As of this Sunday (12th June), we will be meeting at the Headway Centre, Culverden Park, Tunbridge Wells, TN4 9QT.
Meeting will start at 10:30 as usual.
There is some parking, but not as much as there was at the Pagoda, our previous meeting place - so if you're coming by car, please be aware in advance that it might be trickier and more time-consuming to find a space!
For more information about the Stepping Stones project - why we're not meeting in our Meeting House, and when we hope to be back there - have a look at the Stepping Stones page. For more information about how to find the Headway Centre have a look at the Meeting For Worship page.
We're really pleased to be supporting Headway, who are a brilliant charity, and look forward to meeting in our new (albeit temporary) home! We'd also like to thank the YMCA, who have been so generous in letting us use the Pagoda for all this time, and who continue to help us with storage.
Monday, 6 June 2016
Friday, 3 June 2016
Our Stories: Madelyn
Looking back over my spiritual journey so far, it looks like quite a kaleidoscope.
My first faith school was a Carmelite Convent, run by Italian nuns, in Tripoli Lebanon. My parents were living in the Iraqi desert, with my engineer father working for Iraq Petroleum, so I had to board at the age of 8. There I learnt to write beautifully, to embroider well, and to start learning French - sadly I also came away with a gigantic guilt burden which stayed with me for many years.
The second faith school was a CMS school in Surrey, where I was blissfully happy. Anglican missionaries were our heroes and heroines, and we were taught that it was our duty to serve. We had an excellent music education, and many happy hours were spent in the lovely Victorian chapel, with its high vaulted ceiling echoing to our anthems. A favourite time was Compline, on winter evenings, with just one hymn, a homily and quiet time.
Summer holidays were spent in Nigeria, where my father was now working. Our friends there were, almost without exception, Methodist medical missionaries who worked in the leper colonies - villages out in the bush, where leprosy sufferers who were exiled from their own villages were treated with the most up-to-date medicines available at that time. Our friends had no possessions, and lived their faith in simplicity. The highlight of the week was the church service in the adobe-type church building. This was a time of joy, with loud praise-singing, sometimes accompanied by rattles and drums.
On the Sundays when we did not go the colony, we would go to the local church which we all shared - one week Anglican, one week Roman Catholic, one week Methodist, one week Presbyterian and so on…so I had plenty of variety there.
Time nursing at St.Thomas’ Hospital was if anything back to Anglicanism, but my days were so full of work, with split duties the norm, that I cannot remember much about that time from a spiritual point of view, except for carol singing around the wards wearing our dark blue cloaks lined with pillar-box red, and our goffered high lace caps. I did attend Holy Trinity, Brompton for Bible classes.
After marrying at Holy Trinity Church, Brompton (where the ALPHA courses originated), and while we had our three boys, we attended the local Anglican church in Surrey, where they were all baptised.
This continued after our move to Kent. But it was a this point that I became unsettled with my adherence to the Anglican church. It began to seem as if the wranglings going on in the Church were not conducted in a loving way. Everything in our services seemed too repetitive and formulaic. Sermons did not inspire. There was too much busyness and not enough thinking and quiet. I did not feel in communion with my neighbours at the altar rail.
I started to look for another place to continue my journey, and discovered the Quaker Meeting at Sevenoaks. So many people say they just felt ‘at home’ in Quaker meeting, that it sounds like a truism. But there you are…I did feel instantly that I should have been there all my life.
That was over 18 years ago, and the perfect story would assume that I joined Quakers then, and here I am now.
In fact it took another good many years to extricate myself from my Anglican background, attending MfW at Sevenoaks, then Tunbridge Wells as well as local church services. Slowly but surely the deep corporate peace achieved in many Quaker meetings took hold of me, and I would have gone on attending MfW as an attender for ever…until I developed cancer.
That does make you sit up and take audit. In my case one of the questions I asked myself was “ Why am I not a fully committed member ? ” This led to me asking for guidance, and an Elder took me in hand, until I felt able to ask to be admitted as a full member.
That was just four years ago, and I am grateful to be surrounded by friends and Friends. Each offering mutual support at a time when our meeting is in a period of quiet.
I look forward to the time when we can live adventurously again, and share with others from our surrounding communities the wonderful gift of corporate silent worship, allied to loving care for one another.
My first faith school was a Carmelite Convent, run by Italian nuns, in Tripoli Lebanon. My parents were living in the Iraqi desert, with my engineer father working for Iraq Petroleum, so I had to board at the age of 8. There I learnt to write beautifully, to embroider well, and to start learning French - sadly I also came away with a gigantic guilt burden which stayed with me for many years.
