Recognising and Supporting Ministry

We always say, and have said for some time (not without scriptural authority, though I sometimes think that one of the favourites is being twisted a little away from its intended meaning) that there are many gifts of the Spirit. These are abilities that we might put into use in the service of Truth, usually now meaning in service of our Meetings. However, liberal Meetings have largely grown away from recognising certain gifts. I speak, of course, of gifts of ministry.

It is necessary here to digress slightly into what we mean by “ministry”. It is a wonderful word, quite rich in its meaning before we Quakers came along and bent it into new shapes, albeit ones not inconsistent with the history or etymology of the time. It is derived from the Latin ministerium, meaning the office of a minister. Of course, what is meant by that term in Latin would not necessarily be terribly recognisable to modern English speakers. In countries where governmental terms derive from Britain (but a more recent divergence than that of the United States), a minister is a member of a government, generally one with considerable power – or at least who likes to think they have. Certainly they tend to have plenty of underlings. Of course, they are led by a prime minister, often conceived of as a first among equals but generally speaking the head of the executive element of government. In many faiths, we have ministers of religion, who tend to exercise authority over their flock in some way. A third major instance of the term, much less familiar to most people nowadays, is in the world of diplomacy. There, it is the usual short form for the title envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary, and obsolete but still technically extant diplomatic rank used for the heads of missions that were rated as legations, a lower status than an embassy (which is naturally headed by an ambassador). There was also, going further back, a further rank of minister resident, for missions ranked below legations – often from or to states that existed de facto rather than de jure, or otherwise poor or unimportant polities. Since the growing value of the UN in the 60s, sovereign states now generally only create embassies as their diplomatic missions, unless there are not full diplomatic relations between them. In that case, a mission led by a chargé d'affaires en pied will be established, if anything. In that case, the head of mission is accredited between the foreign ministers involved, rather than between heads of state.

Ego, Inner Light, and the Individual Journey

One of the allegations made about theologically pluralistic liberal Quakerism is that it feeds ego; that if we all have our own path that may look dramatically different from another Friends, we may become dominated, each individually and the Meeting and wider community of Friends collectively, by the worst sort of individualism. If we are all following our individual leadings, at least in terms of our spiritual development, it is all too easy to be led astray by our subconscious (or conscious) desires. Where a regimented, hierarchical faith community with a central authority can be a check on individual development through doctrine and review by the clerical hierarchy, a levelled faith community such as that of Friends can only apply any such check through a sort of collective supervision.

This is, frankly, obviously true in a logical sense. What is less obvious is how much of a problem it is in reality, and – related to that – what level of supervision, or even collective control, is appropriate.

Purpose, Practice and Structure

Quaker faith & practice, essentially the handbook of Britain Yearly
Meeting, devotes considerable space to the structures of different
tiers of the YM, AMs and LMs, the expectations of various roles,
and so forth.

In a recent blog on the website of Britain Yearly Meeting (BYM), Alistair Fuller suggests that we might benefit from re-examining our structures and practices, to make sure that they serve us and our faith, rather than vice versa. As a response to that post, and being British myself, this post is very much written from a BYM perspective. The way different roles are broken down between different positions and committees, and the terms used for them, will vary between different YMs, and will be even more different in programmed traditions. As such, there's no attempt at all to put an international perspective on the specifics – I'd love to hear about how this works differently in different places in the comments section.

As Alistair writes,

“Many of us are deeply familiar with these structures and indeed can find great comfort and reassurance in them. But might there also be something about the shape and structure of our Quaker communities – locally and nationally – that makes them difficult to access for many people?

Is there sometimes something about our ways of working that seems to stifle the Spirit, rather than creating the space for it to flourish and speak?”

Standing Up for Quaker Groundedness

In an earlier post, I argued that Quaker practice is essentially mystical. I stand by that point. However, it is also clear that this is not all there is to Quakerism. While my meaning of mysticism in that post is quite clear, there are connotations of mysticism that are unavoidable for many, and that jar with Quaker teaching. In this post, I will outline what those connotations are, why they jar in the minds of many Quakers, and why it is important that they continue to do so.

As I previously discussed, mysticism has the connotation of some of the more ill-defined spirituality approaches of the modern age, including New Age practices, conjuring images of billowing robes and the power of crystals. Even aside from that, people might think of the stylites, Christian ascetics who lived on pillars, believing that the mortification of their bodies would lead to the sanctification of their souls. It may even lead to poorly understood images of South Asian fakirs, beds of nails, that sort of thing. Overall, a lack of concern for the material or every day things of life. Even the understanding of mysticism that I argue fits Quakers, that of seeking through religious or spiritual efforts to attain spiritual understanding not accessible to the purely rational mind, has no obvious connection to the life that we live, to practical concerns. And yet it is the Quaker experience that our spiritual life drives decisions and actions in our practical life, and many if not most would say that the spiritual life is hollow if not accompanied by the practical life.

Service

Service is a great part of out tradition.
Service to our Meetings, service in the world.
Service to one another, service to those in need.
Desire to serve can be frustrated,
Our gifts unrecognised, or so we think.
But the service we should give is often a surprise to us.

So often we ask, “what can I do”, “let me serve”, neglecting the service that can be given without formal call. Thinking too much of ourselves, of demonstrating our worth.

Are you so great that your service must be seen, must be something you think commands respect?

Are you so petty that you think some service mean and beneath you?

All service, rightly given, flows from – and to – the Spirit. The Spirit cares not for status and respect, for weight or prominence.

Ask not what you can do, but what we can do. No service is reserved to one person, and no-one gives service rightly without their community behind them, though they may not know it.

Your service may be to support others, perhaps those acting under concern. They may be the ones recognised, but the same Spirit that drives them may be calling you to support them. You may resist, and the spirit cannot compel the unwilling, but do not be fooled by ego or unfamiliarity into ignoring its call.

Written November 2016