I'll be home for Christmas...

So I am set to go “home” for Christmas. It is something I cannot imagine not doing. I was the closest I have ever been to not going home this year. I had a really horrible visit over the summer. But it seemed wrong to not take the opportunity to visit my grandparents or to punish my mother for my father’s ill behavior.

My last trip home seemed to bring all the anger and hurt—which I have tried to leave behind—and shove my nose in it. This year was my father’s turn to host the big Labor Day gathering known as “Bouja.” It is all the people my dad grew up with in Central Minnesota gathering together for a weekend of festivities. Bouja is a big stew made in a huge kettle over an open fire, all the vegetables from everyone’s gardens goes into it…and a whole lot of meat (we think it might be Polish in origin…or eastern European). A series of events occurred that made me recall some of the not so good family times…and I thought, “why did I come back for this. I have my own life, what was I thinking.”

Then the dog got shot. She was out by the road and it was probably some jack-ass hopped up on meth. No, it wasn’t someone at the party…But well, that pretty much made it the worst trip back to Minnesota ever. And the worst Bouja ever for my parents and I. There is nothing like spending hours with the emergency vet trying to decide if it is more humane to put the family pet down or see if they can reconstruct her muzzle and save her. We opted for pain meds and an observation/work-up by the vets and when the bleeding couldn’t be stopped it was obvious the choice. So that is something added to the list of things we will never speak of again in the family.

So why am I going home?

I guess because I need to. I need to be with my ridiculouslyand gloriously dysfunctional family (who can’t even communicate with each other about a family meal on Christmas day—it has been like pulling teeth). A chance to recall how much I really do like my family (warts and all as they say) and a chance to remember what is important in life. I get so cut off in my daily routine of work and worry about money, I rarely sit back and reflect on what is important.

I recently applied for a job back on MN…and it is a tough choice. Should I stay or should I go—exactly what I was thinking Joe Strummer. It is equally weighted on the push/pull factors. But being in MN will help with the decision. How will I know if I am leaving MD prematurely? And does the distance help keep my family closer than we would be if I lived within a few hours…hard to know. Being with my family provides clearness for me…even if it is just a reminder as to why I ended up in Baltimore in the first place. So here is to rejuvenation.

Quaker children are angels. Sometimes.

I've been working with the junior high class at the big local meeting for a few months now, and it was recently time to decide whether or not to come back and do it again for another trimester.

This week, we had combined the high-schoolers, the junior high and the 3-5th graders to work on the Christmas pageant. It was chaos, but it was a loving chaos. The high-schoolers were patient with the little ones, even when they painted over things they should have painted around. There was affectionate horsing around between kids who were related and kids who weren't. A teenager pulled up to the piano and played. Another pulled up some folding chairs and took a nap. But when it was time to wrap things up, the backdrop, complete with a peace-sign wearing cobra, unicorn, and spitting llama, was carefully taken downstairs to dry and the kids set the room up for the potluck without complaint. Okay, so some of my junior high kids complained a little that I woke the sleeping teenager up gently instead to letting them pull the chair out from under his head, but mostly they were really good. Wild, unruly, the-camel's-teeth-don't-really-need-to-be-bloody angels (no-really-I'm-serious-do-not-paint-blood-on-the-camel's-teeth).

There are ways in which Quaker kids are special. You can get 7th graders to talk about their doubts about God. You can tell a teenager to coordinate twenty younger kids in a painting project and not have anyone throw a tantrum. There's something about they way that we treat our kids that makes them more responsible than other kids their age. Sometimes.

Sometimes, they're more reluctant to quietly accept orders from adults. They're prone to making their own decisions about sex and drugs and can really make a mess out of things that way. They tend to be less motivated and fairly indecisive when it comes to careers. When you raise children to value simplicity and an inner spiritual life, they tend to be uncommitted to the labor market. Quaker boys seem especially unmotivated to say, finish college, do their own laundry, stop smoking pot and get a real job.

