Revival in Barnesville

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written,

‘For your sake we are being killed

all day long;

we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.’

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

-Romans 8:35-39 (NRSV)

This weekend, I had the honor of attending a weekend at the Young Friends of North America (YFNA) reunion, in Barnesville, Ohio, where several dozen Friends gathered to remember their experiences as young adult Friends as a part of the YFNA, as well as to look toward a future revitalization of the North American young Friends movement. This gathering, as of this writing, is still taking place, and will be continuing until the end of the week. I speak to my experience of what I took part in between Friday evening and early Sunday afternoon. During the weekend, there were two primary focuses that were programmed into the gathering: Celebration of the past YFNA movement, and a chance for current young adult Friends to meet together and discern the will of the Spirit for us as Quaker youth. It was in this context that the Risen Christ created space for the power of the Holy Spirit to be felt amongst us and to guide our gathering to dare to speak aloud our greatest hope and to be broken open to our tenderest wounds. In addition to the twin roles of this gathering as a place for YFNA nostalgia and discernment of way forward for North American young Friends, the Holy Spirit gave us two additional, complimentary charges this weekend: We were called into radical discipleship in the Way of Christ Jesus, and we were moved to wrestle with how the Holy Spirit is leading us into integrity in our sexuality.

On Friday evening, during our first group session, there were in attendance mostly older YFNA “alumni” as well as a dozen or so current young adult Friends. After spending a full hour and a half on introductions, the evening was moseying along primarily as an opportunity for the older folks to indulge in a fair bit of nostalgia. However, about two hours into the meeting, an older Friend from Ireland stood up. This drew our attention immediately, as everyone previously had been speaking from their seats. This Friend, thanks be to God, called us out of a secular trip down memory lane and heralded the arrival of the Holy Spirit in our midst. His message seemed really out of place in the flow of the previous conversation that Friends had been engaged in – which, in that context, seemed like a good sign that his ministry was indeed from God. Friend spoke about the growing tide of darkness in our world and our need to stand up and take seriously the implications of following Jesus, though it be unto imprisonment or death. This message, accompanied by a covering by the Holy Spirit, led the group into a half an hour of open worship, out of which more ministry was given.

On Saturday morning, we broke into small groups, and most of us used that small group time to share about our own experience as being (or having once been) both young Friends and sexual beings. How does God call us to live our sexuality? What romantic and sexual practice leads to more abundant life and which ways of living lead to death? Many Friends felt that they and others had not received the guidance, support, care, and discipline that they needed from their community, which led to much suffering in many cases. While we certainly did not come to unity on any particular vision for Quaker sexuality, there was general feeling that the serious consideration of a “Christian sexual ethics for the 21^st century” would be a positive step forward in strengthening our community.

By the end of the weekend, one Friend felt strongly enough about the past mistakes of her own young Friends community that she felt led to write a minute apologizing for the hurt that the unfaithful sexuality of some Friends caused in her generation. While the larger group was not in unity to approve the minute as a corporate statement, the fact that such a document was written by an individual and presented to the group is an indication of the seriousness with which Friends are taking the question of sexual ethics. I was very pleased to see this kind of serious engagement of sexuality on the part of Friends in Barnesville this weekend. If all Friends were opening themselves up to the admonishing and healing power of the Light as Friends were this weekend in Barnesville, our religious society would be far closer to living the kingdom-life in our romantic relationships.

I must admit that the aspect of this gathering that most surprised me was the amount of Christian language that I heard from so many Friends, accompanied by a deep Quaker understanding of the centrality of the Risen Christ in our midst. At the risk of unfairly maligning some of my brothers and sisters: I did not expect this from liberal-unprogrammed Friends. I know that a small gathering cannot speak for an entire branch of Quakerism, but I must say that the liberal-unprogrammed branch does indeed have its fair share of grounded, weighty – and Christian – Friends! I do think, however, that the Spirit had to make some moves, so to speak, before that reality was able to come to the surface. Two Friends in particular, as I recall, were instrumental in creating a safe space for overtly Christian language – and, in that space, a fellowship blossomed that felt far closer to the radical, Spirit-led Christianity of early Friends than I ever expected to find. I give praise to God for that.

