Keep Watch!
October 26, 2026 § Leave a comment
In the Bible study that I facilitate on Thursday afternoons on Zoom, we’ve been studying Jesus’s parables, and we recently looked at the parable of the bridesmaids, Matthew 25:1–13.
Strong correspondences connect this parable with Jesus’s agonized praying in Gethsemane, and, at an angle, with the story of the transfiguration. His command to “keep watch” at the end of that parable corresponds to his command to Peter, James, and John to keep watch in Gethsemane.
What is Jesus commanding his followers to keep watch for in these stories?
All three of the parables in Matthew 25 are kingdom parables, by which I mean that they prophesy a coming new age, a time of judgment, and his listeners will not know the hour of its coming. Presumably he is referring to the coming of the kingdom on earth for which Jesus prays in the Lord’s prayer. Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. A krisis (judgment) is also coming, he proclaims—keep watch!
In the story of Jesus’s agony in Gethsemane, he likewise commands Peter, James, and John to keep watch, using the same word as in the parable, meaning to be vigilant, stay awake, keep watch. And like the bridesmaids who didn’t bring enough oil, Peter, James, and John fail—they fall asleep. But what where they supposed to keep watch for?
You could imagine that he meant to watch out for the police. But the way he’s taken them with him to a secret place separate from the other disciples echoes the transfiguration. And the correspondences with the parables of Matthew 25 suggest that the object of their vigilance is the same: the coming of God’s kingdom, just as Moses and Elijah came in the transfiguration.
Jesus was obviously hoping for something to happen in Gethsemane that would obviate the need for the suffering that was his alternative. What would that be? What was he praying for? I think that he may have been praying: Father, let thy kingdom come, but thy will be done, not mine.
The place where this story takes place reinforces this reading—the Mount of Olives. In one of Ezekiel’s visions, he sees Yahweh’s presence leaving the temple back in Jerusalem (Ezekiel was with the exiles in Babylon) and coming to the people in Babylon. He is reassuring the exiles: you may have left God behind, but God has not left you behind. On the way from Jerusalem to “Chaldea,” God sets down momentarily on the Mount of Olives, which Ezekiel calls “the mountain east of the city”. Then, when God returns to Jerusalem in his vision, “the glory of the Lord was coming from the east,” from over the Mount of Olives, and enters the city through the east gate.
The prophet Zechariah is more explicit about the itinerary of the return. In Zechariah 14:3–4, his vision reads as follows: “Then the Lord will go forth and fight against those nations as when he fights on a day of battle. On that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east; and the Mount of Olives shall be split into two from east to west by a very wide valley . . .” One is reminded of Mark 11:23: “Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you.”
The milieu which the parable of the bridesmaids invokes is an impending wedding in a peasant village. In that real-world situation, the role of the bridesmaids was to guide the wedding party through the night to the wedding banquet with their light.
In the metaphoric language of the parable, their oil is the light by which the faithful will find their way to the messianic banquet, the final realization of the reign of God on earth as it is in heaven. Their oil, that light, is, presumably, the truth of the gospel and faith in the gospel and in Jesus’s prophecies.
In the parable, the foolish bridesmaids failed to nurture that gospel truth and faith. In the garden, the disciples also fail to stay awake and keep watch. In the “realized eschatology” so favored by Friends, in which the reign of God is coming in our time in our hearts, we are to keep watch. We do not know when our hour of visitation may come.
(Jesus tells several other parables about a banquet as a figure of God’s new age to come and they also include a judgment of those who fail to heed the call: Matthew 22:1–14, Luke 12:35–40, 14:7–14, 14:15–24.)
Early Friends and the “Magical” Bible
October 26, 2026 § 1 Comment
I’ve just read an article by Benjamin J. Wood of Leeds Trinity University, UK, titled “The Survival of the Gift: An Enchanted Interpretation of Early Quakerism.” On page fourteen, he adds a nuance about early Friends’ relationship with the Bible that I’ve not seen before.
