Hopework-l Mailing List: "Be the change" lunch on December 8

[John Wallace (walla003]

December 2, 2003

To:    Folk School folks

From: John Wallace

Invitation to:  Folk School lunch at John Wallace's office, this coming 

Monday, December 8, 11:30 -- 1:00

        Note the shift in place from the meetings we had for several Mondays 
at Trinity Lutheran Congregation.  You are welcome to bring your brown 

bag lunch.  Juice and cookies will be served.

     The purpose of these weekly lunch meetings is to dig into Gandhi's

saying, "You must be the change you seek in the world."  They are open, 

rolling conversations happening throughout this academic year, where 
people are free to come when they can, and come at any time between 
11:30 and 1:00.

     Last week we began by reading out a poem by William Stafford and a 

short text from John Woolman's Journal.  This seemed to work well 
(again).  We will start with another Stafford poem and an excerpt from 

Woolman's Journal this Monday.

     I am pasting in below the pieces we used last Monday.

     My office is 868 Heller Hall, on the U of MN West Bank campus.  
Close to Wilson Library and the Humphrey Institute.

Thinking For Berky

In the late night listening from bed
I have joined the ambulance or the patrol
screaming toward some drama, the kind of end
that Berky must have some day, if she isn't dead.

The wildest of all, her father and mother cruel,
farming out there beyond the old stone quarry
where high-school lovers parked their lurching cars,
Berky learned to love in that dark school.

Early her face was turned away from home
toward any hardworking place; but still her soul,
with terrible things to do, was alive, looking out
for the rescue that-surely, some day-would have to come.

Windiest nights, Berky, I have thought for you,
and no matter how lucky I've been I've touched wood.
There are things not solved in our town though tomorrow came:
there are things time passing can never make come true.

We live in an occupied country, misunderstood;
justice will take us millions of intricate moves.
Sirens will hunt down Berky, you survivors in your beds
listening through the night, so far and good.

William Stafford


The Journal of John Woolman

John Woolman lived from 1720 to 1772.  Like many Quakers, Woolman kept 

a spiritual journal, that he began writing in 1756.  The writing looks 

backward, beginning with his birth, and continues until the end of his 

life.  The entry below concerns some struggles he had in expressing his 

views about lotteries, at the Yearly Meeting at Newport, Rhode Island, 

in 1760; it is from Chapter Seven. of the Journal.

And now an exercise revived in my mind in relation to lotteries, which 

were common in those parts. I had mentioned the subject in a former 
sitting of this meeting, when arguments were used in favor of Friends 
being held excused who were only concerned in such lotteries as were 
agreeable to law. And now, on moving it again, it was opposed as 
before; but the hearts of some solid Friends appeared to be united to 
discourage the practice amongst their members, and the matter was 
zealously handled by some on both sides. In this debate it appeared 
very clear to me that the spirit of lotteries was a spirit of 
selfishness, which tended to confuse and darken the understanding, and 

that pleading for it in our meetings, which were set apart for the 
Lord's work, was not right. In the heat of zeal, I made reply to what 
an ancient Friend said, and when I sat down I saw that my words were 
not enough seasoned with charity. After this I spoke no more on the 
subject. At length a minute was made, a copy of which was to be sent to 

their several Quarterly Meetings, inciting Friends to labor to 
discourage the practice amongst all professing with us.

Some time after this minute was made I remained uneasy with the manner 

of my speaking to the ancient Friend, and could not see my way clear to 

conceal my uneasiness, though I was concerned that I might say nothing 

to weaken the cause in which I had labored. After some close exercise 
and hearty repentence for not having attended closely to the safe 
guide, I stood up, and, reciting the passage, acquainted Friends that 
though I durst not go from what I had said as to the matter, yet I was 

uneasy with the manner of my speaking, believing milder language would 

have been better. As this was uttered in some degree of creaturely 
abasement after a warm debate, it appeared to have a good savor amongst 
us.