I wrote the following post as a "Note" on Facebook, and a few people who aren't on Facebook have asked to see it, so I thought I'd reproduce it on this blog. Jon's YouTube video stirred up a lot of comments, many coming from Friends outside of General Conference (unprogrammed) Quakerism, while the song was written about Jon's experience growing up in FGC (and I would say it was directed toward FGC Friends too). Like any in-group work, it contains lots of in-jokes and shared assumptions, and puzzles over particular concerns. This Note was my attempt to explicate some of them for non-FGC folks. This difference between speaking within your sub-culture versus speaking across sub-cultures was the topic of my very first post on this blog; I think it's quite beneficial to get influenced by the other branches of Quakerism, but it can be easy to be mis-understood.
So, I just posted a link [on my Facebook page] to a light-hearted YouTube video of Jon Watts' song "Friend Speaks My Mind." But it has a repeated line which may seem pretty negative to some of my more traditionally-Christian contacts on Facebook. Hence this sober, serious Note about a funny, light video.
It's a song he wrote as a beginning song-writer (still in college at the time), celebrating how deeply he'd gotten into Quakerism and the progress he'd made in wrestling with his faith tradition. The line is --"I'm not a Christian, but I'm a Quaker... I've got Christ's Inner Light, but he's not my savior"--
So I thought I'd explain. What I see in it starts with knowing that a lot of what mainstream secular American culture hears about Christianity is from the political right wing or the fundamentalists. (The first exposure I ever had to Christians explaining themselves was through a Jack Chick pamphlet at age 10. Turned me off for years!) I don't know exactly what Jon Watts experienced growing up, but I think it's fair to say that teenagers from cosmopolitan/suburban east-coast high schools tend to have a negative view of Christianity as a result. So here's Jon Watts, wanting to talk about what he's learned about Jesus, but not wanting to be misunderstood as somehow right-wing. He needs to clear a new rhetorical space, jumble up the terms, try out his own theology, to help people think along new lines the way he has been thinking -- deeper into Quakerism's roots in Christianity. Notice his lines "I don't fully understand it" [Quaker tradition, he's still figuring it out] and "when I heard this Christian stuff I got uncomfortable a lot, I'm like 'what does Jesus have to do with George Fox?'... but now I kinda understand the man, I got a soft spot."
So, within the context of Philadelphia and Baltimore Yearly Meetings (especially Philly), the song is actually being intriguing for just mentioning Christ positively. The real joke/point/fun/message of the video is to see all these Friends at an oh-so-silent meeting for worship get moved (by the Spirit, right?) into dancing. And frankly, the sad reference is to the all-too-many "silent" (aka unprogrammed) meetings for worship among unprogrammed liberal Friends which really are silent, and boring, and dead. (I've been in my share.) Jon's passion (one of them) is to wake people up to being excited about the Inner Light.
The song really speaks to a lot of different levels. Even the verse celebrating the Quaker "alphabet soup" of organizational acronyms -- sure, it's de riguer among active FGC Friends to caution against using too much jargon... but remember the high-school kid or new attender who doesn't know about all the wider Quaker conferences and groups. He's saying -- "there's a big Quaker world out there! get involved! I love these people and you can too!"
So, he's encouraging staid-and-stuffy silent Friends to get involved in their religion, go deeper, sing and dance in worship, and start getting some kind of relationship with Christ. What more could you ask? (In fact, I'm genuinely curious about whether this would fit some of your definitions of evangelism.)
And to my FGC/unprogrammed f/Friends... well, I hope I didn't spoil the fun for you by laboring so much to explain it....
4/08/2008
Poem for John Banks, 1654
There has been some new interest lately in the quaking that earned the first Friends our nickname. (Of course, experiences of trembling or quaking in worship happen today in churches associated with the holiness or pentecostalist movements. But truly, pentecostalism is not a group I'm familiar with at all.) A few weeks ago, the front page of QuakerQuaker included a blog completely dedicated to exploring physical, bodily quaking as an element of renewal in modern-day Quakerism. (Scott Martin's The Ecstatic Quaker) While not everything in his recommendations is true to my own experience, it was very thought-provoking.