First, he quotes Francis Howgill’s wonderful description of a gathered meeting:
The Lord of Heaven and earth we found to be near at hand, and, as we waited upon him in pure silence, our minds out of all things, his heavenly presence appeared in our assemblies, when there was no language, tongue nor speech from any creature. The Kingdom of Heaven did gather us and catch us all, as in a net, and his heavenly power at one time drew many hundreds to land. We came to know a place to stand in and what to wait in; and the Lord appeared daily to us, to our astonishment, amazement and great admiration . . . And from that day forward, our hearts were knit unto the Lord and one unto another in true and fervent love, in the covenant of Life with God; and that was a strong obligation or bond upon all our spirits, which united us one unto another.(1)
Wood follows with this:
How could a community gathered around Scripture have such intense experiences? As Mary Douglas has wryly suggested, ‘Fundamentalists who are not magical in their attitude to the Eucharist become magical in their attitude to the Bible’.(2) Similarly, it could be said that although early Quakerism stripped back the ritual basis of religious life to a bare minimum, such a reduction found rich compensation in an approach that treated the Scripture as a living reality that was continually being enacted in the present. Just as the Eucharist took place in the bodies of individual Friends, it was the Quaker conviction that one’s inner life could be reorganized so that one’s thoughts and actions could mirror Biblical events. Take, for instance, the early Quaker treatment of the Cross. Much like the devotion of Medieval contemplatives, early Friends frequently treated the crucifixion, not merely as a historical event (a past ‘redemptive’ act), but a living symbol, which expressed a worshipper’s conflict with, and eventual freedom from, sin. One did not simply read off the crucifixion, one lived it. As Fox expressed this idea in an epistle of 1653:
“. . . the cross overturns the world in the heart. . . . Where the world is standing the Cross is not lived in. But dwelling in the Cross to the world, here the Love of God is shed abroad into the heart, and the Way is opened in the inheritance, which does not fade away.”(3)
The truth of the Bible, when read in the Spirit which gave it forth, can reveal its truth, not just to us, but within us.
(1) Francis Howgill, “Testimony Concerning Edward Burroughs,” Quaker Spirituality: Selected Writings, Douglas Van Steere, ed., Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1984, pp. 9–10.
(2) Mary Douglas, Natural Symbols: Explorations in Cosmology, London: Routledge, 1970. Quoted from a 1996 edition, p. 21.
(3) George Fox, A Collection of Many Select and Christian Epistles, Letters and Testimonies of George Fox, Philadelphia: Isaac T. Hopper, 1831, pp. 66–67.
Teaching and RE in Quaker Culture
October 24, 2026 § 3 Comments
Last month, I facilitated the opening weekend retreat for Lake Erie Yearly Meeting’s spiritual formation program. I just got the evaluations from that retreat. Some Friends felt I lectured too much, though many more, I hope, appreciated the content.
I tried to dial my didacticism back and focus more on sharing and experience in my preparations. But I’m a teacher, and in the moment . . . To a degree, I’m irrepressible in that regard.
This experience confirmed for me that some Friends have a distaste for being taught. Maybe it’s a lot of Friends. A lot of Friends, in my experience, have a clear preference for sharing and discussion over being taught. Maybe it’s most Friends. Some Friends carry a staunch anti-creedalism that serves as shorthand for a distaste for doctrine, theology, religious content in general; I think it feels like dogma to them, which I don’t like either. They have a clear preference for “practice” over “faith,” never mind the faith section in our books of faith and practice.
All of this stems from a radical individualism in our religious culture, I feel. In this case, it manifests as the emotional insistence that nobody has the right to tell me what to think. It gets expressed through a clear preference for experience over thought, which borders on, or sometimes fully embraces, a hostility toward “being too much in your head”. Some Friends feel, I think, that the life of the mind has no significant place, or even any proper place, in the life of the Spirit.
Meanwhile, we do have a “faith” section in our books of faith and practice; we do have doctrine. By “doctrine” I mean we have something to say—to each other, to our children, to the world—in answer to their questions about our faith. Though we’re awfully afraid to say it.
