Let's Talk About Sin

[The message I gave in programmed worship on August 2, 2015 at First Friends Meeting.  An audio recording of the message is available on the First Friends website.]

2 Samuel 12:1-13 (NRSV)

And the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor.  The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him.  Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.”  Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man.  He said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.”

Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more.  Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites.  Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife.  Thus says the Lord: I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes, and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of this very sun.  For you did it secretly; but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.”  David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.”  Nathan said to David, “Now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die.”

This morning we are talking about a challenging topic: sin.  A lot of the time, Quakers do not like to talk about sin.  We prefer to start with the Light within: there is that of God in each of us, and if we listen for that voice of God, we will hear.  But sometimes that Light within is what shows us the ways that we have strayed, the ways that we have missed the mark.  And there are a lot of people missing the mark in this passage.

I also think it’s important to talk about sin because, as one of my professors in seminary said, if we don’t have a theology of sin, then we tend to locate sin outside of ourselves.  We see it in other people or other kinds of people rather than in ourselves.

A lot of people know the story that came before this one, the story of Bathsheba, but let’s talk about that first so we have some context.  It’s a hard story.  David had become king of Israel.  He was the ruler with all the power, and he had wives, property, and a house.  One day as he looked out, he saw this woman Bathsheba as she was bathing for a purification ritual, and he wanted her.  So he sent out his men to her and brought her to him.  He knew she was married to Uriah, but he did this anyway, and he slept with her.  Then when Bathsheba told David that she was pregnant, he first tried to get her husband to come back to make it seem like the baby was his.  But when Uriah refused, David then arranged to have him killed in the front line of battle.

So we go from that story to the story of Nathan confronting David.  This is the second time that we have seen Nathan confront David: we saw that a few weeks ago when David wanted to build a house for God and Nathan said no, David would not be the one to build a house for God.  And so Nathan comes again to David and he tells him this story and gets David to be sympathetic.  Then he tells David, “You’re the one who did this.”

Often when I hear sermons on this passage, they focus on that first part: on the story and on David, and how Nathan kind of tricked David, and they ask us to sympathize with David.  But what struck me when I read this passage again is that even though this is a story about Bathsheba, the passage never says her name.  The passage says she is the wife of Uriah.  It is not only Bathsheba who is treated as property in this passage, but all of the wives are treated as property.  As punishment for David’s sin, Nathan says that his other wives will be taken before his eyes and given to another and another person shall lie with his wives.

David wrote a Psalm after this story.  Psalm 51:3-5 says,

For I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
    and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are justified in your sentence
    and blameless when you pass judgment.
Indeed, I was born guilty,
    a sinner when my mother conceived me.

In this Psalm, David is saying that he sinned against God alone, but I disagree!  David sinned against Bathsheba and he sinned against Uriah.

I have struggled with the idea of sin.  I came from a denomination that was much more focused on sin than Friends sometimes are, and there was a lot about making everyone feel bad and guilty.  I don’t think that’s necessarily helpful.  But I read a book recently that really helped me rethink sin.  The book is by Serene Jones and it is called Feminist Theory and Christian Theology.  I am going to draw on some of Jones’ ideas on oppression and sin to approach this passage.

Bathsheba lived in a patriarchal system.  She lived in a system that did not recognize her full humanity.  In her book, Jones reminds us that there is a tension between individual and personal sin and collective and institutional sin.  We see David’s individual sins here: murder and rape.  Those are sins that are easy to identify.  But there is also a sin here: both David and Nathan are within this patriarchal system.  Denying Bathsheba’s humanity is a sin and it is contrary to how God wants the world to be.  Jones says that we believe, as Christians, “that the brokenness we experience is not right, that there must be another way for us to live, a way that enables the flourishing of women and of all people.” (93)

So David confesses his sin to God and he is forgiven, but Bathsheba is still hurt.  Bathsheba is powerless, she is marginalized, and she is subject to sexual violence.  These are faces of oppression that we still see in lives of women today.

The Psalm also says, “Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.”  That, to me, sounds like original sin, which is another thing that I have really struggled with.  And I think especially for many women, sin talk has meant people telling them that they should be ashamed of their bodies and ashamed of their sexuality.

That is a way that this passage is often interpreted.  I read a commentary yesterday saying that Bathsheba was a righteous woman: there is no indication that she was unfaithful to her husband.  That was healing for me to read, but it still kind of said that it was her fault.  The commentary said that she was doing this ritual washing at the wrong time, and that was why David raped her.

I can’t believe that.  I can’t believe that it was her fault.

This book by Jones has been helpful for me because it takes some of the traditional male approaches to theology and she re-maps them from the perspective of women.  A powerful example for me was contrasting how the theologian Calvin saw sin (this is a kind of traditional version of sin) with a woman’s experience.  Calvin described sin as looking into a mirror and seeing oneself, and the sin that one sees is pride.  This is a version of sin that really comes from the perspective of a man with a lot of social power and a loud voice.  But for many women, the sin is not pride.  Women are much more likely to have an incomplete sense of self, and the sin is not being able to see one’s full self.  So Jones suggests instead an image of a mirror that is fragmented.  That we are looking into a mirror and not seeing our complete selves.  That we are looking into a mirror and not seeing the world as it should be, not the way God intends it to be in its wholeness.

Jones also re-maps the idea of original sin in a way that is helpful for me.  She says that we recognize that we are all born into systems of oppression.  I named some of those earlier in oppression of women: women are oppressed by being powerless, by being marginalized, and being the subject of sexual violence.  We are all born into a world where that happens.  It’s not something that we can avoid.  But we have the opportunity to resist these systems of oppression as they come up in our lives.  As people make small comments or we see something that we know is just not right, we can speak up against these systems of oppression.  Or we can perpetuate them.  We are in them, regardless.

