Too Long; Didn't Read: Who Are Public Ministers? A Review of The Past Two Months!
- windycooler
- Sep 2
- 7 min read
It's been two months since our last "Too Long; Didn't Read" update on our blog activity at the Friends Incubator. During this time our blog has circled around one urgent and beautiful question: What does it mean to be called into public ministry?
Importantly, we have also been consumed with a surge of responses to our new fellowship program for meetings and ministers. Here we have much to report. It's hard to believe that we have only existed as a formal, funded program with a name for about five months, given everything that has happened during this same period. It is a testament to the strength found in patient, grassroots, collaborative co-creation. We've been a scrappy, unnamed set of informal relationships working toward today since 2022. One of the things we are experiencing today, though, is an urgent need for more funding to meet the surge. Please read on. We simply had no idea, despite all the preparation.
The answers to our central question these past two months, drawn from the voices of Friends past and present, have been as diverse as they are Spirit-filled. Public ministry is not a role, a credential, or a job. Again and again, ministers describe it as something that rises up within: an “overwhelming physical feeling,” an “undeniable fire” that “demands expression.” One Friend warned: “If ignored or kept inside for too long, it’s going to…it’s gonna rot.” In other words, for the one called, public ministry isn’t optional. It is the Spirit pressing outward through human life—sometimes costly, sometimes lonely, always alive.
Faithfulness: Showing Up When It Costs Something
Angela Hopkins reminds us that faithfulness is not about perfection or polish: “It’s not that it looks like, you know, Rembrandt made it. But have I been faithful to the peace?” Faithfulness in public ministry is integrity—listening deeply to Spirit and showing up, again and again, even when it is thankless, sharp, or unseen. It is a kind of covenant with God: to keep carrying the concern, no matter the cost.
And the cost is real. Angela depleted her savings for the sake of her ministry and now lives on Social Security. As we wrote: “The structure of our meetings failed her.” Other ministers speak of burnout, isolation, or the “unseen cultural tax” borne by ministers of color. And yet, the fire persists. Why have we seemingly wanted to put it out?
Ministry Beyond Shape
We’ve celebrated the many surprising forms ministry can take. Kody Hersh insists that “art is not only compatible with ministry, it can be a powerful form of it.” In his words, “On a stage, a tapestry, or in a worship circle, the gifts we bring—rooted in love—are how we help one another live into transformation.”
Our stories have lifted up ministries as varied as:
Art & theater — Amanda Kemp’s Show Me the Franklins; eppchez yo-sí yes’s performances; Cai Quirk’s Queer Temple Project; Peterson Toscano’s Transfigurations.
Justice & healing — AVP (Alternatives to Violence Project); acupuncture in trauma-affected regions; anti-racism ministry; walking pilgrimages for immigrant justice.
Writing & witness — books-in-progress, historical reframings, and the continuing testimonies of Friends like Angela Hopkins and ross brubeck.
In short, ministry is found “wherever Spirit and faithfulness meet.”
Prophetic Witness (Criticizing & Energizing)
In our drop-in seminar on Walter Brueggemann’s work—The Prophetic Imagination and beyond—Jim Webner helped us sit with two modes of prophetic ministry: criticizing (lament, grief, protest) and energizing (hope, amazement, praise, poetry). Prophetic speech is “always partisan,” standing with the enslaved and not Pharaoh. It can be “alienating, uncomfortable, even confrontational,” and may “shock, unsettle, or even offend.” But it also sings us into a new future through “song, poetry, and worship.”
From George Fox’s invitation to “live in the virtue of that Life and Power which takes away the occasion for wars,” to Sinead O’Connor’s disruptive truth-telling on SNL, to Greta Thunberg’s searing cry over climate collapse—prophetic ministry insists: there is an alternative.
Brueggemann warns that churches can become enculturated—captured by consumerism and institutional survival—losing their prophetic edge. The task of ministry, he writes, is “to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the dominant culture.” Early Friends knew this. Refusing hat honor and titles, naming women and men as spiritual equals, refusing court oaths, and embracing pacifism—they embodied a living “no” to the empire’s imagination and a living “yes” to God’s.
Community and the Call to Support
Again and again, our posts have testified that ministry isn’t sustainable in isolation. Historically, public ministers were upheld by meetings with prayer, companionship, and material backing.
Today, we’re challenged to do the same:
“Build relationships, not just procedures. Fund what is faithful, not just what is familiar.”
Clearness committees remain a beloved tool: “It acknowledges, it affirms, it encourages… It takes people seriously.”
Eldership—spiritual companionship and midwifery—offers listening, guidance, accountability, and challenge.
Financial support is equally vital. The Lyman Fund, born from three Quaker women’s leading to share inherited wealth, has given $1.7M to 660+ individuals without ever fundraising. Tracy Booth reminds us: “Money can be ministry… Giving financially to a leading is itself a ministry.”
And yet, as ross brubeck’s Walk to Washington showed, ministers still struggle: “It feels wrong to ask for money.” The truth is plain: demands for ministry cost something, and communities must learn to carry that cost together.
The Cloud of Witnesses
We’ve remembered public ministers of centuries past with Tom Hamm...
John Woolman—a “quietly relentless” minister whose lived witness against slavery, wealth, and war still unsettles and guides us.