You sometimes hear Quakerism described as a do-it-yourself religion, by which some Friends mean that each of us can do whatever we want. We’re DIY, alright. But that means that, since we have no paid religious professionals to do our Quakerism for us, we have to do it ourselves. And to “do” Quakerism, we have to know it. And to know our Quakerism, we have to learn it. And to learn it, we have to be taught; at the least, we have to teach ourselves. We have to study.
That’s been my path. Study—of the Bible and of Quakerism—is for me both a spiritual/religious discipline, meaning that I do it out of a sense of responsibility for my tradition. And it’s also for me a source of deep fulfillment and joy. Learning religious things gets me off; it always has.
Study is not everybody’s path. Hardly anybody’s, in fact. So most Friends are not going to learn Quakerism on their own. “Osmosis” doesn’t cut it, either. You can learn some of our conventions of practice by osmosis, and you can internalize some of our “values” through osmosis—and many Friends replace “faith” and “doctrine” with “values” as the essential element of Quakerism, so that’s that. “Content,” for many Friends, is subordinate to values, if not irrelevant, or even toxic.
Meanwhile, alongside my love of study, I have, I believe, a gift for teaching. I’ve taught religious and spiritual stuff on and off since I was a teenager, sometimes professionally, and often in Quaker circles. And I love it; it is very fulfilling, when I’m doing it well, and devastating when I’m not doing it well.
We Quakers fail, I think, to emphasize in our culture the joy one feels in expressing one’s spiritual gifts for a community that values them.
Do our communities value the gift of teaching?
Do our communities agree that you have to know your Quakerism to do it well?
If you want to play the cello well, you have to study the instrument and the music, and for that you need to be taught. Is Quakerism any different? Does your meeting have anyone with the gift of teaching or an interest in study? Does your meeting have any adult religious education programming? Does your meeting know what it’s doing, and is it doing it well?
Walt Whitman and Quakers
October 21, 2026 § 2 Comments
Walt Whitman is, on and off, my favorite poet. It’s been Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Snyder, Emily Dickinson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Wordsworth, Keats—but I keep coming back to Whitman. I think that “Song of Myself” is one of the great masterpieces of English-speaking literature; it’s very long and it has some mediocre sections, but some of it is truly transcendental.
And Whitman has strong Quaker connections. His mother and grandmother were Quakers. He grew up on Long Island and in Brooklyn in the midst of Quakers and was deeply influenced by Elias Hicks and late in life wrote an essay about him and George Fox.
And then yesterday, while continuing to work my way through Leaves of Grass, I read “An Old Man’s Thoughts of School: For the Inauguration of a Public School, Camden, New Jersey, 1874” :
An old man’s thought of school,
An old man gathering youthful memories and blooms that youth itself cannot.
Now only do I know you,
O fair auroral skies—O morning dew upon the grass!
And these I see, these sparkling eyes,
These stores of mystic meaning, these young lives,
Building, equipping like a fleet of ships, immortal ships,
Soon to sail out over the measureless seas,
On the soul’s voyage.
Only a lot of boys and girls?
Only the tiresome spelling, writing, ciphering classes?
Only a public school?
Ah, more, infinitely more;
(As George Fox rais’d his warning cry, “Is it this pile of brick and mortar, these dead floors, windows, rails, you call the church?
Why this is not the church at all—the church is living, ever living souls.”)
And you, America,
Cast you the real reckoning for your present?
The lights and shadows of your future, good or evil?
To girlhood, boyhood look, the teacher and the school.
Membership Decline Case Study, Part 5—Outreach Solutions
September 16, 2026 § Leave a comment
Solutions: Outreach
Let’s assume that your meeting has done the inreach. You are ready to welcome newcomers and have the three elements that will matter most in holding onto them initially: warm, welcoming fellowship, deep silence, and Spirit-led vocal ministry. How do you get newcomers in the first place?
I’ve prepared a Meeting Outreach Checklist, which I hope you will find useful.
Also, Friends General Conference has a lot of Resources for Outreach. Click that link and check it out.
And good luck!
Membership Decline Case Study, Part 4—Inreach Solutions
September 5, 2026 § 1 Comment
Solutions
We are in decline. Membership is falling, some individual meetings are on the verge of dissolving, charitable giving is flat, while our costs are steadily rising. But this structural decline is only part of the story. I fear that we are declining spiritually as well.
