Tuesday, July 12, 2016

A Radical Kind Of Love

When I observe my Quaker community with eyes of love, I see great potential for societal change.  I see it in the way long-time Friends address expressed disparities in opportunities for leadership by young people.  I see it in the response from young Friends when they see the good intentions of long-time Friends as they falter and struggle to listen.  It's this certain kind of perfection that persists in the Society of Friends and it's this hope and resilience that keeps Friends from leaving our small international community of spiritual peace activists.  And now, it is the humble, yet disturbing realization that American Friends have continued to accept privilege from a white supremacist, dominant culture.  Friends of color have been excluded from leadership since emancipation but resilient in delivering a loving message of imperfection despite now welling anger and sadness at the ignorance of many Friends.

Though it is a powerful temptation to step back and criticize our communities and organizations for their ongoing acceptance of power over others, it is more in alignment with the leadings of the Spirit to point out all of the reasons why we can change.  It is right to open our eyes to the tragic difference between who we can be and who we are right now.  To have this vision of a world transformed, means hearing the prophetic voices of Friends who are describing what this new world of inclusion looks like and how we as Friends look when we are in it.  Together, we must hold hands and leap across the river of disbelief and arrive hand in hand on the other side, where all are welcomed, encouraged, empowered, and acknowledged for their gifts, regardless of how the dominant culture functions. 

When Friends walk by the leadings of Spirit in every step, we are guided through darkness and tribulation with hope and joy.  When we keep in the presence of the Light and refresh ourselves constantly with the breath of this presence, we are with one another beyond the walls of the meetinghouse.  Yet, we are not separate from those around us, who have nothing to do with the Society of Friends and could care less about whether we are humble or honest.  It is out in the world, walking with Black Lives Matter and others that are not Friends' organizations, where we shine with this strength.  When we walk in the Light of God/Spirit, this Light is in each living presence we encounter, but most importantly, it shines on our darkness as well.  For me, it is like being hugged and held by a forgiving, strengthening, and loving force that is coming from within and yet is all around.  I feel safe, and at the same time very awake to the violence and inequality I sense around me, sometimes apparent only in imperceptibly small ways.  It is gratitude I feel when I walk in this way.  

It is the belief in our ability as humans to be in this radically loving place that I hope I share with all Quakers that gives me the strength to stay in this vision of transformation beyond the reality of violence and inequality.  


I suppose what I am saying here, is that if love is the first motion, the motion is to observe the goodness of Friends and our potential to transform our society into one that is inclusive, open, and forgiving.  I prefer to have this hope and support when I must surrender each day to the willing of Spirit.  I trust the guidance of Love and all I have learned about this Way from Friends.  

Learn More:  Fit For Freedom, Not For Friendship (Book) 
                      Women of Color Speak Out (Seattle)

Friday, July 8, 2016

The Gathering

Dr. Nekima Levy Pounds, a civil rights attorney, community organizer, and law professor, spoke to Friends gathered in the wake of yet another killing of a man of color by police in Minneapolis. She spoke to us as the holders of privilege and authority. Here is a poem that rose out of this event. 

VOICES 


Speak to me truly 
this time I tell you 
I will hear my place 
On top is killing 
My place where I am safe 
And you are not
For property returned undone 
Undone of self respect 

We cannot confiscate
Cannot conceal 
Hands are up to silence 
This murmur long and deep 
Hands up, don't shoot 
Hands up for a silent silence 
In a room screaming 
Say you're sorry! 
Give it back! 
It's not yours to take 
Or give 
Or live

All you got is time to listen
Open up your ears to hear
Your eyes to see 
Your whole selfs got to change
You're  a fragile egg shell 
Holding seeds of tiny prisoners 
In your hands
Who, instead of saving, you eat for breakfast next to the pigs and Irish potatoes
Whistling a tune for 
Woe be gone days when me and mine had all there was 
All the power 
All the land
All the rights
All the freedom 
Stolen from the flesh 
Of our own righteousness. 

Away away in Dixieland, there flows a river of blood wide and long, from South to North and West to East out into the desert growing in our hearts. 

And now you know. And love flows in, and through, for you, my children, for you. For you are now and this is when we stop our hands a wringing and set the system free.