Sheffield becomes First City of Sanctuary

At the Refugee Week launch today, the Mayor of Sheffield announced that the City Council has pledged its support for City of Sanctuary. Sheffield has now become the first UK city to make a public commitment to welcoming asylum-seekers and refugees - the first 'City of Sanctuary'.

In his speech, the Mayor said, 'I'm pleased to announce today that the City Council declares its support for City of Sanctuary, this means that the City Council is now publicly committed to working with others to promote a welcoming city for asylum-seekers and refugees.'

There is still plenty of work to be done in encouraging other local organisations to become involved, and in working with the City Council and others on finding ways to translate this commitment into practice. But it is a major landmark in the movement to create a culture of hospitality for asylum-seekers and refugees, and I would like to thank everyone from the Meeting for their support over the last couple of years. We hope soon to begin discussions with groups in other cities to try to create Cities of Sanctuary around the UK.

Reflections of an Attender

Introduction, ‘Reflections of an Attender’

In the letter from Balby Elders and Overseers, published on the Blog on 16th May, I posted a ‘Comment’ with regard to its content on 4th June saying that I would write a reply before the weekend. Since then I have considered my response, and I have offered for publication in Sheffield Quaker News, where I first read the letter. As I post my reply - ‘Reflections of an Attender’ on the Quaker blog I would like to offer some claqrification. I have been an Attender at Sheffield Central Meeting for 18 years. Why, you may wonder, did I not apply for membership over all this time? The answer is partly to be found in what follows and a further explanation can be found in my ‘Saga of Faith’ or Search for Meaning (blog Feb. 2007).


Reflections of an Attender

The recent letter from Balby Overseers and Elders raises a very important issue. ‘How can we enable everyone in our meetings to feel more fully included’? The young George Fox searched among priests and puritans for four years before he realized that these people offered nothing to meet his spiritual needs. He had further inspirations regarding the centrality of Christ Jesus in speaking to his condition. From his inspirations the Society of Friends came into being. Perhaps a key question is, ‘Do our Quaker meetings offer today’s seekers the help that George Fox was looking for in his day?’ I would be confident of a more positive response if Friends were all a bit more alert to ‘Advice number 5’ which has an application to spoken ministry, as well as to all interactions between visitors, attenders and members.

Seekers do come to our meetings and they too are advised to take time to learn about other people’s experiences of the Light. The presumption is that Friends share freely from their inner experiences. Can this sharing be a little devalued, especially in meeting for worship? In the recognised tension between spoken ministry and silence does the balance swing too much towards silence? The two should not be mutually exclusive, and together they make up Quaker worship. I hear Friends remark, ‘It was a lovely meeting - silent’. A group of hermits could meet to pray and to meditate in silence, but would George Fox advocate more than this in Quaker worship? I think that the Quietism that characterized meetings of 18th century served a real purpose, after the turmoil of former days. However when meetings in our time are calling for integration and outreach, can we offer silence - plus? Margaret Fell spoke of the danger of Quakerism moving from being ‘an adventure in discovery’ to becoming ‘a family of faithfulness’. I dare to ask that our meetings offer more of ‘an adventure in discovery’? Settled Friends do meet else-where and have opportunities to share and to learn, but where, if not at meetings for worship do the rest of us learn about other people’s experiences of the Light’?

Where do we discover the importance of the Bible, the writings of Friends and all writings which reveal the ways of God? Where do seekers learn about ‘the Way’ proclaimed by Jesus? Most early Quakers were steeped in knowledge of the Bible and of the church. Is this true of most Quakers today? I believe the message of the Gospels and the church must be taken hold of at a deep level, and with guidance, a seeker is enabled to see what fits one’s own inner promptings and then he/she can take the final steps towards discovering a new relationship to God. Most Friends believe that the teachings of the Bible and the church are not the only sources of inspiration, however we dare not ignore them, for against what other background of knowledge, do Friends interpret the inner promptings that lead to a new consciousness of God.

