The Association of Bad Friends

"So you're a Quaker?" I get that question a lot since I travel a good bit schlepping my books. People always seem a bit intrigued -- as if surprised any of us still exist. I usually answer, "Yes, a bad Quaker." Eyebrows generally raise at that. Then I go on to explain that, though I have been a member of the Religious Society of Friends all my life, I'm just not very good at being a Quaker. I find that I frequently fail to live up to the ideals of our Religious Society -- I'm not always peaceable, humble, truthful, ... well that's enough confession. While confession might be good for the soul, too much is enough to send a depressive like me into an emotional tailspin. But now you know why I say I am a "bad Quaker."

I have been comforted to find that I'm not the only one. Indeed, there are a number of us out there. Not that I'm going to name any. As I've discovered in my 58 years of Friendship, those who some people consider bad Quakers are often quite good Friends and some quite bad Friends are considered good Quakers.

So, other than obvious exceptions (like John Dillinger above), I think "bad Quaker" needs to be a form of self-nomination. One has to name one's-own-self a bad Quaker -- no one else can do it for thee.

I was thinking about this for lots of reasons (for one, there's a good deal of talk around these parts of Indiana about who's a good Quaker -- as defined by a certain Yearly Meeting's book of Faith and Practice -- and who's not), but mostly because one of my favorite self-named "bad Quakers" by the name of Jacob Stone sent me an email containing the following questions -- "Should we form the Association of Bad Friends??? Or Rogue Quakers of America???"

Whilst RQA has a certain ring to it (and slightly parallels the RSF), I think I'd go with the Association of Bad Friends (ABF). I've never thought of myself as a rogue -- I do like to heckle the herd from within, not lead it off into a new direction. And I think "of America" is a little too parochial. There are bad Quakers across the globe, aren't there?

So, I am hereby feeling led to begin the first local chapter of the here-to-fore non-existent Association of Bad Friends. You can only self-nominate. If you'd like to join, just reply to this blog or send me an email at brentbil@brentbill.com.

Non-Friends are eligible to join the Friends of the Association of Bad Friends (FABF) -- so long as they would consider themselves bad Friends were they actually Quakers.

I'll be designing membership cards shortly.

-- Brent

P.S. As Jacob also noted -- "When I think about being a recalcitrant Quaker I am always reminded of a line from Rumi's poetry: 'Your sweet blasphemy is the truest devotion.'" Indeed.

Discerning Questions

I just returned from Memphis, Tennessee where I was presenting a series of workshops on "The Sacred Compass: The Way of Spiritual Discernment" at the Baptist College of Health Sciences. BCHS has about 900 students and focuses on undergraduate health care education. Karen Smith, the Director of Campus Ministries, did a wonderful job putting the program together and she and the students, faculty, and staff made me feel very welcome.

I ended each session by offering a "Query" for the students and staff to ponder -- based on the Quaker tradition of using questions for reflection and as spiritual exercises. The final session was titled "Discerning Questions" and I offered a whole host of queries that they could use as part of their discernment processes. And I offered them the opportunity to ask questions of me about spiritual discernment. Now, by and large, they were a pretty quiet group (I joked a time or two that I had done the impossible -- turned Baptists into Quakers -- that's how silent they were), so during the "Discerning Questions" session, I asked them to write their questions, which I would then try to answer. I hoped to get one or two really good ones and end our time together by answering things close to their hearts and souls.

I got more than one or two. And the time ran out before I could answer more than one or two. I didn't get a chance to read them all until after I got home, but when I did, I decided they were too good not to share. So here they are -- no answers, just the questions (well, most of them -- there were a couple along the lines of "Is it God's will for the Memphis Tigers to have a #1 seed in the NCAA basketball tourney?" That's just silly -- everyone knows God is Buckeye's fan).

The questions:

• What do you think is the most important tool or tools to carry with you on your journey through life toward God's will?
• In my prayers I include "Let God's will be done," but how do I know it's God's will?
• What is God's will?
• What should you do if you feel called to do more than one thing, or maybe many things. Okay, maybe so many things you don't know how you will do them all in a life span?
• What is spiritual discernment?
• Is it wrong to ask for a sign from God?
• How, after make so many journeys that have failed, do you know what direction to go?
• Why is it so much easier (or seem to be) for folks to discern God's will/plan for other people?
• It seems easier to see God's involvement through "the rear view mirror." How do we discern where God is moving ahead?
• What if you think you are going in the right direction but don't like it or feel empty about it?
• How can you effectively listen to God related to the direction one might be going?
• Should I always seek God's approval before I make any life choices?
• How do I listen and hear what God wants for me in my life?
• I feel like I'm being used to do God's work. But recently I have been feeling disconnected from God. How do I reclaim my connection to God -- to follow his plans for me?