This is a perennial complaint of white-hairs like me. John Woolman recounted such a complaint from an elder in the very early 1700s. And I bet it was true.
When’s the last time your meeting for worship was gathered in the Spirit? Are you getting Spirit-led vocal ministry? Do you have a lot of attenders who only come to meeting for worship?
The good news is that we’ve also been through periods of renewal, usually at the hands of young adult Friends. Cases in point are the emergence of programmed worship and pastoral meetings in the 1870s and ‘80s, the emergence of the liberal Quaker movement in the late 19th century, the growth of meetings in college towns in the 1950s and ‘60s, and the revitalization of our witness life during the 20th century’s wars.
I believe that renewal in our own time will come from the Holy Spirit. That is, it will depend on Friends called to the ministry of renewal. Are you so called? And it will take two forms: effective in-reach and meaningful outreach.
It WILL NOT come from restructuring our meetings. I served on New York Yearly Meeting’s first Renewal Committee in the early 1990s. The yearly meeting has since then convened no fewer than six more formal efforts focused on meeting structure; all failures. Real renewal comes from God.
In this post, let’s look at in-reach. In the next post, we’ll look at outreach.
In-reach
Holding onto visitors
I believe that newcomers to our meetings decide to stay when they get at least some of these three elements of meeting life:
- True fellowship of the Spirit—a warm personal welcome, including especially, for young families, childcare and First Day School already waiting for them; not necessarily already with kids, but adults prepared to welcome any families who show up.
- Spirit-led vocal ministry—messages that speak to the yearning that brought those visitors to us in the first place with their hopes for an experience that answers that of God within them, messages delivered with discipline and integrity and genuine spiritual inspiration.
- A living silence—achievable only through the presence of a critical mass of spiritually mature members holding the meeting in grace.
Holding onto newcomers
Once visitors become attenders, they need more than just a welcome and the meeting for worship. They need to know that there’s a there here. This means visible and regular efforts at spiritual nurture—a vital culture of eldership.
- Does your meeting have a committee or at least individuals who proactively pay attention to newcomers, inquiring about their lives and spiritual interests?
- Do you have adult religious education or other programs that introduce them to the Quaker way, and especially about Quaker worship and vocal ministry?
- Do you inquire into newcomers’ spiritual gifts and interests?
- Do you invite their participation in things besides committee work (though that, too)?
Membership
- Do you regularly announce and explain the process for becoming a member and invite newcomers to consider applying, in a general way?
- Do you approach individual newcomers when you think they might be ready?
- In your clearness committees for membership, do you try to identify the applicant’s spiritual gifts (not just what committees they might want to serve on), and try to identify their ministries—whatever they are doing in their lives that they could see as Spirit-led service? Do you explore their spiritual interests, what kind of spiritual formation and nurture they might welcome?
- And after people become members, do you follow through with focused personal mentoring and support on the things you’ve discovered in their clearness committee?
The culture of eldership
- Do your committees, especially adult and youth RE (you have them, right?) and worship and ministry committees—do they regularly consider how to foster deeper vocal ministry, how to support leadings and ministries, how to nurture individual members and attenders in their spiritual lives?
- Do you know how to conduct clearness committees for personal decision making and the discernment of leadings, and regularly announce their availability?
- Do you hold discussion groups and worship sharing opportunities around aspects of the Quaker way and any issues the meeting may be currently facing?
- For the newcomers who do not attend meeting for business and/or your programs, are you willing to use the meeting for worship itself as a venue for these kinds of spiritual nurture? Or are you treating the meeting for worship as a fixed outward form and as a sacred cow that can’t be experimented with?
Membership Decline Case Study, Part 3—The Money
September 1, 2026 § 4 Comments
Donations per member
Before I began this study, I thought that, in addition to a steady decline in membership, the giving by the members we do have was also declining. But that’s not quite the case.
