"Friends, we're grateful to be gathered." So said the clerk at the start of the last session of business at Yearly Meeting. Having presided over some testy meetings and sought the sense of the meeting all week, with a broken shoulder to boot, her gratitude made her seem angelic.
And in fact, Quaker process as it is written fairly demands divinity. The level of acceptance, self-restraint, patience in listening, and obedience to the sense of the work of individual committees and the clerk, are superhuman. Sometimes our human nature bursts onto the scene, in a frustrated outburst, or a [comparatively] aggressive "That Friend speaks MY mind!" during a discussion. In our attempts to be perfectly measured and holy, ever flooded by divine Love and acutely aware of that of God in those we disagree with, we strained our human nature until it snapped.
How holy are we expected to be? Is there a room for humor, which would likely diffuse some of that pent up human-ness?
Humor at business sessions:
1. Tomatoes on the lectern: Starting on Sunday, someone put a tomato on the corner of the lectern that all reports and keynotes are given from. If an explanation was given, I missed it. Two mornings later, there were three more, smaller tomatoes lined up across the lectern. Again no explanation. During Wednesday night's business session, which witnessed the most controversy, a Friend from Cambridge Meeting jumped on stage between speakers and put a tiny cherry tomato at the end of the line. Laughter clapped across the auditorium, which moments before (and moments after) was heavy with disagreement. Such harmless irreverence was likely, though not certainly, appreciated by all.
2. Elaborate introductions: If I stood to speak in a "meeting for worship for business", (the Quaker name for business meetings) I would preclude my statement with, "Mimi Marstaller, Durham Friends Meeting." By Wednesday night Friends were getting punchy.
"D---- W-----, Portsmouth Meeting, New Hampshire, on the border of Maine, next to the Atlantic Ocean."
"H-------- E---------, Worcester Meeting, Worcester Mass. Which is the second largest city in New England."
Titters rose from the audience, then a Friend said
"R-------- Z----------, South Stockton Meeting. The first time I came to Yearly Meeting I had no idea where any of the Meetings were located. Can we please not make fun of it?"
3. Clowning around: After a tense discussion on Thursday morning of the Legacy Fund, which had been a topic of controversy the night before, General Secretary Noah Baker Merrill took to the tomato-laden lectern to report on the attendance numbers for NEYM this year. He donned a clown's nose, and Ben Guerraldi, Cambridge Meeting, stood behind him, stuck his arms under Noah's, and gesticulated wildly through the whole presentation. It was the only time all week when I bent over laughing. And I generally love to take things way too seriously. This video captures a moment of their presentation; I do not exaggerate when I say that it brought the meeting back to life.
Yes, it is easy to bring humor into happy discussions (attendance and financial vitals for the conference were up this year). I don't suggest bringing humor into the deepest, most divided discussions. But by all means, bring on the humorous interludes. The tomatoes and Ben and Noah's clowning will remain some of my strongest and best NEYM memories.
And in fact, Quaker process as it is written fairly demands divinity. The level of acceptance, self-restraint, patience in listening, and obedience to the sense of the work of individual committees and the clerk, are superhuman. Sometimes our human nature bursts onto the scene, in a frustrated outburst, or a [comparatively] aggressive "That Friend speaks MY mind!" during a discussion. In our attempts to be perfectly measured and holy, ever flooded by divine Love and acutely aware of that of God in those we disagree with, we strained our human nature until it snapped.
How holy are we expected to be? Is there a room for humor, which would likely diffuse some of that pent up human-ness?
Humor at business sessions:
1. Tomatoes on the lectern: Starting on Sunday, someone put a tomato on the corner of the lectern that all reports and keynotes are given from. If an explanation was given, I missed it. Two mornings later, there were three more, smaller tomatoes lined up across the lectern. Again no explanation. During Wednesday night's business session, which witnessed the most controversy, a Friend from Cambridge Meeting jumped on stage between speakers and put a tiny cherry tomato at the end of the line. Laughter clapped across the auditorium, which moments before (and moments after) was heavy with disagreement. Such harmless irreverence was likely, though not certainly, appreciated by all.2. Elaborate introductions: If I stood to speak in a "meeting for worship for business", (the Quaker name for business meetings) I would preclude my statement with, "Mimi Marstaller, Durham Friends Meeting." By Wednesday night Friends were getting punchy.
"D---- W-----, Portsmouth Meeting, New Hampshire, on the border of Maine, next to the Atlantic Ocean."
"H-------- E---------, Worcester Meeting, Worcester Mass. Which is the second largest city in New England."
Titters rose from the audience, then a Friend said
"R-------- Z----------, South Stockton Meeting. The first time I came to Yearly Meeting I had no idea where any of the Meetings were located. Can we please not make fun of it?"
3. Clowning around: After a tense discussion on Thursday morning of the Legacy Fund, which had been a topic of controversy the night before, General Secretary Noah Baker Merrill took to the tomato-laden lectern to report on the attendance numbers for NEYM this year. He donned a clown's nose, and Ben Guerraldi, Cambridge Meeting, stood behind him, stuck his arms under Noah's, and gesticulated wildly through the whole presentation. It was the only time all week when I bent over laughing. And I generally love to take things way too seriously. This video captures a moment of their presentation; I do not exaggerate when I say that it brought the meeting back to life.
Yes, it is easy to bring humor into happy discussions (attendance and financial vitals for the conference were up this year). I don't suggest bringing humor into the deepest, most divided discussions. But by all means, bring on the humorous interludes. The tomatoes and Ben and Noah's clowning will remain some of my strongest and best NEYM memories.
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