Really good questions. Thoughtful. Important. Questions we all need to wrestle with.

As the session ended on Friday, I had time for one more question and one more PowerPoint slide (I gave a lot of my presentation on PowerPoint). The question was "How do you figure out what God's will is for you versus what you think your purpose in life is?" The final slide I had prepared to share was this, "The vocation for you is the one in which your deep gladness and the world’s deep need meet—something that not only makes you happy but that the world needs to have done. --Frederick Buechner."

I think that says it all. God brought it all together -- six sessions, caring staff and students, wise questions, and an answer that fits the Sacred Compass and its leading us to the face of our loving God.

-- Brent

Here They Go Again -- and So Here I Go Again

Well, it's been an interesting day. I was invited to give the morning sermon at a lovely little Meeting just around the corner from the farm. That went pretty well (considering the quality of the preacher) and we had a nice visit over lunch with a couple of F(f)riends from there. As we ate lunch at a local eatery, another Friends pastor walked in -- one who has had some controversy about him. One of the friends we were with is clerk of the Yearly Meeting committee that has been charged with (hmmmm, will try to choose my words wisely here) um, "visiting" with this Friend to ascertain his "fitness" for continuing as a Quaker minister.

Hogwash. The fellow in question's congregation is growing, people are coming to hear about God and faithful living, he is growing spiritually and certain factions want to quibble about nuances of theology? Which, frankly, Quakers have never had as their long-suit. Just try to pin down George Fox or William Penn or Mary Dyer about the subtleties of theological belief. Can't be done.

But anyhoo, I soon learned that this was a big topic of discussion at the local Yearly Meeting's board meetings yesterday. And I was reminded of a response to a post I had made concerning Quakers and the Pastoral System.

In part, the writer said, "Also, the pastoral system itself, of having a paid staff member, seems to tend to cause a Yearly Meeting to move more toward typical Protestant ways. ... In my experience and reading, it would seem that the pastoral system usually leads Yearly Meetings to move away from the testimonies and toward typical Protestant forms, theology and ethical views. And though Friends pastors are called recorded ministers and are supposed to be different from ordained clergy, in day-to-day relations with the members of the Meeting I couldn't see any difference from the ordained ministers in other denominations.I don't think it has to be this way, but a paid staff does seem to lead to such changes."

Well, this seemed a little harsh at the time to me, but after conversations today, I'm beginning to think, regretfully, that perhaps this is too true. Especially at the Yearly Meeting that is located closest to me.

The setting up of a pastoral system is fraught with the potential for abuse and power-grabbing, unless the pastors are wise and able. And the setting up of Yearly Meeting staff (he says, as a former Yearly Meeting staff person) is even more fraught. If, as the conservative Friends warned over 100 years ago that the pastoral system would lead (gasp!) to a seminary, then Yearly Meeting staff could lead to a Pope. Well, at least a Bishop. Or people who think they are bishops and somehow appointed to protect the purity of ... Of what? Does God need protecting? Does thinking about God and how God works in this world and with God's people need parameters placed around it to keep bad theology (as decided by us) out and good theology nice and safe? Do we need protection from the Holy Spirit moving among Friends and possibly calling us to actually live the Gospel message?

The nation and world is in the midst of one of the darkest times in human history. Economics are a mess. Terrorists, in the name of religion, abound. War is everywhere. Incivility is rampant. And many people are calling for Good News -- hmmm, Gospel?

What will they get from us? Assurance that we have, via the Quaker Inquisition, rid ourselves of heretics who claim that God loves everybody as much as God loves us? Is that what they are asking for? Or are they instead hoping to hear a voice, shorn of theological hairsplitting, that is
that of Jesus, softly and tenderly calling, "Come Home."

Would that we would dare move from righteous wrangling to actually being the people of God that Quakers are called to be.

