Oh, The Places I'll Go

Earlier this week, I met with my care committee.  As part of my preparation for our meeting, I wrote a list of all of the places I expect to travel between now and the end of July:

• April 17-18: Visit Sandpoint Friends Meeting in Sandpoint, ID to worship with them and talk about the Quaker Women's Theology Conference.
• April 24-25: Visit Freedom Friends Church in Salem, OR.
• May 2:  Visit North Seattle Friends Church in Seattle, WA to worship with them and talk about the Quaker Women's Theology Conference.
• May 13-16: Convergent Friends and New Monastics workshop at Pendle Hill, PA to serve as an elder for Martin Kelley and Wess Daniels as they lead the workshop.
• May 17-18: Visit friends in Washington DC.
• May 19-24: School of the Spirit residency in Durham, NC.
• May 28-31: Young Adult Friends Gathering in Wichita, KS. (I am still trying to discern whether I am led to attend this event.)
• June 16-20: Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology Conference in Seabeck, WA.
• July 14-18: North Pacific Yearly Meeting annual session in Missoula, MT.
• July 25-29: Northwest Yearly Meeting annual session in Newberg, OR.  (I have submitted my application to be the NPYM visitor to NWYM again; I should know whether they chose me by the end of April.)

One of the things I talked about with my care committee when we met was whether I should go to the Young Adult Friends Gathering in Wichita.  I feel that this is an important gathering, but I am wary of spreading myself too thin.  I also do not have a lot of extra money right now, and getting to Kansas from Seattle is pretty expensive.  One person on my care committee suggested that I pray for a "burning bush," such as a plane ticket to Wichita.  So I am continuing to hold this in prayer to see if Way opens.

Looking at this list makes me excited and nervous.  Traveling in the ministry can be wonderful, but it is also spiritually, emotionally, and physically exhausting.   Fortunately, I will be leaving my paid employment at the end of this month, so I will be able to dedicate time and energy to this work over the summer.  But leaving my job also means that I will not have a steady income for the next few months.

I am so grateful for my care committee.  Our meetings each month help keep me grounded and give me energy.  I treasure the time we spend in worship and I appreciate that they are willing to ask me challenging questions and listen when I say hard things.  As I go out, I feel them walking alongside me.

I will continue meeting with my care committee as I travel.  I am also looking for other forms of spiritual and financial support for the next few months.  

If you feel so led, I would appreciate it if you would pray for me.  Pray that I would be rightly led as I travel, that I would be where I am supposed to be, that I would be able to maintain my energy, and that I would be given the right words when I am led to speak.  

If you would like to make a financial contribution to support my ministry, please send me an email: ashleymwilcox AT gmail DOT com.

Thank you for your prayers and support.  I will do my best to continue writing here about the ways God is working in my life, and I look forward to seeing God's work in Friends as I travel this spring and summer.

Mistaken

Today is Palm Sunday, the day that Christians remember how Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey.  As he passed by, people shouted with joy, welcoming him.

Because I am a Quaker, the story of Palm Sunday reminds me of the story of James Nayler, who also rode into town on a donkey.

After that, things did not go well for either of them.  

A week later, the same crowd killed Jesus.  And although the government did not kill Nayler, it came close.  Nayler was branded, tortured, and broken, and his friends deserted him.

Friends tend to tell the story of Nayler as a cautionary tale, that he had delusions of grandeur.  But I think that James Naylor knew that if you walk in the steps of Jesus, you may end up suffering the way he did.

The saddest part of the story for me is how Nayler was abandoned by Friends.  It seems to me that these early Friends acted out of fear in turning their backs on him.  Even if they were convinced that he was mistaken in his leading, he was a part of their community, and doing what he felt led to do.

Sometimes when we follow leadings, others will cheer and welcome us joyfully.  It is more likely, though, that others will be confused or even hostile.  How can we support each other in our leadings when they are difficult or challenging?  How do we hold each other when we make mistakes, as we surely will?

As I venture out in ministry, I want my community to see me when it seems like things are going well.  But I need my community more when I mess up.  I hope that my mistakes will not be as public and humiliating as James Nayler's, but even if they are, I hope that f/Friends will be there to help catch me when I fall.

Traveling Mercies

I recently had the gift of not having paid employment for two months.  This did not always feel like a gift, particularly at 2 a.m. when I worried about money.  But most days I was thrilled at the prospect of being able to choose how to spend my time.  I had time to pray, time to run, and time to do all of my School of the Spirit readings without feeling rushed.

Then I went back to full-time work and now I am struggling to find balance.  Lately, it feels like I work all week, then work all weekend.  This past weekend, I spent 9-4 on Saturday clerking a planning committee meeting for the Quaker Women's Theology Conference.  In the evening, Sarah P and I planned to go to Bellingham.  We had agreed to visit Bellingham Friends Meeting for worship on Sunday morning and then give a second hour presentation.  But after being in the committee meeting all day, we couldn't do it.

