A Friendly Letter, The Blog.

March 10 — how could I forget? How dare I fail to remember.

Four years and four months ago, John Stephens and I began a blog site called freethecaptivesnow.org , as both a personal vigil and a community service, compiling and posting nightly updates of reports — or mostly the lack of reports — about the fate of four… peaceworkers kidnapped in Iraq. They had been taken in Baghdad, and one of them, Tom Fox, was a Quaker and a friend of both John and me.

Tom Fox, in his red Christian Peacemaker Teams ball cap, in Palestine between tours in Iraq.

After those long weeks of uncertainty, it was this day, March 10, 2006 when we learned the worst: that Tom Fox had been murdered, his body found dumped in a vacant lot in that war-torn city.

About two weeks later, the other three: James Loney of Canada, Harmeet Sooden of New Zealand, and Norman Kember from England, were freed by British commandos. John and I then laid down our nightly vigil.

A collection of photos and tributes is still online here.

“Every night of those thirteen weeks, either John or I would scan dozens of wire service reports for news of Tom and the others, and post what we
found: with only a few exceptions, the news was “no news.”

The exceptions were when the gloomy videos of the four – and then, on March 7, 2006 the three, minus Tom – were released.

An ad placed in Arabic newspapers, appealing for the captives’ release.

Here, to mark this occasion, is an excerpt from the Introduction I wrote to a short book of remembrance, “Tom Fox Was My Friend. Yours, Too.” It speculates on why he was killed:

On March 10 came the dispatch we dreaded most: confirmation of Tom’s murder. (Early reports that he had been tortured were not confirmed by a
later autopsy.) The only relief from this loss appeared on March 23, when the other three captives were freed.

Who killed Tom? And why? Few other than the ones who pulled the trigger know the truth, and one wonders how much even they understand.

Speculation abounds, of course, with many of my more left-leaning friends imagining a CIA-sponsored conspiracy to silence these noisy pacifist dissenters.

Yet from the reading and interviews I have done, however, the most likely guess seems much more mundanely sordid: it was all about money.

The videos showing Tom and the others were issued by a previously unknown group, “the Swords of Righteousness Brigades.” This name is very likely a fake, a cover for a criminal gang, which simply kidnaped them for ransom. There is, as John and I learned while keeping our vigil, a sizeable kidnaping industry in Iraq. Many Iraqis have been thus abducted for profit, as well as citizens of numerous other countries.

The four CPT captives; Tom Fox is second from right.

James Loney felt the ransom was wanted to help finance the guerilla insurgency. Many other observers feel that while the kidnapers are Muslims, and many have likely suffered from the invasion and occupation, these crimes appear to be only loosely connected to religious or political grievances. Rather, they are more a specimen of organized crime in a devastated and lawless society.

From this “profit-seeking” perspective, taking CPT team members was not a particularly good “investment”: the group has pledged not to pay, and not to ask anyone else to. Moreover, none of the four had a personal fortune to plunder. But the gang likely figured that regardless of such brave declarations, given enough pressure, someone would eventually cave in and pay. (Harmeet Sooden later told a New Zealand press conference that he suspected a ransom had been paid for
him and the other survivors, despite vehement government denials.)

But if the kidnapers were after money, why kill Tom? There are a number of hypotheses:

One, to show the friends and supporters of the other three that the kidnapers meant business. Some other hostage killings – for instance, that of longtime relief worker Margaret Hassan, an Iraqi citizen originally from Ireland – were evidently staged to show recalcitrant governments that ransom demands were life and death matters.

Or two: because Tom was an American, and as a veteran had a US military ID card, he was a certified “enemy,” and one for whom the US government would not pay. That made him worth less and disposable.

Or three: if the kidnapers couldn’t get ransom from Tom’s family or government, maybe they recouped something by selling Tom to another Iraqi insurgent gang, one willing to pay for the privilege of shooting a military-identified American. (It is all-too easy to imagine their derision at his protests that he was a musician, not a fighter.)

Again, no one knows, but these are plausible explanations for the inexplicable. . . .”

All the quotes below are from sources that Tom was familiar with:

George Fox:

“Be patterns, be examples in every country, place, or nation that you
visit, so that your bearing and life might communicate with all
people. Then you’ll walk cheerfully across the earth answering that
of God in everyone. So that you will be seen as a blessing in their
eyes and you will receive a blessing from that of God within them.”

From the Epistle to the Hebrews, 13:3:
“Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with
them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were
being tortured.”

From the Qur’an, 11:20:
“And all that We relate to you of the news of the Messengers is in
order that We may make strong and firm your heart thereby.

12:111:
Indeed in their stories there is a lesson for men and women of
understanding.”

From the Tao Te Ching:

“Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water, yet nothing can better
overcome the hard and strong, for they can neither control nor do
away with it. The soft overcomes the hard, the yielding overcomes the
strong. Everyone knows this, but who can practice it?”

What’s All the Buzz About??

Basic Quaker Theology For Younger Friends

Recently a young Friend told me about a church which is near her home. She has high school friends who go there, and they’ve invited her to visit.

