What happened on Saturday: Extended worship

Extended Worship came to Portland Friends this weekend. This is a traveling ministry started by two New England Yearly Meeting Friends interested in what happens when Spirit's work among us is not cut off at the 58 minute mark in time for announcements. 

How does it work? 

Five times a year, Friends gather to worship for three hours. There is a break for a brown bag lunch, then we reconvene for worship sharing about what our experience of worship was like. 

I'll share two reflections from Saturday. The first is the role hospitality plays at these gatherings. The second is how the inner work and the outer service of a faithful life overlapped on Saturday. 

First, hospitality. 

Jean Zaru was the first Quaker who illustrated the importance of a hospitality ministry. She was clerk of Ramallah Friends Meeting when I was teaching at the Friends School. She cooked frequently for Quaker gatherings at her house. She had an enormous kitchen table and a lovely home which she maintained meticulously for guests. Her meals shared Palestinian culture (I watched her turn out a maqluba, and watched Americans fail to do the same). Her meals allowed friendships to arise, conversations to be had. I had a less lonely experience in Ramallah because of experiences in her warm kitchen. 

Jean said many times she identified with Martha in the story of Mary and Martha, the sister who cooks and cleans instead of sitting at Jesus' feet. Someone has to prepare the food!

Because I'm working part time, I was free on Friday. I had time to make a soup, a pumpkin bread and a batch of apple sauce for Saturday's program. Other brought other lovely offerings. So even though the invitation said "Bring a brown bag" there was lots of food to share. This felt really important. We also set up tables and chairs outside the meeting for our lunch gathering. Where we gather matters, and having food to share on the table matters. I feel very lucky this year to have time and capacity to continue Jean's work!

Second point, about inner and outer work existing side by side. In this case, inner work was out extended worship and particularly rich vocal ministry.  The outer work was direct community support of homeless folks. Here is what I perceived. 

While we were worshipping, the clerk of our homelessness committee got a call from another committee member. One of the unhoused folks who camps in the cemetery behind the Meetinghouse had called in crisis. Another homeless person, a friend of the camper's, had arrived and needed a place to stay. 

Not our cemetery. Google image.

The clerk of our committee wanted to uphold his commitment to the Meeting not to allow additional campers on the property. He also didn't want to leave this woman out in the cold. He brought camping gear from his own home and helped the campers set up the new person in some nearby location, not ours property. 

He then went to Walmart and got tenting supplies for her to use longer term. I learned these details after Meeting on Sunday from the clerk of the committee. 

One point of interest and tension for me is how much energy I should devote to outward acts of service and faithfulness and how much to devote to worship, study, and cultivating inner life. This Saturday showed me that the beauty of our community is that we meet different wordly and inner needs at the same time. While many sat waiting on God, one committee clerk was setting up a tent. Others were elsewhere giving in their divine ways. 

My watercolor sketch

Another gift of Saturday's longer worship: I enjoyed watching the shadows from the windows move across the meeting room in ways I had never perceived before. 

What happened on Sunday: Singing together

Yesterday was the first Sunday when I had care of worship. 

Since the spring I have had several opportunities to hold Care of Worship. At Sessions there was an invitation for people interested in CoW to hold various Meetings and programs in prayer. I volunteered to hold the Bible half hour in worship, and having that role ended up being the best part of Sessions for me. 

I arrived to Bible half hour about 20 minutes early and sat facing the group, eyes closed, holding the container (with other CoWers) so that Friends walked into a held and worshipful space that invited them to sink down.

I have been joining another M&C member in arriving early to Meeting on the weeks they have CoW. But until yesterday I was not in the official role. 

Takeaway: official roles matter. It was qualitatively different for me to know that, although there were many people holding the meeting and holding me in prayer, I was the primary CoW person. 

When I was very young I remember my sister telling me of research that showed that praying for people is more powerful when the people know they're being prayed for. This was true of my experience yesterday. Confusion on Saturday about who was on CoW for Sunday's worship led to a back and forth with all the members of M&C. One result of this was that everyone on M&C was very aware that I had CoW and that it was my first time in that role. I felt very held by the whole committee -- an amazing feeling. I knew people were praying for me and the body. 

Perhaps CoW should always be a team effort?

Let me describe the worship experience. 

The room was full -- hardly any empty chairs. It was raining lightly, and the room felt damp and warm. 

I came into the room at 9:40 and the singing group sang hymns for about 15 minutes. I didn't stand with them but was often drawn into the song, either singing the words I knew or humming the familiar tune. 

It struck me that humming the melody of a song was similar to the role of CoW -- not doing the harmonizing, not even performing the lyrics of the song. But providing the undergirding musical structure that the lyrics and harmonies relied on for musical integrity. 

Silence commenced, and lasted more than thirty minutes, though I wasn't looking at the clock. 

