As Mormon children we are taught a lot about reverence. In Mo parlance reverence doesn’t have anything to do with respect or awe, it’s about sitting quietly in your seat with your arms folded across your lap (and I’m not at all exaggerating about the posture) for the 3-hour block of meetings each Sunday. As children we are repeatedly told this and every week in the children’s Primary meeting there are ‘reverence songs’ to underscore these ideas.

I haven’t heard the word reverence discussed in Quaker circles, at least not in any memorable way. What did move me greatly recently, though, was this blogpost about a Silent Quaker Meeting that wasn’t silent. Because there was an autistic child experiencing silent worship for the first time and it was not a wholly comfortable experience for him. He spoke loudly and was somewhat belligerent. While I cringed just a wee bit at the spectacle aspect of this story, the author does a fine job of illustrating the difference between silence and silent worship. IMO, silent worship does not mean that there is an absence of sound (and anyone who’s worshiped in our downtown Santa Ana Meetinghouse can attest to the fact that street noises don’t preclude Silent Worship).

A quote from the article, explaining what occurred after the close of the not-Silent Meeting:

Friends greeted the mother and the boy. The mother attempted to apologize. No one was having any of that. We knew that we had experience a first rate Quaker meeting. We know that the purpose of meeting is not to escape from the world to a place quiet enough to listen, but to learn to listen well enough that we can listen anywhere, under any conditions. It had been a good and rewarding morning’s practicum. We were grateful. There was not a single kvetcher, not a single grumbler, not then, not later.

One of those present was a new attender, a new Christian, a new Quaker. She is a transgendered woman. She has lots of tattoos. She was checking us out, watchful. She had been burned by church people. She walked up to me after meeting and said “Well, hmm. I guess you really mean it. I guess everyone really is welcome, wow. Walking the talk, hmm.”

God told the psalmist, Be still and know that I am God. Quakers like that verse. Many think the stillness referred to means silence. It does not. The Hebrew verb means to relax, let go, stop trying so hard, release. In order to see God, you have to stop striving, stop relying on your own strength. You have to give up your notions of how things should be. You have to let go of preferences and pet peeves. You have to open yourself up to the uncomfortable.

Then God shows up.

Because I loved this post so very much and I wanted to share it with each of you, I intended to blog about it today. Perhaps it was just coincidence that I received an email message from my LDS ward this morning that illustrated the contrast between the Quaker approach to worship and the Mormon way. My ward’s bishopric sent out a notice to each of the ward members encouraging them to follow the guidelines for reverence set forth in this article by Orson Scott Card (a well-known SF writer and active Mormon). In this piece Card offers a list of simple rules to enforce obedience and reverence in children. He says that when a young child begins to be loud or unruly, their parent must remove them from the meeting immediately and physically confine them in their arms. Some of his instructions:

1) Hold the child firmly in your arms (but not so tightly as to hurt).
2) Hold him in front of you so that he is looking into your eyes. Don’t hold him at your shoulder, like a burping baby, or he’ll kick you mercilessly. And never hold him on your lap so he is looking away from you, toward all the pleasing distractions of the foyer.
3)His arms must not be free, and any limbs that he is flailing about must be made immobile. It is essential that you achieve this through persistence, not through pain. That is, don’t grip him so tightly that he stops struggling because it hurts. Rather grip him firmly enough that he can’t get his limbs free, but whenever he stops struggling there is no pain or even discomfort. In fact, when he isn’t struggling, he finds that he is merely being held close to the warm body of his loving parent.

Card also adds details of what the parents are to say to the child and then how to reward them for subsequent reverent behavior. He states that he has “never seen this fail” to produce the desired behavior modification in children and asserts

If all parents would establish clear rules for their children, and, by persuasion and longsuffering, labor to bring them into compliance with good rules of behavior, not only would our [church] meetings no longer sound like zoos, but within a generation our foyers would be empty because everyone would be in the meeting.

