Fighting for the Kingdom

"Then was I willing to give my body to death, in obedience to my God, to free my soul from sin, and I joined with that little remnant which said they fought for the gospel, but I found no rest to my soul amongst them.

And the word of the Lord came unto me and said "Put up thy sword into thy scabbard; if my kingdom were of this world, then would my children fight",

which word enlightened my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity, and that the Kingdom of God was within, and the enemies was within, and was spiritual, and my weapons against them must be spiritual, the power of God."

William Dewsbury.1621-1688

Giving Peace (Lilies) a Chance.

About two months ago my daughter arrived downstairs with a house plant. This one had been on a top shelf for a while. Its few yellow straggling leaves were now folded over as if they could no longer face the world. The soil was like a hard ball of dust, very light and had no resemblance to the size or shape of the pot. Dropping off along the route to our compost heap, were spiky bits that were once leaves but now looked a like straw. My daughter knew that this desperate case was just the sort of present that I like. As if to dispel all possible doubt of its suitability as a gift, she announced that it had not flowered for a while!

Once breakfast was cleared away, it was surgery time by the kitchen sink, removing all the dead leaves and then re-potting. That long soak in a bucket of water must have seemed a bit excessive to a plant that only had a few leaves left. Having made this initial commitment, it was then given the right kind of light and told very firmly to recover.

Each morning I have a routine of drawing back the curtains and then looking round my straggly assortment of houseplants to see if anything's needed. It soon became apparent I have a particularly demanding patient. This did not seem very fair, as if I was being taken advantage of in some way. Whereas in my daughter's care, this plant had clung on in desert conditions, for me it guzzles water, wants feeding on a very regular basis and even the occasional dust! I could imagine in a real hospital it would be ringing the emergency bell summoning the nurse with a great sense of urgency whenever a leaf touches the wall. If there's a staffing problem, or some other patient takes priority, it goes yellow and wilts in a flash.

It is not a particularly well-kept secret that some people talk to their plants. In most cases this is positive re-inforcement, encouraging them to grow. With some very naughty demanding plants you have to bite your tongue, even though all the evidence suggests that "someone" does not deserve this second chance, is taking you for a ride, and the human race would be overcome by tryphids if everyone was like you. These straggly relics do not have sweet smelling, colourful flowers and vibrant foliage for visitors to admire. Instead of feeling entitled to discard and replace at will, they are a reminder of how my bedroom window was already crammed full of casualties when I was a child, and that this time-wasting, insidious, rescuing habit can so easily become second nature.

For those afflicted by the rescuing bug, trips to the garden centre are focused on the "DD Section" (short for Dead and Dieing). Here you need to prepare yourself for a crime scene, where there is ignorance, well-intentioned spoiling, the wrong kind of care, bug infestation, neglect or the quite unreasonable fault of now being out of season. Instead of seeing only the dark side of gardening, there is the challenge. Before they even recognised themselves as being trophies, such plants get gathered up lovingly in a very Quakerly way because I like to think there is hope for plants whatever the situation.

As Quakers I do not think we should ignore the "DD section" in our world. Belief in the possibilities does not enable us to be content with wilting leaves that have assumed unnatural colours, disassociation from our roots, and those prickly dry sticks of ministry which have a tendency to drop away. Instead there is the option to draw back the curtains, look honestly at a situation to see what is needs. Since surgery is not an entire solution, we need to show patience, rather than believe our opinion and the manner in which we express it is enough. We can be persistent in the small ways. Each day there is the challenge and the opportunity to use discernment, resolve all forms of drought through immersion in a bucket of water, and accept that most conflict situation require cherishing in some way.

 This morning my peace lily finally produced a flower. 

A Quaker Experience of Guidance.

"The Lord who was the guide of my youth hath in tender mercies helped me hitherto; He hath healed my wounds; He hath helped me out of grievous entanglements; He remains to be the strength of my life, to whom I desire to devote myself in time and in eternity."

Written by John Woolman at the foot of a list of Ministers and Elders of Burlington, New Jersey in 1767

Life lessons from an elderly relation.

For years I used feel slightly guilty when people would ask "Do you work?" and then annoyed when my reply seemed to provoke an assumption that it did not amount to much. Sometimes it is hard to describe or even notice the small tasks so at the end of each day, it would be a complete mystery why I should be so tired. It never seemed as if I was doing anything important and that used to worry me.

Lately through visiting a very elderly relation I have learnt that sometimes it is enough just to be there. Whilst everyone else has been busy out there achieving things, we have both gained over the past few years through having discovered time opportunities to be with each other.

