Imagine: Elizabeth Fletcher, a 17th Century Quaker Youth
by B. Luetke-Stahlman

Imagine that the King of your country is also the head of the only religion that is practiced there. He is Christ-like and no one - no one - questions his authority because that would be like denying the authority of God! This means, of course, that there is only one type of church. If there were cars (there aren't), it'd be easy to car pool: you, your parents, your relatives - everyone you know-goes to the same type of church service - no matter what. There is no choice. In fact, if you don't go, you're fined.

During long, boring church services on Sunday, ministers read and explain the Bible, which has just been made available to people and is the primary source of religious information. The meaning of Bible passages is not open to much interpretation. It is discussed only by those who can read, and who have been given permission by the King to share their interpretations. They use a lot of big words and complicated sentences. You have never really understood the Sunday sermons, and do not find that they feed your desire to know your God. The message is not an optimistic one: God is not loving. People like you are evil and going to hell.

It probably is no surprise that you feel no connection with what you have been told to believe. Religion is abstract and impersonal - after all, you can't read so you can't read the Bible for yourself - and no one has ever suggested that religion is something you could experienced directly. Yet, the whole topic is one of great importance; prominent in your life. Not only to you, but to most everyone. In fact, there isn't much else that people talk about these days.

Now pretend that a few months ago something very exciting happened while you, a young, uneducated, 14 year old farm girl, were in the market. You overheard a young man preaching in the town square. You couldn't help but stay and listen; he was preaching to anyone who will give him a few minutes of their time. And he was speaking with such authority, even though the words he used were not those of a well educated man. And, wearing a floppy country hat and old leather britches, he certainly didn't look like an educated man of importance.

Yet, a small crowd begins to gather around the young man-he says his name is George Fox. He is saying that everyone deserves to be loved; no one is going to hell just because they were born a particular sex, status, or race. He says he knows this because God speaks directly to him! And he says that God can speak directly to you, too, if you sit quietly and wait for direction and truth. Imagine! People can listen to God speaking directly to their hearts! Oh, the joy of these words!!

Young Fox is so convincing and you feel immediately in your heart that what he says is right. Was that God, you heard, then? Saying that it is true that all people - not just Kings or Queens-or not just ministers, or males, or rich people, or educated people, or white people-but everyone has that of God in them?

YES!

You are convinced. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt that what George Fox says is Truth.

Fox continues thrashing out his ideas with those who have gathered around him, inviting discussion. His words draw you in and you begin to participate. He doesn't discount your ideas, surely seeing more clearly now that you are but a 14-year-old farm girl. No, in fact, he seems to value and consider what you offer, as he does of all that people are sharing. And before it's all over, you know with clarity that this is the direction you life is to take, too: to travel and share Truth with others! This time you know God is talking to you and leading you.

It's hard to imagine that you leave your family and community behind. But, then, no it is not; this is right! And so, wearing the same simple clothes you have always worn, you begin to travel as a minister of the Children of Light. You travel with your new friend, young Elizabeth Leavens, to a community hundreds or miles from your home, where you have never been before. You, of course, sleep in your clothes, and you haven't had an opportunity to bathe. It seems a small miracle that you actually arrive in this town, Oxford, just as you were asked to do by Fox, who has gone off to preach as others have to other towns.

In the Oxford town square, you find a group of people, congregating. As you walk among them, you can hear that most of them are very articulate; well-educated, for this is a university town. They talk about politics and the Church of England. They argue good naturally among themselves, as much as for sport a for the true sharing of ideas. For there are no newspapers, televisions, or cell phones, and discussion in the town square is how word gets around and new ideas are discussed in these times.

And then, suddenly, the students notice you and Ellzabeth. Outsiders, in your smelly clothes and with unkempt hair. Why are you among them? Young, and surely uneducated. What could you possibly have to offer these people?

You wonder about that yourself. Did Fox know what he was doing when he asked you and Elizabeth to come here? You are nervous and unsure of what to say. You quiet and put your trust in God.

Although a modest girl, God now calls you. You think it is a test of faith - to do something very unusual to show that you will obey His messages. You have been told that it says in the Bible that God might put you to such a test, and if you do what is asked, it will show that you are sincere in your purpose. And you are definitely true in your purpose. You want these people to know what you know: that God can talk directly to them; they do not have to study to be learned professors and priests. They can experience God right now in this very moment.

Just as you are.

You strip off your clothes. The students watch you in stunned fascination. God is giving you a sign, you explain. You are supposed to do this to show that you are indeed hearing Holy words. Why else would you ever do such a thing, but to show the strength of your faith?

But the students do not believe you and you threaten all that they have been taught to believe. They chase you and Elizabeth through the narrow streets of Oxford, past shocked people who begin to yell after you and join the chase. You run, unable to say many of the words that are thundering now in your heart.

The crowd is angry and frightened of you; you see that clearly, too. You understand when some begin to whip at you with rods, cutting your skin and causing blood to pour down your back. With each slash of the whips you sing and praise the Lord, which only seems to enrage the crowd further. You are anarchists, revolutionaries, they yell.

The mayor has heard the commotion and is asked to speak to the crowd. He can bring himself to say nothing. The rioters are encouraged. They poke and jab at you, then throw you and Ellie to the ground. They beat you. Then they drag you to the town square, and tie you back to back and pour buckets and buckets of cold water over you. You can no longer sing of God's will; you can barely breathe.

When the students lose interest in the flogging, you are almost drowned and barely conscience. You hear them drift away, laughing and talking of the impossibility of what you have said. The King is the most God-like creature they will ever see, they say...The ministers of the Church of England are the only ones who can interpret God's words, as they do every Sunday. Churches, with tall steeples - that is the only place where God can be found.

Oddly, their words have no effect on you. God has asked you to show your love and you have! It is a blessing that you have heard these words and you have done as you were asked! You feel holy and happy, despite your wounds. And somehow, you and Elizabeth get yourselves out of the town and come again among friends.

Before your body is healed, you are called to traveling again and you know that you must go. There is no choice; this is your life's purpose.

You never regain your health after the severe Oxford flogging, traveling as you do as a Publisher of Truth in 17th century England. You die a couple of years later. You are then but 19.

This is based a true story. Elizabeth Fletcher, was but 14 years of age when she became convinced by Fox in 1653 and began to travel as an itinerant Quaker preacher. She and young Elizabeth Leavens went to preach in Oxford in June, 1654 as some of the first Publishers of Truth (Hodgkin, 1968, p. 37). In 1655, Fletcher journeyed to Ireland, "the marks of her brutal flogging in Oxford yet fresh" (Brailsford, 1915, p. 179). She died from her injuries when 19 years of age.

For information about additional stories of remarkable Quaker youth, please contact B. Luetke-Stahlman. If you have a fund in your monthly or yearly Meeting that might support this project, please consider doing so. Ink, paper, copies, and mailings are expensive when you no not have an income.

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