Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts

Thursday, 22 October 2015

Why Greenbelt is important.

As many of you know, I have been going to Greenbelt for the last few years, and I am passionate about the festival. I want to explore here why that is - something that has been brought to focus in the last year with the major financial problems the organisation has had.

The first reason for my support of it is that it is unique. There are, of course, other events around the country like Spring Harvest and New Wine, as well as Soul Survivor. I do not have a problem with any of these, and did go to Spring Harvest for many many years, which is where my experience of these events comes from. There is a reason that these events are quite different from Greenbelt.

Spring Harvest is not a festival, but a conference. The difference - at least when I was attending - was that a conference is very structured, with sessions that are clearly timed, meaning that there are clear breaks for mealtimes. In the professional world, these are crucial times for talking to others, chatting, sharing ideas across sub-groups. A conference is very structured, both time-wise and (often) content-wise. When I went, the mornings were a structured set of talks, each group supposedly coving a similar set of ideas, in different ways or from different perspectives.

More significantly, the evenings were big, all-together events - it was only the later years that an alternative evening celebration developed. Even then, the celebrations had the same themes. I should clarify that the big celebration were fantastic - I loved them, because they were proper celebrations on a large scale. They were times when I felt a member of a big group, a part of something larger than me and mine.


But Greenbelt is different. The form and structure is different, but - more crucially - the purpose is different. It is not a conference, it is a festival. It is not as regimented - there is all sorts of things going on at different times. It is quite possible for two people to attend and experience completely different festivals. It is quite possible to attend different talks and get opposing or irreconcilable arguments. It is possible to go only for the music, or only for the talks, or only for the Tiny Tea Tent. The only "communal" aspect is the Sunday Morning Communion, and that is, like everything else, optional.

But it is the purpose that is so crucially different. The purpose of the conferences - Christian or work-style - is to impart information, teach the latest idea. The big draws are often well-known writers and speakers, this is a chance for them to tell people about their latest ideas (and sell more books).

Greenbelt is different. Well, not entirely - for many of those performing, they are there to sell their merchandise. They are doing the rounds, although the rounds are more likely to be the festivals than the conferences. Greenbelt is there to give people a chance to explore, engage, discuss. Greenbelt is a place where someone can say anything they want. But more importantly, anyone can answer, challenge, debate and argue. You can claim that black is white, and you will find someone to agree with you and someone to disagree. But there is a good chance that you will find these people are prepared to listen as well as argue.

I think most importantly, the theological position of Greenbelt is different. The conference circuit is on the Conservative Evangelical part of the theological spectrum, whereas Greenbelt is much wider. In its early days, most of the music came from the Evangelical Christian music culture (and the attendees too). While this has changed, this early focus on the arts has remained. It is the only place where the Christian faith and the arts collide in this way, where Christians can have their ideas and understanding challenged by the insights from the arts. It is also a place where those who do not sign up to the Christian faith can explore spiritually with no pressure. Or, of course, just get to experience some great performances.

This is why Greenbelt is important. The target audience - in terms of what it does, not necessarily the organisation's definition - are those people who are spiritually on the edge. Those who are on the edge of church and churches, for whom the standard route and approach is not one that works. It is for people who want to explore spiritual truth, not be told what they should believe if they want to join in. It is for people who want to understand what faith means when people disagree.

It is also for those who would explore faith and spirituality that is not book- or word-centred. Given that Jesus never wrote a book (he may well have been illiterate), and that so much of the biblical teaching is done visually (although it is reported to us in words, because smartphones hadn't been invented then), this is a vital aspect of Christian faith.

It is for those of us for whom living faith is about constant exploration, not formulaic expressions. It is for people who like discussions where their view is changed, and they come away with new insights - not necessarily agreement with others, but a greater understanding of their position. It is for people who can say "I'm sorry" and "I am wrong. Thank you."

For me, and I know for many others, church does not provide what I need any more. For me, Greenbelt gives me a message that I can still be a Christian, despite all of my doubts, anger, illness and failure. It tells me that I don't have to conform to any particular system or hierarchy to be a Christian. It tells me that I don't have it right, but that I don't have it all wrong either.

So if you have never been, can I encourage you to consider it, and give it a try. And support it, even if it doesn't work for you, because it is a crucial part of the spiritual life of this country.

Friday, 12 December 2014

What I believe but cannot prove

I am currently reading a book from the site Edge, asking this question. So I thought it would be an interesting question to answer - what do I believe but cannot prove?

The thing I believe but cannot prove is that there exists a spiritual realm, that there exists reality that is not subject to empirical validation or testing. This is not only something that I cannot prove, but it is unproveable, in terms of scientific or empirical proof. In particular, the empiricist requirement that events are repeatable - I believe that there are events that are one-offs, that are not repeatable whatever you do.

I have deliberately not said "I believe there is a God" - actually, that is a development of the belief that there is a spiritual realm, and one that I would support, but that is an argument you can only start to make if you accept the assumption that there is a spiritual realm of reality, and that this is "real" just as much as the more physical world around us. I will be doing a post later exploring the meaning of reality, because even that is not as solid or defined as we might like or assume.

