Showing posts with label Woodbrooke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Woodbrooke. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 April 2020

Online first-timers

posted by kathz

I've been wondering what it's like to attend your first Quaker Meeting online - and how best to welcome newcomers to an online Meeting. This post doesn't have easy answers but it does attempt to give some advice on how a newcomer might approach an online Meeting for Worship.

If you came to your first Meeting for Worship before lockdown, you were probably welcomed at the door. You might have been given a leaflet about what happens in Meeting. Even if you arrived a little late, there would still be someone on the door. You would have the opportunity to ask questions - and then there would be a chance for more conversation and questions after Meeting, usually over tea and biscuits.

Online Meetings can't do this. There might be a short opportunity for chat if you get there early - but there will probably be a fair number of other people, making conversation difficult. And if you're a little late - or quite a lot late - as may easily happen with a tricky internet connection, you are plunged straight into the experience of being silent while seeing the faces of strangers. And faces seen on the internet rarely seen as friendly or approachable as faces encountered in real life.

But you may still want to join an online Meeting for Worship - and you would be very welcome to do so. I'm going to make a few suggestions about how you might approach it. These are based on my own experience and they are not the only possibilities.

First of all, once you have got through the technicalities and arrived, try to settle into the silence. It won't be complete silence. There are always other sounds. You may, if you're lucky, hear birdsong. It may be traffic, voices from outside or a dog barking. Take these sounds into the stillness with you.

Being in Meeting for Worship is often about listening - but that doesn't mean straining to listen. It's a kind of openness to what may come. Don't worry if your thoughts wander or if worries come to mind in the stillness - perhaps that wandering or coming face to face with a worry is what you need to happen. Let it be there and try to rest in the stillness you are sharing with others.

Don't worry if you become restless or if you lose a sense of the stillness. This happens to all of us from time to time. Gradually take yourself back into any stillness you may find. Try to be comfortable despite the technological apparatus.

Someone may speak - it's what we call "ministry" - and this should be because they feel led by the Spirit to do so. Ministry isn't for the individual alone but for someone else or some others in the Meeting. It may respond to your needs. If it doesn't, think it possible that someone else in the Meeting is helped by what is being said. And if you feel an overwhelming urge to minister, try to do so clearly and briefly (remembering to unmute your microphone before you speak and to must it again when you have finished).

Online Meetings usually have an opportunity for conversation at the end. You may welcome this or wish to reflect on your own. Choose whatever is right for you. 

Many Meetings, like Beeston, have gone online for the first time and Quakers are still getting used to the experience. Woodbrooke Quaker College in Birmingham have been holding online Meetings for a long time and have added a number of new times. These often include Quakers from other countries and in different time zones. They use Zoom and Adobe Connect. If you want to find out about their Meetings for Worship, click on this link.

You may also enjoy hearing what some young Quakers have to say about Meeting for Worship in this short video. 

Saturday, 11 April 2020

Locked down Quakers

posted by Kathy

There was a time, back in the seventeenth century, when it was not unusual for Quakers to be locked up - usually for disturbing the peace, for worshiping in a different way, or for refusing to pay tithes (subscriptions to the Church of England). British Quakers have been locked up since then, most recently for protests against the arms fair or for involvement in Extinction Rebellion. But now we're all under lockdown and what Quakers experience is part of a general imprisonment which we try to endure for the sake of the greater good.

Conditions of our locked down lives vary. Some are in the highly vulnerable category, so unable to leave their homes at all. Others make the most of their daily walk or bike ride for exercise. Some struggle with mental or physical ill health. Some live in crowded conditions or lack a secure place to call home. Some endure difficult or abusive relationships. Some don't have enough money for food, for electricity - let alone for some of the small pleasures (books, games, etc) that make life feel worth living.

It's important to realise how various our experiences of life under lockdown can be - and how reluctant some of us (even some Quakers) may feel to share the difficulties they are experiencing. That's a sad thing for those of us in more fortunate circumstances because we urgently need to learn from the experiences of others.