We have a wealth of Quaker literature, and so much other spiritual writing. As you learn from others, can you in turn give freely from what you have gained? Could Friends share something more of the things that they have found valuable and insightful in their personal prayer? In our meetings for worship should our relationship with God be reflected in the building up of the community? While respecting the experiences and opinions of others, do not be afraid to say what you have found and what you value? Is our faith so private that we keep it to ourselves, even though our ‘word’ might be the one that truly speaks to someone else’s condition? Surely we cannot be complacent if only a relatively small number respond in ministry to the inner ‘small voice’? I am not suggesting a multiplying of ministry for its own sake, nor ministry that comes from clever thinking or the ego, but could it be just fear that stops many of us from contributing in spoken ministry during our ‘adventure of discovery’?

I don’t believe that Friends have got it ‘all together’ all the time. That’s fine; it’s just the way it is, however do we realize that by sharing something of our inner questions and turmoil we may be offering a precious gift to someone who is seeking to make sense of their own confused life? It is helpful to appreciate that doubt and questioning can also lead to spiritual growth? Could fear of sounding shallow become our block to this process? It is not strength that speaks to a soul. Our very weakness can be the bridge that will enable ‘the seeker’ to cross over to a new spiritual insight. Jesus was not only the ‘comforter of the afflicted’, but also the ‘afflicter of the comfortable’. I dare to ask if our meetings might benefit from a bit more ‘quaking’ and a bit less ‘comfortable silence’? Jesus sent his disciples out to teach and to heal. Quakerism should not only teach but also help to heal the souls of each one of us in our giving and our receiving. Could those who feel intimidated or shy find on occasions extra courage and make an added contribution to the meeting through sincere ministry? Active response to ministry and to the inner voice can lead each worshiper to a greater awareness of the Light that is in us all.

Like George Fox, many in our age too are searching for a place that can offer help! I believe that sincere welcome, silence and honest ministry are three of the things central to what a seeker needs. Otherwise the visitor or an attender may well turn around and continue their search elsewhere. I was so close to doing this many times. I did stay and eventually, by God’s grace, I responded to ministry offered and to the inner Light, and at age 64, I was once again given the gift to turn my life around. After years of confusion and depression, I discovered a deeper, richer, personal, first-hand faith. This faith is one I had never dared to dream achievable. Now that I know it is, I wish it to be shared by all true seekers. Deo Gratias.


P.S.
When I first read the letter from Balby Elders and Overseers, the 3 sentences that had the most impact on me, and that stirred a need to respond were:-

1) “How can we enable everyone in out Meetings to feel more fully included?”
2) “How do we ‘help one another up with a tender hand’ during crises – spiritual, social, psychological?”
3) “Yet how sad if they were searching for something we really have to offer – but never gave them the opportunity to discover”.

What I wrote is simply one person’s beliefs, from reflecting on life and the gift of Quaker worship. I look forward to the response that others might bring to all the questions raised in the Balby letter.

I recognise the danger of there being too much ministry at our meetings and the further danger of some ‘ministry’ proceeding from the ego rather than from the inner promptings of the Spirit. However I also believe that ‘an undue fear of ministering’ is not from a person’s true centre either. The Spirit of God is not one of timidity. Any undue fear is most likely coming from the same ego place. So one way or another, the danger of our ‘egos’ getting in the way of the Spirit is very real and always present. It is a danger that we should always be aware of, but I don’t think we can ever be 100% certain that we ourselves or others are coming from the true Self or that there is ego interference.

I am happy to trust the Spirit of God that is at the heart of our Meetings, and the spark of God in each one of us, leading us all forward in the most appropriate way. Without wishing to compromise anything of the best of the Quaker Tradition, I dare to ask, with the Balby letter, that we give ‘Integration’ a real priority in this age. I believe that this integration is needed in our Society of Friends. It is also needed as a sign to our often broken and divided ‘wider communities’.