The last time we talked about David and Nathan, I asked who we identify with in these passages.  And I ask that again: who do we identify with when we hear this story?  Do we identify with David, the ruler who has lots of power and is recognizing his own individual sin?  Do we identify with Nathan, a prophet who is confronting David and is doing the right thing, but is still complicit in this system of oppression of women?  Do we identify with Bathsheba, the person who has been sinned against but is not named?

When have people sinned against us and then made it all about them?  When have we had to confront people in authority about the ways they have perpetuated systems of oppression?  How do we do this within the relationships that we already have?  
 
Last week in Deborah’s message, we heard the passage in Ephesians 4:1 that begins, “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called . . .”  How do we walk worthy of our calling?  How do we name uncomfortable truths?  How do we recognize these systems of oppression that we are in?  It’s not just oppression of women, but oppression of people of color, and people with disabilities, and people with diverse sexual orientations.  We may be called to speak out against any one of these, or we may be called to speak out where they intersect.  How do we listen to what our calling is?

As we enter into a time of open worship, I invite everyone to listen for the voice of God.  Listen to how God is calling us in these hard places.

Sexuality and Quaker Identity

For my project for my Sexuality in the Bible class, I facilitated a panel at Atlanta Friends Meeting after meeting for worship on November 30, 2014. The format was to have three Friends on the panel share for 10-15 minutes each about how their sexuality (defined broadly to include sexual orientation, gender identity, marital status, and anything else that seemed relevant) has impacted their faith life and their Quaker identity. After the panel, I invited the rest of the people in the room to join the conversation in worship sharing: speaking out of the silence from their own experience in response to the query, “How has your sexuality impacted your Quaker identity?”

I initially hoped to have the forum on the last Sunday in October, but there was another event scheduled for that time. It was a little challenging to find people for the panel on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, but I eventually found three people who were willing: “Anna,” a gender-nonconforming woman in her early 20s who identifies as queer, “Bruce,” a gay man in his late 50s, and “Mia,” a lesbian woman in her early 50s. I did not intend to have only queer-identified people on the panel (I had hoped to have at least one straight person!), but those were the people I found who were willing to participate. There were 22 people present for the panel, ranging in age from 20s to 70s, queer and straight, some married and some not. I invited the teens in the meeting, but none of them decided to come.

Anna spoke first. She grew up as a Quaker and spent several years questioning her sexual orientation and gender identity. She came out as queer in college, and her family and faith community were supportive. She is still questioning her gender identity, but is comfortable with female pronouns and with calling herself a gender-nonconforming woman. Anna said that she was glad to have grown up among Friends, who allowed her to be whoever she was. She was active in the gay/straight alliance in her high school and appreciated all of the support that Quakers offered to LGBT teens. She thinks it was helpful for her as she questioned her own identity, even though she had not yet come out. She feels that her identity as a Quaker is more central for her than her identity as queer or gender-nonconforming, and that has given her something to hold on to even as she questioned other parts of her identity. She also feels like her questions about identity have led her to what she wants to do with her life. She plans to apply to graduate school next year and would like to focus on the intersection of identity and environmental studies, particularly looking at individuals’ narratives.

Bruce spoke next. He talked about how grateful he is that he can now have easy conversations with family members about his partner, in part because his parents have passed away. His father was very conservative and left the Episcopal church over the ordination of women. Bruce was always very politically liberal, and he thinks the fights that he had with his father about politics were really a front for the conversation they did not have about Bruce’s sexual orientation. Bruce knew from a young age that he was attracted to men, but he prayed that God would take those feelings away. He laughed that God always answers prayer, but not always in the way that you want! Bruce said that, even ten years ago, he would have changed that part of himself, but now he sees it as an opportunity for ministry. He has experienced feeling like an outsider, which made him more compassionate, and he is able to share with others about his sexual orientation. Bruce told us how he sat on a nine-hour flight next to a Mormon man who had never met an openly gay man. A week later, the Mormon man sent him a copy of the Book of Mormon with a note saying that their conversation had given him a lot to think about. Bruce felt like it was an opportunity for both of them to learn.

Mia spoke last, and she began with an explanation of how she uses the word “God.” She struggles with saying “God” because it seems male and white to her, but she still uses it because everyone knows what it means. She is not sure whether she believes in God, but she does believe in that of God in everyone. That is the basis for her understanding of sexuality. It is a recognition of that of God in everyone, and sex is a meeting of that Spirit in two people. She feels like her identity as a lesbian and a woman are much less important than her identity as a Friend. Mia is involved with the high school program at the meeting and has taught First Day School in the past. She tries to bring this sense of identity to her teaching and help her students recognize that of God in everyone they meet.

When I opened up the discussion for worship sharing, several Friends spoke. One woman quoted Romans 12:2, “Do not conform to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your spirit.” She said that, as a straight woman, she had mostly conformed to the expectations of her culture, but having a friend who struggled with her lesbian identity to the point of being suicidal helped open her eyes to the diversity of sexual identities and the pain that the society cause to those who did not conform. Another woman talked about how she grew up during the sexual revolution, when it seemed like everything was permissible, but her experience was that a lot of people got hurt through sexual encounters, emotionally or physically (particularly during the AIDS epidemic). What she took away from that experience was that sex was a powerful thing that must be engaged in carefully.

A theme in the sharing was how to talk about sex and sexuality with the children in the community in an age-appropriate way. There was a desire to do so, but some questions about how. I shared that, having grown up in purity culture, I know that a lot of girls do not learn that sex should be pleasurable. I said that I hope the meeting can talk about how sex is a powerful thing, but also a source of pleasure, joy, and connection. One woman reflected how glad she was that two of the people on the panel had come out in environments that were supportive of their sexual orientations. She expressed the hope that the meeting could be a place for children to be who they are, LGBT or straight, and be supported as they question, evolve, and grow.

