Monday, November 28, 2016

Silence

About a gazillion years ago (26, actually) I left New York City after nearly a decade of working at Time Inc., paying off student loans, and studying art at Parsons School of Design. My interim destination was Pendle Hill, the Quaker study and retreat center outside Philadelphia, and I was so at home there that I ended up staying over four months. Someday perhaps I'll speak about this time at more length, but in a nutshell, to experience this tradition, which was itself somewhat of a "protest" against the high church Anglicanism I was brought up with, helped me fill in some of my own empty places. Since then, I have always looked for "that of God within," rather than "up there."

The traditional Quaker worship at Pendle Hill (and elsewhere) consists of participants sitting in a circle in silence. There is no leader or priest. Out of a meditative, God-centered, still place, people may feel led to stand and speak to the group. In fact, on a few occasions even I experienced that shaky, quaky feeling that propelled me to stand and speak. To hear what feels like authentic, holy words out of one's own mouth rather than from a prayer book is a novel, even revolutionary experience.

The fascinating thing is that in a community of Friends (Quakers), business is conducted in exactly the same way. They hold "meetings for worship for business" (and I beg my Quaker friends' forgiveness if I describe this imperfectly.) Out of a space of deep silence, a community concern is raised. There is more silence. People then speak to the problem from a thoughtful place. More silence. The aim is to reach wide agreement, which may not always be full unanimity, but something the whole group can live with and which feels spirit-led. An extremely sensitive clerk tries to articulate the meeting's intention in words, which are entered into the minutes when it is clear they represent the "sense of the meeting." This can be a smooth process, or at times, an almost unbearably drawn-out one. I remember one gathering where there was a controversial issue regarding the source of some fruit being served in the kitchen. The "discussion" (speaking-silence-speaking-silence) went on for over an hour, and I believe in the end the decision was tabled for another time. I remember running out into the cold night nearly tearing my hair out. (Thought to self: "Lordy, can't you people just take an up-or-down vote?")

That's the point. They were not seeking a "winner." There are many benefits to our democratic process, and it has been a historical step forward, but the downside is that there is always a "loser." There is always heated, even angry, debate, and a resulting pool of resentment. Perhaps we have started to outgrow this model, but clearly the Quaker one would be utterly impossible in diverse countries of dozens or hundreds of millions of people. I am not sure what the answer is.

This may sound disingenuous from a person who is now blogging more like five days a week than her original two or three, but I'll say it anyway: that regular interspersing of silence is beginning to sound awfully good about now!