Faithfulness Through a Drop in Spiritual Intensity

Though I have had recently a very intense experience with the Spirit, I am finding that in recent days the intensity of my experience has dropped significantly. Intuitively, it seems it would be difficult to understand this drop in intensity; am I less spiritually focused? Am I being less faithful? These are tough questions. However, I find I am learning how I can be faithful even when my experience is less intense.

Some days, the Spirit has me by the hand (or rather, by the heart) and is guiding me as I try to follow as faithfully as I can. Other days it is more like the Spirit is piggybacking on me; with me, close, but not in the forefront, providing nudgings or pointing every now and then, letting me go more on my own (but not alone!). This, too, requires much faith, as it is easy to feel afraid that I have lost touch or focus, when really the Spirit is right here with me providing guidance, even if not right infront of me. This reminds me of another example Lloyd Lee Wilson gave:

My favorite example of this comes from a gathering of ministers in Ohio that I atended about a decade ago. In the course of the various discussions, some farmers in the group began to describe their practice of settling into the silence each morning, to be guided about what they should do and where they should go that day. Sometimes they felt no more than an affirmation of the tasks human reason would have recommended, but sometimes they received unexpected direction. (emphasis mine)

Living faithfully according to where one is lead every moment of the day does not necessarily mean that one feels a distinct leading on each and every option and decision that comes up. Sometimes human reason (though secondary) is quite appropriate and good. What is important is that one is attentive and open to the leadings that do arise.

I am learning to be in constant conversation with God, checking in inwardly frequently. I find that my experience of this conversation is not quite that of an exchange of words. In fact, a few weeks ago I was speaking with a friend about my experience of worship as listening, and she said something along the lines of how listening is really a difficult thing to do, that she tends to talk a lot more [to God]. I then realized that I really don't do a lot of "talking to God". I don't really ask much, and my experience of prayer is that of a listening and an attentiveness. Perhaps, though, a little bit of talking may not be such a bad idea. We shall see, we shall see.

Love and Light,
Claire

A Shared Experience

In a keynote address to Southern Appalachian Yearly Meeting Association (SAYMA) in 2003 (which happens to be entitled Wrestling with Our Faith Tradition and is probably included in the recently published book with that title, but is in fact a piece of writing on its own), Lloyd Lee Wilson speaks of apophatic spirituality. He describes apophatic spirituality as the spirituality of subtraction, where one finds God by subtracting from one's life everything that is not God.

I first heard of this kind of spirituality a few months ago, and I remember thinking that it was an odd way of going about things that must be overwhelming, and clearly, was not right for me. Now, in reading the words Lloyd spoke, I realize it is exactly what I have come to do this last month and a half or so.

In a previous post of mine, I spoke of letting go; by "letting go", I do not necessarily mean that, for instance, by letting go of my belief in God that I no longer believe. I mean that I must pull the rug out from underneath this belief and discover my true experience - minus the padding of reason. I was speaking of removing reason from any primary source of my faith, and though I did not consciously articulate it, I removed reason in this way because I found that though reason is important, it is not God, so it is thus secondary. In Lloyd's address I found these words which speak to my condition:

Our primary path to understanding is a direct, unfiltered and unmediated relationship with the risen Christ who is here with each of us and with all of us in community. Of course, we do value Scriptures and the accumlated wisdom of our yearly meetings and the rational thought process that help us understand the consequences of our actions - it is simply that all these are of secondary value in the Quaker tradition.

It is the experienced reality of the inward encounter with the Divine that is the foundation stone and bulding block for everything else.

It was at this point that I could not read any further without a pencil for underlining things, it struck me so. Earlier today I was speaking to a good friend of mine about it and discovered that I was speaking with more animation than I usually speak; I realized that this was more exciting to me than I initially acknowledged.

When I spoke of my experience before (in a previous post), I knew, I knew I was not the only one to have gone through something like that, but had reached a point where I needed to take a break from reading some of the Quaker books I'm not yet through with, as I continued to get tripped up on words telling me how such an experience should be, or will be, or how all these people experienced it; I needed to have my own, authentic experience without such words to twist me around.

In the last week, though I feel as though my experience has been less intense and less the forefront of my consciousness, I have found myself able to find my own experience in the writings of others - something I had not entirely expected. Reading the words of Lloyd Lee Wilson in this address from two years ago has stricken me, as I feel like a large centrality of my experience has been articulated, and I continue to find more and more places where this experience is articulated. I find myself unconcerned with the language used - whether one speaks of Christ risen, or doesn't mention Christ or God at all is of no importance to me. It is instead the deeper, transcendent meaning that I hear when I read these parallel experiences.