I believe that the honest ministering that I’m asking for would
assist the healing process in each one of us. The most crucial ‘integration’ we need is the integration of our own psychological lives, to become ‘whole’ or ‘holy’. I am not addressing these words to the faint hearted and I know I’m suggesting an approach to worship that will not be to everyone’s taste. It may in fact be inappropriate for many to step beyond a comfort zone that they are secure in, but does this prevent one from expressing an ideal? I sincerely hope not. What The Christ centre seems to ask for is more and more consciousness, and an honest sharing from this consciousness - Jesus told us, in the parable of the lamp, ‘Would you bring in a lamp to put it under a tub or under the bed? Surely you will but it on a lamp-stand? For there is nothing hidden but it must be disclosed, nothing kept secret except to be brought to light. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to this’ (Mark 4: 21-23). I know that this challenges every ego position to an incredible degree – it would even make a counsellor cringe! And am I asking for honest sharing in public, at a meeting for worship? For some this may be out of the question and sometimes we need to remember that the price of discipleship is high, but the rewards incredible!!

I’m reminded too of Jesus words “I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly”. (John 10: 10). I believe that with God’s grace we can minister to each other and help bring the gift of healing to each other, especially ‘spiritual, social and psychological’ healing, by chipping away at our own ‘negative’ egos. Only then in this more central place within, that Carl Jung calls ‘The Self’ or the ‘God Centre within’, can we move to experience a more abundant life.

I seek to share my thoughts in humility without pretending I’m an expert in psychology, which I am not, and certainly not intending any offence to the Society of Friends or to any individual Friend. My wish is rather to stimulate further thoughts, conversation and discussion. And perhaps what I share may resonate with some. If anyone feels that ‘there is a germ of truth’ in what I share, then why not try to live and worship more adventurously. Then maybe our Meetings for Worship could just possibly reflect a greater openness. And then only time would tell whether visitors and attenders begin to feel more integrated and so be more likely to stay around to enjoy what we truly do have to offer, through the Spirit of God in our midst.

My words come from my own experience of having suffered from depression and the sense of exclusion that I felt over time. This experience was followed in my life by a sense of well-being which brought much prayerful reflection on what aided the movement from one state of mind to the other. I recently came across at Sheffield’s Millennium Centre a lovely quote from John Ruskin, “What we think, or what we know, or what we believe is, in the end of little consequence. The only thing of consequence is what we do”.

I give thanks to God for the Friends who listened to my questions, and hung in there with me during times of great confusion. I give thanks for the inspiration of George Fox who came through his own darkness to light and gave us the Society of Friends. I give thanks for our silent worship; but also for ministry that others shared with us out of that silence, especially for ministry offered by those who were daring enough to share weakness as well as strength, and finally I give thanks for all who demonstrated a real spirit of welcome to me over the years at Sheffield Central Meeting.

The Meaning of Music and Life

A friend asked me, some years ago, “Do you believe that life has meaning?” I said, “Yes, I do.”

“All right, then,” she said. “What does it mean?”

Wow! A tricky one. When in doubt, answer a question with another question. I said, “Do you like listening to music?” She did: Beethoven, especially the piano sonatas. “Do you like that music that goes all over the place?” I did a bit of an imitation of Schoenberg, as best I could, which sounds like a random series of sounds, notes and knockings.

She said, “No. I can’t stand it. It does my head in.”

“You can tell Beethoven from that stuff, or a random assortment of sound effects, because Beethoven’s music means something to you, right?” She agreed.

“All right, then,” I said. “What does it mean?”

Well, she got pretty cross with me. In fact, she kicked my shin, which I thought was entirely reasonable.

The thing is, if you’ve got music, music means something to you. (My cousin was tone deaf. Music didn’t mean anything to him. He just couldn’t get it, although he acknowledged that it meant something to other people; he didn’t dismiss it.) But you can’t say what music means. If Beethoven could have said it in words, he wouldn’t have had to engage a whole orchestra. He could have written a letter to a friend. “Dear Hans, Today I have understood that the real essence of life is the Brotherhood of Man,” or something.

