I want to echo what Robin has said, that no single Quaker meeting or Quaker church or Quaker individual is perfect… I also find myself wondering if it is part of our spiritual development–for anyone who seeks to worship within a faith community–to experience periods of infatuation and joy, followed by periods of disillusionment and trial.

That’s certainly true in my case.

I worship with unprogrammed Friends in Minnesota and have been among Friends since 1993. But at a time when I questioned the “fit” between myself and the Quaker community where I worshiped, I needed to look to the Spirit and look to another Quaker community to understand (1) I was not released from worshiping in the meeting where my membership was held; and (2) as I received spiritual care from fellow Friends who explicitly placed God at the center of their Quaker faith, I was able to return to worship at the Quaker meeting and offer ministry and service out of love rather than bitterness.

In his email to a few of us, Wess mentioned you serve as a pastor in a Friends Church. So I wonder how much of your own anguish and your own questions have you shared with Friends? I find that when the ministers, pastors, and elders among us make themselves vulnerable–not overly so, but in a grounded, open-hearted way–other Friends begin to look more deeply too.

Also, last year I learned that two or three long-serving Friends on key committees within my own monthly meeting were unwilling to lay down their service, despite health concerns and a growing dysfunction within the committees. I heard from Friends that they were wanting to serve on these particular committees but dare not offer themselves while these other Friends remained–because of personality conflicts, unspoken “rules” of how things were going to be, etc. Then I also learned that two or three OTHER Friends began to meet privately with these long-serving Friends, telling them that perhaps it was time for them to step away, that their gifts had served the meeting well… Apparently it took some rather strong and plain speaking before each Friend laid their service down. Now the respective committees have a completely different makeup and the work goes on.

Inconveniencing ourselves to be “appropriately nosy,” to say difficult but necessary things–with as much love as we can muster–is part of what being Quaker is about, isn’t it?

I believe that God often speaks to us and to our communities through our dissatisfaction. Our community is responsible for watching for fruits of the Spirit, for cultivating the spiritual land upon which we cast God’s seeds, so when there is unrest, we must call on one another to examine what is going on:

Is there a shared understanding of our Quaker tradition and how that tradition may help us engage in our contemporary challenges?

Are there individuals or subgroups that have placed their own agenda in the center of their spiritual life, rather than seeking God’s will and living in accordance with God’s love for self, neighbor, and stranger?

Has America’s individualism crept into our pews and our meetingrooms, making us believe that it’s okay for us to assert our individual preferences and ideas to the extent of leisurely disregarding what it is that the corporate body discerns as the Way forward?

All this to say, yes I have had my own periods of disappointment and disillusionment. Yes, the places where I worship have experienced times of dire complacency, rigid thinking, and nearly empty forms of worship.

And yes, I have found comfort and a reflection of myself in the “Convergent conversation,” though I never identify myself as a Convergent Friend. Rather, I am a Friend who cares about how we engage in our Quaker heritage. I find great value in traveling among Friends, which is where I learn that my own Quaker community is in no ways unique in its flaws or its gifts.

It means something to be part of a family, and being part of the Religious Society of Friends (and Family) is no different: there are “relatives” I don’t care for and there are “cousins” who inspire me and who are patterns of how to be in the world…

I get through my “oceans of darkness” by reading early Friends; by reading blogs written by Quakers who speak to my condition; by holding my concern in the Light and giving it over to God; by holding myself in the Light and asking for God to help me stay low…

If it is easier for you to communicate one-on-one with any of us, please let us know that. You are asking important questions; I pray that you will remember you are Accompanied as you live into the answers with grace and love.

Blessings,
Liz Opp(enheimer), The Good Raised Up

I’m glad to hear that the articles on this site are helpful to you. If I may say so myself, I recommend the article “How do I find other convergent Friends?”

I think that the impetus for convergent Friends is the desire to connect with others who are trying to live a more faithful, and sometimes less convenient, life in the manner of Friends. Some of us are deeply involved in the work of our Meetings and Churches, and some of us feel quite alienated from the closest Quaker body. Some meetings are difficult and unwelcoming and some of us are cranky and annoying. It goes both ways, and it varies from day to day and year to year, kind of like everything else in life.

But “vital, alive, full of God’s light, passionate” are things I want to be too. I believe the Holy Spirit is calling us to this life, and if we clear the decks of the stuff that prevents us from responding fully, we can all, each one of us, live that way. But it may not look the same for each of us and that is part of the fun and the frustration of the Holy Spirit.