Living with change

Patricia Gosling considers space, time and change

We live our lives within the three dimensions of Space and the one of Time. If our interests are those of astronomy or geology, the aeons of time involved are so immense as to be mind-blowing. When it comes to evolution – the evolution of life on our planet, or even that of our own species Homo sapiens – the length of years can only be grasped by an intellectual effort of will.

It is when we come to our own life experience that we become all too conscious of the passage of time.

‘My – how you have grown,’ I exclaim to the visiting toddler, who I see only occasionally, and my banal observation is accepted with pleasure by both small boy and proud parents. Having lived a long life I am aware of how much has changed in our society since I was young – the level and distribution of wealth, the communication revolution of the Internet and mobile phones, the aspirations and expectations, the moral standards and behaviour, the very composition of our population. In this case, I keep my comments to myself, not wishing to burden the young with tedious and inappropriate advice.

If basic biology remains unchanged, the theatre in which it is played out has changed enormously. Today’s young adults face challenges unknown sixty years ago – housing shortage, educational debt, job insecurity – but they have also had opportunities to develop competence and skills only reached much later, if at all, by their grandparents.

Religion, certainly the religions of the Book – Judaism, Christianity and Islam – claim to be timeless. By so doing they perform a fundamental function – to relieve our existential anxiety. They also assert group identity and its continuity with history; and they propound moral values and set standards of behaviour.

They have their literary canon and their scriptures purporting to be the Word of God. They have their rituals, their doctrines, their festivals and their authority figures. The aspiring godly are expected to accept all this as immutable and an expression of faith.

If some of the enshrined wisdom sits uncomfortably with contemporary life, the adherents have a problem. Some keep their doubts to themselves but struggle inwardly; some keep the religious and secular aspects of their life quite separate; and others abandon their faith totally.

Mystical traditions

I cannot comment on the mystical traditions of Judaism and Islam, but, within Christianity, Quakerism is surely the only group that does not lay claim to doctrinal timelessness. On the contrary, by putting at its centre the experience of ‘immediate revelation’, to use Robert Barclay’s phrase, its claim is to be part of an ongoing process.

Friends who regularly attend Meeting for Worship will recognise this in their own experience of the movement of the Spirit. It is unpredictable and can be deeply emotional and beyond rational analysis. It is often surprising, powerful and – improbably – shared by the group members.

It leads sometimes to group action of the kind we call ‘concerns’. It frequently leads to action – or creative inaction – by individuals, as they are offered a new perspective on their daily lives.

Our sad world is in dire need of a new religious formulation, but that religion must be compatible with our current scientific understanding, and able to meet and respond to the rapid rate of change we are experiencing in so many directions. I believe Quakerism has so much to offer. We should value it, and not be too modest in our outreach.

The still small voice

What is the Spirit calling us to do at this juncture? We should beware of thinking we already know the answer. There is a terrible tendency for good, conscientious people to think that what is required of them personally is to ‘try harder’ – to become more nearly the perfect Christian, the true Quaker they aspire to.

As a group we are prone to look at our concerns, our valuable work, and want to do more of it, with more people, more money, more dedication. Maybe – or maybe not! Sometimes I think we would do well to opt occasionally for a Zen-like calm and emptiness, which would allow us to hear the still small voice trying to communicate with us.

We all have our own individual perspective, which colours our thinking. A letter to the Friend last year echoed my own concerns about the way we treat our children. There is a casual carelessness about the manner in which too many are reared. The author of the letter wrote about the number of children officially ‘at risk’ – of the 100 children killed or dying of neglect each year.

Many adolescent girls suffer from anorexia, anxiety and depression. They are uncomfortable with their self-image. The level of drug addiction is not just about fashion; it often conceals an unmanageable level of emotional pain. The news has reported on the recorded anxiety about panic attacks in the under-fives.

Many years ago the French intellectual Emmanuel Todd, in looking at the infant mortality statistics, prophesied the downfall of the Soviet Union some years before it actually happened. He reckoned that a country that could not keep its babies alive was doomed. The only true wealth of any society is surely the quality of its people. What are the mental health statistics saying about ours?

Quaker Meetings are usually delighted to have young families in their midst. I hope we not only make them feel welcome, but also confirm the importance and value of the parental role. I hope we acknowledge what an enormous commitment comes with parenthood, and what a lengthy, exhausting and demanding job it is. (Yes, it is also deeply rewarding, but support is much appreciated when one is in the thick of it!)

When I was a teenager I rejected, rightly, the pallid, moralistic brand of Christianity offered to me, and opted for a rebellious atheism. At the same time, I remained intrigued by the personality of Jesus of Nazareth.

One of my schoolteachers, a young woman married to a trainee minister, began a small religious study group that I joined. There I found my views were listened to and respected. I felt that I was respected.

I did not cease being critical, but the realm of religious discourse remained open to me, so that some years later, when I met up with some interesting people who happened to be Friends, I was able to respond to them.

This same teacher and husband, with a male colleague, took a gaggle of sixth-form girls youth hostelling around the Lake District. It was my first separation from family and, seaside holidays aside, my first exploration of a rural environment. It began a profound love affair with that amazing landscape which has lasted until this day.

Gratitude

I owe that young couple a great debt of gratitude. At about the same age I discovered my vocation while reading randomly along the shelves of our excellent public library.

Adolescence is such a formative time. The people and the ideas we meet then have an impact that it is difficult to achieve again. Sometimes even a small, apparently insignificant encounter can be creative in unexpected ways.

In the Society of Friends we make good provision for our adolescents at Junior Yearly Meeting, and I know some who have greatly enjoyed that experience.

Is there a case to be made for outreach to young people who may not yet have any affiliation? Some of us may have contacts that could be developed.

Just a thought!

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