build trust Posts

Warning: this is a blog post about blogging.

A few weeks ago a newsletter brought written reports about the latest round of conflict at a local meeting that's been fighting for the past 180 years or so. As my wife and I read through it we were a bit underwhelmed by the accounts of the newest conflict resolution attempts. The mediators seemed more worried about alienating a few long-term disruptive characters than about preserving the spiritual vitality of the meeting. It's a phenomena I've seen in a lot of Quaker meetings.

Call it the FDR Principle after Franklin D Roosevelt, who supposedly defended his support of one of Nicaragua's most brutal dictators by saying "Somoza may be a son of a bitch, but he's our son of a bitch." Even casual historians of Latin American history will know this only led to fifty years of wars with reverberations across the world with the Iran/Contra scandal. The FDR Principle didn't make for good U.S. foreign policy and, if I may, I'd suggest it doesn't make for good Quaker policy either. Any discussion board moderator or popular blogger knows that to keep an online discussion's integrity you need to know when to cut a disruptive trouble-maker off--politely and succintly, but also firmly. If you don't, the people there to actually discuss your issues--the people you want--will leave.

I didn't know how to talk about this until a post called Conflict in Meeting came through Livejournal this past First Day. The poster, jandrewm, wrote in part:

Yet my recognition of all that doesn't negate the painful feelings that arise when hostility enters the meeting room, when long-held grudges boil over and harsh words are spoken.  After a few months of regular attendance at my meeting, I came close to abandoning this "experiment" with Quakerism because some Friends were so consistently rancorous, divisive, disruptive.  I had to ask myself: "Do I need this negativity in my life right now?"

I commented about the need to take the testimonies seriously:

I've been in that situation. A lot of Friends aren't very good at putting their foot down on flagrantly disruptive behavior. I wish I could buy the "it eventually sorts out" argument but it often doesn't. I've seen meetings where all the sane people are driven out, leaving the disruptive folks and armchair therapists. It's a symbiotic relationship, perhaps, but doesn't make for a healthy spiritual community.

The unpopular solution is for us to take our testimonies seriously. And I mean those more specific testimonies buried deep in copies in Faith & Practice that act as a kind of collective wisdom for Quaker community life. Testimonies against detraction and for rightly ordered decision making, etc. If someone's actions tear apart the meeting they should be counseled; if they continue to disrupt then their decision-making input should be disregarded. This is the real effect of the old much-maligned Quaker process of disowning (which allowed continued attendance at worship and life in the community but stopped business participation). Limiting input like this makes sense to me.

The trouble that if your meeting is in this kind of spiral there might not be much you can do by yourself. People take some sort of weird comfort in these predictable fights and if you start talking testimonies you might become very unpopular very quickly. Participating in the bickering isn't helpful (of course) and just eats away your own self. Distancing yourself for a time might be helpful. Getting involved in other Quaker venues. It's a shame. Monthly meeting is supposed to be the center of our Quaker spiritual life. But sometimes it can't be. I try to draw lessons from these circumstances. I certainly understand the value and need for the Quaker testimonies better simply because I've seen the problems meetings face when they haven't. But that doesn't make it any easier for you.

But all of this begs an awkward question: are we really building Christ's kingdom by dropping out? It's an age-old tension between purity and participation at all costs. Timothy asked a similar question of me in a comment to my last post. Before we answer, we should recognize that there are indeed many people who have "abandoned" their "Quaker experiment" because we're not living up to our own ideals.

Maybe I'm more aware of this drop-out class than others. It sometimes seems like an email correspondence with the "Quaker Ranter" has become the last step on the way out the door. But I also get messages from seekers newly convinced of Quaker principles but unable to connect locally because of the divergent practices or juvenile behavior of their local Friends meeting or church. A typical email last week asked me why the plain Quakers weren't evangelical and why evangelical Quakers weren't conservative and asked "Is there a place in the quakers for a Plain Dressing, Bible Thumping, Gospel Preaching, Evangelical, Conservative, Spirit Led, Charismatic family?" (Anyone want to suggest their local meeting?)

We should be more worried about the people of integrity we're losing than about the grumpy trouble-makers embedded in some of our meetings. If someone is consistently disruptive, is clearly breaking specific Quaker testimonies we've lumped under community and intergrity, and stubbornly immune to any council then read them out of business meeting. If the people you want in your meeting are leaving because of the people you really don't want, then it's time to do something. Our Quaker toolbox provides us tool for that action--ways to define, name and address the issues. Our tradition gives us access to hundreds of years of experience, both mistakes and successes, and can be a more useful guide than contemporary pop psychology or plain old head-burying.

Not all meetings have these problems. But enough do that we're losing people. And the dynamics get more acute when there's a visionary project on the table and/or someone younger is at the center of them. While our meetings sort out their issues, the internet is providing one type of support lifeline.

