In the course of reflecting on his experience as secretary from 1940 to 1945 of Friends War Victims Relief Committee and Friends Relief Service, Roger Wilson wrote in 1949:

Yearly Meeting is not, in the last resort, made up of a body of experts. People who know a great deal about the matter in hand may do most of the talking, central committee members familiar with the complexities of translating convictions into practical terms may appear to be leading the meeting. But a few halting yet sincere hesitations, uttered by a Friend from a small meeting in a distant county may, in fact, be of more significance in revealing a matter in its true setting than all the sophistication of the committee worthies. Again and again on deep issues it is reality as known and experienced by the simple and single-minded meeting, that does not know too much to have lost its simple faith, that guides the Society; and the central committee or its administrator who knows that its service is, in the end, related to the life of the local meetings in the country, will have a deep respect for the weight of Yearly Meeting.

QFP 6.08

To me, this little passage opens the very heart of what Quaker process is supposed to be all about. To the extent that Friends feel that the future of the Society of Friends is in the hands of the “sophisticat[ed]… committee worthies” then we are in danger of losing our trust in the simple faith that guides us, and hence of losing our way. Quakerism is not a path that is decided for its members by a specialised, highly-educated elite; it is a path set firmly in the lived experience of ordinary Friends, often in small meetings in out of the way places. As long as we can remember that, as long as local Friends have enough trust in Britain Yearly Meeting, and enough commitment to it to travel there and to overcome the sometimes real difficulties in finding accommodation, and in getting their bookings in in time, and as long as BYM remains committed to listening to “halting yet sincere hesitations” with sufficient patience and sufficient trust that they themselves may be hearing the Spirit in those stumbling words, then we shall go on, faithful “to the promptings of love and truth in [our] hearts” and we shall “[t]rust them as the leadings of God whose Light shows us our darkness and brings us to new life.” (Advices and Queries 1)

Sisters and Brothers in Peace

Be aware of the spirit of God at work in the ordinary activities and experience of your daily life. Spiritual learning continues throughout life, and often in unexpected ways. There is inspiration to be found all around us, in the natural world, in the sciences and arts, in our work and friendships, in our sorrows as well as in our joys. Are you open to new light, from whatever source it may come? Do you approach new ideas with discernment?

Advices & Queries 7

For a variety of reasons, I’ve been feeling a little disconnected from my Quaker meeting recently. Partly I think it has been because of my own rootedness within the hesychast tradition of prayer, and partly because of my (quite unsought) rediscovery of the Bible as one of the motors of my own spirituality. I am a Christian, open as I may be to new light from whatever source, and despite the strength of my tenderness for Buddhist teaching and practice, especially within the Pure Land tradition, and there have been times when I have grown to feel somewhat uncomfortable among Friends due to the strength of some currents in what Craig Barnett called “the identity politics game of ‘theists and nontheists’.”

As Craig went on say, though:

Anyone who is open to the possibility of encounter with some kind of reality beyond our own thoughts and opinions can enter into Quaker worship expecting to be changed, challenged and illuminated by a reality that is outside our control. Such an encounter may expand our understanding of reality, so that new words and images become meaningful to us. We don’t need to confine ourselves to narrow identity categories that exclude the possibility of change and growth. We simply need to be willing to meet whatever face of God is presented to us, to welcome and respond to it, and to listen and learn from the very different experiences of others.

Quaker worship, distinctive though it may be, does not stand alone as a discovery out of nothing sometime in the 17th century, but is part of a long tradition of direct encounter with God common to mystical Christianity as well as to other religions with currents of mystical experience and practice within their own paths. In our own time this tradition continues in many places other than Quakers meetings. It was Mother Teresa who said,

In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.

And yet, as it was borne in upon me in meeting this morning, there is something unique about Quakerism. What we have embarked on together is a radical, at times desperate, endeavour based simply in trust in God, and in the processes we as Quakers have over the years developed together. There is nothing else: no liturgy, no readings from Scripture, no sacraments other than this sitting together in silence, and the life that flows from that. The fellowship, the Friendship, that follows is so precious a thing that, if we let it, it can transcend all our differences in background, in language, in expression. This being sisters and brothers in peace and in silence together is what we are as Quakers – all we say and do must flow from this. Coming up to Yearly Meeting we are asked think of what spiritual preparation we might undertake. For me, perhaps this is a start…