Showing posts with label quakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quakers. Show all posts

08 October 2026

Our Quaker roots: a lot to untangle!

Source.  

Happily, we have a thoughtful and well-prepared co-navigator for this adventure, Stuart K. Masters.

The first audience for the presentation of Tangled Roots: Navigating the Complex Legacy of Early Quakers, were those attending his Swarthmore Lecture 2026, at Britain Yearly Meeting's most recent sessions. The lecture in book form has been available ever since, published by the sponsor of the Swarthmore lectures, Woodbrooke. Stuart has put together a useful Web page with links to the lecture in video form, several related videos, and excerpts sampling each of the book's main themes.

The Quaker movement has not lacked for drama, conflict, divisions, and variety across the many generations since the mid-seventeenth century when we got underway. But Stuart Masters proposes a set of themes—creative tensions, as he calls them—that were present from the very start and that help us understand that complexity. In his words,

... I will attempt to describe the diverse mix of characteristics visible in the early Quaker movement that have produced four important creative tensions for subsequent generations to navigate.

1) Inward experience and received tradition – Friends have practised a Spirit-led faith based on continuing revelation, making them cautious of human traditions. However, since they have established a tradition of their own, how should Quakers balance the inward guidance received in the present with the beliefs and practices inherited from the past? 

2) Communal order and individual freedom – There has been a long-standing creative tension between communal order and individual freedom. Sometimes Friends have enforced uniformity through systems of corporate discipline, while at other times they have promoted freedom and a permissive attitude to individual belief and behaviour. 

3) Quietist and charismatic – The first Friends combined a contemplative spiritual practice of inward surrender with a strongly embodied charismatic response which was physical, emotional and visible. Subsequent generations have struggled to hold these two apparently conflicting characteristics together. 

4) New creation and the world – Quakers have always found themselves caught between the world as it currently is, and a vision of a new creation of peace, justice and truth. How should they balance the desire to play a constructive role within the world with the need to resist its violent, unjust, and destructive ways?

Each chapter of Tangled Roots traces these tensions and the attempts to resolve them (or not) early in Quaker history and in subsequent generations and locations, right up to today. Masters recognizes that he himself and his most immediate readership live in secular liberal societies, but he always invites readers to take into account the global Quaker movement, and how different parts of that movement made or make different choices in resolving those tensions.

My hope is that this material will help Friends learn from Quaker history and their spiritual heritage, nurture their self-awareness, prompt a greater sensitivity to global Quaker diversity, and think deeply about their current faith and practice as they discern what this might look like in future.
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The careful organization of this book—applying each major theme/tension across time and across the major Quaker divisions of each time period—would, I believe, make this an ideal book for group study. I can imagine a discussion forming around such questions as "what aspects of our varied legacy was I unaware of, and which of them seem undervalued in my corner of the Quaker world," and "what conversations would I like to open with Friends who made different choices in resolving these tensions, and how might those conversations start?"


Early in his first chapter, "Inward Experience and Received Tradition," Masters states,

Friends have always practised an experimental and Spirit-led faith based on continuing revelation, making them cautious about the value of the received tradition and doctrines of the Christian Church.

First of all, it's important to consider what "caution" means. The founding generation of Quakers evidently saw themselves as returning to Christian roots. They were cautious about second-hand teachings, mediations, and ceremonies, not the raw reality of New Testament Christianity and the immediate headship of Christ.

The word "always" ("Friends have always practised...") is a strong word. Are most rank and file Quakers in their daily lives and their meetings for worship aware that they are practicing an experimental faith based on continuing revelation, and are most other Christians, by contrast, in some kind of rut? It's worth considering whether such awareness of the experimental and Spirit-led nature of our faith, and the resulting caution about second-hand Christianity, depend somewhat on our own gifts and temperaments, as would also be true in any other religious fellowship. I think the author's assertion is a valuable invitation to discuss the Quaker contribution to global spirituality, but my own caution is that some of us are overly fond of Quaker specialness. Maybe this implies another tension: the importance of knowing and cherishing our particular hard-won legacy of discipleship vs the danger of elitism, and eventual isolation and stagnation.

Working on that tension would be helpful in correcting the biases in our outreach efforts. Liberal Friends often seem to me to be appealing to the skeptics in the wider culture, signaling that among us you won't find obnoxious reminders of Christianity and the Bible. (I'm exaggerating for effect, but not much.) Little or no attention is paid to the needs of people who are joyful and enthusiastic in their faith but want to be in a trustworthy community that doesn't manipulate or dominate them, and does connect the dots between faith and ethical discipleship in the real world. Why would we not yearn to attract some of them as well?

Evangelicals often try to tease skeptics and seekers with promises of certainty (and sometimes with threats of eternal consequences for those who resist certainty). Those skeptics would be better served by our communicating readiness to listen (to them as well as to God), to let them know that their skepticism can be useful in a community that truly values accountability, and that their doubts do not disqualify them from participating in the beloved community. Skeptics and refugees from authoritarian religion don't get to veto things that they don't like, but they should be able to count on our hospitality, our deep listening, our own commitment to transparency and healing, and our undefensiveness when we've been guilty of watering down the Gospel and counting on the now-expiring privileges that Christendom has claimed in many cultures. Just as with liberal Friends, skeptics should see that evangelical Quakers really want to connect faith with ethical discipleship. And everyone needs to understand how a newcomer can become a full participant and, as their gifts blossom, a minister and leader.

A related question: Does the "always" actually refer to a specific subgroup among us—Friends who feel called to be particularly attentive to these continuities and discontinuities across the varieties of Friends? Is there another tension or divergence evident among three groups ...

  • those who are deliberately reflective about these issues (including those who produce valuable scholarship), 
  • those who are eager to defend one or another tendency or priority, and 
  • those who just want to attend church weekly in a familiar and trustworthy setting?

I see that third group as the warm-hearted majority among us who rarely think about the tensions and cautions that ultimately led to the formation of their own  regional and local congregations, but trust that they are simply gathering together in the presence of God, bringing their hopes and cares into God's Light.

What might the historians and theologians among us owe that third group? By "owe" I mean (a) serving the needs of that third group without condescension, and (b) also making the spiritual insights gained in such reflections accessible to that third group. I don't mean telling them that they are the products of tensions and compromises, and that maybe others made better or more sophisticated choices because they were more cautious about Christianity and more open to continuing revelation.

In that context, I believe Tangled Roots provides a genuine service to that group I envision as the warm-hearted majority.

Another question: As we consider the twists and turns of Quaker history and the larger context of church history, are we commenting from inside a believing community, or observing it from (at least aspirationally) an objective or phenomenological stance? If we are believers, that means we don't have to limit ourselves to dissecting recurring themes in reformation history mechanically, deducing or guessing who might have read whom (useful as that can be!), but can also attribute insights and breakthroughs in various eras to a shared influence of the Holy Spirit, Whose anointing doesn't have to follow our denominational chronologies and conceits.


Related posts:

Tom Hamm on Friends United Meeting and its identity and The FUM retreat: what did we accomplish?

Whose faith? Whose practice? Part one. Part two.

Have mercy. 

Religion and boredom.

"Are Quakers part of the Church?" 

Decline and persistence, part one. Part two.

