I’ll be in Georgia this coming weekend for the annual conference of Quakers Uniting in Publications. The gathering of Friends publishers, booksellers, editors, and authors this year focuses on the question, “Are Quakers still publishers of truth?”
This is an important question.
For instance, Elbert Russell writes in The History of Quakerism (1979) that “in the seven decades after 1653 there were 440 Quaker writers, who published 2,678 separate publications, varying from a single page tract to folios of nearly a thousand pages.”
And in Quakerism of the Future (1974), John Yungblut claims that the urgency of early Friends to write and publish makes sense: “If one has been visited by a direct sense of inward presence, he is driven to tell everyone who will listen to him.”
But more recent publishing efforts among Quakers, valuable though they may be, are missing two elements, according to Johan Maurer: “The first is the excitement and urgency of a movement that once believed it was bringing something new and crucial into the world, that lives and destinies depended on getting these new experiences and insights expressed persuasively.... The second missing element is the expectation of an external audience. [Today] we issue timid mating calls to try to attract people as much like ourselves as possible, and nobody else.”
We can do better.
This coming weekend, I’ll be enjoying what’s predicted to be a warm spring weekend at the Penn Center in St. Helena. I’ll be working with others on how to embody truth, how to speak and live truth, how to live as modern-day Quaker pamphleteers. I’ll be listening and talking and writing. I'll be paying close attention to how the Spirit shows up in our midst.
Because I’m convinced that God isn’t done with us yet. Many have not yet experienced “a direct sense of inward presence,” and the world still needs publishers of truth.
Eric Muhr
God's help to hope
In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, Phil Smith recognizes that “a world too big for us” can tempt us with despair. “There is nothing we can do,” Phil writes, “because the fanatics and generals and corporate boards hold power.” And for we who are Christians? “We hope for heaven after we die, because the world is too big.”
This is not a new problem.
“Judah’s exiles had just as much reason to despair as we do,” Phil writes. And the truth is that they may have had more reason to despair than we do. “Babylon had conquered Jerusalem and burned its temple.” But in the face of destruction, “Isaiah announced God’s salvation.”
Did they believe?
Do we?
God is “faithful, loving, and holy. . . . The God who created the world can make something new; he can deliver Israel [and us] in ways they [and we] would never have dreamed.”
But we need a reminder of who God is. We need God’s help to hope.
Eric Muhr
P.S. Don’t forget our continuing sale on all of Arthur Roberts’ work. Click here to see the full collection. All of Arthur’s books remain discounted in our bookstore for just one more week.
Praying for courage
In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, Bruce Butler writes of his service as a hospice chaplain, “working alongside dedicated nurses, doctors, social workers, and hospice aides to bring comfort and care to patients and their families during the final stage of living – the dying stage.” During his nine years in that position, Bruce noted that it is common for “patients who have unreconciled family issues [to] struggle for peace at the end.”
I read that first paragraph three times this morning, especially that phrase: “unreconciled family issues.” And I thought about all the different families of which I’m a part. My parents and brothers and sisters. My extended family. My church family. My yearly meeting. I thought about some of our “unreconciled family issues,” and I briefly considered compiling a list. But I didn’t know where to start. There’s a lot. A lot that still hurts.
Maybe that’s how it is for you, too.
“Sadly, some families live for years or even decades without forgiveness,” Bruce writes, “unwilling to confess uncaring actions, painful words, or hurtful attitudes.” And whose responsibility is it to risk going first? Bruce doesn’t say. Instead, he points to the reality that “sometimes we find that harboring hurts keeps us in positions of power over our loved ones, fueling our refusal to reconcile.”
I think Bruce is right. I think Bruce is right about me. I think Bruce is right about us.
Bruce uses the Genesis narratives about Joseph to illustrate how hard it can be to reconcile. “First he had to assure himself his brothers had fundamentally changed.” Joseph also wanted to know “that his youngest brother was still alive.” Forgiveness didn’t come easily to Joseph. In spite of his position, Joseph still had suspicions, fears, hurts. Yet Joseph took a risk and discovered that he also had a “powerful weapon for good in [his] family – the power of forgiveness.”
We, too, have this “powerful weapon for good,” and Bruce points out that when we learn to wield this weapon “to seek reconciliation . . . we free ourselves to once again serve the Lord together with gladness.”
Bruce offers a prayer suggestion: “Lord Jesus, make me an instrument of your peace in the life of my family. Give me courage to forgive and reconcile.”
Today I’m praying for that courage. I’m also praying for you.
Eric Muhr
P.S. Don’t forget our continuing sale on all of Arthur Roberts’ work. Click here to see the full collection. All of Arthur’s books remain discounted in our bookstore through Monday, March 6 .