I was very pleased with how the panel and conversation went, and I got a lot of good feedback from the panel members and those who attended the panel. After we concluded, people stayed to talk with each other about the topics that arose. I think that there will be ongoing conversations in the meeting about sexual identity and Quaker identity, and it seems like there may be more thought and work on a sexual education curriculum for children based on these conversations.

Seeking the Living Water

[The message I gave out of open worship at the Friends World Committee for Consultation Section of the Americas consultation in High Point, NC.] 


At Freedom Friends Church, we always begin with gratitude.  I am grateful to be here with all of you this evening.  I am grateful for safe travels and warm welcomes.  I am grateful for Deborah S, who is eldering for me, and for all of the Friends who are holding me in prayer.  I am grateful for all of you, for the joy and hope and love you bring to this gathering.  I am grateful that God is not finished with us yet.

In Jeremiah 2:13, the prophet Jeremiah speaks the word of the Lord, saying, “My people have committed two sins:  They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and they have dug their own cisterns, cisterns that cannot hold water.”

As I was preparing this message, two images from the natural world came to me.  The first is of dead trees filled with salt in Alaska.

I was born and raised in Alaska, and so was my mother, and so were her parents.  That place is deep in my bones.  There are certain colors and smells and images that I associate with it, and when I see them or smell them, I know that I am home.

One of the most haunting images of my childhood was of these dead trees.  They are a result of the 1964 earthquake.  That earthquake was 9.2 and lasted for four minutes.  My grandparents and my mother thought that it was the end of the world.  They ran outside as their house fell off its foundation.  The destruction was incredible.

In one part of Alaska, the ground sank below sea level, and the trees’ root systems filled with salt water.  Decades later, you could drive by and see these ghost trees, standing exactly as they stood during the earthquake.  It is a haunting image and one that seemed like it would last forever.

This was a natural reaction to a natural disaster.  The water that killed those trees had been living water, but it was no longer life-giving for those trees. 

Sometimes when we encounter God, it feels a little like that: overwhelming.

There is a story in the Bible where Jesus takes three of his disciples up onto a mountain to pray, and while they are there, they have an encounter with the living God.  As Jesus was praying, his face was transformed and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightening.  (Luke 9:29)

This story is like another story in the Bible, where Moses also went up a mountain to encounter God.  After he did, his face also glowed.  His face was radiant because he had spoken with the Lord.  (Exodus 34:29)

But the first time Moses went down from the mountain, he found that the people had built a golden calf and were worshiping it.  (Exodus 32:5-6)

The question that people always ask is, How could the Israelites do that?  They had just had an incredible encounter with the living God; God had just rescued them from slavery in Egypt and performed miracle after miracle.  But I think it is not in spite of that encounter with God that the Israelites built the golden calf, but because of it.

A phrase you often hear Quaker ministers say to each other is, “Watch what you fill up on.”  When we encounter the living God, that experience changes us, inside and out, and others can see it.  We feel different and we look and sound different. 

Afterward, there is a strong impulse to recreate the experience, to fill the hole that was so recently filled by the presence of God.

And, in the story of Jesus on the mountain, this is what Peter wanted to do.  He saw Jesus’ radiant face and the two men with him and said, “Master, it is good for us to be here.  Let us put up three shelters―one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”  The Bible says that he did not know what he was saying.  (Luke 9:33) 

But Peter knew that he had encountered the living God.  He wanted to mark the experience and hold on to it by making a tabernacle, but the spirit of God had moved on.

I began with Jeremiah 2:13, a passage that has been important to me.  But when I was in North Carolina a couple years ago, a Friend from Ohio Yearly Meeting reminded me of another passage about water.  Proverbs 5:15 instructs us to “drink water from your own cistern, running water from your own well.”

The context of this verse is faithfulness to one’s spouse, but I think it works for the Religious Society as Friends as well.  We are all here because we have found something, we have encountered the living God, we have found the living water here among Friends.  Where have we found it?  Where have we abandoned it?  Where do we find it now?

Even if we have abandoned the living water or we have set up monuments to the past, there is always hope.  Even those ghost trees that haunted my childhood won’t last forever.  When I was a teenager, an artist began to make salt and pepper shakers out of the trees. 

The second image from the natural world that came to me is of a place that I used to pass by in Salem, Oregon when I would take walks on my lunch break.  It was a place that had been a concrete driveway, but the concrete had been taken away and there was grass growing where it had been.  After a while, you couldn’t even see where the concrete had been, it was just grass.

Concrete seems permanent.  It is heavy and it seems like it will last forever, but it doesn’t.  It is possible for grass to grow where there was once concrete.

Transformation is always possible.

Thoughts on Leadings III

[My reflection paper for the Pacific Northwest Quaker Women's Theology Conference.  The theme and quotes for reflection are available online here.]

As I write this from Atlanta, the Pacific Northwest feels very far away.  At the same time, the theme of “Wilt Thou Go On My Journey” speaks to me, and especially the quote from Luke, where Jesus tells the disciples to go out and take nothing on the journey.  Last year, I sold and gave away almost everything I owned because I felt God leading me to go to seminary.  At the end of my first year, I am still not sure why or what I will be doing when I am finished with this degree.  But I felt clear that this was the path for me and I am continuing on it.

The quote from Isaiah (“Here I am.  Send me!”) made me smile.  Out of context, it seems so hopeful and encouraging.  But the chapter goes on to say that Isaiah will speak but the people will not understand.  When Isaiah asks how long, God responds, “Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is utterly desolate.”  (Isaiah 6:11)

This is a hard message.  God is asking Isaiah to go out and speak to a people whose eyes are shut and ears are closed, until everything is destroyed.  But at the end, a stump remains, and “The holy seed is its stump.”  (Isaiah 6:14)  This passage and the other quotes remind me that in ministry, our goal is faithfulness, not success.  God may be calling us to do or say hard things, things that others may not understand.  And yet, even when it seems like everything is falling apart, God is still there.