There are two things that this belief is not doing. Firstly, it is not a rejection of the scientific basis for understanding the reality around us. Trees do not grow because of "mystical spiritual power" - they grow because of reasonably well understood biological processes, because of scientific principles. All I am saying is that the empirical, scientific reality is not all. Of course, this cannot be "proved" in any sense, especially not to someone who starts from the requirement of empirical definition. In fact it is also a matter of belief that is unproveable that the empirical reality is all there is. If that is your belief, and you only accept proof within that context, than I cannot "prove" to you that this is wrong.

Secondly, it is not saying that the spiritual "has to be", to account for things that are not yet explained. I am not arguing for a "God of the Gaps" belief system, because that is a very dangerous and mistaken approach to take. The spiritual reality is not a necessity, which doesn't mean that it isn't real. What it means is that however much scientific advances progress, it will not be squeezed out, because they are not occupying the same ontological space.

What it is doing is saying that science is wonderful, awesome and amazing at helping us to understand the world around us. It can tell me how a tree grows, how and why it progresses through the seasons, it can even go some way towards explaining why I get an emotional response seeing it in various states and stages - and why I can appropriately mourn when it dies. It can explain all of that. And yet, there is still more. There is something in the wonder of a tree, of life, of existence, of reality that is way beyond the scientific empirical definition. There is a spiritual reality in parallel.

So I believe at least.

Sunday, 26 October 2014

My spirituality doesn't fit

It frustrates me, sometimes, that there seems to be forms of spirituality that are considered "acceptable". In particular, the forms that involve being quiet or silent, often in the countryside - or at least, separated from the business of life outside. It is a monastic sort of spirituality.

I should point out that I fully accept that for many people, this is a way in which they can engage with God, grow and develop themselves spiritually. I have no argument that, for some people, this is really empowering and nurturing. I really hope that they find the places that enable them to commune with God.

Its just that I find such times drive me to distraction. I was on a silent retreat as I was training to be a reader, and I find it did my head in - I had to find the places to talk, to read, to engage with others to help me absorb the material we were being led in.

"Ah you are a classic extrovert then!" Well, actually, no. When I did MBTI tests, I normally came out as Introvert, although I was very close to the middle on most indicators, including the I/E one*. In fact, I do appreciate times alone, without other people around me. In no way would anyone who knows me call me a "classic Extrovert" - I have met @changingworship, and there is a classic extrovert.

I did, for a while, find real strength in times of meditation that were not "silent" but were "wordless" - I deliberately eliminated all words from my environment, and would quietly meditate - eventually driving the words out on my mind too. It was very powerful (and worth a try, if you struggle with silence), but not silent. The sounds around me were part of the meditation, and there was nothing to stop me coughing or drumming my fingers. There was something to stop me reading a paper, which I have known someone to do on a silent retreat. And yes, it helped. It is remarkably hard to avoid words, but also very helpful - and can give us an insight into what it must be like if you cannot read.

But for me, I don't find God in this escapism - which it is, but not meant in a completely dismissive way - I find God in other people, in the hustle and bustle of life. In fact, at the time I did the silent retreat, I was far happier to return to work in The City (London), where I found it much easier to experience and engage with God. In fact, I did get angry, because, I argued, if I cannot find God in daily life - if I have to escape to the country to find God - what is the point? I cannot often escape away, but I need a God who is there and present in my working day, wherever that is. I need a God I can recognise in a city street, not just in a country retreat. I need a God I can recognise and engage with watching television, not just being silent and "spiritual".

So my spirituality does not fit in. I have had a sense from the church that if I want to be "properly spiritual", then I need to meet God in silence. I have also had a sense from other churches that to be properly spiritual, I need to meet with God at New Wine - an evangelical version of the monastic retreat.

These days, it bothers me less that I don't fit. As I am writing this, I am listening to Opeth - a death-metal-turned-prog-rock band. For me, that is part of how I engage with God, how I enable my f*cked up self to reach with the ultimate perfection of the numinous, how I am able to see that God is so much more involved in everything that I can imagine.

Somewhere in that, the fact that I - exactly as I am, messed up, broken and dying - can touch the divine blows my mind.


* In case you are interested, INFJ. I am borderline on I,F and J, and totally and completely off the scale on N.

Thursday, 10 July 2014

Labyrinths

I have a new t-shirt. I don't always post when I get a new t-shirt, but this is a labyrinth t-shirt (with a Chartres-style labyrinth on the front), and it makes me think.


The picture is a plan of the labyrinth from Chartres (not from my t-shirt). Actually, my shirt version is a little simpler, but has the same principles. The labyrinth is, I think, an important picture of a search for truth.




If we imagine that the truth that we are searching for is in the centre, as we trace through, we very quickly arrive very close to the centre. It strikes me that some people get this close, and assume that they have the truth they are searching for - a short and easy trip, and it is there. And yet the truth is actually a long way from there, a whole lot more traveling and searching until you actually get to the centre.

The next thing is that the trip takes you back very close to where you started. The journey to truth will often bring you back to almost your starting point, but not quite. It would be a mistake to assume that just because you are nearly back at the start, you have made no progress, because shortly after this, you do arrive in the centre.

But then what do you do? When you have traveled and searched and found the truth that you were after? Well the only thing to then do is to turn around and go back. In the end, you do return to where you started, you do find yourself back precisely where you were before you went searching.

The difference is that now you have traced the labyrinth. That has changed you.