“Blessed are the good-hearted, poets and the dreamers. And all us crazy, holy, hungry ones who still believe in something better.”

I went to the Wild Goose Festival for the community. Meeting for the first time this year in the hills of beautiful North Carolina, Wild Goose was a gathering focused on arts, justice, and faith. I went eager to reunite with old friends and to finally translate a few virtual relationships into reality. Oh, I was excited to hear David Wilcox and Jennifer Knapp and learn from respected Christian leaders, but it was the gathering of friends that drew me and my family to the fest. And while it was the community that brought me there, it was the communal experience of commitment that defined my time there. Those lines posted above from Carrie Newcomer’s song “Where You Been,” sum up perfectly the experience that was the Wild Goose Festival.

If anything, Wild Goose was a gathering of those who dream of a better way. A better way to be human, a better way to be the church. Not in a “we want to be better than you” sort of way, but more of a deep felt recognition that the world is not as it should be. It was that wrestling with trying to live into the lives God created us to live that became the conversation at Wild Goose. As part of that, one theme that kept resurfacing in the talks I heard was that of learning to be open to the full range of human emotions and experiences in the world. The typical Christian impulse in our country is to dwell upon the joyful aspects of life and faith. We put on the mask of pretending all is fine to the world. We hold church services oriented around worship, praise, and the uplifting parts of scripture. While there is nothing wrong with doing those things, they don’t allow the faithful to reflect the fullness of reality. As the great civil rights activist Vincent Harding pointed out in his talk, there is pain and suffering in the church. Institutional and social evils such as racism and the inequalities it produces affect the body of Christ – harming both those who commit and who suffer those sins. To pretend that all is well when all is obviously not well is to pretend at joy – not to experience it in reality. As Harding commented, to ever be able to truly laugh, one must also be allowed to honestly weep for all the pain and suffering. Pretending that all is well or to deny that the suffering exists harms our souls, preventing us from being whole healthy people. In his talk Soong-Chan Rah also called for the need to remember the words of lamentations in our churches. The Western church has exorcised such biblical passages of lament from our services, lectionaries, and prayer books, and we would do well to be reminded from the global church (that knows far more about experiencing suffering) that recognizing and lamenting our sins and pain is part of what it means to follow God.

While the church of course has a long way to go in regards to becoming balanced and healthy in such ways, it was encouraging to get a small taste of what that might look like at the Wild Goose Festival. I can’t speak for everyone there, but from the conversations I was a part of it truly did seem to be a gathering of folks who deeply dreamed of a better way. People who desired for our faith to mean something tangible. People, who, as Richard Rohr said there, don’t want to settle for the easy shallow faith of merely worshiping God – putting God on an idealized but distant pedestal to be admired but not known. They want to follow God in ways that transform their lives and therefore the lives of others as well. People who desire to follow God in ways that bring about justice, that seek to restore broken relationships, that always orient around caring about the needs of others. But also people who don’t trust in their own strength to do such things, who know the world and the church are messy, and that we need time for lament and repentance as part of our experience of following Jesus.

It can be easy to talk about such things, and I know I’ve done my fair share of talking before. But what I appreciated about the Wild Goose festival was that it forced us past the point of posturing to a place of transparent honesty. At most of our church gatherings, conferences, or cohorts we can easily erect a façade of self and allow others to see only what we desire them to see of who we are. We can talk grand ideas, look as pious/hip/committed as we desire, and then escape back into our solitary lives without anyone glimpsing our rough edges. But there is something about camping in close proximity in sweltering weather in fields crawling with ants and ticks, where the nearest water is a spigot several fields away, with your communal shit stinking up the port-a-potties and your children sleep-deprived from the excitement of camping and the loud bands that play into the wee small hours of the night that violently rips away any façade one might have attempted to hide behind. Everyone sees you crawling dishelved out of your tent in the morning desperate to concoct a coffee-like-substance over your tiny camp stove. Everyone hears you yelling at your kids to stop (literally) bouncing off the tent walls and go to sleep. And I’m pretty sure half the people there witnessed my tired, hot, and hungry children having a grand royal meltdown in the food area one day at lunch. It was just a few days, but it was real.