The second faith school was a CMS school in Surrey, where I was blissfully happy. Anglican missionaries were our heroes and heroines, and we were taught that it was our duty to serve. We had an excellent music education, and many happy hours were spent in the lovely Victorian chapel, with its high vaulted ceiling echoing to our anthems. A favourite time was Compline, on winter evenings, with just one hymn, a homily and quiet time.
Summer holidays were spent in Nigeria, where my father was now working. Our friends there were, almost without exception, Methodist medical missionaries who worked in the leper colonies - villages out in the bush, where leprosy sufferers who were exiled from their own villages were treated with the most up-to-date medicines available at that time. Our friends had no possessions, and lived their faith in simplicity. The highlight of the week was the church service in the adobe-type church building. This was a time of joy, with loud praise-singing, sometimes accompanied by rattles and drums.
On the Sundays when we did not go the colony, we would go to the local church which we all shared - one week Anglican, one week Roman Catholic, one week Methodist, one week Presbyterian and so on…so I had plenty of variety there.
Time nursing at St.Thomas’ Hospital was if anything back to Anglicanism, but my days were so full of work, with split duties the norm, that I cannot remember much about that time from a spiritual point of view, except for carol singing around the wards wearing our dark blue cloaks lined with pillar-box red, and our goffered high lace caps. I did attend Holy Trinity, Brompton for Bible classes.
After marrying at Holy Trinity Church, Brompton (where the ALPHA courses originated), and while we had our three boys, we attended the local Anglican church in Surrey, where they were all baptised.
This continued after our move to Kent. But it was a this point that I became unsettled with my adherence to the Anglican church. It began to seem as if the wranglings going on in the Church were not conducted in a loving way. Everything in our services seemed too repetitive and formulaic. Sermons did not inspire. There was too much busyness and not enough thinking and quiet. I did not feel in communion with my neighbours at the altar rail.
I started to look for another place to continue my journey, and discovered the Quaker Meeting at Sevenoaks. So many people say they just felt ‘at home’ in Quaker meeting, that it sounds like a truism. But there you are…I did feel instantly that I should have been there all my life.
That was over 18 years ago, and the perfect story would assume that I joined Quakers then, and here I am now.
In fact it took another good many years to extricate myself from my Anglican background, attending MfW at Sevenoaks, then Tunbridge Wells as well as local church services. Slowly but surely the deep corporate peace achieved in many Quaker meetings took hold of me, and I would have gone on attending MfW as an attender for ever…until I developed cancer.
That does make you sit up and take audit. In my case one of the questions I asked myself was “ Why am I not a fully committed member ? ” This led to me asking for guidance, and an Elder took me in hand, until I felt able to ask to be admitted as a full member.
That was just four years ago, and I am grateful to be surrounded by friends and Friends. Each offering mutual support at a time when our meeting is in a period of quiet.
I look forward to the time when we can live adventurously again, and share with others from our surrounding communities the wonderful gift of corporate silent worship, allied to loving care for one another.
Friday, 15 April 2016
Our Stories: Mike
How I came to, and back to, Quaker Meeting.
I wasn't 'brought up religious' although I was sent to Sunday school, mostly to get me out from under my parents' feet on a Sunday afternoon I think. In my teens I started attending Crusaders with a friend instead and then chose to attend a very active Baptist church in Bristol, and was baptised. My first job after university was with the British Antarctic Survey. Away from the social environment of the church, in the relative isolation of a beautiful, natural, frozen wilderness there was time for silent contemplation.
When I returned to the UK I found the routine and kerfuffle of organised religion no longer sat well with me. I also began to acknowledge that I was gay and at that time more than now most churches took the view as Monty Python put it: God hates poofs. A Methodist uncle had mentioned that he held Quakers in high regard and then I stumbled on the Friends Meeting House in Tunbridge Wells, where I had moved to work. I turned up one Sunday and was made most welcome. I joined a study group and was rather surprised when no one seemed to care at all when I said I was gay.
I moved into London for a while, met my husband, and joined Friends House Meeting, and then to Edinburgh where we both attended Meeting. When we moved back to Kent he found he didn't get on so well at Tunbridge Wells meeting. I was also finding that my understanding of God was changing and for some reason I felt a bit of a fraud turning up to a meeting of a religious society. So for a long time I was a name on the members list without often going to meeting.
Aged fifty I stumbled across Thai massage whilst passing through Thailand and decided to study it. The massage school also gave some instruction on meditation and encouraged morning and evening meditation sessions. I found these a great help and returned to a sense of awe for the welling of love which arises in us when we give it the opportunity. On returning to the UK I started attending Meeting at Tunbridge Wells again. It turns out that Quakers don't care about how I conceive of God any more than they do about my being gay.
What keeps me at Meeting is the unspoken contract we have to sit with each other and to support each other as we discover what some would call the Holy Spirit in ourselves. To allow that love to surface and find practical outworking.