Blogger jandrewm was able to seek advice and consolation on Livejournal. Some of the folks I spoke about in the 2003 "Lost Quaker Generation" series of posts are now lurking away on my Facebook friends list. Maybe we can stop the full departure of some of these Friends. They can drop back but still be involved, still engaging their local meeting. They can be reading and discussing testimonies ("detraction" is a wonderful place to start) so they can spot and explain behavior. We can use the web to coordinate workshops, online discussions, local meet-ups, new workship groups, etc., but even email from a Friend thousands of miles away can help give us clarity and strength.

I think (I hope) we're helping to forge a group of Friends with a clear understanding of the work to be done and the techniques of Quaker discernment. It's no wonder that Quaker bodies sometimes fail to live up to their ideals: the journals of  olde tyme Quaker ministers are full of disappointing stories and Christian tradition is rich with tales of the roadblocks the Tempter puts up in our path. How can we learn to  center in the Lord when our meetings become too political or disfunctional (I think I should start looking harder at Anabaptist non-resistance theory). This is the work, Friends, and it's always been the work. Through whatever comes we need to trust that any testing and heartbreak has a purpose, that the Lord is using us through all, and that any suffering will be productive to His purpose if we can keep low and listening for follow-up instructions.

Interesting reading today about how our Quaker structures can choke the Spirit and hem in our communities. Johan M is no stranger to Quaker institutions, but in "Clerk Please" he writes:

But who will see and proclaim these things to new audiences if we are so busy trying to sort out our structures, nomination processes, and interpersonal animosities that we don't take the time to discern and honor leadings?

Susanne K echos some of these themes in her latest post, "Quakerism and Structure":

One of the key parts of George Fox's revelation was that religious structures can kill the free movement of the Spirit... My Ffriend R has advocated the practice of disbanding the Religious Society of Friends every 50 years. He believes that the spark of the initial vision and passion of religious groups only survives for about 50 years before developing structures start to choke the movement of the Spirit.

It's been about eighteen months since I was sidelined from the professional Quaker world (I work for some Quakers now, but on a contract basis and the relationship is much different). A year or two before this, my monthly meeting melted down and more or less devolved into a worship group and while I've found a more active meeting to attend, it's not particularly close and I haven't joined.

The result of these two changes is that I haven't sat in a staff meeting for over a year; I don't attend business meetings; I don't belong to any committees; I don't represent any group at conferences. After years of being what Evan Welkin called an uberQuaker, I'm an uninvolved slacker. Bad Martin, right?

Except I'm not uninvolved of course. I feel I'm doing as much now to help people find and grow into Quakerism than I did when I was paid to do this. I don't spend much time with that 2% skim of Quaker elite who attend all the same conferences and appoint each other to all the same committees, but then catering to their needs was pretty high maintenance and was never something I thought of as the real mission.

Suzanne talks about the "Sabbatical Year" meme, and of course lots of electrons fly about the blogosphere about the possibilities of the Emerging Church movement. There's a hunger for a different way of being a Friend. I know one Quaker who threatens to burn down the famous meetinghouse he worships in because he feels that the building has become an empty icon, a weight of bricks upon the Spirit (I'll leave him anonymous in case something mysterious happens to the meetinghouse tonight!). How tragic would it be, really, if some of institutional baggage was laid down and we had to find other ways to confirm and support one another's ministries?

I love teaching Quakerism, I love helping Quakers use the internet for outreach and I love reaching out to potential Friends with my writing. I'm doing all that without committees or staff meetings. No budgets to fight over, no mission statements to write.

Half a decade ago now I wrote about the "lost Quaker generation," active and visionary Gen X Friends who seemed to be dropping out in droves. We're all keeping in better touch now via Facebook but I haven't noticed much jumping back into the fray. What I have noticed is a phenomenon where Friends half a generation older are taking on Quaker responsibilities only to drop away from active meeting involvement when their terms ended. 

If we could pull together all of the dropouts together and start meetings that focused on worship, religious education and deep-community activities, I think we'd see something interesting. I envy those with less-musty, Gen-X heavy meetings nearby (Robin M showcased her meeting recently). And don't get me wrong: I also love the old Quaker ideal of the strong local Quaker community and the bonds of the community on the individual, etc., etc. But I don't see meetings like that anywhere nearby and the only clear leading I really have is to continue this "freelance" teaching, writing and organizing. It's not the situation I want but it's the situation I have and at this point I have to just trust the leadings as they come step by step and have faith they're going somewhere. Boy though, I wish I knew where all this was heading sometimes!