So when we came to worship together and share our passion for following God in transforming ways in this raw state of discomfort and exhaustion, it was more than just talk. We were those crazy, holy, hungry ones who believe in something better. It was a glimpse of the Kingdom of God that went far beyond just friends gathering to have fun together at a festival or to posture at caring for others. It was a gathering of the most committed Christians I know – those who long to follow God wholly. And that gave me great hope for the church. I had to laugh when I read after the festival that some opponents were deriding the festival, questioning our faith and referring to the event as Apostate-palooza (because *obviously* anything to do with art, camping, and justice can’t possibly be Christian). Yet I realized that they were right in a way. This was a gathering of apostates of the church as it has become – a often meaningless and impotent entity beholden to civil structures of culture and politics that cares more about power and privilege and shoring up hollow rituals and traditions than it does about loving others and believing in God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. Wild Goose was a gathering of those crazy folks who are committed to a better way. We are apostates of meaningless religion, ready to strip away the facades and get at the real work of following God.

That was my Wild Goose experience – leaving me raw and tired and strangely full of hope.

The conferences invites attendees with the assertion – “You are called out of the chaos of your crazy busy, constantly moving, overextended lives to a place grounded in the imagination of God.” I was asked to lead workshops on everyday justice issues as part of the conference and I appreciate the opportunity because it reflects to me a valuing of the idea that in truth everything is spiritual. I think that truth is something that most of us intellectually affirm, but which often doesn’t get translated into our day to day reality. We so narrowly define what it means to be spiritual that we end up constantly feeling disconnected from God because we can’t sustainably live what we have defined the spiritual life to be.

We all have of course heard of the mountaintop experiences – moments of spiritual connectedness that generally come from times of retreat or focused devotion. I don’t deny that those are spiritual moments, but the reality of life is that we cannot live constantly in those moments. And if we expect all spirituality to mirror the intensity of the mountaintop, we will inevitably be disappointed and feel far from God. We blame ourselves, or our church, or our culture for our distraction and disconnectedness, but perhaps the real problem is our definition of spirituality.

We have come to see spirituality as something set apart from the mundane aspects of everyday life and so become frustrated when our lives seem to get in the way of connecting to God. But God is not found in just the moments of devotion or prayer, or in the communal gathering for liturgy, or in voices lifted up in song. Those are all great tools for helping us concentrate on God, but God is the God over all creation, not just the systems the church has developed. A crazy busy world isn’t the antithesis of spirituality; it is simply a setting where spirituality can be manifest. Grounding ourselves in the imagination of God and redefining spirituality to include all aspects of life is what I think is needed to help us get over our constant struggle of feeling spiritually disconnected.

Embracing spirituality in the whole of life means understanding that even the acts that make our life crazy busy are spiritual acts. Waking up in the morning, making breakfast, and getting the kids off to school are spiritual acts. Rushing from meeting to meeting and facing project deadlines are spiritual acts. We are spiritual people in relationship with a spiritual God; everything we do therefore is a spiritual act. What matters then is if we are living our everyday life in a way that moves us closer to God or further from God. When we choose our clothes, or commute to work, or interact with our kids are we becoming more Christ-like and caring about the things God cares about or not?

Rethinking spirituality as an every moment of the day sort of thing opens us up to having God work in our lives in out of the box sorts of ways and moves us beyond the unsustainable “mountaintop experience” mentality. Embracing that we are always connected to God though is both comforting and infinitely more challenging. Everything being spiritual means we can’t shove God aside to just Sundays, or believe that God doesn’t care about what we eat or how we vote. Everything means everything. Sure, we still need times of reflection, communal worship, and retreat from the ordinary in order to help us refocus, but when every action of every day becomes a choice for God, our spiritual lives will unavoidably be transformed.

