Wednesday, August 11, 2010 by Jay T.

My wife’s mother died early this year.  She was a collector who lived just up the street  from us for almost twenty years.  The last seven months of our lives has been about stuff.  Lots of hers and some of ours.  We’ve carried truck loads of it to the recycle depot, the thrift store and the Habitat for Humanity ReStore–a shop for used building materials.  We’ve given away bunches to neighbors.  Corvallis Antiques sold lots of it before and during an estate sale.

Our floors are being refinished.  We painted the ceiling and walls first.  The living room, dining room and hallway were stripped of furniture, curtains, wall art and baseboards.  It not only stinks in that center part of the house, it echoes.  The floors are curing and giving off gas now.  We can walk through those rooms, but it gives me a headache to remain.  So I’m turned out of our house.

Time for an adventure.

For the first time since college sophomore year, I went camping on my bicycle without support.  I hauled all my own camping and cooking gear.  It worked.  I didn’t take much.  It was only an overnight turnaround to Armitage Park.  About 37 miles there.  I returned on a hilly route–to show myself I could do it, so the return was 60 miles or so.

Armitage Park still has the classic picnic grounds of my childhood–even if they’ve built a freeway bridge over the top of one end of it.  It now has a campground, which I knew about, but hadn’t seen.  It was filled with large recreational vehicles–some of them towed by semi-truck tractors.  Several pulled box trailers behind them, from which classic cars would emerge.  With a bicycle, cargo trailer and seven foot diameter tent, I felt out of place.  I didn’t have the amenities the campground expected me to be carrying.  No electrical plug.  Nothing to hook up to the sewer connection.  No shower.  Nothing to provide myself any shade on a very hot day.  But I did have a stove.  I could easily carry my book to the shade of a tree to cool off while reading.  The McKenzie River flows right by the park, with some pools to soak in.

Grace always comes to my meals, but whenever I observe her, she’s a few moments late.  So I wait expectantly, thankful for her arrival and the opportunity to remember her.  I was waiting for her before dinner at Armitage–freeze dried chili mac and fresh cucumber.  Once again, it was opened to me how this is enough.  All that I had was all that I needed right then.  Water, simple meal, warmth, simple surroundings.

For the trip, I had packed as little as I thought I could manage.  I had enough.  Amazingly, I used each piece that I packed, except the extra matches, the rain fly for the tent and the cycle repair stuff–all the items I bring but hope not to use.  I hadn’t expected to use my warm hat, overshirt and water resistant warmup jacket.  After a brisk float down the McKenzie yesterday morning, I needed them.

It was enough.  Enough to remember how little I need.

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Sunday, February 28, 2010 by Jay T.

 Dear John

In your accounts of 1760, I’m reading:

Being two days in going to Nantucket, and having been there once before, I observed many shoals in their bay, which make sailing more dangerous, especially in stormy nights; also, that a great shoal, which encloses their harbor, prevents the entrance of sloops except when the tide is up. Waiting without for the rising of the tide is sometimes hazardous in storms, and by waiting within they sometimes miss a fair wind. I took notice that there was on that small island a great number of inhabitants, and the soil not very fertile, the timber being so gone that for vessels, fences, and firewood, they depend chiefly on buying from the Main, for the cost whereof, with most of their other expenses, they depend principally upon the whale fishery. I considered that as towns grew larger, and lands near navigable waters were more cleared, it would require more labor to get timber and wood. I understood that the whales, being much hunted and sometimes wounded and not killed, grow more shy and difficult to come at.

