Take it to the Lord in prayer

A friend of mine said recently that, at its best, worry can be a form of prayer. This has been a helpful image to me. Instead of worrying about an idea or a problem in a downward spiral, digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole, it gives me a sense of worry as a way of holding my concern up to the Light, looking at it from different angles, getting a better sense of perspective, asking for help.

As I have tried to practice this over the last several weeks, I have been reminded of the old hymn:

What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear;
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

This is odd to me because I have rejected almost everything I was ever taught about Jesus - recognizing that most of the stories that have been told about Jesus have been made up or at least manipulated at some time in history, for various social, political and economic reasons. But Jesus hasn't gone away. In fact, Jesus is still waiting for me - in times of prayer - and welcoming me into greater faith. I think I'm currently at the stage of "Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief." (Mark 9:24)

A few weeks ago, I went to a peace vigil on one of the most notorious corners of San Francisco. From 7-9 pm, 3-5 of us hung out on the corner, sang songs, played drums, and greeted every single passerby. This vigil has come a long way from the days when gunshots were a regular feature, three years ago. Lots of people felt safe enough to walk by, but mostly it was the two main organizers, another local woman for the first hour, and me, there for the first time.

But at 9:00 on a Friday night, there were 20 people gathered on the sidewalk, waiting for the closing prayer. We held hands in a circle and Kevin led us in a very traditional prayer, almost stereotypical for the African-American church - very repetitive, participatory, emotional. It was not at all about the historical or scholarly understanding of the Gospels. It was Jesus save us, heal us, bring us peace, for us and all who suffer. It was people who have suffered far more than me turning to Jesus for help. It was unashamed of the Savior's precious name (to paraphrase another bluegrass gospel song I love). Unlike me. Yet.


Here's the rest of the song. (I love the Doc Watson version (nearly a capella, with a little harmonica on the side), but I couldn't find a link.) [Update 12/10: You can listen to it here.]

Have we trials and temptations, is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged, take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness, take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Saviour still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer,
In His arms He'll take and shield thee, thou wilt find a solace there.

Words: Joseph Scriven, music: Charles C. Converse. (Thanks to Rise Up Singing for the correct and complete lyrics)

A ministry of encouragement

I love opportunities to get together informally with Friends – this was the original basis of the convergent Friends dinner parties I organized a few years ago. In the last year, the Quaker Revival and Nursery of Truth had some of the same characteristics of taking advantage of the presence of a visiting minister to gather local Friends for worship and conversation and a shared meal. I think the most important part of these gatherings is the opportunity to share our joys and concerns with other Friends, some familiar and some new faces, and the encouragement we take home from them, knowing we are not alone in walking the Quaker path.

I recently had the opportunity to visit with several small groups of Friends while traveling for work. In each case, the gathering was around 15 people from multiple monthly meetings in a local area. In each case the conversation somewhat naturally turned to the future of the Religious Society of Friends. And the message I was given to share with the group in each case was

“Do not be discouraged.” 

I understand that the state of the Religious Society of Friends and of any particular local group can be discouraging. I think that is par for the course. In life. At least in this lifetime.

So if Quakerism  and Quakers are just going to be discouraging, what are we supposed to do?

The answer is perseverance. Forgiving 70 times 7 times. And coming back, and showing up, and not letting the tedious or the insidious or the pompous get you down so much that you give up and go away and don't come back. That is the Tempter speaking to you: telling you it’s not worth it; these people will never change; there’s a better group out there somewhere.

Just as God and grace frequently become present to us through other people, Evil becomes present to us through other people, sometimes in the most banal ways. C.S. Lewis said that better than I can, but he was right. Evil is not always grandiose. Even the biggest evils, for example, apartheid, are made up of a lot of small pedantries.

This is different from Way Closing. There can be a sense of rightness in something ending. People, and all animals, die. Campaigns end. People change religions. Meetings in a particular place are laid down. This can be rightly ordered. Sometimes it’s hard to know the difference between this and giving up prematurely. That’s advanced discernment, for sure.

In any case, this is not a new phenomenon.

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged*
Take it to the Lord in prayer 

That's an old song, written by Joseph Scriven in 1855. Isaiah 42 was written long before that, and it's a whole chapter on the same theme.

