What moves us to pray and worship? Sometimes we are moved by a quickened sense of a sacred Presence. Prayer and worship are our spontaneous responses as we awaken to God’s unutterable radiance and wonder. Sometimes we are moved by a realization that, left to ourselves, we are inadequate, that apart from God we are insufficient. Realizing that our knowledge is insufficient, we turn to God’s light and wisdom. And there are those who pray and worship as a conscious means of growing up to God and becoming firmly established in His kingdom.

Why do not more people pray? Why do not all of us worship more often? Many lack a quickened sense of a sacred Presence. Though aware of material things, they are inert to the things of the spirit. They wait to be spiritually awakened. Most of us persist in feeling that we are self-sufficient. We feel we are adequate for all ordinary affairs, and it is only when we find ourselves in overpowering situations that we recognize we are not self-sufficient, and may then turn to God. But when the crisis passes we are likely to lapse into an assumption of self-sufficiency.

Why do not the leaders of nations turn to god? Did not the recent war, does not the present chaos of the world show them that their powers and knowledge are inadequate? It would seem that the leaders, despite all evidence to the contrary, still believe that their own powers and politics are enough to prevent war and to secure an ordered and peaceful world.

When will the people learn? When will the leaders learn? I do not know, but for the sake of mankind I hope we learn soon. The people of all nations would do well to suspend their ordinary affairs for an hour each day, and, in concert, turn their minds and hearts steadfastly towards God. The purpose of regeneration would be better served in this one hour than in all the other hours of the day.

Is the meeting for worship based on silence? No. Friends know that it is not, yet some Friends have fallen into the habit of saying that it is. Jane Rushmore brought out this point in one of our meetings of Ministry and Counsel. She reminded us that the meeting for worship is based on the conviction that we can directly communicate with God, and He with us. Silence, we believe, is a necessary means to such communion. For if we are busy with our own talk, God will not speak to us. Stillness is a necessary condition for practicing the presence of God. For if we stir about in our own wills, God will not move us. In the meeting for worship we try to obey the command, “Be still, and know that I am God.” God is the goal. A living silence is a means thereto.

Recently I was visited by three young Friends, thirteen years of age. They had some problems to talk over. I asked if they felt they knew what to do in the meeting for worship. Their happy confidence that they did know was a pleasant surprise, as I have found many Friends, young and old, who are in need of suggestions and guides. I asked these three what they did in the silence. After some hesitancy, one brightened and replied, “I talk over my problems with God.” I told her that was a splendid thing to do. For young people of thirteen or thereabouts, it is enough that they talk over their problems with God, or engage in some other simple and sincere exercise. For some older people one or two simple practices are enough. I am in sympathy with those who would worship in simplicity of mind and heart. But others are in need of more, and the preceding chapter tries to speak to this need. Whatever the means used, the important thing is that we spiritually awake and come alive during the meeting for worship even more than at other times.

Who should speak in the meeting for worship? Anyone who is genuinely moved to. Age has nothing to do with it, though older people may be more able because of longer practice. Education has nothing to do with it, though education may facilitate verbal expression. The essential matter is the inward prompting, under God’s guidance. The Book of Discipline says, “Our conviction is that the Spirit of God is in all, and that vocal utterance comes when this Spirit works within us. The varying needs of a meeting can be best supplied by different personalities, and a meeting is enriched by the sharing of any living experience of God.”

What are we to do if we feel genuinely moved to speak but are inhibited by the fear of not expressing ourselves well? Attend to what you have to say. Put your mind on that, and take it off yourself. Do not be concerned that your speech may be halting and imperfect. Do not compare yourself with others, thinking that they speak fluently, you poorly. Be concerned to communicate. Summon up your courage and break the ice. Try. If you can once overcome an inhibition, you have broken its hold. It will still be there, but you can overcome it more readily the next time. Keep trying.

