metaphor Posts

Over on Quaker Oats Live, Cherice is fired up about taxes again and proposing a peace witness for next year:

My solution: Quakers, Mennonites, Brethren, and whomever else wants to participate refuses to pay war taxes for a few years, and we suffer the consequences. I think we should campaign for a war-tax-free 2010 in all Quaker meetings and Mennonite/Brethren/etc. communities. What are they going to do--throw us all in jail? Maybe. But they can't do that forever. No one wants to pay their taxes for a bunch of Quakers and other pacifists to sit in jail for not paying taxes. It doesn't make sense.

A commenter chimes in with a warning about Friends who were hit by heavy tax penalties a quarter century ago. But I know of someone who didn't pay taxes for twenty years and recently volunteered the information to the Internal Revenue Service. The collectors were nonchalant, polite and sympathetic and settled for a very reasonable amount. If this friend's experience is any guide, there's not much drama to be had in war tax resistance. These days, Caesar doesn't care much.

What if our witness was directed not at the federal government but at our fellow Christians? We could follow Quaker founder George Fox's example and climb the tallest tree we could find (real or metaphorical) and begin preaching the good news that war goes against the teachings of Jesus. As always, we would be respectful and charitable but we could reclaim the strong and clear voices of those who have traveled before us. If we felt the need for backup? Well, I understand there are twenty-seven or so books to the New Testament sympathetic to our cause. And I have every reason to believe that the Inward Christ is still humming our tune and burning bushes for all who have eyes to see and ears to listen. Just as John Woolman ministered with his co-religionists about the sin of slavery, maybe our job is to minister to our co-religionists about war.

But who are these co-religionist neighbors of ours? Twenty years of peace organizing and Friends organizing makes me doubt we could find any large group of "historic peace church" members to join us. We talk big and write pretty epistles, but few individuals engage in witnesses that involve any danger of real sacrifice. The way most of our established bodies couldn't figure out how to respond to a modern day prophetic Christian witness in Tom Fox's kidnapping is the norm. When the IRS threatened to put liens on Philadelphia Yearly Meeting to force resistant staffers to pay, the general secretary and clerk said all sorts of sympathetic words of anguish (which they probably even meant), then docked the employee's pay anyway. There have been times when clear-eyed Christians didn't mind loosing their liberty or property in service to the gospel. Early Friends called our emulation of Christ's sacrifice the Lamb's War, but even seven years of real war in the ancient land of Babylonia itself hasn't brought back the old fire. Our meetinghouses sit quaint, with ownership deeds untouched, even as we wring our hands wondering why most remain half-empty on First Day morning.

But what about these emerging church kids?: all those people reading Shane Claiborne, moving to neighborhoods in need, organizing into small cells to talk late into the night about primitive Christianity? Some of them are actually putting down their candles and pretentious jargon long enough to read those twenty-seven books. Friends have a lot of accumulated wisdom about what it means the primitive Christian life, even if we're pretty rusty on its actual practice. What shape would that witness take and who would join us into that unknown but familiar desert? What would our movement even be called? And does it matter?

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Anyone interested in thinking more on this should start saving up their loose change ($200 commuters) to come join C Wess Daniels and me this November when we lead a workshop on "The New Monastics and Convergent Friends" at Pendle Hill near Philadelphia. Methinks I'm already starting to blog about it.

I've been busy with work lately and much of my free time has been spent helping Julie and the Savestmarys.net coalition. St. Mary's is one of about sixty South Jersey Catholic churches the bishop is trying to close down and replace with smily happy Megachurches. I'm still not going Catholic on you all, I just don't like short-sighted religious bureaucrats with secret agendas, and I like places and people and churches with roots and history.

On Tuesday night Bishop Galante and his posse came to visit St Mary's and were greeted by an overflow crowd. He came with charts and a game show host of a priest for MC who tried to start the meeting with a pasted-on smile and crowd-control speaking rules. The St Mary's parishioners were having none of it. There were over five hundred people in the pews asking why the Bishop wanted to shut down a church with sound finances, an impassioned priest, an involved laity and the wherewithal to continue another hundreds years.

"Vibrant" has become the Bishop's stock answer, his new favorite code word. Like a President backpedaling on the rationales of an unpopular war, his spokespeople have admitted under pressure of evidence and easy solutions that the closures aren't due to a priest shortage,  financial problems at the targeted churches, or the lack of lay participation and involvement. The only explanation the bishop can offer for closure is "vibrancy." But every time he tries to define "vibrant" he ends up describing St. Mary's and dozens of other local churches he wants to close.