As far as positive advice for Friends who are feeling discouraged, I have two thoughts. One is that we have to encourage each other, in living rooms and at kitchen tables, in meetinghouses, on street corners and in the pickup line at preschool. This is one of my favorite parts of my calling to ministry, which is further enabled by my current employment, but certainly didn't start with getting hired and I doubt will end when the paychecks do. If you know someone who is doing good work, encourage him/her and be encouraged by her/him. It's not actually all that complicated, and it's really important.

I actually think this is my personal answer to what the Religious Society of Friends needs right now. On my better days, I practice a ministry of encouragement. I aspire to humbly and boldly follow in the footsteps of Margaret Fell as a nursing mother of Quakerism. If you have ever felt that you weren’t getting enough encouragement among Friends, consider whether instead God is calling you to encourage others.

Second, and here I'm cheating a little because this is really seven things, read Chuck Fager's article, The Seven Ups, courtesy of Western Friend magazine, and follow his advice:

Show Up.
Read Up.
Speak up.
Ante up.
Smarten Up.
Toughen Up. And
Don’t Hurry Up. 

Amen.

Keep up the good work, all of you.



*I wanted to quote this song in the title of this post, but I found that I had already used the most relevant line as a title of a previous blogpost. Here is a set of other blog posts by me referencing the same song: http://robinmsf.blogspot.com/search?q=take+it+to+the+lord+in+prayer [This was just a simple search, but I think it produced a fascinating cross-section of this blog.]

Communion, Experimentally

Today, I think I’m ready to tell the hard part of my story from last Sunday’s visit to a local Presbyterian church.

When Henry and I arrived at the church, we were directed to the smaller side chapel in the steeplehouse, since his choir was singing at the early 8:30 service. He went up and practiced their song and then came back to sit in the pew with me and his friend’s family. I noticed that a table in the front was set up for Communion, and only then remembered that since it was the first Sunday, this congregation would be having Communion today. I thought I should prepare Henry for what was coming.

I asked him if he remembered the time in First Day School when they acted out the whole Holy Week story – from palms to footwashing to resurrection appearances. (That was not my week to teach, but it was an amazing example of engaging religious ed. I should write more about that another time.) Anyway, Henry was dismissive of my explanations, yeah, Mom, whatever; and in fact, immediately after his choir sang, his friend asked him if he wanted to come to the nursery and they both left. But I was stuck there for the rest of the service.

The text for Sunday’s grown-up sermon was from Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. (I Cor. 11:17-34 This isn't exactly the same translation, but it's close.) In this passage, Paul is admonishing them for their lack of faithfulness in observing the Lord’s supper. He scolds the Corinthians for not truly sharing – he says he’s heard that when they meet, each of them brings his own supper and some of them end up going away hungry and others of them get drunk. Pastor K. pointed out the phrase “discerning the body.” He explained that he thinks this means not only treating the wine and bread reverently, as befits Christ’s blood and body, but also paying attention to who else is among the body of the church. It is important to notice who at the Lord’s table (at our table) is hungry, who does not have enough. This was an important lesson for the people of Corinth and it is important for us today.

The pastor of this small, middle class Presbyterian church is not a radical theologian, as far as I can tell. But his simple words were very meaningful to me. It was a nicely put together worship service. The reading from the old testament was the 23rd Psalm: “thou preparest a table for me in the presence of mine enemies...” The hymns and prayers all hung together well. To me it was largely about eating mindfully, a topic which has been on my mind lately. The sense that eating together is always a form of communion. The reciting together, “Give us this day our daily bread…” Pastor K. made direct connections between the Corinthian’s version of the Lord’s supper and the potluck they were planning for lunch that day.

It really helped me to consider how I am part of this 2000 year old tradition of people who have been touched by Jesus. Who gather again to eat together and to remember what he taught us about loving one another, about caring for our neighbors – paying attention to who isn’t getting enough, and sharing what we have.