Strangely enough, the Philadelphia Inquirer has published a front-page article on leadership in Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, Friends frustrate some of their flock, Quakers bogged down by process, two leaders say. To me it comes off as an extended whine from the former PhYM General Secretary Thomas Jeavons. His critiques around Philadelphia Quaker culture are well-made (and well known among those who have seen his much-forwarded emails) but he doesn't seem as insightful about his own failings as a leader, primarily his inability to forge consensus and build trust. He frequently came off as too ready to bypass rightly-ordered decision-making processes in the name of strong leadership. The more this happened, the more distrust the body felt toward him and the more intractible and politicized the situation became. He was the wrong leader for the wrong time. How is this worthy of the front-page newspaper status?

By James Riemermann

Here's a thought-provoking comment that James left a few days ago on the We're All Ranters Now piece. It's an important testimony and a good challenge. I'm stumped trying to answer it upon first reading, which means it's definitely worth featuring!

When you’ve acknowledge the Power, what does faith become? It becomes a testimony to the world. The Quaker way breaks through both the religious and activist narrow-mindedness of our day. We’re not talking about faith without action and we’re not talking about action without faith. Either one without the other is sacrilege. Combine the two and you have something real, something powerful.

Colleen Carroll's book The New Faithful is an attempt to examine the religious phenomenon of Christian theological "orthodoxy" among current twenty and thirty-somethings. We purchased this book out of a sense of longing to hear the stories of fellow young Christians sympathetic to the issues we face. We opened The New Faithful eager to hear the voice of someone in our age bracket crying from the rooftops. But her book is hardly unproblematic: she weakened the book when she decided to make it a Republican-Party calling card...

Now reading with Julie. The author is Colleen Carroll, a journalist in her late twenties. Another "Emergent Church" book, it focuses on Catholic renewal. Discovered via Orthodox Twenty-Somethings, a review in TheOoze.

Review/Thoughts By Julie & Martin

Colleen Carroll's book The New Faithful is an attempt to examine the religious phenomenon of Christian theological "orthodoxy" among current twenty and thirty-somethings. Her goal is to consider two groups: the young evangelical Protestant and Roman Catholic devout. Considering that this demographic is virtually invisible to the religious and social establishments dominated predominantly by white, upper middle class/upper class Baby Boomers, Carroll's book represents a welcome and refreshing endeavor.

We purchased this book because we longing to hear stories of fellow young Christians sympathetic to the issues we face as two theologically conservative, post-liberal twenty/thirty-somethings. In an age dedicated to progress, openness, post-modernism, subjectivism, and, of course, metaphor, we're often written off as reactionaries, as if simply believing something too much is a form of violence or bigotry. We find we often have a lot more in common with those of other faiths who also take care to root themselves in their tradition.

We opened The New Faithful eager to hear the voice of someone in our age bracket crying from the rooftops, "There IS objective truth, and there are young people who believe his name is Jesus!" In this sense, Carroll's book has served as a reassurance that this demographic does, in fact, exist. But her book is hardly unproblematic.

The book started off great: Carroll's writing style not only held our attention but was also insightful. We identified with much of what she was relating. So much so, in fact, that we found ourselves underling paragraph after paragraph:

These young adults are not perpetual seekers. They are committed to a religious world view that grounds their lives and shapes their morality. They are not lukewarm believers or passionate dissenters. When they are embracing a faith tradition or deepening their commitment to it, they want to do so wholeheartedly or not at all. When they are attracted to tradition in worship or in spirituality, they want to understand the underlying reality of that tradition and use it to transform their lives. That sense of commitment and total acceptance of orthodoxy sets them apart from many of their peers and fellow believers who share their affection for the trappings of religious tradition but reject its theological and moral roots. p. 11

Not far into the book, however, an annoying tendency soon became manifest. It appeared as if Carroll has a rule of not talking to anyone who isn�t an Ivy League graduate with Tom Cruise looks and a stock broker past. A remarkable number of interviewees were described as having movie star features. They were from elite colleges. They were the trend-setters of the future.

At the first repetition of this formula, we thought she had probably written the book too fast and gotten careless with a repeated assertion. At the second repetition we grumbled that she needed a good copyeditor. By the third time, we concluded she just had major class insecurities and needed to spend a little one-on-one time with therapist.

Finally, we began to suspect something else was at work. Many of these interviewees worked, lived, and worshipped in the Washinton DC area. Carroll's focus on the uniqueness of her subjects as persons with innate leadership potential began to feel more and more like a promotion for a Future Leaders of America banquet. As we read on, it became more than obvious that she was writing this book for a particular audience. What we originally took to be sloppy journalism appeared more and more to be political talking-points. The first rule of interviews is to repeat the same points over and over so that the journalists will transmit the message you want. Why was a professional journalist writing on Gen-X relgious movements sounding so much like a politician?

Halfway through the book we finally decided to google "Colleen Carroll," found her website and learned that our suspicions were confirmed. After the book came out she was invited to a number of speaking engagements sponsored by conservative Repubican Party politicians. She was well-received and before long got one of the most coveted jobs a twenty-something reporter could hope for: speechwriter to the President himself, George W. Bush.

