The whole issue is really powerful and I hope you find it as enlightening as I did.

Where I live, in one of the colonial-era Quaker colonies of the Mid-Atlantic United States, there has long been a benevolent portrayal of Quakers’ relations with the local Indigenous Peoples. We are told that early Friend William Penn negotiated the Treaty of Shackamaxon with Lenape leader Tamanend, a moment memorialized by parks, statues, and a famous painting by Benjamin West. The great French philosopher Voltaire declared it “the only treaty never sworn to and never broken.” The new settlers bought each plot of land from the local Lenape bands. Violence in the first half-century of Quaker governance was rare; cooperation and good will were the norm.

And yet: there is no federally recognized Indigenous Nation left in this former Lenape territory. Every boatload of Quakers that sailed up from Delaware Bay brought the threat of another round of deadly smallpox. Every creek dammed to power a mill cut off the spawning fish runs that stocked upland creeks. Every pig let loose from an English farmstead ate through nearby Lenape maize and squash plantings.

Within the last month I became aware of the “Hometown Heroes” program. Hanging from lampposts in our downtown, and other downtown districts in the region, are banners with the pictures and names of former military personnel. I was looking at one of the banners hanging outside of my bank and I started thinking to myself. “Why is it always soldiers?

Off the top of my head I can think of plenty of other members of the community that are heros from my standpoint. Activists for justice and conscience. Civic-minded gadflies. Shopowners who provide so-called “third places” for for people to congregegate. Traffic engineers who push back against corner-cutting in safety issues. The most important heros are often everyday people who simply do the right thing when chance puts a dangerous moral dilemma right in their path.

I push back against a simple military-are-heros narratives because in times of authoritarianism the military often become the enforcers. There’s the jingoistic nonsense you hear that the military is protecting our freedom to protest. No: in most cases our liberty has been preserved by people standing up and practicing their liberty despitee intimidation by authoritarian bullies and their police forces. I have friends in the military and I respect their choices and honor their commitments. I know heros can be found throughout the enlisted ranks and in our police forces but so are scoundrels. We need to recognize hometown heroism wherever it happens and resist the mindset that it’s exclusive to state forces.

https://quakerreturns.blogspot.com/2018/05/hometown-heroes.html

we went to weekend training workshops; we read the writings of Christian healers; shamanic healers; and practitioners of Reiki, traditional Chinese medicine, Ayurveda, and homeopathy. I longed to be able to inspect people’s etheric and astral bodies, their chakras and marmas, with a diagnostician’s eye. So long as it involved no straying from Christ, I aspired to know how to mobilize healing virtues in plant spirits, minerals, colors, and sounds, and how to recognize “holy” places.

Some of this reminds me of the wonderful work of the eighteen-century Friend Samuel Bownas, whose book A Description of the Qualifications Necessary to a Gospel Minister is full of very useful advice on ministry and warnings about pitfalls—romantic attachments, undue politicization.

The Cost of a Healing Gift — Friends Journal

The discovery of a gift for healing is only the first step in a process of learning and…

Friends Journal

Losing yourself to anger is possible even with anger focused against injustice and cruelty. You can become so focused on the target of your rage. That you do not notice when you have lost sight of your goals and are only in it for the fight. Even following the Peace Testimony of Non-Violence we need to recognize when we are no longer being Non-Aggressive.

Like many convinced Friends, I came to the society through activism. I had met plenty of people who let righteous anger serve as cover for more visceral hatred. One eye-opening protest in the 90s was in a rural part of Pennsylvania. When one of the locals screamed the cliche of the era—“Go get a job!”—a protestor shouted back, “I’ve got a job and I make more than you.” It was true even as it was cruel and irrelevant and braggy.

I didn’t see this kind of behavior as much with the Friends I saw at various protests, which is largely why I started gravitating toward them whenever possible. I could see that there was something in the Quaker culture and value system that was able to navigate between righteous and personal anger and draw the line in difficult situations. I love Josh’s description of the “Craig Ferguson” method:

I ask myself. “Does this need to be said?” “Does this need to be said by me?” “Does this need to be said by me right now?” Doing this cuts down on moments of spontaneous anger.

