The Sacred in the Space: Reflections on Worship at Wild Goose

This post was written by Jonathan Perrodin.

Usually when we speak of worship, we think of the Sunday morning gathering, especially the time of singing. During the weekend of Wild Goose the only event that would have closely resembled that narrow understanding would have been Nadia Bolz-Weber’s Bluegrass Liturgy or possibly the late night Roadshow Revival. Fortunately, worship at the Wild Goose Festival wasn’t confined to this limited understanding.

What did worship look like at Wild Goose?

It was…
… relational
… dialogue
… smiles & hugs
… laughter
… conversations
… open ears, and
… children playing

Worship occurred in a multitude of instances. It happened while listening to Kester Brewin share a poem on quantum physics & theology. It occurred when Jay Bakker was nearly moved to tears as he spoke about his love for his LGBT friends. It happened in our conversations. It took place over and again as we reacquainted with old friends and new throughout the weekend.

Worship happened when I carried a sign that read “GODISNOWHERE” and talked to folks about the VOID Collective’s event that night. Through the process of explaining the sign I met many wonderful people. There was a certain sacredness to conversations throughout the festival. In Levinasian terms, we were able to see the face of God through the eyes of the ‘other.’

There were many very different spaces spread over festival ground. Each space was wildly unique in both form and function. I want to reflect upon the effects the space’s form had upon the space’s function. There were certain places and times that I experienced as particularly more sacred and worshipful than others.

Stories can be deeply worshipful.

My favorite spot over the weekend became the Coffee Barn. Something about the beautiful building next to the large tree with the assorted wooden chairs, benches, and stumps made for a very welcoming space. Add to that the intimacy of being able to sit at the same level as the speaker, with no stage separating acting as a division, and you had a space which felt natural, uncontrived, and spontaneous.

This space lent itself to storytelling and personal remarks. Nadia Bolz-Weber’s talk on Sunday morning was deeply moving. She shared her story of becoming a Lutheran minister. This wasn’t the kind of contrived awkward testimony that can often happen in the church; it was rather like sitting in your backyard catching up with an old friend over coffee.

Discussion can be deeply worshipful.

Saturday afternoon there was a panel discussion on the topic of sexuality and justice at the Coffee Barn. The panelists all knew each other well, continually joking and laughing with each other. This environment drew everyone into the conversation and allowed us all to lay any hardened attitudes to the side. Through personal stories and reflections there was a deep expression of love throughout the space. Despite the difficult topic it seemed we all left the time feeling uplifted and encouraged.

Music can be deeply worshipful.

The Main Stage was probably my least favorite spot this weekend. In many ways it was the polar opposite of the Coffee Barn. This stage was a contrast to all the other spaces. It was a much larger space lacking shade making it rather inhospitable during the day. This caused people to hide under trees far from the stage, losing the possibility for intimacy and closeness with others or the performers. The stage flanked by vast speaker stacks further divided audience from performer.

I enjoyed many wonderful performances by many talented folks, furthermore all the performers I saw were all very intentional in trying to connect with the crowd, despite the difficulties. For me it was David Bazan who through his certain humble stage presence transformed the space into the intimacy of a house show. His heartfelt lyrics and beautifully moving voice drew us all into another realm.

Our Love can be deeply worshipful.

In many ways Wild Goose looked like any other festival. It had music, speakers, booths, food vendors, and plenty of port-a-potties. But there was something that kept it distinctive: the unity of the people. As Jesus said it will be by our love for one another that they will know we are his disciples.

Wild Goose was a time of celebration

We heard the good news,
a better news than many had grown up with,
and we were grateful.

and in this we worshipped.

© Jonathan Perrodin


Jonathan Perrodin is Curator of Worship Arts at Vintage Fellowship. He created Vintage Vespers an experiment in art, worship and transformation that hosts monthly events. He along with his wife and two children live in Fayetteville, Arkansas.

Track Jonathan online via twitter @perrodin and his blog hiddenbehindnothing.

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Someone Saw

Some of the activities seen at the Wild Goose Festival 2011.