Liberal Friends (like me) find the Inner Light to be a useful and treasured name for a central experience. But early Friends had a really nuanced understanding of the Inner Light --the Inward Light, the Light of God shining inward into our souls-- which took account of how sometimes becoming more enlightened can be a painful experience, when it involves becoming aware of parts of ourselves we should change. How many of us have struggled, and taken good refuge in the Comforter we found shining inside?
Poem for John Banks of 1654, from 2008
there’s something you have to know first
huddled on the bed (usually)
or on the dorm room floor,
or the dark library stacks,
or my armchair,
shaking.
That fear, unseen, no reason, no warning,
and sometimes the knowing it was coming was the worst part
because I was completely at the mercy of that overgripping passionate fear.
Twitches first, then shudders, now in a ball wrapped in covers, now flailing in the dark.
My friends whom I trusted told me the way out was through,
but I kept getting stuck.
Discovering over and over that my body existed, and the one feeling it was feeling was fear.
And what was it like for that Quaker, young man my age, in the dawn of his age?
When no one had invented all that -ology of psych.
That John Banks, he used the words of his age to describe....
“...and the same day at evening... I was smitten to the ground with the weight of God’s judgement for sin. ... Great was the warfare and combats that I had with the Enemy of my soul, who... did what in him lay, to betray me from the simplicity of the Truth, that was begotten in me, and to persuade me to despair... I had passed through great tribulation, in weeping and mourning in woods and solitary places, alone, where I had often desired to be.”
He quaked.
They were quakers!
It sounds to me like the same experience.
He wrestled with the Enemy. He found Truth begotten in him.
And if "sin" is condemning himself when he simply needed to unite Love and Truth....
and if I had to try so hard to remember to be gentle with myself.....
but away with these negotiations.
We look back at that age, and say they received spiritual gifts a hundredfold, an outpouring unstoppable of the water of life.
We think they had some secret.
Did we not both quake? Were we not both smitten to the ground, and despairing?
Do we not both have the same dawn to thank, the same grass and wind?
The same Spirit?
What does this mean for us?
(The quote by John Banks is found in Early Quaker Writings, edited by Hugh Barbour and Arthur O. Roberts, page 183, in selections from "The Journal of John Banks." See especially footnote 34: "Physical seizures of this kind were fairly common among early Friends, along with the more usual quaking.")
Liberal Friends (like me) find the Inner Light to be a useful and treasured name for a central experience. But early Friends had a really nuanced understanding of the Inner Light --the Inward Light, the Light of God shining inward into our souls-- which took account of how sometimes becoming more enlightened can be a painful experience, when it involves becoming aware of parts of ourselves we should change. How many of us have struggled, and taken good refuge in the Comforter we found shining inside?
Poem for John Banks of 1654, from 2008
there’s something you have to know first
huddled on the bed (usually)
or on the dorm room floor,
or the dark library stacks,
or my armchair,
shaking.
That fear, unseen, no reason, no warning,
and sometimes the knowing it was coming was the worst part
because I was completely at the mercy of that overgripping passionate fear.
Twitches first, then shudders, now in a ball wrapped in covers, now flailing in the dark.
My friends whom I trusted told me the way out was through,
but I kept getting stuck.
Discovering over and over that my body existed, and the one feeling it was feeling was fear.
And what was it like for that Quaker, young man my age, in the dawn of his age?
When no one had invented all that -ology of psych.
That John Banks, he used the words of his age to describe....
“...and the same day at evening... I was smitten to the ground with the weight of God’s judgement for sin. ... Great was the warfare and combats that I had with the Enemy of my soul, who... did what in him lay, to betray me from the simplicity of the Truth, that was begotten in me, and to persuade me to despair... I had passed through great tribulation, in weeping and mourning in woods and solitary places, alone, where I had often desired to be.”