Priscilla Hunt Cadwallader—defended by her meeting, Blue River Friends, even in scandal; they published Truth and Innocency Defended.
George Fox—teaching that true preaching arises from the Spirit, not credentials.
...While we’ve celebrated these living voices.
Each voice, past and present, adds to the song of prophetic ministry.
How Meetings Identify, Nurture, and Sustain Ministry
Identify. Calls often arrive as a “quiet but insistent tug,” an “overwhelming physical feeling,” a “fire” that “couldn’t not happen.” While personal, callings are often called out by community—through relationship, spiritual labor, and clearness. Some bodies “record” or “release” ministers whose service widens beyond a single meeting.
Embrace breadth. Ministry is “broad—and beautiful.” If someone is pouring their heart into the world with Spirit at their back, that’s ministry. Art can be ministry; protest can be ministry; healing work can be ministry.
Nurture. Deep listening, trauma-aware eldership, and truthful relationships matter. Angela urges us to “build trust, not just structures,” to allow truth-telling and to break the illusion that unity requires sameness or silence. Ministers need courage, tenderness, spiritual grounding, and communities of accountability.
Sustain. Ministry is often costly—especially for Friends with less social power or from marginalized groups. Tracy Booth names the invitation: “Support makes faithfulness possible.” Meetings can:
Form spiritual care groups for ministers.
Build clear accountability and funding structures.
“Fund what is faithful, not just what is familiar.”
Offer material enablement (like Brooklyn Friends giving office space to ross).
Make space for ministers to be whole people, not idealized symbols. As Priscilla’s story shows, meetings can choose love over discipline and hold both faithfulness and humanity.
A Movement, Not an Institution—And a Fellowship That Works
At the heart of our shared reflection is the Friends Incubator for Public Ministry. We are a “grassroots, collaborative, living response.” Since 2022, we’ve offered workshops, storytelling, quiet accompaniment—and now, a two-year fellowship for teams of minister + elder + meeting.
What the Fellowship Is (2026–2028). A fully funded, two-year journey for five teams, focused on making ministry sustainable for minister, meeting, and the wider body.
Components include:
Two week-long retreats
Regional residencies hosted by participating meetings
Peer support, spiritual accompaniment, and shared discernment
Formation in practical and spiritual skills
We’re drawing on the best of our tradition: Fox’s Spirit-led preaching, Priscilla’s community-backed courage, Brian Drayton’s wisdom on inward formation, and the Lyman Fund’s clearness-and-care model that honors artists, justice workers, and all who labor in love.
Where it’s working. Demand has been overwhelming—ten times as many outstanding applicants as funded spots. Applications overflowed while still open; our convener has been “discerning with BRILLIANT ministers nonstop.”
Friends are telling us clearly: the hunger for Spirit-led, well-accompanied ministry is deeper than we imagined.
Why we call this success. In a culture that often rewards polish over faithfulness, the fellowship is re-training our communal muscles for discernment, accompaniment, repair, and material enablement. The fellowship is helping communities build what lasts.
And this work, in all of its egalitarian enthusiasm, is catching on in all kinds of places. For instance, this year's Quaker Theological Discussion Group is organized around the topic of public ministry.
Our convener presented in-person at nine yearly meetings and Pendle Hill on public ministry since May. These workshops were packed, and everyone knew how to answer the question "What is your ministry call?" This shocked even Windy.
What we need next. To meet the demand, we need substantially more resources—a much, much bigger boat. If your heart is tugging, consider three actions:
Pray for ministers and meetings in discernment.
Accompany—offer your gifts as an elder, care-group member, or connector.
Invest—because “money can be ministry.”
We are building a movement, not an institution. But movements still need fuel—love, companionship, and yes, money—so that faithfulness can flourish.
About our cover image:
Lynne Piersol recently responded to a request to create a Zentangle celebrating tall poppies. What a beautiful piece she drew! As many public ministers know, we are sometimes afraid of those who stand out, and the "tall poppies" among us get mowed down. The Friends Incubator, with its sustained response to the public minister's claim to creative freedom in the loving arms of a meeting, recalls the words of Luke 12, "consider the ravens...consider the wildflowers" as a call to live into the prophetic task with joy and without anxiety.
But most of all Tall Poppy, live.
Here's more about Lynne:
About 13 years ago, Lynne discovered the Zentangle® method of drawing, a meditative practice that resonated deeply with her. Having never felt confident in representational art, she found that Zentangle offered a path into creativity that fit her well. Mostly self-taught, she has been creating Zentangle Inspired Art ever since, often giving away her work in the form of handmade cards.
For several years, Lynne has participated in two annual projects: Fun-a-Day in January, during which she makes a valentine each day, and Inktober Tangles in October, where she creates a tangle-a-day from a list of prompts. Her artwork can be viewed on Instagram as well as in a limited collection on the Fellowship of Quakers in the Arts website.
This artistic practice brings Lynne joy and has allowed her to embrace the identity of “artist,” a title she had never felt comfortable with before. Inspired by nature, she especially enjoys drawing organic tangles and incorporating the outlines of leaves she gathers on walks. Sharing her art with others feels, to her, like giving away a piece of herself. Each February, she delights in sending out 31 or more valentines.
Lynne is a member of Swarthmore Meeting, part of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, and is a retired social worker.
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