I feel that this should be publicised, but have little of my own material to offer: here, then, is a selection of good posts and projects by other people.
Skin Coloured is intended to be a collaborative, visual exploration of what it is to be non-white in a white culture. Make-up, plasters and tights - even when they’re marked “flesh-coloured” - are not the colour of skin that isn’t white. And whilst white women may have trouble matching these items to their skin, for women who don’t class themselves as white, this inconvenience is symptomatic of a wider problem.
To help illustrate this problem, therefore, Skin Coloured is looking for submissions. Send us photographs that illustrate the inadequacy of provisions for non-white people, and we’ll post them on the blog, and hopefully both those submitting, and those who’re here to learn, will gain something from it.
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?
As a small Meeting, Beeston sees Meeting for Worship as its central activity. A few of us commit ourselves to attend on as many Sundays as possible to ensure that Meeting continues. However, this becomes difficult in August when a number of people plan family holidays and days out. This makes it hard to hold Meeting so, as usual, we have decided that there will be no Meetings for Worship in August.
It's a good opportunity to experience other Meetings for Worship. There's a link in the right-hand side-bar to Notts and Derbys Monthly Meeting and a list of other Meetings in the area. Loughborough Meeting is also fairly close - if you would like details, click HERE (you may want to email for further information).
By clicking HERE you can find details of Meetings in the U.K.
We'll be back at the Day Centre at 10.30 a.m. on Sunday, 7th September.
In the meantime, there may be further posts on the Beeston Quakers blog. And here is a (non-Quaker) video to cheer you on your holidays.
Note: The performer is Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes.
I've just received the latest email from Campaign Against Arms Trade. And I learn that Clarion Events has extended its range. It's concerned, according to its website, with growth areas. So perhaps it's not surprising that the company has moved into arms sales.
Clarion Events has bought the company DSEi from Reed Elsevier, who seem to have responded to ethical objections to DSEi's area of expertise. DSEi runs regular arms fairs in Britain where states - including some of the most repressive states in the world - can buy weapons and torture equipment from arms dealers. The event is heavily policed and protestors are regularly arrested. This happened to 66-year-old pacifist Gwyn Gwyntopher who was dragged in handcuffs across the concrete of a railway station (although she had a valid ticket) in case her presence and placard cause offence to any arms dealers. She was later acquitted of trespass.
Campaign Against Arms Trade suggests that people might like to write to Simon Kimble, the Chief Executive of Clarion Events expressing their concerns about arms fairs. They provide a helpful form HERE. The address of Clarion Events is Earls Court Exhibition Centre, Warwick Road, London SW5 9TA.
The video shows Mark Thomas considering the arguments in favour of arms sales.
This is a question that has been troubling me for years. Why do Quakers, who have a testimony to equality, run fee-paying schools?
I can see why it started. Education hasn't always been free in England and schools often promoted activities and interests that were directly opposed to Quakerism. There is much that I oppose in school education today. But I would not send my children to a private school because that goes against my Quaker beliefs in equality.
I know that Quaker schools have a good reputation. I can see why people would be reluctant to close something that is good - and I can see a case for schools that stand out against dominant beliefs. But I don't believe Quaker schools, however good their education, are sufficiently free from external pressures to justify their existence as Quaker bodies. The sites talk about Meeting for Worship and internationalism but also about exam success - and there's an implicit message that, by buying a Quaker education for a child, the parents will also be buying the kind of facilities and attention that are not available in the state system.
Private education teaches children that they are special - it implies that they are better than children educated in the state system. I've heard children heading for private education at 11 imply that their schooling confer privilege because they are cleverer and/or better-loved than other, state-educated children. This is dangerous - and may be particularly dangerous when combined with the Quaker approach which values personal insight and individual access to truth. Quaker pupils may be told about equality but what they experience is different. They learn that their insights are valued more than the insights of most children. The stories that Osama bin Laden was educated at the Brummana Quaker school in Lebanon may derive from a confusion of bin Laden brothers, but it seems feasible that children educated at expensive Quaker schools may grow up with an enhanced sense of privilege and a strong belief in the importance of their views.
I have known good people who valued their Quaker education and I know many Quakers are convinced of the value of Quaker schools. But when I consider Quaker schools in the light of Quaker testimonies, it's as though there's a great wall between the testimony to equality and the practice of Quaker schools. I could never teach in a Quaker school and my children attended the local imperfect - but much more inclusive - state schools, although I believe there are scholarships to help the children of Quakers attend Quaker schools.
Quakers have often had difficulty with the testimony to equality. Historically Quakers helped educate the poor and slaves but they usually maintained a line between pauper children, slaves and their own, more privileged Quaker children. Real equality would go further.
The testimony to equality is most severely tested when it comes to our own children. We wonder at their beauty from the moment they are born and yearn for their safety and success. Surely all parents do this. But however much I love my children - and that's a great deal - I cannot live the testimony to equality by saying that my children matter more than yours.
I want to know what other Quakers think - and how non-Quakers view the question. What can you say?
I was going to start this post with a quick summary of the life, times, and views of Spinoza, but then I found this YouTube video which does a much better job that I could:
(If for some reason you can't watch it right now, don't worry; I'm going to summarize the key bits of philosophy anyway. If you want his biography, you can try the Wikipedia entry, or the Stanford entry.)
Rabbi Jonathan Ginsberg's YouTube video does a good job of explaining Spinoza's context and reactions from the Jewish community, but he doesn't go into much detail about Spinoza's actual views on God. How is it that he has been considered an atheist and a mystic?
