If, as unprogrammed Friends, we are ALL ministers, what are the forms that our ministry might take? Are there forms of ministry we don’t recognize that are essential to creating the beloved community and growing closer to the Divine? We sometimes act as if vocal ministry is the “real” measure of a meeting. I have been in Ministry and Counsel meetings discussing how to get more people to offer vocal ministry, as if somehow that was a measure of the success or depth of a meeting. What else might ministry look like? Paul in his letter to the church at Ephesus lists four kinds of ministry: apostles, prophets, evangelists, and shepherd-teachers. But all these forms are only talk.
I want to offer this query: “What are all the ways in which people in a meeting minister to the community whether to one, some, or all? By ministry, I mean service which increases a sense of the Beloved Community. The more I explored this query, both in my own experience and as I listened to others, the more I agreed with Lloyd Lee Wilson’s (Conservative NC Friend) comment Quakers: “It’s a big tent, Friends. There’s room for all.”
Elspeth Rhodin was a member of Ithaca Monthly meeting many years ago. She wrote and mailed out (paper!) copies of Ithaca’s newsletter to each meeting in our region. I looked forward to opening it up and seeing the post-it with a note – Written in a lovely spidery hand that slanted backwards, some simple, personal greeting. “The snowdrops are up here. Hope you are well.” When I finally met her in person, I was able to thank her for this small ministry during the otherwise mundane task of opening the meetinghouse mail.
While personal notes feed the heart, we also offer all kinds of food ministry. Long ago, in the early ‘90s it was Louise’s cheesy potatoes – brought in an avocado green pot that plugged into the wall. Others had dishes that everyone looked forward to at potluck. Commenting on the food, appreciating it, and looking forward to it encourages easy conversation and a communal feeling. Everyone loves Roberta’s cornbread.
Behind the scenes is the “inventory” ministry, the person who checks the big drawer in the pantry and buys coffee, or brings napkins, cream, oat milk, and tea bags. There have been a few times when we have arrived to discover that we are coffee-less or without creamer. We have extra appreciation the next week when once again, everything is provided.
More visible are the kind souls who bring baked goods and who attend to the needs of individuals — cookies that are gluten free, without nuts, vegan or those amazing brownies that are none of the above, but delicious for those who can indulge. I love the fact that sometimes the “Food Ministry” is thin — clearly everyone was rushing to get to meeting or forgot. The next week, reliably, there are extras — Friends being sure that there is bounty for all. It’s not scripted, it’s not a committee responsibility, and I love the rhythm of it. Feast or (not quite) famine, it’s a ministry as we stand around and share before and after meeting for worship.
There are the ministries of space — the people who have taken the time to learn the finicky intricacies of setting up the tech for our hybrid meetings and who check that the online people can hear the room, one another and can speak to the room. We walk by the big screen into the meeting room, waving at those online, and exchanging some conversation. A hearing-impaired Friend can sit within sight of the screen, gazing at the closed captioning. Without this, some would miss most of what happens in meeting.
There are people who set up all the folding chairs in two concentric semi-circles placing a small rickety table in the center with a speaker on it. The two semi circles create an embracing shape and now opens towards the online screen, including them in our circle.
Next, the people who bring others to meeting — the young woman who doesn’t drive, the older woman recovering from a leg injury, whoever needs a ride. The conversations in the car on the way to meeting build community and forge
relationships that contribute to enriching the life of the meeting. We learn about each other’s lives outside of the meeting.
We hold monthly spiritual companionship dinners in each other’s homes. Hosts, participants and cooks all offer ministry to those who attend.
Some enrich the meeting by sharing their leadings to act for justice in the world. This may take the form of offering information or opportunities to participate in events, demonstrations, actions, letter writing, and more. My favorite example of this kind of ministry is the members of our meeting that joined in helping clean and completely furnish apartments for incoming refugee families. The joy of welcoming refugees to our city added to our sense of being part of the Beloved Community. While that ministry ended due to the current administration, we are finding other ways to share: refurnishing an apartment for a Congolese family who lost everything in a fire, helping set up an apartment for a victim of domestic violence, putting up curtains for refugee families whose custom is to separate every room with curtains rather than doors.
There are also deeply personal ministries that wind up feeding the spirits of all. When John Spears, was diagnosed with a terminal cancer, we organized a daily “care committee” as his partner was trying to run a new business. Every day one of us would visit, bringing food to tempt our friend’s appetite. We learned so much from one another, and we learned more about this amazing man — the music he loved, the travel adventures he’d had, and the dignity and graciousness that he showed in his dying. In terms of ministry, everyone was offering; everyone was receiving.
Another ministry is the person who holds the history of the meeting without rigidity. Describing what we have done in the past grounds us in patterns so that we don’t have to reinvent each time we do something. By not holding this history rigidly, the past becomes a starting place. Holding the history helps orient everyone to a way of seeing an issue while welcoming other perspectives or correctives. Containing the memories of a meeting is a precious form of ministry.
And then, there was Gloria. Gloria’s ministry was being present during worship. She attended regularly and sat in the same chair every meeting. She never offered vocal ministry. Due to her circumstances, she was unable to participate in anything other than meeting for worship. However, at her memorial service, person after person stood to offer testimony about how Gloria affected their own experience of meeting for worship. Her silent, grounded, faithful presence was a balm for Friends feeling scattered or distracted during worship. Each of us could see Gloria’s ministry as if it were for us alone — in her solid, deep presence we become more grounded ourselves.
A year and a half ago, we experienced a wrenching and painful incident in our meeting that led to a schism with some friends leaving to start a meeting of their own. What has helped heal our meeting and brought us back to a sense of compassion for each other and a return of the trust and openness we once knew? I believe that much of it came from Friends offering these small acts of ministry -- helping someone get to meeting, bringing food, writing personal notes, listening to others share their griefs, steadfastly publishing a weekly newsletter detailing activities, publishing a quarterly newsletter with in-depth articles, creating book clubs, doing the tech to allow online worship, contribute to the sense of being in a loving and supportive community.
Our great truth as Friends is that everyone can minister to others. The proof of this is not our vocal ministry but all the ways we find to contribute to the meeting and grow our sense of the Beloved Community. What ministry have you offered? Everyone has something to offer. Everyone should be able to receive. What ministry have you received during your time in our meeting? Truly, there is room for everyone at the table, and all are welcome.