They’ve also been asking her about what Quakers believe, and how that might differ from what they believe there, or in other churches.

These are reasonable questions, but this young Friend had trouble answering.

The thing is, she hasn’t really been taught much about either of these topics: the basics of Quaker beliefs, or the basics of what more “orthodox” Christian churches believe.

I’ve heard of similar incidents, where younger (and some older) Friends were left feeling puzzled or embarrassed when asked such questions. And in our highly churched society, such questions come up a lot.

I looked around for a book to help her cope with these questions. Something short and focused, and meant for younger Quakers.

Didn’t find anything.

So I wrote this 40-page booklet, What’s The Password For Jesus? Quaker FAQs for Younger Friends.

It covers 24 FAQs, including:

Q. What About The Bible?
Q. What About Jesus?
Q. What Does “The Son of God” Mean?
Q. What About “Sin”?
Q. What’s A “Personal Relationship With Jesus”? Do I Need One?
Q. What About Hell?
Q. How Are Liberal Quaker Beliefs Different?
Q. How Do I Know If I’m Really A Quaker?

The answers are concise, contemporary, and of course, non-creedal. They offer a beginning in learning about Quaker beliefs, the Bible, and Jesus. My hope is they can help younger Friends (maybe some older ones, too) think about and handle such questions better. At the end there’s a short list of more books for followup.

Seems to me “What’s The Password For Jesus?” could be of use in high school RE work, at least I hope so.

Copies are available from Kimo Press for $3.95 plus $2.00 shipping. Five or more copies are $3.00 each, plus $1.00 each shipping. The address is: Kimo Press, P.O. Box 1344, Fayetteville NC 28302. (Bookstores, inquire about trade discounts.)

So.

The registration info for the 2010 Young adult Friends (YAF) Conference in Wichita is now online.

As a preliminary, there’s a two-page statements of “expectations” and rules. The complete text is below. But some particular items deserve special attention, and I wonder what others think of them.

I won’t be shy about my reactions. Some sections are no big problem, e.g.:

<< Our minds and hearts will be entirely open to God’s work . . .>>
Okay; a boilerplate bromide, but sure, whatever.

<< We will show love and support in ways that are comfortable to those around us. >>
Of course. Live & let live; do unto others . . . .

But a lot of the rest of it is problematic. Very problematic.

If this were a group of minors, high-schoolers, sure. In such situations, and I’ve been there often, you definitely need specific rules, with enforcement; you have to steer clear of the liability hazards. And those responsible need to keep the lid on. Got it.

But these folks are all allegedly “adults,” as old as 35. And while the statement says << these guidelines don’t come from a place of legalism >> I’m sorry: a dress code (!?) that specifically forbids speedos sounds legalistic to me. It’s also hardly “balanced,” when it makes no mention of crosses, or WWJD tees.

And what is this? << We will not let sexuality disrupt, distract or divide us. >>

Oh, yeah? I am reliably informed that at the 2008 conference this meant that all discussion of LGBTQ issues was “off the table,” period. Well, that’s sure distracting to me, not to mention divisive. I mean oppressive. And legalistic as hell (Oops, my bad: << We will use respectful language, avoiding profanity. )>>
Fager: FAIL. (Do I get three strikes?)

And for the next one, the italics are in the original:
<< We will abstain from sexual activity, including within committed relationships. >>

In public, sure. Even us liberal Quakes are pretty hard-core about that.

But behind closed doors, between committed adult partners?

Forgive me, but what is up with that?

And just how is this ban to be monitored and enforced? I gather that last time, the committed couples were broken up for the nonce. However the monitoring is to be done this time, they’re not kidding, because the statement makes clear that << If you are unable to function within the specific guidelines in italics below, you will be asked to leave the conference . . . >>

Boundaries are one thing; we all deal with those. But a no-sex-and-no-speedos list for adults — disclaimers aside, that is way over the legalistic top for me.

And there’s more: << We will speak to each other in a way that glorifies God. >>

Am I the only one that sees the unacknowledged theological bias and baggage bulging from practically every syllable of this?

Ditto for << We will remember that our actions . . . reflect on us as young people, as Friends, and as members of the Body of Christ.>>

Hmmmm. That sentence jangles when I look back to read that << Our goal is that this conference will be a welcoming place for all Friends. >> (Bold in the original.)

I’ll skip the wisecracks about those who can’t live without their tank tops (thee knows who thee are.) But what of the Friends who don’t consider themselves part of “the body of Christ”? And what about those who are dubious or definitely apart from the “God” part?

How welcome are they supposed to feel? Or where do the theists fit in who are not sure whether they can “glorify” a God that has the checkered past of the One who messed with Job, allowed the Holocaust(s), and so many other seeming missteps?

Frankly, it seems obvious to me that large swathes of important discourse among Friends today, and significant segments of the Quaker constituency, are definitely and deliberately being LEFT OUT — no, forced out, made invisible, and suppressed by this model. (Do I have to smile when I say that?)

Yeah, overall the whole thing leaves me feeling a little queasy, and grateful that I’m too old to qualify for the event.

