Status, Power, and Betrayal of the Spirit

Not every decision can be referred to the whole of a body corporate, such as a Quaker Meeting. It is impractical in some cases, for instance because of the need for a decision in a short time; it is implausible in others, for instance because of the need for those making the decision to have a clear understanding of certain facts or law; it is simply impossible in others, because it is not ripe for discernment in a large group, in the Quaker case, or for a vote or consensus decision in most other contexts, because it requires preparatory work. That preparatory work will inevitably mean making preliminary decisions, excluding some possible options.

So we have people in positions that, though we may hesitate to use the term, are positions of leadership. Elders lead our spiritual development, clerks lead the process of discernment, premises committees lead on the maintenance and use of our property, even librarians lead by making decisions on what to deliberately acquire for the library – and occasionally what to deliberately exclude when a copy is donated. They are positions of status, as respect is not unreasonably given to those whose names have been discerned to serve in certain roles – though we serve most faithfully when we deny, especially to ourselves, the status of a role in which we serve.

Nominations, Mandates, Power and Service

Engraving of Vespasian, Roman Emperor,
by unknown artist circa 17th-18th century

We Quakers have a somewhat idiosyncratic way of getting a lot of our work done. In any organisation, in any community, there will be certain jobs that need to be done for that community – and some way of deciding who does the jobs and in what way.

In your stereotypical secular organisation, the main ongoing jobs are codified into specific positions – chair, secretary, treasurer, social secretary, communications officer, and so forth. Any work that needs doing is either in the remit of one of these people, or an executive committee decides who will do it. Who serves in the various named positions is usually a matter for election, though it is not unheard of for an executive committee for one year to designate the executive committee for the next, subject to ratification in general meeting, or for some or all of the positions to be filled ex officio by people with positions in other (typically constituent or affiliated) organisations. By and large, though, it comes down to something to some degree typically democratic – there is a vote of the membership to determine who serves in what role.

In less formal organisations, work is often done by whoever shows up. Decisions, be they by vote or consensus, are made at meetings by a self-selecting body of those who cared enough to show up. If the organisation wants a newsletter, someone volunteers to do it, and does so if no-one objects; when they cease to do so, someone else will offer – or not, and the work doesn’t happen, for good or ill.

The Great Lord and His Sons

There was once a great lord. His realm was peaceful and prosperous. He had five sons, and he gave thought to how they should be raised.

He had not been raised to rule himself, as he had elder brothers. They had all died before their father, so the rule had fallen to him. So it was in his mind to raise them all to know what it is good for lords to know. He saw that it would be best for his realm if any one of them could take up the rule of the realm, govern rightly and judge fairly.

Yet his aunt had married the lord of another realm, and had had many sons. They had all wished to take the place of the lord their father when he died, and so had schemed and plotted and killed, and in the end gone to war on one another. All had died, in assassination or in war, and the last at the hands of his people when he claimed rule over a land broken by war. The lord of that realm now was the the great lord's aunt's grandson, and the power in the hands of courtiers ruling in his name. So it was that the great lord saw that it would be best for his realm, and for his family, if none of his sons should greatly desire to succeed him.

Doing It Ourselves

I've heard it said, many times, that Quakerism is a “do it yourself” religion.

People usually seem to mean it one of two ways. In one of those ways, they are usually being broadly positive about the idea. In the other, people tend to give it a negative connotation.

The first, positive way refers to our lack of separate, particularly paid, clergy. We are all in it together, we all muck in to do the jobs that need doing. Whether it's spiritual nurture, pastoral care, administration or looking after our property, everything is a communal task. This is, I think, usually seen as a positive both in the sense of having thrown off the authority of the “hireling priests” and in the fact that it enriches our sense of community. It is also often used as an encouragement, even admonition, to encourage members of our community (whether in formal membership or not) to get involved and take on voluntary roles within the community.

The Spiritual and Moral Imperative of Outreach

It is not enough for the door to be open. People
need to know it is there, and have some idea
about where it might lead.

I have often bemoaned the tepid attitude to outreach among many liberal Quaker Meetings, especially here in my home Yearly Meeting in Britain. There is, perhaps, more enthusiasm centrally, but in many Local and Area Meetings, it is not something that people put a great deal of thought or energy into. There are those Meetings that do go at it wholeheartedly, of course, and I applaud them for it.

Some of the arguments for greater outreach that I see – in fact, if I'm honest, most of them – focus on the fact our numbers are dwindling, and that there is a practical need to get more people involved in our Meetings. I feel there should be more attention given to the spiritual imperative for outreach, and so that is what I will be presenting in this post.

