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My heart is pounding, words are lining up impatiently at the tip of my tongue, the silent room suddenly feels as if it's holding its breath, I'm starting to tremble.... Should I speak?
The first time I had this experience in a Quaker meeting for worship was around Christmas 1974, at Uwchlan Meeting in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. I knew the theoretical answer to my urgent question. In the words of Ruth M. Pitman in the Canadian Friend magazine (later published as "On the Vocal Ministry"):
It is understood in such a Meeting that any messages that are spoken strive to be God’s word for these people at this time; that is, no one will speak unless he has prayerfully considered two questions: whether the message is God’s or his own, and whether it should be given to these people now, or is for the individual alone.
But I had been among Friends for only a few months, and furthermore, this particular group was not my home meeting. Who was I to say whether God was the source of my thoughts in this time and place? What business did I have interrupting this peaceful assembly?
I did overcome my self-doubts, and spoke a message on spiritual power in the context of the recent oil embargo. I make no claims as to the merits of this first message, but the experience felt like a sort of baptism.
These were the memories that came back to me as as I began to read Rhiannon Grant's new book in the "Quaker Quicks" series: Speaking in Quaker Meeting for Worship: what, when, how, and why? I wish a guide like hers had been available to me five decades ago!
Confession: I approached the book with some initial skepticism, which may say more about my prejudices than anything about the book or author. First of all, Rhiannon Grant's Quaker community is Britain Yearly Meeting, which despite its variety is typically described as liberal. Its meetings for worship are, except for special occasions, unprogrammed (see this post for a bit about "programmed" and "unprogrammed"). Although I spent my first eight years as a Friend in similar cultures in Canadian, New England, and Baltimore Yearly Meetings, the rest of my Quaker experience of forty-plus years have mainly been among programmed Friends served by pastors. Would any of her observations apply where I live?
My second apprehension: would a book-length (even a Quaker Quicks-length) treatment come across as an attempt to groom the aesthetically perfect unprogrammed meeting, pitched to the comfort level of Atlantic-culture demographics in terms of class, education, verbal fluency, and long attention spans, or would there be room for Holy Spirit spontaneity, of grief, ecstasy, confession, prophecy, song, all that potentially attaches to Quakers quaking?
My apprehensions were unfounded.
First of all, Rhiannon Grant is clear about her own Quaker context, but is aware of the range of worship styles among Friends, including programmed worship. More importantly, her practical guidance on speaking in worship seems to me to apply to any Friends meeting in which time is set aside for what programmed Friends often call "open worship." As she says early on, "The understanding of this book is that when we are open and willing in the stillness of meeting for worship, any of us can be moved to speak." That's why "any of us" can benefit from her observations.
She doesn't address the specific situation of a Friends pastor or regular speaker preparing a sermon, but even here many of her suggestions would be useful. It's clear that in her culture, advance preparation of a message is usually inappropriate—but there is no hint of taboo. (My own belief is that the work of worship-planning and sermon-writing should be surrounded by the same level of sensitivity that we expect in meeting for worship. I'm sometimes startled by how similar sermon-writing can be to giving spontaneous messages in unprogrammed worship.)
Another feature of Grant's book: its kind, unpretentious, open-ended tone, often grounded in personal experience, with touches of humor. Examples:
Contrasting ordinary speech with ministry during worship: (Link added.)
In ministry, by contrast, the majority of the source is inspiration: even if I have done a little bit of planning, like being asked to read from Advices & Queries, I wait to be led to speak and to feel what would be right to read. Usually, I don't speak at all unless that strong inspiration arrives. There will still be a little bit of me in there—including whatever I feel about having to speak in front of others—but ego is in the minority and the promptings of love and truth are in the lead.
There can be times when it is hard to tell which element is strongest. Am I really inspired to say this, or do I want to say it? Am I sharing this story about having a wonderful spiritual experience on holiday because it's brought me insight, or because I want other people to know about my holiday and my spirituality?
When you have finished saying what you have been given to say:
After giving ministry, there can be a sense of relief. If you experience physical sensations like shaking, they might either stop or briefly get worse. Sometimes I experience a wave of anxiety about the mundane social side of the situation—in my discernment process, I focussed on the message, and it's only afterwards that I ask myself whether I said something ridiculous and whether everyone hates me now.
