Tag Archives: Easter

Are we giving good evidence this Easter?

Prompted by discussion on Facebook – itself prompted by the arrival of Easter, Passover, and other seasonal festivities – I have been thinking about the Quaker ‘testimony’ of refusing to recognise times and seasons. I’ve written before about how this is a practice more honoured in the breach than the observance (and I plan to stop after this – it probably won’t come up again until December, anyway!). It’s common today to list testimonies in positive forms, often with the capital letter of vague importance – Peace, Truth, Equality, etc. We might not be sure what these look like, but we’re for them. Other discussions make it clear that testimonies can also be against things – against war, against injustice, against fancy clothing, against inequality, against gambling. The stuff about being against times and seasons seems to be firmly in the latter category, although it’s sometimes seen in a positive incarnation, as something like: all days are equally holy.

A testimony, however, isn’t just a practice, like wearing grey, or a position, like being anti-war, or even a value, like thinking equality is good. ‘Testimony’ comes from the same root as ‘testify’, to witness, to give evidence, and we can still use it in this sense as well. The image is of a court of law, where you can give evidence in a trial. However, in order for that evidence, your testimony, to make sense, it has to be given in the right context. You can witness to Jane’s impeccable character until you’re blue in the face, and it won’t make any difference if it’s John’s behaviour which is before the court.

So when we hold to or reject a historical form of testimony, we need to ask: what question is it we are answering? Since we’re witnessing to the world and to each other, this is question which people ask, not a question God asks: it isn’t “will you come and follow me/if I but call your name?” but rather “what would the world be like if it were ruled by God/dess?” We can then talk about there being a spiritual process which leads us to an answer, but also our actions need to answer that question – and our explanations of our actions can link back to the question. For example, one answer to “what does the Divine Commonwealth look like?” might be “everyone is equal”. In order to witness to that possibility, we practice equality – rejecting titles and fancy headstones and all sorts of other things – in order to give evidence about our understanding of God’s way of living.

At the moment, I think a court assembled to take evidence from British Quaker attitudes to times and seasons might conclude that we are hypocritical, unspiritual by our own purported standards, and easily swayed by consumerism and especially sweets. Quakers talk about not recognising times and seasons when it suits them – like when they not giving anything up for Lent or want to put down Friends who engage with Pagan traditions – but pick them up again for other purposes – when they have an Easter egg hunt for the children or Christmas carol concert. Similarly, the reason given for not celebrating times and seasons is that the events of the Christian story which are tied to the festivals early Friends were rejecting is that those events can be remembered every day – but it’s not always clear that modern Quakers think about them on any day at all (or even that the community thinks they should). And the majority of British Quakers participate in seasonal rituals, at home if not at Meeting: the eating of Christmas cakes and Easter chocolates, the giving of gifts and the hunting of eggs.

Can we really maintain this form of testimony? I think it was meant to give the answer ‘in the Kingdom of God we will remember and celebrate Christ’s story every day’, but it’s starting to sound like ‘in the Kingdom of God we will do what we like, picking and choosing when to live the Spirit’s way and when to live the world’s way’. If we can have simplicity without plain dress, maybe it’s time to let this one drop away, too.

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Five Reasons Quakers Can Celebrate Christmas

In Quaker faith & practice, passage 27.42 says:

A… testimony held by early Friends was that against the keeping of ‘times and seasons’. We might understand this as part of the conviction that all of life is sacramental; that since all times are therefore holy, no time should be marked out as more holy; that what God has done for us should always be remembered and not only on the occasions named Christmas, Easter and Pentecost.

This is a testimony which seems to be dying of neglect. Many Friends, involved with family and the wider society, keep Christmas; in some meetings, Easter and its meaning is neglected, not only at the calendar time but throughout the year. What I would hope for is neither that we let the testimony die, nor that we keep it mechanically. I hope for a rediscovery of its truth, that we should remember and celebrate the work of God in us and for us whenever God by the Spirit calls us to this remembrance and this joy.

Janet Scott, 1994

With all due respect to my friend and sometime co-tutor Janet Scott, I want to put forward some reasons why we should not just let this testimony go, but actively get rid of it. I think we will do better at keeping what Janet describes as its truth – will do better at remembering and celebrating the work of God whenever the Spirit calls us to do so – if we set aside some times to do so consciously, not mechanically but regularly. puts on ‘devil’s advocate for God’ hat

1. We already do.

Meetings hold Christmas celebrations. They have special meals, sing carols, and let the kids do a play. They cancel study groups and committee meetings, and expect that people will spend time with their families. This year, December 25th falls on a Sunday, so this will be invisible – but when it doesn’t, meetings all over Britain hold special Christmas Meetings for Worship. Fewer meetings – but some – also hold extra Meetings for Worship on Good Friday (some serve hot cross buns as well). I once challenged this and was told that it was because people were free on the bank holiday, and indeed Yearly Meeting uses the May bank holidays for some two years of its three yearly cycle, but it’s very rare for local meetings to use other bank holidays, and not on anything like the same regular basis. There’s no special end of August Meeting for Worship, so there’s something about Christmas and Easter. If we are to be honest, we need to stop pretending that we don’t celebrate these festivals.