I mentioned that my experience has felt less intense this week, which initially seems like a cause for concern to me; "Did I completely lose touch, just like that? Is my experience over and forgotten already?". It was quickly apparent to me that it was indeed, not at all over or gone. More words from Lloyd speak to me:

[The dialogue] may wax and wane, but seasoned Friends over the centuries have reported that God's presence is an ongoing personal conversation, not the intermittent and infrequent reception of a general broadcast. It is as if whenever we stop to listen, we discover that God is already speaking with us. (emphasis mine)

Yes. Yes, I feel this deeply. I tested my experience this past week, and this is the best articulation of what I found.

In another recent post I spoke of nudgings, and of how I've begun to listen for God in all aspects of my life; My life is about being attentive and faithful to where I am called. My life is happening all the time. Then I read yet another line from Lloyd's address which rang true:

As Carole Treadway of the School of the Spirit reports, an apt description of a Conservative Friend is one who seeks to live every moment under the immediate guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Though I am, indeed, a member of a Conservative monthly meeting, it is not this label with which I am concerned. The part of this that strikes me is the description of a Friend who seeks to live every moment under the immediate guidance of the Holy Spirit. Every moment.

It is a joy to discover and lift up these words, this shared experience. Through shared experiences, both similar to, and different from our own, we grow in the Light.

Love and Light,
Claire

A United Religious Society of Friends

I can't help but begin to bring together many posts (or at least pieces of them) I've seen in the last few days. They may use very different words and different examples, but I feel a strong sense that they all speak of the same thing. (If any of the Friends I quote or summarize below feel that I interpreted incorrectly or wish not to be included in such a post, please let me know and I will modify this post to accommodate.) Though I lift up certain pieces of a number of posts, I do highly recommend reading each one in their entirety.

Shortly before or after I made my last post, Amanda also posted in response to a question a commenter had asked in a previous post of hers about what the non-negotiable central tenets common to all Quakers are (if there are any). In her post, Amanda quoted Friend James Healton who said that (among other things), there is a powerful unity and purpose underlying all the elements that go together to make the basic contours of Quaker theology and practice.

Amanda says also, We believe that not only is God here, but that there is that of God in each person, which makes them Holy, and Precious and Sacred, which can lead them into the fullness of expression of Divine Love. If we believe that God is in others, we can do them no harm. If we believe that God is in ourselves, we must discipline ourselves to be faithful to his Inward leading and teaching. (Emphasis mine)

In a comment to this post, Lorcan said, I would add to thy excellent start, that to be a Quaker is to be constantly learning to empty thyself and invite God to fill thee.

In a different blog, AJ Schwanz spoke of being wary of doing things out of fear rather than love. Many times choices in ministry are made out of fear rather than a God-placed compassion, she said. Also a line from her post which was also lifted up in the comments to it: Just because it’s a good thing doesn’t mean that I’m called to do it. We must listen for God.

Over on the Quaker Renewal Forum there's a post entitled A Foundation of Listening and Hearing - very much appropriate here. In it there's a paragraph which very much speaks to me and part of what I'm trying to tie together here:

For us as individuals and meetings, we find the solid ground when we become people th[at] are a listening people. Not only that, we are willing to put into practice what we hear. Since this little comparison by Jesus follows on the heels of the Sermon on the Mount, I find that a solid ground life is built when we listen to the words of Jesus as found in that Sermon and are willing to put them into practice. In other words, we listen to God's heart and God's dream and put into practice what we hear. We live out Kingdom values. We live out the values of God's dream. We live out the presence of Christ in our life. (emphasis mine again)

In my last post I spoke of being asked the question, "What is the essence of Quakerism?" Instead of going into an extended explanation about how everyone practices differently depending on the branch, or how it depends on who you are, I gave the brief disclaimer that, well, though everyone would describe it differently, in my experience the essence of Quakerism is about being attentive and faithful to where one is lead or called in life. (Goodness, I just quoted myself.)

What is the foundation upon which we build our spiritual homes? What is the "essence of Quakerism" [if there is one]? What are the "non-negotiable central tenets common to all Quakers" [if there are any]? Personally, I feel that there is an "essence" of Quakerism, or something like a "central tenet", or in the words of James Healton as quoted above, a powerful unity and purpose underlying all the elements that go together to make the basic contours of Quaker theology and practice. If we don't, then what exactly holds all of us together as a Religious Society of Friends? How do we live our lives as individuals and communities of Friends?

I have a growing sense that we all know what this powerful unity and purpose is, though we all use different words, practice it differently, and tend to get caught up in different sets of details. This may seem a little redundant, but I feel the need to lift these pieces up once again:

If we believe that God is in ourselves, we must discipline ourselves to be faithful to his Inward leading and teaching. (Amanda)

to be a Quaker is to be constantly learning to empty thyself and invite God to fill thee. (Lorcan's comment on Amanda's post)

Many times choices in ministry are made out of fear rather than a God-placed compassion. (AJ Schwanz) We must be careful to listen for God.