I considered that the formation of the earth, the seas, the islands, bays, and rivers, the motions of the winds, and great waters, which cause bars and shoals in particular places, were all the works of Him who is perfect wisdom and goodness; and as people attend to his heavenly instruction, and put their trust in him, he provides for them in all parts where he gives them a being;

and as in this visit to these people I felt a strong desire for their firm establishment on the sure foundation, besides what was said more publicly, I was concerned to speak with the women Friends in their Monthly Meeting of business, many being present, and in the fresh spring of pure love to open before them the advantage, both inwardly and outwardly, of attending singly to the pure guidance of the Holy Spirit, and therein to educate their children in true humility and the disuse of all superfluities. I reminded them of the difficulties their husbands and sons were frequently exposed to at sea, and that the more plain and simple their way of living was the less need there would be of running great hazards to support them. I also encouraged the young women to continue their neat, decent way of attending themselves on the affairs of the house; showing, as the way opened, that where people were truly humble, used themselves to business, and were content with a plain way of life, they had ever had more true peace and calmness of mind than they who, aspiring to greatness and outward show, have grasped hard for an income to support themselves therein. And as I observed they had so few or no slaves, I had to encourage them to be content without them, making mention of the numerous troubles and vexations which frequently attended the minds of the people who depend on slaves to do their labor.

Journal of John Woolman

I’m trying to figure out what you’re getting at.   I first notice the themes of how hard life on an island is and how much the Nantucketers must stretch God’s resources to provide for themselves.  Then I read your reminder to women to keep low and avoid vanities so as not to lead to the greediness that engenders risk on the sea and the keeping of slaves.

With my early 21st century filters, am I reading too much concern for the creation into your writing?  Is your concern more for the souls of the Nantucket women, for the slaves they might keep or for the supplies of timber and firewood?  Or is it for all of these–the web of relationships between the greed of people, the health of our souls and the demands we can put on others and the creation?

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Sunday, February 7, 2010 by Jay T.

For at least a half hour of this morning’s worship, I wasn’t fully comfortable.  I had volunteered to oversee the meeting for worship and had arrived barely before the appointed time.  I’d not had time to open the overhead window its usual crack, or to turn on the ceiling fan.  The lack of air circulation put me to sleep for a while.  My throat was dry, as I’d left my water bottle outside fastened to my bicycle.  I was not in a sufficiently spiritual state.  I was tired from working hard and with too much adrenaline at quarterly meeting yesterday.

Close to the end of meeting, the Lord inwardly admonished me not to fret.  I was sufficient for God to address.  My throat, the atmosphere, my energy were all enough for God to reach through to find me.

This reassuring message of sufficiency and competence is the message of gratitude.  As I begin to pray, it helps to be thankful and acknowledge the blessings of life that surround me.

This is also the message of forgiveness.  No matter the evils I’ve suffered through or the way people have abused me, if I can let them go, I can encounter One who lives beyond all those slights, injuries and insufficiencies.

This morning I was informed that clearly:
∙    I am enough,
∙    My meeting is enough,
∙    The place is suitable, and
∙    Simple silence is all that is needed  –  to hear the voice of God.

Posted in Prayer, Keeping low, Journal | 1 Comment »

Sunday, January 10, 2010 by Jay T.

Last spring, two groups in my meeting began some conversations with each other and with John Woolman.  After reading a chapter and responding to it in our journals, Friends would meet periodically to discuss what we’d read, how we’d reacted and how we can change our lives to be more congruous with Quaker testimonies.  There’s some more info about it in an earlier post.

The other two Friends in my small group moved away last summer.  The second group is starting to meet again and I’m joining it.  We’re reading Chapter IV.

If John Woolman reads this, I hope he’ll respond.  If you’d like to answer for him, or respond out of your own experience, please do.

John:

Thanks for providing us a sense of the strong concern you felt for Negroes in your time.  I am even more grateful for the timeless wisdom I see in this passage:

It appeared to me that through the prevailing of the spirit of this world the minds of many were brought to an inward desolation, and instead of the spirit of meekness, gentleness, and heavenly wisdom, which are the necessary companions of the true sheep of Christ, a spirit of fierceness and the love of dominion too generally prevailed. From small beginnings in error great buildings by degrees are raised, and from one age to another are more and more strengthened by the general concurrence of the people; and as men obtain reputation by their profession of the truth, their virtues are mentioned as arguments in favor of general error; and those of less note, to justify themselves, say, such and such good men did the like.

