“(I)s the Christian view of the world to be optimistic or pessimistic? If it is essentially evil, then creation is to be beaten into submission to the will of God. If it is good, then it is to be worked with and honoured as something sacramental, in which we can see the hand of the one who created it. If a pessimistic view is taken, then the church is an ark into which to drag as many souls as possible so that they may be saved from the final bonfire. If the view taken is optimistic, then the church prays that God’s Kingdom ‘may come on earth as it is in heaven’, and co-operates with nature.” (emphasis added)
—John Finney, in “Recovering The Past – Celtic and Roman Mission.”
It is interesting to me that, though Jesus taught us to pray the Kingdom of God would come, he didn’t explain what that is supposed to look like so that we would recognize it when we see it, or so that we could pray specifically about what exactly should come. This does not sit well with many evangelicals who have mistakenly been taught that 1 Peter 3:15 means that we need to know all the answers – and many Christians act as if they do. In fact, I remember reading a survey asking people what they find most objectionable about Christians. One of the top answers was that Christians tend to be know-it-alls. That would certainly be one of my answers – yes, I find many of my own tribe annoying – and I’ve been guilty of it myself. The evangelical answer to the question of what Jesus meant when he told us to pray “thy kingdom come” is that we should pray for the “second coming”. This is rooted in the evangelical mentality that we need to “get saved”, and get others saved, so that we can, as N.T. Wright puts it, “go to heaven when we die”, as if there’s nothing more going on in between. This mindset misses the point of our creation, our calling as Sons and Daughters, redemption (See Romans 8:20-22), and the whole will and the purposes of God. I look forward to the return of Jesus, but I’m convinced that’s not what he meant when he taught us to pray, “Thy Kingdom come.”
There is lots and lots of mystery about God, and about His Kingdom. How could it be otherwise? He is Eternal, and we are less than a speck in a vast universe, itself fully holdable and observable by an omnipresent Creator of All Things. And yet, to some, mystery is uncomfortable. I wrote in my last blog about finding the Imago Dei in all things. One example of the Imago Dei that I see in post-modernism as a world view is the childlike delight many of the “spiritual-not-religious” express toward Mystery. In that, they have some fellowship with their Creator, even if they couldn’t say it that way. They are, I think, many steps ahead of believers who chafe against that same Mystery, and who see nothing redeemable about post-modernism (Side note: Just as a world view such as post-modernism is not all bad, so our current expression of Christianity’s not the best one possible. We are living in a post-Christian age. Rather than bemoan that fact, we ought to rejoice in it and see it as an opportunity to re-examine ourselves and our Christian praxis).
So what are we to know about the Kingdom of God? The subject is bigger than the universe, in fact, it is infinite. But I can give a simple illustration with a typical encounter from my ministry; A woman, not a Jesus follower, comes into the ministry tent, and we find she is being held back from growing spiritually by resentment against her mother. She is not willing to forgive her. Through addressing other, peripheral wounded places in her soul, she finally completely forgives her mother. A piece of the Kingdom has come into her life.
Upon hearing a story like this (I, and others like me, have hundreds of them), a regular church goer will likely ask, “But did you get them to accept Christ?”, only without question intonation – it is meant more as a statement than a question.
In his book, “The Celtic Way Of Evangelism”, George G. Hunter III points out the difference between evangelization by the Roman bishops, and that of the Celtic saints. The Romans considered the Barbarians, which included the Celts, to be “unreachable”; when they did attempt to evangelize them, their efforts involved first getting them “civilized” enough to receive the Gospel. The Celtic saints were very different. Many of them were indigenous with the Celts, or at least had lived among them, as St. Patrick did. Their usual method was to build a monastery in the midst of their neighbors, then simply interact naturally with them. They served them in whatever ways they could. Eventually, their neighbors would find the monks’ way of life to be worthwhile and would become Jesus followers themselves. Sometimes it took a long time, but the Celts were eventually successful in bringing all of Great Britain – Celts, Angles, Saxons, Picts, Jutes, and Britons -to faith in Christ. They had an impact on the mainland as well, apparently all the way to Asia Minor. The Romans, on the other hand, did what is normally recognized as evangelizing to this day – they preached at them, and/or tried to change their culture, which has been a common and regrettable mistake in missions throughout Christian history. They were not nearly as successful, at least not initially, among the “Barbarians”. Also, the Celtic saints really didn’t have much doctrine or have much use for it. Doctrine may be important but you can’t indoctrinate people into faith. In contrast to the Romans, the Celts were a poetic, emotional, passionate people. As pagans, they loved, and probably worshipped, the natural world. Once they became Christians, they continued to place a high value on nature and in their poetry, recognized the hand of their Creator in the creation. Wisely, the saints realized there wasn’t necessarily anything to be gained by scrubbing clean everything about the existing culture.