There's obviously more to the definition than he'd like to share. One parishioner asked whether he thought a small church was even capable of displaying the "vibrancy" he demands. He refused to answer, which suggests we've finally dug down to a real answer. His fix for South Jersey is Megachurches that cop strategies from the Evangelical movement and consolidate power more closely in the diocesan offices. 

The bishop gave the church-saving movement its best metaphor when he disparaged the little churches he wants to shutter as "Wawa churches." Readers from outside the Mid-Atlantic region might know that Wawa is a local convenience store chain but that's like saying water is a common chemical compound. You can't drive more than twenty minutes without passing three Wawas. South Jersians practically live there. The bishop might was well condemn motherhood, baseball and apple pie if he's going to take on South Jersey's Wawa.

One disgruntled "Catholic in name only" campaign supporter rose to reclaim the Wawa label, saying that all these little churches were indeed like Wawa: ubiquitous, open at all hours, with good food that brought people in. The bishop obviously prefers the Walmart model: big box, big parking lot, hidden Eucharists, gameshow-host priests and clowns for music directors (seriously: check out this post of Julie's and scroll down to the Greatest American Hero dude). I'm not sure why someone who dislikes Catholic culture so much would want to become a priest and I'm really not sure why someone who dislikes South Jersey culture so much would agree to be its bishop. One blogger recently wrote "I have gone through enough mergers and consolidations to know one thing is true: reductions in manpower and assets are made for tighter control" which sounds like as good an explanation as any other I've heard. Power and money: same as it ever was.

I was following the kids around outside for much of what turned into a speak-out session but I got to see twenty seconds of my wife Julie's testimony on the Fox affiliate's 10 o'clock news. Julie had THAT LOOK when addressing the bishop. It's a look I know too well, it's a look that means "I'm right, I know it, and I'm not backing down." If I've learned anything over the course of the last seven years of marriage it's that I don't stand a chance when Julie gives me THAT LOOK: it's time to concede that yes she is right, because any other option will just prolong the pain and delay the inevitable. I saw hundreds of people giving the bishop that same look last night.

It's nice to see South Jersey standing up to an outsider who hates its culture and wants to force change for the sake of his own power and profit. We get a lot of it down here. The power guys usually end up winning: the woods get chainsawed and the farmlands buried under vast expanses of generic box stores and cookie-cutter McMansions financed by Philly money and greased by the pro-development laws of North Jersey politicians. I could be wrong, but after this week I don't think the bishop stands a chance. The question now is how long he's going to prolong his . And how many churches will he succeed in taking down in the name of "vibrance?"

• Max H with thesis that class assumptions led to 19th C. disownments
  "But an upper-class Quaker seeking to influence his daughter’s marriage choice would... always have an eye on whether the prospective husband would be earning his money or inheriting it...Hence the shrunken pool of candidates for each Friend."
  (tags: quaker quaker.culture quaker.class checkback)
• Richard M on the
  "To some extent every generation must invent a new language for talking about the spiritual... [I write so that] those who have had experiences like mine might (if I picked a good metaphor) say to themselves 'Yes, I've had that experience.'"
  (tags: quaker quaker.ministry)

Update from yesterday's post. The new FGC Quakeryouth site is now effusively thanking QuakerQuaker for development of the "quaker.youth" tag and for extensive use of content on the site that was compiled by yours truly.

For the record: everyone that wants to share QuakerQuaker material is warmly encouraged to do so. I really want this to be an open standard and a way for us to easily share content. But please do the courtesy of contacting me first and please make sure that every page that includes materials compiled by QuakerQuaker says so and has a link.

I'm archiving yesterday's post (those wondering what the fuss was about can read it here) but I'll copy a few paragraphs below since they talk about how Quaker institutions have been working cooperatively with QuakerQuaker. I'm happy to add FGC to the list.

QuakerQuaker co-editor C. Wess Daniels and I worked with the staff of Britain Yearly Meeting to cover May's annual sessions and support their official sessions blog (Wess himself wrote for it). BYM helped publicize the QuakerQuaker tagging system ("quaker.britain-ym" in that instance) and we re-wrote the system to pull in their blog.