Someone rose and spoke about September 11th and an interfaith gathering of local spiritual leaders that had happened shortly afterward. The end of the message was "Thank God for the leadership, thank God for the courage." 

More silence.

A woman said aloud, "We're still here." For a moment I thought that was the whole message, but then she continued. Her message was poetic and abstract. Eventually it became clear that she was not really giving a message, but was saying a lot on her mind. 

Two members of the Meeting approached her with smiles and care, held her hands, and accompanied and witnessed her in her ongoing mumblings. 

Eventually our Clerk stood and said, "Friends, let's hold this friend in the light. We are all concerned with the state of the world, and we express it in many ways." She sat back down. The woman continued speaking. The clerk then started singing "Dear Friend, Dear Friend, let me tell you how I feel, you have given me such treasure, I love you so." 

The whole meeting joined in, and we sang and hummed this song softly until the woman decided to leave the room. Three Friends followed her out and, we were told at business meeting, got her a glass of water, a cup of coffee which she requested, and bus passes to get to the grocery store. She was a homeless neighbor. 

It was pretty amazing to experience the singing meeting. Not just singing for the normal length of time of a song -- two or three verses. But singing ongoingly, until the purpose of the song had been met. Until God working through us had effected the change in our group needed. 

We had joys and concerns, introductions, announcements, then went downstairs for the best attended potluck before business meeting that I've ever seen at PFM.

What happened on Sunday: Pastoral Care

 Portland Friends organizes faithfulness groups -- clusters of three or four people who get togehter outside of worship to 

- socialize

- build community connection

- be present for and encourage our faithfulness to the guidance of Spirit in our lives

I am new to faithfulness groups. The trio that I'm part of started getting together in May of this year. We try to meet twice a month. I'll use random initials to refer to my faithfulness friends.

Yesterday we met at one of our houses and sat outside. C had made pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and brought out a colander of need-to-be-eaten-grapes. A food element makes a huge difference at a gathering like this.  

We have developed a habit of checking in, on items that are new but also on updates from past conversations. During yesterday's check-in E shared about their cat's recent illness and vet visits. It had been a stressful month for E because of the care the cat needed. 

C said, "I'm on the pastoral care committee. It sounds like you could use some support."

We talked about what pastoral care looks like, and how it can be given, or how to signal that it's needed. 

I find it hard to ask for pastoral care. The best case scenario seems to be what C did for E yesterday: noticed a need, and offered to fill it. 

In this way, faithfulness groups, or a small group of people who know my life better than the rest of the Meeting, seems important if our community is to support its members in a substantial and practical sense.

At our past gathering, C had said it's hard to attend the pastoral care committee meetings on Zoom when her toddler is right there with her. I asked if I could come over and offer a sort of "Mother's helper" child care during those meetings. C said yes, and our first session will be on Thursday. 

I'm struck that my being part time at my capitalist job has enabled several community connections in the past few weeks, including this offer to take care of C's child while she does other important community work for the Meeting. 

Community requires time.

Do we need to reference early Friends?

 Recently a Friend said, "I'm get so annoyed when the first sentence of anything references Early Friends and what they did!" Do we have nothing today we can draw on? Nothing since them? 

Beacon Hill Friends Meeting

This resonated with me though I had never thought about it before.

Reading Faith and Practice has been a reminder that modern Friends have rich experience and wisdom. 

In the section on the inward Christ, this quote from Richenda Scott indicates we can experience God through our friendships: 

"Perhaps for many of us, particularly for those of us who are younger, the way to the knowledge of the meaning of Jesus Christ lies through human friendship and affection and love. Then there may come the moment when we are carried out of ourselves, far beyond what we have hitherto known and clung to." 

                            -"Love and Discernment," The Friend, Dec 5 1975.

I find that affection and love is born of vulnerability. And this I found in Beacon Hill Friends Meeting last Sunday where I worshipped after an airport run to Logan. 

The ministry was varied -- it didn't feel like those who spoke were necessarily "touching the same thing," but there was a feeling of sharing what feels profound among f/Friends. 

One person shared that their housemate had put their pet bird to bed the night before, which involved rolling the birdcage into her bedroom. The large old metal cage had four ball caster wheels "which all have different opinions" she told us.  

Sometimes as you push the cage, it doesn't go straight. 

Sometimes it shakes as it rolls.

Sometimes it crashes into the wall despite careful driving. 

And sometimes, it moves smoothly for a few feet.

This is perhaps my favorite kind of ministry, and it relies not at all on references to Early Friends. 

I love stories of how life teaches us when we pay attention.

This cage -- how different is it from my life projects? 

- Reliant on many things going well, not all of which are in my control. 

- Unpredictable in its movements. 

- Sometimes provides a period of smooth sailing which doesn't last more than a few feet. 

- Requires frequent recalibration. 

This was not the only message that felt like something said between friends that would awaken affection and love. Maybe I can rely on this idea of Meeting as a place where we share the food of human friendship: presence, witness, listening and a willingness to see the divine in (sm)all things. 