Through taking on a commitment to visit, I have received a smile of recognition on a regular basis. It is lovely to be asked how I am, and for news of all the younger family members. In that way alone I feel valued.

At times we would grumble about how the modern world has got all its priorities wrong. It would seem from talking to my aunt that we do not grow or eat enough vegetables these days, we snack all the time in a way that was quite unheard of in her youth, everyone is too competitive, under so much pressure and that some of the rituals associated with belonging to a family have been lost. Through her descriptions I have a very much better idea what it must be like living by the sea. We have shared ideas on how to grow vegetables, cookery attempts that went wrong, and talked a great deal about nature.

My aunt was brought up to be stoical. When you have nursed patients in a London hospital during the blitz, it can also shape your perspective. She has taught me to make best use of the opportunities you have rather than waste any time over what you have not. Instead of grieving about her falls, failing health and increasing blindness, we try to make each moment as good as it can get.

Lately it has been harder to hold a conversation because my aunt gets very tired. We are as a result now about a third of the way through her favourite childhood book, learning about Winnie the Pooh together. For me this is a very humbling experience.

When there are practical problems, this tells me as much about my own weakness, how I need to be patient, understanding and adapt my expectations to another person's needs. At times I used to joke to my aunt about being an absolutely rubbish nurse, with a tendency to trip over the patient rather than be of any practical use. It may seem there are other things I might do with my time than to visit an old lady on a regular basis, but I honestly believe the things we do for love last forever. 

Even though my aunt managed some of her cup of tea during my last visit, it is so tiring and difficult eating. It seems she is getting smaller every time I see her. When the phone rings at an unexpected time, I am always thinking and worrying that it might be something to do with her. It is sensible to be prepared but even more sensible to feel so proud of someone you have gradually got to know, and tell others not to be afraid of developing an opportunity to listen out for someone you love.

Quaker Laundry

Through working mostly at home most of my life, I have gradually developed a routine. Other members of the family may not be fully aware of this, although it generally understood that Friday night is for curry, and on Mondays, both they and my long suffering recorder teacher get cake!

As part of my routine, it is possible to tell what day it is by  the weight of the laundry basket. Fridays is for working through it, and so I can hear that long-suffering washing machine working away in the background. Each time the noise changes to a triumphant peep, there is a break to put its contents out to dry.

From looking at the writing of early Quakers, it would seem they also tended to get caught up in a routine. Since this was an agricultural society, there was much talk among themselves of "seeds", "threshing" and the prospect of huge "harvests", particularly within urban areas "ripe for the gathering". These days it may be much harder for those in a more affluent society to appreciate how much survival depended on doing things at the right time of year to the best of your ability and then knowing all too well how much you relied upon God for the weather.

The way we feel about work would seem to have changed very little over the centuries. At times it can give us a lift, even a sense of importance, although the reality for most people is often more about grind, working through the list, stress, scrutiny, competition and that pressing need to somehow get on with your colleagues. Just as Early Quakers would look forward to a harvest safety gathered in, we might still anticipate the empty in-box on our computers, and a job well done.

The way I feel about my laundry basket this morning would seem fairly typical of a Quaker. Even though it seems most unattractive at this present moment, I know that it has potential. For me it is a case of holding on to that belief, and being honest about the challenge ahead. Even though my washing machine has a "Mixed load" cycle where clothes are sloshed around at 40 degrees then spun very fast, laundry would seem like people, best to understand first before you try to change them.

The woolly items are easy to identify. These soft sensitive characters whom among Quakers tend to be very interested in the right type of consumerism and saving planet earth need to be treated gently. With a critical approach, they can shrink very small. Instead I think we should recognise the value of our Quaker way of life, and its sincerity. Use low temperatures, and Dry them as flat as they need. Wool provides warmth, a welcome and can make you feel very comfortable in Meeting.

Within any group of people, there are the strong characters, with a tendency to share their opinions and whose colours spread in the wash. Rather than bewail this sudden spread of darkness, it is best to be prepared, recognise that it may not be the individual at fault but the response. Although strong colours tend to generate a reaction, it may be helpful to remember that those with a message, may also need to be treated at a low temperature. Through inviting a response, they might well have been hurt before.

Synthetic characters also require understanding, patience and a particular type of care. Even though the net curtains have assumed a stubborn shade of grey, this may be because they have been hung up to attract all the dust. This does seem particularly unfair, not something we would readily do to clothes and particularly stressful having to minister to the neighbours for a while.
 Some items are not merely externals, concerned only with appearance. These have been in the most difficult and demanding situations, shown strength as their primary characteristic, and so cannot always expect to seem lovely.