I remember teaching my younger brothers the story of Jonah and the whale. My youngest brother amused himself for quite some time by making vomiting noises, but in between the fits of giggles, we were able to talk about the story on a deeper level than the question-and-answer, were-you-really-paying-attention regurgitation that most kids expect to have to do when talking to grownups.

When I was working with a group of Methodist children, they were much calmer. They sat down when and where I asked them to, but could not wrap their minds around the open-ended questions I would ask them about the parables I was teaching them. I would get blank stares if I asked for their opinions, or for how the story might be applicable to their lives.

One of my friends, who got kicked out of Catholic Sunday school for asking too many questions, was taken aback when I was telling her about the lesson I lead where we talked about what the kids thought about god (the answer: reincarnation, probably real; God, probably not real). When it comes to matters of faith, I'm of the opinion that giving kids the ability to think about what they believe and learning about what other people believe gives them the opportunity to stay open to the leadings of the Holy Spirit a while longer than the didactic methods favored by other Christian denominations. Does this mean that we end up with some non-theists who believe in reincarnation and care more about the environment than the Spirit? Sure. But we don't end up with a large number of young adults who hate organized religion. I'd like to believe that this leaves them more open to the movement of the Spirit within as they grow older. I believe that we are drawn into the Community of Believers in God's time and the best way be can prepare our children for that is to keep them open to the ideas that God might exist and have a plan for them.

One of the things that I value most about my Quaker education was that I got to talk, really talk, to a number of adults about their faith and their faith in practice. Taking the time to be one of those grownups for a new generation of young Quakers is important to me. It's not a strong leading, it's not a long term commitment. It's something that I can do to give back to a Society which has given so much to me.

While I often come home from First Day School exhausted and mumbling incoherently about heathens, I've decided to go ahead and teach the junior high class again next semester. The curriculum, as set by the Meeting, covers the parables of Jesus next trimester and I'm looking forward to introducing them to the back half of the Bible. Maybe I'll even be able to share enough of my faith that they'll be able to realize someday that Evangelical and Christian aren't mutually inclusive terms. I could tell them that, of course, but they wouldn't listen. They're Quaker kids and they'll need to figure it out for themselves in their own time.

Yes, you have have snack now.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Niebuhr, Niebuhr, Niebuhr

Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime,
Therefore, we are saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history;
Therefore, we are saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.
No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own;
Therefore, we are saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.

-Reinhold Niebuhr

Love that dirty water

On Thursday night, I'll be attending a fundraiser for a local organization that's fighting for public transportation equity in my area. Afterwards, I'm having some folks over to watch the game.

It's hard not to get swept up in the joy that is Boston in October. We are Red Sox nation, and when things are good, they're really good. It's fun to be a part of it all; checking the scores, sharing them with friends and strangers, singing sweet caroline in the streets or on the subway.

Getting excited about public hearings about public transportation is a whole lot harder. There will be locally-made chocolates at the fundraiser, which should make it easier. The governor has recently said that he's planning to put up the funds to get the greenline extension finished ahead of schedule which seems to have some people hopeful. I'm still thinking a lawsuit is likely to be necessary, given the current timeline, the history of postponement, and the health risks involved. The Big Dig has not been kind to Somerville.

I'm feeling really connected to my community, and it certainly helps that my community includes people I can call friends, but it is sad to me that my involvement with the Quakers in the area is so limited. Is the disconnect because I am a "young adult" who'd rather not hang out with the Young Adults? Is the disconnect because New Englanders are decidedly less friendly that Southerners? Or is it because of the theological differences that separate us? I imagine it's all of the above. The reticent New Englanders expect the young adults to take me in, but I have no interest in their potlucks. I hung out with young adults while I was in college, and even then I didn't always feel that our age was significant enough to bind us together. Once I get the "real grown-ups" to really talk to me, they don't seem to like me very much.

