One thing I've found puzzling for a while, but only just recognised clearly enough to make a note of it: I never see any brethren around.
I live in a town that has a large brethren community, although not so many as the next town to the south, as divine imperatives have moved many in that direction. When I first absented myself, I was careful where I went, and when, so as not to embarrass either myself or people I knew when I came across them. It didn't take very long for that to wear off, though, and, to my surprise, taking care or not taking care has made very little difference.
This week, for example, I have been into three local towns, on average walking down a high street every day, during the day. Work finishes well before the shops close. Yet I haven't seen any brethren. Nor have I seen any while driving. Thinking back, weeks can go by without any sign of the community.
What does this mean? Probably nothing very much.
It does show up in yet another way, though, that for all the importance of the whole brethren community and life while you're part of it, even a small part of the wider world can swamp the whole thing. It's quite insignificant on a larger scale.
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“…even a small part of the wider world can swamp the whole thing.” That is exactly how I feel when I go walking away from roads and towns. Once you leave them behind, you discover how insignificant they are, at least in Scotland.
I get a rather similar feeling when listening to great music. It makes me think how utterly unimportant are all the petty things that people keep squabbling about.
Landscapes, music, great art, great literature, even the Bible, all put the entire history of Exclusive Brethrenism in the shade. Relatively speaking, it is of so little consequence.
After not seeing Brethren for a long time, it didn’t occur to you that maybe the Rapture has occurred? No, I thought not!
You know, I am (as usual) so on your wavelength here. When I was in the EB, I used to see them everywhere. Wherever I shouldn't have been, and whenever I shouldn't have been, there they would magically appear. About to enter the cinema or pub? Suddenly a headscarf would appear in your vision. Missed a Sunday meeting and popped into Tesco for a shop? There was the EB husband also legitimately shopping for his sick wife. I remember leaving Cardiff at 5.30 am to travel to London, and a brother tooting his horn at me as he passed me at Newport on his way to Guildford to collect some emergency medicine for his sick father.
Since I have left, and it not mattering one iota if brethren see me entering a pub or cinema, or see me Sunday-shopping, I never see them from one year round to the next. Strange, that.
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