So I look forward to this conference where we will explore how to both take the time for rest and reflection as a spiritual practice and how to learn to see the world not as the enemy of spirituality but as instead the very place where our spirituality is developed and lived. It should truly be a time to leave behind the old paradigm of our crazy busy lives (in more ways than one) and discover a sustainable spirituality.

This post is part of a Synchroblog meant to jumpstart the conversation regarding what this “big tent Christianity” looks like. Participants in this synchroblog were asked to reflect on – “what does “big tent Christianity” mean to you? What does it look like in your context? What are your hopes and dreams for the Church?” There are dozens of different ways I can think of to respond to those questions, but what really resonates the most with me is the idea that big tent Christianity holds no place for fear.

In Psalm 23, when David speaks of how God guides, protects, and comforts him, he mentions that God prepares a table for him in the presence of his enemies. This isn’t some twisted comfort through schadenfraude or mockery of others – this is being able to sit at a table with one’s enemies and share a meal in peace. This is an image of what it will be like in the New Heaven and the New Earth when the entire body of Christ sits down at the banquet table of the lamb. Unitarians and Baptists. Catholics and Fundamentalists. Emergents and Neo-reformed. We will all eventually sit next to each other in peace.

I don’t say that to imply that our differences are insignificant or our theologies unimportant, but to affirm that we have no reason to fear the presence of the other. We can exist under this tent together.

But all too often we avoid even listening to the voices of others for fear that they might corrupt us, or (worse) confuse us. We want to hold on so tightly to our little piece of the truth that we demonize everyone else and inoculate ourselves against their influence. So there are college students who are told (usually by their youth pastors) to stay far away from Bible and religion classes in college for fear that all that historical criticism will affect their faith. They fear any knowledge that might force them to change. Or there are the pastors who get fired from their church for having a book by an emergenty author on their shelves. Fear of new ideas creeping in shuts down the pursuit of knowledge or the ability to question. At our old church, we were taken to task for exposing the youth there to different Christian traditions because it might cause them to choose to be something other than Baptist. There was fear of anything but the known. And many fear listening to the voices of postcolonial, or liberation, or feminist theologians for fear these voices of the margins might challenge the way things have always been (as defined by one’s particular western tradition).

Instead of learning from each other and admitting that we all follow our own particular and highly imperfect cobbled-together streams of Christian tradition, we demonize each other out of fear. We make up words like heresy or syncretism to avoid having to actually listen to those around us. We have lost the ability to value what we value and yet still sit and break bread with those with whom we disagree. This Christianity looks like a bunch of small tents scattered across a plain, each trying to keep its distance from the other and to defend its territory at all costs.

So that’s why I love the idea of a big tent Christianity. It represents the place where we can come as we are (with beliefs fully intact yet held humbly) into a place where fear is banished and we can sit in peace with even our so-called enemies at the table of the Lord. It’s where we can be the body of Christ.

So I am spending a few days this week at Urbana 09. I never made it to Urbana when I was in school, so it's fun to finally get to experience this massive event. There are some 16,000 people attending and thinking about doing missions and translating Christ's incarnation into our daily lives. It's overwhelming, and it's been a long time since I've been a part of anything this full of crazy energy, but I'm excited to see what happens. And I'm looking forward to finally getting to hear from people like Ruth Padilla DeBorst and Shane Claiborne.

I will be part of a panel on missional worship in the church, leading two seminars on seeking everyday justice, and doing a booksigning in the bookstore. So if you are here at Urbana, I invite to to stop by and chat!

They also hit the (obvious) nail on the head in trying to explain why this happens.  Basically because the demand is there.  Trafficking isn’t just some evil crime committed by sociopaths, it’s done by corrupt and greed guys who know that there is a high demand for human flesh.  If the businessmen at conferences in Vegas weren’t looking for sex on demand then kidnapping, abusing, raping, and breaking women into submissive prostitutes wouldn’t be such a lucrative business.  But evil and injustice continue to exist because we demand it.  From cheap sex to cheap clothes or candy, we demand that others be oppressed for our benefit.

