CHAPTER 3
QUAKER WORSHIP PRACTICES
1. Introduction
This chapter seeks to determine how central Quaker practices are to the life of that community. As demonstrated in Chapter Two, an understanding of the sociological character of Australian religious and spiritual life facilitates understanding of the organizational structures of Quakers and Unitarians in South Australia. Although there are considerable differences between their organizational structures, commonalities certainly exist between the two communities in terms of their histories of dissent within the broad Protestant tradition, their early colonial settlement in the State of South Australia, the size of their congregations, and the location of their places of worship. They are indeed both religions of “becoming”; but notwithstanding these similarities, there are many differences in their religious practices. An examination of these differences will form the majority of this thesis.
The basic tenets of Quaker philosophy have been defined as “the substitution of instinct for convention and conscience for conformity—in short, a moral passion or an inner light” (Nathan 1971:119). With these words in mind, a description of the practice of Quaker worship and its moral passion will be set out; including the right ordering of business meetings, as these are held within the framework of a meeting for worship and are considered an important part of spiritual life.
Although Australian Quakers do not practice some Christian rites, such as baptism or christening, they do have particular ways of celebrating marriages and marking the death of members. Accordingly, the procedures and practices surrounding both of these events will also be described.
2. Meetings for Worship
Come regularly to meeting for worship even when you are angry, depressed, tired or spiritually cold. In the silence ask for and accept the prayerful support of others joined with you in find a spiritual wholeness which encompasses suffering as well as thankfulness and joy. Prayer, springing from a deep place in the heart, may bring healing and unity as nothing else can. Let meeting for worship nourish your whole life.[1]
The above advice given to Australian Quakers would be understood by Quakers globally; however, the majority of Quakers throughout the world have a form of programmed worship which developed out of the nineteenth century North
American revivalist movement. This form of worship has the pastor’s sermon as its focal point and is similar to the form of service used in many Protestant churches. Australian Quakers, on the other hand, form part of a much smaller minority which follows the un-programmed tradition based on silent worship which developed in England in the seventeenth century. [2]
Within the Adelaide metropolitan area there are two locations where unprogrammed meetings for worship are held each Sunday morning. The main venue is the Friends Meeting House in North Adelaide.
2.1 Friends Meeting House
Friends Meeting House[3] is a heritage-listed, plain wooden building which is painted a bluish grey. It is the only meeting house in South Australia which is owned by the Religious Society of Friends and its structure is of historical significance. A 1925 newspaper article described the meeting house as follows:-
The only wooden structure now in use in Adelaide as a house of worship is the Friends' Meeting House (dating from the 'forties) beside St. Peter's Cathedral, North Adelaide, and within its grounds are several graves, for the Friends had a cemetery there in the earliest years of the State.[4]
Meeting for worship is held every Sunday morning for an hour. It is called a meeting because adherents meet in an assembly for worship. When people arrive, they are formally welcomed by someone stationed outside the building. Usually, people know each other quite well and warmly greet each other. Regular attenders walk over to a small board positioned outside the porch and take name tags which are attached, and then pin them to their clothing, before entering the building. This is done for the benefit of visitors or newcomers who might not know the names of those people attending.
Visitors are well received and when greeted are asked whether they are visiting and if they have attended a Quaker meeting before. If it is the first time they have attended, they will be given a temporary name tag and may be offered leaflets or other information in order to prepare them for the experience.
On the occasion now described which was early in my fieldwork, I was also formally greeted on arrival and asked whether I was a visitor. The greeter had not remembered me from previous visits and I was given a temporary name tag to wear.
People don’t often congregate outside the building before the meeting commences and so it was unusual that there were several small groups of people, most of whom I recognized as members of the meeting, standing in the courtyard deep in quiet discussion. They were too engrossed in this activity to notice my arrival. In conversation later, it was revealed that there had been a business meeting held earlier which had been rather gruelling, and some people were upset and had congregated afterwards to talk.
I made my way into the building through the porch, which has a small display of Quaker literature and a visitors’ book. Inside the porch, there is another doorway which leads directly into the meeting house proper. This door was slightly ajar and so I opened it and then quickly entered and took a seat on a vacant pew among the twenty or so people who were already quietly seated.
Traditionally, the meeting begins as soon as the first person arrives and sits down in silence. This can be before the scheduled starting time. Because I had attended many meetings for worship, I knew what to expect, and sat as still as I could; but at the same time, my eyes were roaming the room, looking for familiar faces amongst those who were assembled. It was also hard to ignore the stark beauty of this simple wooden building with its bluish-grey walls which have no adornment apart from a clock and an air-conditioner.
There is carpet on the floor and a small central table on which there are placed a few Quaker books. There are several rows of long wooden benches with loose cushions. The benches all face towards the centre. There is also a slightly raised platform at the other side of the room opposite the door, which has benches that also face towards the centre. There are several upholstered chairs positioned half way along the wall for older, or disabled, members who require more comfort. The configuration of the seating and the aesthetics of the building appear to mark this as Quaker space.
The first fifteen to twenty minutes of the meeting is often the most difficult for participants. This is the time when they are trying to centre-down, or find an inward stillness, as they settle into the silence. It is also the time when late-comers arrive, which some find disturbing to this process. After about ten minutes, the greeter comes inside the meeting house and shuts the door before taking a seat. People do still join the meeting after that time, but most people have arrived by the time the door is shut. On this occasion it took longer because so many people entered the room after the scheduled starting time. When everyone had taken their seats, the attendance had increased to about thirty.
People sit facing the centre, but not necessarily facing each other, as those sitting closer to the centre cannot see the faces of those sitting on benches behind them. There is no prescribed way of sitting although people usually sit in an upright position. Some have their eyes closed or look downwards, whereas others look straight ahead. People sit with their hands clasped in their laps, with their arms folded, or with their hands in their laps, palms facing upwards. Legs may also be kept crossed or uncrossed. The most important things are silence and stillness.
This requires self-discipline and control over bodily movement.
The core of the un-programmed meeting for worship is undeniably silent waiting.
Participants are waiting for promptings or inspiration which some believe are Spirit-led. It is difficult to be still and silent during this process. The body sometimes cannot be controlled as people cough, stifle a sneeze or a yawn, or feel uncomfortable and change position in their chairs. Although the meeting may be described as silent, there is never a complete silence, just an absence of spoken word; and remarkably, the background noise coming from the outside world, or the occasional cough, does not seem to intrude too much.
During the initial phase of worship it is unusual for spoken ministry to be offered. It is a time when people find it more difficult to centre their thoughts, and silence and stillness are sought. As the absence of spoken word continues, a sense of calmness seems to prevail and a feeling of settling into the silence itself ensues. One participant, who had attended meetings since childhood, explained that during the silence it was possible to go to what was described as “a personal centre of inner peace.” What was sought was a deep stillness within or “that place that you go to just before you go into a deep, peaceful sleep.”[5]
Participants are often distracted by intrusive thoughts and have reported that it is difficult to get rid of what they describe as mind chatter. Sometimes that distraction appears less, and it is then that the silence seems more intense, and congregants say that there is a feeling of warmth for, and closeness towards, others who are present.
Sometimes a meeting is totally silent, but more usually, there will be some spoken ministry. When someone does stand up to speak, this provides an opportune moment for others to uncross the legs, stretch the foot, or wriggle on the seat to a more comfortable position. The hard wooden benches do seem to become more uncomfortable as the time progresses. So in this regard, the break from the silence is welcome.
Typically, there are several offerings of spoken ministry during the hour of worship. On this occasion this proved to be the case, as there were three people who offered spoken ministry. All speakers were long-term members of the community and there appeared to be no gendered aspect to offering spoken ministry. The first speaker stood up, rising slowly and deliberately from the chair and stood still with head slightly bowed. He spoke for a few minutes about the virtues of being a peace maker. This ministry was not delivered as oratory. There was a certain humbleness and reverence in delivery, and when Quaker terminology was used, it seemed to add more weight to what was said. When finished, the speaker quietly resumed his seat.
On this occasion, as is usually the case, participants in the meeting sit still and silently whilst someone ministers. Sometimes people will open their eyes and concentrate their attention on the speaker, but generally people remain in the same position as they have been whilst meditating. Some people believe that ministry can be inspired by the Spirit; and all believe that ministry should be from the heart and not an intellectual project. Whilst ministry is being given, it is not difficult to be struck by the contrast between the controlled silence of those assembled and the sometimes emotional delivery of spoken ministry.
After about ten minutes silence, the second speaker stood up in a similar manner to the first speaker and spoke for a few minutes about the importance, and value, of following Quaker decision-making process correctly. When he had resumed his seat, another period of silence followed, which was interrupted when a parent brought a small child into the meeting.[6] This interruption did not appear to disturb the meeting, which continued in silence. After a few minutes the final speaker stood up, mentioning with approval that a small child had joined in the silence and the value of that silence for all. After the final spoken ministry, the meeting returned to silence.
Equal importance is assumed for ministry and silence; nevertheless, a meeting will always be based on silence not ministry. Subsequent ministry often builds on earlier ministry. On this occasion, ministry was themed around the Quaker notions of peace-making, silence and correct Quaker process. This was understandable given that there had been a disturbing local business meeting preceding the meeting for worship, in which it was contended that proper Quaker procedure may not have been followed.
A collective silence has been described by participants as a more intense experience than individual meditation. Certainly, it seems that the intensity of silence increases as the meeting continues and many Quakers feel that this intensity is highest towards the end of the meeting.
As the end of the hour approaches, two members of the meeting turn to each other and shake hands which signifies that the meeting is finished. This gesture is prearranged and signals to all present that it is now time for them to shake hands with those seated closest to them. This is done with a degree of warmth, but fairly quietly, as formal proceedings have not yet quite finished.
The Clerk of the meeting must read out any announcements which are usually about business meetings, social activities, social concerns, or news of members who are ill. Visitors are welcomed, and if anyone has come from an overseas meeting, that person may offer greetings from that meeting in return. When this formality is completed, everyone is reminded that refreshments are now available in the meeting house library. People now freely talk to one another as they leave the building.
The library and kitchen are in a separate building across the courtyard. There are Quaker books on the library shelves which can be borrowed and various other displays and leaflets on Quaker-related activities and social justice concerns. Tea and coffee is served from the small kitchen area. Silence is no longer observed and people chat readily, often gathering into small groups, if they have a matter they wish to discuss. Some members approach me and enquire about my study, eager to know what has been discovered.
I left after having some refreshments and walked past the Anglican cathedral adjacent to the meeting house. On the steps of the cathedral, there was a procession of people dressed in gowns with a big black and white insignia. It appeared to be some sort of investiture. The officiating priest wore very elaborate robes. After attending the Quaker meeting with its lack of outward elaboration, I was struck by the enormous contrast in ritual aesthetics.
2.2 Other Meetings
The Friends Meeting House is the major venue for Sunday morning worship; however, the Eastern Suburbs Meeting, which is the second biggest Quaker worshipping group in South Australia, also meets each Sunday in a local Guide Hall. This meeting has been operating for over forty years in this same location.
The small hall is situated in one of Adelaide’s more affluent suburbs and is set on a small reserve with a creek running through it. A small bridge across the creek and a pathway lead to its entrance.
I have been a member of this meeting since joining in the 1980s, although I have not been substantially involved for some time. Most of those attending have been doing so for many years, and some, since its inception. There are no official greeters here, and early arrivals chatter as they arrange about twenty chairs in a circular shape ready for the commencement of the meeting. People are acknowledged as they enter the room, but when it is the scheduled starting time, the room falls silent and people take their seats.
People who arrive after the start of meeting make their way to a chair as quietly as possible and are usually greeted by a smile from those already seated. Because the chairs are placed in a circular shape, those assembled sit facing each other around the circle. In this configuration, there is a levelling effect and participants are very aware of each other’s presence. In the middle of the circle is a small wooden table on which there is a small vase of flowers and several Quaker books.
The hall has one main room with adjacent amenities and small kitchen area. One member is responsible for heating the kitchen urn and putting provisions on a bench in readiness for the after-meeting tea and coffee.
Whereas the inside of the meeting house is unadorned, these walls have white boards which have been decorated by the guides to promote, and display, various guide-related activities. It is impossible to ignore the splash of colour around the walls.
There is nothing about the hall which would indicate a Quaker presence, although plans are in progress for placing a small notice on the outside door whilst the meeting is in progress. The hall is rented for a few hours each week by this group, solely for the purpose of worship. At other times, there is no sense that this is Quaker space. All books relating to Quakers are placed in a corner cupboard out of sight. Every Sunday; however, for a few hours the space is transformed, by the placing of chairs, a table, a display of several Quaker books, and by the presence of a small group of worshippers.
There were fourteen people present for the Sunday meeting for worship which is now described. Most of these people have been coming to this meeting for many years. It was a hot day and so the air-conditioner was welcome. After ten minutes or so of bubbling away, the urn is deemed hot enough, and the person responsible stands up and leaves the circle to turn it down. This somehow does not disturb the meeting’s silence and it continues.
Participants observe the silence in the same way as those at the Adelaide Meeting
House. Sometimes, a person will open a Quaker book and read. All this is expected and embraced within the meeting, but most people strive for the silence and stillness of body. In the same way that participants at Adelaide Meeting House sit during the silence, those assembled in the Guide Hall sit with their hands clasped in their laps, with their arms folded or with their hands in their laps, palms facing upwards. Although there is no correct way of sitting, ideally there is stillness. People tend to arrive later for meeting at this location, which makes the settling in period sometimes longer, but there are only minor differences in the form of the meeting.
The small circle of participants gradually becomes a space of gathered stillness and silence. One thing that strikes the observer is that there is a total contrast between what happens in a meeting for worship and what is happening in the outside world. Inside the building, everyone is intent on keeping as silent and still as possible because every movement can be heard. The body has to be kept in check and under control. There cannot be absolute silence because there is almost constant noise from outside the building as cars pass by, birds sing or the wind blows through the large gum trees situated nearby. People ride their bikes on the path outside the door, or walk past deep in conversation, totally unaware that a meeting for worship is being held inside the small building.
It was Palm Sunday—an important day in the Christian calendar— but no recognition of this was made during the meeting for worship or in conversation afterwards. This was a totally silent meeting. This is not unusual, but on most Sundays there are three or four spoken ministries arising out of the silence. A totally silent meeting can be difficult to attend. The hour seems to take longer to pass when it is not broken by ministry. It seems easier to be distracted by mind chatter and by the colourful guide displays. There are periods during the meeting though when these distractions lessen and then the silence seems to intensify, especially in the final ten to fifteen minutes. The perceived depth of the communal silence, which is termed “a gathered meeting” is highly valued by participants.
After an hour of silence, the Clerk turned to those on either side of her and held their hands. This signalled the end of the meeting. Then everyone held hands standing up in a circle for a short time, in silence and with eyes closed. The silence was broken by the Clerk welcoming everyone and then everyone sat quietly as she read out notices relating to news of Friends and activities for the coming week. Everyone was then encouraged to stay for light refreshments and to chat for a while.
The time allocated for refreshments was shortened this particular day because there was a scheduled informal “Getting to Know You” session to be held. After refreshments, people returned to their seats and the group returned to silence for a short time. The purpose of this silence was different from that of a meeting for worship. Instead of being an expectant silence waiting for inspiration; this silence was to put people in the right frame of mind, as one participant explained.
The person leading the session decided when the silence could be broken and then gave a friendly and informal talk explaining how she came to be involved with Quakers, and then talked about her work and family. The idea of these sessions was so that people could get to know each other better, particularly those who have not been attending for very long. When the talk was finished, the person leading the session was thanked for her contribution and then people started to stack up the chairs, put the books away and remove the tea and coffee making facilities. Within a short space of time, the hall returned to being Guide space once again.
There are differences between the two meetings. Most obviously, the spaces in which the meetings are held are quite aesthetically different, and the atmosphere in the Guide Hall seems to be less formal and a bit more relaxed.
This meeting was originally started in the 1960s by disaffected members of
Adelaide Meeting House and has remained as an alternative venue since that time. People who attend here have remarked that they feel at home, comfortable, or have a sense of cohesion and harmony when worshipping at this meeting.[7]
There are a few smaller meetings which are located in the hills, southern suburbs, and the Fleurieu Peninsula. These are also less formal, and the attendees have a strong commitment to each other and their meeting. The smaller groups have few contentious business matters to consider and so there is a supportive and friendly milieu. Any newcomers are warmly welcomed. The further a small meeting is located from the Adelaide city centre, the less connectivity to the wider Quaker community there appears to be; however, all meetings in South Australia and the Northern Territory fall under the protection of the same regional meeting structure.
Undoubtedly, factors such as location, the furnishings of the meeting place, number of people assembled, and the participants themselves, all ensure that no meeting for worship is quite the same as another; however, the basic form of silence, stillness and ministry is common to all. On the South Australian Quaker website, a local member offers this explanation of his experience of attending a meeting for worship:
There is no ritual or order of service. We gather together, in a silent meeting, usually for an hour or so. The silence may continue for the whole time. Or, after a period of settling into the stillness, one Friend may feel led to speak to the group. This will be followed by a period of reflection on that ministry. Others may subsequently be led to speak as well; or may not. At the end of the hour, we shake hands with each
other and the meeting has come to an end. [8]
This simple description could apply, with minor variations, to any of the meetings held in South Australia; and undoubtedly, to all other un-programmed meetings held in Australia and overseas.
3. Meetings for Worship for Business
Are your meetings for church affairs held in a spirit of worship
and in dependence on the guidance of God? Remember that we do not seek a majority decision nor even consensus. As we wait patiently for divine guidance our experience is that the right way will open and we shall be led into unity (Advices & Queries 1.02.14).
Business meetings are held regularly within the Quaker community. There are two types of Meetings for Worship for Business held: South Australia/Northern Territory Regional Meeting and Local Meetings for Worship for Business. Regional meetings are held bi-monthly and are most often held in the meeting house; but several times a year they are held in other local meeting venues, either within the Adelaide metropolitan area, or in nearby locations such as the Fleurieu Peninsula, in order to provide a more inclusive approach to decision-making.
The local business meeting deals with issues affecting it, and its membership, in addition to discussing wider matters of interest to Quakers in South Australia and nationally. Local business meetings are usually attended by members of that particular group and tend to be less formal, whereas the regional meeting is attended by members from all the South Australian meetings.
Regional meeting deals with matters affecting all Quakers in South Australia and Northern Territory as well as making decisions which also impact on decisionmaking at the Australia-wide level. It is open to all members who belong to local meetings within the responsibility of the regional meeting. Attenders who are not in membership can also receive permission to attend.
The Quaker Handbook of Practice and Procedure[9] states (2011:1.4.4) that its business meetings are to be regarded as occasions of prayerful worship. Decisions are meant to be reached collectively to discern the will of God. It is traditionally considered a Spirit-led process. The Handbook also notes that the importance of the “worshipful seeking of God’s guidance” is reflected in the name itself, i.e., “Meeting for Worship for Business.”[10] Most importantly, Quakers believe in corporate decision-making in their business meetings. Those wishing to speak on a topic, stand to attract the Clerk’s attention. There is no voting. As explained in the Handbook, group unity is sought rather than unanimity, consensus, or the will of the majority holding sway.
Silence is maintained whilst other members of the meeting are speaking. Once members have spoken on a topic, the Clerk drafts the minute according to what is considered to be the sense of the meeting. This is the most important duty of the Clerk and considerable effort is made to reach a well-worded minute, which is then read out to the meeting. This first draft is then amended, if necessary, after listening to the comments of those present. Whilst the Clerk is drafting the minutes, those present sit in silence. The Clerk is not expected to express a personal view on the matters to be decided. Instead, the decision-making process is one which, according to Jones (1927:68), gathers up the corporate wisdom of the body.
Regional and local business meetings have a similar format. Typically, there are fifteen to twenty members in attendance for regional meeting, and generally they are members of the two largest local meetings. All members are encouraged to attend business meetings but some members never attend, and others attend very regularly.
The seating arrangements for business meetings are not different from an ordinary meeting, except that the Clerk and the Assistant Clerk are seated centrally at a table so that they can record the proceedings. Business meetings do differ substantially though from an ordinary meeting because there is a set structure in the form of an agenda. The items on the agenda necessarily vary for each meeting, but the following structure for a regional meeting is fairly typical.
Opening Worship
The business meeting begins with a period of silence, followed by a reading which is often taken from a Quaker source, such as Quaker Faith & Practice, but it can be from any other source. After a period of opening silence, the Clerk read out the following words:
When early Friends affirmed the priesthood of all believers it was seen as an abolition of the clergy; in fact it is an abolition of the laity.
All members are part of the clergy and have the clergy’s responsibility for the maintenance of the meeting as a community. This means helping to contribute, in whatever ways are most suitable, to the maintenance of an atmosphere in which spiritual growth and exploration are possible for all (Quaker Faith & Practice 2005: Para 11.01).
Acknowledgement of country
The Clerk acknowledged the Kaurna and Ngarrindjeri peoples.
As our nation once again turns its attention to reconciliation, we acknowledge that this is whitefella business, and does not necessarily deal with the very real political and historical injustices still being experienced by Aboriginal Australians. Today we acknowledge the lands of the Kaurna and Ngarrindjeri peoples on which we meet, and pay our respects to their traditions, their culture and their elders. We acknowledge our responsibilities as a Regional Meeting to working towards greater justice for First Nations people, and to listen to their desires for the future of this place.