-- Brent

Indulge Me, Please

It seems I'm always hanging around the wrong people. My grandmother worried that I did that too much when I was a teenager. If she were still alive, I doubt that she'd be pleased that I am still hanging around the wrong people.

By wrong, she meant people who were prone to getting into trouble, didn't share the exact same faith as we did (the TRUE Evangelical Quaker faith -- not the more LIBERAL Evangelical Quaker faith as practiced in Oregon or Kansas or other places), and were, well, smart-asses.

Now few of my friends ever got into *real* trouble, but some held different beliefs (Catholics, fer instance), and a great many were smart-asses. Which I found one of their more endearing qualities.

"How will you ever be a minister with that smart-aleck bent you have?" she'd ask. I mostly murmured or mumbled an answer, but if I'd had a bit more chutzpah, I'd have suggested that a little bit of smart-assness helps the pastoral life go down. And that it was really needed if once was going to succeed as a pastor -- especially in the mixed up Quaker pastoral system, which is neither fish nor fowl, dairy or meat. It just ain't kosher. (But that's a whole 'nother blog. To see some of my thoughts on that, check out http://friendsinfellowship.blogspot.com/2007/10/neither-ceo-nor-slave-paradox-of-quaker.html)

But back to hanging around the wrong people. I recently returned from northern California where I got to spend some time with Gretta and Jacob Stone, directors of Quaker Center in Ben Lomond. Now they're the right kind of people in my book, but Grandmother Bill would probably see it different. For one, they believe much differently than I do (which in her book would make them "wrong"). And Jacob especially has this wacky humourous side that edges on smart-assness. Which meant we got along famously.

One night he was sharing one of his fundraising ideas. After all, many Friends groups are struggling for funds, so perhaps it was time for something new -- tithes and offerings and appeal letters don't seem to be working. How about, he suggested, the selling of Quaker indulgences?

Here's how it could work (with apologies, somewhat to Jacob for stealing his idea and going completely wild with it). Let's say you're like me -- a bad Quaker. I don't mean evil, I just mean, not very good at it. And as a bad Quaker someone has really ticked you off and you'd just love to smack some sense into them. Under the Quaker Indulgences Plan, you could donate $500 (in addition to your regular giving) to your favorite Friendly organization and in return they would issue you an one day indulgence from the Peace Testimony. Then you could skip calling your Lutheran brother-in-law, and just go slap the offender silly yourownself.

Or let's say you need to buy a new car. For $100 you could spend a day not looking at hybrids or 10 year old Volvos with millions of miles on them and head directly to the Audi dealer and try out a new S8 -- all 10 cylinders of it. A day off from the Simplicity testimony.

Maybe for $50 you could get an indulgence from taking oaths -- like, say, if you got called for jury duty. "Do you swear" -- and everybody else says "Yes" and you stand there silently while everybody wonders what kind of doofus you are for not raising your right hand and swearing along with the rest of them. The embarrassment saving factor is worth $50.

Well, I could go on -- but I hear Grandmother tsk, tsking in my inner ear. Or was that the Inner Light? They couldn't be in cahoots, could they?

-- Brent

A Poem for Christmas Morning

A Child in Starlight -- by Elmer Diktonius

There is a child,
A new-born child --
A rosy, new-born child.

The child whimpers --
All children do.
And the mother takes the child to her breast.
Then it is quiet.
So is every child.

The roof is not over tight --
Not all roofs are.
And the star puts
Its silver muzzle through the chink,
And steals up to the little one's head.
Stars like children.

And the mother looks up at the star
And understands --
All mothers understand.
And presses her frightened baby
To her breast --
But the child sucks quietly in starlight:
All children suck in starlight.

It knows nothing yet about the cross:
No child does.

Do You Hear What I Hear

“Do you hear what I hear?” the Harry Simeone Chorale asks in a popular Christmas carol.

I hear a lot of things. Carols come from my car radio, television advertisers me warn that there are only so many shopping days left, phone calls invite me to holiday gatherings – or inform me that the church is one shepherd short for Friday night’s live nativity and I need to be there at five sharp to don our costume. There’s shopping to be done, meals to be made, cards to be addressed and sent. Yes, it’s Christmastime … and it’s busy.

