Introduction: We will first journey to Wales, before learning about the faith of the quakers, and their immigration to the new world. Once there we will walk though today’s gospel and the transformative power of light.

Prayer
Once Upon a time, when Merlin’s spells and dragons still guarded the ancient shores of Camry, (known to most as the country of Wales), the restless and adventurous Prince Madoc gathered his fellow countrymen into a long wooden ship and sailed towards the Western seas. After many weeks of wicked rain, blazing sun, and star filled skies, their boat met the welcoming sound of birds and the quiet calm of shallow waters.

This new land was unknown to them, but its wild landscape of towering trees and lush hills reminded them of their beloved country far, far away. But with winter approaching and dwindling provisions, the men became frightened of their fate and looked to their prince and their God for a sign. At once, dozens of curious and exotic people emerged from the forest of pine and birch., arms filled with the gifts of honey, furs and baskets full of dry goods. Overwhelmed by their generosity, the Welsh prince and his men married into these native people, and they became their kin.
And there is, to this day, a tribe of fair skinned, wavy haired native Americans who speak Welsh and call the Blue Ridge Mountains their forever home.

If you find this story too sensational to believe, then you would be right. However, this was a popular fable told throughout Wales in the 17th and 18th century. Historians aren’t quite sure how this narrative came about, but it was exceptionally inspirational to the religiously devastated and poverty stricken Welsh. Morgan John Rhys, a Quaker from Glamorgan, Wales was so taken over by this story that he publicized his hopes that Quakers would make the voyage to the Americas.

You see, as we have been learning throughout this summer, the British Isles–like much of Europe—was particularly broken at this time. Engulfed in civil war, with Scotland to the North, England to the East and Ireland to the West, the Welsh were particularly cut off from the opportunities or social mobility afforded to others. This painful reality was particularly experienced by the gentle Quakers, who led modest lives, waged no wars, nor swore no oaths.

Quakers, formally known as the Religious Society of Friends, are a historical Christian movement founded in 17th-century England by George Fox. They believe in a direct, personal connection to God without the need for formal clergy or rituals, emphasizing peace, equality, integrity, and simplicity. I believe all followers of Jesus can see the beauty of these tenants, but it is this emphasis on being intimately connected to God to be so transformative. Quakers believed that all people, no matter their faith or convictions, had something of God within them–this was their Inner Light.
Inward Light is “both the historical, living Jesus, and as the Grace of God extended to people that simultaneously makes us conscious of our sins, forgives them, and gives us the strength and the will to overcome them” and “teaches us the difference between right and wrong, truth and falseness, good and evil”

The Inner Light is that bright, beautiful, guiding dawn of good choices and altruistic love. It reveals the right path, and guides our way through the dark and dangerous choices of this world. No matter one’s beginnings or paths taken thus far, the Inner Light is burning within, just waiting to be seen.

Because the Quakers refused to pay the mandated tithes of the church and crown, they faced violent punishment and the seizure of their property, livestock and land. With Prince Madoc’s glittering fable before them, the majority of Welsh Quakers sailed towards the hope of a new world.

Initially, most immigrant stories actually began in the Caribbean, on the Island of Barbados. With subsidized travel and the promise of 5<10 acres of land after a period of indentured servitude, the West Indies attracted over two-thirds of all British immigrants to the Americas. To put this into perspective, the first English ship of 90 people arrived in 1625. However, by 1650 there were 44,000 British settlers living in the Caribbean vs. the 23,000 who were living throughout all the mainland colonies combined.

However, as the exploitation of African slaves and the profitability of sugar rose in violent succession, the majority of these settlers were pushed off the island and towards the mainland of South Carolina. Unlike the other colonies whose inhabitants came directly from other nations, South Carolina was essentially “plan B” for the majority of its British citizens.
From the Jacobite Scots who were exiled to the Americas in lieu of prison or death, to the English Shakers who fled a similar fate in Boston, to the Jewish immigrants who escaped inquisition in neighboring Georgia, to the Welsh Quakers who found the treatment of slaves in Barbados to be an abhorrent evil, South Carolina was secondary option for the desperate.
Initially, a number of Quakers who made their way to South Carolina enjoyed the charismatic approach to Christianity made popular by the itinerant preachers of the day. Their emphasis on personal responsibilities, community stewardship, and intimacy with God, resonated deeply with the Quakers who proclaimed the virtues of the Inner Light. While being an English territory, South Carolina’s religious plurality afforded the Quakers not only the space to practice—but a seat in their government as well (if only for a very brief time).

Sadly, this time of peace and a place at the table of civic life would not last for the Quakers. As South Carolina descended deeper and deeper into the sin of slavery, the Quakers ultimately left for the temperance of the midwest. However, as with many conflicts, I wonder what might have happened if they had stayed in South Carolina. I wonder how their Inner Light and convictions towards social justice, kindness and inclusion might have influenced their neighbors and leaders? We know that religious intolerance excluded Quakers from participating in South Carolina’s government, but as we know–-perhaps more so than ever—social influence reaches far beyond the power of a title or a vote.

It is much easier to be in community with those who look, believe, and vote just like you. It’s much easier to walk hand in hand with those who wash their hands with the same informed and progressive soap as you. But who will walk with those who did not have the same upbringing? Experiences? Opportunities? Who will walk with those whose parents’ bullied them into the hardened, indifferent husk of their childhood selves? Who will stay in the discomfort of divergent views and opposition as a way of sharing one’s Inner Light?

I know things were difficult for the Quakers, but I wonder if the sin of slavery would have continued if they had stayed? I wonder if slavery would have ended sooner if the Quakers had stayed in the tension of those difficult relationships and showed their neighbors how wrong—how unchristian—slavery was? Remember, even Jesus–who was seated high upon his horse of the moral highground—couldn’t put the toothpaste back into the tube.

I have said before that I only write sermons that I also need. I am no different than you, and I am sure that before the day is over, I will look down and see myself smugly saddled upon a horse made entirely of toothpaste. But in that moment, I hope I am blessed by the inner light of another. I hope that my unclean heart will be challenged by the same brave faith as the Canaanite woman.
It is true that this Gospel story carries none of the warm and fuzzy feelings we associate with the life and teachings of Jesus. However, I believe this passage is such an incredible gift to the church. It’s such an incredible gift to saints and sinners alike, because the Son of God himself, neglects his inner light. Jesus almost buys into the same institutional dogma of the Pharisees.
He judges her by the cleanliness of her hands as opposed to the purity of her heart. His words towards her are hurtful, yet she confronts him with her inner light. She could have turned away. She could have shrunk into the shadows of public humility, but she did not. She could have withdrawn from the friction of contempt, yet she stood her ground and remained in community with the Saviour who could not put the toothpaste back into the tube of his own teaching.

The gospel writer could have easily left this story out of his account, and merely covered the part where Jesus healed the woman’s daughter. However, I believe they knew how powerful this story would be to us—to know that even when we fail to be generous, when we fail to see the face of God in each other, when we fail to let our inner light shine, there will be others in our life who will remind us of God’s endless grace.

And isn’t that just spectacular? Life is difficult. And taking the moral high ground does not always carry the same moral satisfaction as the social undercut; however, I pray there will be other “Canaanite women” in our life who show us by word and deed the value of faith. I pray there will be others whose light will shine so brightly, all that is dark will simply fade away.
So as you leave this place, which part of today’s gospel will you take with you? How can we be more like the Canaanite woman? Like the humbled Jesus?  Will you pause and see the glorious light all around?