When I tell people I’m a Quaker, the most common response, especially from teens, is: What, like the Quaker Oats guy?
I laugh and say yes. Like the Quaker Oats guy.
You’ve maybe heard of Quakers.
Maybe you’ve had a Quaker friend. Maybe you think of Quakers helping with the Underground Railroad in the U.S. Or William Penn and Pennsylvania.
Or you might think of Quakers helping people be conscientious objectors to war, like they did for my husband’s late father.
Maybe you only know one Quaker, and she’s unruly and writes a Substack.
I gave a presentation about Quakers in my Contemplative Psychology class this week and I thought of y’all, and I thought, “You know, I’ve never really shared with folks WHY I’m a Quaker, and what a Quaker even is.”
So. Away we go!
What do Quakers believe?
I’m starting here because that’s what people want to know first. (After they ask, “Like the Quaker Oats guy?”)
It’s a bit of a complicated answer, because Quakers don’t have a dogma or doctrine.
There is nothing you are required to believe, witness, attest, or swear to to be Quaker.
(In fact, we don’t swear to oaths. As I see it, we don’t swear oaths because our word should be as good in our everyday conversations as it is in swearing an oath, like you do to testify in court. Ideally, we live in integrity and honesty in all we do.)
So I usually answer what do Quakers believe by starting with how we practice.
I’m going to talk about unprogrammed (which is what it sounds like - no worship program) Quaker worship. There are some “programmed” Quaker Meetings, but honestly to me —and I’m just speaking for myself— those start to feel like almost any other church service. They have a “leader” or even a minister, and pre-planned services, and they lose the silent, contemplative practice that I find so unique and engaging —so CORE— to being a Quaker.
Our worship practices.
This is a photo of Durham Friends Meeting worship room.
We worship in silence, in “expectant waiting.”
That means we don’t come into the worship room with an agenda or a prepared speech or any plans whatsoever.
We sit. We settle in. We wait.
Sometimes an hour passes in total silence.
Sometimes several, or even a lot of, Friends are led to share a vocal ministry.
What are we waiting for?
We’re waiting to see if we are prompted, or led in Quakerspeak, by Spirit (or God, or the Light, or The Great Cosmic Echidna) to share a vocal ministry or sometimes a music ministry.
Hey, do you feel a stirring from within to share? Great.
Now clam it and sit on it for awhile, at least a good 20 minutes or so, to be sure it’s really a leading.
Still feeling that leading?
Great. Share your vocal ministry.
Does this all sound subjective?
That’s because it is.
But it’s also guided by 400 years of Quaker experience before us, so there is some wisdom and guidance available about this if you want it.
I bet I know what some of you are thinking:
What if someone shares a vocal ministry that you find … problematic?
It happens. Fewer times than you might think.
Ideally we are in relationship with one another in Worship and listening deeply to each other’s leadings. This means listening for the meaning behind the vocal ministry that we might find problematic, especially in a space spanning multiple generations.
OK, so a Friend is lifting up something they gleaned from a current feel-good film that caters to Boomers but is a nightmare for critical Gen-Xers and Millennials. The Blindside, let’s say. Or Crash.
Ideally, we’d listen for the meaning in the ministry. Is Friend speaking of love? Is Friend speaking of learning something new to them, and talking about continuously revealed truth? What is Spirit telling us in this? That there is a gift in listening to our elders, even if we think we know more than them?
I honestly think we in the U.S., and especially white people in the U.S., are particularly bad at listening to and valuing elder wisdom. Sometimes it doesn’t come packaged in the ways we think it should be.
In other words, I believe in Worship we are invited to listen with humility.
Listening to understand, not to respond.
I’m borrowing that phrase from Restorative Justice circle practice. And I think it translates beautifully into Quaker Worship.
We are not necessarily there to respond to one another’s vocal ministry, although we may be led from another’s vocal ministry into our own.
We certainly don’t want to be reacting to someone’s vocal ministry. And definitely not from the intellect, in a non-Spirit led way.
It’s also kind of like the rules of 12 Step Programs: No crosstalk.
There is time after Meeting for Worship to share something that’s on your heart but doesn’t rise to the level of vocal ministry. Every week after silent Worship, we share Joys and Sorrows.
OK. But this still sounds complicated.
It can be. But it’s also very simple.
The best way to learn is to practice.
Practice settling in.
Practice being silent for an hour.
Practice listening to understand, not to respond.
And then practice some more.
Sure sure, but how do you know if vocal ministry is really something you’re meant to share? Like, what’s the difference between vocal ministry and just itching to say something?
Great question.
Some people just know. Some people aren’t ever sure.
Some folks come to Meeting and don’t know these guidelines and haven’t had the chance to practice and they use Meeting as an audience to opine. It happens.
Some Quakers are led to share often. Some have never felt a leading to vocal ministry in the 40-50 years they’ve been a Quaker.
For me, I’m led every once in awhile. Maybe 5-8 times in the last 20 years would be my guess.
How I know I’m being led is: my heart pounds in a way that is totally unique to vocal ministry. It feels like it will leapfrog right out of my chest.
Sometimes I even start shivering and teeth-chattering like an absolute weirdo.
And as much as I try to make it stop, and say to myself, “Simmer down, Beavis,” it won’t stop. Not until I stand and share.