Although it’s hard to know exactly the methodology used by the Celtic evangelists, since they resisted writing, it appears that the methods used today by what John Finney calls “the new evangelists”, which include myself and my fellows, resembles that used by them. We like to go to festivals, especially “transformational festivals”. Hunter refers to our post modern culture as turning toward “neo-barbarism”. I confess I rather like that, and I identify as such without abandoning civility completely, I hope. So I’m a natural fit at these festivals. We set up our camp among the others. Our mentality is not that we are the Christians come to “save” the heathen. It is that we are festival people, indigenous with that culture, and as Jesus followers, we are there to serve our neighbors. We hope we can bring something of the Kingdom into the lives of individuals and into the micro-community we find ourselves in as well, and we invariably do so. We hope that our neighbors will see something in us that they want and that they will be influenced by us. We in turn allow ourselves to be influenced by them, by recognizing the Imago Dei that they necessarily possess, and which, maybe, we lack. But if and when any of them ever choose to “convert”, which we are prepared to walk them through, that will be 100% their choice. That is what Honor looks like. God himself honors our choices; free will is, I believe, God’s greatest gift to us, because without that, neither love nor grace is possible. Why would we treat anyone any differently?
“(I)s the Christian view of the world to be optimistic or pessimistic? If it is essentially evil, then creation is to be beaten into submission to the will of God. If it is good, then it is to be worked with and honoured as something sacramental, in which we can see the hand of the one who created it.”
—John Finney, in “Recovering The Past – Celtic and Roman Mission.”
I came to faith in Jesus in 1979 at age twenty four. My spiritual journey from that point was rooted in evangelicalism, first in a baptist church, but the first church I was really involved in was much more Charismatic. I was placed in a leadership role, which is to say the pastor attempted to remake me in his own image. He was Calvinist, and trained me in that way. So, like most evangelicals, I developed a strong sin consciousness. My radar was tuned to immediately pick up not only sin, but that even more dastardly enemy, heresy.
Many, many years I continued in that state, until I came across a monthly newsletter that a friend of mine subscribed to (newsletters still came in the mail in those days) which was filled with four pages of various heresies du jour. I devoured that newsletter and subscribed to it myself.
After several months, I began to get uneasy. All this ministry did was sniff out what they considered to be heresies. Besides the fact that some of the beliefs or practices they found heretical I found to be biblical, I began to wonder; in the day we all stand before God, will this fault finding be accounted to them as good fruit?
It’s strange to me now to think that it took me so long to see the parallel between such a mindset and that of the Pharisees of Jesus’ day. But that was not the end of my sin consciousness. It continued for many more years. It began to crumble around 2006 and the dismantling picked up speed when I began doing formal evangelism the following year. I had already begun to see that identifying and pointing out faults in others was not helpful. I began to be exposed to people who believed what is, for Jesus people, possibly the most inarguable truth about humanity – that we are all created in the image of our Maker – and their approach to evangelism was to identify what looks like God, whether in individuals, communities, institutions, etc., and focus on it. Because what you focus on, you magnify. If you focus on the negatives in your spouse, they will multiply. If you focus on the positives, they will multiply.
That which looks like God, in an individual etc., is called the Imago Dei – the image of God. There is nothing under the sun which does not carry something of the Imago Dei, even if it’s only a speck, even if I can’t see it – and if I can’t, perhaps there’s something wrong with my “eyes”.