I'm loving my community right now. I just wish I felt as involved, included and welcomed at the Quaker meeting as I do elsewhere.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

God's baby.

My mother retells a story sometimes (often when she's proud of one of her own kids) about an elder in our Yearly Meeting, whose mother-in-law would remind her "now, Liz, this is not your baby, this is God's baby" upon seeing a child for the first time.

One of God's babies had a very difficult time getting out of the womb over the weekend. His shoulders were too broad and he got his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Little Elijah stopped breathing, and once they got him out (by breaking his collarbone) it took fourteen minutes to resuscitate him. Needless to say, his condition is rather grave. He is in good hands: his mama who is full up with love, a cutting edge medical team at Duke, and God's.

Via text message this morning, his mother informs me that he is doing "pretty good today" which is encouraging. Your prayers are still appreciated.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Isaiah, again.

In times of darkness I return again and again to Isaiah:

Comfort, O comfort my people
speak gently to Jerusalem and cry to her
that she has served her term
that her penance is paid,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins.

Although today is dark and I am not where I want to be, I can take comfort that I am not where I once was and that He is with me. Even more, I can take comfort in knowing that I am where he wants me to be. Healing comes slowly, a gradual baptism by fire.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

True sanctification comes slowly, from the Lord's hand, in the Lord's time. We cannot announce that we are ready and claim it for ourselves. We must continually open ourselves to the Holy Silence, again and again, especially when we feel heavy under the weight of our transgressions.

I will be speaking gently to myself this evening, pausing to remember as needed what the Lord's hand feels like on my forehead.

I will run and not grow weary, I will walk and not faint.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

I really suck at online dating...

I've recently signed up for an online dating account and have mentioned Quakerism. This is bringing all sorts of people who were raised Quaker out of the woodwork and has lead to some interesting conversations...

I think that talking about early Quaker theology is incredibly practical. Far too many Friends have forgotten that the peace testimony is a practical application of a cohesive interpretation of Scripture. On one end of the spectrum, my First Day School kids don't know that Jesus appears towards the end of the Bible despite being in junior high. On the other end of the spectrum are Friends who still talk about Jesus all the time, but have almost completely abandoned Quaker theology over the years, primarily to water it down to attract more members. But then again, I actually believe in all that early silliness about Christ coming to teach his people himself. In my many years of doing things with non-conservative friends of both kinds, I find that the lack of theological understanding terminally weakens their understanding of Quaker practices. They have to compensate with enthusiasm, which can draw them ever further from the Source. Their silences are shallower on the whole. Theology is the core of our faith, of any faith really, and continuing revelation is not the same thing as making it up as we go along.

I suppose by "conversations" I mean rants, but whatever. I sent this in an email to someone, but decided that it needed to also be posted here. I imagine that I'll get a better conversation out of the blogging community then out of a stranger who is looking for a date.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

How I'm praying today.

I've been thinking about James' post on prayer and I thought I'd share how I'm praying today. My grandmother is having surgery this morning to remove her gallbladder. It's not a particularly risky surgery, but she is an octogenarian and very dear to me so I'm still quite concerned. When I'm unable to distract myself with work, I've been praying stuff like this:

May Your will be done with as little pain and suffering as possible. Please watch over the hospital staff and my family today, especially my grandfather and mother as they care for my grandmother.

Your prayers are appreciated as well.

Love,
Elizabeth

Faithful Farming

I was sent a link to this article recently. It gives me great cheer to read such things. It has been a weight on my heart that organic food is so expensive and that until the last couple of years was relegated to specialty stores. As someone whose income has been hovering around the poverty line (both intentionally and unintentionally) for years it saddens me that the poorer you are the harder it is to get organic and/or responsibly grown food.