Meanwhile Beeston Quakers continue. In the years since I last wrote, Beeston Quakers has grown and, until lockdown, Meetings for Worship averaged around fifteen attending every week - not the same fifteen every week and there are probably between thirty and forty people associated with the Meeting.

But in lockdown we're unable to meet in person. Instead, those of us who are happy to do so gather online and hold Meeting for Worship online via Zoom. That's right - pause for laughter - we actually share silence online! And our Meetings have been mostly silence although there's time and space for chat before and afterwards.

This change in approach has made me think more about what we're doing in our Meetings for Worship and the difference between a Meeting and individual meditation. I don't think the online experience is vital - I know that some Friends choose instead to sit in a quiet place (even a garden if they have one) and experience a sense of connection with others at the usual time for Meeting for Worship. Some Friends don't have the technology to go online or find it unhelpful - having a computer, phone or smartphone has never been a prerequisite for Quaker worship. But I use my netbook and  headphones because I like to see the faces of others and know who is worshiping with me - and because I'm lucky enough to have this equipment. Others connect on phones.

So what exactly am I doing? I can't speak for others but I think that what I''m trying to reach is a place of deep listening. Quakers used to say they were listening for God's guidance but that's a tricky phrase - whatever God is or may be has become caught up in the limitations  of human imagination and what I'm talking about is something much harder to define. Words like "Spirit" or "Light" may be better but I'm really talking about an experience that has always resisted being put into words - or into my words anyway.

I don't just sit down and let this listening happen. I let myself be aware of other people, I notice odd details around me, I let worries and concerns surface and then, very gradually, I find myself slipping into to the deep place of listening. I don't always know I'm doing it. Sometimes it's only when I surface at the end of Meeting that I realise things around me have made a slight rearrangement and I've adjusted my relationship with the world.

Occasionally in Meeting someone is moved to speak. This may be by speaking - and that's not aways clear with my dodgy broadband connection - or they may  type into the chat area. I take what I can from this, recognising that what doesn't work for me may, in Quaker-speak, speak to someone else's condition. Or I may be filled with an overpowering urge to say something or read something - often something that arrives quite suddenly in Meeting and that wasn't on my mind before. When that happens, I speak as clearly and briefly as  I can - but I may let the words order themselves in my mind before I begin so that it's clear to others. When the words order themselves, I find myself stripping out the inessentials.

Of course, online  Meeting has its technical problems - microphones that need to be muted, video connections that fail. And it can be hard to find a quiet space. But some people will also worship with cats, dogs and small children around them, or may choose to join a Meeting just for the few minutes or half hour they have.

Online Meetings for Worship are taking place all around the country and elsewhere. They may include friends abroad and people whose disabilities have previously prevented them from reaching a Meeting. It's not the same as attending a Meeting in the same physical space as other people - but it's not as different as I feared it might be.

Tuesday, 5 August 2008

Book Reviews and a Question

posted by Rhiannon

For the third time this year, I'm blogging from Woodbrooke. However, this time I'm doing art and poetry which I can't really share, so here's a post I've been meaning to make for a while: book reviews.

Beginning Again, John Pritchard

Writing for those on the edges of Christianity-either on the way out or the way in-John Pritchard gives very simple and down-to-earth advice about experimenting with different methods of prayer, Bible study, and ways of coping with church communities. There's a lot of highly approachable and adaptable material; for example, things to pray about during a boring sermon can easily be taken as prompts to consider when faced with ministry of any kind which doesn't, to use the Quaker phrase, speak to your condition. Even the section on lifestyles choices is non-abrasive (so often modern Christian works on such matters have little to say beyond 'Don't be gay!'). For myself, the most valuable part is the material on prayer methods, as I'd heard of, for example, the Benedictine method without ever being told what it actually was. It hasn't solved all my problems with Christian prayer (I don't like confession and I'm not sure about that Christ thing) but I've taken a lot away to adapt, use, or store for occassions when it might be useful-perhaps one day I'll find a Quaker Bible study group who are accessible and don't mind experimenting, and be able to put some of that section to use.