I wasn't 'brought up religious' although I was sent to Sunday school, mostly to get me out from under my parents' feet on a Sunday afternoon I think. In my teens I started attending Crusaders with a friend instead and then chose to attend a very active Baptist church in Bristol, and was baptised. My first job after university was with the British Antarctic Survey. Away from the social environment of the church, in the relative isolation of a beautiful, natural, frozen wilderness there was time for silent contemplation.
When I returned to the UK I found the routine and kerfuffle of organised religion no longer sat well with me. I also began to acknowledge that I was gay and at that time more than now most churches took the view as Monty Python put it: God hates poofs. A Methodist uncle had mentioned that he held Quakers in high regard and then I stumbled on the Friends Meeting House in Tunbridge Wells, where I had moved to work. I turned up one Sunday and was made most welcome. I joined a study group and was rather surprised when no one seemed to care at all when I said I was gay.
I moved into London for a while, met my husband, and joined Friends House Meeting, and then to Edinburgh where we both attended Meeting. When we moved back to Kent he found he didn't get on so well at Tunbridge Wells meeting. I was also finding that my understanding of God was changing and for some reason I felt a bit of a fraud turning up to a meeting of a religious society. So for a long time I was a name on the members list without often going to meeting.
Aged fifty I stumbled across Thai massage whilst passing through Thailand and decided to study it. The massage school also gave some instruction on meditation and encouraged morning and evening meditation sessions. I found these a great help and returned to a sense of awe for the welling of love which arises in us when we give it the opportunity. On returning to the UK I started attending Meeting at Tunbridge Wells again. It turns out that Quakers don't care about how I conceive of God any more than they do about my being gay.
What keeps me at Meeting is the unspoken contract we have to sit with each other and to support each other as we discover what some would call the Holy Spirit in ourselves. To allow that love to surface and find practical outworking.
Friday, 1 April 2016
Our Stories: Noel
Disillusionment with the Anglican Church probably started around the time the poetic King James Bible was abandoned and replaced with a modernised version in the vernacular. Readings from the Bible, which I had been brought up with, had lost that sense of awe. The Creed was rewritten and even the Lord's Prayer was modernised so that these now had to be read rather than 'recited' in an attempt to try and popularise the services.
It is my belief that if we are to grow spiritually there needs to be a shift in consciousness which can only be achieved through silence.... .and structured religion seemed to completely miss the point.
It didn't much help when guitars were introduced and the services started to feel more like a cabaret act with entertainment seemingly being the main purpose. There was no room for any quiet reflection and contemplation.
I then stumbled upon Buddhism and liked the emphasis placed on silent meditation and the logical teachings which were always open to discussion. The spiritual journey was inward and did not require hymns and long winded and often pointless sermons. However, the teachings ceased when the teacher moved away. My mother, who had attended Quaker meetings, suggested this as an option and I found what I had been looking for.
I believe that creative ability comes out of quiet reflection and in these days of increased secularism, where time appears to have speeded up, it is refreshing to have the opportunity at the beginning of the week to be able to sit and reflect with like minded people for one uninterrupted hour .... where time appears to stand still!
It is my belief that if we are to grow spiritually there needs to be a shift in consciousness which can only be achieved through silence.... .and structured religion seemed to completely miss the point.
It didn't much help when guitars were introduced and the services started to feel more like a cabaret act with entertainment seemingly being the main purpose. There was no room for any quiet reflection and contemplation.
I then stumbled upon Buddhism and liked the emphasis placed on silent meditation and the logical teachings which were always open to discussion. The spiritual journey was inward and did not require hymns and long winded and often pointless sermons. However, the teachings ceased when the teacher moved away. My mother, who had attended Quaker meetings, suggested this as an option and I found what I had been looking for.
I believe that creative ability comes out of quiet reflection and in these days of increased secularism, where time appears to have speeded up, it is refreshing to have the opportunity at the beginning of the week to be able to sit and reflect with like minded people for one uninterrupted hour .... where time appears to stand still!
Friday, 11 March 2016
Our Stories: Imogen
I had an experience of the presence of God as a child, walking along the lane to primary school with the dog-roses flowering in the hedge beside me. Someone once asked me, why should I have this experience when others don't? Maybe it was just the quiet of a country lane in summer, maybe it was because it was a time of need and unhappiness, and that often opens us up to the spiritual in a way that times of peace and content do not. As a result of this, I was christened and confirmed into the Church of England, but in my early teens I suddenly realised that I was affirming a creed in which I did not believe.
Truthfulness has always seemed to me to matter, and indeed it is at the core and centre of Quakerism. Three or four years later I attended my first Quaker meeting and had that sense of coming home which so many experience, though it was another seven or eight years before I fitted it into the pattern of my life and began to attend regularly and finally to come into membership.