We live out the presence of Christ in our life. (Quaker Renewal Forum)

in my experience the essence of Quakerism is about being attentive and faithful to where one is lead or called in life. (there I go quoting myself again)

These voices I've quoted and summarized have spoken of what I sense to be the heart of Quakerism. These speakers are of multiple "branches" of Quakerism and use different language and have different ways of practicing or worshipping, but all are part of the whole Religious Society of Friends. In speaking with other Friends, in experiencing the most recent Central Committee meeting of Friends General Conference (FGC) (Central Committee is "the governing body of FGC"), in reading these blogs, and in my own heart I sense a growing movement to build bridges among these "branches", that we might come together as a single tree of Friends with deep and mutual roots.

A post by Robin a few weeks ago also spoke to this movement in a post entitled Quaker History as a Uniting Force. Here, Robin spoke of a movement that seems to be arising in [at least] a few branches of Quakerism, that we all need to learn more about each other, respect each other (or if we're like Aretha Frankin (as Robin put it), R-E-S-P-E-C-T each other). Robin said, No more secretly believing that *we* are the only true heirs of Quakerism, just because we practice more silence than they do or because we proclaim Christ as king more loudly than they do.

We will have to travel and meet each other more.

- and indeed, if we are faithful, we will.

Love and Light,
Claire

Authentic Faithfulness

A couple months ago I asked Friends how they describe Quakerism to non-Friends who ask about it ("What's Quakerism?"). I described how my description of Quakerism began to feel like a "textbook" explanation - here are the apparent main current branches, here's some history, here's a typical meeting for worship and what it's founded on.. ect. I'm finding that the way I describe Quakerism is a bit of an indication to myself about where I am in my spirituality.

Today as I was waiting for the bus back to Wellesley from Cambridge after Meeting for Worship, I was chatting with a friend on her way back from a Catholic service - she asked me about Quakerism. After describing an unprogrammed Meeting for Worship and a little bit about the branches, I was asked basically, "What is the essence of Quakerism?" Instead of going into an extended explanation about how everyone practices differently depending on the branch, or how it depends on who you are, I gave the brief disclaimer that, well, though everyone would describe it differently, in my experience the essence of Quakerism is about being attentive and faithful to where one is lead or called in life.

As I contemplated this on the bus, I realized very clearly that I am in a place where my life is about this essence of Quakerism that I described; my life right now is about being attentive and faithful to where I am called. My life is about being attentive and faithful not just for an hour on Sunday mornings, not just at gatherings, meetings for business, or committee meetings, but as much of every minute of every day that I can possibly be. I did not reach this point because it seems unreasonable to be grounded just for an hour once a week, but because I feel it at my core, because I am reaching a place were I'm open to the slightest nudgings about small actions here or there in my life; should I go upstairs and speak with a friend about something important right now or should I wait? Do I need to step outside and listen right now or am I ok? Do I need to make a phone call to a Friend today? Do I want to apply to be an RA? A chemistry tutor? Do I need to post on this blog about this concern or that experience? These are all things that it seems most people - and I used to - decide by using reason or some other surface indication. I find I am now more sensitive to small nudgings one way or another, or sometimes even stronger feelings, about these seemingly "unspiritual" decisions. As I've mentioned before, though, I don't believe in the divide between secular and spiritual.

My life is about being attentive and faithful to where I am called. My life is happening all the time.

I left Meeting for Worship this morning feeling distraught. I felt a deep sense of concern about the attentiveness of other Friends to this inward leading, to the still, small voice we all talk about so much. Are people Friends because they are called to be, or because they like the idea of it and it seems to make sense? Who am I to judge? This is a question I've had to ask myself, as well. Even so, I couldn't help but feeling upset and unclear about this question for many in the Religious Society of Friends.

Do we strive for authenticity in our faithfulness as individual Friends and as a community? Do we do things as individuals and as whole communities of Friends because we are led to from a deeper, inward place, or are we doing things because they are the "Quakerly" thing to do? How do we hold each other accountable without coming from a place of judgement, but from a place of sincere concern and discernment - a place of faithfulness?

Love and Light,
Claire

The Challenge of Letting Go

In my last post I spoke of being in tune with the spirit and discarding excess "spiritual junk". Part of this process, I'm finding, is learning to let go of absolutely everything, including all prior held beliefs about the Divine. This thought almost feels like a punch in the stomach, but I'm finding more and more each day that this is the beginning of a life-long experience of living Truth.

Reasoning and intellectual interpretation are no longer adequate enough reasons for me to put faith in a belief. Even beliefs that seem to be based in experience such as my thought that of course I believe in God - look at all this love around me, everywhere, and these amazing experiences! What else, but God, could allow us to have these experiences? Ultimately, reason is what backs that up. I cannot believe until I feel it at my very core - reason tossed aside, initially unimportant.