As you can see from the chart below, until the last decade or so, donations by membership actually kept pace with expenses, even though the expenses curve has been rising. In fact, expenses rose relatively steeply from the mid-1970s to roughly 1992, but donations kept up. In 1992, expenses leveled off some, then they rose a bit around 2001, and then they leveled off again around 2004.
Meanwhile, donations per adult member kept up through that first stable period, but couldn’t quite match the upturn in expenses between 2001 and 2004. Then, beginning with the Great Recession in 2008, donations began a slow decline that had not stopped by 2020, while expenses remained fairly stable for a while.
Until 2014. Around then, the expenses curve turns chaotic. Expenses rose very steeply and spiked dramatically in 2019 and then crashed in 2020. Meanwhile, all through that period donations remained flat. I suspect that the pandemic caused the crash in expenses in 2020. But I’m not close enough to the yearly meeting anymore to explain what was going on during that last period.
In this period since 2014, the yearly meeting apparently made up the difference with its annual general appeals, with its investments, and with other income. I’m no finance expert, but it looks like a dramatic increase in the value of investments in that period helped to fund the dramatic increases in total income while donation income remained flat.
As this disparity between income and expenses becomes more obviously a threat for some yearly meetings, they will have to make increasingly severe cuts in their budgets. Some of these cuts will necessarily fall upon staff, as they already have in Philadelphia YM, as I know, and reduced staff is not likely to reverse membership decline or increase charitable giving. It’s a feedback loop.
What’s a yearly meeting to do? I’ll think about that in the next post.
Membership Decline Case Study, Part 2—The Data
September 1, 2026 § Leave a comment
Members
As I said in the previous post, New York Yearly Meeting membership has been declining since the Orthodox and Hicksite yearly meetings reunited in 1955.

The broad conclusions are as follows. In the 66 years from 1955 through 2021, NYYM membership declined by 3,342 members, from 6395 to 3,053, or 52.3%. As you can see from the chart above, the decline began around 1970 and may have started leveling off a bit beginning around 2003. As you can see from the second chart below, the trendline, if it holds, reaches 0 members in 2056.

Yearly meeting appointments
When I was active in the yearly meeting from the 1980s through the late 2010s, yearly meeting session attendance—people actually in the room for business meetings, rarely got above 120, roughly 3% or so of total membership. If that percentage of active Friends holds, the yearly meeting will have only 50 people doing its business by around 2035, less than ten years from now. In 2020, the yearly meeting had 49 committees or other bodies to which members were appointed and more than 400 appointments that were filled on paper. You can do the math.
Factors
Removals. Unfortunately, I don’t have data for 1973 through 1985, which latter year is about when I joined. But I remember that in the late 1980s into the early 2000s, meetings became more resolved to remove folks from their rolls because the yearly meeting used a membership formula to calculate requests for contributions from the quarterly meetings, and meetings were then paying for “members” whom they never saw and/or who lived away from their area. I don’t remember when the quota practice was dropped, but I suspect that trying to reduce their covenantal commitment was a factor in the number of removals from membership that made the membership decline curve steeper in that period than later.
Resignations. In addition, in this same period, lots of Christ-centered Friends left the yearly meeting as individual meetings and then the yearly meeting itself gradually came to a new testimony regarding marrying same sex couples—another factor in the decline.
Meetings
Lets look at the number of meetings instead of the number of members. For this I’m comparing 2012 and 2021.
The number of meetings declined in this period from 63 to 61, losing three and gaining one. But the more important figures lie in the number of very small meetings.
In 2012, NYYM had 8 meetings with membership at 10 or less, with an average membership of 6.6, representing 12.7% of all meetings. NYYM had 9 meetings with between 11 and 20 members with an average membership of 16.1, representing 14.3% of all the meetings. Thus 27.0% of NYYM’s meetings had 20 or fewer members
In 2021, NYYM had nine meetings with 10 or fewer members, with an average membership of 5.2, representing 14.8% of all meetings—an increase from 2012 of 2.1%. Twelve meetings had between 11 and 20 members, with an average membership of 16.8, representing 19.7% of all meetings. Thus 34.4% of NYYM’s meetings had 20 or fewer members—more than a third. That’s a 7.4% increase since 2012.