So I can’t really explain what happened except to say that it was laid upon my heart fairly early that I was to partake of the Lord’s supper today, as it is practiced by the Presbyterians in their worship service. I was deeply challenged by the very idea. I said to myself, “But I’m a Quaker. We don’t take bread and wine in worship.” I haven’t taken Communion in maybe 25 years. I have been in plenty of worship services where I have chosen not to participate in this ritual, even when it was offered to me. But today felt different. When the pastor explained that you don’t have to be a member of the Presbyterian church, or any church to participate, he said, “You are welcome if you love Jesus Christ.” I asked myself, “Do I?” And the answer, at least for that moment, was, “I have to try.” So I stood up and got in line.

The pastor had explained that you could either break off a piece from the communal loaf or pick one that had already been cut, and you could either dip it in the communal cup or choose one of the tiny pre-poured individual cups. (Presbyterians are big on hygiene.) However, I knew I was meant to break a piece of the shared loaf and dip it in the shared cup. I had forgotten that the people holding the bread and cup would say, “The blood/body of Christ, given for you.” I was briefly surprised by the rough texture and sweet taste. I think I had forgotten for a moment that it was just bread and grape juice. And then I sat down and prayed. A wordless, heartbroken prayer. I cried a little. And then I wished I was at Quaker meeting so that the silence, the infinite communion with God could have gone on and on. I think there were announcements about adult religious education and about other ministries of the church. And then we sang another hymn and the pastor said another prayer and it was over. I had to collect myself, and my belongings, and my child, and make chitchat for a few minutes before we left. I couldn’t tell you anything that was said in this part of the service. But I will not forget that it was a powerful, religious experience for me.

My husband asked me that afternoon when I told him about this, “You’re not going to become a Presbyterian on me, are you?” The answer is no. I treasure my Quaker faith, my Quaker practice, my Quaker community, my Quaker values and testimonies too much. But I am humbled by this experience. I am reminded not to be dismissive of other Christians’ practices. I know that bread and juice are not necessary for communion, but they are not necessarily barriers either.

Who's gonna fill their shoes?

George Jones died this last week. Many country music singers said George was the one they admired most. But back in the early 1980s he wrote a song about all the singers he looked up to, called "Who's Gonna Fill Their Shoes?"

Who's gonna fill their shoes?
Who's gonna stand up tall?
Who's gonna play the Opry and the Wabash Cannonball?
Who's gonna give their heart and soul to get to me and you?
Lord, I wonder, who's gonna fill their shoes?

Last week I thought a lot about leadership. I found a 35 year old report on leadership in the Religious Society of Friends that could have been written last month. Same issues have been going on for at least that long. Lack of trust, lack of shared vision, need for divine guidance and human accountability, unclear relationships between individuals, monthly meetings/churches and larger institutions...

Some of the solutions the report suggested would still be functional. One of the problems with not having enough leadership is that good solutions don’t get implemented.


I've been thinking about that this week, and about the legacy of Rufus Jones, and about Sheryl Sandberg's new book, Lean In, and the idolatry of heroes, and the right balance of a well-lived life.

So Rufus Jones (1863-1948) is one of my heroes. He did so many things in his lifetime. He helped Friends and others to reconcile modern science and religious faith, to remember that Christian faith requires us to be active in the world, not just pious in a sterile meetinghouse, and he worked for peace and reconciliation within the Religious Society of Friends and in the wider world. That story you've heard about the Quakers who went to Germany to try to convince the Gestapo to let the Jews go? Yeah, Rufus Jones was one of them. And he was a great storyteller.

He also tried to rewrite Quaker history to show a direct connection to the mystical tradition in Europe that was not justified. He spoke every. single. time. and at great length in meeting for worship at Haverford College, for which he was mocked by students. In the last week, I've heard people criticize both his emphasis on mysticism without conversion of life and his emphasis on works over the transcendent. And I've heard he was a terrible driver. A man of giant gifts, giant vision and giant mistakes. That's okay, he is still one of my heroes. I think it's a form of idolatry to expect that our heroes must be perfect in every way. But who could possibly fill his shoes?


When I wrote a post in 2010 about all the imminent turnover in Quaker organizations, I wondered, "Will all these institutions survive this once in a lifetime mass shift in leadership? How many will move in new and vibrant directions? Are there too many openings at one time? Are there enough younger Friends who are ready, willing and able to take on new responsibilities? To take on the hard work and hard choices? To commit?" And then I responded, "I continue to reflect on these questions and where I might feel called to serve. I think that some of us need to step up to the plate."  As I look around almost three years later, of the 20 or so organizations I can think of that changed leaders, all of them found adequate applicants. About a quarter of them chose people younger than 50, and almost half chose women.  I've met most of them and I have confidence that they are willing to take on hard work and move in new and vibrant directions. But I can tell you that none of those people feels adequate to fill Rufus Jones's shoes.