Our children and each new generation of adults, blessed with skills of self-control learned young, would find themselves living in a world that was more civilized because Mormon parents, at least, were no longer raising barbarian children.

Am I the only one who found his rhetoric a bit over the top? Sigh….[and to be honest, I suspect that the din on my ward is much more a product of an overly-large ward that needs to be split and not necessarily about unruly children…]

So John and I have amazingly well-behaved kids. Though I am reticent to take any credit for their goodness, I believe that a large measure of their ability to act appropriately–even in long boring meetings–comes from tolerance and respect. Not merely from learning to respect others, but from being tolerated and respected themselves. We have not tried to “break” the will of our children. Rather, we’ve relished each stage of their development and understood that it’s not appropriate to expect the same behavior of a 3 year-old that you expect from a 13 or a 30 year-old. Likewise, we have regarded our kids’ opinions and ideas highly and have tried to hear their frustrations rather than assert our own expectations on them.

And, honestly, I suspect that if Jesus were to visit my ward’s sacrament meeting, he wouldn’t be sitting on the stand and wishing for parents to more dutifully restrain their young ones.
Rather, I imagine him in his role as a mother hen (see Matthew 23:7), calling his children to himself, enfolding them in his arms and letting each of them know that they are loved, just as they are. And explaining that he instilled children with a sense of wonder and curiosity and strong voices. That these are divine gifts. And that these little ones have much to teach us.

Especially those of us who have forgotten what it means to ‘become as a little child’:

1 At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?
2 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,
3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me. (KJV Matthew 18:1-4)

In our Quaker Meeting, on the first Sunday of each month, the clerk reads the “Advice and Query” for the month to give us something to reflect on as a group. There is also extra time given to speaking about the queries after the regular time allotted to Meeting for Worship.

This is the Advice & Queries that were read in our Meeting today and in other Meetings throughout the region encompassed by the Pacific Yearly Meeting:

Personal Relationships

Advice

In daily relationships with others, both inside and outside the home, our lives as Friends speak immediately and lastingly. In these relationships, our faith may also be severely tested. We are called to respond to that of God in everyone: we are all children of God. Friends celebrate any union that is dedicated to mutual love and respect, regardless of the unique make-up of the family. We strive to create homes where the Spirit of the Divine resides at the center and where the individual genius of each member is respected and nurtured.

Human sexuality is a divine gift, forming part of the complex union of body, mind and spirit that is our humanity. In a loving adult relationship in a context of mutual responsibility, sexuality brings delight, fulfillment and celebration.

The presence of children carries a special blessing as well as responsibility. Children bring unique spiritual gifts — wonder, resiliency, playfulness and more. Recognize and honor the Divine Light within children and treat them with the dignity and respect that is due to all people. Listen to and learn from children; share with them those values and practices that are central to our own lives. Special care must be given to resolving problems between adults and children in a manner that gives equal weight to the feelings and needs of both children and adults. Tender parenting is one of the critically important peace vocations in our society.Make every effort to offer all parents the personal and institutional support that this challenging work requires.

Take a strong stand against any form of abuse, whether that abuse is minor or severe, and whether it is emotional, physical or sexual in nature. The terrible impact of abuse on the most vulnerable members of our families creates lifelong suffering for its victims and is a major source of violence in our society. Perpetrators are themselves usually victims of similar violence and should be approached with compassion as well as firmness.

Queries

Do I make my home a place of friendliness, joy, and peace, where residents and visitors feel God’s presence?

Are my sexual practices consistent with my spiritual beliefs and free of manipulation and exploitation?

What barriers keep me from responding openly and lovingly to each person?

Do we open our thoughts, beliefs, and deep understandings to our children and others who share our lives and our hospitality?

Do we provide our children and young adults with a framework for active, ongoing participation in the Meeting?