Instead, I think I’ll just stay home, and wrestle with God some (I’m especially miffed about that Haiti and Chile business if you really wanna know, and I may use more than a little profanity when we get to the part about the dead babies in the rubble). Then I’ll chat openly and affirmatively with my non-Christian and non-theist Friends; God doesn’t mind them, so why should I?

I’m also keen to talk about how US Christians, evangelicals especially, can help to bust up the plans for a kill-the-gays law in Uganda — but of course, in a non-distracting, non-disruptive, and non-divisive way. Well; that should be easy enough, right?. Somewhere along the line I might have some committed sex (okay, okay, in private); and since in late May it should be plenty warm, maybe I’ll even bare my chest a bit to chill out.

Perhaps I’ll also sit a spell on the porch, in this state of deshabille, and re-read Chapter One of my book, “Without Apology,” which describes another cross-branch Quaker conference in Wichita, in 1977, when many of us struggled to open things up, especially for those Friends who were non-heterosexual, and those who questioned conventional Christianity. Then, as I said, we labored to open things up; what I see here looks more like agreeing to close things down.

I wish I could say reading and reflecting on these “community expectations” for adult Friends in 2010 made me proud of those who put them together; but I can’t. To speak plainly, they appall me.

How bad is it? This bad: it makes me want to go buy a speedo.

Here’s the whole text, FYI:

2010 Young Adult Friends Gathering in Wichita
Bearing Witness to the Word Among Us: Witness, Testimony, and Transformation
Expectations for Community

As Friends we come from a tradition that has long emphasized that our entire lives are changed by our encounter with God. We now have different expectations as to what the out-ward signs of a changed life are, and this reality becomes evident when we are suddenly living together in close proximity with strangers from other branches of Friends. How can we create a safer space where young adult Friends can focus on worshipping the living God and learning from each other? How do we remove distractions to this experience? Our goal is that this conference will be a welcoming place for all Friends.

We’ll need clear boundaries, self-discipline, and accountability to each other. At the 2008 Young Adult Friends Conference in Richmond, Indiana, Friends followed a brief list of guidelines which are the basis for what we expect of each other at this gathering. We want to be sure that Friends understand that these guidelines don’t come from a place of legalism, but are meant to build a healthy community at the conference. The underlying goal of each guideline is shown below to clarify this.

Some young adult Friends may find these unusually restrictive, while others will wonder why we even have to spell them out. All of us will probably be taken a little out of our comfort zones during the conference, but that’s also part of building an inclusive and respectful gathering.

All of these commitments are in harmony with Friends’ traditional understanding of holy living and respect for others. Remember that there will be a Pastoral Care Team available for you to talk to about any concerns you have.

We do have to hold each other accountable. If you are unable to function within the specific guidelines in italics below, you will be asked to leave the conference at your own expense.
See next page for expectations for community>

Expectations for Community:
Our minds and hearts will be entirely open to God’s work within us.
We will abstain from alcohol and other intoxicants, wherever we are, for the duration of our time together.
We will not let sexuality disrupt, distract or divide us.
We will abstain from sexual activity, including within committed relationships.
We will dress modestly. This means not wearing tank tops, sleeveless or low cut dresses or tops, midriffs showing, skirts or shorts above mid thigh, bikinis, speedos, or bare chests.
We will speak to each other in a way that glorifies God.
We will use respectful language, avoiding profanity.
We will show love and support in ways that are comfortable to those around us.
We will avoid showing physical affection without asking. Every person has different levels of com- fort about touch.
We will be grateful and respectful of our hosts.
We will abide by the guidelines of Friends University.
We will remember that our actions towards Friends University, University Friends Meeting, and the people of Wichita reflect on us as young people, as Friends, and as members of the Body of Christ.

There was an amazing post yesterday on the pitfalls of “mysticism” and pop occultism, by the always enlightening human rights attorney Scott Horton. It’s on his always worthwhile “No Comment” blog at the Harpers magazine site.

It makes points that ought to give many Quaker aficionados of that “mystic” path pause, an occasion to take off their fog-tinted spectacles and see the phenomenon more plainly in the light of history and social context.

Scott Horton

Horton’s usual topic is torture and accountability. But he’s also done much legal work in central Asia, in the many former Soviet republics about which Americans (including me) know almost nothing.

Today’s post was about a new biography by British writer James Palmer, of a strangely remarkable (and abhorrent) Baltic nobleman-mystic by the name of Baron Roman von Ungern-Sternberg, who led something of a “Lawrence-of-Arabia”-like struggle of the Mongolians against the Chinese at the time if the Russian Revolution.

Biographer James Palmer

Never mind the war and all that. Horton’s key exchange with author Palmer concern’s Ungern’s strange (but in many ways familiar) religious attitudes. Here it is:

Horton: You describe Ungern-Sternberg as a religious mystic who could be just as much at home in his native Lutheranism, in the Russian Orthodox church, or in Mongol-Tibetan Buddhism, but who was nonetheless a flaming anti-Semite. What produced these seemingly contradictory attitudes?