Within or around laundry baskets there are those items in denial, refusing to admit there could possibly be anything wrong. These "dry clean only" items are sometimes laid across the top, getting in other clothes way and looking a little lacking in direction. Such items tend to accumulate dirt slowly and smell a little chemically sometimes. They claim they are worth the investment, much too precious and sensitive for washing. These stubborn characters would rather be thrown away than admit to being anything less than perfect.

Such garments do not tend to relate very well to natural fibres, grounded upon truth, ready to endure whatever the washing machine throws at them, well used to hot water. At times they get a little creased and difficult to iron entirely flat, although those prepared to stand out and ask questions are like a breath of fresh air to a Meeting.

The way we clean our clothes would seem to have changed a great deal since our seventeenth century beginnings. Washing clothes, particularly in the winter must have been particularly hard. Collars, cuffs and bits under the arms could be removed so you did not have to clean the whole garment every time. The chemicals they used were to hand, typically urine as a bleach, clothes were churned around in a tub or beaten on smooth stones at the local river. It may be assumed that most people wore their clothes much longer before washing them. At this point it would seem diplomatic not to say anything very much about George Fox's trousers that he wore for many years to ride about the country on horseback and were apparently made of leather!

The symbolism of washing is shared by many faiths. It begins by recognising what it is really like to be human, that we have our temptations, our weakness, that things may go badly wrong, and yet we can do something about it. Our faults might be seen as an ugly mark, although all the time we are changing, given experience from which there is an opportunity to grow. 

Being suddenly plunged in hot water can be quite alarming besides painful but there is a wider picture. We may not always emerge glowing white, but honesty and a willingness to learn from experience marks a new beginning every time.

Quaker Castle Tour part 5- Introduction to Quaker Heraldry

Before commencing today's tour, it may be helpful to explain how castles are usually built on two levels. In the centre there is the mound or motte. This is the strongest point so the castle owner would usually live in a stone keep built on top. A lower level called the bailey occupies a considerably larger area. It is protected by the moat, walls, towers at strategic points and a gatehouse. In this area you might find the homes of servants employed directly by the castle owner, besides workers engaged in a considerable number of support industries such as making arms, or caring for the horses. Since castle residents were dependent on the surrounding area for food and raw materials, the bailey also provided the obvious location for trade.

In times of unrest the population of a castle bailey could increase dramatically as refugees from the surrounding area sought safety within its walls. Although this influx of additional families put considerable pressure on a castle's resources, particularly if it was under siege, this responsibility to the wider community was generally understood.

Within the bailey of a Quaker Meeting are those altruistic members who might very well feel like servants, employed most of the time! Others drop in on a fairly regular basis to provide a range of services. Some would seem almost indispensable, whilst others caught up with a range of other concerns and not particularly central to the service of a meeting. In times of war, Quaker Meetings also tend to experience a sudden influx of visitors, drawn by the attraction of our peace testimony. Like castles, we have a responsibility to the wider community even though we might well feel a lone minority, under siege and our resources very small.

Just as those living within a castle bailey were a community, Quakers also tend to see themselves united though sharing a particular way of life. A traditional framework provided by our testimonies is quite regularly added to so that it might almost be assumed Quakers in England these days prefer to grow their own vegetables, choose to buy organic, aspire to a particular type of interior design, have a predictable choice of newspapers, read intellectual books, listen to Radio 4, attend the theatre, and have a somewhat time-consuming tendency to join local choirs. Although none of these activities are bad or subversive, those features describing "A Quaker Way of life" may surround a castle, enhance much that goes on within it, but they not its strongest point.

Those living within the bailey might also have been very busy with their own lives and so at times forgot what really went on in the keep. Through the feudal structure of society at this time, there was however always a direction and a focus. In general the best of any commodity they produced usually went to their lord. At times people may have resented this obligation and considered it most unfair. When the castle was attacked however, this same framework of leadership offered guidance and support.

This relationship between a lord and his subjects came to be represented in a considerable number of places about the bailey. The presence of a flag was a reminder of ownership and that their lord was close by. Even though most people were unable to read, they recognised the colours and pictures on it, some significance in the design, a motto of relevance, and knew that even though this represented the property of their Lord, it was their community as well.

At times of crisis we may run back to our Meeting Houses for support, even answers although it is also possible to get disorientated by life in the bailey. In the way we treat each other, through lack of patience, understanding, jealousy and lack of honesty, even Quaker Meetings so easily revert to manufacturing arms. Quaker heraldry can at times be very hard to find.

For those living with and around a Quaker Castle, we should perhaps be looking out for some banner displayed even above our testimonies, that says we are accountable and our Lord is close by. Though living below this banner, we have a sense of identity and place, knowing that we are subjects. Within this castle there is a contract and understanding between us.

