s, leaflets, and publications that explore common interests such as climate change, the progress of volunteer peace workers around the world, political and social issues, and always, always, Quaker poetry.
It is a world-wide religion, practiced in nearly every country, though their numbers are dwindling. Again, I blame the Quaker Oats man. But they too are somewhat responsible for their own diminishing membership. They don’t advertise, baptize, chastise, nor proselytize. It hardly seems like a religion at all. It is easy to understand why so few would venture into a meeting house uninvited.
Though they have a reputation for being puritanical, which really isn’t fair given how poorly the Puritans treated them back in the day, they are actually a very liberal group. They stress moderation in all things but they drink, they dance, and they can sin with the best of us. They do, however, frown on gambling and other than staunch pacifism, this is the only line in the sand that Quakers have drawn as far as I can see.
They refuse to swear legal oaths, with the explanation that they recognize only one standard of truth. A Friend never lies.
The RSOF developed as a nonconformist movement in reaction to materialism. George Fox, one of the early founders of the religion, urged his followers to follow a more simple path of Christianity, one that they felt was based on early Christian communities. And, like the early Christians, the first Quakers were also beaten, imprisoned, and sometimes killed.
In fact, the term “Quaker” was initially used derisively. During a trial an early Friend faced his accusers and “bid them tremble at the word of God,” and then those nasty Puritans turned it all around and gave them the cruel epithet “Quakers.” But Friends simply appropriated the name, thus stripping it of its insult in a very Friend sort of way.
Quakers were radical in their time, and still are to some extent, in that they believe that each person can experience a direct relationship with God. This is why they have no clergy or anything else that might possibly be construed as an intermediary. They do not give authority to the Bible but use it instead for guidance and inspiration.
To investigate British Quakers I decided to visit the Seven Oaks Meeting House. It was once a large thriving meeting but now is down to the last determined dozen or so members. I arrived to a warm, if not somewhat surprised, welcome. The meeting room itself was nice enough and the doors of the room opened onto a beautiful garden.
They explained to me that I could sit anywhere and that the chairs in a Quaker service are usually arranged in a circle, underlining their commitment to egalitarianism.
There seemed to be an awful lot of women in attendance, which single men should take note of.
Before we began, they asked me, very nicely I might add, not to take notes during the meeting. I was a bit taken aback. No notes? They thought it might disturb the silence. I huffed and puffed a bit. My mind is like a sieve so I rely on my notes.
But as it was, not that much happened. They refer to the meetings as “a space of gathered stillness.” Actually, they sit in collective silence – for an hour.
As a child, a Quaker friend of mine, a Friend friend if you will, attended meetings with his grandmother. He said that each time they entered the meeting room she would direct him to “Go in and greet the light.” The “light” is a metaphor to Quakers for one’s relationship with God.
So I sat in silence and looked for the light. For an hour.
There are many forms of silence. There is the popular “silent treatment,” prized by angry couples worldwide, the spiritual “vow of silence,” the evocative “moment of silence,” Simon and Garfunklel’s famous “Sound of Silence,” a parent’s desperate plea for “a little bit of silence, please!” and the cruel silence of censorship. My mind was wandering.
I looked around the room and noticed that everyone, save the man with special orthopedic shoes, was wearing sandals. That says something about a religion, I thought. I was not sure what, exactly. And I wa