Palmer: Religious mysticism has never been incompatible with ethnic or religious hatred; the Byzantine eremites and stylites [desert hermit monks], for instance, would often spout the vilest anti-Semitic bilge from their caves and pillars. It’s a little like the Tom Lehrer lines from National Brotherhood Week–
“the Catholics hate the Protestants,
and the Protestants hate the Catholics,
and the Hindus hate the Muslims,
and everybody hates the Jews.”

There wasn’t, of course, any native tradition of anti-Semitism in the Asian religions that fascinated Ungern, but he saw them through the lens of the European occult heritage, which has a long and ugly streak of anti-Semitism in it; it’s all over Blavatsky and Aleister Crowley, for instance. This is partially the common-or-garden[variety] prejudice of Europe, at the time, and partially because of the obsession with conspiracies and secret powers, which lent itself well to anti-Jewish paranoia and fantasies of ritual murder, especially when you had material like the “Protocols” being produced. If you look at the popularity of The Da Vinci Code today, it’s the same phenomenon, only with Catholicism swapped out for Judaism (tapping on a very old and nasty legacy of fantasies about Catholicism in Protestant countries, but that’s another issue.)

The occult tradition also misappropriated several Jewish traditions, like qabala, and so, I think, there was some kind of need to discredit the people they’d stolen from. Then there’s that peculiar alliance between occultism and the right, because the right at the time was all about elitism, about the need for a small group that could control the wild masses, and that slotted in very well with occult thinking, which was all about special powers and secret groups of initiates. It’s not occult if everybody knows about it, after all. >>

Mysticism? For War?

Mysticism and ethnic/religious hatred? Mysticism and war? Mysticism anti-Semitism? Mysticism and an affinity for the authoritarian right?
But– but — how could this be connected in any way to our many fond memories of Jones & Brinton & Kelly & all the rest?

Well, when a closer, unsentimental look is taken, there’s lots to be learned here that will be as unsettling as some of the things US Quakers have recently had the chance to learn about the holes in our vaunted (mainly by us) “progressive” record on racial issues.

[Sigh.] Yes. It’s time, Friends, to wake up and smell the history.
Mysticism doesn’t have to be a ticket to the crazy right. But it’s no guarantee of anything forward-looking once the devotees emerge from their ecstasies.

One could almost set one’s clock by it. Mention Quakers and class, and one will shortly be eldered, either by N. Jeanne Burns, or in my case, by her partner, Liz Oppenheimer.

This time it was Liz, who commented thus:

You [chuck Fager] write, in part: So my recommendation to those who wanna moan and groan about how terrible those awful expensive and elitist Quaker schools are, is to chill out and face the fact that the RSOF exists in a real world of class and wealth divisions. We didn’t make it, but we’re not free of it either. Again, maybe we can buff off some of the rougher edges; but remember the Shakers and the rest.

Liz:
It seems that whenever new Light is brought to a system that (unintentionally) oppresses or gives advantage to one group over another, those who have a fair amount of unearned power within that system will tell the Light-bearers to “chill,” “get over it,” or “this is the real world and it ain’t gonna change.”

If we are called to a radical witness, I don’t think God will be satisfied if we stop at “buffing off some of the rougher edges.”

Well, this evokes a number of responses. First off, if there is any “new light” in the statement I quoted, by a Friend who has discovered and is mightily offended by the class stratification manifested via expensive Quaker private schools — nope, I don’t see it.

The discovery is neither new (I myself have heard it for 40+ years, and know of even older, now-deceased Friends who heard it well before I did.) Nor is it enlightening, any more than the discovery that Friends have not always gotten along, and that divisions among us have fallen out along other predictable lines: urban-rural; white, and non-; pacifist and war-supporters; etc.

Such discoveries are, in my view, preliminaries for finding “new light,” and not evidence thereof. They are in the category of “water is wet” and “gee, soiled diapers smell.” And talking as if such divisions (or variations, if one wants not to be polarizing) are in themselves offensive is, to speak plainly, naive and unhelpful in light-seeking.

So the specimen comment my rant was aimed at does not qualify as “new light” in my view. And for that matter, I rather doubt that comment was really what Liz had in mind. Her partner Jeanne has a blog on Quakers and class, gives workshops and so forth, and focuses on the topic extensively. I suggest that Liz regards this work as the “new Light” being brought to Friends and is interpreting my rant as an attack on that.

But here is another occasion to chill, Liz. If and when I want to write critically of Jeanne’s writing on class, I’ll do it plainly, and cite chapter and verse. If you will review my track record, you know that’s what I do.

Liz goes on to speak of my rant a a specimen expression of “those who have a fair a fair amount of unearned power within that system . . . .”

This is interesting, and typically passive aggressive.

I’m calling you out on this, Liz: I believe you were talking about me, but lacked the “plainness” to say so. But how do you know I have “unearned” power? What kind of “power” am I supposed to have? And how much is a “fair amount”? “Fair” as in middling; or “fair” as in a just share? And within what “system”?

I suggest that you don’t know this, except by stereotyping and presumption, and that these are illegitimate. Further, such remarks are not much more than an inverse form of the “discounting” attributed to me: they amount to saying one needn’t take a challenge or criticism seriously, because any challenge or criticism is only a display of “unearned power” by one who benefits from oppression, or is an oppressor himself.

