My most powerful worship experience of the last decade took place on a chilly morning last November, on a folding chair outside Vanguard headquarters in Malvern, PA. About fifty people joined in this worship, organized by Earth Quaker Action Team (EQAT) and Quaker Earthcare Witness (QEW).
EQAT is a grassroots nonviolent action group whose latest campaign is focused on Vanguard, the world’s largest investor in fossil fuels. EQAT shares the task of holding Vanguard to a higher standard with campaign partners around the world, including QEW, Sierra Club, Amazon Watch, and Greenfaith.
I have been involved with EQAT for eight years and grown a lot as an activist in that time. Despite having been raised as a Quaker among many people with a healthy skepticism towards “the powers that be,” I have always been accommodating to authority. There was a time when just walking down the sidewalk with a group of people on our way to a protest was enough to strike fear in my heart and bring sweat to my brow.
However, as my concerns for the earth’s wellbeing have mounted over the years, I have felt increasingly compelled to undertake spirit-led, public action, as uncomfortable as it might feel. With practice, and with the help and encouragement of EQAT trainings and actions, taking a stand in protests and nonviolent direct actions has become more comfortable.
Last fall, I found myself drawn toward a type of direct action that EQAT had conducted before, but that I had never joined in – public meeting for worship within a larger protest or action. This spoke to me as a particularly powerful version of Friend’s corporate spiritual practice – seeking “that of God” together in worship while undertaking bold action for justice at the same time.
EQAT has been holding public meetings for worship ever since its founding – starting with their campaign against PNC Bank’s investment in mountaintop-removal coal mining. Quakers and allies worshipped in bank lobbies until they were arrested, and after five years of pressure from EQAT, PNC Bank changed its investments policy in March 2015.
This kind of purposeful, public display of Quaker faith and practice called to me. So, when I heard about plans for a public meeting for worship within an upcoming “Vanguard S.O.S.” action, I knew I wanted to be there.
I set out from home the morning of the action to meet participants and organizers in a park near Vanguard headquarters. I was pleased to see many familiar faces, as well as many I did not know.
Together, we talked through the action. Most of us planned to worship in front of Vanguard headquarters for about a half an hour with a “virtual” group of worshippers joining us online, under the care of Quaker Earthcare Witness. Meanwhile, a small pre-arranged group would seek to block vehicles from entering the Vanguard property. Before we left the park, we practiced how we would arrange our chairs and signs when we arrived at Vanguard. While these details may seem trivial, I’ve learned that these discussions and practice sessions are part of the magic that has grown my tolerance for civil disobedience and non-violent direct action. Although we never actually know what is going to happen, thinking ahead allows my nervous system to relax, making me more available to movements of Spirit throughout the action.
Finally, we took the short walk to Vanguard headquarters, passing a handful of police who had gathered for the occasion. We set up our chairs and signs on the lawn, just off the sidewalk. The group that planned to block traffic huddled nearby, assessing the situation.
Our action began with one Friend making a public statement of acknowledgement of the Lenni-Lenape people and their centuries of stewardship of the land we were on. Another Friend offered a brief orientation to Quaker worship for newcomers, and then we settled in.
Although I’ve been a practicing Quaker for most of my life, I have struggled in recent years to hear the still small voice within. Perhaps it’s the newly minted anxiety of being a parent to a toddler; perhaps it’s the atrophy of my worshiping “muscles” after the break in practice during the pandemic and early parenthood. Whatever the reason, I have struggled lately to experience the stream of worship that used to seem familiar.
So, it was remarkable to me that day when, as soon as I closed my eyes and settled into worship, my heart and mind became focused. I felt grounded immediately. With cars and trucks driving by, some beeping their support, others slowing to take pictures, still others lining up at the light to turn onto the Vanguard campus, I felt the pull of a deep stillness helping me connect to the significance of the moment. I felt the echoes of other non-violent direct actions that had taken place on this site over the past few years. I felt the support of Friends worshiping with us online. (I later learned that over twenty people joined that way, from across the U.S. and even the Democratic Republic of Congo!) I felt connected with countless earth-protectors who had come before, grateful for the path they had prepared. I felt compassion for all who could not join us on this path to justice yet, and I felt confident hope that they would soon find their way.
My heart was beating out of my chest, which I’ve come to recognize as a leading to share vocal ministry. I sat with that feeling, testing it. When I opened my eyes, I saw that the traffic-blockers were slowly crossing the street, holding a banner, effectively blocking several cars from entering the Vanguard campus. Police stood nearby. I remained seated and held the group in my heart as they slowly progressed to fill the crosswalk. The traffic light overhead went through one complete cycle, then started another. At that point, a policeman barked loudly, “Alright, you’ve got twenty seconds.” The group continued blocking traffic for the duration of the second traffic light cycle, then made it out of the intersection without any arrests.
I closed my eyes. My thoughts and heart returned to the stream of worship. Soon my heart was beating out of my chest again. I questioned, waited, and feeling no slackening in the urgency to rise, opened my eyes and stood. As I began to share my ministry, I noticed that the group with the banner was slowly crossing another street, under the close watch of the police, blocking traffic once again, using their bodies to halt “business as usual.”
Both of the moments when I felt led to give ministry were moments when our friends with the banner were stepping out into the street, in defiance of the law, seeking to change our world for the better. I don’t think that was a coincidence. My faithfulness in worship felt to me also like faithfulness to our work for justice.
I’m grateful to EQAT for creating a Quaker version of long-held spiritual activist methodologies, especially prayer and worship during non-violent direct actions. I wonder what difference we can make for each other and our world by bringing our prayerful worship more fully into our every effort for justice.
I hope to learn and experiment with more ways to bring worship into work for justice in the years to come –with EQAT and beyond. One likely opportunity might come this July, at the Friends General Conference gathering on the Haverford campus, which is just a few miles from Vanguard headquarters. I look forward to hearing about the plans for EQAT actions that will happen that week, actions that will offer all of us there opportunities to participate in this effort to bring about a better world. I hope you will join me!
Hannah Mayer supports the administrative function and programs of Quaker organizations, currently serving as Operations Coordinator at Thee Quaker Project. A member of Maury River Friends Meeting in Virginia, Hannah now worships at Lansdowne Friends Meeting. She lives in Philadelphia with her husband and daughter.