I know in my own life how, “from small beginnings in error great buildings by degrees are raised.”  I do many mistaken things out of custom.  Even easier to see are the confounded errors of the big organizations many of us work for or support.  Why do schools give letter grades?  Why do we pretend that repeatedly testing children will insure that they learn?  What good is it to put a monthly query in the meeting’s newsletter, but never mention it outside of that?

Despite the depth of your caring about the issue of slave trade, when the yearly meeting in Virginia temporized in adopting a query against it, you were able to first draw the compromise to their attention, and later say:

As some of their members have heretofore traded in negroes, as in other merchandise, this query being admitted will be one step further than they have hitherto gone, and I did not see it my duty to press for an alteration, but felt easy to leave it all to Him who alone is able to turn the hearts of the mighty, and make way for the spreading of truth on the earth, by means agreeable to his infinite wisdom.

May your persistent, patient example be helpful to all of us who work for change, within churches or the government.

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Friday, December 18, 2009 by Jay T.

My devotionals in November and early December typically include some prophets, along with the story of John the Baptist’s family and conception.  A few days ago, through a cross reference, I found the book of Hosea.

Hosea uses strong images of Yahweh’s seduction and marriage with His people.

I shall put an end to all her merrymaking,
her festivals, her New Moons and her Sabbaths
and all her solemn feasts.
I shall make her vines and fig trees derelict
of which she used to say,
‘These are the pay my lovers gave me.’
I shall turn them into a jungle:
wild animals will feed on them.
I mean to make her pay for the feast-days
on which she burnt incense to the Baals,
when she tricked herself out in her earrings and necklaces
to chase after her lovers,
and forget me!
–declares Yahweh.–
But look, I am going to seduce her
and lead her into the desert
and speak to her heart.
There I shall give her back her vineyards,
and make the Vale of Achor a gateway of hope.
There she will respond as when she was young,

as on the day when she came up from Egypt.When that day comes
–declares Yahweh–
you will call me, ‘My husband’,
no more will you call me, ‘My Baal’.

Hosea 2:13–18, New Jerusalem Bible

Today my eyes were especially opened by: 

When that day comes I shall make a treaty for them with the wild animals,
with the birds of heaven and the creeping things of the earth;
I shall break the bow and the sword
and warfare, and banish them from the country,
and I will let them sleep secure.
I shall betroth you to myself for ever,
I shall betroth you in uprightness and justice,
and faithful love and tenderness.
Yes, I shall betroth you to myself in loyalty
and in the knowledge of Yahweh.
When that day comes, I shall respond
–declares Yahweh–
I shall respond to the heavens
and they will respond to the earth
and the earth will respond to the grain, the new wine and oil……….

Hosea 2:20–24, New Jerusalem Bible

Maybe it was the Gregorian Chants I had playing, but no messianic vision has ever struck my chords as well as this one.  It helps me understand how the Messianic yearning included a hope and need for unity with creation.

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Thursday, November 26, 2009 by Jay T.

In late slanting light I saw the Sisters two days ago.  Triune and illuminated, their western aspects excited me enough to ride partway up the ridge on whose shoulder I now stand.  The vision wasn’t repeated that afternoon, but perhaps it is what stirred me this morning as I lay warm, long before this fine red dawn.  Or perhaps it was something greater than just a vision.Something shook me off the couch and out of the age of sail.  Earlier than I’d been thinking to leave, I was ready.  Out the door and into the age of internal combustion, propelling me higher than cranks and gears brought me 38 hours back.  At trail head, the eastern fringe was already red.  Clear there, just as it had been on Tuesday.

Now, the three are silhouetted below a canopy of stratus, with glowing yellows and reds behind them.  My two companions have quieted their games of Chase and Ring Around the Biped in favor of a slow, quiet stalk between my legs by the strong-eyed one.  I’ve come up the steep southern slope, like some long-ago, strong-willed nephew.  Perhaps that has made me pause, winded.  Perhaps it’s the excitement of the vision before me.  Maybe something greater.

I can see the plumes from the fiber plants near home.  Farther on from the paper or can making in Halsey.  Is the one due south from Brand S?  or OS?  No matter.