Open hearts. On hospitality and the host/guest distinction.

Thoughts on hope and cynicism.


My Friends meeting, Reedwood Friends Church, has a program providing grants for student research, Reedwood Research Grants on Quaker SPICES. Recent grant recipients from Reed College (across the street from Reedwood) gave two remarkable presentations:

Xavier da Silva: "Sincere Faith: On Modern Lois and Timothys" (referring to 2 Timothy 1:5)

Parrish Johnson: "Study of the Sophia Christi Catholic (Womenpriest) Community."

Here's a video of their presentation:

Elderchaplain: Wonder, belovedness, and "kisses from the sun."

Mike Farley on sin, the Jesus Prayer, and the mercy of the cross.

Dmytro Vovk: Church-state relations in Ukraine, and the tendencies and hazards in post-invasion developments.


A well-loved rerun: Steve Guyger performing Jimmy Rogers' "What Have I Done?".

01 October 2026

Books of the summer, part two: Furious Minds—plus more about "less"

Hardcover (2025) and trade paperback (2027, "with a new afterward by the author"). Source.

Laura K. Field writes in her first chapter:

I have been writing about New Right intellectuals since 2019. The most common response I get when I mention this to liberals is something along the lines of “Trumpy intellectuals? Now that’s an oxymoron!” or “Hahaha, I think you mean dumb fascists!” While the impulse is understandable, it’s also mistaken and counterproductive.

Many on the left assume that the only serious reason to support the GOP has to do with finance and tax returns, and that right-wing voters are racists. But people’s motives are mixed, and America’s reactionary intellectuals are armed with more than greed and prejudice. They also have reasons and arguments that they appear to care about, whole epochs and libraries full, ready-to-hand. What the writer Matthew Rose says about the radical right is true of the New Right, too:

Almost everything written about the “alternative right” has been wrong in one respect. The alt-right is not stupid; it is deep. Its ideas are not ridiculous; they are serious. To appreciate this fact, one needs to inquire beyond its presence on social media, where its obnoxious use of insult, obscenity, and racism has earned it a reputation for moral idiocy. The reputation is deserved, but do not be deceived. Behind its online tantrums and personal attacks are arguments of seductive power.


When we went on vacation to Maine this past summer, I brought along Laura Field's compilation and guide to the intellectuals who inform and defend the MAGA occupation of the USA, Furious Minds: The Making of the MAGA New Right. I spent more time with the book than just about any other activity. The result: a book with maybe more highlighting than untouched text.

"Key people and institutions of the MAGA New Right"

The book mentions several hundred individuals, publications, podcasts, and organizations, and I'll never remember them all. I had heard of some of them—20% or so, based on a quick scan of the index—but most were new to me. They hold (and clash over) a variety of specific priorities, and indeed change their views at times, but the majority seem to agree on several basics.

Michael Anton, who was one of the first to defend Trumpism in intellectual terms, defined it in September 2016 as “secure borders, economic nationalism, and America-first foreign policy.” This is a useful shorthand that captures some of the fundamentals. The New Right is indeed, with very few exceptions, anti-immigration. It stands against free trade and globalism. And it represents a turn against the neoconservative interventionism in foreign affairs that characterized the first part of the twenty-first century. But if those are the ribs of the New Right’s politics, Anton’s formulation hides the spine, which is a staunch social traditionalism and rejection of liberal pluralism and egalitarianism; in other words, the various New Right policy prongs are organized around a traditionalist (usually white, Christian, and patriarchal) social vision and homogenizing nationalism meant to counter and replace pluralistic liberalism. The New Right views mainstream liberal America—the “woke” America that embraces plurality and equality, including across various formerly marginalized identities—as an all-encompassing, monolithic “regime” of elite oppression (which they often also refer to as the “enemy”). Culture warriorism—which we might define as an excessive emphasis on rhetoric and media performance over policy formulation and real-world political negotiation—plays a major role on the New Right because at bottom this is a movement driven by reactionary social values and principles, not specific policy concerns.

The movement also varies in its political extremism, but a frequent point of agreement is that the New Right must not count on winning elections. One way or another, it must take over and establish permanent rule. There is no place for pluralism in these visions.

Field's ability to deliver intense research, made more readable with lively bits of humor and self-disclosure, and with allusions to classical literature, reminded me of the Quaker classicist Sarah Ruden. I appreciated the ways Field lived up to her Chapter One pledge to approach her subjects seriously and with fairness, conceding the point when New Right commentators made valid criticisms of today's liberal failures and intellectual laziness. She also recounts the role conservatives such as Leon Craig and the influence of Leo Strauss had in her own education.

I don't feel qualified to give her book a full and competent review, though I can testify that it is absorbing reading. The coverage of religious influences—Catholic integralism, Calvinists, the New Apostolic Reformation—is well done. In lieu of a more complete assessment on my part, here are links to a positive review in The Atlantic, a very negative review in the Claremont Review of Books written by Michael Anton, one of the people she wrote about, and her lively reply to that negative review. Enjoy ... if that's the right word.


But wait, there's even more! 

Ellerie Brownfain had some helpful comments on last week's post, But wait!... With her permission, I'm posting those comments here:

Your blog post is spot on. It is light and lovely and beautifully written. I especially enjoyed how it begins with the Bible and that joyful refrain of "But wait, there's more!" From there you carry the reader through the whole story of the church to where Friends find ourselves today. That is a great deal of ground to cover with such a gentle touch.

Your "But wait, there's less!" made me smile and then gave me much to think about. I appreciate writing that does both.

I was recently in Germany walking around in Reformation history. So I could not help noticing a few points you may wish to consider.

Your list reads as though each movement waited politely for the one before to finish. They did not. Luther posted his 95 Theses in 1517. Within a few short years the Radical Reformation was already underway right alongside him. These movements grew up together like siblings and squabbled like them too. The first Anabaptists were Zwingli's own students in Zurich. They decided their teacher had not gone nearly far enough. Teachers everywhere will sympathize.

Poor Zwingli seems to have been left off the guest list. He came before Calvin and did a great deal of the "less." He became the people's priest in Zurich in 1519 and started preaching straight through the Gospel of Matthew. No set readings. Just the Bible in plain Swiss German. His reform really took off in 1522 over a plate of sausages. Some of his friends ate them during Lent. Zwingli was there and did not eat but he defended them from the pulpit. That may be the only time sausages started a reformation.

From there things moved quickly. The city council held public debates and sided with Zwingli. In 1524 the church walls in Zurich were whitewashed of all images. The organs were silenced as well. By 1525 the Mass was gone and the Lord's Supper became a simple memorial meal served at plain tables.

Luther was not about to let that go. In 1529 Prince Philip of Hesse invited them both to his castle at Marburg. Philip was a Protestant prince with a Catholic problem. The emperor Charles V wanted everyone back in the Roman fold, and Philip hoped a united front might change his mind. So he gave the two reformers room and board and hoped for the best. Luther and Zwingli agreed on fourteen points and parted over the fifteenth, which was the Lord's Supper. The story goes that Luther chalked "This is my body" on the table and kept pointing at it. Friends would say they never found the sense of the meeting. Philip was left without his alliance. One can only imagine how dinner went.