What about Jesus? Is there room for Him in the Advent Inn’s schedule, or is it full up? Taking time for moments of holy silence can clear some space for this Savior King who comes clothed in baby’s flesh. That’s because silence is where Quakers believe we encounter the real presence of Christ. Jesus comes to us in the peace of the silence, a silence which is an active going toward God, seeking a glimpse of the One whose coming we celebrate. If we take some space for silence this season, we will hear the Voice that speaks not only in words, but also in gentle tugs on our hearts and in the beauty our eyes behold in the lights, the sights, sounds, and people surrounding us this season. So stop. Relax your body and mind. Breathe deeply; slowly and gently. Savor the silence. And listen.

“Do you hear what I hear?”

-- Brent

'Tis the Season to be Jolly -- or Not...

"Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la. ..."

Oh yeah? Well, not for everybody. I ws thinking about that while getting ready for Meeting for Worship yesterday. I was thinking about some of my best friends and how they and I might be considered by some an emotionally/mentally motley crew. I have friends who are bi-polar, depressive, in therapy, attending 12 step programs, etc. And I'm prone to depression and panic attacks -- thank Heaven (literally) for a good doctor and Paxil. We're a walking, talking illustration (it sometimes seems) of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).

I used to think this was a bad thing -- as in I should be ashamed (especially of my own "abnormalities"). But another thing I realized as I looked over my friends (and me) is that we are, by and large, sensitive folks, caring people, and very creative. Many of us are writers, musicians, artists, and the like. And not second rate either -- well, present company excluded. Some have had books on the New York Times bestseller list. Others sell every piece of art they create. I mean, I'm blessed with a rather amazing bunch of people who are my friends.

Most of my friends are also deeply spiritual people. Very spiritually aware. And this is sometimes a very tough season for us. For some reason, while everyone else is "Merry-ing" it up, I'm often more in a "Bah Humbug" mood -- or worse. Part of it, for me anyhow, is the disconnect between the festive and celebratory that often ignores the deeply spiritual aspects of the season -- the coming of the Christ. The coming of Light into this time of extreme physical (and sometimes spiritual) darkness of these shortening days. It's Light I need. And I'm not the only one. As one friend said to me recently, "A scary and dark season in some ways....need more Light."

As I thought about bi-polar, panic attacks, depressives, seizures, et al, I also wondered which Bible characters had those traits. Or saints. Others have thought a lot about this, but it was new to me. Which made me wonder not if encounters with the Spirit were symptomatic (i.e., which DSMIII classification does this fit in?), but rather if my friends and mine "abnormalities" were actually doorways into a deeper life of the Spirit.

Of course, since I think too much, other questions came to mind. One was, "Am I more spiritually aware as a person prone to panic attacks/depression than those who are not?"

Well, I thought, that's more than a little a bit spiritually arrogant.

But I did begin to wonder if Jesus was preaching today on the hills of Galilee, would He do a beatitude for us today? Perhaps something along the lines of "Blessed are the emotionally challenged, for they shall feel and see God's presence in amazing and scary and hopeful ways?"

All I know for sure is that I am grateful for my friends, my encounters with God, and my relatively panic-free life. That I am at a place where I feel that, while this might be a good day to die, it's an even better day to live. And that my friends share their joys and sorrows and ups and downs with me -- helping me to realize that Jesus laughs and cries in hearts and souls throughout time and eternity and that God will keep me safe though all of life. Even if it kills me.

-- Brent

Two resources I've found helpful are Therese Borchard's "Beyond Blue: A Spiritual Journey to Mental Health" on beliefnet.com (http://blog.beliefnet.com/beyondblue/). She writes with honesty and wry humor -- and I loved her "12 Bi-Polar Days of Christmas." And Dancing With God Through the Storm: Mysticism and Mentall Illness by Jennifer Elam.

Mary -- Drenched in the Speech of God

This is that special season when we sing carols, hear scripture, and say “excuse me” and “pardon me” as we elbow the other shoppers aside. In spite of that, we sometimes lose sight of one of the major miracles of Christmas. And that is that the central figures of the Christ event were people just like us.

Not that you would know that by the different depictions that pass our way this season. We see it portrayed serenely on Christmas cards, in Christmas plays and songs, and in living and plaster Nativities all around town. In them , the Christmas scene is idyllic. It’s the very picture of a 1st century nuclear family – mommy and daddy and new baby.