I think of those plumes as the largest object in view.  Then I remember the mountains.  How does one measure a mountain?  Where, at the bottom, does it stop?  Where at the sides?  Is forgotten Adams the largest in the Cascades?  Surely the cloud canopy is larger still.  But perhaps not an object.  No matter.

As I move along to the top, the dogs resume their running–moving at least as constantly as my mind.  The still, low sun projects shadows above the Sisters on the canopy that now grazes their tops.  As ambient Light grows, snow shows on their flanks.  Triune still, they fade, seeming to diminish a bit.

The dogs keep playing.  Somehow my descent on the gradual path takes longer than the steep way up.  Ever a sucker for a red-haired half Celt, I allow the strong-eyed one more freedom and more treats than she’s earned.

Am I Thankful this morning?  For the plumes that mark employed neighbors?  For the mountains’ shape?  For the canopy under which I walk?  That is more pleasant than walking within it.  For the companions on whose excuse I walk?  Or for the understood connection that lets me appreciate them all?  This is what undergirds us all and gives no bottom line for my restless minds’ demarcation between.

Posted in Physical activity, Keeping low, Journal | 1 Comment »

Friday, May 8, 2009 by Jay T.

This morning I came to see what seminal work the Friends were doing in 1755–1758.  You relate it well in Chapter Five of the Journal.  I notice that you and the editorial committee have brought together many of the entries you made on the scruples of Friends about war–particularly about paying taxes to support it.  Some of these events are taken from events that happened before the close of the previous chapter.

This grouping that has been done has been juxtaposed in my mind with the biography I’m currently reading about John Adams, the Massachusetts representative to the Continental Congress that convened in Philadelphia less than a decade later.  From Adams actions I came to see how they were learning to put the understandings on natural law of John Locke and other thinkers from the century before yours into plans and resolutions about government and its role in the lives of men. Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Conversations with Remarkable Friends, Journal | 2 Comments »

Sunday, April 12, 2009 by Jay T.

Easter morning

I notice John the gospel writer offering four choices for how we can approach the tomb and come to understand the resurrection.

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, ………….. the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed………..Then the disciples returned to their homes.But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, `Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, `They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, `Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, `Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ Jesus said to her, `Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, `Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher).  Jesus said to her, `Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” ‘  Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, `I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

We can stand outside the door, see the stone removed and know there is something worth telling others about.  Mary did this the first time she came to the tomb.

We can hurry to the door, bend down, look in the tomb and see linen, but no body.  The other disciple did this.  He later went in after his friend, saw and believed. Read the rest of this entry »

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Thursday, April 2, 2009 by Jay T.

We passed on to Manoquacy, Fairfax, Hopewell, and Shanando, and had meetings, some of which were comfortable and edifying.

Just some?  I wonder about the others.

“…comfortable and edifying…”  That’s an interesting phrase.  My meeting is doing some threshing and visioning lately.  We’re trying to find out what manner of gathering we want and are led to be.

There’s often a choice laid in front of us between comfort and challenge.  Do we come to a fellowship to be with those we identify with to be comfortable?  Or do we seek a measure of “spiritual dissonance,” so we can be challenged to grow?  What measure of challenge and dissonance?

….we……made a general visit to the meetings of Friends on the western shore of Maryland…….. 

Read the rest of this entry »

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Wednesday, April 1, 2009 by Jay T.

John, the first time I read through the second chapter of your Journal (1743–1748), I didn’t have much reply.  My own state of heart was pretty barren.  On this second time through, I’m finding some reflections in my own life.

I had a great regard for him, and felt a strong inclination, after matters were settled, to speak to him concerning his conduct in that case; but being a youth, and he far advanced in age and experience, my way appeared difficult; after some days’ deliberation, and inward seeking to the Lord for assistance, I was made subject, so that I expressed what lay upon me in a way which became my youth and his years; and though it was a hard task to me it was well taken, and I believe was useful to us both.

That’s an experience I have had, though less and less as I age.  I’ve heard it referred to as “youngering.”  Sometimes, those who have less status or fewer years have a clear role in reminding their elders of the Guide and principles that they profess to live by. Read the rest of this entry »

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