I'm currently working closely with staff of Friends World Committee for Consultation to cover their upcoming Triennial in Dublin. This has included my programming a custom feed with javascript support so that they can pull the QuakerQuaker material into a special page on the FWCC site itself. I've done this publicity work for Britain Yearly Meeting and FWCC for free, in the interest of sharing Friends' good news with the world.

All this work is more than just whipping up a computer-generated feed. I have a sophisticated series of searches that allows me to scan the internet daily for Quaker posts and I watch what items are being added to the feed (by trouble-makers, spammers or automation) and take out inappropriate links.

If you think of the Quaker blogosphere as a garden, I'm nurturing new plants by finding new bloggers, encouraging them with links, attention and a lot of behind-the-scenes friendly emails. I'm also weeding out the latest spam attacks and bringing human intelligence to a semi-automated process so that the material is focused, relevant and interesting. Computers don't create communities: caring, thoughtful and selfless people do. And it's not just me, it's the half dozen QuakerQuaker co-editors and the extended family of Quaker bloggers who routinely gather together from our separate traditions to swap stories, visions and faith around the metaphorical campfire that is QuakerQuaker.

Someone who only knew Woolman from articles in popular Quaker periodicals might be forgiven for a moment of shock when opening his book. John Woolman is so much more religious than we usually acknowledge. We describe him as an activist even though he and his contemporaries clearly saw and named him a minister. There are many instances where he described the inhumanity of the slave trade and he clearly identified with the oppressed but he almost always did so with from a Biblical perspective. He acknowledged that religious faithfulness could exist outside his beloved Society of Friends but his life's work was calling Friends to live a profoundly Christian life. Flip to a random page of the journal and you'll probably count half a dozen metaphors for God. Yes, he was a social activist but he was also a deeply religious minister of the gospel.

So why do we wrap ourselves up in Woolman like he's the flag of proto-liberal Quakerism? In an culture where Quaker authority is deeply distrusted and appeals to the Bible or to Quaker history are routinely dismissed, he has become the last safe Friend to claim. His name is invoked as a sort of talisman against critique, as a rhetorical show-stopper. "If you don't agree with my take on the environment/tax resistance/universalism, you're the moral equivalent of Woolman's slave holders." (Before the emails start flooding in, remember I'm writing this as a dues-paying activist Quaker myself.) We don't need to agree with him to engage with him and learn from him. But we do need to be honest about what he believed and open to admitting when we disagree. We shouldn't use him simply as a stooge for our own agenda.

I like Woolman but I have my disagreements. His scrupulousness was over the top. My own personality tends toward a certain purity, exemplified by fifteen years of veganism, my plain dress, my being car-less into my late thirties. I've learned that I need to moderate this tendency. My purity can sometimes be a sign of an elitism that wants to separate myself from the world (I've learned to laugh at myself more). Asceticism can be a powerful spiritual lens but it can also burn a self- and world-hatred into us. I've had friends on the brink of suicide (literally) over this kind of scrupulousness. I worry when a new Friend finds my plain pages and is in broadfalls and bonnets a few weeks later, knowing from my own experience that the speed of their gusto sometimes rushes a discernment practice that needs to rest and settle before it is fully owned (the most personally challenging of the traditional tests of Quaker discernment is "patience").

John Woolman presents an awfully high bar for future generations. He reports refusing medicine when illness brought him to the brink of death, preferring to see fevers as signs of God's will. While that might have been the smarter course in an pre-hygienic era when doctors often did more harm than good, this Christian Scientist-like attitude is not one I can endorse. He sailed to England deep in the hold along with the cattle because he thought the woodwork unnecessarily pretty in the passenger cabins. While his famous wearing of un-dyed garments was rooted partly in the outrages of the manufacturing process, he talked much more eloquently about the inherent evil of wearing clothes that might hide stains, arguing that anyone who would try to hide stains on their clothes would be that much more likely to hide their internal spiritual stains (all I could think about when reading this was that he must have left child-rearing duties to the well-inclined Sarah).

Woolman proudly relates (in his famously humble style) how he once tried to shut down a traveling magic act that was scheduled to play at the local inn. I suspect that if any of us somehow found ourselves on his clearness committee we might find a way to tell him to... well, lighten up. I sympathize with his concerns against mindless entertainment but telling the good people of Mount Holly that they can't see a disappearing rabbit act because of his religious sensibilities is more Taliban than most of us would feel comfortable with.