I suggest that such stereotyped reactions are a circular substitute for serious discourse, and a stopper to it. They are what we call here in eastern Carolina, “baloney.” (Or something more earthy.)

Yes, I know about the “privilege” I’m supposed to have being a white, straight, male. Some of that (not all) is real enough. But what’s at issue here is something more than that, and other than what can be attributed to “privilege.”

To clarify, let me suggest an alternate thesis:

The “system” I’m interested in here is the Religious Society of Friends. In that “system” I have one empirical measure of “power,” in my day job at a Quaker project. There I supervise three persons; but none of them, currently, are Friends, so that “power” is strictly limited. Nevertheless, such as it is, I affirm that it is earned, not unearned. I did not inherit the position; maintaining it depends on continuing diligent effort, not on endowment funds; my post, previously held by women, is not a male preserve. And my predecessors came from various social and class backgrounds, including several non-Friends.

Outside this very small arena, I control no Quaker grant funds, no Quaker jobs, no Quaker institutions. I’m on a few committees, but as a member, working by sense of the group, and by no means always getting my way. (Altho, for the sake of truth, it must be added that I’m acting Pro-tempore Clerk of a Monthly Meeting, average attendance six to eight.)

Perhaps what is being referred to here is not “power” but something else; that is, it appears that some things I have written or said have been widely heard or read, and some of them have had a certain impact. Such impact is informal. It is not “power,” but influence. And a couple of things need to be said about such “influence”:

First of all, it is not some automatic inheritance. There’s no Quaker pedigree here; I came in as an unknown young seeker, and have labored among Friends for some forty-four years, across the branches and in several countries. Many dues have been paid and many hard knocks taken, both outward and inward. If as a result any of my writing or speaking has influence, it is inaccurate, dismissive and disrespectful to describe it as “unearned,” and I call on you to quit describing it that way.

But secondly, “influence” is a very ambiguous thing, and this I know perhaps better than many. For while some might be favorably impressed by some writing or comment of mine, one can find those who are equally put off by them. So such “influence” can be as much a problem as as an asset. (But don’t cry for me, Argentina.)

Finally, because I urged some Friends like the one I quoted to quit whining (which, stated more baldly, was my advice), does that mean I believe talk of class is useless or unworthy?

Not at all. There is much to learn about class, both in and out of Quakerdom. For instance, one very thoughtful and provocative recent essay about our current class situation is this column by David Brooks in the New York Times. And no question, class divisions can be, and have been, harmful and oppressive.

But I stand by the affirmation that class, or social stratifications, are extremely persistent social phenomena, inside and outside Quakerdom. Yet they are not always immovable, nor impermeable. They can be more oppressive and hurtful, or less. Rough edges can be softened. Mobility can be promoted and encouraged. But there are likely to be tradeoffs and unanticipated results, as David Brooks tellingly outlines. And last but not least, they do not tell the whole story about either me, or Friends.

But can they be done away with, though? I might have almost thought it possible myself once. But you’ll have to show me, because that notion is like Santa Claus; I just don’t believe it, anymore. Can’t. Is that what “radical witness” is supposed to mean? Is that the “new Light”?

If so, count me unconvinced; not in principle, but by experience.

The reason why includes my reference to the Shakers and other communal groups. Liz’s comment did not address this point at all.

But history and experience do matter, Liz. Citing them is not to be lumped in as another telltale sign of “privilege.” Nor is skepticism.

Consider: Jesus’ followers formed perhaps the earliest recorded “classless” society and held “all things common,” according to the second chapter of the Book of Acts.

But this noble experiment lasted exactly four chapters: by Acts 6, there were factions squabbling — and a self-proclaimed elite (all men, of course) claiming the right to be set apart and above the rank and file. And a good case can be made that’s it’s been pretty much all downhill from there, church-wise.

Is that the end of the story? Not at all. Or maybe . . . .?

Jesus: Aroint thee, O Demon of Class! Begone, I say!”

Demon: Allright, I’ll go. But just thee wait — I’ll be back!

The American Friends Service Committee will soon be picking its new General Secretary. On its website, the date for submitting resumes is late in March. Presumably it will be a few months after that before a final selection is announced. My guess would be they’d want to make it in time for summer, so the new person could make a grand tour of yearly meetings and the FGC Gathering, to be introduced to Friends at large.

But if there is still a lot of grinding of wheels yet to be done, I don’t think it’s too early to handicap the process. In fact, I’m ready right now to predict the outcome.

I predict that the next General Secretary of the AFSC will be:

Clinton Pettus.

I first met Pettus a few years ago when he visited and spoke to Baltimore yearly Meeting. He was introduced then as the Diretor of the AFSC’s Mid-Atlantic regional office in Baltimore. Even then, I could see he was a likely candidate for elevation, and when he was soon moved up to the main office in Philadelphia, my antennae quivered ever more noisily.