Singing and storytelling:
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Making art:
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Frisbee fun:
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Hanging out at the tall orange flag, the tall orange flag, the tall orange flag:
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Hymn sing at the beer tent (Have we mentioned how hot it was?):
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Making a sign for Chili and Chat:
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Not a hot item:
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Another popular hangout:
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A little deconstructionism:
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A goat separated from the sheep:
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The Chase-Dance

The creative process is not for the faint of heart. At the beginning, it seems you’re in control–your mind and hands run the show.  But soon, a tiny, tentative playfulness begins between your heart and your medium (whether it be language, musical notes or strokes on a page) and before long you’re swept up in a dance which seems at the same time yours and yet entirely outside of your control. You swear you never heard this song or learned these moves and yet, here you are, stomping and humming a song from heaven. It may not be perfect but it sure feels right.

This kind of inspiration which refuses to be confined has been likened to a Wild Goose. Like in this beautiful, Josh Ritter song which ends with the question,

Oh what kind of law draws the apples to the ground?
And what kind of love draws the orbits?
And where, oh where, went your wild goose?
And what made you once think you could hold it?

Anyone who has been caught up in a creative moment is familiar with this breathless chase-dance. And anyone who knows that dance and who also has been swept up in the dance with our God, recognizes some common steps. And so it’s only natural that His Holy Spirit has also been called a Wild Goose. So, whether you’re planning a Holy-Spirit themed worship experience or just want to know more about this “Goose God” everyone is talking about, here are a few wild-goose inspired words, sights and sounds to spark your imagination. Is that the beating of wings or the beginnings of a rhythm? Will you dance along? Where will the Goose lead you?

“I have seen the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven.” John 1:32

Enjoy Wild-Goose inspired art.

Read Wild-Goose Wisdom
The Celtic Christians had a name for the Holy Spirit that has always intrigued me. They called Him An Geadh-Glas, or ‘the Wild Goose.’ I love the imagery and implications. The name hints at the mysterious nature of the Holy Spirit. Much like a wild goose the Spirit of God cannot be tracked or tamed.
Mark Batterson, “Wild Goose Chase”

Find the hidden Geese on the pages of the Lindisfarne Gospels.

Pray a Wild-Goose prayer
Great Spirit,
Wild Goose of the Almighty
Be my eye in the dark places
Be my flight in the trapped places
Be my host in the wild places
Be my formation in the lost places.
Be my brood in the barren places.
Ray Simpson, “A Holy Island Prayer Book”

Listen to a haunting Wild-Goose song, by Iona.

See geese in flight from the movie, Winged Migration.

Our Wild-Goose God is out of our hands. The best way to learn his ways is by letting him surprise and stretch us. Are we open-hearted enough to join the chase?

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Tony Jones, Prayer, and Being Evangelical @ The Goose

I’m an Evangelical. There. The cat’s out of the bag. Grant you, I feel the need to point out that I’m a “E”vangelical, not an “e”vangelical. I use the word to give one of those labels that make us more comfortable because it aligns us with a particular tribe, a common-unity and makes us at least a bit understandable. You are there and I am here. In this case, it defines my creed and statement of belief but not my culture so much, in case you hadn’t already figured that out. You’re a smart bunch.

This last weekend, I took my little Evangelical self to the Wild Goose Festival in Shakori Hills, North Carolina. Wild Goose… a festival to celebrate art, justice, music and spirituality. Talk about a diverse tribe. One of the most beautiful things about Wild Goose: the demographic spanned every possible life stage and age bracket without any crazy skew towards one group. The grounds were animated by just as many laughing, dirty-faced children and silver heads with wise-lined faces as there were inked up thirty-somethings or youngish hipsters with little square glasses and cowboy shirts. In my mind, that in and of itself is a statement. Hey, there’s something stirring, something afoot, something curious and mysterious at work in the Church.

Nonetheless, my tribe seemed to be in the minority at ye ol’ Wild Goose. This became most evident when I headed over to the geodesic dome for a conversation with my friend and one of my favorite writers-thinkers, Dr. Tony Jones. (I’m throwing the Dr. part in just in case Tony reads this. GOD knows, he earned it and I make fun of him enough to off-set it anyway.) The Geodesic Dome, aside from just being a pretty fantastic physical space, was a forum where a thinker or “expert” would come in and present a question to which they do not have an answer. And then we dialogue. Tony’s question: Why Pray?