For the many denominations commonly considered evangelical, there is a clear justification for their work to bring others to their faith, and the insistent persuasion, sometimes veering into badgering, that they tend to employ. The Great Commission of Matthew 26, for those who do not believe it to have been fulfilled (preterism being a fascinating subject that I might return to on an occasion that I feel like doing more research into Christian stuff), is a clear injunction that does not seem unreasonable to consider to have been passed on to the whole Church. From that point of view, attempting to cause as many people as possible to become Christians is perfectly logical, however irritating some might find it. Some Christian or Christian-derived groups even hold the conversion of others to give one some sort of credit with God, to ensure a better result in the afterlife.

For that matter, in any faith – whether Christian or not – in which there is an idea of “salvation”, of a good or bad outcome after death that is largely determined by right belief (and perhaps right action as well), there is a clear moral imperative to at least give as many people as possible the opportunity to come to that right belief and to understand how they should act, and why. Repugnant as some of the acts it was used to justify over history might have been, there is a logic of compassion in trying to bring people “to God” in such a framework.

Understanding and Trusting Quaker Nominations

Nominations is one of the more mysterious, and in my experience often mistrusted, processes in the world of Quakers. A relatively small number of Friends go into a room, and comes out with a list of who should be fulfilling which role in their Meeting. They pounce on unsuspecting Friends, or possibly just send them an email, letting them know that the committee has discerned their name for some terrifying, or just unexpected, role, demanding to know whether the Friend is willing and able to take on that role.

Well, that's a bit of a caricature, but I'm sure most experienced Friends recognise that image of nominations. It's also likely that a fair proportion of experienced Friends have served on a nominations committee or other nominating group at some point, though not everyone ever does – quite rightly, as not everyone really has the requisite gifts, just like not everyone is suited to being a treasurer or clerk, or elder.

There are all sorts of variations in nominations practice, some of which are necessary, or at least logical and reasonable, adaptations to circumstance. Some are innovations that are in keeping with the essential principles of Quaker nominations, and some are, frankly, compromises of those principles in the name of expediency. In this post I will explore what I consider to be the essential principles of Quaker nominations, both spiritual and practical, and how they can be implemented in such a way that it maximises the trust that Friends not on the nominating committee can have in the process.

Quakers as a Community of Practice

When I was studying educational research, there was a particular model, generally applied to informal education, that I became particularly taken with. From the first, I though that it may be applicable to liberal Quakers. Communities of Practice are a theoretical model developed by Jean Lave and Etienne Wenger, hereafter referred to as Lave & Wenger. It is a model of what is called situated learning, wherein learning is not considered the transfer of knowledge and skills from those who already possess them to those who do not, but rather the development of knowledge and skills within a social situation.

A community of practice is, unsurprisingly given the name, defined by commonality of practice. Where a community of practice has many units, such as local branches, one characteristic that determines that it is truly a single community of practice is that someone who normally participates in a single branch could participate in any branch without special notice or preparation, and that practice would be sufficiently similar between the two that the visitor can fully participate. It is this compatibility and centrality of practice that differentiates a community of practice from a community of interest, which the community is bound primarily by a common interest of some sort. In addition, most knowledge is tacit, gained from some sort of experience, rather than delivered in a didactic manner or reified in documentation.

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.

What Is Ministry?

One of the hardest things, in my experience, about trying to explain Quaker practice to those unfamiliar with it, is getting down and detailed about Meeting for Worship. Okay, so we sit in silence, and wait for the spirit to move someone to speak; that much sounds simple. I've written before, in some detail, with thoughts on how to tell if the spirit is moving you to speak. After that, though, once someone is speaking, how do we understand what has been said in that spoken ministry? Even assuming that everyone who stands to speak is genuinely moved to speak, there are several ways to think about this.

The most obvious one is at one extreme, that these are genuine, literal messages from God/the Spirit/the Divine/whatever you're calling it. That the words themselves are chosen for you, and the speaker is merely a conduit, with no responsibility for what is said. At the opposite extreme, perhaps the Spirit only gives the germ of an idea, and the compulsion to share it. Then the words are the choice of the person speaking, as they try to express an idea, possibly a very nebulous idea, that has been placed into their mind. I have spoken to Friends who view ministry at each of those extremes.

As is usually the case, however, when there are extreme points of view, there's also the possibility of ideas that lie between them. I suspect that most Friends lie somewhere in that in-between space, as indeed do I, but there's a lot of variation possible. Ultimately, however, all such positions amount to something of the form that ministry is a collaboration between the individual and the Spirit.