Zwingli's end is a sobering one for Friends. In 1531 he rode out with the Zurich army against the Catholic cantons and was killed at Kappel. His own students the Anabaptists had already refused the sword. So the removal of sacred images might sit more comfortably in your section with Zwingli and Calvin. And the peace testimony has an older family tree than we sometimes remember.

Luther also kept more than we tend to remember. The Lutherans held on to altars and images and vestments and much of the old liturgy. Some of them even kept their bishops.

The early English Baptists did write confessions of faith. The best known are from 1644 and 1689. As you say, "soul competency" came later. It was an American Baptist named E. Y. Mullins who gave it that name in 1908. The English root of that idea is Thomas Helwys. In 1612 he wrote to King James asking freedom of conscience for everyone. The king answered by putting him in prison where he died. Many early Friends came out of the General Baptists who followed Helwys. So in a way they are our cousins.

I was especially moved by your closing. Meeting seekers with open and searching conversation.

— Ellerie Brownfain


Added Friday: A "Big Read" online book conversation with Defying Tyrants author Matthew Taylor on October 8 (two days after the book is released; you get a free excerpt when you register). I commented on his previous book, The Violent Take It By Force, in this blog post: Enthusiasm and politics.

Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor on a secular vision of end times, courtesy of the mega-rich. Serious question: is this a fair article?

The AP's Evelyne Musambi on the "loud" Quakers in Kenya.

"Treat me like a human." Eric Trump and Josephine Johnston on the prescience of one of my favorite films, Children of Men.

Elderchaplain Greg Morgan is Remembering Bruce.

A farewell post "of sorts" from Tom Engelhardt (but not the end of TomDispatch!).


Denmark's Delta Blues Band, "Come On in my Kitchen," featuring Miriam Mandipira.

24 September 2026

But wait! ...

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I recently watched a sermon by Terry Anderson, pastor of Lilly Grove Missionary Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. His theme: "Hardship on the Way Home." My feelings about the full sermon are complex, but I really appreciated his closing, which was a mini-sermon in its own right. It gave me some thoughts about Quakers. Here's how he began the closing (I've edited lightly) ...

I'm through now [closing his Bible], but there's more beyond.

I was watching an infomercial the other day and they were selling knives or whatever it is they were selling and they they said if you buy it at a certain time you get two for the price of one, and when the commercial was almost over, he said, "Wait, there's more! If you buy it at this price I'll give you four more at the same price." 

... But wait, there's more! (You're going to help me close with this one thing.) If there's anybody here this morning believing that this all that this life is all there is to it, I'm through now.

... But wait, there's more! Eyes have not seen ears have not heard, neither has it entered the hearts of men the good things that God has in store for them that love him.

... But wait, there's more! God shall wipe all tears from their eyes and there shall be no more deaths nor crying, for the former things are passed away.

... But wait, there's more! There's a tree bearing fruit, and the leaves on the tree are good for the healing of the nations. That's one kind of fruit in January and another kind of fruit in February and if you don't get there until March there's another kind of fruit in March. If you don't get there until April there's another kind of fruit in April.

... But wait, there's more! God himself has more. God has a rainbow around his shoulder to absorb the light of his presence, that the saints will get a chance to behold his face.

... But wait, there's more! Abraham is there, Isaac, and Jacob is there, (anybody here help me preach here a minute), Moses and David, Jacob and Nehu. There's more, I tell you. There's Paul and Silas. That's Matthew and Mark, Luke, and John.

... But wait, there's more! There's Rebecca and Sarah, there's Deborah and Ruth. That's Naomi and Elimelech.

... But wait, there's more! My mother is over there, my father is over there, I got some family over there.

... But wait, there's more! I see a number that no man can number coming from the north, from the south, from the east and the west….

So now I totally admit that it's comparing apples and oranges, but sometimes the Protestant historical stream we find ourselves in as Friends might evoke a different refrain: "But wait, there's less!"

... But wait, there's less! The Lutherans rejected the leadership and hierarchy based in Rome, along with five of the seven sacraments, the doctrine of purgatory, and obligatory use of the Latin language. Ordinary church members gradually gained access to the Bible in their own languages.

... But wait, there's less! The Radical Reformation rejected infant baptism and brought us baptism at the age of decision. Also, they opposed the enmeshment of church and state (in most cases) and rejected state violence. They eliminated sacred images, and ended the use of oaths to "swear" the truth.

... But wait, there's less! The Calvinists emphasized the role of elders in church government rather than bishops, simplified church furniture and altars, and eliminated saints' days and most other feast days from the church calendar. 

... But wait, there's less! The English Puritans (inside and outside the Church of England) rejected common prayer books and other set liturgies, and continued to reduce or eliminate church hierarchies. Many of them challenged compulsory clerical garb, such as vestments.

... But wait, there's less! The English Baptists incorporated most or all of the preceding "there's less!" developments ... affirming baptism at the age of personal confession of faith, and reducing adherence to formal theological creeds as a condition of fellowship, in favor of what became the concept of "soul competency." Baptists rejected any remaining vestiges of a parish system or payment of tithes to the state church.

... But wait, there's less! Early Quakers did not observe any outward sacraments, even as they pleaded for the inward spiritual realities represented by baptism and communion. There was no paid or ordained clergy, although Friends voluntarily supported a vigorous ad hoc movement of evangelists and missionaries. For the first half of our history, worship consisted solely of communal prayer, without pre-arranged elements, and with vocal participation (at least theoretically) based on the Holy Spirit's immediate inspiration of anyone present. The church was the people; their buildings, when they had them, were "meetinghouses." They contributed to the end of slavery, although perhaps less than we now give them credit for.

(This "there's less!" listing is admittedly an oversimplification of complex and overlapping historical developments! See Ellerie Brownfain's comments in next week's post—scroll down to But wait, there's even more!)

... But wait, where does the "there's less" end? Each round of reformers felt that the elimination of structures and traditions strengthened Spirit-led discipleship. In many cases, the old structures also continued to exist, resulting in political tensions, even civil wars.

Reformers often saw themselves as confronting corruption and nominalism. As their causes advanced, their advocacy of the rights of individual believers also arguably weakened any concept of a global Christian movement.

... But wait, there's less! Some Friends became positively anti-ecumenical, apparently believing that we were more advanced than the rest of Christianity, even as our numbers began to shrink.

... But wait, there's less! Some of us welcomed new insights into the Bible's formation and interpretation, thereby gaining appreciation for its role in daily discernment, but others questioned whether the Bible was even all that necessary.

... But wait, there's less! George Fox taught that "Christ has come to teach his people himself," and early Quakers experienced this amazing Reality for themselves. Now some Friends aren't sure they knew what they were talking about, or were perhaps captives of their own limited worldview and vocabulary, in comparison to our own obviously advanced views where Christ is optional.

... But wait, what's left? Worldwide, most Friends remain faithful to our Christian and biblical roots, but instead of continuing to explore the rich discipleship experiences of those early Friends, have sometimes felt more comfortable importing elements from generic evangelicalism.

If all we Quakers had left were a choice between a smug sort of boutique Quakerism and a hybrid evangelicalism, with little evidence of growth in this time of worldwide crisis, I'd be pretty bummed. But I see evidence that, here and there, new people are visiting us and asking what we have to offer. (I've personally seen this in several widely separate places.) Have you seen this, too?