I must listen, I must experience. (Sounds familiar, doesn't it?)

Throwing reason out the window along with every belief I seem to have come to through it (which would be more beliefs than one might think!) is an incredible challenge which needs constant attention. I must even catch myself and stop from trying to feel one thing or another because it seems like I should. My interpretation of what I "should" do or "should" feel goes back to reason or interpretation. The only things I really should do are the ones that call me from a place where reason does not apply. I even had to loosen my grip on my belief in God, I had to let it go. This is truly starting anew, from scratch.

I must add here that by "letting go", I do not necessarily mean that, for instance, by letting go of my belief in God that I no longer believe. I mean that I must pull the rug out from underneath this belief and discover my true experience - minus the padding of reason.

I find myself questioning my life as it is right now. I go to a very good college, I have many luxuries; in looking at myself from this deeper place, my life is cluttered. So I should drop everything, sell all my possessions and go live in a shack in the woods, right? No, no. Here's that "should" of mine. I do not feel the call to drop everything. I cannot discredit the passion I feel for what I'm pursuing, the call to the direction in which I'm currently headed. I cannot decide that I "should" feel called to do one thing because it seems like the "spiritual" thing to do. I must listen and wait. I must call faith up from the deepest place, with no reason at all to do so other than a feeling that I must - and questioning, even that, so that I may discard any reason involved. I am very much a scientific thinker, which makes this process much more challenging for me, but also much more powerful.

There is a shift occurring within me. My inward and outward experiences are beginning to converge, my spiritual and intellectual experiences are moving toward a greater overlap. I am beginning to stop living a divided life, as Parker Palmer would call it.

I am struggling through, I am tackling doubts faithfully (as I can), I'm paying even more attention to that still, small voice within me. I am suddenly much more inwardly sensitive to my emotions; I feel my emotions with my spirit, with my core. The surface of my outward experience is sinking down, down to this deep and challenging place.

I find myself glad to be in a physical environment that challenges me further in all of this. It keeps me from being too comfortable. It helps me grow even more, stronger.

Love and Light,
Claire

In tune with the Spirit

In the last couple of weeks I have stripped away a lot of what I guess I could call "spiritual junk". I have come to a place where my concept of God is not tangible; I have no image or metaphor, no logic or reasoning - all of my attempts to define God tangibly only distracted me from the true Spirit, so I've stripped all my tangible ideas away. I cannot describe it right now, only experience - but my experience with God right now feels much stronger than it's been in the past. I feel in tune, always with an inner ear, attentive to nudgings.

I have been open to nudgings to stop what I'm doing to go and listen for awhile, or perhaps you could call it worship (in the same sense as Meeting for Worship). Several times this week I have taken a break from homework - or whatever I was doing - to just go sit by the lake or step outside for a bit, having the understanding that that's what I needed to do right then and whatever I was doing could wait.

As I go through my daily activities I sense an inward focus, an inward open listening. Fitting this renewed and intense spiritual experience into my life - into my academic life as a full time student - is challenging. Having a continuing spiritual experience is a challenge to reconcile with many, many others around me who are not necessarily having any sort of spiritual experience, or are having a very different spiritual experienc than I. It's a challenge to have any sort of spiritual experience and not know how to express that to those around me.

As I sense this inward focus and listening, I also sense and inward struggle. I'm lovingly wrestling with God, I am inwardly tender. I am being attentive to where I am right now, rather than trying to form or push myself toward some goal. This is where I need to be right now, and right now that's ok. No need to distract myself by trying to figure out where I will ultimately be led, only where I am led right now.

This is my current experience, as best as I can describe it, though words often fail for me when trying to describe these things.

Love and Light,
Claire

Being Broken Open

My heart is broken open by love. As I struggle to keep sight of my center and ground in my daily life, trying to be gentle with myself as I encounter bumps or road blocks in my path, I often think of those in whom I have found great support. I have recently found myself without words to describe the deep passion and love of so many people and Friends I've encountered so far in my life. I encountered a number of these Friends at Central Committee this past weekend, finding myself supported by them, but also, equally if not more importantly, some of them found support in me. These passionate and deeply loving Friends break my heart; they break it open. This passion and love for the world, for God, for their work and the work of everyone, this is the Spirit manifested. This is my experience of God.

After a couple months of what felt a little like spiritual limbo as I made the transition to college, I feel now that my spirituality has returned full force and intensified. I'm still learning how and struggling to find its balance in my daily life, to discover how to remain spiritually grounded and focused as I interact with others, as I go to class, lab, or study groups, or do homework. I suspect that this is an on-going dilemma for many others, as well.

I must carry on and be tender with where I am, being careful to nurture myself in the place that I am, and I must always remember the passion and love that breaks my heart open.

Love and Light,
Claire