At one point in the CSI episode, the bad-guy of the week, a Russian pimp (played by the amazing Mark Sheppard), tried to justify why girls supposedly choose to be prostitutes.  He said, "inside, [all women] are whores. They will love to hear the things they want to believe – they are so beautiful, so fascinating, so special that they deserve the best of everything, the finest clothes, champagne, and jewels that money can buy.  And you know how you get the whore to emerge? Tell her there is an easy way to get all of this."  His words were ironic coming after the unfolding story of girls being kidnapped, drugged, raped, beaten, and murdered by traffickers.  Instead of describing the girls, they more accurately described the traffickers and the johns.  But they also describe all of us who have found easy ways to get whatever we want even if it is at the expense of others.  We will sell our souls because we believe we deserve the best of everything.

The sad thing is, there are no CSI’s out there working to put us behind bars so that the oppression stops.  We are not going to be punished for benefiting from crimes like human trafficking and slave labor.  And we wont be rewarded either for choosing to step outside of systems of oppression.  There is no carrot or stick when it comes to making a deliberate choice to love others.  We just have to decide that we care enough for someone else’s daughter or son to stop demanding that they be oppressed so that we can have everything we desire.

In the lead-up to the conference I was part of numerous discussions regarding the need to give the stage so deliberately to a group of women. I get the desire to be at a point in the conversation where women's voices don't have to be highlighted but are just a normal part of things. Or to be at a place of if there is a Christian conference where the main speakers are women people don't assume that it's a women's conference. I'd love that, but we aren't there yet. I think C21 moved us forward in that direction, but women's voices had to be highlighted this time in order for that to happen. And I love that men who typically speak at these sorts of conferences came instead to serve at this one – doing all the behind the scenes stuff that we women often end up doing. Jay Bakker, Shane Claiborne, Spencer Burke, Mark Scandrette, and Gareth Higgins came to serve and help out. And as Doug Pagitt joked, to see the end of their careers as the privileged ones given the microphone at these sorts of events. Bono is right – women are the future and after this conference there can be no excuse for not inviting women to lead sessions at conferences because gifted intelligent women are out there. (and as a total aside the money quote from the weekend came from Shane Claiborne. I was talking to him about how he had "killed" my husband in a game of assassin as Wheaton College and he said "I love Assassin, I have to get my violent tendencies out somehow!" Awesome.)

The conference itself was intense. There was little down-time, little interaction or workshop time, just rapid-fire hearing from the presenters on what they see as important things to consider for faith in the 21st century. Granted, this wasn't back to back lecture after lecture. There were some lectures of course, but there was also the telling of stories, short dramas, spoken-word poetry, musical pieces, times of prayer and reflection, conversations on stage, and a fast-paced group presentation pairing reflections with visual images. And as one of those presenters – let me just say that 21 minutes is a really really short time to try to do anything (especially when it is further broken apart into even shorter segments). Hearing a new idea every 21 (or 7 or 5) minutes is intense. With no time for interaction or question, jumping from one idea to another hardly gives one time to wrap ones mind around any given idea. So I am having a hard time summarizing what any one person talked about. I know Sybil MacBath did her thing about praying in color, Alise Barrymore did an amazing poetic speech about growing down. Seth Donovan pushed us to let people show up at church decompartmentalized from our identities and labels. Phyllis Tickle and Nadia Bolz-Weber chatted about the future of the church. Lauren Winner gave a killer list about what Christianity will be known for by the end of the 21st century. And Debbie Blue talked about roadkill and Jesus having an anus (it was beautiful, seriously). I remember the moments and that it was beautiful. And for all the controversy leading up to the event, this was one of the most Christ-centered, Bible and church affirming gathering I have been a part of in a long time.