The “total depravity” of man taught by Calvinists had completely dissipated from my belief system. What a relief to learn that I myself am not totally depraved!
I have just finished listening to a YouTube Christian radio program featuring several people who have either been to or are interested in the phenomenon of “transformational festivals”, like Burning Man. As someone who ministers in those settings, I found it pretty refreshing. They are truly seeking to understand everything they could about the subject, and they actually know a lot. They were generous and loving in their remarks about the events themselves and about the people who attend. Even so, there were those vestiges of the evangelical sin consciousness evident in their language.
I understand fully how deeply ingrained these attitudes are, so I have no desire to be critical of those people. My purpose in mentioning it is that I wish, hope, and pray that we can break the habit. It has always been the offspring of a bad theology, which I myself have only escaped through grace. But it is more crucial to shed this baggage, which generations before us have laid on our well-meaning shoulders, at this very exciting, post-modern, post-Christian time in history. As Jesus followers (and, sad to say, not all Christians are Jesus followers), we have much to offer a rapidly changing world. But not if we keep trying, even inadvertently, to lay burdens on people we ourselves have failed to bear. Therefore, we must first unburden ourselves.
“(I)s the Christian view of the world to be optimistic or pessimistic?” If we have any trust in God at all, optimism can be the only answer, and the world, and people in it, we must treat with honor, and we must recognize the hand of their Creator in them. Trust me, it is there. It is always there.
Consider the following two scenarios. The first one is completely true. The second is typical of countless, undoubtedly numbering in the billions, of encounters that have occurred throughout the history of Christendom.
Scenario 1: Na’aman (not his real name) came into our ministry tent at a festival in the UK. Na’aman was an atheist who was deeply troubled and hoped we could help. We told Na’aman that we would be calling on our Creator for wisdom so that we could help him. Though he was an atheist, he was ok with that. We did not suggest to him that he needed to acknowledge the Creator. He got some serious and very visible healing for some very painful emotional wounds. Over the course of the remainder of the festival, it was obvious he was experiencing a peace that he had not possessed previously.
Months later, I was at the Burning Man festival in the U.S. On a brilliant, hot morning, I was shocked and delighted to see Na’aman walking across the playa in my direction. He had found me! No easy feat at a festival of 70,000! We talked for a long time about a lot of things. Na’aman’s life had changed. His relationships with others had changed. He was at peace. I talked to him briefly about my Creator. I didn’t preach at him or push him to do anything. We had a big hug, and he went his way, promising to stay in touch.
Scenario two: A man is approached on the street by two others. Pleasant conversation occurs, but the man wonders what these two men want. Soon, the two begin talking about Jesus. The first man is polite, but on guard, because he knows from experience what is coming. Sure enough, the two men begin to press for some sort of acknowledgment about the things they are telling him. The first man politely thanks the two, says he will keep their suggestions in mind, extracts himself from the encounter, and goes his way. Or, in a variation of this scenario, the two become belligerent and the first man becomes angry.
In one of these scenarios, a seed was planted. In the other, a wall was built.
In his book, “The Celtic Way Of Evangelism”, George G. Hunter III writes: “Bluntly stated, the Roman model for reaching people…is this: (1) present the Christian message; (2) invite them to decide to believe in Christ and become Christians; (3) if they decide positively, welcome them into the church and its fellowship. The Roman model seems very logical to us because most American Christians are scripted by it! We explain the gospel, they accept Christ, and we welcome them into the church. Presentation, decision, assimilation —what could be more logical than that?”
Hunter goes on to contrast this with what he calls “the Celtic model”, which he attributes to the early Celtic saints beginning with St. Patrick: “(T)he…Celtic model for reaching people: (1) establish community with people or bring them into the fellowship of your community of faith; (2) within fellowship, engage in conversation, ministry, and worship; and (3) in time, as they discover that they now believe, invite them to commit.”
I personally prefer and even more light handed approach than Hunter seems to describe. I try follow as closely as I know how the example set by Jesus himself, who was seemingly aloof and hands off (by Roman and evangelical standards – in other words, by those of Christendom), always leaving the choice to the individual. Operating under this model, it’s not unusual to see people doing Kingdom work alongside believers before they actually come forward to state that they, too, believe. I don’t ever want to be accused of “selling” Christianity, or of pushing anyone into making a decision. I just want to do the best I can, poor as that attempt may be, to be Jesus to others.
