Thoughts on the surprise Truitt family visit yesterday, because I know Quakers can be really really bad at this… Make sure you have a website that lists a phone number that rings through to a real person in real time. One that also lists an email that will be promptly read and answered. This event came together pretty fast. From the first phone call from township official Stacy Webb late Tuesday afternoon to my unlocking the meetinghouse doors was about 24 hours.
I was on a video call when Stacy’s first call came in so I had to let it go to voicemail. So also have voicemail set up. After my previous call ended I was able to reply to Stacy’s email and then followup with a quick call to confirm details. This was one less detail she had to worry about in an event with lots of moving parts. (In addition to a half dozen Truitt family members we had the mayor, deputy mayor, township manager, a police liaison, and a communications staffer with a camera. That’s a lot of people to coordinate.) In a lull in the event, Stacy told me it was great that she find and reach someone at Cropwell Meeting so easily.
I know communication can be hard but we need to be accessible. I’ve been ghosted SO MANY TIMES when trying to call or email Quaker meetings. And it’s not just the small ones that don’t get back to me. Sometimes meetings with paid office staff also don’t return messages. Cropwell uses a Google Voice number to forward phone calls to my personal cell and emails also automatically forward to me. It’s not overwhelming, not in the least — I let things forward to voicemail when I need to and I have ringers turned off at night. But because Cropwell set this up even before I became involved, I’ve been able to respond to inquiries quickly, once even as I was driving to meeting on Sunday morning (don’t worry, I pulled over). People already think we’re extinct. Don’t give them more reasons to think that’s true.
I had a wonderful time playing host for a visit by an old Cropwell Meeting family that was visiting the area this week. The Truitts were a free Black family in Delaware who joined self-emancipating enslaved people in that state and on Maryland’s Eastern Shore to settle among South Jersey Quakers in the early 1800s. The highlight was definitely 103 year old Margaret Adele McGee, who told stories of worshiping at Cropwell in the 1920s!
I talked with Tom Gates this week about the nature of belief. He has an article in the current Friends Journal titled “Beyond What Words Can Utter.”
We agreed that a lot of Quaker belief can only be experienced, not described, which makes for difficulties when doing outreach. It’s easy to go into nuance once someone has coming into the meetinghouse and is participating in an education program but how do we get them off the street in the first place. Tom said:
I’m comfortable with Christ language and the inward light of Christ. And I know there are friends who are not, and there are good reasons why they’re not. I’m not denying that. in these newcomer sessions a persistent question is: Are Quakers Christian? And how do you understand that? And they’re mostly coming from backgrounds and other kind of more conservative churches.
And so that’s a live question for them because in some sense they all left those churches because the fundamentalism was grating on them. I always pull off this thing from my shelf, it’s the Reader’s Guide to George Fox’s Journal by Joseph Pickvance. And he makes a fascinating statement: the commonest cause of misunderstanding of Fox’s teaching today is a failure to realize how wide and deep and functional is the meaning that quote Christ had for him.
I’m pretty used to the standard rhetorical paths of Quaker stories after so many years as an editor but every once in a while one comes along and knocks my socks off.
I’ve written before1 that I’m not a fan of the “when to speak in meeting” flowcharts Friends sometimes post in the meetinghouse to discourage vocal ministry. One is expected to test an incoming message against half a dozen queries and only speak if they can clear them all in the space of an hour. A lot of newcomers see these and decide to just keep quiet.
Christine Hartmann was just one of these new attenders. She writes “after studying all this, I decided to hold off speaking in meeting, if at all possible, for fear of getting it wrong.” She was so careful and so scrupulous that her silence almost cost her her life. I’m not kidding. Literally. Read the article. Wild, wild.
(Yes, there are disruptive newcomers who give inappropriate ministry in Quaker worship. In my experience they’re rarely the ones sitting down and studying flowcharts. The visitors these charts deter are the careful and thoughtful ones who are already tying themselves in knots wondering whether they should speak. These are the folks you want to encourage.)
Last week my son Gregory’s scout troop headed to southern Pennsylvania to start a 50-mile backpacking trip south, to cover all of Maryland’s portion of the Appalachian Trail and end up in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia. I was asked to drive them, and as it seemed a little too far to commute back to South Jersey I spent four days by myself down there and had a great time. I thought I’d share various thoughts:
Hostels are great. I haven’t stayed in a hostel in forever but at $35/night, the price was right. I’m so glad I did. Every night was a new cast of people to get to meet, quirky and fun and delightfully weird. This was the weekend of the Flip-Flop Kickoff festival put on by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. As I understand it, the “flip flop” is an alternate way of doing a through-hike on the Appalachian Trail (“the AT”). Instead of starting in Georgia and heading north along with hundreds of others, you start in Harper’s Ferry (the honorary halfway point) and go south, then find a ride back to Harper’s Ferry and go north. The festival brought a lot of hikers to Cross Trails hostel, where I stayed, and I even participated in a few events; I felt myself an honorary AT hiker!
I loved the ambiance and the characters at Cross Trails Hostel. The staff were great.