As with most emerging conferences, one of the best parts was just being able to connect with people. I loved meeting friends from the Emerging Women blog and sitting down for drinks with someone I used to argue with all the time at The Ooze some seven years ago. I loved hearing people's stories and what brought them to the conversation. I even got to spend the plane ride home continuing the conversation with new friends. I was blessed to learn from the Queermergent folks (and I totally apologize again for ditching so early, I was so falling asleep on the couch…). I enjoyed making new friends and getting to reconnect with old members of my tribe.

And I'm sure my rambling here makes sense only in my head, but I just need to get my thoughts out (as discombobulated as they are). But I do know that something significant happened this past weekend. And I was blessed to be a part of it.

Other people who are sharing about the experience -

Christina Whitehouse-Suggs on Drunk on the Wine of New Love

Danielle Shoyer gives a recap

Imago's blog's reflections

Tony Jones looks back at the event.

Seth Donovan talks about starting in a new place.

Pam Heatley compared C21 to a tropical vacation

Shula at Sensuous Wife blogs her reaction to the event.

Don Heatley has created an amazing highlight video from the event that really helps capture some of the themes that emerged there.

For more fantastic pictures from the event, visit Courtney Perry's Christianity 21 photostream (the pictures here are hers, excepting the panorama which is Jake Bouma's )

and if you want to witness for yourself the amazing live sketching Paul Soupiset did at the event, watch them here, here, here and here

Oh, and I'm super excited about the new publishing house, Sparkhouse, which launched recently. They created a video at C21 about sparking new life into faith communities, it's pretty neat (I'm the space-y one in it).

But besides that I am also excited about my fellow presenters. I've heard some of these women like Nanette Sawyer, Phyllis Tickle and Alise Barrymorre speak before and think they are amazing. I've had chances to hang out with Nadia Bolz-Weber, Makeesha Fisher, Danielle Shoyer, Lisa Domke and Kelly Bean and can't wait to hear what they have to say. And then there are all the other presenters who I am just excited for the chance to finally meet. I just feel blessed to be able to be there amidst a gathering of so much wisdom.

But most of all I am excited that this wisdom is finally getting the respect it deserves. That these women who have so much to teach us all are the voice of this event. This isn't a women's event, it is a Christian event that explores the future of our faith and I find it significant that it is women who are the ones leading that particular discussion. These are voices who have powerful things to say about the future of Christianity, and I hope people take advantage of this opportunity to hear from them.

Anyway, all that to say, I'm really getting excited about Christianity21 and I hope you all will come join the conversation there. If you want more information, head to the event website christianity21.com. Hope to see you there!

Christianity 21: Faith in the 21st Century
21 Voices
21 Ideas
21 Minutes Each

We live in a time of epochal change.

Many find this change exciting; for others, it’s a challenge. Call it globalization, pluralization, or postmodernism, this change affects our economy, politics, government, and education—all of society. And, of course, our faith and our churches are not immune to change.

So we have gathered 21 of the most important voices for the future of Christianity—21 voices for the 21st century—to speak into our future as people of faith in this age. They represent a diverse array of backgrounds, interests, and passions, and they will provide a wide range of innovative and challenging presentations.

Christianity21 is less a conference and more a happening, an event—a gathering of voices and ideas that will shape the future of our faith. And to the 21 voices, we want you to add your voice, whether you’re a seeker or skeptic, leader or layperson, disciple or doubter.

We hope you consider joining your voice to ours at Christianity21.

Friday, October 9 – Sunday, October 11
Colonial Church of Edina
6200 Colonial Way
Minneapolis, MN 55436
$195

I am really excited about this event. I'll can't wait to hear from these presenters, and I get to join them as I will be speaking on "seeking justice in the everyday" I think this will be a gathering where we can really dig deep and explore where faith is headed in the 21st century. We can't ignore that changes are happening around us, and I appreciate the opportunity to think out loud with others about what this all means. So stick it on your calenders and plan on join us in October!