You don’t say what music means; you play it. With life, you don’t say it or play it; you live it.

Question: Is it possible scientifically to prove the existence of music? Some scientists tell us that music is nothing but a pattern of vibrations in the air, a bye-product of mechanical events occurring in various collections of wood, metal, reeds, gut, etc. Some say that the existence of music is an outdated myth from ancient times, and that those who believe in it are credulous and naïve. Others listen to the music.

On May 27, our good Friend Maurice gave ministry. Paraphrased: Roman Catholics respect the authority of the Church, and believe in God because the Church tells them about God. Protestants respect the authority of the Bible, and believe in God because the Bible tells them about God. We Quakers respect the authenticity of the inner promptings of our hearts, and we believe in God because the inner promptings of our hearts tell us about God.

Now, extending this model to the vexed question of the existence of music: Some people believe in music because the Royal College of Music tells us about music. There wouldn’t be a Royal College of something unless that something existed, would there? Some people believe in music because they have seen it written in a book. They may not know what it means, but it’s there. But we Quakers listen to the music.

Letter from Balby Elders and Overseers

Elders and Overseers from Sheffield Central, Nether Edge and Bamford met together to discuss the theme of ‘Inclusion’ at Morley Retreat Centre, on the weekend of 30 March. (The picture, left, is the chapel at Morley).

We worshipped together, and shared views and feelings, around the question of ‘How can we enable everyone in our Meetings to feel more fully included?’ We started from our own experiences, and moved on to identify those moments in people’s lives when feeling part of our community might be problematic. We considered how people move from being newcomers towards a sense of feeling included among us. Some may find it difficult to sustain coming to Meeting in the long term when their life outside Quakers becomes more demanding, or their needs change. Even if they appear to feel at home among us, the connection may not be strong enough to withstand changes, doubts and uncertainties. Longstanding members of our community will have very different needs, and different things to offer, as they move through the stages of their lives.

Sometimes we come to Meeting for Worship every week, wanting to be fully involved, and willing to take on different roles. Sometimes we need more space, so that although we continue to see ourselves as part of the Quaker community, we may not want such active involvement. How do we manage those transitions sensitively, without becoming hurt, feeling left out and passed over – or overwhelmed? How do we make a welcoming space for children, and how do we ‘help one another up with a tender hand’ during crises – spiritual, social, psychological?

When newcomers arrive, how can we assess their needs sensitively? We acknowledged that our Meetings are overwhelmingly composed of white and apparently middle-class people. Our silence-based worship can mean that it takes a long time to find out what is at the heart of our Quaker spirituality, and to find out about one another. We heard from the Epistle of Black, White, Asian and mixed heritage Friends, (1991):

‘Racism within the Society of Friends is perhaps more damaging because it is unconscious and springs from stereotyped assumptions:

‘And no harm is meant by it. Harm may be done but it is never meant.’

Differences other than race, such as class, sexuality and personal religious history, can lead to stereotyping and unintentionally excluding people. Our unquestioned assumptions can then make it harder for them to find and keep their spiritual home among us.

We were reminded that our spiritual process is at the heart of who we are: and yet it can be hard for us to talk freely about this. Do we take every opportunity to talk about our spiritual experiences with one another? To share the joys and demands of the spiritual life? To offer practical help with becoming and staying focused during Worship, and maintaining a regular spiritual practice, to those for whom this may feel new and strange?

As a community in which we all share the tasks that would otherwise fall to a minister, there can be a danger of us becoming preoccupied with organisational matters. This may happen when we talk to one another about business, especially in the precious half-hour after Meeting for Worship. Our intention is important here: if we approach our time together with the desire to include one another at every possible opportunity, we may find that a change develops in what we think our business is, and in how we go about it.