At the beginning of a leading, everything feels easy and rightly ordered.  I am afraid, of course, because I am taking on something new, but I also have a deep sense of joy.  As I go on and follow that leading, things become harder.  I find myself feeling worn down, or in conflict with people I care about, or simply questioning whether I heard correctly.  I start to calculate the costs of setting out on the journey and think that it would have been easier just to stay home.

I have also found that following leadings tend to bring up my deep stuff―the things I need to work through.  In fact, this is one of the signals for me that I am on the right track.  When I find myself struggling with old issues, I know there is something for me to learn from the situation and that my perspective is valuable in some way that I can’t quite see.

Fortunately, I don’t have to go it alone.  I have a massive “spiritual pit crew” for this journey including my spiritual director, an anchoring committee, elders, peers in ministry, and many friends who are willing to provide a listening ear or a timely prayer.  It is also a blessing for me to be able to accompany others in this way, whether it is through an ongoing spiritual friendship or a spontaneous phone call from a different time zone.

When I get to the end of a leading, it never looks quite the way I expected.  The fantastic visions I had when I first felt led have been replaced with a more solid reality, but one that feels earned and better than what I imagined because it is real.  I am grateful for the things that I have learned along the way, even the hard things, and for the relationships that have deepened.  I can see how God was with me through it all.  Most of all, I am tired and ready for a rest―happy to lay down this particular thing for a while and take a break before the next journey.

Tearing Down, Building Up

The word of the Lord came to me, saying,

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
    before you were born I set you apart;
    I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

“Alas, Sovereign Lord,” I said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.”

But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you.  Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.

Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, “I have put my words in your mouth.  See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”

Jeremiah 1:4-10.

 The first time I preached, it was a surprise for everyone, including me.  

For our fourth School of the Spirit residency in the fall of 2010, the teachers put together a panel from the class to talk about "Being Other in Community."  I felt led to be on the panel, so I wrote a proposal saying that I would like to talk about the prophet as other.

After the teacher told me I would be on the panel, I spent the summer trying to write out my message.  First, I wrote about Elijah in the wilderness, telling God he wanted to die.  Then I wrote about the last chapter of Jonah: Even though Jonah's mission had been wildly successful, the story ends with Jonah being angry with God. 

Although both of those Bible passages spoke to me, the message was not coming together.  That was hard for me, because I had planned to write the message out in advance and submit it as my fall reflection paper.  I was also terrified of getting up in front of my class without knowing what I was going to say.

I spent a lot of time during that fall residency in prayer.  I still did not have the message.  Then, finally, during the hour of worship before the panel was scheduled to speak, I knew what I had to do.  It became clear that all I needed was Jeremiah 1:4-10, and that I would be preaching from that passage.

So I did.  I spoke about God calling Jeremiah to be a prophet and my own struggles with others naming the gift of prophecy in me.  I said that it was hard in part because I am young, but also because I am a woman.  I shared how challenging it is for me when I feel led to give messages that tear down and destroy, because I always want to build and to plant.

As I spoke, I knew I was preaching, and it felt right.  Afterward, I was glad that I didn't know in advance, hard as it was, because I only would have doubted myself and my abilities.  And that experience gave me confidence later when I felt led to preach again in programmed worship.

Now, three years later, I am beginning seminary at Candler School of Theology.  When I saw that the theme for orientation was "Tearing Down and Building Up," I laughed.  I knew immediately that it was a reference to the first chapter of Jeremiah.

Like the School of the Spirit, I know that seminary will be a distilling process for me.  In addition to what I will learn about the Bible and Christian history, I will also be learning about myself and what God is calling me to do.  I know that it will be challenging, and there will be days where I doubt myself and God, and wonder why I am here.

But I am also grateful for signs—like this orientation theme—reassuring me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Personal Statement

[This is the personal statement I wrote as part of my application for Candler School of Theology.]

"See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."  Isaiah 43:19.

My name is Ashley Wilcox, and I am a Quaker minister, a lawyer, a writer, and a beloved child of God.  I am a gospel minister in the prophetic, Friends tradition; my message is, “Turn toward God, in whatever language you use for God.”  For the past few years, I have carried a concern for supporting ministers in the Religious Society of Friends.  I am now feeling called to seminary, which I believe will give me some of the tools I need to support those ministers.

Friends believe that all are ministers and God can speak through anyone.  We also believe that some are called to sustained, public ministry.  I first felt that call to ministry in the spring of 2008, at the Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology Conference.  The purpose of the women’s conference is to bring evangelical and liberal Friends together to try to discover the best of our tradition through the use of narrative theology―telling the story of how God is at work in our lives.  Over the four days of the conference, I felt like God was holding up parts of my life that I had been unwilling to face, and asking me to deal with them.  I felt broken open and very tender.

By the end of the weekend, I had agreed to be co-clerk of the planning committee for the next conference.  I was exhausted and ready to go home when we entered into our final open worship.  Then, out of the silence, God spoke to me.  God said, “It’s not always going to be this easy.”

I said, “What?”  Of all the words I could think of to describe my experience at the conference, “easy” was not one of them.

God responded, “Yes, this is the easy part.  It is going to be a lot harder after this.  But I will be there too.”*

At the time, I felt shattered and overwhelmed.  But those words and the deep sense of calling I felt have gotten me through some very difficult times, and I am grateful for the sense I have of God’s presence with me.

Within a few months of the women’s conference I began to do traveling ministry.  I traveled to Friends meetings and churches to worship with them and share about the women’s conference.  I was not raised in the Religious Society of Friends―I became a “convinced Friend” while I was in law school―but I found that my childhood in the evangelical church was a great benefit in my ministry.  As a child, I had grieved that I could not speak in tongues like my classmates in our charismatic Sunday school, but I suddenly found that I could: even though I was a member of a liberal, unprogrammed Friends meeting, I knew the songs and language in the evangelical, programmed Friends churches.  I could act as a bridge between the two, and feel like I was part of both.