Around 6 p.m., we started wondering whether we should call our host and say we were not going to be able to make it that night.  We decided to go to dinner first and I chose a restaurant less than a mile away from my house.  

The drive to the restaurant was terrifying.  It felt like cars were coming at us from every direction.  Considering we could barely make it to a restaurant that is practically in my neighborhood, we decided that the hour and a half drive to Bellingham was not a good idea.  We called our host, apologized, and said that we would be there in the morning.

The next day, we woke up early and drove to Bellingham.  We had a great conversation on the way there and found the Bellingham Friends Meeting right away.  Everywhere we have traveled, Friends have been wonderful hosts.  Bellingham Friends were so welcoming.  During worship, Sarah P gave a message.  Afterward, we led the second hour discussion.  I think it went really well.  Friends shared openly about their experiences of the Spirit and their interactions with others who use different language.  Then we drove back to Seattle and Sarah P drove to Spokane.

The trip was wonderful, but I woke up Monday morning exhausted.  I was having a really hard time facing the prospect of going to work, though I did eventually go.

There are so many things I love about traveling in the ministry.  I love the feeling of being led and of things falling into place.  I love the way that everyone listens to God and each other when we are there.  I love the feeling of being connected to Friends in so many different places.  But traveling all weekend and then working all week is not sustainable for me.

Over the spring and summer, I expect to travel quite a bit and I am trying to figure out how to make ends meet while I travel.  I have heard many stories of how when early Friends traveled in the ministry, other Friends in their meeting would take care of their families and work while they were gone.  I am fortunate to live with two handsome young men who take care of my cats while I travel, but I can't just have someone from the meeting do my job for me.

I do not expect to be paid for ministry, but sometimes it would be nice if I could do ministry and not have to pay for everything else as well.

Called to Be

Since I got back from the last School of the Spirit residency, I have had a strong sense that things are shifting for me. I am having a hard time finding words to describe how I feel, but I will try.

It feels like things are physically changing in my body, or my soul, or maybe both.

One thing that is increasingly clear is that I am called to be a minister. That is terrifying because I don’t know what it means. It feels stronger than being called to ministry, and it is more than the general Quaker idea that we are all ministers. I am afraid that I will screw up, that I will do the wrong thing, that I will not know what I am doing.

I also think that it just means doing what God tells me to do. In some ways, that is comforting, but it is also disconcerting because God and I frequently have different ideas of what I should do.

I did not get any messages to give in meeting between the November and February residencies. It felt like a long time, even though it was just a few months. I noticed my lack of vocal ministry in particular when I visited meetings. For the past year, whenever I have visited meetings, it was more likely than not that I would give vocal ministry. Between November and February, I visited three meetings and didn’t have a thing to say.

Then I gave vocal ministry two weeks in a row, first at the residency and the next week at University Friends Meeting. They were both forms of ministry that I have felt very uncomfortable about in the past: vocal prayer and singing. But they both felt right and good. I also did not experience the days-ahead-of-time dread that I sometimes get when I have to give a message, which was nice. Both messages came very clearly during the meetings, I felt the moment I was supposed to give them, and I did. Even now, I feel okay about them, which is also unusual for me (I tend to second-guess and pick apart vocal ministry a lot, even though I think it’s disrespectful to God).

I had an amazing phone conversation with Noah M last week. I feel like I am still processing a lot of the things we talked about, but one thing in particular felt like a gift. I was saying that I feel comfortable going back and forth between liberal and evangelical Friends because I know the different religious languages, thanks to my childhood in the evangelical church. Noah said that he sees the gift of speaking in tongues as being able to speak different religious languages. I had never thought about that passage that way before and it really resonated with me.

One of the things I feel has been shifting recently is what I feel called to do. The focus I used to have on community doesn’t feel right anymore―it seems like I am called to do something more to do with God. I keep thinking about the message I gave during NPYM annual session last summer, especially this part:

In A Testament of Devotion, Thomas Kelly wrote, “We have mistaken the nature of poverty, and thought it was economic poverty.”

He also said, “The deepest need of men is not food and clothing and shelter, important as they are. It is God.”

Our service is to turn others toward God, in whatever language you use. To turn others toward the Divine, toward the Light, toward Christ, toward Love. That is our service. And I wonder what our lives would look like if we knew it.

I feel like this is my ministry, what I am called to do. In a spiritually impoverished world, God is calling me to turn others toward God, in whatever language. I don’t have any particular idea how to do this, but it feels right.

Sanctuary

In the last School of the Spirit residency, our core teacher Patty walked us through the steps of lectio divina: lectio (reading and listening), meditatio (meditating, ruminating, and pondering), oratio (conscious response) and contemplatio (contemplation, resting in God).  