At times it may be necessary to seek discernment because the property of our Lord, particularly within the human heart, can seem very small. It may appear no bigger than a mustard seed, but within the castle there is everything we need. Throughout creation, even within our own hearts there are the heraldic devices stamped everywhere as a reminder. These define our allegiance. We know through the motto of scripture our Lord's intent. Early Quakers were for example, very often talking of "The Word" which had come among them. Through Quaker heraldry we are able to recognise the limitations of our own wealth, status and property since all that we have is of a much meaner quality, loaned merely for our time on earth.

Our Quaker Castle is not about supremacy over other religions and very far from being the only authentic one about. We should not be arrogant, insular or intolerant because the Kingdom of our Lord may include any number of settlements such as ours. Through trade and dialogue with other faiths, we can become stronger, more sure of our own identity and not lose out on the opportunity for a shared spiritual allegiance. To whichever castle we belong, there is an identity, and legal framework on which we can trust. Here we can have absolute confidence in the strength of our protector, loyal to his purpose and so transform all our doings with love to be a part of the Kingdom.

Quaker Castle Tour part 4- The walls. Digging down deep, re-discovering foundations.

On November 9th 1989, the Berlin wall dividing East from West Germany began being dismantled by crowds of ordinary people. Other parts of the world watched mesmerised on TV. All border controls ended on July 1st 1990 and from October 3rd 1990 Germany was recognised as being one country again. At about this time I came to realise how afraid my parents had been during my childhood of atomic bombs, fearing at certain moments of international crisis that someone would lose patience and there would be immediate destruction. Although such fears have by no means gone away, it would seem to me that bringing up children so soon after two World Wars and the invention of the atomic bomb, must have seemed a huge risk. Not surprisingly, my generation has grown up with a very strong perception that opposing ideals as symbolised by walls built to divide people, are almost invariably bad.

These times it might also seem that walls have been superseded by the technical advances of air-power. Whereas Emperor Hadrian had been able to see his strategic line of defence across Northern Britain as a complete solution against barbarian attacks on the Roman Empire, we are able to view this architectural feature on our computers using satellites from space. In a comperable way, those walls of identity and hostility towards each other created by religion are very often regarded with a different perspective, using additional knowledge available through science, the intellect and reason.

It would seem of some significance that early Quakers also grew up at a time when walls were being taken down. In the past castles had been built with archers in mind so it was an advantage to have strategic high points, and narrow arrow slits in the walls. The introduction of gunpowder with its associated weaponry obliged many castle owners to reduce the size of the target by lowering walls, strengthening them with banks from the inside, and increasing the size of arrow-slits so musketeers could use them. Early Quakers reduced the impact of theology by removing the dependency on creeds, strengthened their defences through their emphasis upon truth, and through toleration, increasingly widened the windows.

During the years of English Commonweath, castles were systematically destroyed to prevent a resumption of the recent Civil War. At this time of so many religious sects and the rapid growth of Quakerism, for many people this challenge to traditional knowledge and an understood structure of society seemed like gunpowder to all they held dear. As it seemed the world was being turned upside-down, subjects tended to be more afraid than inspired. Surrounded by so much destruction, it seemed they were to be part of a process in which there would soon be nothing left.

This process of destroying castle walls has since continued. For many Quakers it is now quite understandably assumed that any barrier will limit the availability of knowledge. In wishing to embrace diversity any type of obstruction might serve to exclude people. As a result it may sometimes be very hard to tell whether our priorities and way of Meeting for Worship are still within the castle.

This blurring of identity can make us particularly difficult to find. To compound this problem, a gradual process of evolution and the adoption of new priorities makes us a moving target. At times we throw up an intellectual fog through the way in which we communicate. Such tactics may evade some of the criticism you get with religion but does not make us particularly strong as a castle. Instead of making us more accessible to other faiths, encouraging the process of dialogue, this apparent subterfuge can make it very much harder for other organisations to trust us.

It may be helpful to remember how the walls of a castle could also provide protection and a livelihood through trade. In times of trouble people would come in from the surrounding countryside, believing that the presence of a castle, its ownership and the values it had come to represent might offer them safety. Rather than scale the walls, they approached respectfully and openly through the gate, free to come and leave as they chose, knowing each time they entered the expectations of those responsible for the castle and their own level of commitment.

These days Quaker castles may provide a similar facility for those troubled by life's dilemmas, in need of some support and for Seekers after truth. We may need at times to dig down into our Quaker history, well beyond that sense of identity built up through culture, to re-discover our walls. Whatever height or strength we find them, they mark a boundary, an honest identity, letting people know we are there.