But the fact of the matter is that the first Christmas was far from idyllic. Because it wasn’t being staged by arranging paper mache figurines, it was being acted out by real people on the stage of life. Joseph, the Shepherds, the Magi and all the rest, even mean old Herod, were real folks in real time living real lives and trying to make sense of it all. And into their lives comes the miracle of God’s Son – Emmanuel, God with us, come to lead us back to God. And one of those characters of Christmas was Mary – a real, flesh and blood, teenaged girl.

Hildegard of Bingen’s “Antiphon for the Virgin” reminds of this --

Pierced by the light of God
Mary Virgin
drenched in the speech of God,
your body bloomed,
swelling with the breath of God.

For the Spirit purged you
of the poison Eve took.
She soiled all freshness when she caught
that infection
from the devil’s suggestion.

But in wonder within you
you hid an untainted
child of God’s mind
and God’s Son blossomed in your body.

The Holy One was his midwife;
his birth broke the laws
of flesh that Eve made. He was coupled
to wholeness
in the seedbed of holiness.

This poem takes us out of the Christmas we’ve created it in our image and reminds us of the miraculous nature of the coming of Jesus. We often confine our understanding of the miraculous to that of God becoming a baby – which is indeed a miracle. But there is more. There is something, I believe, miraculous about the boldness and obedience behind Mary’s “Yes” to God.
This was no easy “Yes.” This was hard and carried a societal stigma that makes the one we used to force on unwed mothers easy to bear by comparison. What God asked of this young woman was about the most difficult thing she could accede to.

To be sure, as the Bible reports, when Gabriel comes and says “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you,” Mary “was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” Who wouldn’t?

Gabriel continues “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

Her response to this is remarkable, or maybe miraculous. Where in almost every other instance of encounters with heavenly messengers the receiver of the message asks for a sign to verify that it is from God, Mary simply asks, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” She doesn’t try to talk her way out of it. She doesn’t explain her unworthiness. She doesn’t ask “Why me?”

Mary, a simple (in a positive sense) trusting young woman simply looks into the face of the eternal and said “Yes.” How can she do that? Hildegard’s poem gives us a clue how – and I believe it is found in the line “drenched in the speech of God.”

What a powerful image.

“Drenched in the speech of God.” It’s a phenomenon with which we should all be acquainted, yet I fear too few of us are. Mary can say “Yes” because she has heard the voice of the Divine, felt it rain over her, and knew in her heart that it was God speaking. It reminds me of a more modern parallel in the Quaker tradition – George Fox’s hearing of a voice saying “There is one, even Christ Jesus, who can speak to thy condition,” and whose heart, upon hearing it, he says “leapt for joy.”

While Mary’s words from God came from the mouth of the angel Gabriel standing beside her, and Fox’s came from inside his soul, both were unmistakably from God to the ears of these listeners. And joy was the result.

Who can imagine what Mary felt when she first stood in the face of the mystery of the eternal? What might her thoughts have been? Surely she knew she was risking society’s, family’s and Joseph’s disapproval. But did she also know the supreme joy she would have cradling the baby in her arms? Could she even begin to dream of shepherds abandoning their flocks or wise men bringing gifts from afar to come and worship the baby king? Was there even a slight shuddering premonition of the cross that awaited her beloved baby boy?

We can not know Mary’s feelings, other than what we read in the scripture passage today. When the angel speaks she stands in reverence and awe and says “Let it be to me according to your word.”

For Mary, drenched in the speech of God, once her “yes” was said, she moved forward joyously with it. Her obedience and willingness to serve is something she embraced with a joy and serenity. This obedience and willingness came because she heard God’s voice, something that we would do well to prepare ourselves for in this season and year round.

Fox heard God’s voice because he prepared for it – reading scripture, talking with people of faith, praying. We don’t know what Mary did – the Bible doesn’t tell us. But we can guess that she was a person of deep spirit and prayer. When the angel comes, she’s not afraid or doubtful but only “was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.”

And then, “drenched in the speech of God
“… in wonder within you
you hid an untainted
child of God’s mind
and God’s Son blossomed in your body.”

It is then that the wonder of the incarnation, God come down in human form to live among and bring his people back to him, begins – with the simple “yes” of Mary – a yes made possible by being “drenched in the speech of God.”

-- Brent

Live Again from The Great Emergence

The Great Emergence is winding down -- the event that is, not the movement that Phyllis says is underway in American Christianity (and Judaism).

