Thirty years ago this month I first crossed the threshold of Goose Creek and began my journey with Quakerism. I was a young mother of two little ones, unsure of which parts of the Christian story I believed but wanting to give my children some sort of spiritual grounding. I have always been a spiritual seeker. Over the years my search had taken me through some strange and interesting places, but nothing had stuck. As a young adult I left all of that behind and for a decade or so devoted myself to having fun and getting ahead. Then I had children.
I first tried the local Methodist church and it was everything you could want in a church – lovely people who were my neighbors, a big jolly Sunday School, and within walking distance of my home. But I just couldn’t bring myself to unquestioningly pass on what I thought of as “boilerplate Christianity” to the tender minds of my children. However, while I was no longer a practicing anything, I still took religion very seriously. Curious about Quakerism, I asked my dear friend, Catherine, to take me to Goose Creek.My first Meeting for Worship was completely silent. Friends sitting quietly, the clock ticking, the fire crackling. I loved the simplicity of the meeting house, the beautiful surroundings, and the friendly people. In spite of the long distance from my home, I came back the next week with my children, and the next and the next. A year or two later, I became a member.
Now, 30 years have passed, my children have grown up, and I am still driving 55 minutes each way to worship at Goose Creek. What keeps me coming back? If I was hoping for peace and serenity (as I think I was), I have been sadly disappointed.
To be a member of a faith tradition that values spiritual integrity above all is very challenging. In the silence and in the absence of imposed doctrine, there is no place to hide. To be a Quaker, I discovered, is to be permanently experiencing metanoia, usually translated as “repentance,” but more accurately described as the process of undergoing a "change of mind" so as to have a wholly new perspective on the world, life, and humanity. This is slow, difficult work, but I will always be grateful for the Quaker crucible through which God leads me in this lifelong process.
Becoming a member was an important part of my journey. It was like a marriage. Once the shine of Quakerism had worn off and inevitable disappointments and frustrations came along, I remained faithful to the commitment I had made. The fruits have been of infinite value: membership in a loving and imperfect faith community that continues to love me in spite of my imperfections, a school of life among deeply wise teachers past and present, and, above all, an awareness within the spaciousness of Quaker practice of the Spirit guiding me.
Will I always be a member of Goose Creek? I cannot say. One thing I have learned on my Quaker journey is that the label doesn’t matter – being faithful to the leadings of the Spirit does. Lead me onwards, Holy One, lead me onwards.