Well, he was a pantheist. That's a piece of academic jargon which probably doesn't help you much: even the analysis, 'pan', covering everything, and 'theist', believer in God, doesn't give you the word's usual meaning. Spinozan pantheism (there are other kinds but we won't worry about that now) is based on a belief that 'God' and 'Nature' are the same thing. Thus, God exists, but isn't quite God as the Bible sees him (it's life, Jim, but not as we know it).
For Spinoza, 'God or nature' is one substance—one thing which can be understood through itself. He borrowed the term 'substance' from Descartes, who had written only a few years before, but who had always stopped short of really analysing religious beliefs. In Descartes, the potential exists for many substances, but Spinoza said that it didn't make sense: if no two substances can share attributes, and God—being perfect, and all-powerful—has all possible attributes, then there can be nothing but God.
At this point, sensible people tend to say, “But there is! Look, here's a tree, that's not God. Here's me, I'm not God.”
This is a good point, but what the Spinozan says in response is: “You may not know it, but everything in the universe is God. It exists, but the only thing which can exist is God, therefore everything is God. Not God as you think of Him—not a being with plans for His Creation, indeed not a Creator at all, because Creation and Creator would be separate while God and Nature are one.”
This sort of thing could upset a Jewish community, especially if propounded by someone who was supposed to be one of their own. Although Spinoza had some Christian education, he also dealt with very deeply Jewish topics, such as the nation of Israel as God's chosen people. (He sees that, incidentally, as simply a historical matter: what people call 'God's will' is simply the result of material, historical forces. I'll stop here before I reach the Marxism.)
On the other hand, pantheism was very attractive to later writers, especially the 'Romantics', who liked the idea of God-as-everything, and called Spinoza "God-intoxicated".
The question I want to address, though, is a bit more personal: what does all this philosophy have to do with my prayer life?
When I first read Spinoza, I went, 'I like this guy. I can agree with this stuff.' I was writing an essay on whether or not he was really an atheist, so I was thinking about this material quite deeply. (If you're wondering, I concluded that you had to call him an atheist if your concept of theism was a standard Abrahamic one, but he was more than that really.) That was fine, until it was time for Meeting for Worship.
Having decided that I was a pantheist, I sat down in the silence of Meeting, and tried to centre down, to be in closer contact with 'God' (scare-quotes to indicate the vast range of understandings possible). But my old ways of thinking about Deity—whether taken from Christianity or Buddhism or Hinduism etc.—seemed inadequate to this new pantheistic version. Paganism teaches that Deity can be found in the natural world, and some pagans even find it in towns and cities. Quakerism teaches that there is something of God in all people. Pantheism demands more. This is not just a God who is closer to you than your jugular vein, nor an impersonal basis for all consciousness which will be rejoined when you become truly aware.
This is a Deity which is not just here, now, but is the here and now.
I'm still working on that one. It makes sense to me. The trouble is, I slip too easily back into my old ways. I say 'He' or 'She' as if Deity/Nature had gender, and I use names as if Deity/Nature had many personalities. I don't think that's a wrong thing to do: the metaphors and analogies thus created, and many more besides, can be a great help. The mistake is to forget that they are nothing but metaphors and analogies, something which tends to happen when we always use the same ones.
Whether or not you agree with Spinoza, I think there's a real value in understanding such a radical religious position. I'm a philosophy student, and so I tend to change my position every time I read something good—during term time, that can be up to five times a week. However, I like to think that each change is an improvement, and that some ideas stick with me where others slip away. Spinoza's ideas have now been with me for a year since I first read him, and I still agree with much of it.
I wanted to follow up Kathy's excellent post with a personal and specific account of one of the local events. I'm not going to make it to any of the evening things, but popping in the Central Library for an hour was easy and really informative.
The exhibition (Nottingham Central Library, Angel Row, June 1st-30th 2008) is called "One Man's Journey Through the Asylum Process", and has been created by the Sankofa Foundation. It displays, though photographs, objects, a video, and background documents, what happened to one man who left Kurdistan Iraq in 1998. Although the Immigration Tribunal didn't doubt that he had indeed been in danger, but believed that he could relocate to somewhere else in Iraq.
For all that there are important differences between refugees and asylum seekers (see the comments to Kathy's post), they also tend to have similar needs when they arrive here: food, shelter, support, English lessons, and so forth. A couple of years ago, I was trained as an In4mer (peer educator) through GirlguidingUK, and one of the topics I teach in that capacity is 'Refugees and Asylum Seekers'. In those sessions, I often find that the participants (typically 7-14 year old girls, who repeat the things their parents say) believe many mistaken things. For example, they often think that asylum seekers can be illegal (not true: everyone has a right to seek asylum, though many will not be granted it).
Very few of them have taken the time to think about what it must be like to be in that situation: so as well as explaining, we do exercises with them to prompt thought. We start playing a game but only give the rules in Spanish--to parallel the way that asylum seekers, including the One Man of the exhibition, need help to understand what is going on. We ask them to rate food, water, family, shelter, education, and other things in order of importance--to bring to their attention how much they may have lost.
Even fewer if any of them, though, are mature enough to begin to think about other themes of this exhibition: the loneliness of being cut off from your family and unable to participate normally in British society, the mixed longing to go home and fear of what will happen if you do, and the struggles with the legal system here.
When his application was rejected, this man ended up living in the corner of the factory where he worked--not for pay, but for the right to sleep in the corner. Later he lived in his allotment shed. He is now back in Kurdistan, but (despite all that has happened in Iraq), the Kurds are still, to quote the exhibition signs, "a nation without a state" and his family are "trying to live a very low-profile existence in the shadows".
I found it especially moving that he had left behind so many photographs (having treasured images of his family during their decade apart) which let us have an insight into his experience.