by Adria Gulizia
Have you ever been to FGC Gathering? It’s a lot.
It’s a lot of Friends gathered together – over a thousand, as a matter of fact.
It’s a lot of sensory stimulation – just finding a table at mealtimes can be an exhausting
adventure in color and sound.
It’s a lot of opportunity. As multiple events run concurrently throughout the day, the incredible
possibilities – of singing, of dancing, of lectures, of experiences – sit side by side with the sad
realization that there is neither sufficient time nor energy to do everything one might wish to.
My trip to Gathering at Haverford College in Pennsylvania a few weeks ago was only my second
Gathering experience, the first having taken place in 2018. As then, I co-facilitated a workshop
with Peter Blood-Patterson on the origins of Quakerism and what modern Quakers can learn
from the first generation of Friends. I also co-led a “taste test” for God’s Promise Fulfilled with
Joann Neuroth for Friends who wanted to get to know us and the program. I did do some
dancing, thanks to the reconciling folk dance ministry of Mark Judkins. And I attended some of
the plenaries and worship sessions, including the incredibly grounded and Spirit-covered
opening worship.
But I was surprised, as the week wore on, to realize that my deepest, richest experiences at
Gathering were not programs listed on any schedule or experiences curated by any leader.
Instead, they were soul-to-soul encounters in unexpected places – a bench on a tiny porch, a
couch in the dining hall, a car heading to Target, a line at the Information Desk – in which every
moment contained the fullness of eternity and heaven seemed to come to earth.
From the joys and sorrows of the family circle to public conflict in our yearly meetings, from the
tender flowering of the spiritual life to the might and horror of Empire, topics rose to share and to
consider and to hold in the Light. I encountered new friends and old friends, not simply as
individuals with whom I might share a greater or lesser degree of personal affinity, but as
divinely-imaged creations thirsting with me after the same Living Water and, by God’s grace,
finding it together.
Three weeks later, the meaning of my time at Gathering is still unfolding. As a professional
woman and solo parent, zest and commitment and eagerness to do are often advantages. In a
single day, I may run three miles, conduct a training, do policy revisions, and wrangle a dozen
energetic Cub Scouts into something approximating an orderly group. My great temptation – the
desire to squeeze 30 hours of work and fun into a 24-hour day – is often a great strength.
And yet it was by saying no to many of Gathering’s incredible offerings, by resisting the
pressure to seize the opportunities of the moment and instead taking time for eternity, that the
sweetness of God’s presence and the connection we all share to a Reality that binds us
together became undeniable and full and so, so precious. Instead of replicating my habitual
busyness, Gathering became an unexpected oasis from it, proof that saying no to good things
can create space to say yes to better ones.
I don’t yet know how this beautiful experience of embracing the spirit of Sabbath will translate
into the hustle and bustle of my daily life, but I believe that it will, in the fullness of time. And for
that, I am deeply grateful.