What about theology? Rhiannon Grant explicitly says that theology is a secondary concern for this book, and refers readers to her books that focus more directly on theology. As a self-described evangelical Quaker (sometimes in despair that the word "evangelical" doesn't communicate what I stubbornly think it ought to!), I'm guessing that she and I are probably not in the exact same place. This book, however, communicates a warm theological hospitality that enhances rather than weakens the practical guidance she gives for speaking in worship.
One of her book's great virtues is that it simultaneously honors and demythologizes the ministry of speaking in worship. Grant recognizes its high value as a way God shapes us as a community and guides us toward other ways of ministering to our world. At the same time, she considers all the various temperaments we find among us, including those who speak too readily, and those who feel totally unready to speak at all. She describes various ways that spoken ministry can derail a meeting for worship—and how Friends might respond—but also points out that disruption might at times be God's actual intent! She holds up the precious service of elders or other experienced Friends who can encourage the budding minister or help those whose ministry can be unhelpful. She considers the practice of "afterword" or "afterwords," a time after the end of the worship when thoughts that did not seem to rise to the level of ministry during worship—perhaps less than prophecy but more than casual discussion—can be shared with the group. She describes a variety of ways to organize this supplementary opportunity, and outlines their advantages and disadvantages.
Grant's book is well-organized. Her first few chapters define her terms and concepts, and would be helpful to anyone mystified by how we Friends use terms that mean different things among us than they do in the wider world. After some basic observations on worship among Friends, she describes the ways that speaking contributes to the depth and power of worship, and the general patterns that often prevail when things are going well.
Then: when things are not going so well, what might be happening, and how might we respond? Her list of possible dysfunctions is telling...
- Popcorn ministry (too many messages too quickly, without enough time in between to absorb them or to discern one's own participation)
- A message is too long
- Predictable ministry
- Absent ministry
- Inappropriate ministry, and
- Is it really wrong?
On that last point, it's worth quoting her directly:
It isn't always clear about how to draw a boundary about what's acceptable or not, and being told to trust your discernment might only make things worse if discernment is not already a strong and regular practice in your life. Add in issues of politeness, status, insecurity about belonging to the community, challenges around the role of authority without hierarchy, along with some questions about theology, which touch on very personal religious maters, and the situation is undoubtedly sometimes very difficult.
...
If my community is also a body, I have to expect that the painful will come with the pleasurable and that things I don't notice and can't control will be happening alongside the things where I have some choice. It's part of the gift of being together.
The following sections of the book help us apply all these insights to ourselves, our own discernment on whether or not to speak, how we speak, and how we then return to the quiet center from which our ministry arose. Finally, Grant addresses questions of assistive technology, online and hybrid worship, and the sometimes awkward questions arising from these newer modes of worship. She ends her book with a list of print and online resources.
If your Friends meeting or church uses this book in a discussion group or a class for newcomers, I think you'll be delighted with its scope. Rhiannon Grant succeeds in linking her central topic—speaking in meeting for worship—with just about all aspects of our life as a worshipping community. Her approach is grounded but not rigid, and should lead to many fertile conversations.
Here is an older guide to "Open Worship" including whether and when to speak during worship. It was adapted from a pamphlet written by the late Stan Thornburg, who served Friends churches in Mid-America and Northwest Yearly Meetings. His chart has been used and adapted to various formats in several Friends meetings and churches.
And here again is the link to Ruth M. Pitman's "On the Vocal Ministry." Ruth Pitman identifies with Conservative Friends and has been a frequent contributor to Quaker Religious Thought. In this post from 2017, I said more about Pitman's tract and my first experience of speaking in meeting.
Patrick Nugent's article (1996) "On Speaking in Meeting for Worship" appeared in this issue of Friends Journal, starting on page seven.
Here are Friends' opinions on the use of queries as framing for open worship, part one, part two.
Mass Observation, May 12. Are you in the UK? Are you planning to participate in this national diary? (With thanks to Rebecca Rosewarne for the link.) Does your country have a similar archive project?
Revoking international students' visas "makes America smaller, not stronger." I have a Palestinian friend, a young doctor who is scheduled to arrive soon for a residency in the USA, so these days I'm very alert to this concern.
Mondoweiss on Gaza: Israeli forces are working toward making Gaza uninhabitable for its current population, but they are running low on soldiers.
May's theme at the Daily Quaker Message is peace and nonviolence. I continue to appreciate these daily posts. Here's Tuesday's post, with a quote from Duncan Wood.
Sarah Thomas Baldwin: When we "spiritually amphibious creatures" can't quite find our souls.