We are being encouraged instead to seek out local events or to put them on ourselves as alternatives to the Gathering. On one hard this is a great idea. Finding others in one's area to meet with and provide encouragement to through things like cohorts is a wonderful thing. And having put on a few local emerging conferences, I know the value of those events as well. Those are times for like-minded people bound by geography to find each other. I've had fun at these events and have been blessed by the people I encounter there. Sometimes these things develop into ongoing community, sometimes they don't. As we've discovered with the Chicago cohort, we have an email list of over 300 contacts, but rarely see more than a dozen at any given gathering. Often people show up once or twice, attend the big events with the big name speakers, ask to be part of the network, affirm that they aren't crazy for asking these questions, and then never plug into community. It meets a need, often a very vital need in their faith journey, but lacks a certain something for those of us committed to the emergent community for the long haul.

While I have met some wonderful people though the local events, cohorts, and conferences, I still find that most of my emerging interactions occur online. My community is scattered across the states (and the world). There are members of this community who I have only met at the big trans-regional events like the Gathering. So while I still love the idea of and will continue to help organize regional events (yes I am think of a Texas Emerging Women gathering soon), I'm going to miss the opportunity to connect with the larger emergent family. And while the idea of a National EV Conference is appealing, I doubt it will be as open-source, fun, and inexpensive as the Gathering. I doubt we will see whole families there or have the chance to cook meals together. So I'm going to miss the family reunion/pilgrimage that was the Gathering. And I'm curious how it's absence will affect the nature of the conversation – will it truly spark more grass-roots conversations or will everything just default towards more and more structure? In other words, how can the spirit of the Gathering be maintained without the Gathering itself actually existing?

Tags: Emergent, Emerging Church, Glorietta Gathering

A few random highlights from the week for me -

• - Like I mentioned before, attending a discussion of holistic emerging parenting. I am drawn to alternative parenting ideas and generally don't hold to the typical American style of parenting, but I've had a very hard time finding people to discuss those ideas with, much less learn from their experiences. The few I've found have not been involved in Christianity. So I've longed for other Christians to talk to who share my emerging journey and are exploring more holistic parenting ideas. Ideas that wrestle with spiritual formation of children outside of the assumed model of Sunday School or AWANA. Parents that see their children as people to be respected instead of pawns to be controlled. Parents who don't hit or scream at their children on principle (and definitely don't justify such things with the Bible). It was very refreshing to be in a group that cared about such things (men and women equally btw). We only had a short time at the Gathering to discuss such ideas, but I am in the process of creating an Emerging Parents blog to help continue that discussion.



• - Hosting an Emerging women lunch where we got to hear each other's stories. Women are coming to this emerging discussion from such a wide variety of backgrounds and it is helpful to hear about those journeys. We heard the stories of pain, of questioning, of anger, and of hope. As always those discussions developed into longer conversations about the whole "women in Emergent" issue. I'll post more about those over at the Emerging Women blog later this week.
• - Being involved in discussions about the future of Emergent Village and the role it will play. Will it be a place for newcomers to come with their pain and questions to work through new ideas or will it be pushing forward in developing practice and theology in our postmodern world? Mike has blogged about this issue here.
• - Finally figuring out who/what The Cobalt Season is and realizing that their music is amazing (go buy their CD's right now). And it was also amusing to discover the um, interesting, relationship Ryan Sharp has to my brother…



• - Taking Emma into Santa Fe and trying to teach her how to walk the labyrinth at the Cathedral. She made it through one circuit and the said "I just run," and ran to the middle. There's got to be some spiritual analogy in there somewhere…
• - Hanging out with friends new and old. Finally meeting some online faces. And knowing that yes, there are people in this whole emerging community that I really can connect with and wishing we weren't scattered across the country.
• - New Mexican food. Enough said.

And if you want to see some really good pictures from the Gathering click here.