He was a man of his times and that's okay. We can take him for what he is. We shouldn't dismiss any of his opinions too lightly for he really was a great religious and ethical figure. But we might think twice before enlisting the party pooper of Mount Holly for our cause.

Next time: The Myth of the Isolated Saint.

Reading John Woolman:

• Part One: The Public Life of a Private Man
• Part Two: "The Last Safe Quaker" (this page)
• Part Three: The Isolated Saint
• Part Four (forthcoming)

In early February I'm leading a young adult workshop up at New York Yearly Meeting's Powell House. I don't have any desire to get into the "spiritual workshop circuit," but I was asked and it seemed like an opportunity to gather some interesting folks to talk about what we hunger for. The workshop is called "Food for Fire: Breaking into the Power of Quakerism" (already regretting the "breaking in" metaphor--shouldn't it be "broken in by?").

I hope that some of the extended Quaker Ranter family will be able to make it out. This could be a kind of Mid-Atlantic/New England gathering of whatever this of informal movement/network is. Because this is a workshop model I am expected to impart knowledge but while I'll come with an worked-out agenda, I'm happy to loosen and/or toss it aside if needed. The workshop description:

Many of the classic themes of Quakerism speak to the condition of a world wracked by consumerism, war, bigotry and environmental disregard. Friends have a history of uniting truth and love and turning it into action. We'll reach into the Quaker attic to dust off gospel order, plain living, traveling ministry, prophetic witness; we'll try them on and see how they fit into our experiences of the living Spirit. There will be plenty of time to share stories in small groups and together. How are our monthly meetings doing recognizing the gifts of ministry and service among younger Friends? How are Friends doing spreading the good news of the Quaker way? There is a great people to be gathered still but how can we enter into the faithfulness required? Jesus came up the fishermen and said "Come, follow me;" what would we do if we got that call? Like any programmed Quaker event the workshop is really an excuse to assemble Friends together in prayer and faithfulness to God. The most important thing we could do this weekend is build friendships: friendships of support, mutual accountability, and peer mentorship. Friends from all branches of Quakerism welcome, as are the newest of seekers.

The price is $180 for the weekend (registration form) but if that's a burden then try to get your meeting to pay--I suspect they'll be happy to see that you're showing an interest in Quakerism. I'll be driving up from South Jersey and will probably be able to pick up folks from Philly & New York. Email me if you have or need a ride from other points and I'll try to connect you with other travelers.

If you're too old or too impatient to wait for Second Month to roll around, pick up Brian Drayton's new book On Living with a Concern for Gospel Ministry and read that instead. Yes, I plugged it five days ago and yes, my paycheck comes from the publisher--but I've now now read the first chapter and it really is that good. Reading it feels like putting that soon-to-be-favorite pop album on the turntable for the first time. Where were you when you first heard Sgt Peppers? (for the YAFs in the audience: yes I'm being silly with the Beatles reference; if you remember first putting that album on a turntable in 1967 then this isn't your workshop!).

A lot has been written about Intelligent Design (creationism without the G-word) because of the trial in Pennsylvania's Dover Area School District. An excellent New Yorker article about it a few weeks ago mentioned that one of the school board members pushing Intelligent Design is a Quaker. Who would have guessed? But should I be so surprised?

Now, I absolutely don't think it should be taught in science classes at all. I'm with the judge that the ID argument is religious and not scientific. Students shouldn't be forced to listen to Christian propaganda in a public school. But what if we take the debate out of the schoolhouse and bring it into the meetinghouse? A core principle of Friends is Fox's opening that Christ has come to teach the people himself. The era of divine agency in human affairs didn't end in the early 30s A.D. but continues. When we pray for discernment in our business meetings, we're asking for a very real presence (common metaphors are the still small voice and a "nudge from the Spirit"). If God guides us as individuals and a Society of Friends into the mystery of a direct, Christ-centered contact, then it's not much of a stretch to suppose God at least occassionally tips the scales on the evolutionary front as well.

We are a religious people who believe in God's active agency in our lives: isn't that pretty much the Intelligent Design argument? As a science geek, I don't buy it at all but as a Friend it seems to make sense. Is anyone else out there struggling with this seeming-contradiction?

ps: yes I know there are some liberal Friends who don't buy into anything dealing with God, which seems to be to be a different issue. What are those of us who do look for direct guidance to make of Intelligent Design?
pps: Things so Small Sarah skirted by this issue last week in a great post.