That was nearly forty years ago, and of course it proved to be the beginning of a journey, not the destination. Periods of spiritual detachment or 'dryness' followed, periods of doubt or downright disaffection, and many periods of disappointment when I felt I had failed to accomplish God's will, failed to follow the Quaker way, failed in the most basic fundamentals to be a Christian. What upholds me is silent worship and that experience of holding the light in the centre, inviting the presence of God, of listening rather than speaking, so different from meditation and worship as experienced elsewhere. What inspires me is that unique combination of practical with mystical, of social conscience with spirituality, which is represented in the Quaker way; if I cannot achieve it I can aspire to it.
Friday, 4 March 2016
Our Stories: Sonja
I grew up in Denmark as a Lutheran and my lovely mother was a regular church goer so it was a natural environment for me. As I became an adult I slipped a bit - too busy to keep up with going to church.
Eventually I ended up in Withyham and I was very attached to the church there. It happens to be very beautiful - the twins were baptised and confirmed there.
After 21 years we moved to Crowborough and my local church was All Saints which is near to my home. It was busy - a lot of music - so it should have been just the right place for me but I never felt
comfortable there.
The vicar was actually very charismatic but his view of Christianity was miles away from mine. He refused to bless a newly married couple because the wife was divorced (no fault of hers) and she actually worked as a youth leader at the church.
Then the war in Iraq broke out - I had done everything in my power to stop it (demonstrations etc) and walked down to the church on a Sunday morning in absolute despair and the war was not mentioned.
That was the last straw! I called up my Quaker Friend, Henry Bernstein, who had told me for years that I really was a Quaker. At that time Henry was an Elder at TW and I went with him to the meeting
the following Sunday and never looked back.
I had found my spiritual home and I am very grateful.
Eventually I ended up in Withyham and I was very attached to the church there. It happens to be very beautiful - the twins were baptised and confirmed there.
After 21 years we moved to Crowborough and my local church was All Saints which is near to my home. It was busy - a lot of music - so it should have been just the right place for me but I never felt
comfortable there.
The vicar was actually very charismatic but his view of Christianity was miles away from mine. He refused to bless a newly married couple because the wife was divorced (no fault of hers) and she actually worked as a youth leader at the church.
Then the war in Iraq broke out - I had done everything in my power to stop it (demonstrations etc) and walked down to the church on a Sunday morning in absolute despair and the war was not mentioned.
That was the last straw! I called up my Quaker Friend, Henry Bernstein, who had told me for years that I really was a Quaker. At that time Henry was an Elder at TW and I went with him to the meeting
the following Sunday and never looked back.
I had found my spiritual home and I am very grateful.
Thursday, 3 March 2016
Coming Up: "Why I Became A Quaker"
Recently I attended a Quaker Outreach conference, which was as much fun as you'd expect - or possibly more... ;)
It's always interesting to be in a room with eighty or so other Friends - the nice thing is that they feel like friends as well as Friends - and it was great to get a lot of input about the best ways to Reach Out. We would like to do more reaching out, frankly, so I was frantically taking notes. You'll be glad to know that I'm not going to summarise an entire weekend in this blog post, but one of the themes that came through most strongly was the need for us all to share our stories. Because, after all, most of us come to Quakerism because our lives have somehow led us to it - and those stories, personal and specific as they are, sometimes speak more strongly to other people than all sorts of theological debates.
So I have asked members (and attenders, of course) of Tunbridge Wells Meeting to share their stories of how they came to Meeting. At the conference, telling and listening to stories face-to-face, I realised how much of a privilege it was to hear people talk frankly about their spiritual journeys - so thank you in advance to everyone who contributes.
That's a bit of an introduction - call it a trailer... And coming soon, to a screen near you...
It's always interesting to be in a room with eighty or so other Friends - the nice thing is that they feel like friends as well as Friends - and it was great to get a lot of input about the best ways to Reach Out. We would like to do more reaching out, frankly, so I was frantically taking notes. You'll be glad to know that I'm not going to summarise an entire weekend in this blog post, but one of the themes that came through most strongly was the need for us all to share our stories. Because, after all, most of us come to Quakerism because our lives have somehow led us to it - and those stories, personal and specific as they are, sometimes speak more strongly to other people than all sorts of theological debates.
So I have asked members (and attenders, of course) of Tunbridge Wells Meeting to share their stories of how they came to Meeting. At the conference, telling and listening to stories face-to-face, I realised how much of a privilege it was to hear people talk frankly about their spiritual journeys - so thank you in advance to everyone who contributes.
That's a bit of an introduction - call it a trailer... And coming soon, to a screen near you...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)