Phyllis is posing 3 questions --

1. How, in a religiously pluralistic society, do we maintain our particular faith witness without causing civil unrest or compromising/watering down our particular faith to nothingness?
2. What does it mean to be human? (This, she maintains, is one of the eternal questions and is especially pressing today, especially as the current generation seems especially self-aware or at least self-absorbed)?
3. What is the nature of the atonement?

Phyllis says that these are the questions that must be answered and how they are answered will determine the future of the Great Emergence.

Well, my battery is running low (and so is the one on my laptop), so more later...

-- Brent

Live (sort of) from the Great Emergence

It's the second morning of the Great Emergence and I'm looking forward to another great day. Phyllis Tickle has given some absolutely stunning presentations on why/how she has identified what is going on in American Christianity as "The Great Emergence." She has tied all sorts of ideas (sola scriptura, quantum physics) and people together (David Farraday, Albert Einstein, Charles Darwin) together, showing how a great emergence is moving through all of society -- not just faith.

As you might expect, most of her presentation is based on her book The Great Emergence. You can find her thoughts there, so I'm not going to recap what she's said here. You need to read the book -- spend some time with it and wrestle with its ideas. I, for one, have found her "story" persuasive -- as well as a cogent, concise description of what is going on in congregational life and the prime tensions of this time.

I will say that Quakers come off pretty well -- especially as she uses us as an example of how to deal faithfully and creatively with the question of authority. Just who/what is in charge? Scripture? Church structure? The Spirit of God? Of course, as those of us who are Friends know, we have been dancing with and around this question for 350 years and sometimes we get the steps right. The getting them right -- holding them in creative tension and allow them each to speak (the community of faith/Spirit/Scripture) -- is never easy, but is ultimately our goal and is spiritually fulfilling and rewarding.

On a personal note, I have been approached by a number of folks at this event who want to talk about Quaker spirituality and practice. Which confirms my long term belief that people are spiritually hungry for the best of Quaker faith. The question then, that I struggle with, is how do we come to live -- to model -- the best of Quaker faith and practice? How do our Meetings reach a place where they could seriously deal with what I consider the most pressing questions facing us -- What has God called us to do

• With this people?
• In this place?
• At this time?

Notice that none of these have anything to do with how do we attract more people? Rather they deal with the question of faithfulness to the call of Christ -- both individually and corporately. Does it really matter if we attract 20, 50, 150 people? Of course it does -- especially if our concern is staffing committees, finding Sunday school teachers, paying staff, heating the building, etc?

But numbers do not matter if we dare forget those things and get back to the initial call of Christ to follow him and his command to feed his sheep. What does that mean for you with your community of faith in your particular place at this particular time? That, I think, is one of the prime questions that the Great Emergence is posing.

--Brent

Quakers at the Great Emergence

Well, it's hard to believe, but the Great Emergence is almost here. I hope those of you who are attending are looking forward to it as much as I am.

Regarding a Convergent get together, there has not been a lot of interest expressed, but let's try this -- let's meet at 12 noon at St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral on the front steps. It's supposed to be in the high 40s, so shouldn't be too unpleasant to meet outside. Then we'll go grab lunch someplace close and chat. How does that sound? I'll have a car if we need to drive somewhere.

Hope to see you soon.

-- Brent

The Great Emergence -- Is Emerging

Well, it's drawing nigh, a least. Based on Phyllis Tickle's book of the same name, The Great Emergence will be a time of worship, discussion, dreaming, interaction, and thinking about the current state of and future possibilities for Christianity.

Tickle's thesis that the Great Emergence that is upon us is a once in a five hundred year event should, by itself, lead to lots of lively discussion and debate. After all, that's a pretty audacious assertion, to compare what it is happening in the Emergent movement to the Great Schism, the Great Reformation, and other "Great" motions and seismic changes throughout Christian history.

And so is her statement that "It is not unreasonable to assume that by the time the Great Emergence has reached maturity, about 60% of practicing American Christians will be emergent or some clear variant thereof."

That's a pretty heady prediction. And one that has huge ramifications for those of us who gather in congregations, work with congregations, and teach leaders of congregations. What does the Great Emergence mean for us?

I invite you to join the discussion by attending the Great Emergence. And, if you're a Friend, to come early and join in a discussion of what it means for Friends. I propose meeting at noon on Thursday the 4th, (I'll look for a place) for lunch and discussion.