A few months ago, Pettus joined the board of Wimington College, a small Quaker school in western Ohio. A college press release about his selection included lots of detail about his career. Here’s a snippet:

Pettus is deputy general secretary for programs of the American Friends Service Committee. . . .

In addition to his previous work as AFSC’s regional director and special assistant to the general secretary for restructuring, Pettus is a former vice president for academic affairs/provost and president at Cheyney University of Pennsylvania.

Also, he was a faculty member and college administrator at Virginia State University, where he served as a department chairperson, academic dean and vice president for administration.

Pettus is a certified trainer of managing conflict in the workplace and completed a management development program at Harvard University.

He holds a Ph.D. in personality psychology from the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign, Ill., and is a member of the Pendle Hill Board of Trustees and a former trustee of Wilmington (Del.) Friends School.

He also is a member of the Wilmington (Del.) Monthly Meeting.

The “restructuring” in his AFSC resume is a key word, in my view. AFSC has reportedly been reduced to about half its previous size by the impact of the economic crash, so whoever has been managing that difficult transition would either be the scapegoat for all the internal resentments it must have generated, or the most likely candidate to take the helm and complete it. My vote is for the latter.

Pettus also has many other apt qualifications: he’s black, a card-carrying Quaker, and has much executive experience at Cheyney University, a school started by Quakers over a century ago to educate freed blacks. And as a former college president, he must also have done a lot of fundraising, which will surely be a big part of the AFSC’s top job.

So that’s my prediction. We should know soon whether I’ve guessed right.

His task will be to renew and re-polish a very tarnished and battered brand.

No, no, not THAT one!

Awhile back I wrote about hearing a teenage Friend talk about being asked by “Christian” peers about what Quakers believe and how it differs from other Christian and “born again” groups — and how she didn’t know how to answer.

Well, this is a situation up with which I shall not put. So I’ve prepared a resource for this Friend and others, not only of that younger Friend’s generation but perhaps older ones as well who are flummoxed when confronted with such queries. This applies particularly to so-called “Liberal Friends” — thee knows who thee are.

And here it is, or a snippet thereof, from the cover:

“What’s The Password for Jesus?” is now at the printer. It will be back and available soon. Meantime, come back in a day or two and I’ll be posting various other snippets from it. Like this one . . . .

Q. Why Don’t I Know Much About Quakerism – Or Other Churches?

One, you’ve taken part in lots of Quaker activities, but not in anything like a “class” on Quakerism and its beliefs. I don’t think there’s been any such class for you to take. (There are several kinds of Quakers, and you’ve been raised among what are called “Liberal Quakers.” More about this as we go along.)

And two, you haven’t been taught about other churches and what they believe and do either.

If you think about it, not knowing much about these two things is bound to make it hard to explain Quakers, or figure out how they might be like – or different from – other groups.

But as you’re noticing, churches and religion are important to people around you. So it’s a good idea to get familiar enough to be able to explain your group, and understand at least a little about others. . . .

Like this one, maybe . . . ??

Drop City. Those were the days. Or were they?

So here’s what the record shows: levelling and communalism are very, very hard. And divisions of class and affluence are with us inside the RSOF as well as out. Sorry if this is hard to hear, but there it is. Maybe we can buff off some of the rough edges, but i don’t expect much more.

(Same goes for other churches, friend. There are fancy rich Catholic churches, and humble Roman mission chapels; etc.)

Quaker schools are an artifact of these stratifications.

Many of them have lots of money in the bank left by dead quakes, some going back a couple hundred years, to “help” lower-income Quaker kids enroll. even so, some Quaker parents get all resentful and huffy about that fact, saying such differentials shouldn’t exist, the schools are elitists, they shouldn’t be selective (at least as far as MY kids are concerned), yada yada.

I don’t get it. One of my daughters attended one of those very expensive Quaker schools, and she did it mostly on that “dead Quaker money,” because her parents didn’t have the $40K per year it took.

And I’ve known other modest-income families doing the same thing. Quietly, skilfully, getting their kids in on this Quaker “endowment,” and not letting the stratifiers see them sweat, or the complainers hear them whine.

You know something, speaking as one of those parents, it didn’t hurt me a bit to ask for & take those deceased Quakers’ dough. I mean, it’s what they left it for, right? I’d do it again in a New York minute.

As for the education she got, it was great in some ways, not so good in others; but no regrets.

And as far as being divisive for meetings, my view is it’s actually better if the schools are freestanding, like Sidwell School in DC. (Which, BTW, is not simply about wealth — hey, you want stratification, Mr. Sidwell has got stratification to burn! There it’s also about status; Al Gore’s kids went there; the Obama girls. And I think Amy Carter. Yet lots of other people with tons more money than those folks –but not their exalted status — couldn’t get in there to save their lives.
If that’s an intolerable offense to thee, well again, there it is.)

And actually, I’ve come to the view that maybe if your kid has to have a fulltime Secret Service detail to keep them from getting kidnapped, maybe a special school is not such an intolerable thing anyway; after all, did Sasha and Malia ask to become “high value targets” for terrorists? And do I want my grandkids going to a school that al Queda might want especially to bomb??