He quaked.
They were quakers!
It sounds to me like the same experience.
He wrestled with the Enemy. He found Truth begotten in him.
And if "sin" is condemning himself when he simply needed to unite Love and Truth....
and if I had to try so hard to remember to be gentle with myself.....
but away with these negotiations.
We look back at that age, and say they received spiritual gifts a hundredfold, an outpouring unstoppable of the water of life.
We think they had some secret.
Did we not both quake? Were we not both smitten to the ground, and despairing?
Do we not both have the same dawn to thank, the same grass and wind?
The same Spirit?
What does this mean for us?
(The quote by John Banks is found in Early Quaker Writings, edited by Hugh Barbour and Arthur O. Roberts, page 183, in selections from "The Journal of John Banks." See especially footnote 34: "Physical seizures of this kind were fairly common among early Friends, along with the more usual quaking.")
8/10/2007
Visiting cheerfully over the earth...
Two weeks ago I did indeed travel to Indiana Yearly Meeting, got my letter of introduction endorsed by the Recording Clerk (none other than Tom Hamm, Quaker historian super-hero), visited cheerfully with sundry Friends at IYM's Quaker Haven Camp, and attended every worship session, every business session, and especially every meal!
Then I flew home to Rindge, and the next day hosted two Friends from Kenya in their stop at the school (as they traveled New England between the USFW Triennial and NEYM sessions). Four days later, after doing some actual work on school administration, I left for New England Yearly Meeting.
At NEYM I wore a sticker on my shirt saying "Ask me about Indiana Yearly Meeting" and many friends (and acquaintances, and strangers sitting with me at meals) obliged. And what did I say?
Everyone at IYM was kind and welcoming to me. I felt very included, and I learned a lot. Of course, I knew that most of the worship would be programmed. But they also had an hour of fully unprogrammed worship every day, first thing in the morning. And each programmed service had some open periods of silence when anyone could speak. I've been to programmed worship services before, with Catholics, Methodists, Congregationalists (UCC), and Unitarian-Universalists, but never before with Friends (except once at Pendle Hill!). I will say that the style was more evangelical than I expected -- oriented toward praise hymns and stories of conversion. And I didn't agree with the theology of every message. But that's okay. And I wept for joy during some other parts of the services. The Holy Spirit blessed us, I would say, several times, and not only during the "services of praise and worship" but with spontaneous prayer and song during business sessions! I have been present for such during NEYM business sessions, and I was privileged to be present when IYM found similar centered-ness.
Friend, hast thee read Samuel Bownas' A Description of the Qualifications Necessary to a Gospel Minister? Okay, okay, I've come clean now: see, I was emulating someone I admired from 250 years ago. I'm a history teacher, go figure. Or maybe --maybe the same spiritual stream runs through the Society from then to now. Anyway, I brought the book with me and read over his advice for how I should act. Some of it was surprisingly applicable. And I wondered whether some events during my journey were signs of way opening: after I missed my early-morning flight (my fault!) the attendant at the ticket counter found me an option that hadn't been available on the Internet (way opening?). I found IYM's Quaker Haven Camp driving from Detroit with no directions. (Now that's guidance...) On my way home, the attendant at a different ticket counter told me that my ticket was technically invalid and he could have charged me $900 for a new ticket, but that he'd let me through anyway (way opening?). In truth, one has to be super-careful in ascribing events to Providence (no, not Rhode Island), since it could lead one out of humility --but it's fun to speculate; and just maybe... I was grateful, too, that while no traveling companion had appeared for me, I was assigned lodging with another traveling Friend from Baltimore YM, which gave me some of the debriefing, support, and daily clearness that a traveling companion traditionally offers.
