"To Love and Hate Life at the Same Time"

I attended a Meeting for Worship recently at a Quaker school. The first message was given by a youth facing a serious, life-threatening medical condition. His message was powerful, but laced with humor as well. The more serious part of the message was what to do with the question of what it is like to live with a life-threatening condition. In his wisdom, he stated that it is not easy to understand this experience unless one has faced death him/herself - "to love and hate life at the same time."

For the rest of the Meeting and the rest of the day, that term "to love and hate life at the same time" flowed through me almost like fresh air. Since being told more than 20 years ago that I had perhaps 5 years to live and have greatly exceeded that expectation, my own journey has included explorations of mortality, life, soul, death and perhaps most importantly, fear of death. I have read and written much about these from academic, spiritual and experiential vantage points. I have seen lengthy theories and essays on the topic. But never have I heard it put so succinctly: "to love and hate life at the same time."

I think many of us walk around with lots of love and lots of fear which can come across as being in the vicinity of hate. People who preach against gay rights, for example, are often labeled as "haters" even though they could very well be fueled by love for their Bible, their faith and their fear that if they don't do what they can to bring rightness to the world, they too will suffer the consequences. Then we, in turn, perhaps channel some of our own hatred to them for other reasons. The point is that we spend a lot of time compartmentalizing the ways we objectify "love" and "hate" to somehow create a buffer zone of safety from dealing with the complexity of both of these emotions. Facing death, as this young man so clearly articulated, does not allow for us to compartmentalize; we are forced to confront how much we love life and how much we hate knowing that it will all come to an end someday, no matter what our circumstances are.

One of the Quaker testimonies is "Simplicity." For issues as complex as life and death, I don't know that there could be a more simple message to sum it up than to understand that our human condition is one where we have to learn to love and hate life at the same time. Trying to keep them separate only creates internal and external conditions. When we see that we can actually do both, perhaps we will all be better no matter what comes.

The Wisdom of Elders

"What an elder sees sitting, the young can't see standing."  - Gustave Flaubert

April 24, 2014 - Last night, William Penn House hosted a dinner honoring Janie Boyd, a remarkable woman of 84.  I have written about Janie in the past for her inspiring and seemingly tireless work to make sure that people in her community do not go to bed hungry, regardless of whether they are rich or poor, young or old.  She gets out there on the farms to pick greens, organizes food deliveries, and challenges all who cross her path that it is not only criminal but against God's will that we let greed, power and complacency stand in the way of getting readily available and healthy food to the homes of the working poor.  The event last night was great, and the preparation for it had me learning even more about all who have been not just touched, but motivated and inspired - as well as lovingly burned - by her love and faith that we can do better.
This morning, I went to the office to wrap up some loose ends as I prepare to take the rest of the week off. I'm having surgery on my left lung, and the process to get to this point has been a bit of a drag.  But, every step of the way the past few months, Janie has reassured me that all will be fine - that we are in God's hands.  She has been sharp with me about taking care of myself physically as well as emotionally.  At about 10AM, Janie called me to simply state that if I need anything, to let her and the folks at her church know.  More importantly, Janie wanted to let me know that I am loved.
So all day I've been reflecting on how lucky I have been.  The reason?  I have always had elders in my life, and I have mostly been open to hearing their wisdom.  From the late night conversations with my grandmas, all the way to the present, they have been there imparting their wisdom and nurturing my values.  I first heard that God did not put us on this earth to fight not from a Quaker lesson, but from my Presbyterian grandmother as she stopped the car and got out to pull two fighting kids apart that she did not know. I learned that it's important to drop things once in a while and go for a walk or spend time with nature from my grandpa. I learned that late night conversations matter from the many I had with my other grandmother and, in more recent years, from my great aunt, as well as from my first service experience - snow shoveling for a man in his 90's.  The shoveling took 5 minutes; the hot cocoa and cookies and stories took a few hours.
Then, as I journeyed through life with HIV front and center, there was Lois Johnson, always showing that love matters more than anything. Lois had lost a son to AIDS in 1995, and spent much of the rest of her 18 years on this earth doing what she could to make the world of more loving place so people did not have to suffer life in shame or isolation, or from unnecessary disease.  Not only was love the lesson, but that life is not so much about problems but opportunities.  And now there is Janie, and the lessons continue as she imparts her wisdom not just with me but with the youth groups that come to William Penn House.
The lessons of each of these people are a part of who I am now.  They guide so much of my work and life. Their lessons are not separate, but sequential, each one building on and integrating with the previous. My hope is that all people be open to this wisdom that is readily available in people like Janie, Lois and countless others. Wisdom comes from life experiences, and is often found in the humblest of places.  It is out there, to be shared. It is a source of hope in the face of adversity. May we all be so fortunate to find that wisdom in our lives. More importantly, if we truly want to bring justice to the world, I believe we need that loving wisdom to guide us.