I also praise God for the opportunity that I was given this weekend to experience more deeply the reality that I am not a lone individual, nor even a member solely of my own generation. I am an extension of my parents, and they are an extension of me; my generation is an extension of past generations, and they are extensions of us. When one of us lives in that Life and Power, it affects us all. When one generation sins, it affects all generations. We are not individuals. I am thee, Friend, and thee is me. Our faithfulness or lack thereof resonates between us, yes, throughout the entire Church. We are not individuals, not even family. No, we are something different, something more. We are the Body of Christ. We are the Children of the Light.

We’d Better Get Clear

I spent most of this past weekend with young adult Friends from Baltimore Yearly Meeting and also had the privilege to attend a Quarterly Meeting within Baltimore YM, where Silvia Graves, the General Secretary of Friends United Meeting, spoke. The conversations with young adult Friends before that meeting, the conversations with older Friends at the QM and more conversations with young adult Friends later on today often returned to the question of FUM, and, implicitly, its current institutional stance on homosexuality.

Saturday evening, other young adult Friends and I attended a gay pride
parade near my home in Washington, DC, and I experienced
what I felt was an opening from the Lord. Watching the parade, I saw several local Christian groups - Episcopals, Seventh Day Adventists, Unitarian Universalists, and others - going along in the procession. Sitting there, I felt a movement of the Spirit, and as I bowed interiorly, I was struck - again and again and again - with a two-second soundbite from Deborah Saunder's first sermon at the World Gathering of Young Friends. She had been mocking us young Friends for being so unfocused in our faith journey, and she suddenly became deathly serious: "You'd better get clear," she warned us. This memory, this soundbite of Deborah Saunders saying, "you'd better get clear," repeated in my mind as if fired by an automatic weapon.

You’d better get clear.

Accompanying this message was a great sense of compassion for all of the people I saw before me at this parade, reveling in their sexuality and identity as legitimate human beings. I was struck with the sense that the Church was losing these people. At the recent FUM board meeting in Kenya, as Friends were engaged in debate as to whether or not to re-affirm the Richmond Declaration of Faith, a Kenyan Friend reportedly admonished the board members, saying, "my people are perishing while you squabble." This is no less true in North America than it is in Africa.

While we, the Church, bicker about the very existence of homosexuality, we fail to address the terrible brokenness and unfaithfulness that so many of us find ourselves caught up in with regards to our own sexuality. While we squabble, many Friends deny homosexuals the covenant of marriage. While we scream back and forth about how right or wrong homosexuality is, we seem to be ignoring the lack of integrity with which we carry out our heterosexual liaisons. While we bicker about whether or not to "accept" homosexuality, we avoid doing the important work of preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ to those whose sexual orientation is not our own, yet who want to live the fullness of the Christian life.

We’d better get clear.

I am increasingly aware of how the question of homosexuality in the Church is allowing Friends to ignore so many other more substantive questions that face us as a community. It is a lot easier to focus on nailing down points of doctrine – be it liberal or orthodox doctrine – than it is to take a real look at whether we ourselves are glorifying God with our sexuality. Are we all, hetero- or homosexual, living out our God-given sexuality with integrity and submission to the yoke of Christ? Are we all, gay or straight, engaged in wholesome, committed, honest relationships with others? Do Friends respect the sanctity of the God-given bond of marriage? Perhaps once we get the log out of our own eye, we might see where the root of our struggles as a Church lies.

We’d better get clear.

Suffering and Sanctification

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4 (NRSV)

I have spent most of my life fleeing from suffering. I have imagined that it was something exterior to me, a condition that I could treat with outward remedies. I have made so many changes in my life – moving, changing schools, changing countries – with the hope that by altering things outside of myself I would somehow escape the pain that I had inside of me. I found, however, that I brought my own hell with me, and that anything that I did not deal with here, I would have to deal with there. I could ascend to the tallest mountain or descend to the depths, I could be in the wintertime of Kansas or the summertime of Costa Rica, but always I brought my shadow in tow.