To get us started, she had volunteers read Psalm 15 and Psalm 130 aloud, in two different translations.  She invited us to listen deeply to the words, thinking around them, to see what arose for us.  The verse that jumped out for me was the beginning of Psalm 15:1,

Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary?

The first word that caught my attention was "sanctuary."  I thought about how a sanctuary is a place of peace and refuge.  The image that came to my mind was of the sanctuary at Plymouth Church, across the street from where I work.  It is a lovely place, filled with light, and the people who work at Plymouth are always willing to open the doors to the sanctuary if I want to go in to pray.

Then I started to think about the word "dwell."  This verse reflects the writer's longing to dwell in God's sanctuary.  The Psalm goes on to list the things a person can do to stay with God, but I find the answer to this question in Psalm 23:6,

I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Things we choose to do may bring us closer to God, but really it is grace that allows us to dwell in the house of the Lord, in God's sanctuary, forever.

Last year, I wrote about going to an Ash Wednesday service at Plymouth Church and feeling led to not put ashes on my forehead.  I did the same thing this year.  I also have not given anything up for Lent.  Despite the lack of outward signs, I have found myself appreciating Lent more this year than I ever have before.

Lent is a time when the church acknowledges how long and dark the winter can be.  There is space in Lent for us to cry out and share our longing for God.  But even when God seems impossibly distant and it feels like we are spending these 40 days in the desert, Lent holds the promise that the Living Christ will come to us again―in Easter, in spring, and in unexpected ways throughout our lives.

Neither Snow nor Rain

As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. 

(Isaiah 55:10-11)

It was as if I appeared at the School of the Spirit residency in the middle of the night.  I went to Pendle Hill a few days before the residency, to spend time with my friend Charley, who is working there, and to try to get on East coast time before going to North Carolina.  Two feet of snow changed my plans a little.  After delayed and canceled flights (and a wonderful late-night ride from the airport), I finally stumbled into my bed in Avila just after 2 a.m.

The next morning, I hurried to breakfast, excited to see the others in my class.  On the way there, I ran into Lisa.  I said, "Good morning!"  She looked a little startled and responded, "We're in silence!"

I was a little disappointed.  I wanted to greet everyone, but instead we would be having a silent breakfast.  At least I would be able to see them.  

I went into breakfast and was overjoyed to see so many familiar faces.  As I got my food, friends noticed that I had arrived and welcomed me with hugs and smiles.  I sat down at the table and started in on my pancakes, to be interrupted as people came up behind me and to give me a hug.  Joy was sitting at the opposite end of the table and offered me her orange juice and when I looked down, I had three glasses of orange juice in front of me!

Later, after we broke the silence, I did get a chance to say hello to everyone and to catch up.  I was amazed, though, at how much love I felt even when no one was saying a word.

Semi-Programmed

A few months ago, a friend from an unprogrammed meeting wrote me an email.  Among other things, he asked about my experiences with semi-programmed worship.  He said,

I sense that it has "life in it" for you, and I would like to know how you experience it in contrast to how you experience unprogrammed worship.

When I visited Freedom Friends Church this past weekend, I remembered our email exchange.  The email I wrote back to him was one of the most thorough descriptions of worship at Freedom Friends I have written, and I thought I'd share  it (with a few minor changes) here.

Dear Friend,

I have been thinking about your question, what has life for me in semi-programed worship. 

At Freedom Friends Church (FFC), our programing is pretty light.  We start by singing 3-4 songs (usually accompanied by Alivia on acoustic guitar, often people will request their favorites), followed by a few minutes of centering silence.  Then the pastor, Peggy, asks Friends to share out of the silence things they are grateful for ("gratitudes").  After everyone who wants to has shared, she closes with vocal prayer, then asks Friends to share places where we need God's help ("petitions").   When that is done, she closes again with vocal prayer, then leads us into about 45 minutes of unprogrammed worship.

All of these pieces are meaningful for me.  I love to sing, and when I came to my unprogrammed meeting in Seattle, that was the part I missed most.  I have tried joining different choirs (including the Seattle Peace Chorus, which has a membership pretty similar to a liberal Friends meeting), but there is something different about singing praise to God with members of my faith community. 

The gratitudes and petitions give us a chance to share our joys and sorrows with God and with the community―we really know what is going on in each other's lives.  I frequently wish there was a place for this kind of sharing in my unprogrammed meeting in Seattle (instead, it sometimes comes out during worship). 

Some of the folks at FFC can be a little twitchy and I think the time for singing and sharing helps us focus and center and makes the waiting worship deeper.  Our pastor stresses that the format of the meeting is a spiritual practice that we can do every day, not just on Sunday morning.  We are also aware that we are all learning together, and there is a tenderness toward each other's messages that I haven't always found in other meetings.

As you can see, I can go on and on about FFC!  Although I have had many Spirit-filled experiences in unprogrammed meetings, FFC is my spiritual home.  I would be happy to talk more about it or answer any questions, either in person or by email.

With love,

Ashley