When we are lucky enough to meet such seekers, I'd like us to consider not answering with another formulaic expression of how wonderful we are, but entering into some searching conversations about what our visitors are looking for and why; how this present age is treating and challenging them; and what they dared hope we might all do together.

Then, we might be in a position to say, prayerfully and with honest hope,

... But wait, there's more!


One of the channels we Quakers have to consider how to meet seekers' questions and hopes is the Friends World Committee for Consultation, sponsors of World Quaker Day. FWCC is one way we can meet the danger of an unintentional drift apart from each other. (Disclaimer: I worked for FWCC for ten years, so I'm not exactly unbiased!)

Some of what I've seen on the growing edge of Friends reminds me of Lamorna Ash's observations.


Yurii Sheliazhenko offers a "Concise Quaker guide to the Bible" in Ukrainian and English.

Paul Parker on "Unleashing the everyday prophet," presented on the Daily Quaker Web site (which I recommend supporting).

Quakers in Britain joined a Jamaican delegation for reparation talks.

Scotty Utz in Friends Journal on "beating guns" and the Guns to Gardens Movement. The article includes a link to a Quaker Talk video interview.

More on Live Laugh Love: Author Kristin Du Mez's article in the New York Times and the work of the photographer/illustrator Francesca Hummler. Du Mez: "I didn’t see the images until today’s story published, and I was blown away." Post includes gift link to the article in the NYT.

FRIDAY UPDATE: Live Laugh Love is #5 on the NYT nonfiction bestseller list.


Mavis Staples and Bonnie Raitt, "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?"

17 September 2026

Books of the summer, part one: Ghost Stories

Before I get to the book, allow me just a few comments on this blog.

This post is number 1,200 since I began posting weekly 22 years ago. More often than I'd like to admit, I'm repeating myself, saying things (maybe slightly differently) that I already said five, ten, twenty years ago.

When I catch myself doing this, it makes me think about posting less frequently, maybe on a less rigid schedule. Back in the days when blogs were more fashionable, it was conventional wisdom that posting with a reliable frequency was a must. But there are now lots of ways to announce a new post, and regularity may not be as important. What do you think?

Several people have suggested another idea: creating a book out of (a few of!) these 1,200 posts. Instead of unintentionally repeating myself, I could deliberately weave together those apparently important recurring themes into chapters.

I'm not under any pressure (that I know of) to decide these things, so on to today's comments on the first of my favorite books of summer 2026.


I've been reading Siri Hustvedt's novels for about thirty years. It took me a lot longer to get acquainted with Paul Auster.  At some point I vaguely realized that Hustvedt and Auster were a married couple, but now, reading Ghost Stories: A Memoir, I'm finally getting a sense of what that marriage of two dedicated and celebrated writers contributed to each of them, and to us readers.

Both writers realized as teenagers that they wanted literature and writing to be at the center of their lives. The 43 years of their marriage covered the whole of Auster's life as a published writer. Hustvedt was also writing fiction and nonfiction that whole time, during which they were each other's intimate collaborators, in constant conversation.

Mostly, Paul and I talked to each other, in the house, on walks, and when we traveled together to one place or another. When we were apart, we talked on the telephone every night if we could. Our marriage was a dialogue, the precise wording of which is mostly lost to memory. I’m glad I saved his little notes to me, from the very first one—Dear S. I have recorded some of them in this book, my book of mourning him. Writing is action. Sentence by sentence, block of prose by block of prose, I have tried to bring something of the man back on the page, something of who he was for me.

Toward the end of this moving, sorrowful, sometimes playful, and endlessly affectionate book, after Siri Hustvedt describes and documents her husband's last months and days and moments, considers what immortality may or may not be, quotes Auster's letters to his then-grandbaby, reveals the tumultuous start of their relationship, and describes sensations of his presence happening even as she sits there writing...

... she says this:

And I say it again. Paul Auster, my husband of forty-three years, is dead, and I can’t get him back, not as I want him, not as a breathing, heart-beating, warm-as-a-furnace body in our bed, not as a fully visible man smiling that slight smile at me, the one touched by irony, the smile that was as good as an exaggerated wink across a room because I knew him. The Blue Team boy, that outstanding fellow who became a famous writer, is dead. But I’m alive, and I’m a creature of us, of AND, of Bartleby and the Princess on the Pea; of slapstick; demented luggage; the Plenum of Problems Theory; the organic model of erotic love; sea creatures and small whales. We wrote out the dreams we dreamed while we sat at our desks writing, and we read those dreams aloud to each other in the green chairs.

If not all of those references are immediately clear (for example, the "demented luggage" and "of AND"), they're all explained in turn in the preceding pages. May they help tempt you to read this beautiful memorial to an endlessly fertile love.

Paul Auster died on April 30, 2024.

On April 27, Paul said he wanted to come back as a ghost.

I am telling ghost stories.


Review of Ghost Stories: A Memoir in The Guardian.


PS: A book I've already reviewed,  Live Laugh Love: The Secret History of White Christian Women and the World They Made, by historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez, has now been released. My recommendation stands.

Here's a link to publisher's description of the book; and to Kristine Johnson's helpful review and road map.


Mimi Marstaller on refreshed Quaker practices with deep roots: "Here's what happened last Sunday," part one, at Portland (Maine) Friends Meeting. Part two: Zoom worship.

Sarah Thomas Baldwin on "How to belong at church." I've sometimes wondered about that myself....

We can exchange being known or belonging for fitting in. There’s a lot of “fitting in” in Christian circles. But fitting in means “I have to become more like you” in order to earn a place at the table.

Belonging means I can be me and still have a seat beside you.

Elderchaplain Greg Morgan: "We All Deserve Dignity."

J. Michael Luttig's warning to U.S. midterm voters and all defenders of democracy, via Heather Cox Richardson.

Climate Desk: The USA's Environmental "Protection" Agency has "announced a final plan Monday that guts the 2024 Carbon Pollution Standards."

EPA spokespersons did not respond to a request for comment about what science they are using to support the claim that greenhouse gas emissions don’t contribute significantly to dangerous air pollution.


Sue Foley, "Southern Men." (Recorded in Canada....)

10 September 2026

Can we believe?

John Woolman (source); Sarah Paine (source).

We were taught by renewed experience to labor for an inward stillness; at no time to seek for words, but to live in the spirit of truth, and utter that to the people which truth opened in us.

— John Woolman's Journal.

In the United States, if we continue normalizing lying, and allowing our leaders to just do it flagrantly, it's another sign of precipitous national decline.

— Sarah Paine, "America is repeating the exact mistakes that destroyed the Soviets."

I've spent much of the day thinking about "truth."

Not about every possible aspect of truth, I admit, but one aspect in particular: what we are doing when we are asserting something, and we have a vested interest in being believed.

Back in the seventeenth century, we Quakers sometimes referred to ourselves as "publishers of Truth" with a capital T. Those Friends were in fact eager to publish a particular Truth that they believed they had experienced, that "Christ has come to teach his people himself."

