Family

Every year, the evangelical Friends churches of the northwest come together in a mass of meetings, discussions, meals, and worship services for one week in July.*  Each year that I’m able to go, I get really excited, as in REALLY excited.  It is, in fact, ridiculous. Firstly, I love coming back to my alma mater, which I wasn’t particularly enraptured by when I left with my cap and gown in 2003.  For another, I am always taken by the quaintness of this little town, even though on any other week I would never actually want to live there again.  But I'll take it all, because really, at its heart, it's an annual family reunion, and I can not wait to see the people I dearly love. 

I have not lived in a Quaker community since 2008.  Before that, I had never spent extensive time outside of one.  I went to a Quaker church every Sunday from the time I was a week old.  I didn’t miss a year of camp and even volunteered as an adult.  I participated in Bible quizzing, albeit rather lazily.  I went to a Quaker university and then a Quaker seminary.  Once college started and I lived conveniently in Quaker HQ (what non Quakers call Newberg), I attended the yearly meeting annual sessions and loved them, even the business meetings.  I couldn’t get enough. I even participated in the Faith and Practice committee, which I really enjoyed (who wouldn’t enjoy working with Tom Stave??). And then in August of 2008, I left for a different seminary.  I left all the way to Kentucky and landed in a nest of Wesleyans and Southerners and even some Texans.  

The move was challenging, excruciating, eye-opening, amazing, and life-altering.  It was vital that I spend time in a different world.  My perspective on the church broadened significantly.  I saw a variety of ordination processes, experienced nuanced and bold differences in theology, witnessed great challenges in leadership structure and hierarchy.  And I discovered with an inarguable certainty that I am Quaker down to the very roots of my soul.  I have soaked it into my very being.  It will always be a part of who I am and the lens through which I see and know God.  

These days, I live in a small town outside of Portland that does not have a Friends church. Without a car or money for bus fare, my little Quaker soul is still missing that community, so maybe it’s not quite so odd that I get a bit euphoric over the coming of the Yearly Meeting.  That’s not to say I’m not realistic about expectations.  I have been in the yearly meeting all of my nearly 32 years of life.  I have seen life-giving discussions and confirmations, and I have witnessed things that beg for forgiveness.  As always with family, it is the good, the bad, and the ugly, but on the whole, it is beautiful and curious and forgiving and welcoming.  For me, it is home.

*A couple notes of clarification for my non Quaker friends: 
1. Our Yearly Meeting is the equivalent of most denominations’ understanding of a Conference.  Everyone is invited to the annual sessions, though, not just the official church leadership. 
2. The term Friends and Quakers mean the same thing; I use them interchangeably. 
3. Quakers don’t have a thick, bound copy of “The Book of Discipline” like the United Methodists.  Historically, Quakers didn’t approve of heavy-set doctrine, so each yearly meeting creates its own Faith and Practice document (ours is around 90 or so pages) which remains in constant revision, as we don’t believe such things are set in stone.