Since graduating from law school, I have worked as a judicial clerk for two state courts of appeals, in Washington and Oregon.  I spend most of my time as a clerk researching and writing judicial opinions.  I have enjoyed many things about clerking: it is good work and my colleagues are wonderful.  I have had opportunities to improve my writing, editing, and research skills.  One of the best things about working at the courts has been the 40-hour workweek, which is very rare in the legal profession!

While working for the courts, I have been able to do traveling ministry, participate in the School of the Spirit Ministry’s program On Being a Spiritual Nurturer, organize retreats and conferences, serve on committees, give talks, write articles, and serve as clerk of my meeting, Freedom Friends Church.  I am grateful for the flexibility and support I have received from my bosses and coworkers over the past several years.  Now, however, I feel that God is calling me to transition away from full-time legal work.

Applying to seminary right now feels a little like stepping off the boat.  As I said, I feel called to support ministers in the Religious Society of Friends, but that is not a job that currently exists.  There are a number of things happening right now though that give me the sense that there are big changes coming for Friends and Christianity as a whole, and I want to be in the best position I can be to nurture these changes.

First, a large number of women across denominations are being called into ministry.  This is a relatively new phenomenon in the church in general, but Friends have had women ministers for over 350 years, and I believe that Friends offer a unique perspective on women in ministry.  Second, an unprecedented number of Friends are being called to seminary.  It is not clear yet why God is calling so many to formal theological education―there currently are not enough positions for them―but I believe that there is a reason that Friends (and young Friends in particular) are being equipped for ministry in this way.  Third, there is a generational shift beginning in the Religious Society of Friends.  Until recently, the leadership was mostly comprised of people who came of age during the social activism of the Civil Rights movement and the Vietnam War.  Many of them were drawn to Friends because of the social causes Friends supported.  The rising generation of leaders may also be involved in social justice issues but, at its core, this generation is calling Friends to faithfulness.  Young Friends are seeking renewal, asking all of us to listen deeply to what the Spirit is calling us to do, individually and as a community.

A degree is not necessary to be a minister among Friends.  On the contrary, if all goes according to plan, I will most likely have finished the recording process (the Quaker version of ordination) and be a recorded (ordained) minister before starting seminary.  However, I believe that a Master of Divinity will give me useful tools for sustained public ministry.  I tend to give ministry everything I have, and I hope that seminary will help me develop better boundaries and self-care in doing ministry.  I am also interested in learning systematic theology, to give me perspective on the biases I unconsciously bring to texts and ministry.  I know that I have much to learn from the faculty and from my peers in the context of seminary, and I am eager to make connections with others who are called to ministry.

I am applying to Candler School of Theology because it seems like the best place for me to hone my skills in leadership and ministry.  I am impressed by how Candler explicitly supports denominational leadership, which is something that I would like to bring back to the Religious Society of Friends.  I look forward to the opportunity to spend two years doing contextual education, and I am particularly interested in the possibility of serving in a women’s prison during my first year of seminary.  I am also drawn to Candler because of its programs to support women in ministry; I am interested in exploring the certificate in Women, Theology, and Ministry.  It is clear that Candler is a place where people not only study theology, but worship together, practice their faith, and put that faith into action in the world.  I want to be a part of that kind of community.

Thank you for your time and consideration.


* I shared this story in the message I gave at the 2012 Pacific Northwest Quaker Women's Theology Conference, which was published in the July/August 2012 issue of Western Friend as Inviting Grace: Letters and Lessons from the Apostle Paul.

Easter Message

[This is the message I gave during fifth-Sunday programmed worship at Freedom Friends Church yesterday.  In our programmed worship services, we have talked about some of the different ways of reading the Bible.  This worship was in the style of lectio divina: we read the scripture aloud three times―twice before the message and once after, followed by a time of open worship.  The worship began and ended with beautiful music by Seth Martin.  I highly recommend his new CD and, in particular, the song Fireweed Mountain, which he played at the end of open worship.] 

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.  They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them.  In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’” Then they remembered his words.

When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others.  It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles.  But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense. 

Luke 24:1-11 (NIV).

As many of you know, I have a godson named Simon who is five.  Last year, something sad happened to Simon.  Simon would like to have a dog, but he can't because his mom is allergic. He got really attached to his aunt and uncle's dog, who was very elderly.  Last year, that dog passed away.  Simon was sad and had a lot of questions about death.  

One day, Simon went to his dad.  He was really excited.  He said, "Dad, I have a great idea!  Why don't we pray to Jesus to raise Max from the dead?"  And Simon's dad had to explain to him that, although we believe that Jesus could raise Max from the dead, he probably wouldn't.

And that is what usually happens when people die: we don't see them again.  

In the scripture we read today, Jesus has died and no one knows what is going to happen.  The women follow their tradition; this is what they do when someone dies, they prepare the spices and go to take care of the body.

This is one of the stories that we tell over and over.  We tell it every year around this time, and other times of the year as well.  I think one of the reasons that we tell this story so often is because it has to do with death, something we all experience.  We are all going to die, and we will all have people that we love die.

So I am going to tell the story of the first time I experienced death.  This happened when I was 19.  It was not the first time that someone I knew died, but it was the first time death really touched me.

In my family's neighborhood, there were two families with three children.  One had three sons and the other had three daughters.  The kids were about the same ages as the kids in my family, and our families were close.

One Sunday, very early in the morning, my mom woke me up to tell me that there had been a car accident.  The middle son had been in a car that was hit by a bus, and it looked like he was not going to make it.  He didn't.  It was devastating for my family.

