Ring them bells ye heathen from the city that dreams / Ring them bells from the sanctuaries ‘cross the valleys and streams…
So begins one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs. But Quakers have historically been skeptical of “them bells.” Bells are features of the cursed “steeple houses” that George Fox railed against.
But some Friends built “steeple houses” anyway. My meeting previous gathered in a historic meetinghouse that had an old bell in a small steeple at the entrance. Our kids loved ringing it, so it became our standard practice to let the kiddos ring the bell to call us to worship. It often involved several kids pulling together and the rope would often lift them up off the floor.
Everyone loved it. It was fun to hear the sound of the old bell intermingling with the sound of the children’s laughter. What a holy combination. What a hopeful sound. What a lovely way to hear the call to worship.
Bells are used around the world and across spiritual traditions to sound the call that resounds in every heart. The call to prayer, the call to worship, the call to community, the call to come home, the call to God.
One morning, after the little Friends rang the bells, I remembered the words of a Leonard Cohen song: “Ring the bells that still can ring/ Forget your perfect offering/There’s a crack, a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.”
Oh, how imperfect is our offering some days. And oh how many bells have gone silent in our world — whether due to closed churches or closed hearts or broken systems.
But we still have a voice and a sound and a song. And we must ring the bells that still can ring, no matter how imperfect our offering. We must keep calling one another to prayer and worship, to silence and witness. We must keep calling the wider community to healing and transformation, to peace and justice.
In a time when so many bells have stopped ringing in our country and our world, the God of hope and history calls us to “ring them bells.”
Not long ago, our meeting began gathering in a home, so we no longer had access to the old bell. But one Friend mentioned that their aging father had randomly given him a set of handbells. So our first Sunday, we passed out the handbells, with all their colors and various octaves, and rang them wildly before worship. Because it’s what we do. Because the call needs to go forth. Because all God’s people and all God’s critters got a place in the choir. Because it’s how the Light gets in.
Whatever bells you’ve got, ring them. We need your sound and your Spirit.