I would eat completely different if I could afford it. But between cost and convenience, I haven't eaten as well as I would like in a long while. I say cost and convenience because organic products are more available at major grocery stores these days but locally grown food is still often relegated to farmers markets--which I love but rarely have the time to get to. Time is a big issue for those of us living paycheck to paycheck...I don't have time to eat, much less go to special venues for food.

However, now that grocery stores are offering more organic types of foods sometimes you can get good deals on it. And I keep telling myself the more we buy at the regular grocery the more we can convince someone that this is a viable market and maybe one day we can bring the prices down...though now that I think about it, this point may be mute as it seems regular groceries are costing more and more each week.

What most stuck me about the article though was that it was religious groups leading the way for these more ethical farming practices. It isn't just about whether to go organic or not but that there needs to be more mindfulness of the whole product. The treatment of the workers and the animals needs to be ethical. These are not new concepts for people of faith. The Catholic Worker has had ties to farms throughout its existence.

The combination of faith to bring about ethical farming practices (doing right by the workers, the animals, and the plants) and my undying hope that through continually trying to make organic and whole foods more available on an equal scale to over-processed foods, will one day lead to a level buying field between such products gives me great joy after reading the article.

Another point in this article to reflect on is that sometimes fundamentalism may not be a bad thing...though I would like to think of it more as a Conservatism...as it manifests Conservative Quakers.

So what say you, faithful readers?

Conversations with God: How do you pray? Part 1

I know how to settle myself into worship. I know what it is like to be really centered and in that place of expectant worship. And I have tons of informal conversations throughout the day with my version of God. But how do you pray?


I don't even know how to ask for help or guideance in my everyday life from regular folks. How can I possibly do it in my spiritual life? At night I try to pray in a way I began imagining as a child after reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books. But I really feel that sometimes formal prayer is all about wording. Like the saying, "Becareful what you ask for." So it is with prayer. I feel that if I don't word things just right I will indeed get what I am praying for, but not in the ways I had conceived of it.


I am a big believer in the idea that we can ask all we want for something, but the steps we take to work towards that which we pray, through the way we live our lives, is equally important. As a child I used to pray for world peace...which is a really complex goal that has many intricacies, it needs a combination of prayer and personal action. Now I feel like the big stuff, like world peace and a cleaner, safer environment are the backdrop to my conversations with God. God knows my heart, perhaps better than I do, but it is up to me to address issues weighing on me with God. By asking for help and asking God to take up certain things I can let some of it go to do better Works. Granted, I have been only asking for help with two things for many weeks now. Mostly, its because I haven't gotten the wording right...I am terribly fearful at what will happen if we can't make these things work, God and I. I know I should give them over to his wisdom and powers, but the most important one is something I don't know how to give up...and that is the crux of the issue. It is something that I have little control over, yet the thought of living without it is heartbreaking. And the worst of it is, I do not know what steps I can take myself to help God's plan. But I am going to keep praying...because I am not ready to accept a life without the object of my desire.

Love. Love. Love.

This post is rather long and full of quotes. Bear with me.

Sometimes, I like to listen to mellow music while I work. This means I can listen to a lot of love songs over the course of a day. There are a lot of different kinds of love in my ipod:

"My girl, linen and curls
Lips parting like a flag'll unfurl
She's grand, the bend of her hand
Digging deep into the sweep of the sand"
-the Decemberists

"and you were no picnic
you were no prize
but you had just enough pathos
to keep me hypnotized"
-Ani Difranco

"And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster"
-Kelly Clarkson

"I turned around
before I could run
I found you already settled down
in the back of my mind"
-Alison Krauss

"I've got doubts I can't even count.
I've got mirrors that take me apart.
I've got blues, a melting revolt.
I've got songs that stall when they start.
I've got you babe.
Diamonds and pearls, babe.
I've got you girl, that's all I need."
-The Damnwells

"If you want a father for your child
Or only want to walk with me a while
Across the sand
I'm your man"
-Leonard Cohen

"I'll love you till heaven rips the stars from his coat
and the moon rows away in a glass bottom boat."
-Peter Mayer

There are a lot of love songs out there and I know that there are a lot of kinds of love. I'm pretty comfortable with a loving parent/child relationship with my Creator, but I know that doesn't work for everyone. That's okay, because God is all kinds of love.

"Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love."
1 John 4:7-8.

"Everyone who loves" is a strong statement. On the other hand, saying that knowing love and knowing God are the same thing seems overly simplistic. Especially when our culture has a great deal of trouble distinguishing between love and like:

Bianca: There's a difference between like and love. Because, I like my Skechers, but I love my Prada backpack.
Chastity: But I love my Skechers.
Bianca: That's because you don't have a Prada backpack.
-10 things I hate about you

Is it the act of love which makes us open to the knowledge of God? Are we to believe that the capacity for love is inherently human, something which each and every one of us is born with, just as each of us is born with an inherent knowledge of God?

I don't have the answers to these questions. All I know is that I know God in an intimate and yet limited fashion, just as I know love in an intimate and yet limited fashion. I know what it is to be loved and to love, both my neighbor and my God. Oh, and I know that those feelings are pretty awesome.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Personal Query #8

Remembering that excesses which are harmful to human beings are abhorrent to Friends, what can I do to lessen such excesses in my own life, or by example to help others?

I generally think of this query as being about addictive substances. I don't drink to excess any more, I have valid prescriptions for all the drugs I take, and I've smoked about 3-5 cigarettes in the past year or so. I encourage my friends to hang out at times in ways that don't include drinking, especially those who might be drinking a bit much lately. I don't share my pills with folks who would like to take them recreationally. All of this could make answering this query quite easy.

But when I broaden it out to think about what excesses I do have in my life, the picture isn't as pretty. Do I spend my money and time on frivolous things? All the time. How many pairs of leather-free shoes counts as excessive? Okay, I really don't need to ask that question. I know I have more than enough pairs of shoes. But is my shoe collection harmful? I don't know. The hot pink pumps are frivolous, to be certain, but at what point does frivolity become harmful? Is there a time/financial limit? Is one hour of mindless television okay? What about four?

I debated on whether to buy the pink pumps. They are utterly ridiculous. They were also less than five bucks at Goodwill. They amuse me and a little bit of money went in a charitable direction. I think that so long as I'm asking myself if each decision is frivolous, excessive or harmful I'm going to come out okay in the end. It's about being mindful, not about precise pre-prescribed judgments. At least, that's how I see it right now.

Leave that crack alone

Sometimes, people make bad decisions. Really bad decisions. I know of someone who has been making some very bad decisions lately. I find the whole situation upsetting and the details frustrating. How could she be so foolish? What was she thinking? How could she possibly be that stupid and thoughtless? AAAHHHHH!

As I write this, I realize this could actually apply to a lot of different people. From Lindsey Lohan and Nicole Richie to people I actually know to people I deeply care about to people I've never heard of who are nonetheless ruining their lives and the lives of others.

I can't convince any of these people that driving drunk, smoking pot while pregnant, sleeping with someone who doesn't respect you, etc are bad choices. Even if I could talk to them, they certainly wouldn't listen to me. I can't fix these problems but it is incredibly frustrating to see people making mistake after mistake when if they would just listen to me maybe, just maybe, they'd be okay. Not great, but okay.

I imagine that's the level of frustration God has with us. With me. I've make mistakes. I've sinned out of foolishness, out of arrogance, out of anger and fear and he has forgiven me. It's what He does. His mercy is unfathomable and I would do well to remember this a little more often.

The people I'm angry with right now about their stupid decisions for the most part have no idea I'm angry with them. Whether or not I can forgive them is a matter of my own heart and in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter all that much. They are in dire need of His forgiveness, however. It wouldn't hurt if they would listen to their freaking doctors, either.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

That was easy! (NCYM-C Sessions 2007)

Whenever a really simple bit of business was completed, our clerk would press a red plastic "easy button" which would announce cheerfully: "That was easy!" Rumor has it that after a while, Sid's easy button was confiscated. I didn't attend a whole lot of business sessions so that I could recover from and prepare for Bible study, but I was deeply amused by the stories I heard about the "easy button."