Then, less than a week later, we got a phone call, saying that there had been another car accident.  Two of the daughters in the other family had been in the car, and the oldest daughter was killed in the accident.

I think there is a special kind of grief when young people die unexpectedly.  No one knew what to do.  Our church's youth pastor came to my family's house to talk to us, but I don't remember what he said.  I didn't want to hear about God.  I was too angry.

What I do remember from that time is my mom.  Every day for two weeks, she made muffins for the families.  She would wrap the muffins up in a basket and leave them on the doorstep for the families.  During that time, I would wake up in the mornings and watch my mom make muffins, and that is where I saw God.

At North Seattle Friends Church, they have a practice on Sundays of sharing what they call "God stories"―stories of how they see God at work in their lives.  This is one of those stories.

In this Bible story, when the women come to the tomb, they find the stone rolled away and encounter two men who look like light.  These men say to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"

I always used to read that as the men chastising the women, but now I read it as true.  We find the living among the dead.  God is especially present in times of death.

These men who look like light say to the women, "He is not here; he has risen!  Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 'The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.'"  

Jesus had said those things to the women, but when he said them, they didn't understand.  It seemed like nonsense to them.  But when the women heard them again, they understood.  

These women―Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others―went back to tell the Eleven and the others what they had seen and heard, but those men did not believe them because they had not experienced it yet.  To them, it seemed like nonsense.

My message this morning is this:  Tell the stories of how God is present in your life, however you see God in your life.  Even if, to others, it seems like nonsense. 

Workshop

Convergent Friends: Worship and Conversation 

FGC Gathering, June 30 - July 6, 2013

 University of Northern Colorado, Greeley, CO

2013 Theme: At the Growing Edges of our Faith

Workshop Number: 9 
Who may register?: Open to All (adult & high school) 
Worship/Worship-Sharing: 40% 
Lecture: 5% 
Discussion: 25% 
Experiential Activities: 30% 

“Convergent Friends” describes a movement of Quakers coming together across the branches of Friends to discover the best of our tradition. We will explore different kinds of worship and share how God is at work in our lives. Come prepared to be changed by the Spirit present among us. 

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19. 

Where is the life in the Religious Society of Friends? How does truth prosper among us? How can we engage one another across our differences? Each day, we will engage in different kinds of worship, including semi-programmed worship with singing and vocal prayer, extended open worship, and worship-sharing. We will spend time sharing the names we use to describe the Divine, and why those words are meaningful for us. We will also share stories about our experiences encountering different kinds of Friends, and how we saw the Spirit through them. One day, we will focus on different kinds of prayer, and walk through an interactive Stations of the Lord’s Prayer together. We will also explore Bible reading in the Conservative Friends tradition. Be ready to speak from your own experience and listen deeply. There will be time for sharing in small groups, art, music, and laughter. 

Everyone is welcome. 

Please Bring: 
A Bible (any translation) 
Any art supplies you would like to share 

Required Reading: 
Acts 2 
Eight Questions on Convergent Friends: An Interview with Robin Mohr 

Recommended Reading: 
A Testament of Devotion, by Thomas R. Kelly 
Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, by Anne Lamott 
Essays on the Quaker Vision of Gospel Order, by Lloyd Lee Wilson 

About the leaders: 
Ashley W is a member of Freedom Friends Church in Salem, Oregon and a graduate of the School of the Spirit Ministry's program On Being a Spiritual Nurturer, class of 2011. Ashley served as clerk of Freedom Friends in 2011-12 and was co-clerk of the planning committee for the 2010 Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology Conference. She first developed parts of this workshop while traveling with other ministers to visit meetings, churches, and yearly meetings in the Pacific Northwest. She then presented it as a three-day thread group at the Sixth World Conference of Friends in Kenya. Ashley has traveled in the ministry as a minister and an elder and carries a concern for supporting ministers in the Religious Society of Friends. Her writing has been published in Western Friend, Friends Journal, various Quaker anthologies, and on her blog, www.questforadequacy.blogspot.com. 

Aimee M will be serving as an elder for Ashley during the workshop. Aimee grew up in Oregon attending Quaker churches in Northwest Yearly Meeting. She moved to Washington state, met her husband-to-be at FGC in Tacoma, and then moved to Minnesota where she attends two different Northern Yearly Meeting meetings. She has been involved with Friends World Committee for Consultation (FWCC) for several years and was thrilled to attend the recent World Conference in Kenya, where she served on the Pastoral Care committee.

Click here to see the workshop description on the FGC website.
Registration opens on April 3.

Just a Psalm

When I was little, my dad would read a chapter of the Bible to me and my sister every night before we went to bed.  Usually, we would read through one of the gospels or the stories from the Old Testament, but if we were late getting to bed, dad would tease us and say there wasn't enough time.  We would beg him to read to us, and he would relent, saying, "Maybe just a Psalm."  It became something that my sister and I would say jokingly, when we were up too late―just a Psalm.

Thinking about that makes me laugh now.  I still read the Bible before I go to bed, and I probably read the Psalms more than any other book.  There is so much to them!  The imagery is amazing, and I love how the writers reflect all of the emotions they are feeling: giving thanks, praising God, feeling abandoned, alone, or in despair―sometimes all in the same Psalm!

I also love how familiar the Psalms are, not just because I read them so often, but because I learned so many of them set to music in my childhood.  I will be reading along, then come to a phrase or even a whole chapter that brings back a melody and a time and place I had forgotten.

I memorized a lot of Bible verses as a child, but the first entire chapter I learned by heart was Psalm 100.  My travel Bible says that it is a psalm for giving thanks, which seems like a good place to start.  [Note: I generally try to use nongendered language for God, but because I learned this Psalm with male pronouns, I am leaving it that way here.]

Psalm 100

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

Serve the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful song.

Know that the Lord is God.  It is he who made us, and we are his; 

we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; 

give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Deep Worship

"Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me."  Psalm 42:7.

