In his book set for release later this month, T. Vail Palmer, Jr., writes that "through most of our history, Friends have taken the Bible seriously and have looked to it for guidance. Friends have been leaders in testifying against war and working for peace, in recognizing the equality of women and men in Christian ministry, in working against slavery and advocating for social justice."
Yet he notes that we find in the Bible, passages that instruct women to be silent in the churches (1 Corinthians 14:34), that call for the destruction of entire people groups (1 Samuel 15:2-3), that suggest poverty is intractable (Matthew 26:11), that require the submission of slaves (Titus 2:9).
"The earliest Friends constantly quoted the Bible," Palmer writes, "and it is clear that their pioneering positions on matters such as war, women’s ministry, and justice derive from their understanding of the Bible."
"How can this be?" he asks.
This question is vital. It's why I'm convinced that Palmer's book, Face to Face: Early Quaker Encounters with the Bible, is important. It sometimes seems—in the presence of cultural change—that the Bible is more hindrance than help. But Palmer's study of how early Quakers used scripture offers some old approaches to the Bible that just might breathe new life into our contemporary contexts.
Here's one of Palmer's noticings: "The writings of George Fox, Edward Burrough, and Margaret Fell demonstrate that at least these three, first-generation Friends, were reading the Bible with empathy. For them the heart of the Bible lay in its personal narratives. Out of this empathetic reading emerged not only some of their strange behaviors . . . but also their innovative understanding of the Christian way of life."
And there is more.
Here at Barclay Press, we're working to have the first run done by Monday, July 25. I hope you'll get a copy. I think you'll find Palmer's work as helpful as I have.
Eric Muhr
Culture only takes us so far
I once heard someone define culture as a kind of collection of answers to everyday problems. Not necessarily the best answers. Just good enough for us to function without having to analyze every decision. This morning, I put on clothes, ate breakfast, drove on the right side of the road, placed my order at the coffee shop in ounces and with English words. I didn't have to think very hard about any of it.
That's culture. But culture only takes us so far.
Sometimes we find ourselves in new places. Sometimes we don't know the answer (or even the language). Sometimes this not knowing is fun and creative—a welcome challenge. Sometimes it's not.
Yesterday's study in Illuminate considers Paul's discussion of eating food sacrificed to idols (1 Corinthians 8). It's a question that used to have a clear answer for the Corinthians but that—as a result of freedom found in Christ—no longer does. They had to figure out what to do, and they didn't all just agree, probably at least in part because many of the believers came from different sub-cultures (a discussion for another time).
Kara Wenger suggests the tension was between license and legalism. As if we could blame the problem on those disrespectful kids who just want to get away with stuff and don't care about the rules. As if we could blame the problem on those stodgy, old traditionalists who are stuck in the past.
When it comes to real people, it's never quite that cut and dried. Unfortunately.
The benefit of culture is that it saves us time, makes it easier to function in a world where other people can't be avoided. It helps us to get along. The problem is that culture keeps moving. It is dynamic and fluid, subject to change without notice.
Kind of like people.
So what do we do?
Kara suggests we approach the question, whatever it is, through love—love of God and love for each other: "The church's goal should be to love." And she challenges us to remember that "how [we] treat one another through life's ups and downs . . . building each other up in love" is ultimately the only answer to whatever cultural question we face.
So what questions are you facing today? And in the face of those questions, how are you doing at loving one another?
Eric Muhr
Children and Quaker process
Sometimes we don't have language for the things we do. We just do them.
Clerking a Quaker meeting for business is one such task. Facilitating group discernment engages a variety of interpersonal skills, and—especially when the question under consideration is emotionally charged—it can get complicated. A friend of mine once asked how exactly one learns to be a clerk. I didn't have an answer. Another friend hazarded a response: "I guess it's just something you learn to do by listening."
We agreed it wasn't a very helpful response. Several others jumped into the discussion, trying to put into words this thing we've all experienced but didn't quite know how to explain. It got complicated.
Later, I did what I normally do after that kind of discussion. I started looking for resources. And I found one—a book for children—that was so simple and clear, I decided to offer it through the Barclay Press bookstore.
With support from Wellesley Monthly Meeting, Nancy Haines wrote and Anne Nydam illustrated a story about children who are deciding what to do with the money they raised in a hot dog sale, Approved!: A Story About Quaker Meeting for Business. The genius of this book is an eleven-word description of what it means to clerk a meeting for business: "She leads the meetings and helps us as we make decisions."
In the story, the children self-manage, coloring quietly if they don't have something to say, so they "can still be a part of our community." After a financial report, they try, as best they can, "to listen to God." They share a variety of ideas, recognizing that "sometimes we have to listen to God and to each other for a long time until we know what is best for our community." And when one of the children doesn't get what she wants, she admits that even though she "really wanted to give the money to help animals," she knows that the proposed minute "is right for our group."
There's a reminder at the end of the book that "children are quite capable of participating in Quaker process." Maybe because it's not actually complex at all. Just hard.
Eric Muhr