When they’re formally “under the care” of meetings, expensive schools too often becomes proxies and patsies for all kinds of other resentments, which waste time and fog up the light.

I could also go on a long rant about how too many Quake schools aren’t any more “Quaker” than the Quaker Oats Co. (neither started nor owned nor ever run by Quakes; pure marketing.)

But really, folks, their vacant “Quaker values” are no more than a reflection of the theological vacancy of much of the larger RSOF. Dig it. You want better? Better do it yourself.

And anyway, the schools don’t OWN Quakerism. One can ignore them and do just fine.

Besides, a funny thing happened on the way to the Self-righteousness Forum: here in our little meeting in Fayetteville NC, a guy shows up a year or so ago, really kind of a lost soul looking for a spiritual community, and we somehow filled the bill. But why, with 300+ other churches in our county to choose from did he come here?

Simple: about a million years ago, he went to Oakwood Friends School, up in New York’s Hudson Valley. It’s not the fanciest of the lot, but it’s up there. He didn’t learn much about “Quakerism” at the place. But something got under his skin there, which took awhile to come to the surface.

I expect there are other such stories. In fact I know there are.

So my recommendation to those who wanna moan and groan about how terrible those awful expensive and elitist Quaker schools are, is to chill out and face the fact that the RSOF exists in a real world of class and wealth divisions. We didn’t make it, but we’re not free of it either. Again, maybe we can buff off some of the rougher edges; but remember the Shakers and the rest.

In any case, now I’m running into this at the next level: Nearing “retirement” age, I can see that there are also lots of Quaker retirement communities, and — surprise, surprise! — they vary in cost and amenities along similar stratified lines of wealth and class, and most of them I will never EVER be able to afford.

Well. So I can spend my time in these remaining years being all huffy and resentful about this. Or I can say, “So freaking what?” and get on with my own stuff, work things out the best I can, and be happy with what I’ve got.

After all, I’ve lately begun to notice that in even the fanciest upper-class cemeteries, the rich folks there are just as dead as the nameless paupers in the county graveyard.

Now THERE is some serious equality for you. Wonder who thought that one up?

I’m increasingly troubled by the repetition of anti-institutional slogans in what is sometimes called “emergent” Quaker circles and conversations. Much of this, in my reading, consists of about one per cent of insight, that’s being puffed up like a bit of rubber into a big-looking balloon of empty hot air.

Some of this talk comes from younger Friends, who appear uneasy facing the seemingly endless array (or dead weight) of Quaker institutions. (”Institution” here refers to an organization which has existed for at least 40 years; it will often, but not always, have paid staff.)

Young adult Friends are entitled to feel nervous about all this alphabet soup, which constitutes perforce “The Quaker Establishment” (even if its gray-haired stewards still secretly think of ourselves as the radicals we thought we were forty-plus years ago). Such initial discomfort is part of growing up.

Further, among these younger Friends there may be (and if my prayers are answered there will be) some few who have the vision and gumption to push past us Geezers in Grey and turn their unease into something new and exciting, which can make its mark — and likely endure until its founders join our weathered ranks.

However, many of these complaints are distressingly vague and generalized, dissing “Quaker institutions” in general or as a body. And here is where I start to have trouble with them, for some specific reasons:

First, such generalized complaints are likely to be as false as they are true. That’s because actual “Quaker Institutions” in the real world are not all bad — and in any case they are unavoidable.

Consider: the fact that any of us today can be having this conversation is due in very large measure to Quaker institutions which have preserved and transmitted to us the basics of Quaker history and documents which are the basis for our arguments about them. Like it or lump it, there it is.

A not-so humble example: John Woolman’s Journal is close to holy writ for many Friends, myself not least. But we are able to have a clear view of what Woolman wrote ONLY because of the dedicated labor of an institution called the Friends Historical Library, on the campus of Swarthmore College in PA, where the original hand-written copy thereof has been lovingly preserved.

(I have seen this Quaker Holy Grail on several occasions, even come close enough to make out the handwriting on the small, Ipod-size brown pages, hand-sewn with thick thread. I’ve never actually touched it, of course; but then, I am not worthy).

The late scholar Phillips Moulton, however, was worthy to touch this book, and he spent long labor at this library scraping away the editorial alterations, euphemizations, and general mucking up of the Journal by its presumably well-intentioned editors of days gone by. As a result, we now can read all of what Woolman really wrote. And argue about it.

The same goes for lots of other Quaker bodies. The mere fact that Quakerism has survived for 360 years, as small a group as we are, is the legacy of its institutions. This fact hardly exempts them from criticism (more on that presently), but it pokes a big needle into the balloon of generalized anti-institutional posturing.

Besides the Friends Historical Library, there are numerous other Quaker institutions that have done similar good or even great service.

And now I hear the splutters , “But, but, I wasn’t talking about those institutions. . . .”

Right. So, which ones WERE you talking about?

The question points up a twofold shortcoming of generalized anti-institutional sloganeering: on the one hand, it exhibits lazy, sloppy thinking, a readiness to repeat a meme rather than do some actual hard analysis and diagnosis.

