Quaker Studies has a special issue out on John Woolman. I’ve written about this well-known Friend, many times, naturally, including a three part series back in 2006, but it’s great to have academics share the latest takes. As guest editor Jon Kershner writes in his introduction, “The fresh ground cultivated by these authors demonstrates that there is much still to say about Woolman.” Best of all, this is open access! I think it’s really tragic that so much good academic writing today is completely inaccessible and I’m not sure why, as I don’t think the authors are getting much of the money. I hope new academic publishing models start to win out, as it’s important for lay Friends to think about history in a more thoughtful way. I’m a big stan, as the kids say, of Jean Soderlund, and am devouring her contribution to this special edition.
I looovvee Goldie’s, the Philly Israeli-American vegan falafel mini-chain, so I’m not just appalled but personally upset that some pro-Palestinian protesters accused its owners of genocide. Once again people: it is possible to be against violence on all sides and also to not scapegoat any side. It sounds like owner Michael Solomonov’s response has been muted and understanding: good for him. I do hope this dies down. Protesters on all sides say stupid things in the heat of the moment and it sounds like they were there for less than four minutes. Can we move on?
Windy Cooler has a new article on the Friends General Conference website, What is a Quaker Public Minister? Windy’s been researching the concept of public Friends this year, interviewing people about their understanding and experiences.
The startling lack of support for many public ministers as agents of creativity and growth is partly because many Friends are unfamiliar with the term “public minister” and uncertain how to support their work. Additionally, a misinterpretation of the testimony of equality, which often leads comfort-seeking elders to criticize or “cut down” those who stand out among us (referred to as the “tall poppies” by Marty Grundy in her 1999 Pendle Hill pamphlet of the same name), causes many Friends attempting public ministry to encounter hostility or apathy in their local meetings. Even in cases where a faith and practice document outlines the practice, it remains largely taboo in liberal Quakerism to seek a minute acknowledging the gifts of ministry, much less more substantial support.
Windy interviewed me as part of her research. If “public Friend” means someone who is visibly taking on a teaching role for Friends, then I’ve been one since my mid-20s when I started putting together mailing lists and websites organizing young adult Friends (YAFs in Quaker speak); this eventually branched out into blogging, hosting a social network, leading workshops, and giving talks now and then. The longetivity gives it a certain authority, I suppose, as have my professional roles with Quaker organizations (though of course on my blog I’m only speaking for myself).
But this belies just how independent, dare I say ranterish, this process has been. I know how public ministry should work, but it hasn’t ever worked out that way for me. Even now, I don’t have a special designation or support for my volunteer Quaker work.
I should note that I once had a brush with institutional legitimacy. When I applied for a grant from the Clarence and Lilly Pickett Endowment for Quaker Leadership, they required a support letter from my meeting and Atlantic City Area Meeting provided me with one. It wasn’t a recording minute, per se, and didn’t come with any followup support but it was something. The Pickett fund specifically supported younger Friends. It’s a small world so I know a lot of other recipients and many had interesting stories about going their meetings for support letters. In retrospect, forcing a generation of twenty-something active Quakers to get these letters might have been the Pickett fund’s most important legacy (it closed down in 2019).
Full disclosure and mea culpa to say that I’ve never asked for formal meeting support. I have a tendency to land at small, minimally organized meetings that don’t have any experiences of supporting ministries. It always felt like it’d be too much of a push to ask an overburdened small group to take on one more responsibility.
I know some larger Quaker meetings have more formal support structures in place, with clearness and support (sometimes now called anchor) committees supporting their public Friends. I’m a bit jealous but also have been told by Friends in these positions that they sometimes still feel somewhat rogueish and alone. Of course maybe this is just how it is. Did people like John Woolman and Joshua Evans really feel fully supported by their meetings as they traveled about? And did they have now-forgotten contemporaries who felt the “tall poppies” effect and elected to stay home? Benjamin Lay comes to mind as someone who had to minister without support. Windy writes:
While it’s true that many of our famous historic public ministers were disliked in their time and praised in ours as if they represent our own actions, it is inconceivable that these leaders could have traveled, spoken, and effected change in their quest for right relationship without robust support. It is something of a miracle then that so many dynamic Friends today are attempting to do just that out of love for who we are and can be and we are treading water with all the faith in the world that the undertow of the status quo will not overcome us.
FGC promises this to be the “first of four short essays in a series on public ministry in the liberal tradition.” Glad to see FGC exploring this work. In the early 2000s they did important work with the Traveling Ministries Committee1, which did a lot to re-legitimate the idea of ministry among Liberal Friends. Windy also gives a shout-out to the he Quaker Leadership Center, which I know is doing good work around these questions too.
Johan Maurer on retiring from the news cycle: “There is something in me that resists the idea of unplugging, as if I am somehow letting humanity down if I give up, for a time, my obsessive attention to the deeds and misdeeds of the Powers That Be. How much worse off everyone would be if I withheld my awesome influence for good!”