We make an effort to welcome people who are new to our Meetings with warmth, but we need to consider also how we can help them to become integrated. How can we be sensitive to the changing needs of those who have been among us for a while, whom we think we know, and yet whose lives may be undergoing transformation? Sometimes our own feelings of inadequacy prevent us from acting, from saying difficult things to one another. It is risky to hear another’s doubts and questions, to feel their vulnerability – and our own. Do we avoid speaking for fear of intruding into another person’s space?

What happens to those people who come for a while and seem to be part of our Meetings, yet then disappear? They may have found out all that they needed, and are content to leave. Yet how sad if they were searching for something we actually have to offer – but never gave them the opportunity to discover.

Small groups working on ‘Gifts and Discoveries’ and ‘Hearts and Minds’ had enabled some Friends to get to know others better, and to become more deeply part of the Meeting community. Being in several small groups over a period of time is one way gradually to build up the number of people that you know in the ‘things that are eternal’.

Some practical suggestions:

• Get to know each other better across the whole of Balby Monthly Meeting. Ours is an unusual situation, with one large Meeting and several smaller ones. We want to encourage everyone to visit other Meetings, to experience their Worship, and to get to know Friends outside your regular Meeting. We also want to encourage new people who have been drawn to Sheffield Meeting House to visit other Meetings, and we plan to suggest all this in SQN.
• With new people. Identify an Elder and an Overseer by name during notices, and ensure that one of them is available in the Meeting room to talk one-to-one. A Meeting for Reflection can provide a safe environment for general discussion: make its purpose clear to everyone, and name the Friend responsible for its smooth running. This is also an opportunity to familiarise the whole Meeting with the Elders and Overseers, and to say something about their roles.
• When conducting business, especially immediately before and after Meeting for Worship: remember that this is an opportunity to include everyone in our ministry. If we approach jobs as opportunities for people to get to know one another, rather than as chores on a rota that’s hard to fill – we may find that people say ‘yes’ more often, and that the loving quality of our Meetings increases.
• Encourage newcomers to have an envelope – or to join an email list, or whatever system the Meeting uses for communication – as soon as possible.
• Young people and children. We ask everyone to consider how we can encourage all the children and young people to feel more strongly a part of our community, and particularly to find ways to enable the older young people to ‘grow into’ Meeting for Worship. Friends at Central suggested inviting them to join the main Meeting for Worship for a longer period sometimes – perhaps fifteen to thirty minutes. We need to find ways of gathering them in to the Worship, and resisting the temptation to change the atmosphere, so that the Meeting is deepened rather than feeling that it has ended prematurely.
• Follow up on Quaker Quest with a variety of activities, aiming to appeal to Attenders with different needs and interests. Think about how each of our Meetings can use Quaker Week for outreach.

Jane Fitzgerald, Clerk to Balby MM Elders and Overseers

Some Good Advice

Our Friend Joyce T. reads from the Quaker 'Advices & Queries'.



This short video was recorded at Britain Yearly Meeting last weekend. This year for the first time Yearly Meeting was covered by a team of bloggers. You can see all of their work at the BYM blog page.

A Bad Place to Pretend

A write-up of a talk for Quaker Quest in Sheffield

When contemplating the quality of Quaker faith in action, the best place I can think of to begin is with the instinct for silence which belongs at the heart of Quaker life. This instinct manifests itself in several ways. One is the physical silence which forms the basis of Quaker worship, where worshippers speak only under a strong compulsion. Another is the doctrinal silence (so to speak), the famous Quaker taboo on set prayers, creeds, liturgies and other verbal formulas, sustained on the understanding that living truth cannot be boiled down to words or ideas. Quakers have always had this understanding. Although Quakers have generally understood living truth as Christianity, this is no longer the case in certain places (Britain included) and some Quakers would definitely not describe themselves in these terms and it all goes into the mix.

