Tonight after a particularly spirited meeting I am reminded of some of the functions of a meeting. We are definitely a community and most of us know each other at least a little. We enjoy the silence though it is not generally filled with heartfelt messages; often, at the end, I give a kind of quaker message.

One function of a meeting is as a peaceful place in a world that is definitely not peaceful. A lot of us are suffering from active hardship. One whose daughter almost ran away; one who had a suicide among her circle of friends; one whose cat suffered from inexplicable bleeding. One who lives in Eugene, Oregon, right near the fires, and was only on for a few minutes. Some whose districts are full of covid; some who work with the distressed. We have a wide variety.

One brought a young daughter. That reminds me of a second function of a meeting. The daughter is in costume but friendly, and everyone says hello. It's my stand that the children need the meeting, and the meeting needs the children. Disrupting the silence is a different problem. Having children in the meeting is important though because we need to see the whole picture. Some children are being raised in this crazy world.

Another simply has to do with resources. It's more than what books are good to read (see earlier posts) or where else one can find fellowship. It's more like how do you deal with a suicide? Or what can we do with the tools around us?

There was the question of what God could expect of us in times like these. That's a good question and I'm not sure I'm prepared to answer it entirely at this moment. God, it seems, is turning up the pressure. Fires, pandemic, economic harship, various deck-clearing storms. We the strong will get through it. God wants us to speak out about what's right and wrong, what is the right way. If we need violence to get out of this horrible mess, then what?

I'm not sure I can answer.