This assertion would be correctly classified by philosophers as objectively "unverifiable," although these early Quakers were simply testifying to their conversion experiences. Furthermore, they believed that their lives needed to be in accord with this experience. Therefore, they rejected violence, hierarchy, luxury, ceremony—in their church lives, in their civic roles, and in their individual lives. In making these assertions about God and about the consequent (verifiable) changes in their lives and practices, they risked ridicule, persecution, even loss of life.

How do you decide whether this or that public assertion is true? In a scientific context, we can ask whether we can make and test predictions based on that assertion. In civil society, we can ask about the credibility of speakers, and whether the promises or predictions they make are verifiable. But probably in all cases, the first thing we test or try to detect is this: are they speaking in good faith?—

  • do they have a history of speaking thoughtfully?
  • are they open about their motives and agendas?
  • are they open to follow-up conversations, to corrections or additional input to consider?
  • do they threaten dire consequences if their assertions are challenged?
  • who directs and finances their access to the public arena?

As Sarah Paine says, a culture of lying had fatal consequences for the USSR, and we should not tolerate such a culture here.


Just as we are being swamped by daily dumps of lies from the USA's president and his cheerleaders and true believers, our task of discerning and defending truth is becoming even more complicated. Artificial intelligence offers us many services, but among those services is the ability to generate and broadcast believable lies in just about every form of communication, with whatever gradation on the spectrum of lies, and, if so commanded, to do this with fake or stolen personalities and fake locations.

The motives and methods of such lying are not new. Sadly, lying has been part of American politics from the very beginning, despite our claiming to be founded on "self-evident" truths. The difference now might be the scale, with all its consequences: leaving part of our population through waves of ginned-up outrage; driving others into retreat from public involvement; and moving still others into taking up the challenge of, once again, publishing Truth.

One of the AI users in our circle sent us this fake ad for a breakfast cereal. What was interesting to me was his very simple prompts: a box of cereal on a grocery shelf, with a genuine photo of Slavoj Žižek. All of the text on this fake ad was generated by AI.

Take this offhand humorous and harmless little side-project and scale it up to carry serious messages and urgent commands, attractively and believably crafted, to audiences of thousands and millions, scooping up additional technological resources as it goes, blocking warnings and creating a firestorm of confusion. Perhaps this is one of the channels that those warning about possible AI-driven extinction events have in mind.

We do have a history of countering falsehood. Let's invite people into communities where we listen intently for truth, experiencing the power Woolman referred to (and uttering to the people only that "... which truth opened in us...."—truth is active), and speaking that truth in season and out of season accordingly. And when we individually tire, as we inevitably will at times, we can spell each other. We can eagerly extend our quest for truth by having conversations all over the planet with people similarly interested in listening, waiting, testing, and ultimately blessing everyone.

The power of truth-centered community life may not convince the world that Christ has come to teach his people himself, or that we have all our doctrines exactly right, but they may be able to verify a crucial first step: we speak in good faith.


From 17 years ago: Publishers of Truth.


One of the documents I stumbled on in searching for "truth": a glossary of terms useful for describing information disorder.

Phil Gulley on the truth will out. "The longer I live, the more I quote my mother."

Ron Hogan urges us to proclaim the message.

"Vote safe"? Elon Musk is funding a voting information site that sounds helpful, but... there are "hidden dangers." Snopes did some checking of their own.

A Multwood celebration, October 3, in Portland, Oregon: enjoying and honoring a case study of conversation across Quaker lines.


My favorite part of the funeral of King Harald V, yesterday, in Oslo, Norway. "Abide With Me." (Here's full coverage of the event.)

27 August 2026

Can we go back to the Garden?

... a lakeside conversation on George Fox’s letters


A guest post by Judy Maurer


A lakeside conversation.

A week ago we sat with old friends on the shore of a lake in Maine, my husband and I. We were only a few feet from where my great-grandfather pitched a tent and built a lean-to cook-shack to fish for a month each year.

I’ve spent time here most every summer since I was a baby. In a profound way, this is home.

Our conversation with our friends, Ben and Jody Richmond, that day turned to Ben’s new book on George Fox’s epistles. Fox inspired Quakerism back in the seventeenth century, during the turmoil of the English Civil War and its aftermath.

Ben had read these epistles deeply and came to recognize a lyrical quality in them. He formatted selections like poetry, so we could hear the cadence, too.

I had brought the book out with me to the shore. My copy was bristling with bookmarks. I picked it up and told him which was my favorite epistle. Jody said, “Read it aloud. It was written to be read aloud.”

So I read to them, and to the chipmunks and ducks along the shoreline and the loons farther out, George Fox’s Epistle 163, with the line and paragraph breaks Ben had given it:

My dear friends,—

Live
in the life
in which is the unity and peace
one with another,

and lowliness and humbleness
of heart and mind....

And so,
this is the word of the Lord God
to you all:

live
in the power of the Lord God,
in which
is peace, love, unity,
and dominion

in the life
and power of God,
which was before enmity was;

and in the light,
which was before darkness was;

and in the life,
which was before death was:

and so, in that
feel unity and life
in the power of God.

And so, the seed of God
feel over all that set,
which makes to suffer;

which was before it was,
and will remain
when that is all gone.

And so,
feel the top-stone over all laid,
that his life ye may feel over all,

and in that live.

I asked Ben about the repetition of “was before”, as in “which was before darkness was.”

His answer was fascinating. I asked him to say it all over again, and this time I’d record it. Ben collected himself and began again. I’ve lightly edited his words.

If you go through Fox's journal, and you go through the letters, you find that this language of returning to Eden—life before death, light before darkness—is there throughout Fox's writings.

Fox is inviting us to experience life before the Fall. I think it’s a real through-line in all of Fox's writing.

Over the years, as I've looked at it, I've found out that the language of entering back into the Garden of Eden, of being in "the light before darkness was"—"which was before enmity was"—is picking up the same theme. It’s a way of understanding salvation that has content for our life today.

Ben's book, bristling with tabs.

Sitting listening to Ben, part of me was flipping through Genesis 2 and 3 in my mind. God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil; the Snake tempts her; she and Adam eat it; God gets angry, throws them out of the Garden and puts down a flaming sword.

Ben continued:

The whole business about coming back through the flaming sword into the paradise of God, and the possibility of living that life now, struck me as really just powerful and wonderful. And I went around being excited about that for quite a while, and then I realized that I had no idea what it meant!

It occurred to me that it'd make a great topic for some biblical workshops. So I did with different groups of Friends an exercise where we would read Genesis 2 and 3 and I would ask them to brainstorm what was characteristic before the Fall and what was characteristic after the Fall.

Wonderful conversations came out of that. But what was really fun for me was that from that, you could often derive what we call Quaker testimonies.

The first "not good" statement is in Genesis 2. It’s God saying that it was not good for Adam to be alone. He didn't have someone who could be a real helpmeet for him. After the fall, one of the curses is for Eve—"your desire will be for the man, and He will rule over you."

So here is the testimony of women’s equality, and also community, because we aren’t to live alone, but to live together with others.

People start talking about these things, and suddenly the picture emerges of a life that is countercultural and we recognize it as being good. Well, that is so amazing!

At this point Johan brought up his blog post on Ben’s book. He read aloud from Fox’s epistle 291 “To All Women’s Meetings,” as Ben presents it:

Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, were the first preachers of Christ's resurrection to the disciples, and the disciples could not believe their message and testimony that they had from Jesus, as some now-a-days cannot; but they received the command, and being sent preached it.