Also, Quakers don't add much extra religious paraphernalia to the ordinary business of everyday life. They have certain core values or testimonies, but they don't have fixed rules or regulations about what you can or can't eat or drink or wear or do at certain times of the year. The basic statement of Quaker values has the strikingly tentative title of Advices and Queries and it consists mostly not of dogmatic statements, but of questions - rather leading questions, admittedly, but questions nonetheless. Quakers have certain basic ways of doing things together, but they avoid rituals as such. They have a membership, but formal membership isn't rigorously enforced on those taking part in the life of a Quaker community. Some Quakers continue to participate in other faith communities and some think Quaker membership ought to be done away with altogether. So there are no beliefs to sign up to, no rules to follow, no rituals to participate in, and no rites of passage to undergo.

All this poses a practical problem: how do I know I'm really a Quaker? How do I know I'm not just pretending?

Given that "being a Quaker" adds so little in the way of extra paraphernalia to everyday life, the only way I can know whether or not I'm really a Quaker is by looking at my everyday life to see if it's really being lived in accordance with Quaker principles. There's no other way it can break out into the open. This is how Quakers have always intended it and it's the reason why they keep shtum on so many seemingly important topics.

So how do I know my everyday life is being lived in accordance with Quaker principles?

I find the answer to this question in the quality of the action undertaken and the nature of the experience which motivates it. Quakers have always had a very specific understanding of these things and they have evolved an in-house jargon to express this understanding precisely.

The jargon term is "concern." Concern in the Quaker sense does not mean the same thing as concern in the normal sense. You can be concerned with a matter or issue without necessarily being "under concern" about it. Concern refers to something extra: work undertaken specifically by the promptings of the central impulse of Quaker life, the mysterious central extra factor X which Quakers refer to as the Light or the Inner Light and ascribe variously to the Spirit and/or to God. When Quakers act under concern, they do not necessarily understand or like or even consciously approve of the course of action they are taking. Rather, they recognise an imperative to act which comes from outside the self, or at least the normal everyday conscious self which guides most human action most of the time.

Concern has led Quakers into some strange and adventurous territory. The first Quakers were known for carrying out acts which made no rational sense at all even to themselves. There is the famous story of George Fox, the prominent early Quaker, who, the first time he saw the spires of Lichfield, felt compelled to make straight for the town and run up and down the streets crying "Woe to the bloody city of Lichfield," without apparently knowing why. Other early Quakers risked and sometimes lost their lives travelling the world to preach to such unpromising audiences as the Turkish sultan or the New England puritans. Elizabeth Fry, the famous prison reformer, was acting under concern; so were those who worked for the abolition of slavery. Modern Quakers, acting under concern, helped to found university departments of Peace Studies. And so forth. Finally, spoken ministry in meeting for worship always is, or always ought to be, given under concern. Those giving ministry do not always know why they have to say what they have to say (although they may find out afterwards) and they are not understood to be speaking or themselves. The same applies to Quaker business decisions - when ordering their life as a community, Quakers seek to be guided, not by consensus or majority opinion, but by a shared sense of concern in the Quaker sense.

So if I want to know if I'm a real Quaker, I measure it by the extent to which I live my life under concern - that is, under the guidance the mysterious central extra factor X which is the well-spring of Quaker creativity and the glue that holds Quakers together as a distinct, living, active, worshipping community. The first thing to note about trying to live as a Quaker - that is, trying to live under concern - is that it is uncomfortable. To early Quakers, the hallmark of the real concern was that the person involved was acting reluctantly.

When I first got involved, I stumbled into a number of moments of acting under concern. To risk self-indulgence by giving a couple of personal examples: a number of years before I got involved with the Quakers, I was in a relationship with a woman from Nottingham and I ended it fairly abruptly and callously - something I was making rather too much of a habit of, at the time and subsequently. We would follow the Nottingham custom of meeting "by the lions" - that is, by the statues outside the city hall, the joke being that if you waited by the lions till eight o'clock you could tell who'd been stood up.

