Now I guess it’s time to think about workshops. Zach Moon and I are offering up one called “Strangers to the Covenant” but then you know that already. Liz Oppenheimer aka the The Good Raised Up is leading one called “Quaker Identity: Yearning, Forming, Deepening” that I suspect will be informed by her “own experience of stepping into a Quaker identity”. There’s also an exciting history workshop being led by Betsy Cazden, “Dilemmas from Our Quaker Past” (I have to admit when I saw the listing I wondered if I should call Zach up and assure him he’d be fine doing the Strangers workshop on his own so I could take Betsy’s). Other mentions: my wife Julie really liked the Lynn Fitz-Hugh workshop she took a few years ago.

As always there are workshops whose leaders I know to be more solid and grounded than the workshop they’re proposing; conversely, there are workshops that sound more interesting than I know their leader to be. Like always there are plenty whose appeal and/or relevance to Quakerism I just don’t comprehend at all, but that’s the Gathering.

Any recommendations from the peanut gallery? I should say that I’d like to refrain from ridiculing all of the workshops that beg to be made fun of. It feels as if this would edge too close to detraction. We will only get to Kingdom by modeling Christian charity and wearing our love on our sleeves.

So I’m worried that he’s written the first of a multipart article asking Is it time to leave Quakerism. I’m worried not just that Quakerism would lose a bright Light, etc., etc, but because I know that now I’m going to have to publicly mull over the question that’s a constant background hum that I try not to think about.

Update: just to prove my point, my comment to Joe’s post was more interesting that my post pointing to his post. Here’s the comment I just left there:

There was one day in worship a few years ago right around the time when my wife Julie decided to leave Quakerism when I had this odd vision. I imagined us as boulders the front edge of a waterfall. Thousands of gallons of water swept over us every day, eroding and scarring our surface and undermining the fragile base we were on. When Boulder Julie finally dislodged and fell off the precipice of Quakerism, I realized that one of the rocks that had held me in place was now gone and now there was going to be even more water and pressure trying to push me off.
I say this because you’ve become one of my blogging rocks, someone who confirms that I’m not a total nutcase. If you went over the edge I’d have to reassess my situation and at least take a peek down myself. At the very least I’m going to have to blog about why I’ve stayed so long. I’m sure this is only part one to my commentary on these issues…