So is every woman and man to do, that sees him risen, and has the command and message; daughters shall prophesy as well as sons.

So they are to be obedient that have the Spirit poured upon them; women are to prophesy. And prophecy is not to be quenched. They that have the testimony of Jesus are commanded to keep it, whether men or women….

Then Johan skipped down a few paragraphs.

So both men and women be helpsmeet in the image of God, in the righteousness and holiness, in the restoration.

What we’re set on this planet to do

“Adam and Eve do eat of the fruit of the tree—the tree of the knowledge of good and evil," Ben continued. 

It's really important that we remember that it's not just the tree of knowledge, as if being knowledgeable about things was a really bad idea. It's the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” 

It's talking about moral knowledge and moral decision-making. It’s about who gets to decide what is to be termed good and what's to be termed bad. In the creation story every day it was "God looked and saw that it was good."

Then God creates humankind, and that's very good. The Man-creature Adam is lonely and that's bad. But God gets to make that decision as to what's good and what's bad.

Knowledge itself, and creativity and all that, in this story is a good thing. It's what we're set on this planet to do, to till the garden and to name the animals and to do all the kind of stuff that makes life interesting.

But then there's this interesting phrase about "in the cool of the evening they heard the sound of the voice walking through the Garden."

That proximity to God, to hearing the voice of God, is central. It’s also central that the phrase "in the cool of the evening" can also be translated "at the time of the moving of the Spirit." It's talking about the ruach, a Hebrew word for the Spirit. Ruach also means the breeze. The "cool of the evening" is a poetic translation of "the breeze," which is Spirit.

It makes me really happy when I think about that, to say when we return to the Garden, we return to that time, which we experience now as the moving of the Spirit. We have the living voice of God coming into us. Sometimes in our quiet worship and other times in life, we recognize: that's the voice of God.

And that's the whole point, to get back in touch with that voice of God that makes Eden, Eden. 

So in Fox's Journal, the experience of going through the flaming sword into the paradise of God would be available to all who receive or obey Christ.

And I reply, "That's terrific. That's even better the second time. Maybe we should go through this a third time!"

Ben’s book, Poetry and Passion of the Lamb’s War: From the Epistles of George Fox, is available on Barclay Press and Amazon. Reedwood’s own Paul Anderson wrote a preface to the book. Paul’s usual clear and enlightening style of writing serves us well here.

Paul wrote,

From poetry to prophecy, as we hear and read some of the most salient missives of George Fox, their meanings then and now produce a ‘homecoming festival’ within us and among us.

Ben has included for each epistle a short introductory note as well as scriptures that find an echo in the epistle.

Judy's article was originally written for Reedwood Friends Church's monthly periodical The Glance. Crossposted with permission.


Friends Incubator for Public Ministry: "Supporting Ministry through Scripture and Imagination," an online series of seven guided meditations and worship-sharing sessions, begins this coming Sunday.

Tributes to Dolly Parton from the Literary Hub and Diana Butler Bass.

Happy 21st birthday to Mike Farley's The Mercy Blog. While you're there, enjoy his reflections (with Cynthia Bourgeault's help) on grace, contemplative practice, and wordlessness.

Jemar Tisby: Why the church needs a theology of history.


Speaking of grace, here's McKinley James's version of "Let Me In."

20 August 2026

More on Quakers and Japan

Crown Prince Akihito and Elizabeth Gray Vining, 1949.

The chief reason why I wanted to come [to Japan] is that in her new constitution Japan has renounced war as an instrument of national policy. Other nations must follow. I believe that out of her great suffering and defeat Japan will draw a new strength and a new vision that will enable her to lead the world in ways of peace.

You are the generation that will have to do it.... I come to you in friendship and in the hope that I can take a small share in helping your many distinguished teachers to prepare you for your great task.

— Elizabeth Gray Vining, speaking to Crown Prince Akihito's school class at the beginning of her service. (Windows for the Crown Prince, 1952.)


In a couple of recent posts, I've touched on the relationships among diverse Quakers and the country of Japan (the country where my mom was born and raised). Back in July, Sergei Grushko's article mentioned Japanese students at Quaker colleges during World War II, and then my Hiroshima-Nagasaki post went on to summarize a few more connections.

Those few instances of U.S. Quakers serving in Japan or serving Japanese people made me wonder whether there has ever been a full-length study of that history. The relationship between the Quaker movement in Japan and Philadelphia Yearly Meeting seems to be well-covered in the recent book Friendly Connections: Philadelphia Quakers and Japan Since the Late Nineteenth Century. I've not read this book (it's on my wishlist!... price $156) but the review in Friends Journal gives an idea of its scope. It includes accounts of Elizabeth Gray Vining's and Esther Rhoads's roles in the education of Crown Prince (now Emperor Emeritus) Akihito.

(I highly recommend Vining's own account of her years as his tutor, and how that engagement came about.)

What might understandably be less emphasized in a Philadelphia-centered account is the major role of Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana, in building and maintaining Quaker relationships with Japan over the last 140 years. During our years in Richmond, when I was a student at Earlham School of Religion and and Judy worked with Earlham's East Asian studies program, we got to know three of the people who contributed to those relationships—professors Jackson Bailey and Len Holvik, and Earlham's president Landrum Bolling. Jackson Bailey (nephew of biblical scholar Moses Bailey) had been a conscientious objector who served as a cook in the U.S. occupation forces in Japan. As Chuck Yates says in the Earlham brochure, "The History of Japan at Earlham,"

Deeply impacted by his time in Japan, Bailey dedicated his life to improving relations between Japanese and Americans. In his over thirty years of labor, he did not quite succeed in creating a world where war and its sorrows are impossible, but there are certainly thousands of people on both sides of the Pacific for whom those things are now unthinkable, thanks to Jack’s efforts.

(Forgive another personal aside: One of my most vivid memories of Earlham was from 1983. A graduation reception brought together Jackson Bailey, his uncle Moses Bailey, and British Quaker writer Elfrida Vipont Foulds. Foulds gave the commencement address at the graduation itself, and received an honorary doctorate. Her speech was an amazing blend of pastoral advice and storytelling which managed to captivate an audience of students and families whose highest priority had not been to sit and listen to a speech!)

The relationships of Friends and Japan on the Philadelphia track and on the Earlham track may seem to run separately and parallel, but there's considerable overlap. For just a couple of examples:

Thomas Jones of Fairmount, Indiana, married Esther Balderston of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting in 1917, and both served as Quaker missionaries in Japan under that yearly meeting until 1924. Thomas Jones later served as president of Fisk University and then Earlham College. Son T. Canby Jones, whom we knew as a professor at Wilmington College, was born in Japan. Canby's education was in the Philadelphia orbit, at Westtown School and Haverford College, before going off to Yale.

Esther Rhoads, Crown Prince Akihito's second Quaker tutor, is another bridge person between Philadelphia Friends and Earlham. Since Friends from both of these tracks of Japan-Quaker history were involved with Tokyo Friends School, there are probably many similar overlap stories waiting to be chronicled in a more comprehensive history. Maybe such a history has already been written, and I simply haven't found it. If you know of such a resource, please share....

