A Quaker Rumspringa?

In an earlier post, I suggested the idea that a spiritual convincement experience, involving a direct experience of the Divine, might be something we could consider a prerequisite for membership. This was not to advocate it as an actual change we should undertake right now. There are lots of problems with the idea, though it is attractive in principle. One of the problems is the experience of those raised among Friends.

The thing is, when you taste something you have never tasted before, particularly if it is a strong flavour, it is strange, it's unmistakable. It grabs your attention and you really know you've tasted it. If, however, the flavour has been familiar to you since your childhood, you might barely be aware of it. This is a major factor in culinary culture shock, noticeable even in something as simple as an American and a Brit trying tomato ketchup made for the other market. To me, American ketchup tastes unpleasantly sweet, but to an American, British ketchup tastes like it's been spiked with vinegar. When you get into things that are even more different, like spices or seasonings that are characteristic of particular cuisines, it is even more pronounced. Consider for instance kimchi, or the Japanese umeboshi. For the European palate, east Asian food is particularly apt for examples.

Thoughts On Outreach

You may be aware that I recently posted some written ministry concerning outreach, asking why we are so quiet. I didn't mean in worship, of course; silent worship with contributions moved by the Spirit is at heart of the Quaker way. I mean how we are in the world beyond our little Meeting communities. I have written somewhat about this before, concerning the spiritual and moral imperative I see in outreach. It seems timely to put down some other thoughts on the matter.

I can understand a lot of reasons for reticence to engage in outreach. I can understand less the reticence I have seen among some Friends for others to engage in outreach, in general. You might be unsure of how to talk about Quakerism. You might not be generally socially outgoing. You might feel awkward at the idea of talking about your faith tradition as being a good thing. These are all valid. Some of them can be overcome, but none of them are things that you should feel you must overcome. Just because outreach is something that should happen, doesn't mean that everyone should be engaging in it. Indeed, I've sometimes seen people doing outreach who I would much rather weren't, but that's a whole other matter.

Equality Is More Than Equal Treatment

Equality is one of the most consistent values across the world family of Friends, and has a long and proud history as a Quaker value. Early Friend recognised the essential spiritual equality of men and women, and of rich and poor. Of course, there were hiccups on the way; Quakers were slower than we like to admit to recognise the evil of slavery, and meetings for church affairs (aka business meetings) were long segregated by gender. Still, the essential idea of equality, while it might not always have been as strongly held as it is today, is an important Quaker tradition, and is recognised as a core Quaker testimony by all groups of Friends that make lists of such (at least as far as I am aware).

What do we mean by equality? Equality before God was certainly always an important idea for Quakers, with no ordained clergy. There were those known as ministers, but this was a description of what they did more than who they were. They travelled in the ministry, held public meetings aiming to convince those outside of the Quaker fold, and developed reputations for inspired and powerful ministry in worship. For this, they were known as ministers, but this was essentially a recognition of certain gifts and activities, rather than giving them any authority. The source of authority remained the Spirit itself, and that dwelt equally in all.

Revision: A Reaction to the Decision

As readers of my blog, or indeed those who keep up with Quaker matters in Britain at all, will be aware, this weekend Britain Yearly Meeting met in session, with the principal matter on the agenda being the proposal to revise the YM's Book of Discipline, Quaker faith & practice. This was proposed at Yearly Meeting Gathering four years ago, but Friends were unable to come to unity; instead, it was decided that a group be appointed to help prepare the Yearly Meeting to be better able to take the decision in either direction, and to lay the groundwork for future revision whenever it might occur.

This group, the catchily-named Book of Discipline Revision Preparation Group (BoDRPG is how I abbreviate this; it seems that BYM decided the appropriate revision would just be RPG, which I suppose is not too ambiguous in context – even if it makes me think of Final Fantasy or Dungeons & Dragons), has been working hard for over three years. They have been working out logistics, engaging in explorations of theology, and running the Reading Quaker faith & practice programme to encourage Friends to be more familiar with the existing text before trying to make the decision again.

That preparation has borne fruit, with – by all reports that have come my way – an amazingly positive and constructive approach to the question at Yearly Meeting. The decision was taken, with suitable commentary in the minute instructing Meeting for Sufferings, and the to-be-appointed revision committee, about the approach that Yearly Meeting feels they should take.