Series: What happened on Sunday -- 2. Zoom worship

 I attended Sunday's worship on Zoom. I was sitting in the parking spaces closest to the Brunswick library where I could get on their wifi and I watched many folks walk into the UU church across the street. Why wasn't I joining their worship, I asked myself. Might be interesting, after all. 

But my goal was to know what attending Portland's zoom worship felt like. I am newly on Ministry and Council and wanted to know how Zoom felt from the other side of the screen. 

I was a little embarrassed to be in the car, so I put dewy green grass blades as my background. 

Here are two of my reflections: 

1. It is a pleasure to see the worshipping body as a fly on the wall. I have never seen the worship room from this vantage point, and the sight of all the Friends gathered and sitting in silence was heart-warming. I believe in the power of visuals and this image of the gathered body emphasized for me the importance of our collective spiritual practice. I didn't feel as though I were a part of that body, but it was affirming to see it anyway. 

The other heart-warming visual was at the rise of meeting when everyone shook hands. Watching folks turn to their neighbors and greet one another after the stillness of worship was beautiful. 

2. I can't imagine that the zoom experience would be very satisfying if I didn't know the people in the room. One reason these visuals and the sounds of Meeting were enjoyable was that I recognized people and anticipated having a good deal of in-person fellowship with them very soon. To have Zoom as an option does feel important but it by no means diminishes the centrality of in-person worship.

Series: What happened on Sunday - 1. Care of Worship

How do we educate ourselves in the Quaker way? It seems that this education must be an ongoing activity if newcomers and long timers are to be reminded what we do in Monthly Meeting and why we do it.

Last weekend at Portland Friends Meeting I saw an example of what I’m calling “ongoing onboarding." 

I carpooled to meeting with Genna who is on Ministry and Counsel, the group that cares for the quality of worship in a Monthly Meeting. Genna had Care of Worship that day, meaning they were designated to ground worship prayerfully and hold the gathered group in prayer during our hour of expectant worship. 

Worship starts at 10 am. We arrived at about 9:15 to open the meetinghouse. By 9:30 Genna was in their seat in the worship room. I joined about 9:40. Gradually more Friends came into the room. It was quieter than usual. It felt like as each person entered they sensed the spiritual work already underway, the work of setting the container for worship. I thought each person seemed jazzed about this, as though they entered the room and realized, “Oh – we’re doing this!” As each person sat down they took on a piece of the responsibility for the quality of worship. 

The worship was deep and alive for me. The spoken messages were short and dwelt on love. One friend encouraged us to acknowledge aloud the love that exists between us, not to wait forty years like he had with a friend. Someone else asked how we make manifest in the world the power of love we experience amongst ourselves. Silence radiated around these messages.

Let me describe how Genna moved our covered group through the stages at the end of worship. 

Transition 1: into joys and concerns

Genna said, in a tone that did not break the feeling of worship, that we would continue by holding up joys and concerns, either inwardly or for the whole group to hear. The joys and concerns which rose were poetic, almost like worship messages in their prayerfulness. Someone expressed gratitude for the Meeting’s ongoing support of her as she provides care, both “instrumental and invisible,” to her sister. Another person raised a concern for an immigrant friend who fears every time his wife or children leave the house that they won’t return. It was as though the love experienced during worship found its first concrete objects in these requests, and we held each with love.

Transitions matter

Transition 2: Genna then stood by the door for maximum visibility and introduced themselves. They explained that they were one of the people holding Care of Worship that day, which meant they were praying for the group’s faithfulness. “You may find that you also do this,” Genna said, acknowledging that many people hold the group in prayer. These people, Genna said, we can call elders, but “Some people use the word midwives,” Genna explained, “because it’s not only old folks.” And, they went on, elders don’t just admonish un-Quakerly behavior. They help in the birthing process, bringing forth whatever God has for us to experience. 

Transition 3: “This is a moment of transition, and we’re going to have announcements and introductions,” Genna said, “But if you’re not ready to  leave the space of worship, there is no obligation to stay.” 

“After announcements we will have snacks. I will be holding Afterthoughts in the back classroom. This is a place to talk about how worship was for you, or ask questions about Quakerism. I have some quinoa salad and spinach to share. That will be in the back classroom after rise of meeting, which is what we call it when we get up.”

I perceived that newcomers to the meeting watched Genna with mild interest. Many long-time members though, were rapt, watching this example of eldering with fascination. When was the last time we had heard someone explain care of worship? Were we aware that many people were holding our Meeting in prayer? Did we know it was an option to forgo announcements and continue in worship? 

There is so much to know about Meeting. Continually orienting us to the spiritual purpose of our shared activities is an important task for Monthly Meetings. This Sunday I saw how that important task may be spread across our corporate activities in a way that explains our particular language and rituals: an intro for newcomers and a reminder for members.