It is true that some people seem born with the facility to speak, but it is also true that the ability, like other abilities, is developed by practice. Most of those who speak well now, began with embarrassment, self-consciousness, and an imperfect command of words. Friends can be counted on to understand if at first your thoughts and feelings are not expressed as well as they might be. They will attend more to what you are trying to say than to how you say it. Here again the Book of Discipline gives wise counsel. “One who is timid or unaccustomed to speak should have faith that God will strengthen him to give his message.”

When should we speak in the meeting for worship? Whenever we are moved to. We may be moved to speak near the beginning, midway, or towards the end. The important thing is not the time but the moving. However, as Rufus Jones once pointed out, it sometimes helps if, once we are really settled, something is said that lifts the spirit, that raises us above our worldly problems and gives impetus to our search for the indwelling divinity.

What should be spoken of in the meeting for worship? This question will be answered for us, inwardly, if we are in the spirit of the meeting, if the meeting is in God’s spirit. We may speak of spiritual things. We may speak of daily affairs and events, if these are given a spiritual interpretation. We may speak of world problems, if these are seen in the light of religion. Anything that comes from the heart is proper and acceptable. We will not go wrong if we keep in mind the central purpose of the meeting for worship, and are striving to fulfill this purpose. Let your heart respond to the need of our meetings for a vital ministry. Open yourself and accept, should it come to you, the call to an inspired ministry.

Should messages come one after the other in rapid succession? No. There should be a due interval between them, a living silence in which the spirit works deep below the level of words. Messages should arise from the silence and return to it. Of course there are times when one message arises from another. Even so, there should be pauses between them during which the creative forces may operate in unexpected ways. Restraint of speech improves both the speech and the silence. Read what Thomas Kelly has to say of spoken words in his pamphlet, The Gathered Meeting.

But more frequently some words are spoken. I have in mind those meeting hours which are not dominated by a single sermon, a single twenty-minute address, well-rounded out, with all the edges tucked in so there is nothing more to say. In some of our meetings we may have too many polished examples of homiletic perfection which lead the rest to sit back and admire but which close the question considered, rather than open it. Participants are converted into spectators; active worship on the part of all drifts into passive reception of external instruction. To be sure, there are gathered meetings, which arise about a single towering mountain peak of a sermon. One kindled soul may be the agent whereby the slumbering embers within are quickened into a living flame.

But I have more particularly in mind those hours of worship in which no one person, no one speech stands out as the one that “made” the meeting, those hours wherein the personalities that take part verbally are not enhanced as individuals in the eyes of others, but are subdued and softened and lost sight of because in the language of Fox, “The Lord’s power was over all.” Brevity, earnestness, sincerity and frequently a lack of polish characterizes the best Quaker speaking. The words should rise like a shaggy crag upthrust from the surface of silence, under the pressure of river power and yearning, contrition and wonder. But on the other hand the words should not rise up like a shaggy crag. They should not break the silence, but continue it. For the Divine Life who was ministering through the medium of silence is the same Life as is now ministering through words. And when such words are truly spoken “in the Life,” then when such words cease the uninterrupted silence and worship continue, for silence and words have been of one texture, one piece. Second and third speakers only continue the enhancement of the moving Presence, until a climax is reached, and the discerning head of the meeting knows when to break it.

WHAT ARE WE TO DO IF SOME FRIENDS ARE SOMETIMES OVER-VOCAL ABOUT MATTERS THAT ARE HARDLY THE PROPER CONCERN FOR A MEETING FOR WORSHIP? How are we to regard those who do not always speak acceptably to us, or are overlong in their words, or who get up and repeat what we have heard them say again and again? Instead of viewing them as objects of criticism, separated from you, try to feel them as being together with you in a common life, and pray that the Creator of this life may make all expressions living expressions. Do not let your resentment build up, but increase your humility by recognizing that the faults that others display may well be your own.

HOW ARE WE TO MANAGE THE OCCASIONAL RUSTLINGS AND NOISES, WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE MEETING, THAT THREATENS TO DISTRACT US AND DRAW US AWAY FROM WORSHIP? Here Douglas Steere has a helpful practice. Try to include these distractions in one’s worship. Instead of attempting to exclude them, weave them into your efforts to practice the presence of God. Read what Douglas Steere has to say of this in A Quaker Meeting for Worship.

