I had a salutary lesson in sober thinking when I was first asked to become an elder. 

The invitation appalled me; I felt I was not old enough, had not been in the Society long enough; 

I suspected strongly that my monthly meeting had asked me on the inadequate grounds of vocal ministry; I read up the appropriate passages in Church government and felt still more appalled. 

Nevertheless I had been in the Society just long enough to know that the group often has a wisdom which can seldom be justified on logical grounds but which is, nevertheless, superior to the wisdom of the individual. I therefore went to consult a much respected elder of my acquaintance. 

She and her house were late Victorian; she sat on her ugly sofa with the poker up her spine, her feet set neatly together and her hands folded in her lap; and she let me talk myself out. 

When I had quite finished she inclined herself slightly towards me and said: ‘My dear, we have to take what we can get.’ 

I have since been convinced that this is a text which ought to be framed and hung up over the bed of every elder in the Society: it ought to be hung over the bed of every Friend who is tempted to refer to the elders as ‘they’. 

12:08
1982