Praying Like A Woman, Nicola Slee

A mixture of prose, poems, and liturgy, this book is deeply feminist, at times intensely personal, and brought me to the edge of tears more than once. It does not shy away from the dark things in life, AIDs and winter featuring as themes, but also has space for enjoyment of life, with an especial knack for bringing to the fore very simple material things: summer fruits, for example, get a short and lovely grace. It remains firmly Christian, drawing from Biblical sources, but bringing new and modern readings, both in the form of letting women speak, and of letting God be female. I have only had a copy for twenty-two hours as I write this, and I am already beginning to see that I'll be turning back to this book for readings and meditations.


Quakerism: A Theology for Our Time, Patricia A. Williams

Setting out to take Barclay's Quaker theology and hold it up against modern science, this book is quite clear that Quakerism is the way to go (and not just any kind of Quakerism, but conservative (unprogrammed) Quakerism: the rest, it is implied, are only calling themselves Friends). Her descriptions of the testimonies are clear without over-simplfying; they have room to overlap each other. Because she needs to set Quakerism and science against 'orthodox' Christianity, she has to give very brief overviews of Catholic and Protestant postions-this is ok for me, but may be too short for someone new to the field; I'm in no position to critique the science, though I suspect that those better versed in it may find those summaries very brief, too. Generally, however, I think this is an accessible book on what is often hidden in Quakerism: what we actually think. Perhaps this is an inevitable offshoot of the fact that what we think is most important is not analysing but experiencing. On the other hand, I find analysis both fascinating and enjoyable, so this book was right up my street.


An Introduction to Quakerism, Pink Dandelion

This book also deals somewhat with Quaker theology, but what it actually does best is introduce Quaker history, all the tangled branches of it, alongside a snapshot of where some of those branches are now. At times I found myself a little impatient with bits I already knew, as it has the flavour of being aimed at non-Quakers; on the other hand, I discovered a good many things I didn't know and probably should, so evidently a mere twenty-odd years mixing with Quakers isn't enough to teach everything. A few months after reading this, what stands out are the quotes from various Quaker bodies worldwide. It brings me rather more compassion than I would otherwise have for the Anglican Communion to think that were Quakers to try and have the same kind of centralised meeting we would have as many or more problems than they do! I suppose the Friends World Committee for Consultation are the closest we get to a Lambeth Conference.


My question is this: what books have you been reading lately which have spoken to your condition? What do you read when you want to improve your prayer life, adjust your image of God/dess, or deepen your knowledge of your religion?

Thursday, 12 June 2008

Further reflections on The Whole Banana

posted by Rhiannon

Now that I've had some more time to think and process the material, I wanted to come back and write in more depth about The Whole Banana. For the background, please read my previous post on the topic if you haven't yet done so.



(image by Alex Wildwood)

As you can see in the picture, the 'banana' is the 'Quaker Way', stretching from Christianity on the left to 'participatory spiritualities' on the right. One of the most important things I think I've taken away from this weekend is the need not to underestimate the real differences between Quakers at different points on the 'banana'. To simply say “we're all...”, whether that is “we're all pacifists”, “we're all universalists” or so forth, is to generalise and hence to ignore some people. We may all tend towards pacifism, but there are different understandings of that; we may all tend towards universalism, but there are different understandings of that, too. Importantly for our purposes here, some see universalists who tend towards the right-hand side of the banana as—in the terms of a New Foundation booklet—“anti-Christian”.

I don't think I know any universalists who intend to be anti-Christian. But in discovering the riches in other faiths, we can sometimes be disparaging towards Christianity: we talk about 'moving beyond' Christianity, about 'leaving behind' Christianity. For those who have been wounded by Christian churches, this can be a very attractive conception of Quakerism. However, there is a need to respect our roots and our current members who find riches in Christianity—to accept the whole banana, and not to focus on one end to the exclusion of the other.

Trying to understand this, I sought both reasons why I might be failing to accept riches from Christianity, and analogies to the experience Tim described of feeling that some people in what he is attempting to make his community were not fully respecting his beliefs. Warning: this next section is deeply self-centred, as I seek to speak from my own experience.

