Quaker Meeting

There’s a big old house in Cornwall on the Hudson. Its white and unpretentious, (except the sign and even that isn’t too boisterous) with a long porch and two sets of big white double doors. It is quiet, even the grounds aren’t too well kept or too shabby. It wasn't, well, too anything. Quiet is what I think these folks would view as a compliment.

There aren’t many of these Friends about anymore. Thirty-eight Hundred in all New York, I heard. Thirty-eight Hundred people who’ve got to like themselves a whole bunch and trust in a God I can't remember, probably never knew. Nine people at this meeting, one was me. Welcomed heartily despite my most obvious apostate nature.

Every First Day since 1790 in this big white house, they’ve come together to sit silently, quietly. Is it prayer, meditation, contemplation, waiting for divine inspiration, all the above? I don’t know. I do know that my restless soul didn’t find comfort there. I don’t like myself enough and certainly won’t put faith in the God in my little heart. I spent the hours looking out the window at a glorious winter day; much safer than looking in.

I’m not even sure these Friends are Christians…in the sense that Christ is first and the God is secondary. More like my Sufi friends they seem; the God within is Essence...the words of the Prophet blessed. I’ll have to read their tenants and beliefs.

Perhaps that’s why they honor their enemies? It was very strange to see in a little pamphlet, on an old side table, a note written by John Wesley. Who more could have weeded out from them those of their corporation of lesser faith? "21. To this kind of enthusiasm they are peculiarly exposed, who expect to be directed of God, either in spiritual things or in common life"

Curiously, Cornwall hosts these peaceful Friends and one of New York’s oldest military academies. I’m far from sure that it’s ironic.

I doubt I’ll ever go back…but I’m sure glad I went. And I’m sure glad these thirty-eight hundred souls are out there. I share their belief in pacifism and human rights and dignity. I know they fight for all of us, in their peaceful way.

But mostly because it wasn’t all quiet. God shouted her presence in the laughter, giggles, and dancing of the little feet upstairs. Nothing proves the presence of God more than the smiles of the children….at least to me.