In the commercials for the company which makes the "easy button," some sort of complicated office mess is cleaned up by hitting the "easy button". I could have used that while organizing the panel discussion for Saturday night.

After much pulling of teeth, four young adults were wrangled for a panel discussion on growing up in NCYM-C. My answer to one of the questions seemed to touch quite a few people, so I'm going to try to reproduce it here.

Do you have any fond or valuable memories of older Friends that have been meaningful to you on a continuing basis. Did you find any role models among Yearly Meeting Friends outside your immediate family?

Anytime that I am sitting in worship feeling cranky about a leading to speak, I think of Alfred Newlin. He was a recorded minister in a tiny rural meeting in Alamance County. Towards the end of his life, as he was losing his battle with lung cancer, he would sometimes have coughing fits that took him out of worship. For the last few months at least, he was coughing bright red blood into his handkerchief. I remember being told that Alfred was refusing to take the painkillers that his doctors had prescribed because he was afraid of becoming addicted to them, so I imagine he was in a great deal of pain. Every First Day that I was able to attend West Grove, Alfred stood up and gave his message and I never heard him complain. Not about having an incurable cancer, not about the pain, not about death, and never about having to keep up his ministry as he was dying.

I told this story on a panel that I really didn't want to take part in. I thought leading Bible Study was enough. I was still recovering from a migraine I had gotten that afternoon. And I really thought that since the panel was my father's idea that he should have been the one trying to convince people to sit on it. Okay, I still think that. But in the end, I think that the panel went well and I'm glad I participated. It wasn't that hard to talk about the things that we were asked to talk about (especially since many of them were conversations that we as YAFs have had with each other over and over and over). In the end, getting a couple young ladies' butts in the seats and crying a little as I talked about Alfred Newlin wasn't hard at all. In fact, it might well have been an occasion for Sid to use his "easy button."

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Intellectual Quakerism: Of birthrights, convincement, and ethnic Quakers

I started this off with the intention of discussing "Birthright" quakers. I really liked what I had read on the post about birthright quakers from Quaker Street (and I would just like to state that sometimes the best conduct comes from convinced Friends). The post itself and the discussion in the comments was very good. I don't actually know that I can add anything. However, it made me recall some of my first days in big league Quaker circles.

As I have stated in several previous posts I grew up in the middle of no-where-Minnesota. I did not attend Meeting regularly till I was 12. And I choose to go to a Quaker College for the community provided and the opportunity to be surrounded by many other young Friends. I had missed out on going to summer camps and retreats and other such important developmental social functions of young Quakers. I mean yea, I had gone to FGC and yearly meeting and FINALLY got to go to some teen retreats, but I just felt like I was missing something.

However, my midwestern conceptual framework of Quakers was challenged when I arrived at college. The scholarship program I had somehow gotten into seemed to be filled with super-Quakers with connections to big names in Quaker circles, related to influential historical figures, and who had grown up Quaker --filled with camps, social circles, and friendships. While it was annoying that some of the people I was meeting in the program had to express that they new this person and that one...the really annoying part was when they would point out how they were related to insert famous name here. And how they were birthright and that their family had been Quaker for ions. It made me feel small, insignificant, and unworldly. I didn't think Quakers would be like that. I didn't know if I was related to famous Quakers, though my mother's side of the family has been Quaker for ions. It wasn't something that was important to my family...we are more of the live your life, let it speak for you kind of family. Not the speak to make your life more important kind. Which is often what happens with Quakers who feel the need to make you constantly aware of their lineage and relative importance (by way of birthrightness and who they are related to). Now, since I am pointing fingers it should probably be said that I consider Birthright to mean that you are born into the care of a meeting...technically, I was. My mother was a member of a meeting and I was born into the care of the meeting...I still have yet to attend said meeting. But I do consider myself Birthright...I don't care if the Society considers me to be one or not. At 16, I had a clearness committee to become a member of my home meeting. So I am Quaker and that is what matters.