Recently, however, I have begun to see how my suffering originates in the depths of my own heart – and how, if I submit to the Lord, that suffering can be transformed. The Light is like a refiner’s fire that exposes the hidden fortresses and rebellious provinces of my soul, and it has shown me the place from which all conflicts and disputes arise. The piercing illumination of the Light has begun to unveil the cravings that are and have always been at war within me. This is the inner darkness and death that has obscured the living reality of the Kingdom of Heaven throughout my life. This is the slavery to which I am bound, except that I trust in the Holy Spirit to deliver me, and the Light of Christ to search me and let me see myself for who I truly am. And I know that I have still seen only a small portion of the darkness that resides within me in rebellion against the Light.

The dawning of the morning star illuminates the cavernous darkness of my heart, but not all at once. The Light of Christ reveals myself to me in phases. I sense that if the Light revealed the entirety of my depravity, rebellion and darkness all at once, I would be incapable of surviving such a Day of the Lord. Were I to now know just as I am known, I would surely die. Glimpses of my sinfulness are revealed, particular aspects of myself that have long been hurting me without me ever having been aware of it. Sometimes it feels as though I were the captain of the Titanic, being given a guided tour of the submerged iceberg.

This revelation of my hidden darkness, this unveiling of my inner rebellion and wickedness, is immensely painful. I see myself as I am, not as I wish to be. The radiance of the Light leaves no room for the self-deceit that was possible in the former darkness. God puts me on display to myself, rubs my nose in the reality of my own inner corruption, leaving me only two options: denial of the Light, or denial of the darkness. The uncovering of the veiled root of my suffering is deeply painful, in much the same way as the pain that accompanies the cutting away of infection from a wound. This sickness, though, must be revealed, cut out and put to death, if I am to be freed from slavery to sin.

The miracle is this: The Light does not merely reveal my darkness, nor does the Light stop with judgment. No, the Light pushes back the darkness and purifies the corners of my heart where it shines. The Light puts my formerly hidden evil to death and raises that part of me up into new life, resurrected to life in the Kingdom of Heaven. Yes, our Lord comes with the sword, but that which the Light puts to death in me God raises to new life in the service of Christ. My Lord puts me to death, piece by piece, but raises me to new life in the Spirit. This new being that is raised after the purification of my soul by the refining fire of the Light is tender and new. It is a new creation the likes of which this world does not understand, for it has died to death and the power of the world and is now at one with Christ.

A seed sown in the ground does not come to life unless it dies. In the same way, the Seed of Christ lies within us, but we must first be willing to die so that it might sprout and give forth the fruit of the Spirit – the Kingdom of Heaven! I have seen this Seed of Christ sown in the dishonor of my soul but raised in glory, bringing me to new and abundant life. I can testify to the power of the Light in exposing me, destroying every proud obstacle that I have raised up against the knowledge of God. My hope lies in this process of sanctification, in the faith I have that the Light will continue its campaign to take every thought captive to obey Christ.

In the purifying suffering of sanctification, in the rawness and tenderness that the penetrating gaze of the Light engenders, I have faith that the Lord can deliver us from the power of sin and death. The Holy Spirit works eagerly in our lives, if only we will cry out to our Savior. Submitting to the yoke of Christ, we must suffer. We are stripped down, humbled, made tender and all of our worldly security and sense of control is taken away. We suffer to come under the Reign of God, and may well be called to suffer for the sake of that Reign, the eternal core of our new life, our Lord of the New Jerusalem. However, this suffering in Christ is inherently different from our suffering under the former darkness. While we suffered before in ignorance and rebellion, we now suffer in the light of day, knowing for Whom we suffer and in Whom we die.

And though we suffer, this present distress will come to an end, but our Life is forever. We can endure the sufferings that we bear in Christ, because our existence is bathed in the radiance of the Eternal Now and transformed by our knowledge of a victorious end. We have seen the Lamb standing on Mount Zion and know that the time is coming - and indeed the time has already come. The victory has already been won for us in Christ. Here is a call for the endurance of the saints, those who keep the commandments of God and hold fast to the faith of Jesus: Stand firm in suffering that brings us closer to the Lord, for that fleeting discomfort is passing away. Abide in the Truth unswervingly, for soon death will be no more, mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things, that former darkness in which we lived, will pass away.