A certain amount of congratulations are in order: this is quite a feather-in-the-cap for an ambitious journalist. Unfortunately though, she weakened the book when she decided to make it a Republican-Party calling card. More than that, the book itself is a compromise. Carroll cannot be trusted because her scholarship is not real. She not only began with a premise and sought out to prove it; she intentionally rejected any phenomena that failed to serve her agenda.

While the book brilliantly critiques Baby Boomer liberals, it gives Boomer conservatives a free pass. There's nothing in this book that would upset a politically powerful, middle-aged conservative like Attorney General John Ashcroft. Just the opposite: this is a cooing love song promising that his spiritual and political offspring are resurging: good-looking, trend-setting, righteous conservatives are taking back the college campuses from the peace and justice Catholics at the Newman Center. Nor does the book take on the incestuous amplification and group-think inherent in many religious institutions. Sadly, Carroll steers clear of any issue that might divide the old conservatives from the new ones.

The book could have been more. When Carroll writes about the problems of Baby Boomer liberal othodoxy in contemporary religious life, she's fantastic. She has good observations and writes with wit and humor. As we're both politically liberal (or perhaps more accurately, post-liberal), we enjoyed this tremendously and would love to recommend this as a book that attempts to correct what we see as the over-reach and thoughtlessness that's overcome religious liberalism in the past few generations. But this audience would most likely see the uncritical conservative political agenda and dismiss Carroll's entire thesis. (Julie would actually still recommend the book, with the caveats she lists at the end of this review.)

It's instructive to compare this book to Robert Webber's The Younger Evangelicals (see my bookstore review here) which contrasts the three twentieth-century generations, showing that the new conservatism is often a knowing and sophisticated reappropriation of religious practices or attitudes that have been lost or de-emphasized. Webber's twenty-somethings don't fit neatly into old left/right, conservative/liberal political stereotypes, but instead bring a new perspectives on faithfulness, issue advocacy and self-identity.

How we longed to see Carroll turn her observant gaze on examples that flew in the face of picture-perfect, white, upper-middle class, Christian traditionalists. The voice of a sincere, devout gay Catholic who was traditionalist in everything but his sexual orientation, for example. Or some D.C.-area activist who took his cue from Pope John Paul II and was outspokenly anti-war and critical of Presidential appeals to Christians to support the Iraq War. Or someone who worked on the street to build ties of understandings between Christians and Muslims as a way to defuse the "War on Terror" rhetoric. We could list dozens of examples like these, of individuals who are theologically conservative, but not necessarily politically conservative. It is apparent to us, as witnesses to this on a daily basis, that all too often theological liberals feel that they must also be politically liberal, and vice versa. This is not always the case. This is a major issue for many young Christians, and a divisive issue generationally. But Carroll wouldn't touch this with a ten-foot pole--it's simply too controversial. And besides, it would be too messy, it would spoil her neat and tidy thesis.

We're still only two-thirds of the way through the book. We've read reviews that it picks up again later. She's on EWTN tonight (March 11) & we're really looking forward to seeing it. Despite our reservations, we really like a lot of what she's saying. It's just that we wish she had said so much more. She tries so hard not to alienate politicaly-conservative Boomers that she backs off a lot of important issues just as she's about to say something interesting. It's fine if she's a Republican, but why does she consistently insist that the conservative religious orthodoxy has to line up so perfectly with the conservative political powers that be?

More to come as we continue reading the book....

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Note: Julie would recommend the book, but with serious reservations. Her reason: There are NO other books that she considers worthwhile out there that are attempting to describe this phenomena. Her reservations: 1. Carroll's scholarship is awful. No, it's actually painful it's so bad. She doesn't even quote studies themselves. She was obviously too lazy to read the actual studies so instead read, for example, Time Magazine's synopsis of a study and so instead quoted that. She also quotes highly questionable sources. Also, her sample is not at all adequate. This leads to point #2: Carroll seems to have race and class issues and they stick out like a sore thumb in the book. It would've been cool to hear from a few African-American Catholics and the struggles they face in the Church, for example. And hey, what about some homely people too?! Not all of us Catholic traditionalists look like fashion models. And 3. Carroll, in my humble opinion, compromised the very endeavor she undertook because, while The New Faithful is really an extended opinion piece, she tried to make it look as if it was academically responsible (or at least quasi-scholarly), and it is not. The point: take The New Faithful with a grain of salt. Realize that yes, likely the phenomenon of Christian orthodoxy among the young is probably legitimate, but that her picture of it is not. She makes good points, it is an interesting read, and it may be foundational for future writers on this topic. For that, Julie would like to thank Colleen Carroll for being so perceptive and for taking the time to write the book.