Rufus Jones wrote something like 57 books and gave thousands of speeches all over the world. [Including these two that I love: The Vital Cell, 1941, and What Will Get Us Ready? 1944] I can barely write a blogpost once a month. But before I get too caught up in comparing myself to him, I have to remind myself that he had a wife, and a housekeeper, and a driver, and probably a series of typists to help him out. He wasn't cleaning his own bathroom. He probably never changed a diaper. Times have changed and there are limits to how much he can serve as a role model for me

Still, this brings me to considering how I am stepping up to the plate in my world. If you haven't heard one of Sheryl Sandberg's talks or read her book, you can go to her new website, www.LeanIn.org. She is encouraging women to take professional risks, to push for a seat at the table at work and for equality at home, to not give up on their careers just because it's so damn hard when your kids are little. It's controversial, as important conversations are. For me, it helps to articulate it that I have leaned in hard this last couple of years. And I have been supported at home, and in my meetings, and by many Friends. But is it enough? Am I doing enough? Or doing it well enough?

I like to think that I am not aiming to be as famous or influential as Rufus Jones, but I am working on being as faithful to the calling I have, to live up to the Light that I have been given. Leaning in hard can still look undramatic and unheroic. I suspect that Rufus Jones did aim to be dramatic and heroic and that's one of the things that annoyed people. How is that different from singers giving their heart and soul to get to me and you?

Is it wrong to have ambition to be faithful on a large scale?

Well, at meeting on Sunday, I asked God that question. (One of the things I forever appreciate about unprogrammed Quaker meetings is the opportunity to bring my inarticulate mess to God in prayer. I don't have it all figured out, and that's okay. I can just hold my swirling questions in the Light. And sometimes there's an answer. Not a booming voice from beyond the ceiling, but a quiet knowing of something new.) And the answer went like this, "So what are you doing for those who will come after you?" Huh? I'm the one who is looking for role models, and instead I'm being asked to be one. Not by any actual younger people, mind you, just by God. Darn. Now what?

Rufus Jones, for all his foibles, was strongly committed to encouraging and supporting younger generations, and they loved him for it. The two speeches I cited above were both given to Young Adult Friends, at their invitation, when he was about 80 years old. Perhaps I can aspire to be like him in this regard and let go of the temptation to try to be like him in other ways.

I can still give my heart and soul for the Religious Society of Friends. Thy will, Lord, not mine.

We should never be discouraged

You know how when you learn a new word, you suddenly hear it everywhere? This is a difficult and stressful week for me at work, so the lines from the hymn Take It To the Lord in Prayer are more useful than ever.

In addition, in preparation for this Saturday's Quaker Heritage Day, I decided to read at least part of the book edited by the two speakers, Walk Worthy of Your Calling. It's been recommended to me by at least three people in my Meeting, and I'm finally getting around to reading it. (Good thing I ordered it for the Meeting's library!) It's a collection of essays byFriends from around the world about their experiences with traveling ministry.

Anyway. The third essay is by and about an African Friend who had resisted the call to ministry. To the point that it made her physically ill. She describes her years of avoiding the call, her visions and the voices that spoke to her. On the night that she finally gave in and accepted the "signs that started a new thing down in my heart," I find that the words that opened her to following her leading were these:

You should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer!

It was one of those numinous moments. I nearly cried on the Muni train through the rest of her essay. Even though she uses a lot of traditional Christian language that is not my own. Her experience spoke to me, beyond words, beyond cultural differences, in that which is eternal, as they say.

Silence Is Like Fluoride

For the last six months, I have been planning a weekend retreat for my birthday. 48 hours, all by myself, at a little cottage in the redwoods. As I kept telling people about this retreat I was going to take, I kept saying, “And for two whole days, I’m not going to brush anybody else’s teeth. Heck, I may not even brush my own teeth, I don’t know yet.” I reserved the cottage, weaned the baby, borrowed a car, and prayed my kids wouldn’t get sick. Still, up until 5:30 last Friday, I wasn’t entirely sure that it was really going to happen. But then I put my suitcase and groceries in the car and drove away. For real. Let me tell you, it was great.