Years later, when I got involved with the Quakers, I was sitting on Derby station waiting for the train home to Sheffield when I suddenly experienced the compulsion to get on the next train that came in. Half an hour later I was wandering towards Nottingham city centre without the slightest clue what I was doing and why. I ended up by the lions, still without any sense of purpose or reason. It was only when the clock struck eight that I felt free to move and get the train back to Sheffield.

I still can't say I know why I did it. It could certainly have been my subconscious mind or conscience belatedly playing the drama queen a bit in order to make a point. At the same time, it took me out of my comfort zone and gave me a salutary lession in what it felt like to be stood up. It was worth doing in some way, and it has never, at the time or since, felt like it was my decision to do it. Left to what I understand as my own devices, I wouldn't have thought of it, or bothered.

It's not a particularly good example, but it's one of the better examples from my own experience of being compelled to step outside your comfort zone in order to do something weird but well worth while. Quaker life and history is full of much more serious and substantial examples of a similar thing. This enduring tendency to live at or beyond the boundaries of the comfort zone has the effect of making Quaker life generally feel very real - at times, unremittingly real. Quakers are in earnest. Something about the manner of experienced Quakers tells the world, "I am a very nice, charitable and reasonable person, but on no account am I to be trifled with."

But perhaps the most striking illustration of this real quality of Quaker life and faith came, characteristically, from a very different source, in the course of one of my early meetings for worship. In Sheffield meeting, the children usually join the main meeting about ten minutes before the end and there is usually a few minutes more or less subdued shuffling, noisemaking, parent-finding, and earnest whispering while they settle down. If they settle down.

The noises made by young children are often received by the meeting as a form of ministry, and so it was with me on this occasion. I was sitting in my usual place at the back by the grand piano, and ten minutes before the end, in came the children as usual. I gradually became aware that two young Friends had crawled off and fetched up underneath the piano. They were holding a conversation in deafening stage whispers. I never found out who they were. They were hidden by the piano and at that point I wouldn't have known them by sight anyway. But I distinctly heard one of them suggesting something like a game of Let's Pretend. The conversation then went as follows:

"Let's pretend - "
"We can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because this is a bad place to pretend."

I don't think there's ever been a better definition of a Quaker meeting than a bad place to pretend. The stubborn Quaker silence on what seems like essentials of doctrine and identity, the focus on everyday life, is, I think, an attempt to avoid pretence. The cultivated habit of seeking to act under concern involves seeking to act from outside your own self, or at least from outside your own habitual everyday self. In my understanding this paradoxically involves taking a mask off, abandoning a pretence, much more than it involves putting a new mask on. All these things are potentially frightening and uncomfortable because they are the expression of an essential Quaker striving towards truth, a striving which works against a pervasive tendency to retreat into fantasy, habit, wishful thinking, and dogma in the negative sense of received wisdom. Quaker action undertaken as part of that striving towards Truth, whatever form that action may take, is Quaker faith in action.

Doesn't It Make You Proud to Be British?

From the Times Educational Supplement 16th March:

"Cheeky Julio Quinones was the life and soul of his primary class. What he lacked in academic prowess, he made up for with his roguish sense of humour.

That made him popular with other pupils at Brunswick Park primary in Camberwell, south London, and endeared him to his teacher.

But 10-year-old Julio’s four years at the school came to an abrupt and frightening end. During a numeracy lesson, Home Office immigration officials turned up to deport the Bolivian boy, driving him away in a van with armed guards. Bewildered pupils were left wondering where their friend had gone.

Susannah Bellingham, Julio’s teacher, said the Home Office had given her a 45-minute warning of their arrival.

“I had time to talk to Julio quickly, to try to reassure him, and then took him to the head’s office,” she said. “Two uniformed immigration officials asked me to identify his mother , who was in a silver van outside, surrounded by officials with batons. Then they led him away to her."

Read the whole article here.