I have had several conversations recently with Friends who are longing for deep worship.  In my experience, deep worship is a rare and powerful thing, impossible to fake. It is a gift from God, which can be nurtured by Friends who live deeply in the Spirit, but is not something you can manufacture.

Many Friends say that they want deep worship, but we are not always good at saying what that means.  For me, it is a corporate experience of the presence of the living God―a time of worship that is so drenched in the Spirit that everyone can feel it and we are all changed by the experience.  

I have most often experienced deep worship in silence, but unprogrammed Friends do not have the monopoly on it.  Sometimes the singing, prayer, and prepared messages in semi-programmed or programmed meetings for worship bring all of our hearts together so that we can better listen to the voice of God out of the silence.

Expecting to have deep worship every week at meeting may lead to disappointment, but we can always hope for it.  Here are a few of the things I have learned that can encourage deeper worship:

• Keeping a daily spiritual practice.  There are many spiritual practices and it is important to find the right one for you―one that you can do on a regular basis.  Spiritual practices keep the embers of worship alive throughout the week.

• Worshiping regularly with others who are seeking the same depth of worship.  In the School of the Spirit residencies, we spent an hour each morning in worship together.  On the first day, the worship was good, but could be a little superficial.  By the fourth or fifth day, the worship was deep and rich.

• Coming to worship with the expectation that you will hear from God.  In our meetings, God speaks through us, directly and through the vocal ministry of other Friends.  We must prepare for that possibility each time we gather together and know that we may be changed by it.

When have you experienced deep worship?  What have you learned about how to encourage and prepare for it?

Another Way (LGBT)

"And, having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they went home another way."  Matthew 2:12.

The World Conference of Friends took place at Kabarak University, which is a 4-5 hour bus ride from Nairobi.  On the bus ride there, I admit that was tired and over-stimulated, so I put my headphones on and slept for most of the trip.  Fortunately, the person sitting next to me woke me up to see some of the sights, including the Rift Valley and a chapel built by Italians during the second world war.

On the way back to Nairobi after the conference, the driver went a different way, and we got to see several things we had not passed by on the drive in, including a tea plantation and various parts of Nairobi.

Since getting home from the conference, I have spent a lot of time walking.  I don't have the energy to run as much as usual, so I have been walking in the evenings in addition to on my lunch break.  Salem is gorgeous this time of year―everything is in bloom.  I keep meaning to take my camera along with me.

One evening when I was walking in my neighborhood, I felt a nudge to take a different path than I usually do.  I am a creature of habit and tend to stick to the same routes, but I felt like God was telling me to go a slightly different way.  

But then I saw that I would have to pass by a bunch of teenage girls if I took the other path, so I ignored the nudge and continued on my way.  The nudge stayed with me though, so on my way back, I gave in and went on the other path.  Then I saw it: a beautiful, flowering purple tree―one of my favorites―that would have been directly visible from the other path.

It often takes something big, scary, or life-threatening to make us choose to go a different way, but I believe that sometimes God wants us to change just to show us something beautiful.

About 15 months ago, I (fairly quietly) came out as bisexual.  Responses were supportive, skeptical, and chagrined (or some combination).  I am grateful for the people who supported me; it hurt when people I loved told me that I had strayed from God's path.  The skepticism was understandable: I had always identified as straight, sometimes quite adamantly.

[SIDE NOTE: In my defense, when I wrote way back in 2008 that I was "as straight as humanly possible," that was intended as an inside joke for my friend Andrea, because it is something she used to say about me in college.  I knew that she would read the post and she knew that I was attracted to women.  I had no idea at that point that my blog would last so long or that it would reach such a wide audience!]

Since coming out, I have (also fairly quietly) been on a lot of dates with both women and men, which has been pretty fun.  I am still single, but I think that has more to do with the fact that I still have things to learn from being single than my orientation.  I am loved by many and I have lots of relationships that are important to me.  I know that I would not have the same energy to put into those relationships if I were focused on a primary partner.

As I mentioned in my report, there was some controversy at the World Conference when the the epistle by Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns was taken down.  The first time I heard about it was when it was raised in early worship.  My immediate impulse was to leave the room, because I didn't want to deal with other people's emotions around the topic, but I knew that walking out could be misconstrued.  Instead, I sat down on the floor for the rest of worship, trying to stay grounded.

Although the issues came up throughout the day, Friends mostly addressed them in their home groups, which I missed.  But that night, as I was waiting in line for dinner, a Friend asked me if I had a good Bible verse to respond to the passages saying that homosexuality is a sin.

When people ask me this question, my immediate response is no:  Proof-texting doesn't work.  For anyone.  Pulling out another Bible verse to respond to attacks is never going to change anyone's position.

After giving it a little more thought, I said that I only had one verse:

"By their fruits you will know them."  Matthew 7:20.

This is not original to me, but I am not sure where I got it (possibly Liz O?).  The point is that it is only by waiting to see what kind of fruit these relationships bear that we will know whether they are good or not.  The Bible also tells us that

"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.  Against such there is no law."  Galatians 5:22-23.

It takes a while, but relationships do bear fruit.  And we can be changed by them; I know this experientially.

• It is because I had friends in high school who were out as gay and lesbian that I came to believe that their love was not a sin.

• It is because I have worshiped and worked with transgender people that I understand a little better the struggles that they face.

• It is because I had brave examples of how to live faithfully as a bisexual that I was able to be honest about my own sexuality.

But this is not a one-way street.

• It is also because I have relationships with people who honestly believe that homosexuality is a sin that I know those people are doing their best to live Godly lives.

We can change.  I have seen it.  It takes relationships and love and time.  

And then, suddenly, you see people who formerly voted for an exclusive definition of marriage at Williams-Sonoma, buying something off the registry for their friend's daughter's lesbian wedding.  Not because they have changed what they believe, but because they love their friend and her daughter, and they want to celebrate with them.