I expected that this retreat would be healing. I had a mental picture of myself with little pieces broken off all over and that this weekend I would have time to heal over. It was like I was a rotten tooth and the silence would be like fluoride.

They say that as we go about our regular business, eating and talking, etc., the enamel on our teeth gets little nicks and cracks. If we don’t take care of them, they can break completely. Fluoride somehow helps the tooth to remineralize the enamel to repair the damage that is a normal part of the life of a tooth. And dental professionals have found that we need to have a daily small application of fluoride, but also every six months or so, a deeper, longer application of concentrated fluoride.

Well, I think silence is kind of like that. In our daily interactions, we bump into people and things, we talk and relate, maybe parents especially are always giving little pieces of themselves away. And we get little nicks and cracks in our souls, our selves. It’s just a normal part of being human. Little bits of us get broken or torn off and if we aren’t careful, we can end up looking like social or spiritual Swiss cheese. But a small daily dose of silence can help. I’ve seen that in the last six months. At the moments when I seemed in danger of totally cracking apart, I would just imagine myself at my retreat place and breathe, for maybe 10 seconds, and it was enough. I could come back to my real life and go on coping with the normal chaos of my family life.

This weekend has been like a deep silence application. I feel remineralized, restored, like all the little cracks and nicks and chips have been filled in and smoothed over. Even though I still had to cook and clean. I read books and walked in the woods. I ate cookies and drank tea and sang songs when I felt like it. As you learn in the woods as much as in the city, nature is never completely silent. The trees, the birds, the beetles are all making their little rustlings and chirpings. Silence is not something out there, it is something inside of me. When I am silent enough, I can hear the trees, hear God, hear my children speaking to me in so many different ways.

But this weekend I had time to be genuinely still. I stood at the center of the labyrinth and on the bridge over the creek and just looked and listened and prayed. These are the moments of peace, of full present moment awareness that will fill my 10 second retreats for the next long while. What a treat to say, “Here I am, Lord,” and just for the moment, not have to do anything.

At the same time, I realized how rusty I am at the discipline of solitary prayer. How hard it is to make myself sit still and turn to God for any length of time. Maybe a busy family life is just my excuse not to have to do this hard work. In any case, I am reminded of why Meeting for Worship is not just between me and God.

I’m not sure what the dental equivalent of a weekly Meeting for Worship is. But I do know that it is an important intermediate source of silence and sustenance, between the 10 second retreat and the weekend long version. Every week I have the opportunity to sit with other people in silence, in a nurturing and caring community, along with God. To still myself and my noise long enough to hear God. And somehow, it’s easier to sustain in community.

Which brings me back to family life. At the end of my retreat, I am able to think quite fondly, and not anxiously, about my husband, my children, my friends. I feel whole and healthy enough to go back and touch them, listen to them, help them, without feeling like I am going to break completely apart. What a joyous gift of my first-ever, maybe soon-to-be-annual birthday retreat.

P.S. When I arrived at the cottage, I thought for a minute about how this retreat was mostly about taking care of myself, so I decided to go ahead and brush my own teeth.



P.P.S. I wrote this a couple of years ago, but was inspired by Peggy to publish it here now. Very different kind of retreat, similar kind of healing, I think. My little cottage in the redwoods is available for longer or shorter rentals.

How did you get here?

Since I do spend a little time looking at my referrals, I thought I’d share with you some of the ways that people get to What Canst Thou Say? (31,788 visits so far)

I’m the #9 link if you google “hip devotional” (Who knew?)
#18 for “robin”
#6 for “piecrust”
#5 for “floor cleaning on knees” (in Russia)
#2 for “simplicity is shunning superfluities”
#2 for “spiritually tired”
#1 for “my candle burns at both ends it will not last the night”
#1 for “take it to the Lord in prayer” (in the UK)
#1 on yahoo for “Dios es bueno siempre”
#1 and #2 for “convergent friends”

This survey was done yesterday; by now the algorithm may have changed things a little.

But now I'm curious. Many of the referrals just say "unknown" What brought you to this blog? Originally or today?