At my Quaker meeting, there has been talk about silence and the role it plays in our times of worship. (Funny, isn't it, how Quakers love to talk about silence!) Certainly, silence plays an important role in Quaker worship, but equally important is what Quakers call "waiting upon the Lord" or "listening spirituality." Quakers are called not just to meditate in silence, like Buddhists, but also to listen deeply and compassionately for the "still, small voice" within ourselves and others. We are called not to worship silence, but to worship in silence.
I'd like to share my
thoughts about the types of Quaker silence, based on my decades of experience
as a Friend. There have been times when Quaker worship has
been extremely helpful in my spiritual journey, and at other times not so much.
In this blog I will share the kinds of silence that I have experienced, and also what kind of silence "speaks to my condition" during the Covid pandemic. You may
have had experiences significantly different from my own, which are no doubt
valid and important to you. If so, I'd love to hear about them.
1) Holy silence. By
this I mean a deep feeling of connection and peace that occurs when people come
together and experience the Divine Spirit of Love and Truth. Holy silence is
most likely to occur when people have a common purpose and intention and have
had some previous experience of Holy Silence. This experience was called by
early Friends a "Gathered Meeting," meaning that people feel that
they have been gathered together under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. In this
spiritual state, they usually find little need to speak and if they do,
messages are usually brief and powerful.
2) Blessed silence.
This kind of silence occurs when people come together seeking to
have a spiritual experience. Sincerely seeking, they wait in silence hopeful
that this practice will bring them closer to each other and to something
greater than themselves. They yearn for inner peace and often have a glimmering
of it. In this state of spiritual seeking, they are apt to speak of their
personal struggles and experiences. This practice is akin to worship
sharing. I call it “blessed” because it is genuine and honest and can lead
to deeper spiritual insight. Sharing from the heart can bring people closer to
each other and to the Divine. In my experience, most Quaker worship falls into
this category.
3) Unholy
silence. I use this term advisedly, but I feel that I must use
it since it describes what I have experienced from time to time in meetings
where there is judgmentalism and back biting. (Yes, there is back biting
among Quakers, just like other religious people.) When people come together to
worship in silence, some become extremely critical if anyone breaks the silence
and speaks. They feel that this somehow desecrates the "holy silence"
and impugn egotistic motives to the person speaking. They complain to the
elders--Worship and Ministry--in hopes that the offending person will be
"eldered" and silenced. They do not realize that their judgmentalism creates
an atmosphere of intimidation that stifles the Spirit and prevents the kind of
truly holy silence that they seek.
Pacific Yearly
Meeting’s Faith and Practice provides some useful and clear
guidelines to help us to listen faithfully and compassionately in “holy
silence:”
“Friends try to listen more than they speak,
keep an open heart, seek the Spirit behind the words and hold the speaker in
love. Listeners may find it helpful to pray that the messenger is faithful to
the call, and that God’s word will emerge through the medium of human speech. A
message that does not speak to one person’s needs may be helpful to another.
After a message has been given, it is important to allow time to ponder its
meaning, letting the Spirit move through the assembly of Friends before another
ministers.”
During this time of pandemic, it has been challenging to know how to practice our Quaker mode of worship while sitting in front of a computer screen staring at boxes with people’s faces. To me, it seems a little weird. For many weeks, people were disinclined to speak and I did not feel nourished spiritually. Staring for an hour at a silent screen only increased my sense of isolation. I asked myself, why not just go to my room and worship alone in contemplative silence?
What I found most rewarding and fulfilling was not the "worship" but the fellowship time in break out groups that occurred afterwards. These gatherings met my need for connecting with my fellow Quakers.
After many weeks of meetings in which no one spoke, it took courage to break the silence which had seemingly become habitual rather than Spirit-led. I was grateful when someone had the courage to share a message from her heart, and this inspired others to do likewise. Meetings in which people share from their hearts seem much more spiritually fulfilling to me than silently staring at a computer screen during this pandemic. I am coming to feel that during these times when we are socially isolated, we need to practice worship sharing—or what I am calling “blessed silence”—rather that strive to be totally silent. Others may feel differently. But I hope that however we choose to worship, we can maintain a spirit of love and compassion towards one another. That, to me, is the purpose and the essence of genuine worship, whether Quaker or otherwise.
Mark is a Jewish American with deep family roots in the Holy Land. In his writing and speaking, Mark focuses on the role of religious beliefs and theology and the function of interfaith relations in the current search for a just peace between Israel and the Palestinians. He is Research Fellow in Systematic Theology and Ecclesiology at Stellenbosch University in South Africa and has worked with church leaders from numerous traditions on their policies and actions with respect to Israel and Palestine. Mark has authored two books: Fatal Embrace: Christians, Jews, and the Search for Peace in the Holy Land and A Wall in Jerusalem: Hope, Healing, and the Struggle for Justice in Israel and Palestine.