A Friendly weekend
Nov. 21st, 2005 08:31 amDid lots of Quakerly stuff this weekend. Saturday was an "Elders" potluck. Dave had gone to a couple before, but as I am getting more involved in our local meeting, I have felt the desire to participate more in community. It was wonderful. There were only a few of us 50-somethings, many people in their 80s with incredibly rich lives and wisdom to share. We socialized -- and I met one woman who knew the husband of one of my father's favorite cousins -- then sat down to a truly superior potluck, then gathered in a circle. The wife of the hosting couple, whose simple words and luminous spirit have always drawn me, discussed how in various stages of her life have been characterized by an evolving sequence of "testimonies," (simplicity, peace, integrity, community, for example) and asked us to share where we were. What emerged were remarkable stories of courage and love, even in the face of seeming insurmountable problems. Deeply inspiring.
I was also struck by the quality of how they listened to one another. All too often, we are in such a rush to prepare what =we= are going to say (and how we are going to break into the conversation to say it) that we cannot hear or absorb what the other person is saying. We seem to be in perpetual fear that there will never be enough time for us.
Sunday, we went into meeting early, for a class on Quaker teachings, talked about where the idea of "plainness/simplicity" came from and from there, springboarded into a discussion of materialism, asceticism as idolatry, how all this relates to Buddhism, and back again.
The meeting itself was intense and profoundly moving. After a time of stillness, deeper issues emerged in the spoken ministries. Recent, the community, or some members, participated in a retreat to evaluate "the state of the meeting." This meeting is not officially Christian, although many members are, and there are other members who, from traumatic personal history or whatever reason, uncomfortable with Christian or Biblical references. This tension and the pain on both sides underlay what happened -- a series of often tearful sharings as individuals and the community opened their hearts to one another. For me, it was an opportunity to offer my own inner guidance.
As a Jewish woman exploring worship in a Quaker setting, I often find myself more comfortable and more in touch with that "still inner voice" in silent meeting than in synagogue service. One reason is the inclusiveness of Quaker worship and community, the dedication to seeing "that of God in every person." If I have not been comfortable in other Christian settings, it is not because of the teachings of the founding rabbi, but how they have been used as instruments of hatred. (I almost walked out of a Palm Sunday service because of the pervasive undercurrent of anti-Semitism; it was impossible for me to ignore how these words were used as incitement for mass slaughter of Jews.) It is the hatred that is the enemy, in whatever guise it assumes. Here I find a place where I can respect and celebrate all teachings of love, fidelity and integrity.
As one person after another rose to speak or sing, a feeling came upon the meeting, one of being "gathered" in spirit. The issue is not "settled," it is a work in progress as with patience and inward listening, we move forward together.
I was also struck by the quality of how they listened to one another. All too often, we are in such a rush to prepare what =we= are going to say (and how we are going to break into the conversation to say it) that we cannot hear or absorb what the other person is saying. We seem to be in perpetual fear that there will never be enough time for us.
Sunday, we went into meeting early, for a class on Quaker teachings, talked about where the idea of "plainness/simplicity" came from and from there, springboarded into a discussion of materialism, asceticism as idolatry, how all this relates to Buddhism, and back again.
The meeting itself was intense and profoundly moving. After a time of stillness, deeper issues emerged in the spoken ministries. Recent, the community, or some members, participated in a retreat to evaluate "the state of the meeting." This meeting is not officially Christian, although many members are, and there are other members who, from traumatic personal history or whatever reason, uncomfortable with Christian or Biblical references. This tension and the pain on both sides underlay what happened -- a series of often tearful sharings as individuals and the community opened their hearts to one another. For me, it was an opportunity to offer my own inner guidance.
As a Jewish woman exploring worship in a Quaker setting, I often find myself more comfortable and more in touch with that "still inner voice" in silent meeting than in synagogue service. One reason is the inclusiveness of Quaker worship and community, the dedication to seeing "that of God in every person." If I have not been comfortable in other Christian settings, it is not because of the teachings of the founding rabbi, but how they have been used as instruments of hatred. (I almost walked out of a Palm Sunday service because of the pervasive undercurrent of anti-Semitism; it was impossible for me to ignore how these words were used as incitement for mass slaughter of Jews.) It is the hatred that is the enemy, in whatever guise it assumes. Here I find a place where I can respect and celebrate all teachings of love, fidelity and integrity.
As one person after another rose to speak or sing, a feeling came upon the meeting, one of being "gathered" in spirit. The issue is not "settled," it is a work in progress as with patience and inward listening, we move forward together.