-Brad Ogilvie

"Open and Affirming" is not the same as "Reconciliation and Forgiveness"

A week before Thanksgiving, at William Penn House, we hosted Danish Quaker K. Renato Lings who talked about his book "Love Lost in Translation" and his personal faith journey to reconciliation as a gay Christian.  It was a very enlightening presentation.  What I found most interesting was to hear Renato talk about the importance of finding comfort in his faith in order for him to really deal with his depression.  From a clinical standpoint, what I was hearing was that he had been traumatized growing up in a faith tradition that condemned him for being gay.  He subsequently spent many years avoiding his Christian faith, but was out to the world as a gay man.  Despite all the acceptance he felt (including among Quakers with whom he worked and worshiped), he still exhibited the lingering effects of the trauma (avoidance and other signs of depression).  It was not until he started to confront the "abuser" (The Bible as it had been used against him), and did extensive research into interpretations, meanings and historical factors, that he realized he could find a way to be both gay and Christian.  He no longer had to go through life being afraid to face the very thing that had caused him so much hurt.  (Side note: Andrew Marin has done some great work on the importance of forgiveness and reconciliation, including showing up at Pride parades with "I'm Sorry" signs.  See more here.)  
As the conversation unfolded, we discussed the importance of reconciliation and acceptance, but also the importance of recognizing that overcoming the traumatic experience that many gays and lesbians takes more than being "open and affirming."  To fully overcome the impact and control that traumatic experiences can have on people, it is important to work through the fear that leads to avoidance as this can habituate into a paralyzing way of life.
Many Quaker congregations consider themselves welcoming places for the glbt community, which is fantastic.  What we discussed at this evening event, however, was that to be welcoming without fully appreciating the depths of hurt that religious rejection can leave with people has the potential to cause inadvertent harm, and we do this by not better understanding the Bible.  Our own avoidance or lack of comfort with the Bible - the agent used for perpetrating the abuse - can leave us ill-equipped for being the reconciling place we would hope to be for those who have experienced the trauma.  This is where we might actually do more harm - by promising acceptance but missing the mark by not appreciating the depth of the harm.  Renato Lings' book might be a good place to start the journey to greater healing for so many.

Workcamps, 2013: Breaking Barriers, Nurturing Leaders

As we get ready to shift into high gear with the summer Workcamps and programs, I have also been reflecting on ways to integrate new ideas and opportunities so that we do not fall into a rut of relying on a template, but instead keep things new and fresh.

For starters, I am ever-more convinced that the responsibility that comes with planning and running service programs is to not just meet the expectations of participants (i.e. to feel good about making a difference, or understand a social injustice better), but to also challenge these expectations in a way that promotes thinking critically about what kind of world they envision and what else they can do in their lives to move closer to that vision.  It is in this kind of conversation that we talk about the importance of relationships - you don't create your vision of the world that includes others without including them in the conversation and the creation of that world - and about the role that privilege and responsibility have in social justice work.

In addition to these "continuing revelation" conversations, here at William Penn House we have an added dimension of progress this summer: we are focusing a concerted effort on nurturing the leaders of the next generation in leading these conversations.  Our summer intern, Nate Anderson-Stahl, joined us last summer for 2 weeks on Pine Ridge.  Prior to that, he had attended Baltimore Yearly Meeting summer camps and the teen adventure program.  Now he will be applying his knowledge and experience of Quakerism, Quaker process and Workcamps to developing and leading them as part of our team. In addition, we have three rising seniors from a DC-prep school who will be joining us for 2 weeks in late July.  The first week will be to experientially learn about Workcamps, the kinds of service we do in DC, the importance of relationships in doing service (I often think that, without a relationship, there usually is not service), how things are connected, and the importance of critically thinking and questioning things.  The second week, these students will then be leading the process for a Workcamp group coming to DC and, hopefully, taking the relations they establish with them to their school, bringing a new dynamic of service and opportunities with them.

It is always an honor to be able to work with the leaders of tomorrow.  My hope is that this summer will be the start of breaking down the compartmentalization we sometimes create around programs and issues, as we weave more connections into the fabric of community.  One vision: to create a flow where youth who have been introduced to Quaker ideals (in schools, Meetings and/or camps) and had an opportunity to practice them in a larger arena (Workcamps), become the farm system for Workcamp organizers, creators and leaders where they get to experience facilitating visioning and implementation built on relationships, and then take these experiences into the rest of their lives with greater consciousness of stewardship, compassion and persistent hope that overcomes the frustrations and disappointments that are sure to be there as well.  This is something I have been envisioning for the past few years; this year is looking like it is starting to take root.  As with all things, patience and perserverance seem to pay off, but now the real work begins.  

