Take publishers, for instance

There's something unique about Quakers. It might be that we have a peculiar singularity of purpose that keeps us moving forward. It might be stubbornness. But the truth is that there's no good reason for the number and variety of Friends institutions in the world.

Take publishers, for instance.

The field of publishing is a place where the news is of budget cuts, reorganizations, mergers, and bankruptcies. Yet Quakers have more than a dozen publishing houses in the U.S. alone. I'm not sure the survival of so many presses is a mark of our success. But it says something — maybe even something good — about what kind of people we are. That we keep going when so many others are giving up. That we are survivors.

Last month, I attended my first meeting of Quakers Uniting in Publications, an international network of Quaker booksellers, authors, and publishers concerned with the ministry of the written word. And much of the talk was of a way forward, of what it might mean that we're still around when so many other religious publishers are being bought out or shut down. We listened in our times of gathered worship for what God might reveal about his place and purpose for us in the world.

So what did we hear?

Some spoke of budget concerns. Some spoke of the need to more creatively engage young Friends through technology. Some spoke of the places in which the world needs us now more than ever. Many of us didn't speak much, but we listened. And there was a shared sense that God continues to call people to feed the hungry, to welcome the stranger, to clothe the naked and care for the sick, to visit the prisoner. And that God continues to use us as vessels through which that call can be carried to the people God calls.

Eric Muhr

This is how life goes

More than half a year has passed since my first day on the job as publisher at Barclay Press. In that time, we've shipped roughly 10,000 items—books, study guides, CDs. We've shared 23 newsletters (this is 24). We're in the middle of two book projects with half a dozen more in the works. We've partnered with EFM in producing Easter Offering materials. We've helped Tilikum Center for Retreats develop an application process for the Christian Writers Cabin they're building. We've replaced three sets of fluorescent tubes, addressed a plumbing problem in the upstairs bathroom, had the carpets cleaned, and saved a failing hard drive. We've taken out the trash on Tuesday nights and brought in the empty trash cans on Wednesday mornings.

This is how life goes. We do what needs to be done, try not to drop any details, and take what time's left over to think about what might come next.

So what comes next?

Well, it won't be long before we're mailing out orders of Illuminate for Fall 2016, a study on Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther. The quarterly includes writing from Bruce Butler, Priscilla Hochhalter, Judith Shoemaker, Nancy Thomas, and Catherine Trzeciak. After that, we'll send out Fruit of the Vine.

In the meantime, we're building an online imprint, which will remain separate from the work we do here at Barclay Press. We hope to have more than a thousand readers and 30 contributors by the end of this summer.

We're also dreaming.

About what God is doing and where God is leading. About how we might plant seeds today—little, tiny seeds—that might one day break into bloom. About what we can do that might make a difference in the world.

Eric Muhr

Deeper than promises

Katie Comfort reminds us in this morning's Fruit of the Vine that, where God is concerned, covenants "go beyond generations. The covenant God made with Abraham is ongoing. The covenant God made with David was finally fulfilled through Christ." And what about God's covenant with me? with you? with us?

Looking out my office window here at Barclay Press, I count three buildings that are part of the George Fox University campus. If I walk out to the parking lot, I can see the yearly meeting offices. Just like the existence of Barclay Press, these buildings are physical reminders of covenants that "go beyond generations." More than one hundred years ago, a generation of small-town Quakers allowed God to use them "to orchestrate elaborate plans for the future," plans that my generation - "both precious and temporary" - gets to be part of as well.

Sometimes, I'm only aware of the temporary part, especially in the day-to-day tensions of unfinished tasks, of looming deadlines, of fear that I'm not enough. I forget that God has been working. Is working. Will continue to work. That I need not fear.

Katie's devotional reflection on Genesis 15:1-6 reminds me that "covenants go deeper than promises," and "they often require more faith." Which is why I find comfort in her prayer "that God will reveal how he is using [me] for his glory in his covenant promises with the church, and that [I] will be faithful to that."

Eric Muhr