by Rev. Emma Chattin
October 10,2013
Lighting the Chalice
Reading
The candle wick and the flame stand apart, each one from the other.
And yet together, they become something more,
burning together without burning up,
a thing of lasting illumination, and a cradle of warmth in the chalice.
May we, like the wick and flame, learn to unite our differences
into something much more than we could ever be apart.
First Reading Genesis 11: 1-9
Throughout the earth, people spoke the same language and used the same words. Now, as they moved eastward, they found a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there. They all said to one another, ‘Let us make bricks, and bake them in the fire.’ They used bricks as building stones, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, ‘Let us build ourselves a city, and a tower whose top can reach to heaven. Let us make a name for ourselves, to keep us from being scattered over the face of the whole earth.’ YHWH came down to see the city and the tower these mortals had built. ‘They are a single people with a single language,’ YHWH said. ’And this is but the beginning of their undertakings! Now there will be nothing too hard for them to do. Come, let us go down and confuse their language so that they can no longer understand one another.’ So YHWH scattered them over the face of the earth, and they had to stop building the city. It was named Babel, because YHWH confused the language of all the earth. It was from there that YHWH scattered them over the whole earth.
Second Reading
~from Robert Lawrence Smith in A Quaker Book of Wisdom:
Life Lessons in Simplicity, Service, and Common Sense
Nonviolence has always been the most paradoxical, counterintuitive, and optimistic of Quaker ideals. Ever since Cain settled his conflict with Abel through premeditated murder, violence and the lust for dominance and revenge have been viewed as inevitable aspects of human relations. The ancient Greeks saw war as a natural state of affairs: “All things come into being and pass through strife,†Heraclitus wrote. And throughout time, nations, tribes, and individuals have readily turned to weaponry to exert control or settle differences- while their poets and balladeers celebrated war heroes and the glory of battle.
In the seventeenth century, the first generation of Quakers suffered the consequences of their pacifism when hundreds were routinely jailed for refusing to serve in the king’s militia. In the Revolutionary War, most Quakers refused to bear arms, but an estimated 500 were “read out†of their Meetings for joining up with the colonial forces. Abraham Lincoln, at the height of the Civil War, wrote to a prominent Friend, Eliza Gurney, “Your people, the Friends, have had, and are having a very great trial. On principal and faith, opposed to both war and oppression, they can only practically oppose oppression by war. In this hard dilemma, some have chosen one horn, and some have chosen the other.â€