-Brad Ogilvie

From "I'm Shy" to "Let's Dance" in 60 Seconds

Last week, we hosted two separate groups for a day of Workcamps.  One group was made up of 12 students from China who had just graduated high school there and were part of a cultural exchange program before heading to college (some in the US, but most back in China).  This group arrived early and headed out to work on the beginnings of a project to turn a neglected bit of land into a healthy community space with a tiered rain garden, community garden and basketball court (this will be a project we will be a part of for the next few years).

The other group, from Harford Friends School in MD, consisted of the entire 8th grade class (all six of them), their Head of School, and one of the parents.  They proceeded to go from William Penn House to assist a remarkable woman, Janey Boyd, who has been addressing the problems of hunger in DC since the 1950's. Their work this day was to help unload food that had been gleaned from a local farm and package it for families to pick up at the school where the truck met the group, illustrating the fact that there is good nutritional and fresh food available if we can just get folks to help get it from farm to table.

When it came time to consider what to do for dinner, I thought of simplifying things by having the groups share dinner.  I was a bit unsure how this would play out.  There were differences in both age and culture, as well as language.  But these groups were sharing the house for the night, and Community is one of the testimonies that guides our work at William Penn House, so let's just have faith in it, I thought.
At first, it looked like the groups were going to share food, but sit separately.  I encouraged the Harford students to split in two groups at the tables we have.

"I'm shy" was the immediate response of one of the students, but they took the suggestion anyway.  Within minutes, what was a quiet room with the exception of some subdued Chinese language conversations became a boisterous room as people talked about everything from video games to dance.  The energy and spirit lifted as folks became aware of how much we are not separated by our nations, culture and language, but by how much we are united by our humanity.  I remember in particular, the "shy" student who is a dancer reveling in how she connected with one of the Chinese students who has a passion for dancing as well, and how she really wished she could see him dance.

I know this is just one meal, and who knows what impact it will have.  I do know that transcending one's fear, stepping out of one's comfort zone, and having a wonderful experience can be the building block for doing more of this.  Perhaps one day, the dancers will share that dance.

Something for Me to Do

My internship at the William Penn House will end in January. It has been an amazing 18 months of growing and learning.

I could talk about all the practical things I have done here. That is my inclination- I am a beaver. I’ve folded countless sheets and towels. Washed a lot of dishes. I am now an expert email-writer and phone-answerer. I co-clerked a planning committee for a nation wide young adult Friend’s inter-branch conference. I helped plan a retreat here for young adult Friends who are currently working for Quaker organizations. I’ve traveled to multiple yearly meetings and gatherings of Friends representing the House. I scheduled a multitude of appointments for college groups and then had students following me around DC like ducklings. I have seen a lot of guests come and go. I could talk about all of this “doing” but there is sometime much more important and lasting about my time at the William Penn House.

When I graduated from college in the spring of 2007 I was sure that I was headed for a career in academia. That is what I was comfortable with, what I loved, what I knew. I was the student, and that was all. When graduate school plans were not realized I felt lost and unsure about the next step in my life. Thankfully, in the twists and turns of the internet I found the William Penn House. It seemed like a great opportunity to live right in the heart of a big city, get out of Ohio and doing something related to my Quaker faith.

Those expectations were certainly met in my time here, but there have been other ways being here has changed and challenged me that I did not foresee coming. Suddenly I had free time to fill with things other than homework and studying. Suddenly I was far away from my friends of four years. Suddenly I was living and working in the same place. It was a much larger transition than I had anticipated. Who was I now if I wasn’t a student?

I could not imagine a better place to try and figure out the answers to that question than here at the WPH. With all the skills and gifts I thought I was bringing to the House, the House has been willing to invest in me and my development. I have found work here that is meaningful and fulfilling. I have learned to do small things like laundry and dishes as a meditative practice, instead of as something below me. I have had the chance to try new things- like planning a national inter-branch YAF conference and traveling to difference yearly meetings and colleges to represent the House. I have gained skills in communication and reflection by living with others. Encouraged by my mentors here, I have become more attuned to what I am feeling and needing in each moment. I have been able to put into words what I feel called to do and be in my life.

Dorothea Dix said that “In a world where there is so much to be done, I felt strongly impressed that there much be something for me to do.” That is the greatest gift from my time here. The WPH has allowed me to do deep searching to figure out what I am supposed to do and then as it fits with the mission of the House they have given me the skills, time and opportunity to live that out. For that I am extremely grateful.