I dread it, to be honest.
But that’s another thing: if you are feeling led, it means you’re meant to share. It’s kind of selfish to be led by the Spirit to share and decide not to.
OTOH, if you are NOT feeling that deep stirring, and/or it goes away after 20 minutes (or a week) don’t share. It’s self-centered to speak without a leading.
That’s how I see it, at least.
Ask any Quaker and you may get a slightly different answer.
Moving on.
Okay so here’s a photo of our Worship Room again:
What do you notice about our Worship room?
How is it different from a church or synagogue?
You might notice we face each other.
That’s because we believe everyone has a direct connection to God or The Universe or The Great Cosmic Echidna. This is the basis of Quakers’ radical equality. We are all clergy. Or none of us are. You choose.
You might notice we have no iconography of any kind.
This is because we believe in Simplicity - that our direction connection to Spirit, and to each other, is the focus.
There are no candles or decorations.
There are lots of jokes among Quakers about how our paint palette is just shades of beige. Maybe some earth tones, like the green of our chairs.
You might notice there are no Bibles or hymnals.
That’s because we don’t have a dogma or doctrine. For real.
There are Bibles in the library, along with Quaker history and testimonies. There are also books from other faiths and religions. There are a whole lot of books about peace, nonviolence, anti-racism, and social justice.
You can legit be a Buddhist and a Quaker. Our Meeting also includes Friends who were raised Jewish and still identify as culturally Jewish. I’m honestly not sure how many culturally or religiously Muslim Friends we have. I’m just realizing this as I type. Interesting. I’ll look into that. Anyway, we’ve also got a lot of agnostics. And we’ve got a lot of Christians. Maybe some Baha’is?
Quakers are historically Christian. Yes. It’s true.
Quakers grew out of the European “radical reformation” movements of the 1600s. Quakerism started in England with George Fox, his wife Margaret Fell, and a group of roving radicals. This was during a time of political and religious upheaval, with peasant wars and the English Civil War and the Church being all problematical and stuff (not that it isn’t still).
Do I consider myself Christian?
Yes, in that Jesus is a big part of my heart and I deeply appreciate his teachings. I mean his actual teachings about mercy, love, and social justice; about attending to the poor, bereaved, outcast, sick, and imprisoned. I do NOT mean reactionary hate or “prosperity gospel” horseshit.
No, in that Jesus is not my “savior” or someone I think anyone needs to love or believe in to be a good person or go to “heaven” or whatevs. Not even a little.
Do you have to be Christian to be Quaker nowadays?
No. Definitely, no.
Anyone can come to Quaker Meeting, and you can come as a guest or not an “official” Quaker as long as you like.
Becoming Quaker
If you’d like to become a member of Quaker Meeting, you become a member of your Meeting, and I guess that’s as official as it gets.
In Durham Friends Meeting, the process is that you write a letter to Ministry and Counsel? Or wait, maybe it’s the Clerk of Meeting? Honestly, it’s been so long I forget. Anyway, you write a letter saying you’d like to become a member. And then Ministry and Counsel, which is a standing committee, gathers a Clearness Committee for you.
What in el mundo is a Clearness Committee?
This is one of the best things about Quakers!
A Clearness Committee is a group of Friends — usually about three or four — who gather with you to help you become clear on something. Clear meaning gain clarity.
So a Clearness Committee for membership is a group who meets with you to help you be clear on membership. There are also Clearness Committees for marriage by the Meeting, and you can request a Clearness Committee for other things, too.
The coolest part of a Clearness Committee is that members do not come with their own agenda. The only “agenda” is helping you clarify your thoughts and feelings.
That’s the beauty. It’s a circle of listening and reflection. With a big dash of Spirit.
I mean. Y’all. How often in your life do you get to sit in a circle of attentive, loving, thoughtful listeners, who are just there to listen to you and help you discern your path?
Like all Quaker Meetings, in a Clearness Committee, you settle in with silence, and you settle out with silence. In between, you talk. The members of the Clearness Committee might ask questions, but they are open-ended, never leading or pointed questions. They are, for real, just questions to help you think through your options, or your decision, or to help you listen to the leadings you may be experiencing.
It is SUCH a gift.
I was soooooo nervous to meet with my Clearness Committee for membership.
How many times would we have to meet? Would I have to convince them I knew what I was doing? (Like I’d had to so many times in my teens, in therapy groups? And then later, with the cops and my rape?) What would it be like to be in the hot-seat? All that attention focused on moi?
But it was wonderful. It was so great.
They gave me such warm and loving attention.
We met once and after talking a little while, they were like, “You seem very clear!” and I was like, “Yes, I am!” and we laughed and they hold a special place in my heart to this day.
Thank you. You know who you are.
Well y’all. Rer usual I’ve written more than I planned. So we’ll leave it here for now.
I may write more about Quakers, including What DO Quakers actually believe? in the future. I’d love to know your questions! Leave them in the comments or email me.
Thanks, as ever, for reading. Extra especial gratitude to paid subscribers.
Until next time,
XOXO
A lovely meeting space and I remember a woman who used to hold a space in her home in my town. Does everyone give to support the space? Thank you for sharing your writing.
Thank you so much for this explanation and emotion!