I love my bike. I put my bike rack on my old econobox car and used it every day to commute the five miles or so from the hostel to Harper’s Ferry. The C&O Canal Towpath is a mostly flat, beautiful trail that winds 180 miles alongside the Potomac River. One day I continued north from Harper’s Ferry and rode it to Shepardstown: a beautiful ride apart from the calf-breaking bluffs on either side of the trip.2 Also a lot of outdoor fun is whitewater rafting. There’s three companies in the area offering it and I had a good time with Harper’s Ferry Adventure Center.
The C&O Canal Towpath trail is wonderful.
Don’t forget the non-vegan restaurants. I was excited by a vegan option in Harper’s Ferry but my favorite meal by far was at a regular cafe in Shepherdstown. I had an amazing homemade black bean veggie burger, a sesame noodles appetizer, decent fries, and a tall cold glass of hard apple cider. Five stars to the Blue Moon Cafe. Extra bonus: there’s an actual creek flowing through the back patio.
Five stars to Shepherdstown’s Blue Moon Cafe.
There is so much history atop itself in Harper’s Ferry. It’s a tiny town and yet every time you turn around there’s something monumental going on. John’s Brown raid is perhaps the most famous but it was also the site of multiple Civil War engagements, a provisioning stop for Meriwether Lewis, and a place where Thomas Jefferson waxed poetic.
The Oddfellows Hall. One of their members was taken hostage by John Brown. As if that’s not enough history, famed Civil War photographer Matthew Brady set up his camera here and took lots of pictures of soldiers from this vantage point.
Don’t defend Harper’s Ferry. There’s much one could say about John Brown’s motivations, tactics, etc., but really dude, how dumb do you have to be to try to force-start the Civil War there of all places? As soon as word got out about what was happening, militias from three states and federal troops poured in from the hills on all sides of the town and trapped him. It was over almost as soon as it began. The Civil War engagements were like that too. It’s a fishbowl with mountain ridges on all sides: you just set up your munitions on Maryland or Loudoun Heights and lob cannon balls down on the town until you get a surrender. A quote attributed to a Union lieutenant in an exhibit really summed it up for me: “Gen. Jackson and Gen. Hill told me personally, they had rather take it [Harper’s Ferry] forty times than to undertake to defend it once.”
These are the little hills behind Harper’s Ferry. On either side are much taller ones.
Visiting new meetings is great. On Sunday morning I had church time so I motored south to visit Goose Creek Meeting in Lincoln, Virginia. 3 It’s an old meeting, steeped in its own history. It’s aways fun to see a new meeting. They have honest-to-God pews with hymnal racks along the back, each carefully stocked with a Bible, an FGC hymnal, and Baltimore’s Faith and Practice. They have a loud clock, which I’ve always heard was a Hicksite marker and indeed I later learned the Hicksites held the meetinghouse in the nineteenth century schisms.4 There were only two messages and one was a fake Gandhi quote (you all will be happy that I didn’t fact-check it in real time and just let the sentiment behind it stand for itself). It seemed like a really grounded meeting. I was impressed that people got there early and sat quietly preparing for worship. Everyone was very friendly for the few minutes of coffee hour I could squeeze out before heading back north to pick up scouts.
Nice light in the main room before worship. Note the hymnal racks on the back of benches and also the prominent clock.
Also in Friends Journal’s issue, “Outside the Meetinghouse,” a piece from Brad Stocker of Miami Meeting in Florida:
Most Friends have an understanding of the architectural message that our meetinghouses express. We understand the simplicity of the structure. We understand the reason there are no steeples or crosses on the outside and why we have clear windows placed so as to invite the light to enter. We are equally sensitive to interior design. While we come into frequent, intimate contact with the meetinghouse exterior, and the land it sits on, we may be less aware of the message they convey.
There may be a little whiplash to talk about butterfly gardens after the recent article on Quaker worship from prison but I like the intentionality of Stocker’s observations: we are always making statements with the care (or non-care) of our physical space. Miami’s the kind of coastal city where climate change is very much not a theoretical issue and Stocker is very involved in his yearly meeting’s earthcare education initiatives. The meetinghouse grounds are a place to model good stewardship; taking the care to have them be inviting and quietly demonstrative of Quaker values is important outreach.
Yohannes “Knowledge” Johnson is a member of Bulls Head — Oswego Meeting even though he has never set foot in the meetinghouse. He hasn’t because he’s been a guest of the New York State prison system for almost forty years (murder and attempted murder in 1980). Johnson talks about how he centers and participates despite the walls and bars surrounding him:
Centering is always a welcome challenge, for, as one would expect, prison can be a noisy place and competing conversations can be overwhelming. What I do is draw myself into the pictures and focus upon the images and people therein. I have accompanying pictures of places visited by Friends and sent to me over the years with scenery that, for me as a person raised on the concrete pavements of New York City, gives me visions of natural beauty without the clutter of building structures and the like.
I think about the people I’ve cared about who have needed to talk to themselves and make noises. Who need to pace and say things we don’t understand. Spirit is moving through them, in this incarnational way. Reminding them they still have bodies that can make noises, that they still can breath words into being.
Cropwell Quakers 