[Note: the latter two queries refer to the Meeting as a whole, whereas the others are meant to apply to each individual in the Meeting]

I find that these queries offer a contrast between my experience as a Quaker and my experience as a Latter-day Saint. As a Mormon you are annually (or every other year) asked a list of questions in a one-on-one interview between you and your (male) bishop where you discuss your sexuality and any occasion of abuse within your family. As a Quaker you are offered the queries as a guide for personal reflection and you may share your thoughts with the group as you feel led to do so. Much could be said about the differences between the two systems, but I feel hesitant to comment much more on that right now.

When I first heard this query (last month in October, I believe), my heart leapt when I heard the words “In a loving adult relationship in a context of mutual responsibility, sexuality brings delight, fulfillment and celebration.” Yes, my heart said. That is right. Delight. Fulfillment. Celebration. And I added in my mind: Joy.

Recently I sat down with a dozen or so of my LDS friends and spoke with them about my desire to affiliate with Quakerism. I talked about my deconversion from Mormonism and the joys I feel when worshiping with Friends. As I spoke about Quaker beliefs, practices, and values, one of my friends questioned whether The Religious Society of Friends could really be labeled a ‘religion’ because it doesn’t have any concrete beliefs about the afterlife.

I found this post from Friend Heather to be a nice response to the question of whether Quakerism is a religion. I particularly like these paragraphs:

I don’t worry too much about whether others call what we do a religion. What does the name matter? If we earnestly try to turn our hearts to God, to sit together in waiting worship, and to follow the promptings of the Light revealed to us, then it doesn’t matter what we’re called.

I thought of the many other times and places where I feel the sense of worship: around trees, in meditation, at concerts, in acts of service, walking, dancing, in the presence of the ocean, listening to a child, making love with my husband, experiencing sudden natural beauty, doing mundane chores, knitting, sharing a cup of tea with a friend. I am reminded that it’s all sacred, that God is everywhere, and that all I need to do is open my heart and be where I am, right now.

What do you think? Do names matter? I suspect that most LDS would say that they do. Mormons hold the belief that the name of their church was divinely revealed and that each word in its name has significance. I’m not sure that Quakers give such importance to such words. I do know that they call themselves a ‘religious society’ rather than a ‘religion’ to distance themselves from the hierarchical trappings of most religions (and certainly those contemporary to the founding of Quakerism).

I’ve discussed before how labels matter to me because they are about creating self-identity. But I’m not sure if it’s important to me whether Quakerism is a ‘religion’ per se. It just feels right to me and for me. And perhaps that’s all that matters?

There’s something that’s been bugging me. I’ve been hesitant to blog about it because I want to think I don’t care. But I do.

So, I’ve written before about whether or not I’m an ‘active’ Mormon. Over time I’m certainly becoming less insistent on calling myself active. I don’t think of myself or label myself in that way anymore, really. Am I active in Mormon studies, in thinking about Mormon issues? Yes. Am I active in the LDS church? No.

But what really bugs me are these people in the bloggernacle (the Mormon blogosphere) who, whenever I write something, make these comments about how I’m not Mormon anymore. That’s just not true. My name is still on the church rolls, and I still have a Home and a Visiting Teacher.

I don’t know why it bothers me that they do this. I guess it’s because I’m all about getting to define myself the way that I want to. It’s like this discussion I had with some Friends on Sunday–one is a Hindu Quaker. She was asking me why I can’t be both Mormon and Quaker. I was trying to explain to her how hard that is–that there are all kinds of ways that Mormon-ness is ‘policed.’ Yet the more I thought about it, I realized that if these same people in the Bloggernacle were, say, assigned to home teach an ‘inactive’ or less active Mormon, I doubt they would show up on their doorstep and say, “Hey, you’re not Mormon anymore” or any such thing. So why is it that people will say this to me online? And why do total strangers care so much about my church membership anyways? How is it that they can know how ‘Mormon’ I am without even asking me personally (or w/o speaking to my bishop)?

The Church counts its membership in terms of how many people are listed in the records. I’m still there. I’m still being counted. And that’s important to me.

And I’m also on the roster of my Quaker Meeting. And that’s important to me, too.