Back at New England Yearly Meeting, I found myself using explicitly-Christian language much more than I normally do. (Or, as they might say in IYM, "witnessing to Christ.") It felt a bit funny, because I usually use much more metaphorical language. But perhaps we were all prepared for that by our Bible Half-Hour speaker, Benigno Sanchez-Eppler, who spoke movingly about the translation we need to do when speaking and hearing about the Friend of Friends. In any case, I quoted the Bible in my worship-sharing group -twice!- and attended a workshop on missionaries hosted by Eden and Jim Grace (they're awesome!). It felt very natural among my NEYM friends, who know how liberal I am. And it felt natural to be at IYM, gratefully listening. Here on the Internet, trying to explain it to unknown readers with unknown commitments, it's so much harder. But my thoughts about inclusivity, universalism, and the "Christian" label, will have to wait for another post.
Then I flew home to Rindge, and the next day hosted two Friends from Kenya in their stop at the school (as they traveled New England between the USFW Triennial and NEYM sessions). Four days later, after doing some actual work on school administration, I left for New England Yearly Meeting.
At NEYM I wore a sticker on my shirt saying "Ask me about Indiana Yearly Meeting" and many friends (and acquaintances, and strangers sitting with me at meals) obliged. And what did I say?
Everyone at IYM was kind and welcoming to me. I felt very included, and I learned a lot. Of course, I knew that most of the worship would be programmed. But they also had an hour of fully unprogrammed worship every day, first thing in the morning. And each programmed service had some open periods of silence when anyone could speak. I've been to programmed worship services before, with Catholics, Methodists, Congregationalists (UCC), and Unitarian-Universalists, but never before with Friends (except once at Pendle Hill!). I will say that the style was more evangelical than I expected -- oriented toward praise hymns and stories of conversion. And I didn't agree with the theology of every message. But that's okay. And I wept for joy during some other parts of the services. The Holy Spirit blessed us, I would say, several times, and not only during the "services of praise and worship" but with spontaneous prayer and song during business sessions! I have been present for such during NEYM business sessions, and I was privileged to be present when IYM found similar centered-ness.
Friend, hast thee read Samuel Bownas' A Description of the Qualifications Necessary to a Gospel Minister? Okay, okay, I've come clean now: see, I was emulating someone I admired from 250 years ago. I'm a history teacher, go figure. Or maybe --maybe the same spiritual stream runs through the Society from then to now. Anyway, I brought the book with me and read over his advice for how I should act. Some of it was surprisingly applicable. And I wondered whether some events during my journey were signs of way opening: after I missed my early-morning flight (my fault!) the attendant at the ticket counter found me an option that hadn't been available on the Internet (way opening?). I found IYM's Quaker Haven Camp driving from Detroit with no directions. (Now that's guidance...) On my way home, the attendant at a different ticket counter told me that my ticket was technically invalid and he could have charged me $900 for a new ticket, but that he'd let me through anyway (way opening?). In truth, one has to be super-careful in ascribing events to Providence (no, not Rhode Island), since it could lead one out of humility --but it's fun to speculate; and just maybe... I was grateful, too, that while no traveling companion had appeared for me, I was assigned lodging with another traveling Friend from Baltimore YM, which gave me some of the debriefing, support, and daily clearness that a traveling companion traditionally offers.
Back at New England Yearly Meeting, I found myself using explicitly-Christian language much more than I normally do. (Or, as they might say in IYM, "witnessing to Christ.") It felt a bit funny, because I usually use much more metaphorical language. But perhaps we were all prepared for that by our Bible Half-Hour speaker, Benigno Sanchez-Eppler, who spoke movingly about the translation we need to do when speaking and hearing about the Friend of Friends. In any case, I quoted the Bible in my worship-sharing group -twice!- and attended a workshop on missionaries hosted by Eden and Jim Grace (they're awesome!). It felt very natural among my NEYM friends, who know how liberal I am. And it felt natural to be at IYM, gratefully listening. Here on the Internet, trying to explain it to unknown readers with unknown commitments, it's so much harder. But my thoughts about inclusivity, universalism, and the "Christian" label, will have to wait for another post.
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