And if the book Friendly Connections itself has more about Earlham than the review suggests, let me know that, too.


My own Quaker journey began in 1974. I joined Friends in Ottawa Meeting (unprogrammed, generally liberal), but within a year or so I found out about programmed Friends and a Quaker culture that was relatively more Bible-oriented than most Canadian Friends were. I found it easy to move between these different Quaker cultures, but found many Friends in each barely knew (or actually did not know) that the others existed.

Having read the accounts of U.S. Quakers and Japan, I wonder whether, several generations earlier, relations between "orthodox" Quakers in (say) Indiana and Quakers in the eastern yearly meetings were far more routine and relaxed than they've seemed during my time ... despite the lack of today's mobility and Internet channels. What might have reduced that earlier overlap? Among the totally unsubstantiated theories I've come up with was the consequences of the end of the series of organizations known most recently as the Young Friends of North America, a movement that at its height brought together young adult Quakers from all over the continent. 

Another theory: when the yearly meetings that had divided in the 19th century began reuniting, this may have had the unintended and perverse effect of accentuating the theological differences in the larger U.S. Quaker landscape. For a possible case study, see Ruth Pitman's "The 1955 Union and the Future of Friends."

Or, on the third hand, maybe we're simply talking about changes in patterns among what was always a small subset of Friends—those who are fascinated or inspired by the Quaker movement as a whole rather than prioritizing their faithfulness to the nearby communities they know best. God knows we need both priorities, and perhaps we move back and forth from one to the other as we go through life. Again, your thoughts are most welcome.


Visiting my mother's school in Kobe.


Jack Kirk. Source.

Max Carter remembers the late Jack Kirk. Max writes that Jack was the "consummate encourager..." which was exactly my experience. Jack encouraged me through some concrete terrors, including my first sermon in public, when my Quaker Hill Bookstore boss Fred Boots asked me to substitute for him at Paoli Friends. Jack also shepherded me through my first writings for Quaker Life during his editorship there. His obituary reveals that he, too, found it congenial to move between Philadelphia Yearly Meeting and pastoral Friends. Despite the sad occasion, I find it impossible to look at his photo without smiling. I can just hear him saying, "Let's key in on the central issues...."

Brian Drayton pays tribute to writer and documentary filmmaker John Crowley.

Turns out that Julia Curlee, CIA analyst and provider of presidential briefings, was the wrong kind of American. "The White House needed me—until the fact that I am trans became public."

Daily Quaker Message, from Thomas R. Kelly: "It takes no time, but it occupies all our time."

Philip Gulley knows what faith is and isn't. "While I don’t always have faith, I do know faith when I see it."


Whitehorse and a mighty fine editor, "Come On In My Kitchen."

06 August 2026

Hiroshima-Nagasaki shorts

(left) Urakami Cathedral cross, Nagasaki, on display at Wilmington College's Hiroshima-Nagasaki Memorial Collection until 2019 (my photo); (right) graphic from Wilmington College's Peace Resource Center (source).

Last week's post considered some of the political and spiritual difficulties World War II posed for Quaker colleges in the USA. Among the specifics of that story was the welcome that those colleges extended to a group of Japanese American students whose families had been forced into relocation camps by the notorious Executive Order 9066.

Thanks to an article posted today on the Web site of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, "The political implications of Hiroshima’s scarred 'maidens'," by Alex Wellerstein, I've been thinking about other Quaker involvements with Japanese and Japanese Americans—and the nuclear bombings—originating in that war.

First in chronological order were American Quakers who had special ties to Japan before the war, and who became advocates for the incarcerated Japanese and Japanese American families in wartime. The case I knew best was Herbert Nicholson, whose nephew Ed Nicholson used to tell us stories about his uncle. 

(Ed died in 2018, and his wife of 63 years, Chris Nicholson, just died this past July 29. Aside from many other ties between the Nicholsons and Judy and me, they were great encouragers of our service in Russia.)

Another Quaker advocate for incarcerated Japanese people and their families was Floyd Schmoe of University Friends Meeting in Seattle. After the war ended, he expressed his concern for war-torn Japan and the consequences of the atomic weapons by beginning a project called Houses for Hiroshima. Of all the people mentioned in these stories, Floyd was the only one I met personally, thanks to my work with Friends World Committee in the 1980's.

The "Hiroshima 'maidens'" story mentioned above, published in the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, also had a Quaker connection. During the young women's stay in the USA for plastic surgery, they were accommodated by Quaker families, and spent time at Pendle Hill in Wallingford, Pennsylvania. More details in this Wikipedia article. 

Those years—the 1950's—were a peak time for hydrogen bomb testing in the Pacific Ocean, which led to a series of protests against those tests, the weapons being tested, and the radioactive pollution resulting from the tests. Barbara Reynolds and her husband Earle were among those who sailed into the test zones in protest. She later established the Hiroshima-Nagasaki Memorial Collection at Wilmington College in Ohio, USA, part of the college's Peace Resource Center. Judy and I got to know and appreciate the work of this center during the years we lived in Wilmington.

One of the remarkable exhibits in the Hiroshima-Nagasaki Memorial Collection was a charred cross from the ruins of the Urakami Cathedral in Nagasaki. In 2019, as described in this Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists post, the director of the Peace Resource Center, Tanya Maus, accompanied the cross on its journey home to Nagasaki.

There is a gap in this very brief summary: the experiences of Japanese Quakers themselves during the war. The only Japanese Quaker meeting I've personally attended, the one in Osaka, was founded after the war. I have family ties to Japan—my mother was born and raised in Kobe—but, sadly, those ties don't connect with Quakers. My mother, having survived the war and eventually moving to Germany and then the USA, never spoke to me about her war years. Her primary political concern in my childhood years was the threat of Communism.

I'd love to have more examples of connections among these themes—Quakers, Japan and Japanese people, and World War II. Please share additions and corrections.

God bless the memory of those who risked everything for peace and justice in those brutal years.


I mentioned our own short visit to Hiroshima here.

Nagasaki shorts.

Why I got sour on Hiroshima-Nagasaki commemorative events. (I'm not necessarily proud of it....)

David Harrington Watt and Marian Ronan in Friends Journal: "The work continues: Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the struggle against nuclear weapons."

A Wikipedia summary of the debate for and against the use of atomic bombs in World War II.

Nuclear History: Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and the stories we must never forget—an online presentation by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Tuesday, August 18, 10:15 a.m. U.S. Central Time via YouTube.


Ezra Klein talks with Jasmin Sun about the peculiar challenges of campaigning for and against AI-related data centers.

Kathryn James: "Why is Anthropic Destroying Books?" (And why is it considered legal?)

From Friends Peace Teams: "Peace and War in Lviv, Ukraine." "...The nervous system adapts...."


More blues from Denmark: Delta Blues Band, "Yonders Wall."

30 July 2026

Quaker colleges in the USA during World War II

This article by Friends House Moscow staff member Sergei Grushko originally appeared on the Web site quakers.ru. Translated and reposted here by permission.


"I feel bound to recommend that policy which will enable us to do positive good rather than merely to refrain from evil."

— John Nason, wartime president of Swarthmore College.


Soldiers and students sit on the steps
of Swarthmore's Parrish Hall. Source.