Maintaining a position is easy; relationships are hard.  But that is the work.  And I have faith that we can all go home another way.

Prophecy

"Do not quench the Spirit.  Do not treat prophecies with contempt, but test them all and hold on to what is good . . ."  I Thessalonians 5:19-21.

One of my spiritual gifts is prophecy. 

I have said that sentence so many times, I forget sometimes that it might sound strange to others.  Regardless, it is true.  I have had that gift affirmed by Friends many times, in earnest and teasingly (friends who know me well like to say things like, “And then Ashley said, in her prophetic way . . .” or “How did you know that I needed that?  You must be a prophet!”).

Of course, when I say it for the first time to someone new, that inevitably leads to a discussion of what prophecy means.  My personal definition of prophesying is:  Telling the truth, all the time.  Thomas Merton has a much fancier definition:

To prophesy is not to predict, but to seize upon reality in its moment of highest expectation and tension toward the new.  This tension is discovered not in hypnotic elation, but in the light of everyday experience.

(Borrowed from Jan Hoffman and Kenneth Sutton’s piece in Walk Worthy of Your Calling, p. 153.)

Merton's definition also works for me―I tend to see things both as they are and as they might be, which can be quite painful at times.  Perhaps a more palatable way to say it is that I am intuitive and empathetic, with a gift for speaking to the present moment.

One thing I have learned is that prophets are mirrors, not problem-solvers.  The prophet's job is to deliver the message; it is up to the people listening to decide what to do with it.  In practical terms, that means I usually don't have answers when people ask me, "What are you going to do to fix this problem you have named?"

I am not alone.

Far from it.  There are many others like me―what an older Friend recently referred to as my "litter."  Young adult Friends with strong, prophetic voices, doing powerful ministry in spite of the odds.

We recognize each other, sometimes without ever having met.  The forms of our ministry vary, but we see the same call in each other.  We stay in touch over long distances, through email and social media.  When there are opportunities for us to meet in person, either individually or in groups, the energy is amazing.  But those opportunities are often few and far between.

There is a high level of burnout in this group, for a variety of reasons.  The work is hard.  Although a few of us have found ways to support themselves through ministry, most have other jobs in addition to doing this work.  Some of us have spiritual support from our meetings, others do not.  We feel the pressure of representing our generation, that there is little room for error. 

And sometimes it feels like we are yelling but no one has ears to hear . . . or they listen only long enough to shut us down.

After burning out, some leave Friends altogether.  But others of us stay, because this is our home.

 I recently had the opportunity to gather with some of these ministers at the World Conference of Friends.  I have connected with others since returning home.  My interactions with these Friends were enlivening and challenging, and gave me fresh energy for the work ahead.  

I know that we can't stay at these gatherings forever, that our work is also to go back out in the world.  But it also feels wrong for us to go back to our individual struggles to make ends meet, each of us trying to figure out how to do this ministry on our own.

I am left with the question:  What would the Religious Society of Friends look like if this rising group of ministers had the support, nurture, and accountability to thrive?

Little Children

And Jesus said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 18:3

I never liked the verse where Jesus tells his disciples to become like children much.  It was a verse that I heard a lot growing up, and it always seemed to be one of those verses that people quoted to put others in their place.  Or one that inspired people to write creepy "Jesus is my daddy" contemporary worship songs.

But then, at one of the School of the Spirit residencies, my friend Judy G gave a message during worship that changed how I felt about the verse entirely.  

Judy said that she was at her meeting one Sunday when a young girl, maybe four or five years old, came in with her parents.  The girl was wearing a lovely dress and seemed quite proud of it.  

A Friend approached the girl and said, "You look so pretty in that dress today!"  

She responded, "I know!"

That is how little children are.  They haven't yet learned what adults have―to respond with false humility or with very real self-loathing.  They are joyful in their beauty.

With that in mind, I think Jesus was right to say what he did.  Be like those children.  Know that you were made in the image of God.  You are beautiful to God.  And the love of God that comes through you makes you beautiful to others as well.

Setting Captives Free

"The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
   because the LORD has anointed me
   to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
   to proclaim freedom for the captives
   and release from darkness for the prisoners."

Isaiah 61:1

I have an occasional ministry of liberating moths.

In general, when insects get into my house, I do my best to escort them outside.  Freeing moths is different, though.  I have set moths free on two occasions (so far).

The first time was a few years ago.  When I lived in Seattle, I worked on the 26th floor of one of the very tall buildings downtown.  Each day, I would take a very fast elevator up to the 26th floor, walk through the lobby, and use my key card to let myself in to where I worked.  We had a lovely view of the Puget Sound from that height but, of course, none of the windows opened.

One day, I walked out of the elevator into the lobby and saw a moth flying around.  Oh, no!  I thought.  There was no way that it would be able to survive in that sterile environment.  So I pushed the elevator button and got back on.  The moth got on with me.  We rode down to the ground floor, where the door opened, and the moth flew out.  I rode the elevator back up alone, feeling like a hero.

The second time was just last fall.  I was taking the train up to Portland to visit some friends and I realized just before I got to the station that I had forgotten my water bottle at home.  It was a warm day and I was thirsty after walking to the train station, so I decided to buy a bottle of water from the vending machine.  

I was kicking myself for forgetting my water bottle―I was annoyed at having to spend money on a bottle of water and I always feel guilty about using plastic bottles―but I bought it anyway.  As my bottle of water thumped to the bottom of the machine, a moth flew flew out.  Who knows how long it had been trapped in there, but my spontaneous purchase set it free.

Sometimes, setting captives free feels like being Moses―leading those who are trapped out of bondage and into freedom.  Other times, it can feel like a mistake, like forgetting to bring a water bottle.