Jane Furnas was the planned speaker on May 24, 2026.

I recently heard a song on public radio for which I haven’t been able to find the full lyrics or even the title, but a particular phrase has stayed with me.  It was a reference to the “grace of a changed mind.”  The phrase resonated with me for capturing the redemptive dignity of letting go, of switching paths when we can no longer defend the one we’re on.  I’d encountered this same sentiment several months ago, as well.  A friend sang for me a Singing Resistance song sung, I believe, to state legislators in the wake of Federal Agents’ actions in Minnesota:

“Ohh, it’s okay to change your mind.

Show us your courage,

leave this behind.”

I see this reverence for changed minds echoed in the Quaker grounding that there is that of God in everyone. In some writings “that of God in everyone” is described as a call to look past perceived differences and a person’s mistakes, and connect to the divine spirit within.  Quakers bear witness to the light within ourselves and within other people, to heal, to grow, to forbear, to bridge, to change.

Margaret Fell has long struck me as a key actor in early Quakerism’s peaceable encouragement of changed minds. Margaret became a central writer of letters to inform and support far-flung Quakers, and also to appeal to King Charles II and Parliament, sometimes delivering them in person, advocating for Quaker causes, for ceasing persecution of Quakers and for releasing Quakers from prison.  In her long, packed sentences and compressed script, her tone was one of certainty that a shared humanity would be recognized, and courage and compassion prevail.

I came across one of Margaret’s letters in a recent Friends Journal, kindly reformatted for ease of reading, and I wanted to share it this morning. The letter is to a former lieutenant-colonel in the Parliamentary army, who had become a convinced Friend and preacher. Once a favorite of Oliver Cromwell, after his convincement, he had been imprisoned as a “betrayer of his powers in the army,” Margaret writes to him:

My dear friend,
Be faithful to what you already know of God,
and let that show you what needs to be changed in you,
what you can let go of,
be freed of,
so the Light can help you to become more of who you yearn to be.

Stay humble,
that the divine tree may take root in you downward,
and upwards you will grow straight and true.
You will be rooted, grounded, into the rock of the Lord,
unshakeable.

Storms will not be able to beat you down,
earthquakes unable to loosen your anchor.

When troubles and trials come, you will remain sure
and confident, and know a living strength in the Light
and a pure peace.

Nothing will be able to take that from you.

So, my dear heart, be humbly regardful of the Divine,
hold fast to Its light,
and life no longer will be a heavy burden.

You will be free from what oppresses you,
and that in you which hungers will be fed,
and your thirsty soul will be satisfied.

As far as you can, clean out your own house.
When you’ve cleared away what doesn’t belong,
your light will no longer be hidden under masks
or debris
or wounds
but will shine out as if from a lighthouse.
People will see that beacon.

So, dear friend, meekly,
humbly,
keep within Spirit’s suggestions for your life,
so what Spirit has planted in you
may thrive.

Some divine weeding needs to be done.
What God has not planted in you,
pull it up.
What God has planted,
let it be pruned
and shaped
and
sheltered
to have the greatest possible growth.

Be purely that which twines up and around the Divine.

May you be upheld by a belief
unsullied by human motivations:
a pure belief
which is not quick to act
but stands still where the strength is.
This is the strength that overcomes all difficulties.