I find two blocks to accepting spiritual insight phrased in explicitly Christian language. The first is the associations I have with those terms: talk of the need to accept Jesus, of believing Gospel truth, of the love of the Lord, always recalls to me encounters with Christians which have been bitter, unwelcome, or painful. In the group, I spoke about an occasion when—while trying to appreciate a celebration of the books of the three Abrahamic religions at the British Library—I was accosted by Christians determined to have me accept their view of reality. I was fresh from a New Testament module at the time, and stood my ground: they finally left me alone when, once one of them had told me that if I did not accept Jesus's word that he was the Son of God, I doubted everything, I looked her in the eye and say firmly that yes, I doubted everything.

I came away with a guilty sense of triumph and a bitterness towards them for spoiling what was meant to be an celebration of their religion alongside others. There have been other incidents of this sort; sometimes I ask for it, by attending Christian Union meetings and the like, but I always go with the intention of listening openly, and find myself being told what to believe. It is notable that other strong religious groups on campus say 'this is what we believe' (the Islamic Society has a very strong line in this), while the Christians say 'this is what you should believe'. Those interactions leave a sense of discomfort around Christianity. Before anyone jumps in, I know that not all Christians are like this—while I was working with the Iona Community, I met many very open-minded, welcoming, non-pushy Christians, who respected my individuality and took me as a friend with (often literally) open arms.

Even on Iona, though (where I felt so much part of the community that I took Communion!), there were things which gave me the clear idea that I could not be a Christian. There are things some Christians hold to which I disagree with intellectually—the historicity of Biblical stories, for example; the idea that one only comes to God through Jesus (odd, because Jesus clearly came to God through Judaism; there is also a debate here within Christianity about whether one needs faith IN Jesus or the faith OF Jesus, but to me the problem is the idea that there's something uniquely special about Jesus: either you only know whether you have the right faith by knowing about Jesus, or you weaken the terms so much that the faith OF a given other person is identical with that of Jesus, and then you might as well just follow that other person and you've lost the Christianity bit); and so on—not to mention the sometimes horrible (occasionally, to an outsider with a twisted sense of humour, hilarious) infighting over homosexuality and the history of fighting bloody wars in God's name. I've been reading up a little on Jews in Spain during the Inquisition recently, and that's enough to put you off your lunch, let alone the Church.


More than all that, though, there's the part I react to on an almost entirely emotional level, and that is the view of women within the Church. Can they be ordained? Yes or no, depending who you ask. Can they be bishops? The yes group are getting smaller. Can their experience be represented in the liturgy? Yes, but only very recently, and never, it seems, in the songs or passages people treasure.

That might be changing. Give the generation who are now singing John Bell's 'She Sits Like a Bird' time to grow up, leave the church, and become Quakers, and perhaps some of the “quote a meaningful passage from the religion of my childhood” ministry will become easier for me to accept with an open heart. For now, though, it's all too often 'Dear Lord and Father of Mankind', or something equally exclusive (a shame, because it's good after the first line). I understand the hesitation to try and change the language of one's spiritual experience, but, I keep wanting to say to people, perhaps I can meet you halfway. I'm not, at the moment, quite sure where that is, though.

So: I can comfortably talk about Quakers moving beyond Christianity, because I do not want us to be limited to a tradition which has these flaws, but that doesn't mean I want us to lose it entirely. I can see that there is much good and useful and inspiring in Christianity—one of the things identified over the weekend was the cost of doing what God wants, the need for sacrifice, as a strong theme in Christianity and a weak or non-existent idea in 'new spiritualities'. I'd add to that the undeniable beauty of the physical arts and music created in Christianity—my personal favourites include some of the Taize chants (Ubi Caritas, for example) and church carvings (even if I favour faintly-pagan images like the Green Man).

I can also see that to have people casually say that your community has moved beyond your deeply held beliefs is uncomfortable. To understand this better, I looked for an analogy—accepting that it's far from the same, but hoping to gain some insight. The best I've come up with so far is that it is probably close to the experience I have when, having made some feminist point, major or minor, someone (and it's usually a man, though not always) says to me, “you shouldn't let gender matter”, or, worse, “there's no gender inequality these days”. When someone says that to me, I know that I can't, at that time, trust them to support me in issues which are important, or to be accepting of my position. There are ways in which people can disagree and still accept my position: to respond to “x seems to be caused by gender inequality” with “I'm not so sure; x could be caused by factors y or z as well” is respectful. To merely deny the existence of gender inequality without debate is not.

