Joy & Gratitude

A man walks into his church. In the course of conversation with his pastor, he shares that his son has become Quaker. His pastor smiles broadly and retorts, “What committee is he on?”

A young man is having dinner with his new boss at the boss’s house. During dinner the bosses’ wife inquires about his religion. “I walk a Quaker path,” the young man replied. At this the woman was at first astonished, then befuddled, and after a brief hesitation blurted out, “But you seem happy…”

I laugh every time I think of these moments. I was the son in the first and the new hire in the second. I also remember an Italian friend telling me she was surprised at all the jokes I made and yet I was Quaker. I asked why those two would be in conflict. She replied that in Italy if someone is being too serious, they say “Don’t be a Quaker.” The fact that I enjoy my life seemed to explode her view of Quakers.

I bring these up because they are stereotypes and yet there is some truth lurking in the shadows of these stories.

I love walking a Quaker path. I love so many people who share this path. Yet, sometimes our desire to remake the world makes us a little grumpy, a little too serious. We can be overwhelmed by all the things there are to do and to fix. And, amazingly, we have committees for all of them!

Sometimes I reflect on the moment that I first felt God deeply in my heart. I was so overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. Honestly, I cried. No, I didn’t cry, I sobbed. Sometimes, when I pray or meditate and the presence sweeps over me, tears run down my face. I can’t help it. I’m just so grateful to feel the presence. The world is suddenly Technicolor. I can feel the air vibrating with all the possibilities of the creation. It’s a miracle to live in those brief flashes when it happens. I would love for it to happen more often.

I share this simply to say that for me Joy & Gratitude are the foundations of my practice. I wish I could say I practiced this way all the time. In fact, I forget. Often, I get too serious. I want to fix too many things. Occasionally, I remind myself that I don’t have to do anything. In fact, doing nothing can actually be the most important thing that I do. In that moment of doing nothing, I’m open to the presence and all striving ceases. On a really good day, all thought ceases. At times, I reflect on this and realize that in those moments all I did was breath the sacred air that we all share. We all breathe. We are all one united in breath.

In the moment of gratitude and cessation, when all doing stops we actually achieve so much of what we are trying to achieve. There is no war when we are still. Nothing is taken from another. We do not transgress against our brother in any way. We’re still and yet we are fully with one another. It’s its own little miracle. This happens when we are in a meeting for worship or when we pray by ourselves. We’re still and yet, with the breath, sharing the world.

At times, I feel like, as Quakers, we become lost in our social activism. It comes first, before stillness. I’m not speaking against activism. Not at all. What I’m advocating is activism grounded in joy and gratitude. Activism grounded in a Technicolor vision of what the world actually is…the continuous unfolding of sacred intention. The world is life itself, the desire to exist, to create, to breathe. Imagine the dynamism of a Society dedicated, not to fixing the problems of the world, but to creating infinitely from our passionate mystical faith. Imagine living your life each day from a core of joy because you can feel the beauty of the unfolding envelope you. Imagine a daily practice that helps you be in this place and in the world simultaneously.

Now imagine what happens when that practice is shared among all those who are seeking to experience the presence.

When enough people are still there will be no war. There will be nothing that must be done. There will be nothing to fight against. There will only be what we wish to share and create. We will be in the world and the world will be in us.

In that moment, we will indeed “live in the power that takes away all occasion for war,” as George Fox said.

To see the change we wish to see in the world, we must invite our brothers and sisters all across the world to share the sacred air with us, to be still, to breath, to let go. Then we will see the possibilities that we are born share, to create.

As those who choose to walk a Quaker path, our mysticism, our experience of joy and gratitude, is one of the first steps towards creating the world we seek. What exists within exists without.