Now, what does this have to do with Intellectual Quakerism. Sometimes it appears to me, that convinced friends (or fellow travelers who attend and don't commit) often love the intellectual aspects of what Friends say in our testimonies and other publications and discussions. In fact, they spend time devouring the writings and practices but have difficulty really getting into the practice and Spiritual practices. The theoretical ideals of Quakers are only a layer of the whole. What are Quakers? Are we a sect? A cult? That is sorta what we were considered early on...but we are a Christian sect...take away Christ and we are just a Peculiar People...which may be more like a cult...with no Charismatic leader...Now before, you start to think I am intolerant of those who do not love themselves some Christ...that is hardly the case...but at the peculiar Quaker College...I somehow learned to be a Christian...Perhaps I should start hyphenating my Quakerness as a Christian-Quaker.

But in truth I want to introduce a concept. Ethnically Quaker.

The term is not my own. A friend first used this in my presence at the retreat in Burlington. We used it to discuss how as individuals who come from Quaker stock, have a tendency as young adults we tend to drift away but cannot imagine being anything else. The ethnic Quaker is a term which to me has a softer tone than Birthright...because you are what you are, imbued with certain attributes based on how you were raised. I also don't see the type of person who loves to shove every one's noses in their birthrightness as using the term ethnically Quaker very often. However, I do think that us ethnic Quakers have an ingrained feel of Quakerism. We know when its right or wrong even if we can't tell you what that is. Sometimes I worry that convinced Friends rely too much on the theoretical ideal of Quakerism making it too cerebral when the theoretical underpinnings of Quakerism are only a fraction of the whole. I am not entirely convinced you can know Quakerism until you have truly felt the stirrings of the Spirit of the living God. Because being a minister (as we all are in Quakerism) means feeling the touch of God. The Nudge. The Stirring. The Calling. The Test. But it is a connection to the Spirit of Life, that of God in you and the experiential--unless you get a little mystical, unless you let God in--regardless of what you call it, you won't get Quakerism. It is not purely theoretical.

O, HAI.

I'm headed off to North Carolina for NCYM-C Sessions, where I'll be leading Bible Study on Isaiah, Early Friends and the Christian Gospel. I'm planning to write up some reflections when I get back, but in the meantime I'll leave you all with this image:



Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Notes at 1:30am

I would like to take a moment to apologize for my last two posts oh-so-many months ago. Not for their personal nature but for how they were expressed. The experiential nature of Quakerism has lead us to value life's experiences as it reveals the Truths necessary to continuing revelations of the Spirit in our lives thereby creating a "kingdom of God" here on this earth. So it is not that I regret the highly personal nature of the posts but the whiney adolescent tone. As a result I took time away from the Quaking Harlot and blogging.

Currently, I have been following conversations on the blogshere and am working on several posts relating to progressive politics and religion, theism and non-theism, convergent Friends, and that thorny issue of "birthright" Quakers.

Peace be with you. And to those of you lucky enough to be at FGC enjoy! The campus at River Falls is very dear to me. As someone from NYM I have spent many lovely times there for YM and was present last time FGC visited.

"and everywhere the world is bare"

When things inevitably go wrong and they inevitably do, I want to curl up in my bed and savor the darkest silence I can find. This is of course, not the best of choices, as it is rarely dark enough and never quiet enough and there's only so much staring at a wall I can do before my thoughts begin to spiral dangerously downward. When things look bleak and I am in need of comfort, I recall a couple of verses from Isaiah:

Comfort, O, Comfort my people!
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem
and cry to her that she has served her term,
that her penance is paid,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins. (Isaiah 40:1-2)

This is the verse I use to remember the feeling I had when I first felt the overpowering glory of forgiveness. Whether I am standing on an overcrowded train, or huddled in my bed or sitting at my desk, I can recite this verse to myself and remember that although my fellow humans may fail me time and time again, He never will. I know that I can place my hope in the Lord and have my strength renewed and that is all I'll ever need.