2. We’re Christians.

Okay, some of us aren’t. I’m not, actually – from time to time I think I might be starting to get on not-so-badly with this Jesus guy, and then I meet some Christian Christians, you know the type, the sort who think I’m doing it wrong if I agree with Jesus rather than singing slightly erotic songs about him, or who think I’ll go to hell for dating women, or who are sure that if I’d really read the New Testament I’d be going to their church. And when that happens, I decide that I’ll stay not-quite-a-Christian, thank you very much. As a Quaker, though, I am a member of a Christian church, and I shouldn’t be allowed to hide from that. Even stronger: I should be routinely offered the chance to engage with all that is helpful and enriching and spiritually fulfilling in Christianity in case I want to take the plunge and open up the maybe-I’m-Christian-even-if-I’m-not-one-of-those-Christians space. Celebrating Christmas is a chance for us to do that.

3. Christmas – and Easter – hold key theological messages.

“In some meetings,” Janet wrote in 1994, “Easter and its meaning is neglected.” Although I do know a few meetings where it is celebrated, the theological meanings of Easter – the Good News about the Resurrection, for example – aren’t the sort of thing we hear about very often in a typical Quaker meeting. Although Christmas is a bigger feature, how many Friends actually contemplate the implications of God being born in a human body, rather than enjoying a few good tunes and a mince pie? If we opened up and said, yes, we are going to celebrate these things, we could look more directly at how we celebrate them and whether we are getting the most spiritual benefit from the process. In time, this might extend beyond Christmas and Easter to Pentecost and other stories which are embedded in the Christian liturgical calendar.

4. Seasonal cycles support our commitment to sustainability.

When we regard nature as alien and winter weather as an obstacle, it’s much harder for us to buy into arguments about why we should save the planet. The seasons change all the time, but Christmas is a point at which it’s socially more acceptable to admire evergreen trees, reflect on the days starting to lengthen, and appreciate the beauty of snow. This can be a starting point for a process of connecting more deeply to the natural world – animals, plants, weather, and climate. The understanding we gain through that process can shore up our determination to make lifestyle changes and campaign for larger social changes in order to protect our environment.

5. It’s fun.

Which is sometimes enough reason all on its own.

This isn’t an argument for extra buying, extra plastic, or doing anything you don’t want to do. It is an argument for enjoying the process of giving a few well-chosen presents and spending time with people you love. It is an argument for sharing and discussing traditional stories, stories which can have a truth beyond the facts. It is an argument for thinking about how your Christmas celebrations can be simple, truthful, sustainable, peaceful. It is an argument for not apologising: if you’re going to put up decorations, sing carols, and eat with family, don’t feel you have to add “even though it’s not Quakerly”.We can use it as part of our Quaker path.

Easter

Gospel: John 20:1-18.

I’ve skipped over a lot of important parts of Holy Week here, going straight to Sunday. In sense, though, this is the end and the beginning of the whole story: the Resurrection is the final event which (is taken to) prove the status of Jesus as the Christ, and it’s the launch pad from which the Christian story will take off. It is the end of the Gospels and the start of Acts; the last part of the good news and starting point for action.

In John’s telling, it is Mary Magdalene who is first to realise the significance of the event. When she does, she goes and tells the others about it. For many people considering Christianity today, especially although not only from the outside, this might represent one of the most problematic aspects of it: the demand it makes that the believer tell others, share the good news, try to convince and to convert. There are, of course, better and worse ways of doing this – but if my Facebook and my Twitter feed are anything to go by, plenty of people are encountering Christians today who are irritating or worse. These complaints don’t only come up around Easter, but the urgency which the season lends to the message seems to make it more common.

Mary, of course, didn’t go to strangers, which probably helped. She “went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’.”

From today’s Doyleist, outside-the-story, perspective, this is pretty flimsy evidence. Some writer says that someone said that she saw someone who was apparently dead two days before. If we take the story on its own terms, though, and look at the Watsonian perspective, we can see why the disciples are convinced: someone they know well reports to them something strange but positive about someone whom they knew and trusted, and who had shown himself capable of many weird things. Perhaps it’s easier, too, to understand Thomas, who demands proof for himself.

And what can I say? Only really this, that although I can enter into the story in this imaginative way, and am aware that it has a certain mythic power, I do not find resonance with it.