Thus, I'm imagining that to say 'Christianity is not useful' or 'Christianity is not part of the Quaker Way any more' is hurtful in much the same way. I'd love it if someone from the Christian end of the banana who has felt this would give me feedback on my analogy, as it's based purely on my own imagining at the moment.

This post is already far too long, but I want to discuss one last thing (I can see that there may be more posts in future): the skin of the banana. We need something to hold us together, or we are nothing more than a set of unrelated people using a single name. Suggestions include 'having a sense of something beyond' (but what about the humanists and atheists, who have much to offer but no sense of something beyond humanity?), 'finding worth in Meeting for Worship' (but what about those who, despite regular attendance, claim to feel nothing?), 'living a Quaker life' (but where then is the 'religious' part of 'Religious Society of Friends'?), and 'commitment to openness' (anyone who says that they're right and you're wrong, is wrong: perhaps akin to the militant agnostic position).

I am left with a deepened sense of something studying philosophy often alerts me to: all my answers are inadequate. Perhaps that's the skin of the banana: being okay with questions.

Saturday, 7 June 2008

The Whole Banana

posted by Rhiannon

I'm back at Woodbrooke, this time doing a course called 'Encouraging Faithful Diversity: the whole banana', with Alex Wildwood and Tim Peat Ashworth.

Obviously, I can't go into much detail--we're discussing a lot of very personal things, and issues from our home Meetings. That in itself is powerful, as the issues can be very deeply felt and the small group (there are only 11 of us, including the two tutors) makes a safe space in which to do so.

To give you an idea, though, the core issue is the relationships within the Religious Society of Friends between our Christian roots (background? past? core?) and the other influences, from other world religions, 'new age' movements, and semi- or wholly-secular sources such as psychology: they are perhaps best characterised as 'participatory spiritualities', but don't trust me on that, try and hear Alex and Tim talk about it for yourself.

The 'whole banana' of the title is the Quaker Way: a hard-to-define blob which stretches from near the centre of a Christian circle on once side, through a mixed area of Christian-other interaction, and into the 'other' circle. Within Britain Yearly Meeting, we have F/friends from all parts of this spectrum. That can be wonderful--we do sometimes enjoy our diversity--but it can be a superficial tolerance which glosses over real difference, or it can be a cause of strife, as wounded refugees from Christian churches are glad to escape and hate to be reminded of it, while other Quakers who find much meaning in Christianity are made to feel that their beliefs are being dismissed.

So, blog readers, I'd like to invite you to consider these questions: which end of the banana are you closest to? how do you feel about that lot at the other end, and those outside the Quaker Way who may be closer to you in beliefs than some other Quakers are? is this an issue which is discussed in your Meeting, or something which is unknown or hidden?

Saturday, 5 April 2008

Quaker Universalist Conference

posted by Rhiannon

A quick report from Woodbrooke, where I'm at the Quaker Universalist conference, so you know why I'm not with you this Sunday.

It has been said that most British Quakers, being the open-minded liberal-liberal kind, are probably Universalists on some level, but QUG (the Quaker Universalist Group) acts as a focus for that strand of the Society of Friends. (A 'universalist' is, roughly, someone who believes in some truth in all religions: it's 'being open to new light', extreme ironing edition).

The title of the conference is 'Translating Spirit'. We've heard about the Zero Point Field (it's centring down, with added quantum) from Brian Gill, balancing the inside and the outside from Jennifer Kavanaugh (I just know I spelt that wrong; correction when I'm not already late for dinner), and music and massage and other non-verbal spiritual things from John Sheldon. Plus there's been time for discussion, both formally in our ten-person 'break out groups' and informally over the pepetual mugs of tea and coffee. Still to come are the AGM and further sessions.

I'll think of you all in Meeting tomorrow.