But again and again before I get through this far in prayer my mind has been drawn away by some distraction. Someone has come in late. Two adorable little girls who are sitting on opposite sides of their mother are almost overcome by delight in something which is much too subtle to be comprehended by the adult mind, the drafts in the coal stove need readjusting, how noisy the cars are out on the highway today, the wind howls around the corner and rattles the old pre-revolutionary glass in the window sashes. Do these rude interruptions destroy the silent prayer? Well, there was a time when they did, and there are times still when they interfere somewhat, but for the most part, I think they help. The late-comers stir me to a resolve to be more punctual myself a fault I am all too well aware of and I pass directly on to prayer, glad that they have come today. The little girls remind me of the undiscovered gaiety in every cell of life that these little “bon-vivants” know ever so well, and they remind me too that a meeting for worship must be made to reach these fierce-eyed nine- and ten-year-olds, and I pass on. I get up and open the draft in the coal stove. Sometimes I pray the distractions directly into the prayer “swift, hurrying life of which these humming motors are the symbol pass by at your will I seek the still water that lies beneath these surface waves,” or “the wind of God is always blowing but I must hoist my sail,” and proceed with my prayer.

WHAT ARE WE TO DO WHEN A MEETING IS UNLIVING? Suffer it. Continue to do your part to contribute to the life. Continue to pray that God will quicken the meeting, shake it awake. Suppose you yourself are heavy with inertia and feel more dead than alive. The only way to overcome inertia is to become active. Since, in a meeting for worship, our bodies are still, the only positive action is inner-action. We have already considered several inward practices that facilitate inner-action. Engage in one or more of these with renewed determination. See your deadness as a challenge and resolve not to be overcome by it but to overcome it. Struggle against it. Persist in the act of turning your mind and heart Godwards. Kindle your expectancy. Wait before the Lord. Think of Him. Pray Him to send His life into you, and into the meeting, and into the people of the world. Should these inward practices prove of no avail, I sometimes fall back on this device. There is always in us some theme that the mind wants to think of, some fear, some desire, some problems, some situation, some prospect. Though the theme is not a fit one for a meeting for worship, I let my mind run on about it. Once the mind is well started on this topic, I switch it and transfer its momentum to one of the practices that prepare for worship.

HOW SHOULD WE COME TO MEETING? Reluctantly? No. Burdened by a feeling of obligation to attend? No. Expecting something dull and tedious? No! If a meeting evokes only dullness in its members it is a dead meeting and ought to be laid down. A live meeting evokes life. Just the prospect of attending such a meeting should quicken us. It were better to come alive doing housework than to become deadened in a meeting house.

Come with the expectancy that, as you make effort to turn yourself Godwards, the life deep within you will arise, and meet you half-way, and call you, and draw you, gather you into God’s presence. Come with the hope that the Teacher within will teach you of spiritual things. Come with the expectancy that as you meet with other Friends, in this very gathering you and they will be shaken awake by the impact of God’s power, and made to tremble, and become actual Quakers. Come with the prayer that one and all may be “brought through the very ocean of darkness and death, by the eternal, glorious power of Christ, into the ocean of light and love.”

WHAT SHOULD WE DO, IN AND OUT OF MEETING, IN OUR PERIODS OF WORSHIP AND IN OUR DAILY LIVES? Practice the presence of God. Practice, as far as we are able, the love of God and the love of man and all creation. But let George Fox declare it to us, as he declared it to the early Friends and to people of all ranks and conditions in two continents. “All people must first come to the Spirit of God in themselves, by which they might know God and Christ, of whom the prophets and apostles learnt; by which Spirit they might have fellowship with the Son, and with the Father, and with the Scriptures, and with one another; and without this Spirit they can know neither God nor Christ, nor the Scriptures, nor have right fellowship one with another.”