Quaker Alphabet Blog 2014 - O for Obedience

St Martin of Tours, Chelsfield, Kent

Going to a family wedding last week reminded me of my own, almost 44 years ago. Chris and I were married in the Church of England parish church near my home and what a trial we must have been to the vicar! To begin with, although we knew that we wanted (and our families expected) a religious ceremony, our relationship to the church was ambivalent. I had been baptised into the Church of England but had refused to be confirmed as I didn't see why I needed any priestly intermediary between myself and God - you can see why I was so happy to find Quakers later on! Chris had not even been baptised as at the time of his birth his father was a Baptist, later becoming a URC minister. The vicar accepted my position but Chris had to produce a letter from his old college chaplain (at that time conveniently a bishop) to prove his qualifications.

On top of this we had the certainty of youth (we were 22 and 23) that we did not want to use the 'modern' marriage service but insisted instead on the traditional 1662 version, the language of which we both preferred. We swept aside the vicar's objections, assuring him that that we understood what we would be saying, even though it meant that I would promise to 'obey' my husband. After all it was a safe promise to make, as Chris would never ask me to do anything unreasonable!

Lucretia Mott

Looking back, a wife's obedience to her husband has indeed hardly figured in our marriage. I hope that we have so far managed to live up to the aphorism favoured by the American Quaker (and feminist) Lucretia Mott. 'In the true marriage relationship the interdependence of the husband and wife is equal, their dependence mutual and their obligations reciprocal'.

But perhaps the importance of the possibility of obedience was always there and it has always been an important part of my commitment to Quakerism. Our worship and testimonies are based on a willingness to be led by the Light, by our Inward Guide, into action and behaviour that, individually and corporately, we might not choose for ourselves. I know that when I have felt led into a new path on my spiritual journey at first it often seems impossible. The leading is not demanding, but it is insistent. It may recede from the forefront of my consciousness for a while but it does not go away. In the end, with the help of my friends, my family and my community, I have found a way forward in faith - I have obeyed. Corporately too Quakers have been led to positions which are often uncomfortable, which are sometimes too difficult for some individuals, but which are still spirit-led.

Obedience is not something to be entered into blindly but it is an important part of the Quaker way. As Isaac Penington put it in 1661, 'Give over thine own willing, give over thy own running, give over thine own desiring to know or be anything and sink down to the seed which God sows in the heart, and let that grow in thee and be in thee and breathe in thee and act in thee'.

What is wrong with 25 things?

I am the sort of person who always fills in questionnaires so when I was tagged over on Facebook by a friend who had written 25 random things about her life, with an invitation to do the same and tag other people, I joined in straight away.

The exercise helped me focus a bit more on the family history which I have resolved to start writing this year and I got some friendly feedback. I have also enjoyed reading other people's lists and their different approach to the same request. However some of the responses were dismissive and very much opposed to the whole idea of 25 (or 30) things. People had been overwhelmed by requests, and of course Facebook can be like that, but there was also a feeling that the whole enterprise was selfish, self-absorbed and irredeemably trivial.

I have to admit that I was puzzled and a bit hurt by this but then I remembered that when I was giving workshops on spiritual autobiography some years ago in which I not only talked about the history of the form but tried to encourage people to write their own, I encountered the same kind of reaction. Any kind of examination of one's own life and certainly any attempt to share it with others was characterised as selfish and therefore wrong.

My definition of spiritual autobiography was encapsulated in the title of the workshop 'Turning Inside Out'. It is the story of a person's spiritual journey written by themselves. But it is more than that because it is written from the first not for the individual alone but for the benefit of others, both now and in the future. The extent to which it is published or shared is the author's choice but the intention to share is always there. In order to write a spiritual autobiography we first turn inwards and examine our spiritual journey and how we have got to where we are. Then we turn the inside outwards and share our experience with others in order to help them if we can.

For me writing lists of 25 random things about my life on Facebook is another way of sharing my spiritual journey and opening a window on my life. It is also, importantly, a way of listening to others who are sharing their lives with me. It is part of the process of writing my spiritual autobiography because as an exercise it helps me to focus on different aspects of what I want to share. So long as I use the lists in this way I don't believe I am being totally self-absorbed or selfish.

I am often encouraged on my way by voices from the past. One of these is Alice Hayes who published her spiritual autobiography 'A legacy or widow's mite' in 1723 partly because she wished that when she was going through the spiritual struggle that led to her becoming a Quaker she could have read about others who had had similar experiences. She says "Truly I have thought that if I had met with the like Account of any that had gone through such exercise it would have been some Help to me."

Even on Facebook!

A Happy Return

Today is my 60th birthday so I thought this was an appropriate time to get back into blogging. Obviously I haven't said anything here for a long time but I have been reading other people's blogs - especially via http://www.quakerquaker.org/. Thanks a lot Martin for helping me keep in touch with the Quaker conversation.

60 feels signficant to me. I'm officially an Old Age Pensioner from today with a state pension and a free bus pass - not to mention free prescriptions, eye tests and lots of other goodies! I'm determined to use all the opportunities I have and to keep thinking and learning all I can, but at the same time I am on a continuing journey to discern what I need to do, rather than what I think I should.

I retired from paid work in the middle of 2006 and I am still getting used to that. I'm doing some 19th century Quaker research which is taking me in unexpected directions. I have decided that I need to write my family history in order to understand where my parents came from as well as myself. There is a lot to write about here so I will try to do that as well as reading other blogs.

Top of the family tree

This morning the phone rang as we were getting ready to go to meeting and just for a moment I thought it was my mother wanting something. Then I remembered – she died 6 weeks ago.

She was 92, physically increasingly frail although mentally alert, so in many ways her death was expected. Certainly she herself had been wishing for it for years, but I had somehow convinced myself that she would go on for ever.

She was taken into hospital on a Thursday with a suspected heart attack although the doctors were not sure what was wrong. I was called and sat with her for 10 hours as we waited for diagnoses and decisions. At the time I was anxious, frustrated and exhausted but I am glad now that we had that time together. I held her hand and interpreted between the hospital staff and her deafness and she stroked my head, something I cannot remember her ever doing before, and apologised for all the grey hairs she had given me.

She was admitted for tests but the weekend intervened and the tests were not done. I settled into a visiting routine shared with my son Matt who lives nearby and she seemed to be improving, finding the energy to complain and demand as usual. On Monday, after I had seen her at lunchtime, she saw a doctor she liked who told her they were still not sure what was wrong. My son saw her in the evening and told me she was in fine form, laughing and joking with him. Early on Tuesday morning came the phone call from the hospital I had been dreading for years. “Your mother’s not good. Please come now.” In fact by the time the call was made sudden heart failure had almost certainly already taken her past any hope of resuscitation.

Since I said goodbye to her that morning I have had a lot to do and think about. I am slowly coming to terms with the absence of someone who had gradually needed more and more of my time - two days a week with her and many more hours organising her care and her finances, worrying about her and looking for ways to make her existence more bearable. I miss her and weep at the most unexpected things but at the same time all kinds of possibilities are opening up in the space she has left.

I am an only child and my father died 22 years ago. Now I am at the top of my family tree, the older generation, the keeper of family memories. More than ever I feel a responsibility to write down what I remember, what I have been told and what I can find out. I made a start when I wrote the eulogy for my mother’s funeral, trying to be fair to her and true to our intense and not always easy relationship. Writing this is another step on the journey.