It’s frustrating and extremely difficult to explain to traditional church people that, by far, the biggest obstacle to people coming to Jesus is the way the church has behaved toward those on the outside, and this includes the way the Gospel, or Good News, is communicated, which seldom sounds like good news at all. I once had a witch tell me that, though the group I was part of (which was ministering in Salem, MA – witch city USA) was cool, we were not the church. He then pointed to a street preacher with a bullhorn about a block away who was yelling at people, and said, “THAT is the church!” It’s heartbreaking to have to try to overcome a lifetime of negative experiences in the heart of a non-Christian when you represent such a tiny minority of believers.
We are living in a post-Christian society, for a lot of reasons, perhaps, but one reason is that Christendom has made itself irrelevant. It’s troubling and embarrassing to me that for most of its history, the Church has not behaved like Jesus did. I used to think just like the Church I am now finding fault with, and I remember being troubled that Jesus was terrible at “closing the deal”; Why didn’t Jesus ever lead anyone to Christ?? He was a terrible evangelist! That is how I thought, because that is how I was taught. Hunter attributes this mindset to Western logical thinking.
It’s refreshing today to see so many believers moving toward a more Jesus-like approach to Kingdom living. Within the institutional hierarchy of the church, though some leaders are recognizing the rightness of this, most of them are finding it very hard to make the switch completely. That is because hierarchy, as we understand it, is contrary to any genuine expression of the Kingdom. But that’s a subject for another blog post.
I welcome all comments, especially those who may take issue with my remarks.
I just got home last night after two weeks in the UK where I took part in an outreach at Burning Nest, a Burning Man affiliated transformational festival. This was my third time at Nest and I’ve been overwhelmingly pleased by the fruit of each of those outreaches. Each year, anyone who happened to be on the team made many genuine friends and were able to provide deep insight and even healing to many of our fellow “Nesties”. Through social media, we’ve been able to continue those friendships throughout the year.
I can say with confidence that this year was the best so far. And the only credit I can take for that fact is for inviting Papy Fisher and his Desanka team to come with me. Papy and his team of (mostly) young people are veterans at festival ministry and I’ve been fortunate enough to work with them at several different outreaches. They are skilled at helping to build and run large festivals, then provide hospitality to festival goers, mostly, but not limited to, feeding them good food. After a few years of seeing this in action, I decided after last year’s Nest that I never want to do anther festival without providing some serious hospitality. So I mentioned it to Papy. I was intending to twist his arm if necessary, but I knew it wouldn’t be. So Papy, Jake, Micheal, Jordan and Alycia (Smurfette, since she was the only female on the team, plus she has blue skin. Ok, she doesn’t have blue skin) came to Nest!
Their plan was to serve a great breakfast for free to whoever wanted it. This was an ambitious plan. Think about it – how do you take the necessary equipment for such a thing on an overseas flight? Well, you don’t. We borrowed canopy tent and chairs , but other than that, we had to buy or build whatever equipment we needed, plus the food! We bought two table top gas burners and a gas grill, and the three propane tanks to fuel them. We bought pots, pans, buckets, washtubs, and utensils. We built four work surfaces totaling about 19 feet long. We bought peppers, onions, potatoes, mushrooms, fruit, coffee, milk sugar, bacon, ham and sausage by the van full (We had to rent a van and a passenger vehicle), and over 700 eggs!. We got up early and worked for hours feeding festival goers. Why? Because sharing food with people is a very intimate thing to do, and because it’s one of the most loving ways to serve others, which is probably why Jesus did it. Ok, we didn’t do it quite like he did. Maybe next year! But because of our efforts, folks hung out with us throughout the entire festival, which resulted in even deeper friendships. We had a lot of fun too.
But before we could serve in that way, the festival had to be built. A lot of work goes into setting up an event like that. In the previous two years, we worked hard with the build crew. Last year, Mr. Jeff and I worked long hours for 3+ days helping to set up. We got to know the others who were on the “build” team. This year, the Desanka folks worked so hard that those organizing the build came looking for us whenever any hard work was needed. We got to know and love the others on the build crew.