Membership Matters
Regional meeting is the forum for the consideration of requests for membership from attenders; in addition to the resignations, and transfers of membership to, and from, different regional meetings. For new members, there are no membership induction ceremonies but there is a procedure which is followed on receipt of applications. Written membership applications are received by the Clerk of the meeting and then tabled at regional meeting.
The application is read out by the Clerk and it typically states why the person has been drawn to Friends, e.g., “it feels like I’ve come home.” Generally, the person has attended for many years before seeking membership status and is well known to those present and so the application is received warmly. Once the meeting has approved that the application be considered, two Friends are appointed as visitors to the applicant.
At a subsequent regional meeting, a report written by the visitors is read out to the members present. The report often notes the applicant’s spiritual journey prior to making the decision to apply for membership and how the applicant wishes to live life in the Quaker way. The Clerk then asks those members present whether the applicant should be accepted into membership. It is usually the case that everyone is delighted by this prospect and calls of “I hope so” are clearly heard amongst those present. It is usually decided to present the applicant with a Quaker book to mark the occasion of acceptance into membership.
It is unlikely that any applicant would be denied membership, but if the applicant is a newcomer with very little knowledge of Quaker ways, it is possible that the person may be counselled to wait a little longer before applying. Quakers don’t consider new members to be converts and use the term “Quaker by convincement”[11] instead.
Importantly, the formal application of membership procedure provides the community with the opportunity to welcome a new member. Although there is no formal ceremony in which the prospective member takes part, there is formalization and acknowledgement of the convincement process by the group.
This We Can Say
This section is a more recent addition to the agenda, and in this part of the meeting, participants are able to share with others how “the Truth” has prospered in their lives since last regional meeting. Members are reminded that these offerings are not decisions of the meeting but personal ministry about Quaker life. Members may offer ministry on the power of Quaker silent worship, for example, or how to respond to current problems facing disadvantaged sectors of Australian society.
Treasurer’s Report
The treasurer reads out the report on the meeting’s financial situation and then answers any questions from those present.
Ministry and Oversight
A report by the Ministry and Oversight Committee is presented to the meeting. This committee has responsibility for a range of matters affecting local members and also covers issues involving the whole Australian membership.
Correspondence
The Clerk tables any correspondence received or sent since the last regional
meeting.
Any other matters to consider
One such matter which comes before regional meeting is the organization of the annual weekend get-together for South Australian and Northern Territory members and attenders. This meeting also has responsibility for discussing matters which
rebirth of self as a step towards a deepening relationship with God. Early Quakers believed that their lives could be transformed by this experience. The term “convincement” rather than “conversion” denoted a change of heart (Spencer 2004:155). This term is still in use.
affect Quakers Australia-wide. It could involve a request by the Australian Yearly Meeting for South Australia to adopt particular policies on child protection, for example, or preparations for the holding of future Yearly Meetings.
Once the agenda has been considered, the Clerk leads the group into the final section of the meeting.
Silent worship
The Clerk asks that there should be a period of silent worship to end the meeting. This is usually a fairly brief period of silence, after which members quietly leave and make their way out of the building.
The most obvious difference between an ordinary meeting for worship and a business meeting is that the latter is held with a different purpose in mind, i.e., conducting the business of the organisation, and this necessitates having a structure set by an agenda. Although there are periods of silence at the beginning and end of the meeting, and an opportunity for congregants to minister in another section of the meeting, there is limited time for silence or reflection during proceedings as there are usually many items on the agenda.
Although the major purpose is the conduct of business, it is clear that Quakers still consider that conducting their business is a form of spiritual practice. Due to the importance placed on business meetings, from time to time there are differing opinions among members as to what is correct Quaker procedure, and this has led to disagreements within the community which have been difficult to resolve.
Although meetings for worship and business are regularly held, rites of passage are much less frequent occurrences. When I mentioned to a long-term member that I intended to explore rites of passage, I was told, “Good luck with that one!” Another member replied, “We don’t have any rites of passage at all. There are no rites of passage…”
These rejoinders were made because Quakers have little outward elaboration in their practices and, as a result, do not consider them to be rites. The birth of a Quaker child, for example, although welcomed with delight by the meeting, is not accompanied by any formal rite such as baptism or a naming ceremony. However, Friends do mark two important life transitions among their community: the marriage and death of members. Of these two life transitions, the one least likely to be encountered is marriage.
4. Marriage and Committed Relationships
4.1 Historical Background
In mid seventeenth century England, the only religious marriage ceremony sanctioned by the Church was that solemnized by Church of England clergy. In 1653, when the Puritan government was in a position of power, it declared marriage to be no longer a sacrament. Instead, marriage was decreed to be a civil contract which no longer needed the services of a priest and could be performed by a justice of the peace or registrar (Monger 2004:225). In response to these declarations, a pronouncement was made by George Fox (1669) regarding marriage and Quakers which has resonated with Friends since that time. He stated:
For the right joining in Marriage is the work of the Lord only, and not the priests or magistrates; for it is God’s ordinance, not man’s; and therefore Friends cannot consent that they should join them together: for we marry none; it is the Lord’s work, and we are but witnesses (George Fox 1669 quoted in Handbook 2011: 4.3.5).
In response to the de-sacralising of marriage, Quakers formulated their own procedures. According to Monger (2004:225), an epistle sent to fellow Quakers by Margaret Fell [12] in 1656 set out three requirements for marriage: proper preliminary procedures, a wedding ceremony which included an exchange of declarations by the couple and the subsequent signing of the document by witnesses to the ceremony. An efficient method of registration of the marriage was also recommended.
The betrothed couple were required to appear at the monthly meeting where the prospective bride was a member, to declare an intention to marry. The meeting appointed several members to investigate and report as to whether there were any impediments to the marriage proceeding. At the next monthly meeting, the couple had to again make clear their intention, and if no impediment had been reported, they were given approval to marry at a meeting for worship scheduled for that purpose (Monger 2004:226).
According to Dandelion (2005:52), the need for strict marriage procedures and meticulous record keeping became even more apparent after the Restoration, when the legality of Quaker marriages was disputed by the Church of England, although successive civil law judgments confirmed their legality. Although subsequent legislation only recognized marriages conducted by the established church, it made exemptions for those ceremonies conducted by Quakers or those of Jewish faith.
As stated by Dandelion (2005:52), Friends were aware that they had been given a privileged position regarding their marriage procedures and were very diligent in abiding by legal requirements, carefully recording details of their marriages and reporting them to the appropriate authorities. Strict regulations regarding marriage were enforced. Not only was it difficult to marry within the Quaker community, practices such as disownment discouraged members from marrying out of the Society. Other marriage-related events which attracted the penalty of disownment, according to Dandelion, included being married by, or attending a wedding performed by, a priest; or entering upon marriage without parental or the meeting’s permission.
Most importantly, to comply with legal requirements, marriage could only take place if the bride and the groom were both Quakers. This stipulation was still in force when the first group of Quaker settlers arrived in South Australia and proved a difficulty, as often suitable partners could not be found among the small number of Quakers in the new colony.[13] One of the major reasons for disownment in South Australia was marrying out. Friends who found a partner who was not associated with the Quaker community were pressured by the meeting to resign; if they did not resign, a disownment document was sent (Stevenson 2010:13-14, 34).
Even leading members of the South Australian Quaker community were affected by the policy; however by 1859, the practice of disownment was discontinued and this made it much easier for Quakers to find a marriage partner. Nevertheless, as pointed out by Stevenson (2010: 30), the process of getting married was lengthy as the marriage had to be approved by monthly meetings which were held in Britain and this approval could take more than a year to obtain.
Although Quakers had obstacles to overcome before they could marry, historians (Mack 1992:157, Davidoff & Hall 1991:216) have also pointed out that Quakerism was a movement which involved the family and local neighbourhood, and which drew on ethical norms associated with kinship and friendship. Davidoff and Hall (1991:216, 86, 56) demonstrate how historically English Quaker ideas of kinship and friendship overlapped, so that the local meeting and Quaker family homes both became sites to build up trusted business networks and social networks to find suitable marriage partners.
Other religious groups also used notions associated with family, friendship and kinship, but in an entirely different way. According to Andrews (1963), the Shakers, who had a tenuous historical link with Quakers, called all adherents by the kinship terms “brothers and sisters” and their founder was called “Mother.” However, the Shakers disallowed marriage and the bearing of children. Instead of bearing their own children, they took in orphans and brought them up in the faith.
Quakers, on the other hand, historically often had large families.
The importance placed on family life is indicated by the depiction of two Quaker settler families on panels created by the South Australian Quaker Tapestry group,[14] as part of the Australian Quaker Tapestry Project, which portrays the history of Australian Quaker values and accomplishments. It is also indicated in an informal code of conduct between spouses and between family members, which is spelt out in the Handbook, and often re-enforced within ministry offered in a meeting for worship.
In his examination of American kinship, Schneider remarked (1980:54) that friends are relatives who can be ditched if necessary. The term “Friend” used by Quakers to reference themselves means something more than the usual definition of friendship. Among Quakers, along with the usual ideas of friendship there is the commitment to spiritual friendship within the meeting and within committed relationships. The most important committed relationship is that of marriage.
4.2 A Contemporary Quaker Wedding
The process of getting married for current Quakers is nowhere near as arduous as it was historically but there are certain procedures that must be followed. According to the Handbook, the couple intending to enter into marriage must write to their regional meeting Clerk requesting that the meeting will agree to recognize their relationship and to make arrangements for a special meeting for worship to be held for that purpose. This special meeting can be either for a marriage, or alternatively, a celebration of commitment.
The wording of the vows to be exchanged must also be agreed upon if they are very different from that set out in the Handbook. The regional meeting establishes whether the couple understands the nature of the commitment being made and ascertains that no impediment to the marriage exists. Australian Quakers treat all requests for celebration of marriage within the meetings equally, regardless of gender of the partners. If marriage is not able to be legally recognized, Friends still celebrate the spiritual aspects of the ceremony.[15]
As many Quakers are middle-aged or older, a Quaker marriage is not a frequent event in South Australia, or indeed anywhere in Australia; but when it does occur, it is an opportunity not only for celebration for the Quaker community, but also, an opportunity to demonstrate Quaker practice to the wider community. Nevertheless, Quaker wedding ceremonies are not available to all. Weddings are usually restricted to couples in which at least one person is a member or attender, although exceptions may be allowed for those who are in sympathy with Quaker ideas. The Adelaide Meeting House is usually not available for the weddings of non-Quakers who are attracted to the venue for its historic or aesthetic value alone. This is because Quakers are convinced that marriage is a spiritual commitment.
I attended a Quaker wedding at the historic meeting house on a warm and sunny autumn morning. As I made my way through the grounds surrounding the Meeting House, I noticed that there were quite a few people, including members of the wedding party and family and friends, who were waiting outside for the bride and groom to arrive. Among those gathered, there was some uncertainty as to what to expect, as many had never attended a Quaker wedding before.
As I entered the meeting house, I noticed that there were ten people sitting quietly inside the building. I recognized them as being South Australian Quakers and most were members associated with the meeting for worship attended by the couple about to be married. They smiled in acknowledgement when I sat down quietly with them.
When the wedding guests walked into the meeting house, they were surprised to see people sitting silently inside. Most hesitated as they entered the room and appeared to be a bit confused as to where they should actually sit. The seating was in a different configuration from what they were used to seeing at a wedding. Seating was arranged on long wooden benches on all sides of the room so that all present could face the centre. There was no apparent division between where the bride or groom’s guests should sit for the ceremony and no pulpit for a minister.
Experienced Quakers know that the meeting commences as soon as one person sits down quietly, but the guests attending the wedding would not know this. The Quakers who were present did not seem unduly concerned with the chattering of wedding guests, but they maintained silence and stillness themselves.
The couple intending to marry was middle-aged and well-known to members of their Adelaide meeting for worship. They arrived together for their wedding without any ado or formal procession. The bride carried a small posy of flowers which she carefully placed on a central table. This was the only wedding decoration in the room. The meeting house looked surprisingly unadorned for the occasion.
The bridal party, including the attendants, wore formal but not elaborate attire. Apart from the bride and groom themselves, the members of the Quaker community were dressed as they would for an ordinary Sunday meeting and were easily distinguishable from the non-Quaker guests who, along with the bridal party, were much more formally attired.
Although the bride and groom arrived together, they did not sit together. Instead they took seats in separate front pews, facing each other. The attendants also sat down alongside them. The only person not seated was the Registering Officer of the Religious Society of Friends, who introduced herself by explaining that she was performing this role in order to comply with Australian law.
As soon as it was believed that there were no more guests likely to arrive, the meeting house door was closed. The Registering Officer explained that this gathering was to be a special Meeting for Worship for Marriage; and all present would not only be part of the celebration, but also, its witnesses. She stated that her role was to guide the congregation through a traditional process dating from the middle of the seventeenth century. Since that time, she explained, the Religious Society of Friends has maintained a simple marriage ceremony in which the couple, in the presence of a worshipping group, takes one another as partners in a life-long commitment, seeking divine assistance in the fulfilment of this promise.
For the benefit of those wedding guests who have never experienced Quaker worship, the Registrar outlined what happens at a Meeting for Worship for Marriage. She explained that its form is similar to that of an ordinary meeting for worship, but it would only be for half an hour. She stated that this special meeting, like all Quaker meetings, is based on silence although spoken ministry can be given by anyone present. It is important, she said, that this vocal ministry is received in silence as its message is absorbed. After this explanation, the Registrar announced that the meeting would now begin in silence.
Some of the younger wedding guests glanced around the room, and at each other, no doubt feeling somewhat unsure as to whether they would cope with sitting in silence. For the Quakers present though, it was re-assuring that there were other experienced Quakers in the room to maintain proper procedure.
After a short period of silence, a Quaker stood up and offered spoken ministry to those assembled. She said that marriage was worthwhile because it gave two people the opportunity to promise to love each other for the rest of their lives—an act which affirmed two peoples’ love for each other and thus for all people. She pointed out that it was important within a relationship to be also aware of each other’s differences, and to succeed in loving the expanse between the two, which allows the possibility of seeing each other as a whole. Her ministry ended, she then quietly sat down and the room again became enveloped in silence; but this time the silence seemed less forced, as if the congregation was now more comfortable within the silence and re-assured by the content of ministry.
After a few minutes, the bride and groom stood up quietly when they felt that the time was right, and stepped towards each other. Facing each other and taking each other’s hand, they in turn made their vows to each other and exchanged rings. The couple and their witnesses then signed the Quaker Certificate of Marriage as the congregation remained silent and still. The Registrar then read out the Quaker Marriage Certificate script which stated the vows that had just been exchanged by the couple.
On this day… at the Meeting House of the Religious Society of Friends, North Adelaide, South Australia, (the bride and groom),taking each other by the hand, each exchanged the following vow:
In the presence of the Light and the love of family and friends I take thee to be my beloved, promising to be a loving and faithful partner. I ask you to be no other than yourself. I promise to cherish and delight in your spirit and individuality. To face life’s challenges with patience and humour, to respect our differences and nurture our growth. This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and made for all time. In celebration of this commitment we set our hand….
The bride and groom then resumed their seats but instead of sitting on opposite pews, as before, they now sat side by side on the pew together. The meeting then continued in silence. After a short time, another Quaker stood up quietly and spoke about how the strength of a relationship can be measured by whether a couple can sit together in silence, opening to one another without the necessity for words. He explained that a meeting for worship was a good place to learn how to do that.
After this ministry, the group again fell silent. Then, between short periods of silence, several friends of the bride and groom, who were not members of the Quaker community, gathered courage to stand up and offer words of congratulations to the couple. Then a Quaker stood up and offered ministry about the importance of home as a place where one could go from the strains and stresses of life, and just be oneself. He said that a home should be a place of refreshment and renewal. A further period of silence ensued which was broken briefly by several wedding guests offering more congratulations and words of encouragement to the couple.
After a final period of silence, the Registrar checked her watch and then glanced at two fellow Quakers who nodded to her. The conclusion of the meeting was then signalled by two experienced Quakers turning to each other with a handshake. Then all present followed suit and shook the hands of others nearby as a sign of friendship and peace. The Meeting for Worship for Marriage was now ended, and the bride and groom, with their witnesses and the Registrar, left the meeting house and went to another room to sign the legal certificate of marriage.
Although the meeting for worship was finished, an important part of the process still had to be performed. After the wedding party left the meeting house to complete legal requirements, all others who were present at the ceremony were asked to be the witnesses and supporters of this marriage. This was signified by their signing the Friends’ Certificate of Marriage which was left in the meeting house for that purpose. Although this formed an important part of the proceedings, it was not enveloped in silence. Instead, people lined up to sign the certificate which was placed on the central table, and chattered whilst they waited for their turn to sign the large document, which included the wording of the wedding vows. I asked an experienced Quaker about the wording on the document and was told that Friends could choose their own wording, as long as it was in accord with Friends’ principles.
After the signing of the Friends’ Certificate of Marriage was completed and the bridal party had signed the legal certificate, all were invited for light refreshments in the courtyard where tea, coffee and biscuits were offered. The bridal party and guests also were present for refreshments, before departing for a private wedding reception for the couple’s family and friends.
The conviction that marriage is more than a civil contract is demonstrated by the fact that there are two marriage certificates: civil and Quaker. The Quaker certificate has no legal recognition. Its value lies in its spiritual recognition of the marriage by the Quaker community. Quakers believe that an enduring and loving relationship provides spiritual enrichment and they seek to support couples who make long-term commitment to one another. Importantly, in all cases, the marriage is solemnized within the framework of a meeting for worship.
It is considered essential that enough Quakers are present to conduct the meeting correctly, to show by example what should be done during worship, and to come “concerned for the spiritual depth of the occasion.” Members also need to be present to witness the couple’s commitment to each other, and to show their acceptance, and encouragement, of that commitment. The relationship is then said to be under the care of the Meeting (Handbook 2011: 4.3.4).
The complexities of the written procedures pertaining to marriage and committed relationships are in stark contrast to the Quaker wedding itself, which is a celebratory practice that demonstrates a commitment to simplicity through its lack of outward elaboration in style of worship, wedding decoration, clothing and speech.[16] These ideas about simplicity are very similar to those of the Shakers who believed in good craftsmanship in their design of buildings and furniture, but decried ornamentation. The historical Shaker Millennial Laws prohibited “fancy” articles for adherents:
Fancy articles of any kind, or articles which are superfluously finished, trimmed or ornamented, are not suitable for Believers, and may not be used or purchased...
(Extracted from Millennial Laws quoted in Andrews & Andrews 1974:137)
Although simplicity has been mostly associated with the Shakers, Quakers also have a testimony to simplicity. In the past, this led to plain style in dress and speech. A Quaker mother in the seventeenth century advised her children as follows:
Be careful and take heed that you do not stain the testimony to Truth that you have received by wearing needless things and following the world’s fashions in your clothing and attire, but remember how I have bred you up (Lapsansky 2003:1)
As Lapsansky (2003:1) points out, this mother’s advice to her children would remain as an historical note if it wasn’t entered as a guideline in Quaker Faith & Practice (1995:19.41); a book which is used by current Australian Quakers.
Undeniably, one of the most important characteristics of a Quaker wedding is its simplicity. This is understandable as the value placed on simplicity has been historically one of Quakerism’s central tenets, and is expressed outwardly by the lack of ornamentation, and inwardly, through the silence of meeting for worship.
5. Quaker Practices on the Death of a Member
Quakers place emphasis on life itself rather than what happens after death. As funerals are about the departure of the body of the deceased after life has gone, Friends do not place much importance on them. There is no prescribed pattern for a Quaker funeral, but if the deceased person was a member or attender, it is likely that there will be a short meeting for worship held. This meeting could be at the meeting house, the funeral home, crematorium or graveside. Although there is no set pattern for the funeral, there is an acknowledgement of the need to show sympathy to the bereaved and thankfulness for the life of the deceased.
5.1 The Funeral
The funeral described here was held at a funeral home so its setting was secular; but it was, nonetheless, transformed temporarily into Quaker space when an officiating member stated to those assembled that this funeral was to be held in the manner of Friends. This, he explained, entailed the importance of silence. There was to be no planned service. The funeral was to be held in silence, but anyone could get up and speak, whether they were a member of the Society or not. Those present were told that they could share kind thoughts or memories of the person who had died. There were only two things that were asked of speakers: they should speak only once and there should be a period of silence between contributions.
Although the funeral had the same form as a meeting for worship, it differed because the spoken contributions were more frequent and the silent periods were much shorter. The normal convention of allowing a suitable period of silence between spoken ministry was relaxed. This was not frowned upon by the Quakers who were present. It is believed that the funeral is for the benefit and comfort of the mourners and ministry can assist in this process. Non-Quakers were encouraged to make contributions for this purpose.
Quakers who attended the funeral offered spoken ministry which recalled the deceased’s contribution to society at large, her success in the teaching profession, service as a Clerk of the meeting, and how she had extended kindness to new arrivals in Australia. It was mentioned that she was courageous, and had never lamented the fact of having to give up her home and possessions to move into the nursing home; but instead, had built a new life for herself and had helped other residents. Friends and family of the deceased also recalled various activities that the deceased had been involved in through her life, including years of service to community groups.
There was a recurring theme within the ministry that this was a life well lived and her family and friends were far richer for having known her and this was a cause for celebration. The funeral ended with silence and then members of the congregation were invited to stay for light refreshments.
5.2 The Memorial Meeting
Friends place more emphasis on the Memorial Meeting for Worship which acknowledges the life of the deceased, and in particular, as stated in the Handbook (2011:4.8.2), “the evidence it contained of God’s working in the world.” The memorial meeting is held at a convenient time which may, or may not, be soon after the death of the member and tends to be less formal than a funeral. Its purpose is two-fold: to support the mourners and to give thanks for the “grace of God in the life of the deceased” (Handbook 2011: 4.8.4). It is most likely to be held at the local meeting attended by the deceased member.
At a memorial meeting held for a long term member who had recently died, there were about thirty people present; two thirds of whom were members of the deceased’s family and friends, and the rest being members of the meeting. It was held instead of the usual Sunday meeting for worship and a member of that local meeting officiated.
Proceedings started with silence and then the officiating member explained to those present what occurs at a memorial meeting. After another short silence, he then read out a testimony to the life of the deceased which detailed the member’s early life; and in particular, how he had met his wife whilst they were both involved with the Friends’ ambulance service during the Second World War. The meeting was told how the deceased’s work had been of use to the community, and how in later life he had joined the local Quaker group and became a much valued member. It was said that his concern for the welfare of others was shown in his devotion to social causes. The meeting then proceeded in silence, interspersed with various contributions from members of the Quaker community, and family and friends of the deceased. Periods of silence were briefer than usual and more time was devoted to spoken contributions.
Out of the silence, several Quakers stood up and spoke of the deceased’s wisdom and ministry, which would be sadly missed by the group. After a further period of silence, a member of the deceased’s family thanked the Quaker community for holding the memorial meeting, adding that the family had been unaware of this part of his life, and so it was good for them to now hear about his ministry. After another period of silence, the meeting closed with everyone standing and holding hands briefly. Afterwards, people stood around chatting and having morning tea as they would at the end of an ordinary meeting for worship.
5.3 Internment of Ashes at the Quaker Cemetery
Quakers are encouraged to observe simplicity in their choice of funeral arrangements and type of headstone. In Friends’ burial grounds it is recommended that there be uniformity in size and type of headstones. This is to ensure there is no distinction made between people beyond name and date (Handbook 2011 4.8.2). Some Friends are now opting for a natural burial, which could involve a cane or wicker casket, rather than the usual elaborate wooden casket. Some feel that this is a more environmentally sound choice rather than cremation or usual burial methods. It fits well also with the community’s commitment to simplicity.
I attended the internment of ashes of a woman who had been associated with the Society of Friends, but who had died over a year earlier. It had been her wish that her ashes should be interned underneath a tree on the border of the Quaker section of the city’s historic West Terrace Cemetery, which is South Australia’s oldest cemetery. It has a number of areas which have been set aside for various community groups including Catholic, Jewish, Afghan, Islamic and Quaker sections.
The Quaker section has quite a few grave sites. Although Quaker headstones are recommended to be all the same height, this did not appear to be always the case, because some were much larger than others. Although there are quite a few burial sites, not many people have been buried in the Quaker section of the cemetery for some time. A brick memorial wall has now been constructed which has small plaques attached (all the same size) for Quakers who have died in more recent years. There is a little stone rounded bench facing the Quaker wall and a tree that has been planted for eventual shade.
A few people were seated on this bench when I arrived at the cemetery for the internment of ashes ceremony. The family had not publicized the internment and so only those within the Quaker community, and a few close members of the family, knew about it.
The Friend who was officiating at the internment explained to those present how the ceremony would proceed. After her explanation, everyone then sat in silence for a short time until it was announced that it was time to start. The officiating Friend then welcomed everyone to the meeting for worship for the internment of the ashes of the deceased. This internment was to show respect to a faithful friend and offer support to her family. The gathered group was told that the deceased’s life had been guided by Quaker testimonies, particularly those related to peace and to simplicity. This, it was said, was demonstrated by her strong support for the aims of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union throughout her life.
The gathering was told that the deceased’s spirit continued to live on in the lives of those who knew and loved her, and that the final act of compassion for her was now to place her mortal remains here in the Quaker burial ground, which was her wish. A plaque on the memorial wall now records, according to Quaker tradition, simply her name and date of birth and death.
The small group was reminded to begin in silent worship but was encouraged to feel moved to speak afterwards, as to do so was a source of comfort to family and friends. The silence seemed very powerful in this setting, being broken only by the sound of birdsong very close by, and the distant sound of traffic and sirens coming from one of Adelaide’s busiest roads.
After the period of silence, a member of the family stood up and walked around to the back of the wall, where the ashes had earlier been placed on a stand. Everyone then stood up and followed him silently in single file, then stood beside him as he placed the container of ashes into the ground which had been prepared for this purpose. No words were spoken whilst the ashes were placed in the ground. Another member of the family put a small bunch of flowers into the grave on top of the container. Everyone then returned to their seats again in silence and the meeting for worship continued for another fifteen minutes.
Out of the silence, a Quaker spoke of gratitude towards those Friends who thought of having a memorial wall in the Quaker cemetery, and how lovely it was now to sit in that place and see the names of Friends. This, it was said, inevitably led to self-reflection. Silence then fell again over the small gathered group. Another Quaker spoke of keen memories of the deceased; and then, after another period of silence, a member of the family reminded those present that the deceased was the last of the entire generation within that family.
Birdsong again interrupted the final few minutes of silence, and then the officiating Friend shook the hand of the person next to her, which signalled the conclusion of the meeting for worship. Everyone then held hands for a short time in silence.
Subdued conversation took place as people started walking away from the site.
5.4 Life Testimonies
When a member of the meeting dies, the regional meeting makes arrangements for the writing of a biographic note called a “testimony to the grace of God in the life of …” This testimony covers aspects of the deceased Friend’s life that reveal the workings of the Spirit in the world. As well as providing comfort to mourners, the testimony’s content is often inspirational. The document is prepared by one or more members who have good knowledge of the person who has died. It is carefully written and can take several months to produce. It includes a biographical component; but it is not just an historical account, as it also concentrates, according to the Handbook (2011:4.8.5), on “that of God” in the deceased person’s life and evidence of religious learning and right living.
Virtues that have been highlighted in testimonies include independence, discipline, quietness, thoughtfulness, living simply with integrity and compassion, quietly achieving, and showing kindness. Often it is mentioned that the deceased member worked in social justice, served on various Quaker committees, or volunteered at the Quaker Shop. One testimony printed in the Quaker newsletter[17] noted the service given by the deceased Friend to the Society, mentioning that she had been an excellent Clerk of Friends’ meetings and convener of committees; she was orderly, chose her words well, was concise and her writing was always neat and legible.
As another indication of the importance of these testimonies, at the annual business meeting held for Friends throughout Australia (Yearly Meeting), all formal sessions begin with several minutes of silence; and the majority of sessions then include the reading of testimonies for Australian Quakers who have died during the past year and have given service to their meeting and to Australian Quakers generally.
For Quakers, the world of the dead holds very little interest. The incorporation of the deceased into the world of the dead is not emphasized. Instead the values of the deceased, demonstrated in the way that person approached life, are reincorporated into the world of the living through the lasting legacy of the written testimony. The deceased member, through the agency of the testimony, is able to offer a final gift of ministry to the community.
6. Conclusion
Meetings for worship are regularly held on Sunday mornings, but they also frequently held for business matters; and less frequently, for memorial gatherings and the celebration of marriage. Undeniably, Quaker practice is minimalist in approach; but nevertheless, integral to adherents’ spiritual lives. Allied to its minimalist approach, is the Quaker use of silence. The core of the un-programmed meeting for worship is undeniably silent waiting, but I have demonstrated that silence is also used in so many instances, for example, in business meetings and rites of passage; or on occasions when there appears to be no need for it. This unusual Quaker reliance on silence necessarily raises the question of how Quaker practice differs from that of the Unitarians.
CHAPTER 4 UNITARIAN WORSHIP PRACTICES
1. Introduction
Unitarian services of worship are held regularly in two locations in South Australia: in the Adelaide suburb of Norwood and in the Adelaide Hills at Shady Grove. Although South Australian Unitarians do not practice Christian rites such as baptism or christening, they do hold child naming and membership ceremonies. Apart from regular services of worship, they also conduct weddings, funerals and memorial services; and when the occasion arises, a ceremony to welcome a new minister.
The ethnographic description begins though with the Sunday services as these form such a large part of the worshipping experiences of the two interconnected congregations.
2. Services of Worship
The main venue for Unitarian practices in South Australia is the Adelaide Unitarian Meeting House. It is the only venue which holds weekly Sunday services.
2.1 The Adelaide Unitarian Church
The Unitarian Meeting House [18] is located on a quiet street in a well-to-do neighbourhood in the eastern suburbs of Adelaide, close to numerous chic outdoor cafes. In front of the building is a courtyard which allows parking for a few cars. Until recently, a brick wall divided the courtyard from the footpath outside, but this has now been removed to give the impression of a more open approach to the outside community. A sign indicates that this is the “Adelaide Unitarian Meeting House” and a noticeboard displays Unitarian principles and insights to passers-by.
The cream brick building is contemporary in style with no steeple, tower or other distinguishing feature, apart from a symbol representing a chalice on the outside of the building — a symbol which marks it as Unitarian space. The building has been positioned parallel to the road and its entrance is midway along the side. It has certain simplicity in design but is, nonetheless, substantially different from the Quaker Meeting House.
The Unitarian building is called a church and a meeting house inter-changeably by the congregation and its minister. The practice of using the name “meeting house” instead of “church” developed historically in England from the period when dissenters met in each other’s homes because dissenting churches were prohibited.
Whereas the North Adelaide Quaker Meeting House was easily described in terms of its simplicity, the current Adelaide Unitarian church is much more difficult to describe. In order to understand the building and its interior eclectic style, it is necessary to know something of its history. The original Unitarian church built in Adelaide in the mid- nineteenth century was an imposing building situated in the city centre and was considered a landmark.[19] It was a bluestone church with an octagonal tower, adorned with stucco trim and ornamentation.[20] In Hague’s view (1986:11), its Gothic revival style followed what was common in Britain during the nineteenth century, reflecting the practices and notions of the British Unitarian Church at that time; embracing Unitarian ideals of scholarship, rationality and individualism, but firmly within the context of Christianity.
This original Unitarian church was in complete contrast with the simple wooden Quaker meeting house which was also built close to the city centre during the nineteenth century; however, unlike the Quaker building which is still used today, the Unitarian church was sold in 1971 and subsequently demolished. The proceeds from the sale allowed the Unitarian community to purchase land to build the current contemporary style meeting house with its garden courtyard and adjoining manse.
The interior aesthetics of the current building partially reflect its South Australian history. The impressive organ was transferred from the original church along with five stained glass windows which now form a feature of the northern wall of the church. The iconography on the stained glass reflects the Judeo-Christian heritage of Unitarianism. These windows also serve as memorials to members of four influential families who were part of the congregation in the nineteenth century.
Remarkably, some of their descendants still attend the church.
In the chancel, the altar is situated in a central position next to the southern wall. The altar itself, and the area around the altar, are not seen as endowed with special significance. However, placed on the altar is a small chalice—a potent symbol of Unitarianism. The simplicity of the plain altar is somewhat overshadowed by the presence of an imposing painting at the front of the church; a donation from the artist who was a congregant.[21] The aesthetic theme of Unitarian history reflected in this altar-piece represented the essence of Unitarianism —Truth—as an essential Unitarian attribute juxtaposed to truth as it is conventionally understood by other Christian denominations.
The historical figures represented in the art work include the first minister of the Adelaide congregation, a Spanish Unitarian martyr, two influential English Unitarian ministers, Sir Isaac Newton, Caroline Emily Clark (Australian worker for children’s welfare) and Catherine Helen Spence. These figures represented “Truth” for Unitarians, whereas the figure of a priest with supplicant parishioners represented “Truth” for other religious traditions.[22]
The eclectic nature of the church’s interior aesthetics is demonstrated further by other items on its walls. On the eastern wall of the nave, there is a tapestry made by two former members of the congregation which depicts the story of Persephone, who in Greek mythology was the daughter of Zeus and Demeter, and was both the goddess of the underworld and of the harvest. On the western wall, opposite the tapestry, is a mosaic of an angelic figure which was made by children of the church which features a chalice in the centre and on the perimeter, Sturt Peas—the official floral emblem of South Australia. The unusual combination of artistic embellishment, historical values and practicality displayed in the interior of the church, provides the setting for the Sunday service of worship.
2.1.1 Sunday Morning Service at the Unitarian Meeting House
When members arrive they take their name tags from a board placed in front of the church and pin it to their clothing before entering the large foyer, within which there are displays of leaflets, church newsletters and other reading material. There is also a library of Unitarian books in the church office which is alongside the foyer. This is accessible to members of the congregation but people tend not to go into the office unless they are involved in church administrative matters.
Each week, two appointed members act as official greeters who meet people with a smile as they enter the foyer and offer them a copy of the printed order of service and the church’s hymn book. Apart from the official greeters, the minister is often on hand to also welcome people. On this occasion, this was the case, and I was welcomed by the minister with a warm handshake when I arrived. I had been attending services for some time at this stage, and so I was well-known to the minister.[23]
It was about ten minutes prior to the start of the service and there were quite a few members of the congregation already assembled; some seated and chatting to those around them, and others still moving around the church, hurriedly making final arrangements before the proceedings began. The atmosphere inside the nave was relaxed and some people smiled at me as I entered. I found a seat on a pew near the back, which is a position I preferred because it was possible to participate in proceedings, but also, observe more of the congregation. It also allowed me to more easily have a quiet conversation with the congregant closest to me, prior to, and after, the service.
The congregation attendance ranges from forty to sixty on any given Sunday, which is about half its membership. As I looked around the room observing the other congregants, it was obvious that there were no discernible differences between this assembled group and the congregation of any mainstream Protestant church in Adelaide on a Sunday morning.
I noticed that there were more people present than usual. This morning’s service of worship was one of only a few throughout the year in which a locally organised women’s choir (most of whom are not members of the church) was set to provide choral accompaniment to the service. Members of the congregation look forward to these occasions and the congregational numbers are always higher as a result.
Whereas with the Quaker meeting for worship it was said that meeting began as soon as the first person arrived and sat down in silence, this was certainly not the case with the Unitarian service of worship; particularly on the occasions when the choir was present, as there was much pre-service chatter. However, when the church president made her way to the pulpit, the chatting in the congregation immediately lessened. Everyone was now reasonably settled and seated on the wooden pews and chairs arranged on either side of a central aisle. All seating faced towards the front of the church with its altar, pulpit, organ and grand piano.
The president read out congregational notices of church activities and items of interest to those present and then returned to her seat among the congregation. The minister was now set to start proceedings, following the printed order of service. This divided the service into four sections and was printed each week; as although the order was usually the same, different sources of inspiration were used each time. There was no need for further explanation about the service to church newcomers, as this leaflet set out clearly how the service would proceed.
The Sunday morning service of worship is now described, commencing with the initial part, which is called the “Gathering In” section, as per the order of service.
Gathering In Section
Sounding of the Bell
The minister, who had been seated in the chancel whilst the notices were being read out, now stood and rang a bell. This signified that the service proper was about to begin. The congregation was quiet and settled at this stage, allowing a short silence prior to the musical prelude.
Prelude
Usually the musical prelude was played by the church organist on the nineteenth century organ, or by one of two church pianists, on the grand piano. The music could be church music, or it could be classical, jazz or popular, and was especially chosen to suit the theme of the service. Typically, the music was played professionally and with flair, and was often highly entertaining. On this occasion, the pianist was accompanied by the visiting women’s choir. The congregation listened attentively and approvingly to the choir and then sat quietly for the next part of the service which included the lighting of the chalice.
Invocation and Lighting of the Chalice
The chalice was placed centrally on the altar in the chancel. It had a large candle which was lit by the minister as opening words were read out by a member of the congregation.[24] The words are chosen by the minister and are usually relevant to the theme of the service. On this particular occasion, they were words chosen from a well-known Unitarian Universalist source.178
Come we now out of the darkness of our unknowing And the dusk of our dreaming; Come we now from far places.
Come we now into the twilight of our awakening
And the reflection of our gathering.
Come we now all together.
We bring, unilluminated, our dark caves of doubting;
We seek, unbedazzled, the clear light of understanding. May the sparks of our joining kindle our resolve. Brighten our spirits, reflect our love, And unshadow our days.
Come we now, enter the dawning. [25]
Words of Welcome
The minister then read out the words of welcome to those present. He welcomed the congregation on behalf of the Unitarians who have worshipped with this fellowship since the establishment of the South Australian congregation in 1854. He particularly welcomed those who were present for the first time or who have returned after an absence from the church. He then acknowledged the Kaurna people who are the traditional owners of the land and their spiritual relationship with their country. This spiritual relationship was then likened to the church’s spiritual community and its commitment to its members to support them in their individual spiritual paths.
The words of welcome ended with an invitation for all present to join the congregation after the service, for refreshments and conversation. The welcome having been made, the minister asked the congregation to join in singing the first hymn, which signalled the final part of the first section of the service.
First Hymn
The congregation waited for the pianist to play at least one verse first, so that the melody could be heard, and then stood to sing the hymn.[26] On this occasion, the congregation was joined by the choir. Whilst this was happening, several young children took a large basket filled with various items of donated non-perishable food along the aisles for members of the congregation to add their contribution. This offering of food allowed the children to be involved in the service and feel part of the church community, as well as giving each member of the congregation an opportunity to contribute to the church’s collective donation to those in need.[27] Once everybody was again seated after the hymn, the second section of the service then followed. This section was intended to “grow and bind up” community and began with the children’s story.
Growing and Binding Up Community
Story for all Ages
The Story for all Ages was the part of the service set aside for the children. The number of children varied from week to week, but there were usually at least five children present.[28] For the first part of the service, the children sat with their parents amongst the congregation, usually in the first few rows. When it was time for the story, the children gathered together at the front of the church facing the congregation.
A pre-arranged story reader from among the congregation joined the children and read them a story. After the story-telling, the children were ushered out of a side door to the Sunday club room where they have supervised activities. An important part of the service then commenced which involved some members of the congregation taking turns to speak briefly from the pulpit.
Candles of Sharing
In this part of the service, the minister asked members of the congregation whether they had any joys or concerns which they wanted to share with the congregation. The stated purpose of this was to deepen and bind the relationship between members of the congregation. The minister explained that opening the worship space for this purpose could be considered a sacred act.[29]
The first person walked to the front of the church and lit a small candle from the larger chalice candle on the altar. The lighted candle was placed on the altar. The congregant then walked to the pulpit and spoke briefly on why the candle was lit.[30] When the speaker returned to the congregation, the next person then also lit a candle and spoke briefly. Sometimes, a congregant would light a candle in silence and then return to the congregation. When it appeared that no-one else wished to light a candle, the minister lit one more candle to represent those joys and concerns which were unspoken. No comment was offered on any matter aired by congregants and the lighted candles were allowed to burn until the end of the service when they were extinguished by the minister.
Prayer
The purpose of the candles of sharing was to allow the congregation to open to one another in fellowship. The stated purpose of the prayer, on the other hand, was to
“open to the greater presence outside ourselves, known by many names.” According to the minister, this prayer was uttered not to influence a God but to change individual congregants. The congregation remained silent, and many people kept their eyes closed or heads bowed, as the minister then read out the following prayer:
Spirit of love be present with all who are suffering
lift up the hearts of those who fear and inspire courage in peacemakers. Be present with leaders, ensuring progress towards peace. Let the Spirit of Love open our own hearts to compassion. Remind us of our complicity and responsibility and lead us towards generous engagement —always towards a vision of peace. Amen.[31]
Musical Interlude
On this occasion there was a choral performance by the choir instead of the usual instrumental interlude. The effect was the same, as it prepared the congregant for the next section of the service which was called “Deepening Thought and Feeling”— arguably the most important part of the service because it included the minister’s address to the congregation.
Deepening Thought And Feeling
Readings
On this occasion, the readings were from The Story of Mary[32] and Hope in the Age of Looming Authoritarianism. [33] The readings, although chosen by the minister, were read by members of the congregation.
Second Hymn
After the readings, the minister asked the congregation to join with the choir in singing the second hymn. When this was done, the congregation again settled into their seats as the minister prepared to deliver his address from the pulpit. This was considered the core of the service and the major reason many members attend.
Minister’s Address
The minister wore no gown or vestments, as he stood at the pulpit. His oratorical skills were evident in his delivery of the address, which was the centrepiece of the service. His address was on the Christmas story and he presented the argument that it was the ethical and spiritual essence of this tale which was paramount; an essence which offered hope for a better world. The congregation was reminded that Mary was a woman in need of shelter and protection, and the over-riding message of the story was that hope is born out of suffering. He stated that Unitarians can choose to work to dismantle the structures of oppression and play their own role in the birth of hope.[34] The minister ended his address with the words: “So may it be. Amen.” The address included a moral imperative which was designed to give the members of the congregation food for thought.[35] When it had been delivered, the service started to lose momentum and began to wind down. The final section of the service called “going forth in commitment” then began.
Going forth in commitment
This section began with the Offertory.
Offertory
The minister stated:
This offering is but a part of our gift to the community, in recognition of all we receive from it. May this and all our gifts be used to holy purpose, so that in giving and receiving we make contact with the sacred, and this congregation might flourish to the benefit of all.[36]
The choir sang Ave Maria as the small collection bag was passed around the congregation. Members of the congregation who preferred not to make an annual contribution to the church were encouraged to place their offering in the collection bag as it was passed around.[37]
Third Hymn
The final hymn was then sung by the congregation, accompanied by the choir. This was followed by the minister giving the benediction, which on this occasion reflected the Christmas theme of the rest of the service.
Benediction
The minister stated:
This Christmastide let us rejoice
And celebrate our human worth
Proclaiming with united voice The miracle of every birth. [38]
Extinguishing the Chalice
The minister formally ends his part in the service by extinguishing the chalice candle and the candles of sharing. The service then ends with the postlude.
Postlude
The choir sang a traditional Calypso carol with much enthusiasm. Afterwards, the congregation applauded the choir for its performance and the service was formally over.
Once the service was finished, congregants started to move around to talk to other members of the congregation. The door to the kitchen was opened and refreshments were prepared. People remained in the pews for ten minutes or so, talking to those near them. Others gathered into small groups deep in conversation. Several members of the congregation approached me and wanted to chat about how the study was progressing or to make comment about the content of the minister’s address.
This service of worship was held during the traditional Christian season of Advent.
It should be noted though that the Unitarian Church in South Australia doesn’t have a fixed liturgical calendar. This can be contrasted with the Anglican Church of Australia, for example, where principal holy days such as Ascension, Pentecost,
Trinity Sunday, All Saints’ Day, Christmas, Epiphany, the Baptism of Jesus, Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday are all observed. Nevertheless, Unitarians still keep some Christian celebrations such as Christmas and Easter Sunday.
Although these days are not necessarily considered holy days, they still form part of the church calendar. The order of service is not usually changed on these occasions but the minister’s address and readings follow a theme associated with the celebration, albeit with a Unitarian interpretation of its significance. However, there are some observances which are uniquely Unitarian and these occasions are now described. The first of these celebrations is the flower communion.
2.1.2 Flower Communion
This service is an annual event which is celebrated in Unitarian churches throughout the world. In South Australia, this service involves members of the congregation bringing a flower and placing it in a common receptacle when they arrive. At the end of the service, a basket with all the flowers is brought around to everyone in the congregation. Each congregant takes home a flower other than the one which they have brought themselves.
The service follows the usual order of service, but the minister’s address typically focuses on the theme of the flower communion and its instigator, Norbert Capek— the founder of Czech Unitarianism. Capek, who championed freedom and justice, was executed at the Dachau Concentration Camp during the Second World War.
So the service is primarily a celebration of the bravery of a Unitarian who fought for social justice and paid the ultimate price, but it also has other meanings. The minister suggested that it was also a celebration of beauty, justice and community.
The giving and receiving of flowers though symbolises more than this. The following short excerpt from the minister’s address during one such service indicates this further meaning.
Let us rejoice in our unique colours, aromas, and sounds.[39]
These different flowers symbolized that each person was a unique individual who had gathered with other unique individuals to share this uniqueness. It was, therefore, also a celebration of both individuality and the value of community. The diversity of flowers also symbolized the diversity of ideas held among members of the congregation. The act of giving and receiving flowers was symbolic of how each individual both received from, and gave, spiritual insights to others in the congregation. In addition, by stressing the importance of taking home a different flower from the one which was brought, it demonstrated that members of the congregation should be open to new ideas.
2.1.3 Water Communion/Ingathering Service
This service is held after the end of the summer holidays to welcome back those members of the congregation who were absent during the summer break and the minister, who returns from annual leave. It also heralds the resumption of the ordinary church calendar. Members are typically asked to bring a small vial of water taken from where they spent their summer holidays, and pour it into a communal bowl at a designated time during the service. The minister then stirs the water, symbolizing the bringing back of gifts from afar and offering them to the community. During one such service, there was a guided meditation in which the following words were spoken by the minister:
We gather here as a community of people who are more than categories. We gather here—each ministering to the other, meeting one another's strength, encouraging wholeness. We give thanks for this extraordinary blessing—the gathering together of separate, unique individuals as one whole, one body, our church. Here may our minds stretch, our hearts open, our spirits deepen… May all that we have received over the gift that is summer be held here, protected, watched over, nourished and encouraged to the benefit of our blessed community.[40]
Similar to the flower communion, the ingathering service stresses the value of the coming together of individuals into community.
2.1.4 AGM Sunday
The Adelaide church, like many other Unitarian churches, combines their annual general meeting with a service of worship which precedes the meeting. There is usually a large congregational turn out for this important event. The service follows the usual form but the minister’s address often focuses on the topics of democracy, freedom and discernment. Democratic process is very important to Unitarians and this was demonstrated by the minister commenting on one AGM Sunday: “The nearest thing Unitarians have to a holy day is election day.” Hand-in-hand with voting came the process of discernment; and Unitarians, the congregation was told,
“Must discern what decision leads to the promotion of ‘the good’.” [41]
2.1.5 All Heretics Day
This was a service designed to celebrate the Unitarian history of heresy, i.e., notions which were contrary to accepted mainstream ideas of Christianity. During these services, members of the congregation have taken part by reading out transcripts on heretics.[42] Members of the congregation have been encouraged repetitively on these occasions to “carry forward the gifts of Freedom, Reason and Tolerance, and our glorious tradition of heresy.”[43]
2.1.6 Mid-Winter Solstice Service
The church also held some more unusual services such as an evening celebration of mid-winter solstice.[44] The service commenced with all the members of the congregation standing in the foyer and then filing into the darkened church one at a time carrying lit candles. At the same time, a procession of singers also carrying lit candles entered the church through another door. The impressive entrance of participants into the church was designed to set the scene for the rest of the proceedings.
The pews were arranged in a “u” shape with trestles set out with plates and forks. This was in readiness for the communal meal of home cooked stew. The eating of this food, which could be described as peasant fare, was accompanied by the drinking of mulled wine. This repast was enjoyed by the congregation and there was much talking and socializing whilst consuming food and wine. When the food and wine had been ingested, the minister rang a bell to signify that socializing was over and that the formal proceedings were to follow.
The minister stood near the pulpit and was wearing a long black coat, a scarf and a large sparkling brooch. She gave no address to the congregation but read out some prepared material on welcoming “the dark” and referred to the rituals of various religious traditions, such as the Hindu Divali/Dipavali Festival of Light, Buddhist celebrations and ancient pagan rites; all of which welcomed the winter and gave thanks for food.
This mid-winter celebration was held at the Unitarian Meeting House which is the major venue for worship. The second venue for worship is the Shady Grove chapel which is situated in the Adelaide hills and is closely associated with the city church. Its congregation meets on the first Sunday of each month for a vespers service and jointly with the Adelaide congregation quarterly and on Christmas Eve.
2.2 Shady Grove Chapel
Shady Grove chapel is situated about ten minutes’ drive out of the historic Adelaide hills township of Hahndorf. The road to the chapel marks a departure from the busyness associated with Hahndorf as the road is not well sign-posted; and although most of the road is paved, it still has gravel sections. The chapel cannot be seen from the road but there is a small sign alongside a laneway, indicating its existence. The lane leading to the chapel grounds is surrounded by native plants and overhanging gums. [45] On the left, at the end of the lane, is the historic Unitarian graveyard and straight ahead a small hostel which has basic amenities. This building is used for after service refreshments and congregational shared meals. A small walking path then leads to the right, past the hostel and towards the historic chapel.
The chapel building is of simple design and seats about seventy people. It is situated in a delightful bush land setting. On the small table at the front of the inside of the chapel, there is a large candle which is lit to mark the beginning of the service. There are also candles on the old wooden organ, which is played by a member of the Adelaide congregation during services, as well as two candles on the pulpit and more on the low window sills.
On its walls there are three framed photographs of South Australian pioneer Unitarians responsible for building the school house which was subsequently converted into a place of worship. These photographs are remarkable in themselves as they are in such a prominent position in the chapel and seem to define it. A small inscription on the pulpit, states that it was donated to the church as a dedication to the granddaughter of one of its founding fathers. This inscription further exemplifies the historical family connections with the building.
2.2.1 Vesper Services
The Shady Grove chapel is much loved by Adelaide Unitarians and some congregants regularly attend services there. I attended a vesper service with a congregant from the Adelaide church who accompanied me for the trip to the Adelaide hills. Two official greeters were outside the chapel to greet us as we arrived. A musician with a stringed instrument was positioned inside the door and began to play as arrivals were taking their seats. This added to the charm of the setting. There appeared to be no mains electricity to the building and the service was held by candlelight.
There was a scent of incense in addition to the scent of the gums outside in the surrounding bush-land; the outline of which was still visible in the fading daylight through the small low windows. The chapel has no grand piano or impressive organ, but there was a small organ for musical accompaniment. An impressive flowering eucalypt floral arrangement added decoration. There was a feeling of relaxation and informality among the gathered congregation, but also a sense that this was a special, and perhaps, sacred space. This sense was heightened by the presence of the heritage-listed cemetery nearby which contained graves of many of the pioneer families.
When it appeared that no more congregants were going to arrive, the musician ceased playing and the minister stood and walked to the pulpit. He welcomed the thirty people who were now seated on the wooden pews. Those present were reminded that this chapel had been used for the purposes of worship for at least one hundred and fifty years. A member of the congregation was then asked to light the chalice candle and to read the opening words.
The service which followed was substantially the same order of service used by Adelaide Unitarians and the minister’s address was certainly at its core, but the proceedings were conducted more informally. Perhaps this was because of the more intimate setting. The minister still stood at the pulpit, but there was no chancel in the small chapel and so the pulpit was closer to the congregation. The informal nature of the gathering was further exemplified by the bushland setting and by the relaxed sharing of food after the service.
2.2.2 Joint Services
In addition to the vesper services, joint services with the Adelaide congregation are held at Shady Grove quarterly. On one occasion, when the service was conducted by the visiting president of the Unitarian General Assembly,[46] there were about forty people present. Prior to the commencement of the service, the minister of the Adelaide church was presented with a white chalice badge, which was given only to Unitarian ministers. The congregation applauded approvingly after the presentation. The minister of the Adelaide church then returned to her seat in the pew and played no further official part in the service, whilst the guest minister welcomed those present with the following words:
To a day of hope today and a day of promise, to a place of peace and a place of comfort, to a journey towards truth and justice, welcome to a community of love and courage that will help us along our way today.[47]
This joint service between the two congregations was held on Father’s Day. The visiting minister lit the chalice and told the attendees: “This chapel was somewhere to come to share, to learn, to speak, to listen and to grow together in the spirit of peace, harmony and also love.” Members of the congregation were then invited to come up to the front of the church and light a candle. The minister explained:
“This was a church which interpreted the truth in the terms of its own times, and challenges its own times and its terms of the truth: a church that inspires thoughtful living.” [48]
A member of the congregation read the children’s story with theatrical flair. One father stood up and took several flash photos of his children who were sitting with the storyteller at the front of the church. The congregation applauded at the end of the storytelling. The children were then led outside to do their supervised activities. A musical interlude followed and all the men in the congregation were given a small bar of chocolate to celebrate Father’s Day.
The wife of the visiting minister, who was also the National President of the U.K.
Unitarian Women’s League, approached the pulpit and brought greetings from the League’s central committee in the U.K. The visiting minister then returned to the pulpit to introduce the next hymn before giving a short address. The service then ended with a final hymn and the benediction. After the service, the congregation enjoyed a shared lunch and conversation. Much effort had been put into providing an appetizing array of food.[49]
There are clear differences between services held here and those held at the Adelaide Unitarian meeting house. As with the two larger Quaker meetings for worship, the most obvious difference is that the spaces in which worshipping activities are held or conducted are quite aesthetically different. The aesthetics of the building undeniably display a uniquely South Australian Unitarian historical presence, but in a different way from the Adelaide Unitarian Meeting House. The contemporary styled Adelaide building celebrates its past with its memorial stained glass windows and grand organ, and its diversity, with the eclecticism demonstrated in its artistic embellishments. All this is absent in the Shady Grove Chapel which is an historic building with furnishings that reflect its past. As such it has an intimate, less formal milieu. The chapel was not built by disaffected members of the Adelaide church but by early Unitarian settlers who lived in the hills. There are continuing family connections with the descendants of those early settlers and no sense of competitiveness with Adelaide Unitarians.
Undoubtedly, factors such as location, officiating minister, and members of the congregation, all ensure that no service is quite the same as another; however, the basic form of the service is common to all. Although there are services, such as the Winter Solstice celebration, which do not follow the usual order of service, such occasions are the exception.
Several families with young children have become regular attendees and this has changed the composition of the congregations. This shift seems to have occurred at about the same time as the commencement of the tenure of the second minister. This has resulted in younger families having more influence within the group and the children taking centre stage on occasion. This has provided an enhanced sense of community which is highly valued by congregants.
One older congregant expressed the following views which demonstrate this point:
Some people may go to the Church because the music is so good…but I also enjoy other things like the children’s story and the candles of joy and concern, I think that is a very important part in thinking you are part of a community.[50]
Undoubtedly, one of the major reasons most people attend services is to hear the minister’s address. Quaker ministry is not delivered as oratory and is heartfelt. The Unitarian minister, on the other hand, is a trained orator and a paid employee of the church. The South Australian Unitarian congregation has prided itself in having a professionally trained minister. [51] Their ministers have been articulate and academic in their approach to conducting services and in the preparation, and presentation, of their address. In addition, each minister has a different style and this is reflected in the content of their addresses, minor changes made in the order of service and types of celebrations held.
There are also marked differences in style, professionalism and content when members of the congregation take the service. This happens when the minister is unavailable. It is an occasion enjoyed by the congregants as this provides an opportunity to learn about a fellow congregant’s views on religion. Members do not always agree with what their fellow congregants say from the pulpit but it is generally understood that attendees should be able to express different views, and much appreciated when special effort is put into the content and presentation of the address.
Quakers don’t usually discuss individual ministry after meeting for worship but Unitarians often discuss aspects of the service and, in particular, the content of the address. This discussion usually takes place with the person sitting alongside them and it is usually because the address is particularly thought-provoking, well-crafted or informative. If views diverge sharply from what Unitarianism promotes, people can show their distaste. On several occasions, people have walked out of such addresses, but this is not usual.
A congregant remarked that one of the advantages of being a member of the Unitarian church is that there is no compulsion to agree with what is said in the pulpit and the speaker can be challenged in a polite manner. The address is considered a personal statement by the person presenting it and a diversity of views is encouraged because it is believed that the more views to which the members of the congregation are exposed, the more likely they will get closer to their own personal truth.
3. Rites of Passage
The minister expressed his view that rites of passage are very important in an address he gave to the Adelaide congregation:
From earliest recorded time, and across all cultures, humans have regarded the beginning of living companioned as one of the central experiences of life, right up there with the significance of birth, coming of age, and death. In the flow of life’s many days these are days which distinguish themselves from others, days when we reach significant junctions, important transitions in our lives.
Over time and across cultures, humans have rightly collected and ritualized actions and words which proclaim the importance of these
experiences…
Like a hand painting on a cave wall, such ceremonies
proclaim “We are here and what we do here is significant.”
Since people of every age and clime have marked these passages, they constitute common a human will to see our lives whole, and take our actions seriously. This broad perspective on rites of passage is the UU starting point for ceremonies like....weddings.[52]
This view can be contrasted with that expressed by an experienced member of the Adelaide Quaker community:
We don’t have any rites of passage at all. There are no rites of passage and the reason why we don’t is because it is an inward religion and God is supposed to speak to the individual so you don’t have to have outward ceremonies to do that. [53]
Unitarians welcome outsiders coming to the Unitarian Church for rites of passage such as weddings or naming ceremonies. It is attractive to outsiders because they are given the freedom of choosing their favourite readings, hymns and music as well as their own vows. A Quaker wedding is intended for members and long-term attendees; however, a Unitarian wedding is not so restricted. It is primarily a private family celebration and attendance by other members of the Unitarian community is not expected.
It is generally accepted that the couple should write their own wedding ceremony with the advice and guidance of the minister. The couple are given a lot of freedom in their choice of wording and symbolism, provided the content isn’t provocative as it is considered that the planning process is the best preparation for making a commitment to the relationship. It is expected that the couple be seriously committed to the relationship.
Historically, Unitarians were probably encouraged to marry fellow members of the congregation but there were no serious ramifications if they did not. Undoubtedly, Unitarians also had extended networks of family and friends. The Unitarian feminist network in nineteenth century Birmingham, for example, was based not only on religious and friendship ties, but also, with the kinship ties which bound many of the well-respected middle-class Unitarian families. These families often shared social, economic and political values which underpinned a practical commitment to reform. According to Plant (2000:724), Unitarians developed such networks because they were barred from many positions of power.
Weddings are sometimes held in the Unitarian Meeting House for people not involved with the congregation, these events are not publicized and are considered private ceremonies. Although rites of passage are considered important by Unitarians, there was only one opportunity for me to attend a Unitarian wedding. As with the Quaker ceremony, this marriage was between two people who were connected with the church community.
3.1 The Wedding
The bride was a member of a well-respected South Australian Unitarian family and had long-term membership of the church. Despite this, there were only three other people present who were regular members of the congregation, and one of these belonged to the bride’s family. This was quite different from the Quaker wedding which I attended. It was evident that the Unitarian wedding was not considered a congregational celebration; whereas the Quaker wedding was a celebration for its community as well as the couple’s circle of friends and family.
The doorman who greeted visitors as they arrived was a well-known member of the church. He recognized me and when his duties were complete came and sat next to me in the pews. The wedding party was already seated in the front pews in the nave and remained seated there for the whole service, only standing to make their vows. The bride and groom were both middle aged and dressed formally. Although the church was not particularly decorated for the occasion, there were two displays of flowers in the chancel, along with two glasses of wine and the symbolic chalice which were positioned on a table.
The minister sounded a gong, which indicated that the wedding service was about to begin. The pianist stopped playing and the congregation fell silent. After a short period of silence, the pianist began to play again whilst the minister lit the chalice.
The service began with words from the Song of Solomon:
For, Lo! The winter is past, the rain is over and gone: the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. [54]
The minister introduced herself, and then welcomed those present on behalf of the Unitarian Church of South Australia. The purpose of this gathering, she explained, was to acknowledge, witness and celebrate this wedding which was a public recognition of the private experience of the couple’s love. She offered the couple encouragement in contemplating their ability to allow for shifts of the imagination. This, she said, was necessary for the development of deep soulful relationships, and this celebration of marriage was to be a formalization of their commitment to a lifelong relationship. The bride and groom were congratulated by the minister on their strong sense of self and their pride in each other’s talents and achievements; as well as their commitment to working together and taking their talents out into the world and using them for the greater good of humanity.
The minister then addressed the congregation, explaining that it was fitting that the couple’s family and friends were gathered to witness and participate in this marriage, as the qualities that the couple brought to it had their foundations in the friendship and guidance of those present. The couple, she stated, would continue to draw its form from such associations, as well as from the guidance of family and friends who were not able to be gathered for the wedding. A candle was then lit for those who could not be present.
Two young children were then invited to come forward to sing The Man with the Child in His Eyes.[55] The children returned to their seats and a member of the congregation was invited to come forward and give the first Reading, The Two Pigeons,[56] after which the congregation was asked to sing Morning has Broken.[57] The minister offered advice to the couple to “let the winds of heaven dance between you” in order to allow spaces in their life together. The times of brightness and shadow experienced through life were then symbolized with the couple sipping wine—both bitter and sweet. The couple remained seated as each one sipped this wine. At this stage, a few people left their seats and walked around the church to take photos of the couple.
The minister invited the bride’s father to come forward and read a passage from the New Testament which detailed the virtues of love. The attributes of the bride and groom: kindness, good sense of humour and love of life and freedom, were then listed by the minister before she closed that part of the ceremony with the following advice:
A good relationship has a pattern like a dance...and is built on some of the same rules…. There is no place here for the possessive clutch, the clinging arm, the heavy hand, only the barest touch in passing, now arm in arm, now face to face, now back to back. It does not matter which because they know they are partners moving to the same rhythm, creating a pattern together, and being nourished by it… Lightness of touch and living in the moment are gracefully intertwined. Amen.[58]
The pianist played Fur Elise and then the minister read out the legally required declarations to be made by the bride and groom. She requested that the couple come to the front of the church whilst she explained that marriage according to Australian law was the union of one man and one woman voluntarily entered into for life to the exclusion of all others. She then asked whether anyone present had any lawful reason why the bride and groom should not be legally married; asking the bride and groom separately whether they were legally free to marry. The bride and groom were then asked to join hands and face each other and repeat the following words after the minister:
I call upon these persons here present to witness that I ...do take thee to be my lawful wedded wife/husband. You are the person I love. I want to care for you, to respect you, to honour you and I will try to do so for the rest of my life.
The minister then added the following words:
In the presence of this good company by the power of our love, because you have exchanged vows of commitment we now recognise you as married….[59]
The groom was told that he may kiss the bride and this was accompanied by loud clapping from the congregation. The minister stated that the register was now going to be signed. The pianist began to play again and the wedding guests started to talk quietly among themselves. The minister explained that the couple were going directly to the wedding reception and would not be stopping in the church or its grounds. The wedding guests were asked to wait to congratulate the couple at the reception venue and to now remain seated. She then thanked all present for sharing in the couple’s special celebration and wished the wedding guests an enjoyable
day.[60]
As soon as the wedding party left, the minister said to me, “Was that different?” Others commented that the service was different and beautiful, and the music was wonderful.
Another rite of passage which is celebrated by the community is the welcoming of new members.
3.2 Welcoming New Members
Becoming a member entails filling out a form and paying a membership fee. The minister usually talks to perspective members about Unitarianism and then the membership application is discussed at a Committee of Management meeting. A prospective member is encouraged to have a personal commitment to finding religious “truth”, to seek justice, and to foster a loving relationship with other members of the Unitarian congregation.
Membership confers voting rights at the Annual General Meeting, and lapses if the small annual membership fee is not paid. There is a mentor system in place for new members to assist them and answer any questions they might have regarding the church.
The welcoming of new members is incorporated within an ordinary service of worship several times a year. I was present during one of these services and the minister welcomed new members with the following words:
We don’t have a creed for you to pledge allegiance to, but we do agree that we must be tolerant of one another’s varying understandings of the religious life, while we work together for these aims. You have gifts, we ask you to share them with us in this quest, as we pledge to share ours with you…
The new members were then invited to come forward and stand with the minister at the front of the church facing the congregation, where they were then introduced to those assembled. The minister continued with his welcome:
With joy we welcome you as members of the congregation. We do not ask you to abandon anything in your past, or to surrender any conviction forged by your experience as a price of our fellowship. We ask only your willingness to share with us the richness of your life as we will share ours with you. Welcome to all of you, with all our hearts. [61]
The minister shook the hands of the two new members. The congregation then clapped approvingly as they were given a badge before returning to their seats in the pews.
3.3 Welcome service for new Pastor
When the incumbent minister did not renew her employment contract, this caused much soul-searching for the members of the church and its management committee. There was considerable division among the membership regarding the circumstances surrounding the minister’s decision. This disquiet continued during the process of searching for, and appointment of, a new minister. Some wellregarded stalwarts left the church in protest because they believed that the usual procedure was not followed. There was considerable relief in the congregation when a new transitional pastor was officially appointed despite earlier protest. He was well-known by the congregation as he had often held services in a lay capacity.
A welcome service was held which was led by the president of the church and attended by the congregation. The church president welcomed the congregation to a special service which she stated was an acknowledgment of the commencement of the transitional minister’s one year pastorate with the church. She read out a message which was addressed to the new minister from the President of the Australian and New Zealand Unitarian Universalist Association (ANZUUA). He used words of welcome to the pastor and purposefully reminded the Adelaide Unitarian community that they were not a uniform member congregation:
We are a liberal church of diverse individuals and families where you come together to celebrate your unity as well as your diversity. In society which has been atomised and where traditional ties are
broken down Unitarians offer a welcoming sense of unity and that is certainly one of the most valuable things that we can do as we gather in a community to support one another’s spiritual journeys…[62]
The pastor was told he must offer an unconditional welcome to all people of goodwill regardless of religious and cultural background and he was reminded that his pastorate must be shared with the congregation. The church president then asked the new pastor to come forward, as she gave him this charge:
Today as the President of the Unitarian Church of SA it is my privilege to welcome you to be our pastor in a year’s transitional ministry. Your role is to lead by example and also by enabling people to give expression to their beliefs in acts of love in the world. You are not called just to be a helper, a carer, you are called to exercise leadership in caring. You will tell the truth, you will trumpet at injustice and others will follow you. You will stride out with grace in the complex world in which we live. Do not allow yourself to be penned up by those forces who would reduce your pastorship to niceness and kindness.
The work to be done is endless and you can only do your part. This congregation also has its part to play to support you in your care of us and others…
We ask you to lead us in caring service, to hold the hand of the needy, to sit with the dying, weep with the bereaved for the spirit everywhere urges the fruits of compassion. I welcome you to our congregation as pastor.
The pastor then delivered his testimony to the congregation:
I have been appointed pastor at a time of revolution, of conflict in this church, in this community – a passage of play that would have split and finished other churches. ..
Now how can I not yet fully ordained hope to rise to that challenge
and make a difference for the good in this community? …Like bread, everyday ministry is the staff of spiritual life and is made and eaten not magically but by the sweat of one’s brow. And although we as Unitarians have no communion ritual, the bread of ministry is offered for all to partake regardless of whether you support or approve of the person offering it. That bread is offered anyway…
Ministry … is a professional relationship: another one of those complex human relationships but one which I vow will be about mutuality rather than control, about give and take rather than power… The verb ‘minister’ means to serve…[63]
The minister stated that his authority to undertake this role came not only from the church’s elected officials who have appointed him or his approval by the British Unitarian Church for training; but also, because “Unitarian tradition says that religious authority is located nowhere than the individual conscience.” By undertaking this service to the church, the newly appointed minister hoped, he said, for personal transformation. He stated: “If any religious practice isn’t in the business of transforming you, it is no religious practice at all.” The welcome ceremony then concluded with a hymn, benediction and postlude, as in the usual order of service.
Several months later, a Special General Meeting of Members was held to look at the motion put at the previous Annual General Meeting that the committee charged with finding a new minister be disbanded, and that the congregation accept the transitional minister as a settled minister. This was considered a controversial move and upset some members. However, a secret ballot was duly held and the vote for the motion proved successful. This then ended a very divisive period for the church and highlighted how central the minister is to the spiritual lives of the members of the South Australian Unitarian Church.
Another much loved “welcoming event” at the church is the Baby Naming Ceremony—the main purpose of which is to welcome the baby into the wider family of the church and to support the family in their nurturing of the spirituality of the growing child. Traditionally, this ceremony draws on the parents’ values and hopes for their child’s future, which are usually in line with those of the Unitarian Church in principle. The minister may give the parents a choice of a range of different readings or may leave it to the parents to make their own choice.
3.4 Baby Naming Ceremony
One mild Spring morning, I arrived about five minutes before the start of the service. There were about fifty people already seated, including several young families with children. The printed order of service indicated that this morning’s service was to include a naming ceremony for the baby son of members of the congregation. The liturgical form was the same as an ordinary service, with the naming ceremony forming part of the “Growing and Binding Up Community” section. It was introduced with the following words by the minister:
We are fortunate today to witness and share in a special rite of passage to bless and to name and to welcome….….into the family of love and of life – a ceremony that is both ancient and timeless.
In all parts of the earth, and from the earliest days of recorded history, parents have brought their children at an early age to a place of worship to share their joy and dedication with those closest to them.
Traditionally, the element of water has played a symbolic part in the ceremony, for all life has risen from the waters, and it is through water that life is sustained.
Traditionally this also is the time to recognise a child by name, for it is by name that each of us is acknowledged as a separate person unique in all the universe as any snowflake.
The flower we shall present to the child is also a symbol and memento of the individuality we wish to affirm.[64]
The church president then came forward and made the following statement:
The coming of a child into the family circle widens its dimensions far beyond the simple addition of a new member. It brings the miracle of a new personality struggling for its own fulfilment. Therefore it is quite natural for us to be thrilled at the sight of new birth.
However, as the years pass it is too easy for us to take our children for granted. Whatever their ages they deserve the tender love and firm guidance, which only we as parents, teachers, and friends can give.
Moreover, these children have a right to a faith in themselves, in the story of mankind, in their particular heritage, and in the vast universe-home which is theirs. It is to symbolise these possibilities and responsibilities that we have come to this ceremony.
The child’s parents looked around the congregation, and at the church entrance, nervously. Apparently, the godmother had not yet arrived. Within moments, the godmother arrived and the minister smiled in relief. The godmother did not have time to even sit down before the minister called her forward, much to the merriment of the congregation. With a flourish, the minister invited the child’s godmother to come forward. He said:
An old Jewish proverb says: “In times of trouble, go to the friend of your father, go to the friend of your mother.” From this ancient wisdom comes the idea of godparents, special people who dedicate themselves to
watching out for the welfare of other people’s children. It is a noble and loving tradition to which the godmother commits herself to today……
Do you then, (the godmother), to the best of your abilities, intend to supplement the care and love of these parents, both in the day-to-day development of the child, and especially in the event of any extraordinary need?[65]
The godmother replied: “I do.” The minister then turned to the child’s parents and sister and asked them to step forward. The minister told them of the blessings and woes of being parents and a sibling, and the important bonds formed by these relationships.
He then addressed the parents:
Do you, then…standing in the midst of your family and friends, commit yourselves to the upbringing of this child, dedicating yourselves to make his a healthy body, a reasoning mind, and a feeling and luminous spirit?
The parents replied: “We will.” The minister then held the child and gave the sibling a rose to hold. The minister then delivered the “Water Blessing”.
The baby, mother and father, and friends and relations bring with them blessings to this water. Spirit of Life that flows through all things; add your blessing to this water, and teach the baby and us its wisdom.
Teach the baby the wisdom of water, that life will have its falls…,
Teach the baby the wisdom of water, that each fall is finite, each ends in contact with earth. May the baby be ever reminded that we gathered here today are as earth for him. May his parents, friends and relations cushion his falls. For we here gathered are the ground of blessed community for him.
Teach the baby the wisdom of water that he will rise again from each fall, sometimes like mist breathed from the trees, sometimes like a geyser spouting from the earth, sometimes as imperceptibly as evaporation from the sea.
Spirit of Life and Love, may you be with the baby as he moves with us through life. Nourish him in the dry times and flow into him the simple abundances of life, loving, patience and compassion.220
The minister took the baby in his arms to a large blue bowl which contained water. He put one hand into the water, cupping some water in his hand. He then poured some of the water onto the baby’s head, wetting the baby’s head whilst saying:
“Blessed be this child.” This he did three times. He then asked the child’s sister to give him the rose and he presented it to the baby, who tried to grab it and then push it away. Undeterred, the Minister smiled as the congregation laughed, and he then said:
Baby, on behalf of those gathered here today, I give you this rose. We have taken the thorns from the rose, but we cannot, alas, take them from your life. In the journey of life that lies before you, you will find sublime beauty and stinging pain are mingled, as your parents’ love is mingled in you.
But the loving community gathered here today— your parents, relations and trusted friends, and this church—we pledge to do all we can to multiply those joys and divide those trials by our love and care of you.
This rose is but a token of the love that brought you into this world, and of the love that will sustain you through it. This rose may wither, but our dedication here will renew itself whenever you seek our fellowship.
And so baby (name is used), we welcome you among us. Would the congregation please recite the commitment on your order of service?
The congregation recited the following words:
We will delight in your accomplishments, we will share in your sorrows, and we will encourage you in every way as you grow into adulthood. And whatever may come to you, whether misfortune, affliction, or wrongdoing, we promise never to close our hearts against you.
The minister then said: “This we pledge. Amen. Allow me to present….baby.” The minister took the baby in his arms, and presented him to the congregation; stopping to allow members of the congregation to speak to, and touch, the baby. Whilst this was going on, a tape of Little Man by singer/songwriter, Tom Waits, was played.
The service then continued in its usual order. In his address to the congregation, the minister talked of the value of rites of passage.221
220 Excerpts from a Naming Ceremony and Service held at the Unitarian Church of South Australia and conducted by R MacPherson on 24/11/13
221 See page 184.
As the whole of a rite of passage like today is a sermon, the remarks will be brief. I would only add this thought: it’s a great pity that we do not mark the significant changes of our lives much anymore in the Post-Christian era, by lifting those threshold moments up to worth…
Something deep in our collective memory seems to know that ritual –a symbolic set of actions – is called for to help us cope with these changes. For these are changes that abide.
As UUs, our rituals are served a la carte, so to speak; they are what you want to make them. And so in not raising the significant changes in life to worth, not wanting to make something of a fuss (whether it involves church or not), to recognize life’s passing, we cheat ourselves of the opportunity to invest our own lives with a greater dimension, a dimension some might call spiritual or holy…..[66]
The minister then addressed the family and gave a blessing to the child to which the congregation replied: “Amen.”
3.5 Unitarian Practices on the Death of Member
The final rites of passage to be described are those surrounding the death of members.
3.5.1 Funeral Services
Not all funeral services are held in the church, but on this occasion, it was. A wellknown, long-term member had died and the church nave was packed with his relatives and friends who were seated in the pews. Members of the congregation were seated in chairs under the annexe attached to the church.
The service was conducted by the minister, with the assistance of the minister emeritus and a member of the deceased’s family. It began with the usual lighting of the chalice but the rest of the service did not follow the usual order. The motif used by the minister was that of shared grief, but tempered with a sense of happiness for the deceased’s life, which was “well lived and productive.” The deceased had been a prolific artist, producing many works of art. The minister said that it was hard to encapsulate what being a Unitarian was; but nevertheless, the deceased had managed to do so. She talked of the healing power of art, and how the deceased’s work had comforted many people and praised his love of philosophical discussions, poetry and nature.[67]
After the service, wine and refreshments were served, and this was followed by a private burial later that afternoon at the Unitarian burial ground at Shady Grove.
3.5.2 Memorial Services
A well-attended memorial service was held for a local philanthropist who was a stalwart of the church and a fifth generation Unitarian. Government ministers were among the mourners to hear the minister describe the deceased as being “born into the Unitarian Church.” The deceased had pre-organized the order of service and chosen her own hymns and readings. She had worked as a physiotherapist during the Second World War and had been decorated for her service. She had supported the church generously: financially and practically with Sunday school duties, fundraising and charity work. It was said that her loss would be keenly felt among the congregation and the minister praised her for her commitment to the institution of Unitarianism. The minister stated:
Hers was a courage rooted in an unshakeable faith—faith in her humanitarian values which constituted her personal Unitarianism, and an uncommon faith in the institution of Unitarianism…the usual vagaries of an evolving, democratic church did not matter…In a truly free church, all would unfold as it must. Her unshakeable
commitment was to principles—– unseen, intangible, but real…
That, my friends, is faith… If we would honour her memory, we as a church might emulate that faith she stood for, stood by, and stood upon, embodied by this Unitarian church and the values it has upheld. The condolence our community can offer to her family and friends today is our own unshakeable faith in it, and a commitment to carry on the work of this church she has so far advanced…[68]
3.5.3 Unmarked Graves Ritual
It was announced that a ceremony was to be held for the children of pioneer South Australian Unitarians who were buried in unmarked graves at the Shady Grove burial ground. I decided to attend even though it was a cold, rainy day and the water overflowing over the unpaved road leading to the Shady Grove Chapel grounds made the negotiation of potholes rather hazardous. It was good to reach the chapel which was being warmed with a radiator. Large candles placed on windowsills, and on the table at the front of the chapel, added a further welcome touch. The three framed photographs of the South Australian pioneer Unitarians who founded Shady Grove loomed large in the room and seemed to watch over the proceedings.
A combined service for members of the Adelaide and Shady Grove congregations was then held. Afterwards, the minister announced that there would be another short service held for the occupants of previously unmarked graves who were buried in the adjacent cemetery. She explained that many of these unmarked graves were for the infant children of nineteenth, and early twentieth century, South Australian Unitarians. She stated that there would be a short service in the chapel and then a walk with umbrellas, if needed, to the cemetery. There would be a walk past the graves to dedicate the children and babies who were not afforded a marked burial for so long. She requested that the congregation should remain in respectful silence whilst in the chapel and in the vicinity of the graves.
The minister gave members of the congregation the option of leaving the chapel if they didn’t wish to be part of this ceremony. About half the congregation left at that stage and the remainder stayed seated quietly.
The minister continued:
This is a special ceremony for the graves of our ancestors’ children who died and were put in unmarked graves… The mothers of these children are long gone but we carry the torch for them. We acknowledge these children now. ..Length of days is not what makes age honourable nor number of years a true measure of a life.
I am now going to go up to the cemetery and I will read out at various intervals the names of the children buried there and then I will say a prayer and say, “We will
remember them.”
And then, if you could repeat after me, “We will remember them” and we will walk around where all these graves are…It is a symbolic walk.
Members of the congregation then filed out of the chapel and followed the minister up the steep path to the cemetery and around the graveyard in silence. The minister stopped at various grave sites and read out the names of children and stated: “We will not forget you.” The people repeated this and then the minister read out the following words, each line of which was repeated by the congregation:
In the rising of the sun and in its going down, (children’s names) we will
remember them.
In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter...we will remember them.
In the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring…we will remember them. In the blueness of the sky and the warm of summer…we will remember them.
In the rustling of leaves and the beauty of autumn…we will remember them.
In the beginning of the year and when it ends…we will remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength…we will remember them.
When we are lost and sick of heart…we will remember them. As long as we live they too shall live for they are now part of us as we remember them.[69]
In a further memorial to deceased members of the congregation, on All Souls Day, a service of remembrance was held to remember those members of the congregation who had died during the previous twelve months. As the minister called out the names of loved members of the church who had died that year, it was clear that many members of the congregation were unable to hide their grief. That service of remembrance was in stark contrast to the “unmarked graves ritual”, where some of the children had been dead for over one hundred years and the participants did not appear to be descendants of their families. That ritual was to honour life itself— no matter how brief.
4. Conclusion
The practices of the Quaker and Unitarian communities are quite different, particularly in their respective use of sound. Quakers use silence in their practices even in instances where there appears to be no need for it. Whereas Quakers are comfortable with the sound of silence, Unitarians are much more comfortable when there is an abundant use of words, music and song. Unitarian services and rites of passage are eclectic in nature and draw on a wide range of sources. They are neither endowed with simplicity nor elaboration; but display a certain consistency in their practice, and adherence to, Unitarian notions and values. Unlike the Quakers, spiritual leadership is provided by a minister. These dissimilarities raise the question of whether Quaker and Unitarian practices can both be considered rituals.
CHAPTER 5 RITUAL THEORY AND ANALYSIS
1. Introduction
The South Australian Quaker and Unitarian communities have different, and contrasting practices. I now consider whether because of these dissimilarities, both practices can be regarded as rituals. In order to do this, I compare three different approaches to the anthropology of ritual—communicative, functionalist, and constitutive and transformative—using the insights of Roy Rappaport, Don Handelman, Bruce Kapferer and Catherine Bell. Rappaport, for example, contends that ritual is a mode of communication, whereas Bell focuses on determining a particular framework for the analysis of ritual, placing emphasis on practice and relations of power. On the other hand, Handelman argues that ritual is constitutive, and Kapferer adds that it can enable transformation of life processes.
Following a review of these approaches to ritual, there will be a synthesis of their understanding to contrasting phenomena observed within the South Australian Quaker and Unitarian communities. I aim to show that Quaker and Unitarian worshipping and other practices are not just representational but actively constitutive of value. Moreover, I will demonstrate how the ideology they have adopted is practised. This will be done with regard to the ideas espoused by Louis
Dumont on the concept of “modernity” and introverted and extraverted individualisms— notions which were first outlined in the Introduction.
2. Ritual as a Form of Communicative Action
The Unitarian service of worship has an outward form which is organised through a prepared order that uses silence only minimally. This can be seen in the following liturgy:
Sounding Bell
Prelude
Lighting of Chalice Candle
Words of Welcome
Hymn
Story For All Ages
Candles of Sharing
Prayer
Musical Interlude Readings
Hymn
Minister’s Address
Offertory
Hymn
Benediction
Extinguishing Chalice Candle
Postlude
The service is very quickly established as being Unitarian through the minister’s choice of opening words and through the presence, and lighting, of the chalice; a widely used symbol in Unitarian churches. The chalice is lit at the beginning of the service and extinguished at its ending. The most identifiable feature of the service though is the abundant use of words, whether this be the careful choice of readings and hymns, or the crafted address presented by the minister.
The non-programmed form of worship used by South Australian Quakers is very different from the Unitarian service. Quakers do not consider their practice to be a ritual; on the contrary, as Collins states, “(they) can and do understand worship as not only ‘not ritual’, but as something more like its opposite” (2005:324). This self-understanding has arisen because worship takes place in a gathering in which there is no officiating minister, no prepared sermon, hymns or music. Instead, it is characterised by silence and stillness. There is no set format for ministry or apparent outward form of liturgy. These factors, therefore, raise the question of whether Quaker worship can be considered a form of communicative action.
2.1 Rappaport’s Approach
Roy Rappaport[70] is an influential proponent of ritual as a form of communicative action. He defines ritual (1999:24) as denoting “the performance of more or less invariant sequences of formal acts and utterances not entirely encoded by the performers.” He (1999:31) then emphasises five features which he believes are universal, and indicates that these features allow ritual to be recognisable as such because they lie at the ritual’s surface rather than being hidden in symbolism.
The first feature, according to Rappaport (1999:33), is that participants follow orders established by others. New parts may be subsequently added or its elements re-arranged, but the validation of previous performance is still maintained.
The second feature is adherence to form so that ritual is repetitive, stylized and held at specified times and places. Rappaport acknowledges (1999:34) that some rituals allow spontaneity, but others are more restrictive. In marriage celebrations, for example, he notes that invariant formal aspects such as the wording of traditional wedding vows are more dominant. The variant aspects, according to Rappaport, include the minister’s sermon, which he refers to as “mere embroideries, elaborating events.”
Rappaport suggests (1999:37) that ritual’s third feature is that it can have mutable invariance. He states that participants in a ritual all differ in their performance of liturgical orders and ultimately can choose whether to take part. So that even in the most invariant of liturgical orders, according to Rappaport, there are still possibilities for variation. Notwithstanding this, Rappaport posits (1999:40-41) that ritual flaunts its invariance as participants have limited scope to act in ways contrary to the ritual’s order otherwise they would be classed as disruptive or heretical.
The fourth feature is performance and Rappaport observes (1999:39) that without this feature there is no ritual. Participants though have different roles to perform. If there is a ritual specialist, such as a priest, that person plays a different role from congregants whose participation includes responding to the liturgy with silence, singing, dancing, kneeling, listening, or other activities.
Subsequent to making the point that ritual has mutable invariance, Rappaport notes (1999:50) his final feature of ritual, i.e., conformity to form, with emphasis on propriety and precision in ritual utterances.
Following from his insistence that these five features are universal, Rappaport distinguishes between self-referential and canonical messages transmitted during ritual proceedings. The example he provides (1999:54) of a canonical message is the wording used during the Catholic Mass. Here the message presented is invariant and encoded in the liturgical orders which have been performed on numerous occasions over a period of time, thereby transcending the present.
Although the message is invariant, individual ritual participants do vary. The messages they convey are self-referential and are dependent on the present circumstances and locality, as well as being limited to what variation is allowed by the liturgical order itself. He suggests (1999:55) that the canonical messages, on the other hand, represent the continuing aspects of universal orders.
According to Rappaport (1979:111,126), to participate in a liturgical order is to conform to its authority or directives. Its performance is comparable to public acceptance of the canonical messages, and this acceptance is a self-referential message to other members. A participant may harbour doubts about notions expressed in the liturgy, or be insincere, but these factors do not affect acceptance which is signalled by conformity. In Rappaport’s view (1979:194-5), acceptance does not ensure compliance with notions expressed therein, but it does mean that the participant feels obligated to act in a particular way.
Undoubtedly, Rappaport considers ritual as important for establishing conventions of obligation. Whereas Victor Turner, on the other hand, understands performance to be challenging social conventions rather than establishing them. So Rappaport advocates a different approach to ritual from that taken by Turner, even though there is some agreement. This is a point which is also made by Grimes (2006:142).
Rappaport’s viewpoint implies that morality is thus linked to participation in liturgical orders [71] as this entails commitment and obligation on behalf of participants—an observation also made by Lambek (2001:251) in his discussion of Rappaport’s stance.
Important for Rappaport’s argument (1999:346) is that sacredness, and how it is related to liturgy, is considered in terms of “ultimate sacred postulates” which are unquestionable. Although such postulates are commonly thought to be creeds or canons, he suggests that non-creedal “truths” can actually have the same quality of unquestionableness and sacredness. Undoubtedly, his view of religion and ritual has been strongly influenced by the ideas of Durkheim. Both theorists privilege the concept of “the sacred”, although for Rappaport, there is not a dichotomy between the sacred and the profane. Nevertheless, his focus (1999:371) is on the centrality of what is thought to be sacred by adherents and he believes this is found within religious discourse and the unquestionable postulates that are articulated in ritual.
Clearly, Rappaport concentrates on the more elaborate, invariant, formal rituals which focus on liturgy and his theory does not fully encompass the diversity of ritual forms, which is also a criticism levelled by Handelman (2004b:17). [72]
Nevertheless, Rappaport’s communicative action approach is still valuable in analysing religious practices. Therefore, his proposals will now be considered in an examination of Unitarian and Quaker practices.
2.2 Unitarian practices
Unitarians have neither creed nor canon but this absence is countered by multidimensional spirituality. The chalice, for example, symbolizes for some the courage of heretics who were martyred. For others, it symbolizes freedom of religion and values such as sharing and generosity. The chalice is not itself considered sacred but its value lies in the individual’s interpretation of its multilayered symbolism, representing the canonical message of the shared stated principles; and in particular, the promotion of a free and responsible search for truth and meaning.
There is inevitable tension between the celebration of a diversity of spiritual viewpoints, expressed both from the pulpit and individually by congregants, and the commonality needed to be shared by a community of worshippers. This tension is resolved in part in the ritual process itself; for example, in the symbolism of the chalice and in the Water Communion and Flower Communion services. And also, it is resolved by the shared stated principles of Unitarianism which are reinforced and expressed in readings and addresses. It is these shared stated principles, or sacred postulates, which give the service of worship its religious content. In
Rappaport’s view (1999:278-281), where there is an absence of formal creed (as is the case with Unitarians) postulates can be implied rather than explicit; and therefore, sanctity involves the attribute of unquestionableness imputed to these precepts.
In their services of worship, Unitarians clearly follow a liturgical order which has been established by others. Inevitably, elements of this order are varied from time to time, but for the most part, in Rappaport’s terms, “the sanction of previous performance is maintained” (1999:33). The service of worship is unquestionably a performative ritual. The minister plays the principal role, conducting the service and directing its performance. The address is the centrepiece of the performance— well prepared and presented in academic style. It is always informative and frequently includes a moral imperative.
Rappaport’s comment (1999:34) that in rites of passage, the minister’s sermons are insignificant elaborations, is not valid for Unitarians. This was evident in the remarks made by the minister in his address during a memorial service, when he called for the members of the church to emulate the faith and commitment of the deceased member. It was said that her faith stood upon, and embodied, the values upheld by the Unitarian Church. It was a call for other members “to now carry on the work of this church that (has) so far been advanced.”[73]
During services, the performances of the instrumentalists are proficient and often entertaining. Various members of the congregation also play subsidiary roles as readers, storytellers, and sharers of personal joys and concerns. Congregants also play a crucial part in the worship process, sharing responsibility for upholding the proper conduct of the service by being attentive and by joining the hymn singing when required. They show approval or disapproval of what is being said by smiling, whispering, nodding, and fidgeting during the service.
Rappaport (1999:55) distinguishes between self-referential and canonical messages transmitted during ritual. Canonical messages, he states, are invariant whereas selfreferential messages are conveyed by individual participants; and as such, are considered variant. Although in mainstream churches most of the messages transmitted are canonical; the messages within a Unitarian service of worship are both self-referential and canonical—interwoven together.
In Rappaport’s terms, there can be no doubt that the service of worship is a ritual as it contains all of ritual’s features: liturgical order, regularity, performance and sacred postulates. Notwithstanding this, on what basis can the sermon itself be considered a ritual compared with other aspects of the service? Manifestly, there appears to be a different ritual weight attached to ritual activities within the Unitarian service of worship compared with the Catholic Mass, for example, which tends to place emphasis on the ritual itself and the sermon is less important and mostly relates to biblical readings relevant to the church’s liturgical calendar.
I argue, similarly to Iteanu (1990), that ritual can enable.[74] In the Unitarian context, the ritual in the service of worship enables the sermon. Whereas, it could be argued that in the Quaker meeting, silence gives salience to spoken ministry; in the Unitarian service, sound—in the form of ringing the bell, music, readings and singing—enables or empowers the sermon.
Kapferer posits (1997:179) that ritual is organized sequentially in a predictive pattern so each subsequent act in the rite is indicated by preceding acts. In a similar vein, in the Unitarian services of worship it is apparent that there are a number of ritual activities prior to the minister delivering the sermon. The sounding of the bell, for example, directs attention to the start of proceedings and alerts people to the fact that they must stop chatting and take their seats. The musical prelude then provides a pathway into the ritual, often introducing the theme which will be explored further in the readings and address. The lighting of the chalice distinguishes the service as Unitarian through its multi-layered symbolism, thereby adding solemnity and sacredness to the process. The invocation accompanying its lighting also has relevance to the theme of the service.
The singing of hymns, the reading of the children’s story and the candles of sharing are all ritual activities which allow congregational participation. This is followed by the prayer and musical interlude which allow for a period of reflection. The readings are directly related to the content of the minister’s address which they precede. All these ritual activities add weight to, and enable, the minister’s address. They also add to the efficacy of the ritual by preparing participants to receive its messages which are delivered mainly through the address itself.
Bastin, who also follows Iteanu, explains (2014:2) how the Indian priest-king relation entails a sacralisation of the secular through ritual, thereby enabling that which is commonly understood as quotidian to be given special significance. In a similar vein, the Unitarian ritual activities which precede the sermon, and the ritual milieu itself, are able to sacralise what would usually be understood as secular. A sermon which is delivered, and argued, much like a secular academic lecture is transformed by the preceding ritual activity into a piece of reasoning endowed with special significance; thereby allowing it to form part of the ritual itself.
Once the address has been delivered the ritual activities are designed to return the participants back to ordinary everyday activities, but transformed by the messages transmitted during the service. The offertory is the first step in this transformation. The benediction sends people forth with a further reminder of the theme of the service. Finally, the chalice candle is extinguished and the solemnity and sacredness of the service ends. The postlude provides a pathway out of the ritual and the congregation applauds at the end of the performance and then returns to socializing and having refreshments.
The importance placed on the address within the Unitarian liturgical order plainly indicates the role that communication plays within their practices. Undoubtedly,
Rappaport’s communicative action approach to ritual appears to prioritize Unitarians over Quakers because speech, discourse, and the transmission of messages play such an important part in Unitarian ritual. This poses the question of how suitable Rappaport’s approach is in explaining Quaker practice.
2.3 Quaker Practice
Quaker worship could be thought of as an “anti-ritual”, or a minimalist ritual, because it is based mainly on silence. This silence is, according to Quaker sociologist, Dandelion (2005:2), a liturgy itself—a silent liturgy or liturgy of silence—in which the presence of the Spirit is believed to be more readily discovered in the absence of outward liturgy. However, the meeting for worship is held at the same time and location on a regular basis, and this regularity would demonstrate for Rappaport the existence of a liturgical order established by others regardless of the fact that it may be a totally silent meeting.
The meeting for worship is also undeniably performative, with all participants playing a crucial part in the performance. Although it is un-programmed, it follows a set format of silence punctuated by the possibility of individual ministry. Silence is essential within the ritual, but equally important is spoken ministry, and there are common understandings as to the appropriate length, content and timing of ministry.
Ministry, like silence, is performative. For example, people sometimes comment afterwards that it was a “good meeting.” Performance relates to both self and other. It could refer to how easy it was to settle into the meeting, the quality of spoken ministry or the perceived depth of the communal silence. Individual performance is believed to be enhanced by spiritual practices such as meditating or reading inspirational texts and by regular Sunday attendance. This preparation is referred to as coming to meeting with heart and mind prepared. Spoken ministry is given the same value as collective silence and is meant to arise out of that silence, breaking it, but not interrupting it. According to the Handbook,[75] the ministry’s message should be from personal experience and be simple, audible and not too long. It is not considered appropriate to question the content of previous ministry or to be provocative. The content of spoken ministry is mainly self-referential, but also canonical, interwoven together.
Although anyone may give spoken ministry, there is a tension between spontaneity and the perceived fitness and timing of its presentation. There is a perception that too much ministry is not appropriate. People have mentioned that they don’t like a “popcorn” meeting, i.e., when there is not enough silence between ministry and people add to, or controvert, previous ministry. There is expectation that spoken ministry be unprepared and spontaneous, but there is also an expectation of personal discernment as to its timing and content before it is shared with the group. Participants have quite different ideas about what constitutes good ministry. One member stated that he felt that good ministry was delivered against the background of the whole Quaker movement and its literature. In his view, this provided understanding of what ministry was about and how it “fitted into the whole picture.” On the other hand, a visiting English Quaker described ministry as a sharing of revealed truth which need not be well-crafted or well delivered but must be sincere and heartfelt.[76]
It is clear that spoken ministry in the meeting for worship can be interpreted as a form of communication, transmitting both self-referential messages and canonical messages. However, Quaker silence is not so easily glossed as only communicative action, despite Rappaport’s insistence (1999:51) that meditation and similar practices are still forms of communication; albeit auto-communicative rather that communicating with others.
In Rappaport’s terms, the meeting for worship contains ritual features: liturgical order established by others, regularity, performance and shared stated principles. However, his understanding of Quaker practice would hold that its silence is symbolic of something else, i.e., he believes that a symbol is always a representation. He states (1999:67,354) that dominant symbols are representations central to liturgical orders and they tend to be simple rather than complex because their very simplicity allows for the encompassment of further possibilities and new ideas.
Certainly, silence can be a powerful symbol and researchers have been drawn to this aspect. Bauman’s research (1983), for example, concentrates on the use of speech in Quaker discourse and social interaction. He maintains that particular ways of speaking were the most distinctive and identifying features of seventeenth century Quakers. He also believes (1983:22) that ways of speaking and the use of silence have continued to be key Quaker symbols. In addition, Bell & Collins state (2014:17-18) that silence can represent the numinous and also be a symbol of group identity because it sets apart Quakers from other religious groups. Flanagan, on the other hand, points out (1985:213) that silence as it is used in the management of liturgy in the Catholic Mass is laden with ambiguity and risk. A Quaker silence, though, is not used for the management of liturgy and can be considered a liturgy in itself. As Dandelion states (2005:2), it is a silent liturgy or liturgy of silence.
Silence undoubtedly does play an important role in communication. In an article aimed at law practitioners, Krieger (2001:211-212) considers the relationship between speech and silence and concludes that “lawyering requires an awareness of the significant role that silence plays in communication.” He explains that silence can communicate an assertion of power when used to demonstrate dissent or in situations where words are inadequate to express feelings. Nevertheless, he also cautions (2001:225-228) that any discussion of the functions of silence needs to acknowledge that not all silence is communication. This undoubtedly is the case with Quaker silence.
During the Quaker meeting, silence is collective and there is a heightening of awareness which could be described in Turner’s terms as “communitas”, with the connotation that this is a homogenous group not bounded by structure (1969:126); and undoubtedly, participants experience a revitalisation through the maintenance of group silence. Presence is considered a form of ministry in itself because one individual can give verbal ministry, but it takes the co-operation of everyone to create the silence and the stillness. Stillness is a deliberate holding back of movement rather than absence, as movement happens even involuntarily. As with the silence, there is not an absence. It is part of the waiting for inspiration.
The most defining feature of Quaker worship is the dearth of outward liturgy. The lack of any outward manifestation of the Spirit is countered not by outward elaboration of liturgy but experientially within the silence itself. In his work on memorialism of national death in Israel, Handelman (2004a:166) discusses how Israel turns the absence of those killed in war into a presence in order to promote the notion of nationalistic self-sacrifice which is deemed necessary for its survival. He further suggests that there is an apparent inverse relationship between the actual presence of the buried dead and the absence of representation of their presence, and concludes that the greater the absence of presence, the more elaborate is its representation. However, in Quaker worship, any elaboration is not outward, but inward, embodied within the silence.
Clearly, Rappaport contends that ritual is a mode of communication and this approach does raise the question as to whether enough attention has been given by him to the embodied nature of ritual process—which is an observation also made by Csordas (2001:228-230). My assertion here is that although Rappaport’s approach to ritual does offer some assistance in understanding silence’s communicative role, Quaker silence within a meeting for worship cannot be reduced to this understanding alone. Rappaport’s communicative action approach to ritual is able to assist in the understanding of Unitarian ritual because of the role that communication plays within that practice; however, his approach is less convincing in the case of Quaker practice.
My point here is demonstrated by the Quaker response to a matter which caused disunity and major disagreement within its South Australian community. This disagreement centred on the question of whether certain actions were Quakerly and whether business meetings were being held in the right manner. When the issues were found to be difficult to resolve, the Clerk decided to hold an intentionally silent meeting. Leaflets were placed on the seats to notify people who arrived for meeting that no ministry was to take place. It was hoped that a silent meeting would assist in healing rifts within the community. Silence as the dominant symbol, was being used here strategically in order to promote a sense of unity and solidarity. The way Quaker practice was used to deal with this major disagreement highlights the fact that in Rappaport’s approach the functional aspects of ritual, apart from ecological functioning,[77] are not spelled out. Bell (1992:216), on the other hand, places much more emphasis on that aspect. She would argue that silent worship used in the context mentioned above is a ritualised practice used to maintain the sense of a community’s power by promoting social solidarity and a sense of unity through the recognition of this dominant symbol.
3. Ritual as a Strategic Device
3.1 Bell’s Approach
Bell’s[78] objective is to introduce a new framework for critically rethinking the concept of “ritual.” This, she believes, requires deconstructing historical definitions. Therefore, she outlines (1992:6) the development of anthropological theoretical discourse to demonstrate how the notion of “ritual” has been constructed as a focus of analysis, and the part this construction has played in organizing a broader discourse on religion, culture and society.
Bell argues (1992:20, 23) that Durkheim and the Anneé Sociologique School developed a discourse which views ritual as crucial to social integration. She points out that Durkheim (1912) asserts that religion is composed of both beliefs and rituals. In this view, beliefs are representations of the sacred and rituals are ways of acting in terms of those representations. As a result, rituals facilitate the generation and affirmation of collective beliefs and values; a view in which beliefs are primary and ritual is secondary. Bell’s main point is that theoretical discourse on ritual developed by Durkheim and the Anneé Sociologique School is predicated on an underlying opposition between thought and action.
Bell implies that in the traditional discourse on ritual, action is subordinate to thought, but she also argues that because ritual can be considered as meaningful, it can provide a re-integration of thought and action. In the same way, according to her (1992:47), discourse on ritual is seen “to afford special access to cultural understanding by integrating the subject’s (theorist’s) thought and the object’s
(participant’s) activities.” In order to introduce a new framework, Bell (1992:67) puts much more focus on ritual activity, relying substantially on Bourdieu’s theory of practice. She outlines her own theory under three headings—action and practice, the ritual body, and ritual traditions and systems—in order to introduce the concept of “ritualization” as an alternative framework for understanding ritual action.
Bell maintains (1992:81-84) that human activity (or practice) has four features: it is situational or related to a specific context, strategic and expedient, embedded in misinterpretation of actions, and has the ability to reproduce or alter a vision of power. This fourth feature she calls “redemptive hegemony.”
The term “ritualization”, according to Bell (1992:140), is concerned with the production of ritualized acts, and as such, draws attention to how rituals are distinguished or set off from other practices. In her view (1992: 74,93), rituals are intentionally designed strategies for distinguishing what is done from more everyday practices, thereby creating a distinction between the sacred and profane. Indeed, Bell (1992:90-91) maintains that when viewed as practice, ritualization involves drawing a distinction between ways of acting, i.e., between those acts being performed and those being contrasted. Fundamental to this concept, in her view, are strategies for differentiating a way of acting from other ways of acting. She states that ritualization is the production of this differentiation. And furthermore, she declares that ritualization is a way of acting that establishes a privileged contrast, differentiating itself as more important or powerful.
Undoubtedly, in Bell’s view (1992:92-93), ritual is always defined by difference and the degree of difference is a matter of strategy. This leads her to posit that characteristics such as formality, stability and repetition are not qualities that define an act as ritual so much as they are strategies for producing ritualized acts. She maintains (1992:98) that the ritualized body has a sense of ritual and this sense has an implied diversity of schemes which can produce situations that the ritualized body can have mastery over. This sense of ritual is not, according to Bell (1992:116), knowledge of its explicit rules so much as a cultivated disposition.
Accordingly, she defines “ritual mastery” as the ability to do the following:
take and remake schemes from the shared culture that can strategically nuance, privilege, or transform… deploy them in the formulation of a privileged ritual
experience, which in turn impresses them in a new form upon agents able to deploy them in a variety of circumstances beyond…the rite itself (1992:116).
Bell contends (1992:141) that ritualization is embodied in the sense that it gives participants ritual mastery involving incorporation of schemes. This, in her view, enables participants to perceive and experience reality in terms of a redemptive hegemonic order.
Engaging further with the topic of when, and why, strategies of ritualization appear to be appropriate, Bell analyses theories that present ritual as a form of social control and then presents an alternative way of looking at the social functions of ritual. In particular, she considers (1992:181) how the strategies embodied through ritualization relate to the larger question of power relations within society. In her view (1992:169-170), ritual is a strategic device in power relations, ordering and reproducing power relations through embodiment using bodily movement and sound. It is this strategy, she maintains, which allows participants to acquire practical knowledge. She contends that ritualization is not a strategy for controlling ritual participants but a “particular dynamic of social empowerment” and views ritual practices as producing and negotiating power relations.
Bell lauds Foucault for his notion that power is socially embedded and embodied, and uses his ideas to demonstrate how she believes that ritualization produces power relations defined by characteristics which she describes (1992:196-197) as acceptance and resistance, negotiated appropriation and redemptive reinterpretation of the hegemonic order. She is critical of a definitional approach to ritual, but nevertheless, insists that ritual (as a way of acting) has a set of universal characteristics: focus on the body, strategies of differentiation, ritual mastery and the negotiation of power (1992:70).
Ritual mastery, according to Bell (1992:219), is essential for maintaining microrelations of power rather than transmitting shared beliefs, concepts or ideology. Crucially, her main point (1992:221) is that practical knowledge which is gained by ritual participants does not entail a set of beliefs or body postures but an understanding of how to act to maintain relations of power. Moreover, this empowerment may be retained by participants when they return to their everyday lives. Her view of ritual as a strategic device in power relations is now considered in relation to Quaker practice.
3.2 Quaker Practice
Bell’s view of rituals distinguishing, or setting themselves off, from other practices is a useful way of explaining an un-programmed Quaker meeting for worship, because it is undoubtedly a ritualised practice which sets itself off, and differentiates itself, from other practices by its use of silence. In Bell’s terms, silence is able to “trigger the perception that these practices are distinct and the associations they engender are special” (1992:220).
As there are no priests or pastors in un-programmed meetings, all participants are deemed ritual specialists. Nevertheless, some participants do have more authority unofficially because of their perceived knowledge of Quaker procedure, valued ministry or level of “ritual mastery.” Ritual mastery for Quakers involves knowledge of how things should be done and said, rather than knowledge of theology. Notwithstanding this, where all participants are deemed ritual specialists, as is the case in Quaker practice, it is difficult to totally agree with Bell’s contention (1992:214) that non-specialist ritual participants are differentiated from ritual specialists and this differentiation is displayed in, and produced through, ritual.
In his ethnographic research among English Quakers, Collins (2005:323-336) points out that the experienced Quaker knows “the rules of the game”—such as ways of sitting and standing during worship and the timing of ministry. Here he is relying on Bourdieu’s notion of the “habitus.”[79] Such dispositions can also be observed when South Australian participants in meeting for worship give spoken ministry. The speaker stands up, rising slowly and deliberately from the chair and stands still with head slightly bowed. Ministry is not delivered as oratory but with a certain humbleness. This habitus, along with the knowledge of how to maintain the silence and timing of ministry, is learned through attending meeting for worship and observing other more experienced participants.
Although there is no particularly correct way to sit or stand, maintaining silence and stillness of body is important. This requires repeated self-discipline and control over bodily movement. Experienced Quakers are very tolerant with newcomers as people realise that it takes time to “learn the ropes.” Nevertheless, attendance at meetings for worship when you are a newcomer can be difficult and tiresome, as can be seen in the following explanation of a participant:
My first meeting for worship was in total silence. I found that troubling and anxiety provoking… I found silence disturbing for a while…After the first few months I didn’t become bored and restless and having to discipline myself to remain there…[80]
Through stillness and the use of sound and silence, Quaker ritual participants demonstrate the practical knowledge they have acquired through ritualization; but for Bell (1992:221), the purpose of this is the production of ritualized agents who understand how to act in ways that maintain and qualify “the complex microrelations of power” rather than the transmission of shared concepts. When contentious issues within the Quaker community were difficult to resolve, ritual silence was certainly employed to promote a sense of unity and solidarity through the perceived passivity of its participants, as Bell (1992:216) would argue. However, more importantly, it was an opportunity for each individual worshipper to un-interruptedly access an “inner teacher”, usually silenced by the busyness of day to day life. Therefore, I contend that silent worship is not primarily used for enabling the construction of a power relationship.
Bell’s functional approach to ritual also suggests that ritualization promotes social solidarity through recognition of dominant symbols. In Unitarian practice, for example, the dominant symbol is not silence; it is the lighted chalice.
3.3 Unitarian Practice
The chalice is lit at the beginning of a service for worship and extinguished at its end. The stated purpose of the candles of sharing during the service is to deepen and bind the relationship between members of the congregation, which the minister considers to be akin to a sacred act. During a service, small candles are lit from the main candle by members of the congregation and the minister. The main candle represents the chalice, and when the smaller candles are placed around it, this symbolises the bond between those present.
Certainly, ritual does perform many functions, one of which is bringing people together. On the other hand, ritual can also promote the opposite of social solidarity and actually pull people apart. This was demonstrated by congregational differences regarding content of children’s stories and sermons, and disagreement surrounding the appointment of the minister.
Bell’s contention (1992:214) that non-specialist ritual participants are differentiated from ritual specialists and this differentiation is displayed in, and produced through, ritual is relevant to Unitarian practice. The Unitarian minister is a ritual specialist and as such is differentiated from members of the congregation who are ritual participants. As a ritual specialist, the minister is held in high regard by the congregation and its committee of management for his academic training and knowledge. The power relationship between the minister, the committee of management and the congregation though is far from uncomplicated. In his welcome service, the newly appointed minister stated:
Ministry … is a professional relationship: another one of those complex human relationships but one which I vow will be about mutuality rather than control, about give and take rather than power… The verb ‘minister’ means to serve…[81]
The minister’s role is not only to conduct services of worship and rites of passage, but to lead by example. This puts the minister into a powerful position, but there are limiting factors to this power relationship. The minister is an employee of the church who is appointed by elected church officials. The employer-employee relationship brings attendant considerations such as negotiating appropriate remuneration and leave entitlements, and providing a safe working environment. As an employee, the minister has obligations to his employer. On the other hand, trained ministers are difficult to replace in Australia and this puts the minister in an advantageous position as an employee.
If ritual mastery, in Bell’s terms, is knowledge of how things should be done rather than knowledge of theology, the minister’s knowledge of how to compose and deliver an address to the congregation, and how to conduct a service, are all part of this mastery. The minister has an advantage having learnt the rules of the game not only from attending services, but also, from the academic training that has been undertaken. However, long-term members of the church also have an advantage because they have seen ministers “come and go” over the period of their involvement of the church.
Bell’s concept of “ritualization” provides useful insights into Unitarian and Quaker practices, and the role of ritual specialists and ritual mastery in the process. In
Quaker practice, in particular, the concept accentuates the ritual’s embodied nature.
Undoubtedly, rituals do also bring people together, or tear them apart; but neither Unitarian nor Quaker practice can be reduced to this. There is more to their practices than that. Ritual cannot be reduced to its functions. Just as their practices cannot be reduced to being communicative only; neither can they be reduced to micro-relations of power.
Quaker, William Penn, wrote in 1699: "True silence…is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.”[82] It is difficult to gloss Penn’s understanding in terms of communicative action or micro-relations of power.
Bell’s ritualization framework involves concentration on relations of power and does not give enough consideration to participants’ reflections on ritual, which is a point also made by Oosten (1993:107). Nor does it engage sufficiently with the notion that ritual orientates participants toward the possibilities of “being” and “becoming”.
Quakerism and Unitarianism are religions of “becoming” in two senses. Firstly, membership is not attained through birth or marriage but from personal convincement. Some older Quakers are birthright Quakers, but it is said that they must still find “the Truth” for themselves, regardless of birthright membership. Secondly, “the Truth” is sought through a process of continuous revelation which may be discovered from diverse sources: religious and secular. As this process is continuous, members of both communities are always in a state of becoming and this raises the question as to whether Quaker and Unitarian practices should be examined as dynamic processes.
4. Ritual as a Dynamic Process
It is clear that neither Rappaport’s nor Bell’s theories are able to capture all that is going on in ritual process. Silence, for example, seems to be used for quite a few different purposes in Quaker practice and sometimes for no apparent reason at all. Quaker practice, in particular, suggests that ritual theory should be looked at in another way which highlights its transformative possibilities. This is a perspective favoured by Don Handelman and Bruce Kapferer.
4.1 Handelman’s Approach
Handelman (1990, 2004b) claims that ritual should be examined as a phenomenon in itself rather than assuming that it is representative of its surrounding sociocultural milieu. This understanding leads him to describe public events, including rituals, as fitting into two categories—the model and the mirror. His particular interest is with the internal ordering, or organisation, of these events. He regards (1998:3) the event-that-mirrors as having an internal ordering that is planned to represent or reflect the world as it is experienced by participants. This can be compared with the event-that-models, which he notes (1990:27) has an internal ordering that is devised to transform the lived-in world.
The event-that-models, in Handelman’s view (1990:27, 29) has certain characteristics. It both simplifies and retains connectivity with the phenomena of the lived in world so that it can be thought of as a microcosm of its milieu. At the same time, it tends to include some aspects of the lived in world whilst excluding others. Nevertheless, the model retains some autonomy from its surrounds because it functions within its own system of rules.
Moreover, Handelman suggests (1998:13) that some rituals have a recursiveness; a property which he explains as being similar to a “moebius strip.”[83] Whereas the event-that-models is a simplified version of the lived in world, Handelman’s (1998:14) moebius model appears to be more expansive because it reaches towards horizons of potentiality and demonstrates an “on-going condition of becoming.” Rituals which have such potential, according to Handelman (2004b:12) are more complex in their organisation. At the same time, he notes that qualities of selforganisation and interior complexity of ritual tend to go hand in hand.
In addition, if there is a greater capacity within ritual to interiorize the distinction between itself and its surroundings, then it is also more able to act on that milieu through the dynamics of its process. Handelman (2004b:4) consequently points out that ritual “may have constituting (and self-constituting) features—structural, processual, transformational.” This is a view which is also held by Kapferer.
4.2 Kapferer’s Approach
Similarly to Handelman, Kapferer insists that rituals are not just communicative acts; and furthermore, they should be examined for themselves rather than as representations of something else.[84] Although he discusses ritual in many of his publications, in The Feast of the Sorcerer: Practices of Consciousness and Power (1997)[85] Kapferer addresses the characteristics of sorcery practice. He does this in order to investigate issues central to the anthropological understanding of how humans form their worlds and, in particular, the human proclivity for “embodied passionate extension towards others” (1997:2). [86]
In Kapferer’s analysis, he gives (1997:24) the sorcery practices themselves authority in his exploration of the dynamic conditions of human existence. In this viewpoint, the Suniyama is a rite of “reconstitutive power” (1997:96). It transforms the victim of sorcery into someone who has not only the power of self re-creation, but also, someone who has the power to reform social and political relations. Kapferer notes (1997:108,115) how the sorcery victim remains silent and composed during the performance; a calmness which demonstrates that the ritual has reconstituted the victim as someone who is able to control and withstand the passion of sorcery.
Kapferer’s views on ritual can be interpreted as an extension of Turner’s ideas on process and liminality,[87] but instead of emphasising Turner’s ideas on process and the liminal, he uses the concepts of the “dynamic” and the “virtual”. Kapferer retains Turner’s insistence that ritual has creative and generative dimensions by positing that the concept of “virtuality” can illuminate ritual’s ability to enable transformation of life processes. These concepts are based on the ideas of Langer (1969)[88] and Deleuze and Guattari (1994).
In Kapferer’s understanding (2008:18-19), the virtual can be described as being inbetween reality (that which has already occurred) and actuality (the diversity of what will become). He stresses that virtuality[89] in this usage and understanding is not a representation of reality; it is reality itself. This reality though is different from, but no less real than, the ordinary realities of life. It is a self-contained, imaginal and dynamic space which allows the potentialities of human experience to take shape because it removes participants from everyday constraints.
Kapferer explains in what sense he believes that the Suniyama can be termed a
“virtuality.”
It is an organization of activities that are integral to the routine activities of the lived-in life world but not subject to the indeterminacies of its processes (1997:179).
Indeterminacies arise from political, economic, historic and other events that impact everyday lives. Virtuality, on the other hand, has a discernible form that is repeatable, thereby presenting opportunity for the adjustment of the reality of actuality. Importantly, Kapferer stresses (1997:179,181) that the Suniyama is ultimately oriented to “generating the capacity of victims to generate in actuality and not in virtuality.” For example, the repeated recitation of the Buddha’s virtues by the victim are embodied and produced through right ethical and moral practice which enables the re-establishment of social relations and activities. Observers of the rite are invited into the victim’s home and offered food, and in the process of giving, according to Kapferer (1997:201), “the person of the victim is progressively recreated.”
Much of what Kapferer argues is dependent on his interpretation of Deleuze’s argument concerning the nature of difference.[90] This interpretation insists that the dynamics of the rite repeats, but there is always difference in the repetition over space and time because of historical and social circumstances. Bastin usefully adds to this interpretation of the dynamics of the rite when he describes “the virtual” as
“the space and structure of becoming and it can be marked by repetition, not as the return of the real, but as its actualisation as something different” (2013:29-30).
Unquestionably, Kapferer views ritual and religious practices as raising critical questions about sociocultural process. Undoubtedly, the concept of “virtuality”[91] which he successfully applies in his analysis of the Suniyama has the potential for wider application, and this raises the question of whether his ideas can provide insights into the practices of South Australian Quakers and Unitarians.
4.3 Quaker Practice
All meetings for worship have periods of silence. Some meetings have extended periods of silence, and occasionally, the meeting is held in total silence; all factors which seems to challenge the idea that Quaker worship is dynamic. In their everyday lives, Quakers do not maintain silence or sit still for long periods of time, although a short period of private meditation may be valued. Conversation and physical activity are usually enthusiastically embraced, so the meeting for worship does not model or represent quotidian reality for Quakers themselves. Although it does not represent everyday reality; it is nonetheless, a reality in itself for its participants.
The reality of everyday experiences for the Adelaide Quaker community is that their lives are not ordinary. Unexpected events occur. Life’s circumstances are often chaotic and can change direction radically and suddenly. There are joys but also disappointments and stress, and within an ageing community there is sickness and disability. Kapferer calls this the reality of actuality (2008:19). Quaker worship, on the other hand, forces the tempo of life to slow down and suspend some indeterminacies of every day realities in order that some of the dynamics of reality formation can be entered into, and then readjusted. In contrast with events in people’s everyday lives, the meeting for worship’s repetitive format of silence, stillness and intermittent ministry—always beginning and ending in silence—is a predictive pattern. This predictive pattern is able to suspend the reality of actuality by slowing down the pace of life, thus providing a virtual reality through the media of silence and stillness.
The meeting provides a safe, supportive environment which allows meditation, reflection and self-reflexivity to take place without subjecting those activities to some of the indeterminacies of everyday life. In Kapferer’s (2008:18, 2006:676) terms, ritual as a virtual reality can be considered as scaffolding which is erected at a particular location and time within the flow of ordinary life, interrupting and slowing down that flow.
The meeting has a predictive pattern which organises activities such as correct practice—including the timing of ministry, positioning of the body during meeting, and the right ordering of Quaker business meetings. This attention to detail can be puzzling to newcomers, but as Kapferer (1997:177) found in the activities of the
Suniyama rite, it is possible that participants believe that a meeting’s meaning and power is contingent upon such correctness, attention to detail and technique.
The un-programmed tradition has retained a similarity in form since the mid seventeenth century. There have been changes during this time, but the perception among adherents is that the form of the ritual, and its media of stillness, silence and ministry, have had continuity over time. What has changed over the past three hundred and fifty years is the understanding of that ritual. Early Quakers believed that inward stillness and silence were necessary because there was to be a new relationship between God and humanity —an inward Second Coming of Christ which unfolded in their time. Contemporary Quakers undeniably have a much different understanding of cosmology, and many do not profess to be Christian and find early Quaker ideas unhelpful. It is commonly held by present-day adherents that early Quakers used Christ-centric terminology because they lacked the vocabulary of subsequent generations; therefore, earlier historical realities are irrelevant to current practice.
Nevertheless, the purported lack of change in the meeting’s form over time, despite the irrelevance of historical realities to present understandings, may partly explain why it is still considered relevant for adherents. There has seemingly been a strong desire to maintain its historic form, if not the meaning behind the form. Following from this point, I contend that cosmological notions can change without the potential for self-transformation being affected because transformation occurs within the internal dynamics of the ritual itself; which is a point also made by Kapferer (2008:47, 2006:672).
Although the un-programmed meeting’s form has remained relatively unchanged over time, that form is nonetheless dynamic, and it is in that dynamic that adherents have found the potential for self-formation so effective. The repetitive format of the meeting for worship is necessary for what Kapferer termed “the dynamic play from which the constructions of reality take form” (1997:180). The act of sitting still in silence surrounded by others, all of whom are intent on doing the same, has its own dynamic. Clearly, the silent waiting in a Quaker meeting for worship is not to achieve union with the divine but to receive spiritual guidance.
The meeting for worship provides the milieu for adherents to receive the guidance necessary for ethical self-formation; however, for that to occur there must be openness to receiving that guidance. Being open to the Spirit can be risky as known ways of being could be challenged; therefore, according to Spinks (2007:21), participants hold the space for each other to be open to the Spirit. Every day “clutter” blocks receipt of spiritual guidance but Quaker worship provides a space, away from the chaos of everyday life, in which people can work on themselves to rid themselves of clutter. Clutter is internal—in the form of the distractions of the mind; and also, external—in the form of distractions of the world. This process of removing distractions involves ongoing work on the self throughout worship, but is most evident when people are trying to settle into the silence at the beginning of worship. Removing these distractions allows the body to rest in silence and stillness.[92]
A participant offered the following explanation of silence and stillness, from his own experience:
There is a distinction between silence and stillness. I was anchored one night not far off the beach and there was a lapping of water on the sand and there was the lapping of the water on the ship’s side and a raucous performance from all the seabirds who roost on the island. I was woken about midnight and there was no moon, the whole dome of heaven was black and all the stars were out because there is no pollution. ….It was actually very noisy, there was a lot of noise but I was struck by the stillness of the whole event. There was this brilliant canopy of stars against the blackness of space. ….So what I am drawing is kind of a parable of noisy silence….There was that stillness.[93]
What the participant was trying to convey was a stillness of mind which leads to an inner peace and simplicity and an openness to the leadings of the Spirit. [94] This is difficult to do within the reality of actuality, but within the virtual space and structure of the meeting for worship, it is more possible; thereby revealing the potentiality for “becoming”.
I have demonstrated that although it is characterised by silence and stillness, the Quaker ritual is nevertheless a dynamic process. In addition to the leadings of the Spirit, the timing and content of ministry is always unknown in advance by participants, and although ministry is ideally spontaneous and Spirit-led, it has strong moral imperatives. Ministry will be listened to respectfully by others in silence, but the listeners are also discerning whether what is said has a message for them. The dynamics of reality formation are entered into when previously held ideas are challenged during the process of discernment and this can impact on the reality of everyday lives.[95] Participants can engage with such processes which are less able to be tackled within the reality of actuality, allowing the dynamics of self formation to be entered into.
Spoken ministry is given the same value as collective silence and is meant to arise out of that silence, breaking it but not interrupting it. It should be from personal experience and be simple, audible and not too long. It is also not considered appropriate to question the content of previous ministry, to be provocative or to minister more than once.252 Anyone may give spoken ministry but there is a tension between spontaneity and the fitness, timing, length and content of its presentation. In addition, participants use discernment to test their own moral positions. The ritual dynamic is, therefore, experiential and facilitated by the tension between the moral imperatives of ministry and the need for silence.253
There is not only a dynamic between the ministry and silence, there is tension within the silence itself; so that experiencing the silence may be described variously by participants as being alive, intense, active, creative or profound. Participation in the silence is essential to the ritual. Although ministry is welcomed, it is well understood that it takes the co-operation of everyone in the meeting to create a collective silence.254 The explanations offered by participants indicate that there is not just a tension between the silence and ministry but within the silence itself, and this allows experience to be shaped and formed. Participants have said that there is a transference of vibes or heightening of spiritual awareness which can occur during this process. When this is felt by most, if not all, of those present, it is called a “gathered meeting”—a more intense experience which is highly regarded.
252 Handbook (2011:4.4.0, 4.6.0).
253 Participants explain the dilemmas faced in deciding whether to minister during the meeting for worship:
Sometimes I get perturbed physiologically while in Meeting, particularly if I have ministered and so on… when I have the promptings to minister in a Meeting that’s like an earthquake that is not controllable. It is like I can’t not say it, whatever it is that I have got to say. .. I am sure that the prompting comes from somewhere else (Interview Notes).
I sometimes wonder whether someone has applied some form of test before they stand up and speak. I know, myself, if I feel or get some urge to say something, I usually sit on it so long that I don’t get up because I go over and over it in my head, “Is this from me or is it from some other place. Is it just what I want to say or is it something else?” So I don’t minister often, perhaps once a year if I was lucky or once every two years. (Interview Notes)
254 One participant shared his thoughts on his experience of collective silence:
Collective silence is very different from individual silence and in a way that is a bit like modern jazz. Someone can be just extemporizing in jazz on their own but it is very different if they are with a group of musicians and they are all doing that. The improvisation becomes very different because they are bouncing off each other and that’s a bit like Quaker silence; I think—a collective silence (Field Notes).
Notably, this participant is not referring to the spontaneity of ministry but “bouncing off each other” in the silence.
In examining the Quaker meeting as a virtual space, it is possible to express how the dynamic process is facilitated, not only by the tension between silence and ministry and in the communal silence itself, but also by the aesthetics of the ritual. The Adelaide Quaker Meeting House is known for its simplicity or plain style of architecture. The walls are painted a bluish-grey and unadorned, and furnishings are utilitarian. In a similar vein, the form of a meeting for worship is very simple and although congregants do not wear Quaker grey, they do tend to dress simply. There is an underlying asceticism in the ritual process, and in ritual space, which is based on the notion that indulgence or embellishment distracts from concentration on an inner awareness which can nourish the conscience. Distraction can clutter the mind, thereby blocking receipt of guidance from the Spirit. There is similarity here with Kapferer’s finding (2005:133) that practices centring on the key objects of Buddhist worship used the colour of white so that the senses were quietened, thereby facilitating concentration of the mind and its transcendence.
In Handelman’s terms (2004b:10), the Quaker meeting has interior complexity and self-integrity.[96] The concept of “virtuality” enables the complexity within the simplicity of a Quaker meeting to be uncovered, including insights into the selfforming and re-forming processes inherent in Quaker worship. However, Unitarian practices are arguably very different from Quaker practices and this poses the question of whether the concept of “virtuality” is also able to give insight into Unitarian practices; a question which is now explored.
4.4 Unitarian Practice
My research indicates that the liturgical form of the Unitarian service of worship, although very different from the Quaker experience, is still able to suspend the reality of actuality by changing the pace of life and providing a virtual reality—not through the media of silence— but by its absence. The Unitarian virtual reality is characterised by music, singing, readings, prayer, stories and sermons. In contrast with the chaotic conditions in people’s everyday lives, the service provides a safe, supportive and ordered environment which is conducive to self-formation and reformation.
Whereas the Quaker meeting provides a substantial amount of time for personal reflection and reflexivity, this is not the case with the service of worship. Instead, the service creates a stimulating space so that its participants are able to feel a release from the pressures of life. This allows them to engage in a search for meaning by listening, learning and critically assessing what is said in the pulpit. The stillness of mind which is valued by Quakers is replaced by stimulation of the intellect in the Unitarian setting. A service of worship plainly does not model or represent quotidian reality as such; nonetheless, it is a reality in itself.
The Unitarian service of worship as it was experienced by Unitarians in nineteenth century Adelaide was a traditional form of worship based on the Book of Common Prayer used by Pre-Tractarian Anglican Churches (Hilliard 2005:3). However, the perception among current adherents is that the repetitive format of the service with its media of music, hymns, readings, storytelling and ministry have had continuity over time. What has changed more over time, and continues to change, are the cosmological notions which form part of its content. I suggest that despite the change in cosmological notions, the potential for self-transformation remains because of the internal dynamics of the service of worship.
Although the form of the service is Protestant in style, it is characterized by a degree of eclecticism; encouraging a diversity of ideas and opinions. Notions are taken from many different sources: religious, philosophical, sociological, science, nature and personal experience. These sources provide a never-ending supply of ideas for the individual to draw upon in pursuit of spiritual wholeness. These notions are then exposed to the individual authority of congregants who valorise reason and rationality as a guidepost in critical evaluation.
As Kapferer points out (2008:43), the hybridity of borrowed rituals can be a vital part of their potency. The embrace of a diversity of religious and other ideas both within the service of worship, and in the different spiritual orientations of fellow congregants, creates the milieu for potential self-formation to be effective. As
Grigg states (2004:26), Unitarian embrace of multiple spiritual perspectives is “a motor of participation and self-transcendence.” Undoubtedly though, if multiple spiritual perspectives are the motor; then rationality provides the brake. Congregants put a high value on the power of reason as the following statement from a church member demonstrates:
If you have got faith it has got to be either something you can prove, either scientifically or by reason, or it has got to be something that makes total sense, or reasonably total sense….I cannot have a faith that is contrary to reason.256
The importance of the minister within the ritual process cannot be under-estimated. The minister organises and directs the service. Although the address is considered a personal statement and there is no compulsion to agree with the views expressed from the pulpit, the minister is unquestionably influential and plays a pivotal role in the dynamics of self formation. During the fieldwork period, the service was consistently characterised by professionally delivered oratory; and according to one elderly congregant, of equal importance is the evaluation of that address. She said:
I never sat under a minister who I didn’t criticize. I think it is an important part of Unitarianism to make up your own mind about what you are hearing or learning….Criticism doesn’t mean you disagree – you evaluate.257
Previously held ideas are challenged during the process of assessment of the address and this can impact on the reality of congregants’ everyday lives. Participants can engage with such processes which are less able to be tackled within the reality of actuality but are encouraged within the milieu of the service of worship, allowing the dynamics of self formation to be entered into. The dynamic process is facilitated, not only by this tension between individual members and ministry, but also by the aesthetics of the ritual space. The eclectic nature of the
Adelaide Unitarian Church’s interior aesthetics is demonstrated in the iconography of its artwork and its stained glass windows.
There is not the same sense of plainness inherent in the Quaker ritual space which is designed to quieten the senses and create an inner simplicity. The Unitarian
256 Extracted from interview notes.
257 Extracted from interview notes.
meeting house is more designed to engage the mind and the senses. The plaining aesthetic which is essential to Quaker ideas on morality is demonstrably different to the eclectic aestheticism promoted by the Unitarian church milieu, inherent in both the internal dynamics of the Unitarian service of worship and the complexity of Unitarian spirituality.
Unitarians and Quakers place great importance on the freedom to choose their own spiritual paths. This freedom is seen as a prerequisite for living an ethical life. Quaker worship, for example, has a strong moral imperative. Its purpose is not salvation but the creation of a better world in the here and now. George Fox, for instance, charged his followers to “be patterns, be examples…that your carriage and life may preach among all sorts of people, and to them” (Nickalls 1952:263). Contemporary Quakers may not be so zealous in their approach, but there is strong belief that Quakerism is a way of life guided by a commitment to its testimonies of peace, simplicity, truth and integrity, community, and equality. Undoubtedly, this requires a commitment to an ethical life.
Through their practices, Quakers and Unitarians are encouraged to pursue continuous personal spiritual transformation and to strive for a better world. This pursuit is suggestive of Lyotard’s (1979) understanding of modernity as “a cultural condition characterized by constant change in the pursuit of progress.” Regardless of whether this is the case, a quest for personal and societal transformation is at the heart of the two communities’ contemporary embrace of spirituality. Members of the South Australian Quaker and Unitarian communities aspire to the personal goal of continuous spiritual progress but, nevertheless, they are also part of a modern western secular society which has, as suggested by Bouma, religiously structured interaction and involvement with political reform in order to shape society according to religious principles.[97]
Modern Australian society has from its inception, according to Kapferer and Morris (2003:81), been a modernist creation. This assertion refers to the creation of a
settler society born out of European colonisation.
To unpack what is meant by the statement that Australia is a modern western secular society, the following is a declaration of what are commonly held to be contemporary Australian values, as detailed by the Australian Government’s Department of Immigration and Border Control in the information it provides to prospective visa holders.
5.1 Australian values statement
Australian society values respect for the freedom and dignity of the individual, freedom of religion, commitment to the rule of law, Parliamentary democracy, equality of men and women and a spirit of egalitarianism that embraces mutual respect, tolerance, fair play and compassion for those in need and pursuit of the
public good...Australian society values equality of opportunity for individuals, regardless of their race, religion or ethnic background. [98]
[1] Australian Advices & Queries 11, as described on the Quakers Australia Website http://www.quakers.org.au.
[2] See Chapter One for Quaker historical background.
[3] See Appendix A Figure 2.
[4] Excerpt from The Register Adelaide Sat 24 February 1925, National Library of Australia, Trove, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/page/4550641?zoomLevel=1. (Accessed 5/3/13).
[5] Extracted from Interview Notes.
[6] Young children are not expected to sit through a whole meeting but sometimes sit next to their parents for fifteen to twenty minutes. When there are a number of children regularly attending, they all leave the meeting after about twenty minutes under the care of a member who supervises activities for them whilst the rest of the meeting continues.
[7] Fieldwork notes. The disaffection was not caused by a doctrinal dispute. See Page 81 for further details.
[8] South Australian Quaker Website, http://sa.quakers.org.au/, (Accessed 9/2/14).
[9] Henceforth referred to as the “Handbook.”
[10] Michael Sheeran (a Jesuit priest whose research concentrated on the practice of communal discernment) notes that in the seventeenth century, local meetings held irregular business meetings to give assistance to impoverished members or to ensure discipline was meted out to “disorderly walkers” amongst its membership. As persecution increased, more regular business meetings were held to give support to those affected and as the movement expanded, it became even more necessary to arrange regular regional meetings (1983: 6-10).
[11] George Fox’s followers in the seventeenth century were not called converts, instead they were considered as “being convinced of the truth” (Vipont Brown 1921:13, 15). Convincement for early Quakers was dramatic, involving death and
[12] Margaret Fell was the wife of George Fox.
[13] An unpublished historical novel (Stevenson 2010) which details the plight of early Quaker settlers in the colony has been written by a South Australian Quaker. The book is intended as a tribute to those who were disowned, or pressured to resign, their membership of the Society of Friends because they did not abide by the Society’s rules.
Disownment meant exclusion from the decision-making processes although attendance at an ordinary meeting for worship was still allowed and, as pointed out by Stevenson (2010:57), an application for membership could be made again after a period of time had elapsed.
[14] See Figure 1.2
[15] Handbook (2011:4.3.5). This was particularly relevant prior to changes in The Marriage Act regarding same sex couples.
[16] A Quaker bride in 1838 was described as wearing “a pale gray gown, a cap and a white shawl, with a large veil thrown over her head” (Monger 2004: 225). Although the style of dress described is very different from contemporary standards, the lack of elaboration is common to both eras.
[17] Quaker Newsletter Walking Cheerfully (February 2009:6).
[18] See Appendix B Figure 2
[19] See Appendix B, Figure 1.
[20] SA Life – Adelaide’s Lost Churches Website http://www.salife7.com.au/adelaide/places/historical/adelaide-s-lostchurches. (Accessed 10/3/14).
[21] See Appendix B, Figure 3.
[22] More recently, in an attempt to make the Unitarian Church more appealing to newer members, the painting was removed from its central position and placed on a side wall in the nave. In its place, a screen for audio-visual presentations was attached to the front wall of the chancel above the altar table. The screen is intended for use during services and for community groups who rent the space for non-church activities.
[23] There were two professional ministers whilst I was attending church activities, and this particular occasion was during the tenure of the second minister.
[24] A different member of the congregation does this each week. 178 Words written by A. Foerster.
[25] Excerpt from Service conducted by R MacPherson on 8/12/13.
[26] The hymns chosen were usually those within the Unitarian Hymn Book, Hymns for Living, a copy of which was handed to congregants when they first arrived. Hymns that are well-known by the congregation are sung enthusiastically and it was obvious that the majority of members enjoyed singing. One participant explained the relevance of hymns for her as follows:
I enjoy the words of the hymns and singing those words fulfils a need for spirituality in me which perhaps is not particularly met, or not at such a level, in other parts of the Service. (Fieldwork Notes)
[27] The food which was collected was later given to a local charity.
[28] A few younger families joined the congregation when a new minister was appointed and this increased the number of children attending.
[29] Typically, three or four people respond to this invitation.
[30] Usually, it was in response to joys such as the birth of a grandchild, a member of the family recovering from illness or perhaps an academic achievement. On the other hand, it could be because of concerns about sickness or death of friends or relatives, and sometimes it involved matters of social justice.
[31] Excerpt from Service conducted by R MacPherson on 8/12/13. Prayer attributed to the words of the Rev. Eric Cherry.
[32] Reading sourced from the Passionist Fathers, a Roman Catholic religious community.
[33] Reading sourced from Henry Giroux, American and Canadian scholar known for work on critical pedagogy.
[34] Excerpt from service conducted by R MacPherson on 8/12/13, when he gave an address “Full of Grace: Reimagining Mary”.
[35] Interview Notes, November 2008. One congregant explained that the minister’s address allowed him to “react mentally and positively to various aspects of it and integrate that into what I am.”
[36] Excerpt from Service conducted by R MacPherson on 8/12/13.
[37] The Offertory was an addition to this part of the service. Previously, there was a bowl positioned in the foyer of the Church in which congregants could place any contributions. There was now much more focus on the receipt of funds for the church, a change of attitude which was due to several factors; including changes in membership, committee of management, church officers and the appointment of a new minister. This apparent focus on receipt of funds could be confronting to some members of the congregation, particularly those who were not financially secure.
[38] Excerpt from Service conducted by R MacPherson on 8/12/13.
[39] Excerpt from Rev Jo Lane’s Address Flower Communion Service 18/11/07.
[40] Extract from Ingathering Service conducted by Rev Jo Lane on 1/2/09.
[41] Extract from AGM Sunday Service address by Minister R MacPherson, 30/10/11.
[42] Unitarians such as John Biddle, a pioneer in British Unitarianism; Dr Channing, a Unitarian theologian from USA;
Thomas Fyshe Palmer, a Unitarian minister and political reformer who was transported to the penal colony of New South Wales; Martha Turner, who was minister of the Melbourne Unitarian Church in the nineteenth century; and contemporary
“heretic”, Tim Berners-Lee (inventor of the world wide web) have all been mentioned as “heretics”.
[43] Fieldwork notes.
[44] Winter Solstice service conducted by Rev Jo Lane 21/6/09.This service was held only once even though it appeared to have been thoroughly enjoyed by participants. This was due to a combination of factors including a change of minister, changes in the worship committee, and the loss of pivotal members of the congregation.
[45] Members of the church are encouraged to be involved in a bush care initiative which maintains the native plants and removes any non-native species, particularly in the cemetery section.
[46] This is the governing body of the Unitarian Church in the U.K.
[47] Excerpts from Father’s Day Service held 6/9/09 and conducted by the Rev Bob Wightman and his wife, Mary.
[48] Fieldwork notes.
[49] Older members of the Adelaide congregation reminisce about get-togethers at Shady Grove attended in their childhood and youth. They remember these occasions with fondness and retell how young congregants would play tennis in the grounds after the service.
[50] Extracted from fieldwork notes.
[51] Often ministers have undertaken theological education at Colleges situated in Manchester or Oxford, as no training has been available in Australia.
[52] Excerpts from an Address to the Adelaide Unitarian Church 14/10/12 by Pastor Rob MacPherson
[53] Extracted from fieldwork notes.
[54] Song of Solomon, Chapter Two, Verses 11-12. Excerpt from Wedding Ceremony held at Unitarian Church by Rev. J. Lane on 18/12/10.
[55] Popular song written by Kate Bush.
[56] Reading by Charles Aznavour based on Les Deux Pigeons, a 17th century fable by Jean de La Fontaine.
[57] Popular song by Cat Stevens from the album Teaser and the Firecat, 1971— a song which is in the Unitarian Hymn Book.
[58] Excerpt from Wedding Ceremony held at Unitarian Church by Rev. J. Lane on 18/12/10.
[59] Excerpts from Wedding Ceremony held at Unitarian Church by Rev. J. Lane on 18/12/10.
[60] Excerpt from Wedding Ceremony held at Unitarian Church by Rev. J. Lane on 18/12/10.
[61] Excerpt from ‘Welcome to new members’ from a Service at the Unitarian Church of South Australia conducted by R MacPherson on 16/12/12.
[62] Words spoken and delivered by church president at the ‘Welcome Service for the New Pastor’ held at the Unitarian Church of South Australia on 16/10/11.
[63] Extracted from Words Spoken by Pastor Rob Macpherson at his “Welcome Service for the New Pastor” held at the Unitarian Church of South Australia on 16/10/11.
[64] Excerpts from a Naming Ceremony and Service held at the Unitarian Church of South Australia and conducted by R MacPherson on 24/11/13
[65] Excerpts from a Naming Ceremony and Service held at the Unitarian Church of South Australia and conducted by R MacPherson on 24/11/13
[66] Excerpts from an Address ‘Rites of passage: What’s in a Naming Ceremony?’ on 24/11/13 and conducted and written by R MacPherson.
[67] Extracts from a funeral service held for a church member at the Unitarian Church of South Australia by the Rev J lane on 1/4/08.
[68] Extract from a Memorial Service for a Church Member held in the Adelaide Unitarian Church by Minister R MacPherson in March 2014, and reprinted in the April 2014 Adelaide Unitarian Newsletter.
[69] Extracted from a Service conducted by Rev Jo Lane at Shady Grove Unitarian Church on 6/9/10 for children buried in unmarked graves at Shady Grove Cemetery.
[70] Rappaport’s ethnography, Pigs for the Ancestors: Ritual in the Ecology of a New Guinea People, printed in 1968, was considered ground-breaking for its ideas on ritual regulation of human ecology. In 1979, he delved further into ritual and ecosystems in Ecology, Meaning, and Religion as he focused on the role ritual played in Tsembaga social life, regulating relationships with their environment. He later conducted further research into ritual, religion and the sacred, and this led to his most important contribution to the anthropological treatment of ritual, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity which was released in 1999.
[71] Rappaport’s (1979:192) use of the term “liturgical orders” in an earlier publication covers a wide area, including not only postulates and cosmological notions, but also, the organisation, form and regularity of rituals; in addition to rules for social action expressed in the postulates.
[72] Handelman further suggests that because different rituals have diverse internal complexity and self-organizational qualities, this can blur the distinction between what is considered ritual and non-ritual, thus making a universal definition of ritual, such as the one promoted by Rappaport, undesirable (2004b:17).
[73] See Note 219. Extract from a Memorial Service held by Unitarian Church. Minister R MacPherson.
[74] Iteanu found that ritual enabled exchange in Orokaiva society. Ritual was able to do this by establishing the distinction between subjects and objects of exchange so that pork could be circulated in ceremonies of exchange, thereby founding the relations on which their world was composed (1990:49).
[75] Handbook of Quaker Practice and Procedure in Australia (6th Ed), 2011, 4.4.0 & 4.6.0)
[76] Extracted from Interview Notes.
[77] See Note 222.
[78] American religious studies scholar, Catherine Bell, has two well-known publications on the subject of ritual. The first publication Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (1992) is arguably her most important book which she followed up with Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions (1997) which provides a comprehensive history of ritual theory prior to examining “multiple dimensions of the phenomenon of ritual” including genres of ritual actions, ritual-like characteristics and the underlying structure of ritual life (1997: ix).
[79] Collins noted elsewhere how bodily techniques and dispositions which are evident in the Quaker meeting for worship remain with the participant after the ritual has ended. In particular, the Quaker aesthetic which he calls ‘the plain’; the embodiment of which invokes what he describes as ‘a non-conformist attitude’ (Coleman & Collins (2000:317-318).
[80] Extracted from Interview Notes.
[81] See Note 83.
[82] William Penn quoted in Quaker Faith & Practice, published 2005 by British Yearly Meeting, pp.2.13.
[83] A “moebius strip” is a two-dimensional surface with only one side. Merriam-Webster defines it as: a one-sided surface that is constructed from a rectangle by holding one end fixed, rotating the opposite end through 180 degrees, and joining it to the first end. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/M%C3%B6bi. Accessed 1/10/17.
The symbol for “infinity” is one example.
[84] Methodologically, Kapferer is committed to situational analysis and the extended-case method— developed and embraced by the Manchester School. With this approach, practices are not used as a way of explaining abstract theoretical ideas. Instead, ethnography forms the basis for analytical and theoretical construction.
[85] Although this is a self-contained ethnography, it builds on arguments that the author developed in his earlier work, A Celebration of Demons (1983), in which he explored the aesthetics of exorcism.
[86] Kapferer argues convincingly that within the process of sorcery rites, myth becomes a reality. According to Kapferer
(1997:63,82), sorcery myths which tell of the origin, destruction and restoration of humanity and the world order, and convey the inevitability of suffering and human failure, provide the framework for the activities of the anti-sorcery ritual known as the Suniyama.
[87] Kapferer was undoubtedly influenced by the work of Victor Turner whose early studies of the Ndembu of Zambia, and later work, were all definitive in increasing anthropological understanding of ritual process. In particular, Turner utilized Van Gennep’s (1960) insights into the liminal period of rites of passage to advance knowledge on the transformational aspect of ritual, including its effect on status and identity. Most importantly, Turner considered that the liminal period offered time and space for withdrawal from ordinary life to allow examination of society’s most important values (1969:167).
[88] Kapferer is influenced by the work of Langer (1969) on the symbolic and dynamic properties of aesthetic forms and has applied some of her ideas in his exploration of ritual dynamics. In particular, he argues through the ideas of Turner and Langer that rituals are oriented towards producing effects.
[89] This view of “virtuality” does not correspond to the popular usage of the term in cyber technology.
[90] Difference and Repetition (1994).
[91] Note that Handelman (1998:17) believes that his notion of “the event-that-models” is not substantially different from Kapferer’s notion of “virtuality”, and certainly, some of the characteristics, such as ritual’s autonomy from its surrounding milieu and its ability to slow down the pace of everyday life, appear to be common to both. Furthermore, Handelman (1998:18) suggests that virtuality is also characterised by internal recursivity.
[92] Resting in silence is separate and distinct from the Charismatic notion of “resting in the Spirit” noted by Csordas (1994:247), who refers to a “sacred swoon” where participants are overwhelmed by divine power and lose control. The Quaker notion, on the other hand, requires control over mind and body.
[93] Extracted from Interview Notes.
[94] Interiority was examined in Handelman’s edited volume on ritual, when Nagy examined the phenomenon of medieval religious weeping, which indicated God’s internal presence. The individual had an internal transformation which included the removal of sin and purification of the soul. By directly communicating with God and circumventing intermediaries, individuals could self-transform (Nagy, P. 2004:p.119-137).
In the same volume, Lindquist discusses the neo-shamanic theory of soul loss and retrieval in which it is believed that the self splits during trauma and becomes incomplete. The shaman searches for the lost part of the patient’s self and persuades it to return and then explains the process of retrieval to the patient who acquires new memories of the trauma. Lindquist understands this process as “rituals of the mind” which unfold within the individual (2004:157-173).
[95] A participant made the following observation: Sometimes ministry really does strike a chord or challenge me. It is almost as if a message can come out of the silence. I think at its best, a silent meeting or spoken ministry out of a really intense silence can be powerful stuff (Interview Notes).
[96] Handelman (2004:10) states that social phenomena have self-integrity if they have the interior capacity to sustain themselves.
[97] See Chapter 2.
[98] https://www.border.gov.au/Trav/Life/Aust/living-in-australia-values-statement.Australian Government, department of Immigration and Border Protection, accessed 15 June 2016. Notably, the secular values which are set out for prospective visa holders by the Australian government bear a remarkable similarity those principles which are espoused by the Unitarian Church of South Australia.