If you're going, and interested in such a meeting, please let me know asap!

--Brent

Denver Quaker Saves a Life

That was the headline I got on GoogleNews. So I checked it out and here's what I found --

It seems that a Quaker parrot in the Denver, CO area saved the life of a choking toddler when it began screaming and repeated the words "mama baby" over and over. The toddler's caregiver was able to respond to the warning and save the the 2-year-old's life.

The article goes one to say, "A babysitter's worst fear was brought to reality last week when 2-year-old Hannah, the little girl she was watching, began choking on her pop tart. However, the babysitter wasn't the one to notice the choking toddler. It was the family pet, Willie the Quaker parrot.

"While I was in the bathroom, Willie (the parrot) started screaming like I'd never heard him scream before and he started flapping his wings," said Meagan, the sitter who owns the bird.

"Then he started saying 'mama baby' over and over and over again until I came out and looked at Hannah and Hannah's face was turning blue because she was choking on her pop tart.

" The babysitter, Meagan, was able to perform the Heimlich and save the little girl. Hannah's mom, Samantha Kuusk, was reportedly very relieved and stated in an interview "I'm very grateful for the both of them because they both saved her."

Had it not been for the normally talkative bird's squawking and then yelling "mama baby" repeatedly, Meagan believes she might not have come out of the restroom in time to save Hannah who had already turned blue. "

One of the best instances of vocal ministry by a Quaker that I've ever heard of.

-- Brent

Connecitng the Dots

I've been cheating. I admit it. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. I am a diabetic. I doubt that's news to any readers since if you've ever met me in person, I usually try to work it into conversation within the first few sentences. Philip Gulley, my good friend the FAMOUS writer (unlike me, the author of rare books -- rarely sold), says he's never heard me go three sentences without working it it.

Unlike many diabetics though, I rarely cheat. I follow my diet carefully, watch my blood sugars, and have weighed within 5 pounds of the same weight for the past 10 years. But then came Hallowe'en. And the dreaded candy.

I was gone when it came. In Cincinnati for the wonderful "Books by the Banks" celebration (if you live close, don't miss it next year. It's great.). When I came home though, there were all the left-over candies -- Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Milky Ways, and... the dreaded "Dots."

I can easily take a pass on Reese's and Milky Ways. But not "Dots." They are so tiny and so yummy -- how much harm could they be? And so, slowly, ever so slowly, the teeny boxes have been disappearing from the basket and into my hot little hands. Each brightly colored Dot savored -- chewed into tiny pieces. I can make one of those tiny boxes (5 pieces) last for an hour.

Which made me think some about the nature of temptation. It's easy for me to avoid the big chocolate bars. The pieces of pie or cake. A package of cookies. But a Dot or two? What harm is there? A minor flirtation with sugar. How deadly could that be?

I am happy to report, that it's not been deadly at 'tall. I'm not writing this from intensive care or anything. My blood glucose levels are barely out of their ordinary range. Still, are Dots the beginning of a slippery slope? Especially for a compulsive personality like mine?

I hope not.

I pray not.

"Deliver us from temptation."

Well, only one more box left anyhoo. So deliver me from temptation -- tomorrow.

-- Brent

Hayride

There was a quarter moon outside our ten cent town two evenings ago when I arrived home. A good portion of the family had assembled for a bonfire -- and then they wanted to go on a hayride. So being the really good guy I am, I went to the barn, dropped the log-splitter off the tractor, and fire Mr. Deere up to go get the hay wagon. The sun was starting to set and it was a nice bouncy ride over the recently picked bean field and across the road back to Nancy's nephew's house where the wagon was. In a stroke of luck (not driving skill), actually backed the tractor perfectly to the wagon so that I all I had to do was pick up the tongue, slide it over the draw bar, drop the pin in and... viola' (as the French farmers say), I was good to go.

Arriving back at the bonfire, the sun had set, the embers were glowing, and hot dogs were roasting. After a truly unhealthy meal, it was time to set out on the hayride. To be lit or not lit (the tractor -- not me) was the question. Not much moon, some starlight, but there's just something about warning lights that takes the fun out of a hayride. So, I thought I'd try doing it in the dark -- steering my way around the field (and keeping out of the woods) by what little light God had provided.