My first reaction: Excitement. These topics weren’t overwhelming the line-up at Wild Goose. We were talking about something that had to do – very concretely – with spiritual formation. With Christian tradition and discipline. With something that, honestly, I was curious to know how the other Emergents (yes to Phyllis Tickle, no to Mark Driscoll) would handle it. I’ll let you in on a secret: I sometimes entertain this idea that maybe hip Emergents don’t pray, read the Bible, engage in The Hours or the disciplines because they’re so in tune with the GOD-at-Present that they believe these things to be trite, unenlightened, maybe even a bit superstitious. Here was a chance to hear a group of diverse but unified people converse on this topic.

Heading into the conversation, Tony took about ten minutes to set it up, to lay out his process and thoughts to this point. And then he threw the ball to the group: so if it’s not x or y or z, then we do we pray? The conversation turned existential very, very quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a girl who’s always good for a good turn around the philosophical dance floor; but Tony’s question was an apologetic one, as he kept reminding the group. “What makes prayer a uniquely Christian practice?” Apparently, this was not a concern for the bulk of us gathered since some of the most common responses were “Why does it need to be?”

It was an odd place to be — standing between the enharmonic of why prayer doesn’t seem to matter and the importance of why it should. It’s not making the world a better place in any visibly monumental ways. It’s not theologically inclined to the notion that it forms us into the image of Christ. So, um…

But the other odd place here in this dome was the space created where the teacher was decidedly and purposefully standing in as the student. While Dr. Jones was still present, tossing out the grand process of his thought around this topic and even grander ideologies, every sentence ended with a vibe of “don’t you think?” or “could it be?”

There were a few comments Tony made that flew at me in 3-D given the audience and the context. The first was this: “There’s lots of things [Jesus] didn’t talk about that we have opinions on, but he did talk about prayer… and he did [pray].” Here we were – sitting in the middle of a phenomenal landscape with a radical group of spiritual people, really seeking out the Divine imagination around issues like creation care and sexuality and being ready to carry those flags in the name of Christ (and for that I say, thanks be to GOD) but in that one statement, I felt like Tony captured my fear and struggle with my own faith and with the context in which I must work that faith out.

I don’t fit in with my old tribe, the “e”vangelicals. And I sometimes fear that we progressives and creatives are just creating a new subculture of Christianity – just a little more hip, cynical, and edgy. We have our celebrities, our music, our group think. Wild Goose made me think about it – with her beautiful fluidity of engagement smattered with the occasional moment of spiritual consumerism. It was a vibe definitely not geared to those of a less wide-open persuasion. The dialogue that Tony facilitated intrigued me for that very reason but his summation moved me to a deep inner recognition that seemed to buzz through the whole dome, regardless of ones tradition or cultural persuasion:

I pray to be obedient because Jesus says to pray. This is my prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me a sinner.

Yes. Exhale.

I’ll be honest with you – some days, that’s the reason I worship too. Because Jesus did it. Not because I get it or I’m more enlightened or in touch or spiritually eager. (Sorry, red wine just came out my nose on that one.) I don’t have all the answers and sometimes I feel like this is our own little geodesic dome right here with me throwing out a question and hoping the dialogue will give me something to move forward again. It’s not always popular and certainly not seemingly enlightened to show up at church Sunday after Sunday with the kids in tow and no great argument for why we need to be there, or at least not a good Christian apologetic.

Wild Goose was an extraordinary community experience that I hope you will consider attending next year. In the meantime, I lift you all up in my prayers – some of you by name, some of you by proxy – all of you in spirit.

Image © iStockphoto

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The View from Your Pew

Date: June 26, 2011

Time: 11:21 a.m.

Location: Shakori Hills Farm, Pittsboro, North Carolina, USA

Event: The Wild Goose Festival

Caption: The “Sacred Space” worship for Friday evening was curated by Lilly Lewin, Martin Poole and friends. As part of the gathering, people were asked to take a ball of yarn, wrap it around their wrist and hand (or throw) it to another person. As they passed the yarn, people were invited to share ‘some of your story.’ By the end, everyone was woven together in a web of interconnectedness. After singing a song of unity, people were invited to break the yarn into three pieces and weave it into a personal bracelet to wear as a prayer reminder. At the end of the time, everyone was asked to pick up the remaining yarn balls and toss them up into the tree near the worship space. For the next two days, this tree – with its unity yarn rainbow – was a focus of prayer for everyone at the festival. It was also a reminder of the way we are united with God and each other, in Jesus, through the Holy ‘Goose.’

Image © Eric Herron


Send us the view from YOUR pew. We’re looking for images of your community at worship. Some more examples here. Submit yours here.

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