(Buckle up, this is going to be a long one)

Spiritual "Zones of Proximal Development"

We have all of the ingredients we need for our
individual and collective development - we just
have to recognise them and work out how to
put them together.

Following some recent online discussions, I feel like it's worth spending another post exploring some learning theory, how it relates to Quaker practice – and what we can take from it to improve that practice. Previously, I wrote about communities of practice, and now I'll be looking at the idea of zones of proximal development.

ZPDs, as they are more concisely known, as a way of talking about what it is readily possible for a given learner to learn. There is what they already know, what they can already do, and there are those things that would be a struggle to attempt, and in between is the ZPD, the things that they can reasonably learn, or the things that they could do with help and guidance. This is a much simpler idea than communities of practice – in these last couple of sentences, the fundamentals of it are covered. Of course, there's more to it than that, but that's the basics all done. Given, in many spiritual situations, liberal Quakers' aversion to “teaching”, it might seem hard to apply this, but I think it has a particular application to spiritual development that doesn't require any sense of the didactic. It is this interpretation and application that I intend to explore in this post.

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.

My Convincement Experience

The meeting room at Pardshaw, site of some of my early
Quaker experiences. Photo by Andrew Rendle.

There's something that I think can be a really revealing, insight-provoking part of each of our personal experiences to share, and that we don't really share that much – how each of us that considers ourselves a Quaker came to do so. I don't mean simply how we came into contact with Friends, or when and why we started going to Meeting for Worship, or otherwise became involved in Quaker organisations. I don't mean how we got to know some Quakers at a peace camp, or on a political campaign, or at a demonstration, or at Pride.

I'm talking about the experience that made each Quaker realise that this was their spiritual path – the experience of what we have called, from our earliest years, convincement. My spellchecker doesn't like that word, probably because it's not really used much outside of Quaker discourse, and perhaps not that much even among Quakers. Online dictionaries give a perfectly good definition, though – in this sense, it refers to the action or state of being convinced. If you're new to Quaker discussion, it's worth pointing out that this might be similar to what other faiths refer to as conversion. We speak of Friends becoming convinced, rather than being converted, a difference that has a number of reasons feeding into it, and really beyond the scope of this post; perhaps I will return to it in another. If it makes it easier for you to think about, feel free to read “convince” as “convert”, but do be aware that you are missing some shading of meaning when you do so.

We Are Not Above Prejudice & Discrimination

Over the years of my time at Young Friends General Meeting (YFGM), I had the benefit of learning, by explanations and by example, from a lot of smart and experienced Quakers. One of those, in the first several years, was Maud Grainger, now Faith in Action tutor at Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre. I am still in touch with Maud, at least in the way that most people seem to be in touch with half of the people they've ever met nowadays (yay for Facebook), and so I saw her excellent blog post, on the face of it about a particular t-shirt – but really about the reasons why someone, especially a “professional Quaker”, should wear it. Do take the time to read the post, it's excellent, and not long.

It is a point that I've touched upon in the past, such as my written ministry on disability, or my recent post on how Quakers should respond to the #MeToo phenomenon and the widespread sexual misconduct behind it. I gladly stand behind Maud when she says,

The Need for Constant Rediscovery

As Quakers, we have a wonderful, rich history, full of learning. We have discovered principles and practices that guide us in our spiritual life and our secular life; indeed, ideally the two should become increasingly indistinguishable. There a centuries of Quaker writing to inform and edify.

And yet the very start of the Quaker story was railing against empty forms and notions. The idea that confession of the creed and going through the motions at church weren't enough, not even for those who tried to live virtuously and believed sincerely. Today, we wouldn't make a blanket assertion of this, but it is our experience for ourselves that true religious experience derives only from seeking to know the Divine for ourselves, and acting in the world out of sincere conviction stemming from this knowledge – not from acceptance of knowledge and teachings received from others, however wise and insightful. The story of Penn's Sword, however dubious its historicity, is an illustration of this principle; while wearing a sword was contrary to Quaker testimony, Fox did not urge Penn to abandon it until it was a matter of personal conviction for him. Even as a parable, this story is a great illustration of this principle, along with the complementary fact that, if we are open to it, the Spirit can transform us.