This could also describe the Quaker discernment method for ministry. Maybe there’s something to the care we take (or at least aim for) in that process that gives us a little more self-discipline in the heat of protest or that helps us sort through thorny ethical issues that run through our own community.

https://quakerreturns.blogspot.com/2018/04/not-falling-into-fire-of-my-own-ire.html

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The Witness of Our Lost Twenty-Somethings

By Martin Kelley

What is it like to be a thirty-something Friend these days? Lonely and frustrating. At least half of the committed, interesting and bold twenty-something Friends I knew ten years ago have left Quakerism. This isn’t normal youthful church-hopping and it’s not some character flaw of “Generation X.” They’ve left because they were simply tired of slamming their heads against the wall of an institutional Quakerism that neglected them and its own future.

I can certainly relate. For the last decade, I’ve done ground-breaking work publicizing nonviolence online. I’ve been profiled in the New York Times and invited on national talk radio shows, but the clerk of the peace committee in my achingly-small monthly meeting always forgets that I have “some website” and I’ve never been asked to speak to Friends about my work. I wouldn’t mind being overlooked if I saw others my age being recognized, but most of the amazing ministries I’ve known have been just as invisible.

It’s like this even at the small-scale level. I’ve gone to countless committee meetings with ideas, enthusiasm and faithfulness, only to realize (too late, usually) that these are just the qualities these committees don’t want. Through repeated heartbreak I’ve finally learned that if I feel like I’m crashing a party when I try to get involved with some Quaker cause, then it’s a sign that it’s time to get out of there! I’ve been in so many meetinghouses where I’ve been the only person within ten years of my age in either direction that I’m genuinely startled when I’m in a roomful of twenty- and thirty-somethings.

I recently had lunch with one of the thirtysomething Friends who have left. He had been drawn to Friends because of their mysticism and their passion for nonviolent social change; he was still very committed to both. But after organizing actions for years, he concluded that the Friends in his meeting didn’t think the peace testimony could actually inspire us to a witness that was so bold.

I wrote about this lunch conversation on my website and before long another old Friend surfaced. Eight years ago a witness and action conference inspired him to help launch a national Quaker youth volunteer network. He put years of his life into this; his statements on the problems and promises facing Quaker youth are still right on the mark. But after early excitement his support evaporated and the project eventually fell apart in what he’s described as “a bitter and unsuccessful experience.”

The loss of Quaker peers has hit close to home for me. When one close Friend learned my wife had left Quakerism for another church after eleven years, all he could say was how pleased he was that she had finally found her spiritual home; others gave similar empty- sounding platitudes. I felt like saying to them “No, you dimwits, we’ve driven away yet another Friend!” Each of these three lost Friends remain deeply committed to the Spirit and are now involved in other religious societies.

Young adults haven’t always been as invisible or uninvolved as they are now. A whole group of the Quaker leaders currently in their fifties and sixties were given important jobs at Quaker organizations at very tender ages (often right out of college). Also, there’s historical precedent for this: George Fox was 24 when he began his public ministry; Samuel Bownas was 20 when he was roused out of his meetinghouse slumber to begin his remarkable ministry; even Margaret Fell was still in her thirties when she was convinced. When the first generation of Friends drew together a group of their most important elders and ministers to address one of their many crises, the average age of the gathering was 35. Younger Friends haven’t always been ghettoized into Young

Audlt Friends only dorms, programs, workshops or committees.

There is hope. Some have started noticing that young Friends who go into leadership training programs often disappear soon afterwards. The powers that be at Friends General Conference have finally started talking about “youth ministry.” (Welcome!). A great people might possibly be gathered from the emergent church movement and the internet is full of amazing conversations from new Friends and seekers. There are pockets in our branch of Quakerism where older Friends have continued to mentor and encourage meaningful and integrated youth leadership, and some of my peers have hung on with me. Most hopefully, there’s a whole new generation of twenty- something Friends on the scene with strong gifts that could be nurtured and harnessed.

In the truest reality, our chronological ages melt away in the ever-refreshing currents of the Living Spirit; we are all as children to a loving God. Will Friends come together to remember this before our religious society loses another generation?

Martin Kelley is a member of Atlantic City Monthly Meeting, Philadelphia Yearly Meeting. He works for FGC as the webmaster and bookstore secretary. This article is written from his experience.

h3. See also:
* “Emergent Church Movement: The Younger Evangelicals and Quaker Renewal”:/Quaker/emerging_church.php