The support of my dear friends and a little Avril seem to be helping for the moment as well:

Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious
And hell yeah, I'm the motherfuckin' princess

Many thanks for the tea and sympathy,
Elizabeth Bathurst


*For those of you who will be attending NCYM-C sessions next month, I'll be covering Isaiah 40 more in depth, probably on First Day morning.
**Avril will not be covered.
***Sorry about the language, Mama.

Personal Query #5

To what extent is the performance of my worldly duties promoting or hindering my growth in grace and my service for God?

At the moment, there are a lot of things distracting me. I'm conducting a roommate search, exploring a new relationship, and spending a lot of time/energy on my therapy. It's a busy time of year at work, as we approach the end of the fiscal year and budgets must be spent out.

I think that there are ways in which getting my head fixed is helpful to my service for God. It's easier for me to find time to do service work and personal acts of kindness now that I'm doing pretty good. It's also much easier for me to center in worship when my crazy is under control. It's a good feeling, but it also takes a lot of effort.

I wish that I had more time for blogging. It's good for me. I need this space to put my thoughts in order and focus on my spiritual life. I think that it's going to continue to be on the back burner as I prepare for Yearly Meeting. I've still got a lot to think about and a lot to read in order to feel comfortable with leading the things I've agreed to lead. Perhaps I'll get over the hump soon and start enjoying the preparations and get some spiritual satisfaction out of them, but at the moment I just feel utterly overwhelmed.

Love is like rain, Part 2.

once again, this was written a little while ago. I apologize for the delay.

It's another dreary day in Boston. Perhaps the fourth day since we've seen the sun and everyone is getting a little cranky.

Last night, a good friend got engaged. I got word this afternoon that some college classmates are expecting their first child. It's spring and love is in the air.

I'm not immune. In a fit of foolishness, I accepted a date with a lovely man. He's wonderful and bright and everything I would look for in a man, if I were looking.

The first couple of weeks were great. He made excellent conversation and wrote me frequent witty emails. I was smiling and distracted and nothing bothered me all that much.

But last night, things changed. It became clear that things couldn't stay that way forever. It's time to start the unpleasant intimate conversations I'd rather not have. I'm spending too much time thinking about how to tell him x, y, and z when I ought to be doing ten other things. I'm already worried, terrified even of how these conversations will go. I have other things to do. It's not fair that I have to take these things into consideration.

Perhaps my reservations about relationships and love are based entirely in fear. Perhaps I just need to suck it up and hope that there's something comforting and elegant on the other side of this storm. But right now, I can only see fields of mud. I'm already cold and I have no idea if I'll ever be dry and warm again.

I've always taken comfort in the teachings of Christ about marriage:

"Not everyone who can accept this teaching but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so since birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can". (Matthew 19:10-12)

It's okay not to be married. It is not an affront to God to forgo this sacrament. It might bother my grandmother, but really, Jesus matters more.

Paul takes it a little further (as always.) It's not just okay for people to go through life without marriage, it's prefereable. After all, there's more time to focus on living an obidient Christian life when you don't have to worry about maintaining a marriage relationship or support a family.

You might as well get married if you can't keep it in your pants.

Being single is pretty easy for me. I really only have moments of wanting romantic moments in my life. I'm comforted in those moments by the Bible and by my relationship with Christ.

But now there's the young man in my life and already everything is complicated. I'm worried that already I'm being less attentive to the movement of the Spirit. I'm more interested in seeing if he's emailed me.

But I also can't wait to see him on Monday.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst