Sitting with several people in a designated place for an hour or so will not produce a meeting for worship, but in Friends’ experience, gathering together, waiting quietly, and listening for that “still small voice” is an essential part our life together in the Light. Friends find the center of their life together in the meeting for worship.In worship we have our neighbors to right and left, before and behind, yet the Eternal Presence is over all and beneath all. Worship does not consist in achieving a mental state of concentrated isolation from one’s fellows. But in the depth of common worship it is as if we found our separate lives were all one life, within whom we live and move and have our being. -Thomas Kelly, 1938 [6]
Although Friends worship any time the Spirit moves them to, they set aside specific times and places to gather for worship as a community.
Meeting for worship begins the moment someone—anyone—begins to “center down.” Gradually the silence enfolds all present in communion with the Spirit and each other. In the silence, we journey into that inward stillness where even our thoughts are gone, and we wait. Some Friends, responding to the movement of the Spirit, may be led to speak out of the silence. The meeting ends when someone, usually preselected, determines that the meeting has ended and greets his or her neighbors by shaking hands. In our busy times, this generally happens about one hour after the start of the meeting for worship, although those who are sensitive to the movement of the Spirit do more than simply check the clock when bringing the meeting to its official end.
In the stillness of the meeting, the Spirit brings us messages. Sometimes these messages are for us alone; sometimes they are meant to be spoken. A spoken message may be meant for the community. It may be intended to reach the heart of a single person. It may be the seed for further ministry, or it may stand alone.
People who give vocal ministry seldom know the precise purpose of their message—they only know they must speak.