That’s bad enough; the habit of sloppy thinking by Quakers about Quakerism is widely entrenched, but needs to be named and challenged.

And on the other hand, there’s an even more unhappy Quaker habit in evidence here: passive aggression masquerading as conflict avoidance.

In the anti-institutional screeds I have read, where I know enough about the context to make an educated guess, I am morally certain that the writers were not really speaking ill of ALL Quaker institutions, but only some, a specific set with which they have issues or grievances. Yet they lack the wherewithal to name names, and take any resulting heat. So they hide behind the sweeping generalization.

That will not do, Friends. It is unworthy. Also unhelpful.

For such discussion to become serviceable, we need those involved to undertake some Quaker triage:

That is, to make up three lists of Quaker institutions

List A includes those we think are good, worth keeping and strengthening;

On List B go those bodies which are pernicious, outdated, useless, or otherwise need to be laid down; and:

List C will name those institutions which are a mixed bag: partly useful, partly not, but which could be reformed and made worth keeping.

Now, praise is cheap and popular, so populating List A should be relatively easy. The real labor here will come in connection with lists B and C: for them to be useful, and their authors responsible, they will be ready to explain WHY a particular institution needs to be laid down (List B), and not only why but HOW some other institution, currently in a mess, can be salvaged (List C).

(Meanwhile, the real innovators can skip all this and get busy creating their exciting new Quaker institutions. Yet if in the process they are to escape some of the errors of The Old Quaker Establishment, they will be well-advised to make a close study of how those fading groups on List B ended up there.)

The real innovators are usually few in number, though. So the triage process will be the more likely one for most of us. And it comes with hazards, which may be why many avoid it:

For one thing, it requires some actual knowledge to be able to say, credibly: “Organization X belongs on List B, bound for Quakerism’s trash heap.” And then, having said it, to brave the likely wrath of organization X’s defenders and beneficiaries. The former process involves work, serious study and analysis; the latter takes courage and perseverance. (Been there and done that, BTW.)

And List C is no easier. To tell Organization Y it is a mess, but if it repents and changes it ways it may yet be saved, not only can require fortitude. One runs the further risk that — OMG — the criticism might be accepted — and then you’ll be expected to pitch in and help bring about the needed reforms. WTF–more work!

It is easy to understand, in light of this, the temptation to simply float, and take refuge in vague potshots about those yukky “Quaker institutions,” or spiritual-sounding rants about how God wants us to step forward boldly into the future, yada yada.

There was a burger commercial of the last century that built a cult following (er, excuse me, “went viral”) around the slogan, “Where’s the beef?” shouted belligerently by an old lady

Doubtless today’s counterpart YouTube video would ask, “Where’s the tofu?”

Either way, I repeat the question to those complaining about “Quaker institutions”: You say you don’t like the ones we geezers are passing on?

Fine. Then do the homework, name names, take the heat, and either ditch the terminal ones, help fix the salvageable ones, or go out and start some better new ones.

My prayers go with you in all those options.

But spare me the blowing of balloons of vague unfocused complaining. That’s just playing; and I’ve got work to do.

“When it comes to revolutionaries, only trust the sad ones. The enthusiastic ones are the oppressors of tomorrow – or else they are only kidding.”

– Peter Berger

It happens every year

In the dream, it’s 1777, and a Quaker minister named Scatterwell gets a concern to visit the decadent city of Vienna, to preach the gospel of love of God and neighbor. He’s particularly moved by reports of the tens of thousands of poor Austrians and others huddling there in the shadow of the opulent indifference of the imperial court.

The lad replies, “It’s –

And that’s when I wake up screaming.

Because the youth’s name is Wolfgang. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Yes, January 27 is Mozart’s birthday. He would have been (and IS, in a real way) 254 years old today, give or take.

And the nightmare scenario just recounted haunts me because it brings home how drastically poorer my own life would be, had the musician by some miscarriage made the kind of conversion it imagines.

How much difference has it made? There was an underground comic strip back in the Sixties about several disreputable characters called the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers. These fellows had a saying, that “Dope will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no dope.”

For me, tho I enjoyed the Brothers in their time, a truer motto would be, MOZART will get you through times of no money better than MONEY will get you through times of no Mozart!”

And let the church say, “AMEN!”

So while I am also dedicated to Quakerism, seek to achieve our vaunted “Simplicity,” and admire such missions as that of Friend Scatterwell, I’m sure grateful that neither he, nor any of the Catholic ascetic groups Mozart was more likely to have run into, found and deterred him from his musical course. It’s also a great relief that Quakerism has finally outgrown (to a large extent), our opposition to such art. (To get a sense of this evolution, see this excellent compilation, “Beyond Uneasy Tolerance,” compiled by Friend Esther Greenleaf Murer.

Not that fulfilling what seems to have been his destiny turned out much better. His music never brought him much worldly success, and he was carried off before the age of forty, buried in a common grave in Vienna.

Ah well, his genius was what was as close to immortality as things human can get. If you’re also a Mozart fan, or just curious, have a listen to this short piece, the Credo from his “Great” mass , K. 427. This is the kind of “creed” even a liberal Quaker can get behind.