A New Kind of Quaker

This last weekend I traveled to Greensboro, North Carolina for "A New Kind of Quaker." Most of those gathered there were young adult Friends from the eastern part of the country. We were joined though be a good number of older Friends who were interested inter-generational conversation. The conference was very short, taking up only Friday night and Saturday till dinner time and consisted mostly of workshops and a little bit of open worship. Many of us however extended our time there by visiting F(f)riends on Thursday and Friday and hearing Nathan Sebens preach at First Friends on Sunday. For me, those extended times of fellowship were during meals, before bed and during car rides were some of the weekend's best moments.

I spent Thursday and then later Sunday night at Pickard's Mountain, an organic teaching farm, where several YAFs work and live. It was exciting to see Friends living out the testimonies of simplicity and peace as they live off the grid in yomes (a mix between a yurt and a geodesic dome) and raise a portion of the food they eat. I realized that here at the William Penn House I have grown use to the noise of passing traffic and the lights of the city. At the farm the full moon lit up our surroundings and we could see the stars and we played a board game by the light of candles. On Friday morning we worshiped together outside in the garden next to the goats. Often in the city I get disconnected from nature, but at the farm I was always in and apart of it.

The conference itself began with a talk by Betsy Blake, a time of small group worship sharing and finally open worship together. I found myself, in the silence after Betsy shared, longing to stay in worship together, instead of break up into small groups. I felt like I should stand up and offer this to Friends, but was scared. Scared of appearing rude, scared of changing the schedule, and so I didn't. Now looking back on it, I regret not being more faithful to the leading of the Spirit. As Friends, are we not supposed to be open to where God is leading us in the moment? And yet I thought that asking for the schedule to be changed would be stepping on others toes.

Much of the weekend felt this way to me, rushing from one thing to the next. The question that many Friends seem to have came with to this weekend was "What is God calling us to?" There were many workshops that talked this issue up and down. I represented Evangelical Friends on a inter-branch panel and spoke about what I saw in the future of my own branch. During the day and a half I poured out to others, talking about my own spiritual journey and trying to feel out what this "new kind of Quaker" will be. But I felt like we had little time to listen to where the Spirit is calling us, to lay down what we expect God to do and just let Him lead us. Many of us spoke of a desire for renewal and rebirth, to commit radically to our faith. I long for that, deeply. But often my yearning gets in the way of allowing God to possibly call me to something completely different than anything I can imagine. How can I get past my own impatience for God to move so that God can really move?

This being said, I did have deep and productive conversations with others at the conference. I enjoyed the experience of sharing deeply with others and finding common ground. That kind of connection is invaluable as we try to together discern the way forward. I met new people who I value as part of my spiritual community and I learned to appreciate old friends in new ways. I am particularly grateful to those who showed us out-of-towners hospitality during our stay by providing us a couch to sleep on and welcoming us at meeting on Sunday morning. The community, love and joy among us was where the Spirit was this weekend. That was where I saw transformation.

Sustaining our Spirit Led Service

On the weekend of October 3 through 5, eighteen young adult Friends, including myself, who currently are working for Quaker organizations gathered with us at the William Penn House for “Sustaining Our Spirit Led Service: A Consultation for Young Adult Quaker Professionals.” Cosponsored and planned with Sadie at Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, the weekend was a time for YAFs to share their experiences, develop new skills and be encouraged in their work. The William Penn House donated lodging for any of the participants who chose to spend the weekend at the house. The young adults were joined by four seasoned resource people with experience working for Quaker organizations to help facilitate discussions. Participants included employees from twelve Quaker organizations from the East Coast and Midwest.

On Friday night Mary Lord, former American Friends Service Committee Assistant General Secretary for Peace Building, spoke to us about what the title of the weekend meant and her own experience working for a variety of Quaker groups. Saturday began with worship and was full of small group discussions and workshops. We then had the evening free to explore DC, with many in the group going to dinner together. Sunday morning consisted of worship at the William Penn House with local Friends and then a closing discussion of the weekend, including what else would be helpful for young adults who work for Quaker organizations.

Topics discussed over the weekend included how YAFs working for Quaker organizations can be spiritually nurtured and included in the faith community they also serve, how to be effective in a workplace where many coworkers are not Quaker and what Quaker service looks like. The weekend was also a great chance of young adult Friends to connect with others with similar jobs, goals and callings.

I was so happy to have this opportunity to host YAFs here at the house. For me, it was a time of renewal and encouragement. I was able to step back from my job for a weekend and reflect on what my gifts and call are. I had a moment of clarity, thanks to a question asked by Mary Lord, that the thing that I find meaning in is bringing people together for the opportunity to become more whole and complete children of God. I am thankful that many other young adults at the weekend had renewing moments like this.