Jean Toomer
Jean Toomer (1894-1967) was an American writer and prominent fixture during the Harlem Renaissance. He was born into a mixed-race family, including his grandfather, P. B. S. Pinchback, who was the first U.S. governor of African American descent. Toomer attended multiple universities focusing on a wide range of subjects like sociology, history and philosophy. He began writing essays about the African American experience, particularly in the southern states. His best-known work, Cane, was published in 1923 and was revered among both Black and white critics. It catapulted Toomer’s career making him one of the most recognizable writers of his era.
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An Interpretation of Friends Worship - Jean Toomer
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Title: An Interpretation of Friends Worship
Author: N. Jean Toomer
Release Date: February 11, 2008 [EBook #24576]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIENDS WORSHIP ***
Produced by Mark C. Orton, Stephen Blundell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
An Interpretation of
Friends Worship
By
N. Jean Toomer
Published by
THE COMMITTEE ON RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
FRIENDS GENERAL CONFERENCE
1515 Cherry Street, Philadelphia 2, Pa.
Price twenty-five cents
CONTENTS
Copyright 1947
Friends General Conference
Transcriber's Note:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
INTRODUCTION
I was not more than ten years old when I first heard mention of the Quakers. The grown-ups of my family were talking among themselves, speaking of an uncle of mine who lived in Philadelphia and operated a pharmacy near the university. I had never seen this uncle and was curious about him, so my ears were open. Presently a reference to the Quakers caught my attention. I wanted to know who the Quakers were. What was told me then I have remembered ever since. The Quakers, I was told, are people who wait for the spirit to move them.
A picture formed in my mind. Many a time I had seen my grandmother sitting quietly, an aura of peace around her as she sewed or crocheted or did her beautiful embroidery work. So I pictured older people, most of them with white hair like my grandparents, all with kindly faces, gathered in silent assembly, heads bent slightly forward, waiting to be moved. It never occurred to me that young people, boys and girls of my age and even younger, might be present and participating.
As the word spirit
meant nothing definite to me, I could have no idea of just what would move the Quakers, but I had a sense that it would be something within them, perhaps like the stirrings that sometimes moved me, and I may have had a vague notion that this something within them was somehow related to what people called God. I never thought to ask what the Quakers might do after they were moved.
Had I been invited in those days to attend a Friends meeting for worship I would have gladly gone. I would have gone because my picturings had given me good feelings about the Quakers. I would have gone because, young though I was, I liked to be silent now and again. Sometimes my best friend and I would sit quietly together, happy that we were together but not wanting to talk. Sometimes I would go off by myself on walks to look at the wonders of nature, to think my own thoughts, to dream, to feel something stirring in me for which I had no name. Or I might withdraw for a time from the activities of the boys and girls and sit on the porch of our house, my outward eyes watching them at play, my inward eyes turned to an inner life that was as real to me, and sometimes more wonderful than my life with the group.
Certain experiences I had when alone, certain experiences I had with my young friends, attitudes and feelings that would suddenly arise in me at any time or place—these made up the mainstream of my religious life. Such religion as I had was life-centered, not book-centered, not church-centered. It arose from the well of life within me, and within my friends and parents. It arose from the well of life within nature and the human world. It consisted in my response to flowers, trees, birds, snow, the smell of the earth after a spring rain, sunsets and the starry sky. It consisted in my devotion to pet rabbits and dogs, and to some interest or project that caught my imagination.
I had been taught several formal prayers. One of