Matt Rosen on traveling in the ministry in Britain. “Since Friends rarely travel in the ministry in Britain, part of the ministry has to be explaining this practice. That’s a joy for me, because I believe that the travelling ministry is a vital witness to our connectedness as a yearly meeting and a live option in the twenty-first century.” Matt also has an article on gospel order in this week’s The Friend.
Brent Bill’s fiction is featured this week over at Friends Journal. A Trip to Amity revolves around a grumpy minister whose surprise comeuppance features a lesson in forgiveness and the power of laughter. Brent and I talked about the story, the first in his new collection, “Amity: Stories from the Heartland,” in this week’s FJ Author Chat. You can buy the book at Quakerbooks of FGC or from Brent’s own website.
Cropwell meeting’s clerk decided to step down this month (he’s turning 88 and thought it a good time!). We had a nice celebration for him on Sunday. A few years ago the meeting had dwindled down to two regular members; on some Sundays, only one of them would show. He assembled a group to help bring it back from the brink of being laid down with a sucessful open house in 2021 and since then we’ve had six new members join.
We had a whole process planned to select a new clerk but it turned out that I was the only one who said I’d consider the role (maybe not so uncommon a phenomenon in small meetings?). I’ve joked that I’ll have it back down to two members by the end of next year, but in all seriousness I’m hoping we’re blessed with keeping the momentum going.
The November Quakers Today podcast dropped this week, asking How do you process memories, experiences and feelings? It includes interviews with Rashid Darden and Vicki Winslow and looks at the Quaker influences of Virginia Woolf.
I must admit I’m a sucker for a certain kind of Quaker story in which a Friend faithfully follows mysterious promptings that turn out to be life-changing. It might have been an old Bill Taber book where I read about the Quaker minister who one day shouted to stop the carriage while passing a random house because she knew—knew!— that its inhabitants needed spiritual help (reader, they did!). I guess it’s not unlike the uncanny experience of being about to rise to give ministry when the person next to you stands and gives the same message you were about to deliver—whoa! The hair on the back of my neck always stands up to these stories.
This week I was reading the stories of Paul S. Lippencott, Jr., a recorded minister of my own Cropwell Meeting who lived from 1882 to 1968. I’m trying to understand the character of the meeting, and our outgoing clerk has told stories of being a kid and listening to Paul’s sermons back in the 1960s. Someone had gotten an early tape recorder to collect Paul’s tales and published the somewhat rambling account as Answered Prayers, a book I found at Vintage Quaker Books.
The best story is the lead one. As a young man of around 30, Paul was retired in bed reading religious books when he felt a prompt (queue etherial music). “After a short period of prayer it became very clear to me that I should go out and gear up the horse.” Prompts came to him one after another: drive west down the road a couple of miles to the next town, and then: buy non-perishable groceries at the store that was still open. All this was done in faith: “Until that time I had no idea where I was going to take this food,” he writes. Then a final prompt as he remembered “an old colored lady named Margaret Worthington” who “lived in a cabin by herself” a half-mile away. He had never met her but felt led to visit on that dark night. “I pulled up at the little one room cabin where there was a light through the window, and as I went to the door, I heard her voice praying for help and food. I was there under unusual circumstances to answer the fervent prayers of a believing soul.”
Yowsa!
If you want the whole story of the mysterious food run, it’s on the Cropwell website accompanying a talk on the long and entwined relationships between the meeting and local Black families. “Aunt Margaret” had a special talent for having her prayers answered and Paul’s book has more stories about her.
Paul tells other stories about following mysterious prompts. In one, he feels led to take a longer route back to his office after lunch. It’s the Depression and on this different path he runs into an old acquaintance, now out of work and “in very trying condition.” He’s feeling broken and finally admits to Paul that he’s considering taking his own life. They pray together and hope is restored. As Paul writes “There was some reason for me to make that short detour, even on a morning when I was pressed for time. I am thankful that the Lord helped me to be able and alert to listen to that Still, Small Voice.”
This is of course an echo of the parable of the Good Samaratan. People of high standing walked by the injured traveler but it was the lowly Samaratan who listened and heard the prompt and the prayer, stopped their busy life, and aided the traveler. Jesus told the story to illustrate the query “who is my neighbor.” I’m not sure I have the best ear for these kinds of prayers hanging out there but I’d like to try to listen more.
If you’re in South Jersey or Philly and want to hear more Cropwell stories, you’re invited to visit this Sunday to honor our outgoing clerk, Earl Evens. A few years ago Cropwell was down to two attending members and close to being laid down when a small group led by Earl felt a prompt to try to rebuild the community. Earl’s stories of old Cropwell, the way he’s played host to the rebirthed community, and his gentle opinions on Quaker worship have helped set the spiritual DNA of our expanding group (five new members last year and another applied this week). I’m the incoming clerk and omg, these are quite the shoes to fill.