Meeting summary: In the nine years between 2012 and 2021, NYYM lost a net two meetings, but the number of small meetings (20 and fewer members) increased by 7.4%. Meetings with 17 or so members (the average for meetings with 11 to 20 members) will hang on for a while, but they are likely to lose members, as the increase in the number of meetings with 10 members or less indicates. Meetings with just five members are probably in real trouble.
Quaker Membership Decline—A Case Study
September 1, 2026 § Leave a comment
In an earlier series of posts which I titled Quaker-pocalypse, I talked about three curves that I thought were converging for Quaker meetings and institutions with potentially catastrophic consequences. These trends are: declining membership, declining donations from the members we do have, and rising fixed institutional costs. When the first two curves crossed the third, I expected that meetings—meaning, mostly, yearly meetings—would have to radically restructure themselves or they would collapse.
I’ve made a case study of New York Yearly Meeting (NYYM) to study these factors and trends. I chose NYYM because I know it well; I was a member for decades and was its communications director for several years, and in that role I wrote its annual reports, so I’m very familiar with its data-keeping format. Also, NYYM’s records are kept in the Quaker collection at Swarthmore College, which is easily accessible for me. Furthermore, NYYM’s Orthodox and Hicksite yearly meetings reunited in 1955, which provides a clean starting point for the data. My data field thus extends from 1955 through 2020/2021.
The results surprised me some. Membership has been steadily declining, and maybe more important, the number of monthly meetings that are inching toward collapse has been accelerating. The rate of giving by members to their meetings is more complicated, but shows a troubling trend over the last twenty years, especially when compared to fixed expenses.
In the next post, I look at the membership figures.
Matthew 18:20 and the Gathered Meeting—Timeframes #2
August 20, 2026 § Leave a comment
What Was Matthew trying to say?
RECAP: I’ve been exploring in recent posts the various levels of intention and meaning in Matthew 18:14–20, and especially Jesus’s promise to guarantee the church’s authority in dealing with conflict in the church with his “presence” in verse 20, from which we get the phrase “gathered meeting”. In this and in the previous post, I’m looking at the passage from the perspective of the timeframes in which we could read it: in the time of Jesus, in the time of Matthew, and in our own time.
Matthew writes for a community that believed in Jesus’s resurrection, or at least for a community that he feels should believe, one that perhaps needs reassurance. Matthew’s account of the resurrection, with its posted guards and the chief priests’ cover up of the event with the disinformation that the disciples had stolen Jesus’s body, seems designed to counter rumors to that effect, especially since neither Luke nor John mention this story.
So, like us, Matthew and his readers could have thought that Jesus in 18:20 might have been speaking about gatherings taking place after his death, that he might be promising to appear among them as the resurrected Christ somehow.
However, there’s no hint of such a projection in time in the actual wording of the passage; it seems very present tense. Jesus doesn’t say “there I will be” in your midst; he says “there I am.”
And the passage might be a part of Q, the collection of sayings from which Matthew and Luke drew to add sayings material to their narrative gospels. Furthermore, Matthew 18:14–20 is in the instruction form of Q sayings, like much of the Sermon on the Mount. These instruction sayings formed the original core of Q, according to some scholars. That instruction core may be the earliest look we have at the very early Jesus movement.
On the other hand, Matthew 18:14–20 sits in the middle of a whole chapter on the theme of forgiveness in a tone that might suggest a milieu in which Jesus’s followers are facing the problems of a mature community dealing with managing members’ behavior. Like the 1660s and’70s in the history of the Quaker movement with its beginnings of “gospel order”, rather than the wild and sometimes chaotic 1650s.
I think that this reinforces the conclusion that Matthew is giving us a Q saying that comes out of the living ministry of Jesus and is not necessarily a projection into the future of a promise of a resurrection presence. But he’s put this material together in a way that speaks in a coherent way to the concerns of his own community.
At the same time, Matthew 18:20, with its use of some kind of “name” theology, is hinting at a more mystical, or metaphysical, dimension that reflects the reality of Jesus’s death and the hope of the resurrection.
So we’ll dive into that “name theology” in the next post.
