I wrote the introductory column for the June/July issue of Friends Journal, which is devoted to revivals.
It’s my pet theory that Quakerism is always dying and simultaneously always being reborn. It’s been a messy process with lots of hurt feelings. Many people have left Friends, and there are a bewildering number of institutional schisms still dividing us. But to paraphrase Mark Twain, the rumors of our death have been greatly exaggerated.
In the past couple of of months I’ve noticed various Friends using this image of Margaret Fox as a stand-in for Margaret Fell, the so-called “mother” of Quakerism who later married George Fox. Unfortunately it’s a few centuries late. This picture is Margaret Fox of Hydesville, N.Y. It’s from an 1885 book called The Missing Link in Modern Spiritualism, in which she and her family describe their haunted house. Their three daughters, Margaretta, Kate, and Leah, became known as the Fox Sisters, and became the most famous trio in nineteenth-century Spiritualism. In later years Margaretta admitted the hauntings were hoaxes, alas.
There is a Quaker connection, as the sisters helped convince leading radical Hicksites Amy and Isaac Post to adopt Spiritualism and start communing with the dead. Issac later wrote “spirit writings” under the bylines of people like George Fox and Benjamin Franklin.1 It would be super easy to make fun of the Posts but they also opened their home as an Underground Railroad stop and were personal friends of William Lloyd Garrison, Susan B. Anthony, Sojourner Truth, and Frederick Douglass (who they helped escape to Canada after he was implicated in the John Brown raid at Harper’s Ferry). They were leading figures in what became known as the Progressive Friends movement, whose energy is still palpable in Liberal Quaker circles.
The internet being what it is, there are plenty of websites that have taken this out of context and presented it as Margaret Fell Fox. Unfortunately there are no contemporary images of Margaret Fell. The best we have is a twentieth-century representation of her by Robert Spence, who over thirty years made a number of charming line drawings of the life of George Fox (Friends Journal used one for an illustration in a recent article).
I am writing this post simply to show up in future search results. If I can prevent one person from mistakenly using this image as an illustration or basis for a piece of art then it will have been worth it.
Also, FYI, this is what portraits looked like in Margaret Fell’s time:
The newest Friends Journal issue is out, looking at how we use money. It’s perhaps not the sexiest topic but it speaks to what we value as a body of believers. Are we focused on our internal group or on the world outside our walls? Sometimes the discussions around money are tedious and our decisions self-evident. I think it’s possible for a meeting to spend too much time focused on its own self-management. But there are times when discussions of resource use brings out surprising inspiration.
First up in our features is Joann Neuroth’s “Putting Our Money Where Our Hearts Are,” a look at how her meeting in Lansing, Michigan, took seemingly tiny steps that have grown into signifiant community outreach and investment.
When we catch our breath to add it all up, we realize that the volunteers who “feed the pantry” daily have put $11,000 of food in that box each year. It feels a bit like loaves and fishes! Where did it come from, one grocery bag at a time? We are pretty sure anyone proposing an $11,000 program back in 2020 would have been quickly set straight about limits to our capacity. But one can of soup at a time, we have truly surprised ourselves.
On the face of it, it may be kind of weird for a vegan like me to like an article about hunting (much less publish a recipe for squirrel quiche) but anyone who brings in Thomas Clarkson to talk about Quaker cultural values is someone I’ll listen to.
[Clarkson’s] contemporaries were blinded by tradition and never stopped to ask, “how far are they allowable?” amidst concerns of human conduct. Even the phrasing “how far are they allowable” suggests a limit. Perhaps hunting is an allowable and acceptable way of life up to a certain point: that point being needless violence and danger.
“Speaking into the Silence” from the August 1991 Friends Journal.
People have been commenting a lot on this chart Friends Journal shared on social media last week. Originally published in the August 1991 issue, what I love most about it is its 1990s-era flowchart design. What would it be today — some punchy infographic perhaps? We dove into the archives because this month’s issue is all about Quaker vocal ministry and at least two of the feature articles mention these kinds of charts.
There is a frequently reproduced diagram that graphically guides potential speakers through a series of questions they are to consider when they feel an urge to rise and speak. These examine whether a potential message is divinely inspired; whether it is intended for the speaker alone or for others present; and whether this is the right time and place to deliver it. These resources are all useful, but they only address one half of the act of vocal ministry: one that is, by far, the smaller and perhaps less important portion. The other part is the ministry of listening, and we are all called to be listening ministers.
Since the beginning of the Religious Society of Friends, written advices have guided Friends. Yearly meetings’ faith and practice books, Pendle Hill pamphlets on vocal ministry, and individual monthly meetings’ “Welcome to Quaker Worship” handouts have guidelines for speaking or not speaking in meeting for worship. In 2019, Friends General Conference even published a poster of a circle flow chart with guidelines for delivering a message during worship.
This version is below. Yes, it is very 2020’s infographical in design! (PDF; a similar version was produced for a Pendle Hill pamphlet by FGC staff Barry Crossno and Brent Bill, PDF).
But I link to the articles because these kinds of when-to-speak kind of charts can always become problematic. As Betsy Cazden replied on Twitter: “The people who need it least will spend the full hour obsessing about the flow-chart and will never speak. The people who need it most never will.” Just a few weeks ago I was sitting on a bench in Cropwell (N.J.) Meeting testing and retesting my motivations and leadings to rise and give ministry. I gave a final breath to stand up when I heard the “good morning Friends” followed by the sounds of hands slapping on hands in rise-of-meeting handshakes. Over the years I have learned not spend my whole hour obsessing but had not realized this meeting’s worship was only 45 minutes!
Further reading: An Expected Miracle, a 2023 post about the (often unnecessary) pressures of Quaker ministry.
Thomas Hamm is one of the most literary QuakerSpeak interviewees — you could probably take his raw transcript and publish it as a Friends Journal article. But it’s good to have a YouTube-accessible explanation of one of the only formal compendiums of belief and practices that we creed-adverse Friends produce. It’s also fascinating to learn how the purpose and structure of Faith and Practice has differed over time, geography, and theology.
What do Quakers believe? How do we practice our faith? The best place to look for the answers might be in a book of faith and practice. Here’s what they are and how they evolved over time.
How many skeletons might remain buried? Possibly thousands, according to archaeologists, but no one knows. Historical maps are unclear on the cemeteries’ boundaries, but numerous histories portray the grounds as used first by Quakers and then by the poor, whose numbers increased along with the size of the city.
They quote the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting general secretary, who had heard nothing about this. The article also cites a 1880s article in Friends Intelligencer, the predecessor to Friends Journal.