It was enough. In fact, I was amazed how much light there was once we pulled away from the fire and my eyes adjusted to the night. I could easily pick out the woods from the field and indeed saw variations of soil in the field that I had never noticed before in the daylight. The sandier soil shone different in the starlight than did the more clay-laden and the loamy (all words that didn't mean much to me just a few years ago). It was even easy to pick out Zeus the big black dog running back and forth in front of the tractor or zipping off into the woods in pursuit of Ebony our black cat.

It reminded me, that when things seem pretty dark, we often are given more light than we realize at first glance. We -- I -- tend to curse the darkness instead of stepping out into the light that is there. Driving that night in the dark reminded me that God gives me the light I need to make my way. Regardless of my life being in the daytime or feeling beset by nighttime. The secret to successfully navigating by the little light the other night was to give my eyes time to adjust to their perceived lack of light -- and to go slow. I geared the tractor down and moved along at a speed appropriate to the conditions.

It was a reminder I needed.

-- Brent

A Final Thought for Convergent Friends October

About a year ago, on another of my blogs, Jay Marshall of Earlham School of Religion posted this remark -- "any chance Friends have of cooperating with God's transforming power will come most easily through building relationships rather than by arguing points."

I agree. And therein is my hope for the future of the Convergent Friends movement. I see it as a place -- a holding vessel -- for important conversations about the future of Friends. I hope it's a place where, regardless of position -- Evangelical, liberal, moderate -- Friends will be able to answer the question "What canst thou say" with openness and be affirmed.

I see it as a new place to talk about the vitality among Friends that can lead to transformation in the 21st century that is theologically hospitable to those who are seeking a vital experience of the Living Christ.

I see it as a place where we can be encouraged to think about what it means to be a Friends congregation in a particular place at this particular time.

What energizes us for ministry? Outreach? Christian social witnesses?

As many of my blog readers know, my spirituality books emphasize Christian Quaker spirituality. As I travel the country schlepping books or leading spirituality workshops, I find a lot of interest in Quakerism.

Then come the inevitable questions about where to find a Quaker congregation in that area. I have to admit that I don't, even as smart as I am, know where every Meeting is and I'm also a bit hesitant to just tell people to look online for Quakers closest to them.

I'd like to be able -- in my wildest Quaker dreams -- to be able to point to some sort of resource that could guide them to a place where they would experience the kind of Quaker spirituality that I write about. Perhaps that's self-serving or naive -- or both.

But I do know some Meetings in that fit that wish -- and I'd like to know about more.

I think a place for theological hospitality among Friends is important. I hear from too many Friends whose meetings feel like exiles in their yearly meetings or are actually contemplating leaving. Likewise, some pastoral leaders.

Can the Convergent movement be a place where thoughtful, caring dialogue can continue? I hope so!

-- Brent

Alone... Amazing

My friend Alan Garinger is the most amazing inventor I've ever met. He's come up with toys (the Infinity Warp), art material (SandArt), a label affixer, and ... well, I could go on about Alan (and often do). I can't decide whether I love him or hate him -- he's just so blamed creative.

Professional jealousy.

In addition to no-so-run of the mill inventions, he also invents books and characters. And his last one is just amazing. Alone: The Journey of the Boy Sims.

Another friend of his sent Alan this tiny description found in a journal int he Fulton County, Indiana courthouse -- Monday, October 28, 1833, Journal Entry Of The Michigan Road Survey Party. ... The boy Sims, in charge of general items, was sent to Detroit today to secure ink to replenish our supply lost in a recent but minor accident during the crossing of the Tippecanoe River. We expect him back in 28 to 31 days. Being a youthful and resourceful as well as an agile lad, he should make the trek in less time and in case he does not return in the allotted period, we shall send for a search party."

From that meager entry, Alan created a wonderful work of young adult fiction. Alone is the story of this young boy and his adventures in the Indiana wilderness. Oh, the places he goes and the people he meets -- and the trials he endures. All vividly brought to life by this master story-teller.

I won't say anymore here -- other than get this book and read it. You won't put it down -- and neither will any young readers you know.

--Brent

is home for the weekend and enjoying the golden autumn sunlight.

Brent is home for the weekend and enjoying the golden autumn sunlight...

Brent is enjoying this great autumn Hoosier day -- blue skies and coloring leaves.