World War II presented a severe challenge for American colleges. But perhaps no group faced a more difficult dilemma than the institutions of higher education founded by Quakers. How could they reconcile a centuries-old witness to peace with the need to survive? Different colleges came up with different answers. And this experience gives rise to reflections on how the Quaker commitment to peace was maintained in the face of total militarization and war hysteria.

With the United States' entry into the war in December 1941, male students began leaving campuses en masse—some students enrolled in military service voluntarily, while others were conscripted. Private colleges, already struggling with funding—Quaker colleges among them—found themselves facing threats of closure.

The numbers speak for themselves. By the spring of 1943, only 296 students remained at Earlham College (the Quaker college in Indiana)—97 boys and 199 girls. The college had lost nearly 48% of its male students. By October of that year, the total enrollment had dropped to 267, of whom only 64 were men. At Swarthmore College (Pennsylvania), during the same period, only 527 students were enrolled (down from 700 in 1940), 143 of whom were boys. The decline in male enrollment was catastrophic.

The school administrations were faced with the question of how to preserve their educational institutions. The U.S. government offered higher education a solution: participation in the V-12 program for training junior officers for the Navy, which would provide the colleges with a steady supply of military students as well as government funding. For Quaker colleges, this response was dangerously tempting.

The Quaker witness to peace was one of the cornerstones of the identity of these educational institutions. Swarthmore's founders believed that "the disposition to introduce military drill into the course of instruction in our public schools … is especially objectionable to Friends." The college's co-founder, Benjamin Hallowell, had himself been a conscientious objector.

However, by the 1940s, the Quaker identity of some colleges had weakened significantly. Swarthmore had officially given up its affiliation with the Society of Friends as early as 1909*, and by the start of the war, Quakers constituted a small minority among the student body. The number of actual conscientious objectors in the 1940s was minimal.

* For retired faculty to receive payments from the pension fund organized by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, colleges had to comply with its rules. The fund in its early years did not provide pensions to faculty from institutions "controlled or owned by religious organizations." This was primarily why Swarthmore had to end its formal Quaker affiliation.

Swarthmore President John Nason, himself a Quaker, chose a path that could be called ministry through presence. He reasoned that if the college didn't embrace the military, it might not survive as an institution. And if it disappeared, who would train the future peacekeepers, scientists, and doctors who would restore peace after the war? "I feel bound to recommend that policy which will enable us to do positive good rather than merely to refrain from evil," Nason declared.

Nason didn't see this as a contradiction to Quaker values. He sought to find new expression for these values in the changed circumstances. He ensured that the military presence on campus didn't turn the college into a barracks. And he succeeded. By the end of 1943, Swarthmore had 297 naval officers, 234 female students, and 155 civilian men enrolled. In addition, 49 Chinese naval officers arrived to study English. Each of them, in addition to military disciplines, took a full academic course. It was during these years that Swarthmore took two important steps toward social justice. It admitted its first African-American students, Dorothea Kopczynski and Gloria Clement. And it accepted Japanese-American students, who had been interned in camps by the government. Nason personally chaired the National Japanese American Student Relocation Council. The college used the military presence to protect its existence while remaining a place that valued human dignity.

Earlham College took a different path. In 1942, its president, William Dennis, declared to Indiana Yearly Meeting, "A Quaker college as such should not participate directly in the war effort…." And he remained true to his word. Military personnel were not allowed on campus. But the search for ways to collaborate with the government continued. Dennis proposed establishing a military police training unit on campus. He envisioned the military police not as an offensive force, but as a structure for maintaining order. However, the board of trustees rejected this proposal, deeming it incompatible with Quaker principles. This episode illustrates how even within a single Quaker community, there can be different understandings of the line between unacceptable compromise and acceptable service.

The failure to establish a military police unit strengthened the resolve of Earlham’s president to pursue an alternative direction. The college joined the Civilian Public Service (CPS) program, an alternative for conscientious objectors. It was a conscious choice: to help the country not with weapons, but with knowledge that would be useful after the war. But even here, difficulties arose. The program was underfunded, Congress reduced support, and by 1943, it effectively ceased to exist. Dennis turned to alumni, to Quakers, to those who believed in the college's mission. He asked for help. The response was overwhelming. A Free Will Fund campaign raised over $10,000—three times more than any similar campaign before it. Alumni wrote: "I was so grateful that Earlham College had remained true to Quaker principles in not taking a military unit onto the campus, that it was my intention as soon as possible to respond with a contribution to the Free Will Fund." "I am so proud of Earlham for the stand she has taken." The college also admitted 12 students of Japanese descent.

Representatives of seven Quaker educational institutions—including Haverford, Guilford, Friends University, William Penn, and Wilmington—met in September 1942 and decided to organize an alternative Civilian Public Service Reserve Force program to train conscientious objectors rather than soldiers. This initiative, proposed by historic peace churches (Quakers, Mennonites, and the Church of the Brethren ), would allow pacifist students to continue their education instead of being sent to Civilian Social Service camps. However, the government limited the program's total quota to 260 places for all participating colleges, of which Quaker colleges received only 100–120.

In the postwar years, the schools that had made their varying decisions continued to reflect on their choices. At Swarthmore, the debate continued. In 1950, prominent alumnus Thomas McCabe declared, "I was never more proud of Swarthmore than in the early days of the war when this Quaker institution, in spite of its traditional stand against war, offered all of its facilities voluntarily to our Government in time of need." William Richards (Class of 1948), who was imprisoned from 1942 to 1946 for resisting the draft, strongly disagreed: "A Quaker college has no place in aiding a war. Swarthmore should have taken a stand for peace and not sold its birthright for a mess of pottage." This debate reflects the deep tension between different understandings of the Quaker peace witness: from strict abstention from any participation in military action to active service to peace, even if it requires compromise.

Today, Swarthmore, Earlham, Haverford, and other Quaker colleges are proud of their Quaker heritage and are considered Quaker in spirit, although Quakers constitute a small minority of their student bodies. Their experience during World War II demonstrates that Quaker identity is not monolithic—it can be expressed differently in different institutional and historical contexts. The ability to remain faithful to the witness of peace, regardless of how it is practiced, is a characteristic feature of the Quaker tradition, allowing it to remain vibrant in diverse contexts. Fidelity to principle does not require uniformity.


Sergei Grushko lists these resources he consulted in writing his article:

For some additional interesting information concerning the internment of Japanese Americans and Quaker advocacy and hospitality for Japanese Americans during the displacement camp era, see


A more recent case of U.S. Quaker colleges vs conscription: the Solomon Amendment (1982) prohibiting federal financial aid to nonregistering students.

Looking for summer reading? Kristin Du Mez has some suggestions.

Jemar Tisby on The Pastor No One Can Correct. "Douglas Wilson can hold paedocommunion, dominionism, household voting, and his long apologetic for the Confederacy, because he answers to almost no one."

Jeremy Morris on a certain leader's "magical thinking." (By the way, I wrote a post about Russia, Ukraine, and avos' three and a half years ago.)

Ursula K. Le Guin's house here in Portland, Oregon, is added to the National Register of Historic Places. (Should also be on some intergalactic registry....)


Three Danish bluesmen cover "Dust My Broom": H.P. Lange, Troels Jensen, Hugo Rasmussen.