Beth Woolsey's Irrational Joy Project. (Also: "...wallowing is an underrated stage of grief.")
Here (audio only) is the late Joe Louis Walker's version of "Wade in the Water." Rest in peace.
This post inspired some thoughts connected to experiences in my own church (Dayspring Church in Germantown, Maryland, USA), which is ecumenical not Quaker. Part of what inspired these thoughts was your observation that the process when speaking spontaneously in worship and when speaking after preparing the message in advance may be very similar.
ReplyDeleteOur church chooses not to have a pastor and rejects the clergy/laity distinction, believing all are called to ministry in various forms. Anyone can sign up to lead the message time in our worship. Sometimes someone does that when they feel led to share something with the gathered community and uses this as the opportunity to follow that leading. Sometimes someone feels led to offer to lead this time, without an idea when they sign up what they will be led to share.
We do have an accepted practice of everyone having what the early Friends called a "time of retirement" each day when you spend time in silence in waiting, prayer, Bible reading, etc. Early Friends did believe in preparation in that sense if not in the sense of preparing to give a prescripted message in worship. A person who has agreed to lead the message time often spends hours in silence and reflection over a period of a week or several weeks to listen to what needs to be shared. And they are always open to it changing the day or even while they are speaking.
It is not uncommon for that person to open the time to sharing from those in the congregation. For example, last Sunday, the woman who was leading the time spoke briefly related to the day's lectionary readings on what it means to be an Easter people. Then she invited anyone to share a resurrection experience of their own. Like Quakers, we follow a practice of always having a period of silence between sharings to allow what has been shared to sink in. 7 people (of 11 in the room) shared such experiences. It was very powerful. Sometimes, particularly in the summer when we meet at a pavilion in the woods, the person leading the message time will have people wander quietly in nature for 20 minutes and let creation speak to them, and then provide a little time for people to share what came to them while doing that.
We also have a time of community prayer in which all are free to pray however led. We have expanded our announcements time to be announcements and sharing so it sometimes becomes like a modern Quaker Afterwords. And people are free to share in other ways. Recently, a young woman who leads song circles at our church felt led to lead a song in that fashion at worship and had the liturgist of that day include that in the liturgy. There have been times when after a message was shared, someone in the congregation felt led to call for a song to sing or to offer some sharing even when that had not been specifically invited.
The key is to be listening every day in addition to times of worship and to be open to follow wherever the Spirit leads. And while many Quaker meetings have adopted a practice of a specific length of worship, our church does what early Friends did of just letting the Spirit fill whatever amount of time to allow whatever is needed at the time.
Thank you, Bill, for giving me a very helpful look into your congregation's life.
ReplyDeleteWhat you said about the daily "time of retirement" reminded me of Rhiannon Grant's comment on the cost of losing the discipline of discernment: "...being told to trust your discernment might only make things worse if discernment is not already a strong and regular practice in your life."
The sentence about your second apprehension has made an impression on me. Thank you for elucidating, "an attempt to groom the aesthetically perfect unprogrammed meeting, pitched to the comfort level of Atlantic-culture demographics in terms of class, education, verbal fluency, and long attention spans, or would there be room for Holy Spirit spontaneity, of grief, ecstasy, confession, prophecy, song, all that potentially attaches to Quakers quaking? "
ReplyDeleteThis is a clear critique of many liberal Quaker attempts at eldering and nurturing worship. I pray to stay clear enough to avoid grooming our aesthetics.
Hello, Jay! I'm grateful that Rhiannon's book doesn't contribute to that "grooming." I've seen examples of it from time to time. Sometimes it can be rather innocent, as, for example, Westminster Meeting's "oasis of calm in central London" tagline. A meeting CAN be an oasis of calm, but that is far from an adequate description, still less a promise!
ReplyDelete(More here.)
I continue to appreciate Pierre Lacout's booklet God Is Silence, in particular the chapter on "The art of making use of obstacles." For example: "If we wish to make progress in the way of Silence we must be convinced that the will cannot of itself impose calm and serenity. The role of the will is a very modest one—like that of the shepherd who chooses where [the] sheep shall graze, or of the dog who gathers in the flock and watches over it. Nothing more, but nevertheless of great importance. Neither the shepherd nor the dog can prevent one of the sheep from straying. They do not worry about it—their task is to bring back the wanderer to the pasture."
Pierre Lacout's booklet can be borrowed from the Internet Archive at this link.
ReplyDelete