Quaker Week

Once again, Quaker Week is here. This is a week that Quakers in Britain designate for Outreach, Friends House sets a theme, and all individual Quakers and Meetings are encouraged to run activities to help raise the profile of Quakers, inform and interest the general public, and just generally be “out there” more.

Outreach is a difficult topic for British Quakers. One of the first things I learned about Quakers could be summarised as “we do not proselytise”. Of course, I learned that in the context of liberal Quakers. Evangelical and pastoral branches of the world Quaker family are quite keen on proselytisation, especially (as you might expect) the evangelical branch. But liberal Quaker, especially the sort here in Britain, just don't go out and tell people they should be Quakers.

Yet, obviously thing we have something worth finding out about, and thus surely worth sharing. Anecdotally, it seems that those convinced in adulthood are growing, as a proportion of our Yearly Meeting, compared to those raised among Quakers. I'm sure someone has figures on that, but I don't have them to hand; in any case, that is the impression I, and others I know, have been getting over the last decade or so, at least in terms of people who are actively involved in Quaker goings-on. When you add our dwindling numbers and ageing demographics, it becomes clear that we would be both selfish and foolish not to try to share this wonderful thing we have found.

Ownership of Ministry

Since I first started writing down and sharing written ministry, something has been troubling me. It may sound shallow and trivial, but it's a really complicated question with real implications on what I can and should do in future.

To what extent can I, or should I, claim ownership of the written ministry I produce? The law is very clear, because the law doesn't take into account claims of divine inspiration in writing. It came from my head, through my hands, onto paper (or keyboard), and its my intellectual property. What happened to get it into my head in the first place, the law doesn't care about (unless I was literally copying from existing creative work). When it comes to spiritual writing, however, there's so much more to it than that.

On Sin and the Liberal Quaker

Sin isn't something you hear liberal Quakers talking about very much. I suppose that is largely our modern tendency towards non-judgementalism, as well as the increasing tendency to avoid religious language. As most people think of it, talking about “sin” is talking about things that you are religiously forbidden to do, and we don't tend to do that any more.

However, there have been several conceptions of sin, even just among Christian scholarship. The various major branches of the Christian church have their own formal, theoretical conceptions, and practices stemming from these, while theologians have expounded their own views at different points in history.

Thomas Aquinas held sin to be contrary to virtue; referencing Augustine of Hippo, his Summa Theologiae describes it as being “word, deed or desire contrary to the eternal law”, seeing this as superior to competing definitions of it as contrary to reason, or as an offence against God. I must admit, with limited background in Christian theology, I find many of distinctions made in this analysis baffling, but an important distinguishing point seems to be that sins are defined and differentiated by the “end and object”, or motive, for the sin. Adultery is differentiated from murder not by the difference in the acts, but in the difference in why they are committed, in what the sinner seeks to get, obtain or induce by committing the sin. However, it does not require that the sinner conceives their act as sinful, and that sin may come from a misplaced desire to do good. Really, the whole text is a work of philosophical logic applied to theology, as much theological writing is, and I wonder if this might be part of the source of the objection to rational approaches to faith among Quakers, now and historically. It is certainly cold to me, and seems vastly inferior to drawing our understanding of the Divine, and of right action, from lived experience. Reason has its place, but cannot supplant that experience. However, I digress…

What is "Written Ministry"?

You'll notice that, at the time of writing, the majority of posts on this blog are in the “ministry” category. As noted in the About page on this blog, this category contains written ministry. As also noted there, this means

“…it is not something I have carefully thought about and written down, revised, and optimised to make the point I'm trying to make; rather it is something I feel compelled to write down, and make very limited choices about myself. In short, it is the same as the Quaker tradition of spoken ministry during Meeting for Worship. I feel called to write it, and like any ministry in Meeting for Worship, I believe it to be divinely inspired.”

However, even to other Quakers, this may still be a very strange and unfamiliar concept, so I will try to write some more about what this means, and what the experience is like.

When we talk about “ministry”, in the Quaker context, there are a range of possible meanings. The most obvious, often, is that of speaking in Meeting for Worship. However, we also talk about the ministry of a person, or an organisation, in terms of the service it does for the Religious Society of Friends, and for wider society. A ministry of teaching, or of hospitality, or of outreach; of service to the poor, or engagement with government. These are all ministries, and some produce written results. In that sense, a great deal of writing by Friends is the product of their ministry, including some names that many would recognise writing today, such as David Boulton, Derek Guiton, and Pink Dandelion. I do not deny the validity of any of that as ministry, but it should be distinguished from what I speak of when I say “written ministry”, as will hopefully be clear from this post.

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