If you’re a Quaker, you know our way of conducting the business of the meeting can be maddening. I grew up Roman Catholic, so the business of our congregation was decided by a priest, who reported to a bishop, who answered to the Pope, an old, white man who lived in Europe and was never seen in Danville, Indiana, though we prayed for him every Sunday.
I began attending a Quaker meeting at the age of sixteen. It was pastored by the son-in-law of an influential member. He’d been raised a Baptist and didn’t know the first thing about Quakerism, but needed a job, so his father-in-law called in a few favors to get him one. Whenever I hear Quakers brag about the purity of our business process, I remember the sleight-of-hand that landed a Baptist pastor in a Quaker meeting.
While the reality of a Quaker business meeting can fall short, the theory of the Quaker business meeting is appealing. We sit quietly and prayerfully, discerning the will of God. The person facilitating the meeting is called a clerk. If that congregation has a pastor, not all Quaker meetings do, the pastor is never the clerk, since Quakers are loathe to grant pastors broad powers. It is the clerk’s job to introduce the topic of business, then listen carefully as Quakers speak to the matter. Presumably, those who speak during a meeting for business are led by the Spirit to do so, though one quickly learns that isn’t always the case. After careful listening, the clerk proposes a way forward that all present can affirm. As you might imagine, it can be unwieldy, time-consuming, and only works as well as the intelligence and integrity of the participants permit. When it works, it is a lovely thing to behold, and I congratulate myself for belonging to such a high-minded group. When it doesn’t work, I wish I were a Catholic again, taking orders from an old man in Europe.
I’m starting my fiftieth year as a Quaker and have attended hundreds, if not thousands, of Quaker business meetings. While this might not make me an expert, I do know more about the Quaker business meeting than the average bear. Here’s what I’ve noticed: While Quaker protocol encourages each person to speak only once on a given matter, some people believe God has directed them to speak multiple times, usually in a manner that suggests anyone who disagrees with them isn’t as smart, godly, or principled as they are. When I first became a pastor, I was certain I was the brightest person in the room and took every opportunity to display my brilliance, until an elderly Quaker woman pulled me aside and in a tender voice urged me to shut my yap so others could speak.
Every Quaker who has ever lived has thought themselves indispensable to the well-being of the meeting, only to learn otherwise. That said, some Quakers do enjoy a better reputation than others. We call them weighty Friends. These are people with a proven record of wisdom, discernment, maturity, humility, and grace. When they speak, which isn’t often, the rest of us listen. It’s been my experience there are more Quakers who think they are weighty than actually are. Here’s a good rule of thumb: If you think you’re a weighty Friend, you aren’t.
People new to Quakerism sometimes grow frustrated with the slow pace of our business meeting and ask why we can’t vote and get on with things. They are reminded that we are not seeking the will of the majority, but the will of God. This makes sense when we’re discerning something of spiritual significance, but when we’re choosing carpet colors, I’m not sure God cares one way or the other. However well-intentioned we are, I’m sure we must annoy God at times. When I think of God, I picture an old woman in Europe, her head in her hands, saying, “Oy vey, get on with it already.”
If you’re looking for quick decisions, attend a fundamentalist church where the pastor decides everything. You might not like what he (it’s always a he) decides, but it will be done quickly, and you’ll get out of church in time for a good seat at the local restaurant. If it’s democracy you’re after, attend a Presbyterian church, where everyone gets a vote. If you are willing to entrust all your decisions to an old man in Europe, hook up with the Catholic church. But if you want to ponder every decision from a multitude of angles and perspectives, for several meetings in a row, you might be a Quaker.