Plenary, 23 Jan 2008

Meeting date: Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Official Report 497KB pdf

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Time for Reflection

Good afternoon. Our first item of business is time for reflection. Our time for reflection leader today is Margaret Peacock from the Religious Society of Friends.

The Religious Society of Friends, also called Quakers, is one of the Scottish churches. Like several other Protestant churches, it originated in the 17th century in protest against the church of that time. A community whose members called themselves seekers used to meet in silent prayer, hoping that God would show them the way forward. They were visited not by a seeker, but by a finder, whose name was George Fox, who had discovered that, for him, churches and priests were unnecessary barriers between him and God. Jesus had been teaching him throughout his seeking; Jesus would teach anyone, anywhere, directly in their hearts.

Quakers today in Britain follow the seekers' silent tradition. Our Sunday meetings for worship are held in silence, but anyone may speak if they feel inspired by God to do so. We also have silence in preparation before we start our business meetings.

The poet Thomas Hood, who died in 1845, described us as

"the sedate, sober, silent, serious, sad-coloured sect".

I do not know whether you can see my shoes, but they are red, not sad coloured. All those adjectives may once have distinguished us, but the only one that does so today is "silent", and that is only in our meetings. Like all Quakers, I am addicted to silence. Jesus went into the wilderness to pray. I do that, too.

When I was little, this poem by Dorothy Frances Gurney used to be widely printed on gardening calendars and embroidered on cushions:

"With the kiss of the sun for pardon
And the song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."

Sometimes you go into a park or garden and notice that suddenly the noise of traffic is muted—absorbed by the trees. Supposing that that does not make you uncomfortable enough to reach for your iPod or your mobile, you start to hear the tiny sounds that were drowned out before, and you may tiptoe so that you do not disturb the quiet. You may savour the sensation of silence for the short time that the novelty lasts, and then your busy mind returns to business as usual and its memories and plans.

I suggest that the next time you notice a silence like that you preserve it and enjoy it. Make your busy mind rest from generating words. Take an interest in the small sounds—even the tinnitus that originates in your ears. Reach for the silence behind the sounds, and try to enter it. If you enjoy that, then perhaps you can take the next step: practise carrying a bubble of silence around with you, right into the noise—your personal garden of healing and delight.