Unlike nearly every other such outreach, there was very little formal tent ministry going on. Instead, any personal ministry we did was spontaneous and intensely relational. I had been trying to move in that direction for a few years now, with limited success. I knew that focusing on hospitality could achieve what I wanted, because I had seen it happen at other events where Desanka was ministering. I was not disappointed at Nest. I heard from Alycia of a man who identifies as agnostic who encountered God in such a way that he had to acknowledge he had had a genuine spiritual experience. A group of people who were intentional cynics and doubters showered us with gratitude and respect and we returned the favor. Several people thanked us and said that the festival was far better than it would have been had we not been there. I personally (because Jesus was working through me) was able to alleviate not a little of the pressure for two people with painful anxiety. And several told me how their lives had changed in the last year, or two years, after being ministered to by us.
We are currently relying on the extreme generosity of several people to be able to continue ministering at Nest, but one in particular who is storing our equipment for us. His name is Will. He’s a great friend, but we will not be able to continue to impose on him year after year. I know that’s it’s imperative that we continue at Nest, more so now that we have the correct formula. It will be impossible without outside support, so I’m shamelessly putting in a plug for support here! We need to be able to rent storage space in the UK. I’d beg if I thought it would help, but ‘nuff said for now 😉
If you’d like to know more about festival ministry and why it matters, feel free to contact me. If your faith community would like to have someone come and speak about our experiences, or if you would like a workshop in prophetic ministry, including prophetic street ministry, we’d love to help you with that. My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org
Last weekend I once again joined with Kelly Williams, Papy Fisher and a few of his Desanka team in festival ministry, this time at the five year old 3 Days of Light festival, which Kelly had been working on getting into for a couple of years, held this year in the mountains of Ferguson, NC. I have worked with this group at the Wild Goose festival several times, and last year at Haunted Happenings in Salem, MA. It was the first time at this festival for any of us. In addition to doing the usual prophetic ministry out of a tent, Papy was determined to serve the festival in some way similar to what he has done at Wild Goose. So, with Caroline Buchanan’s capable leading, in addition to prophetic ministry, we provided free delicious meals, water, coffee, the occasional roll of duct tape, etc., to anyone and everyone. The impact of having this added aspect of ministry is hard to calculate, but for the sake of illustration, let me say that our presence at this festival was maybe ten times as effective as it would have been with just the ministry tent alone. The ministry tent is where the deepest impact happens. It’s where bondages are broken and people knowingly connect with God. But there was more traffic through the ministry tent because of the free food and drink and the fellowship and relationships that resulted from them.
The importance of that fellowship and the relationships that follow can’t be overstated. This is where festival goers encounter people being Jesus at ground level. They are loved; even more importantly, they are liked. They keep coming back, not only for sustenance but just to sit and visit. Relationships deepen. Contact info is exchanged.
Contact info is exchanged in the ministry tent also, but the dynamic is different. It is that of one person needing help from another person. Sometimes, ministry really does continue afterwards with those who have received ministry in the tent, and a discipleship of sorts ensues. The friendships that develop over food, drink and conversation are different and invaluable. They are, I think like the friendships Jesus formed while on earth, with the mutual affection and easy interchange of people who like each other.
I really can no longer imagine doing outreach ministry without this dynamic.
The encounters we had in the tent were very deep, quite numerous – one after another much of the time – and often very intense. Some were so intense I wasn’t able to talk about them even with others on the team. I still feel unable to tell some of the stories. There was what appeared to be more demonic manifestation than usual, all of which were vanquished as we remained steadfast in prayer and the authority we carry. As usual, many of those who came entered easily into a two way conversation with their Creator, who they either didn’t believe in or weren’t sure existed, and then were delightedly stunned when it was pointed out to them that the conversation had occurred (that’s one of my favorite things). There was one man who, through tears, said he was “stuck” because of a broken heart. My own heart broke for his grief. He left, not without sorrow, but no longer stuck, and free of guilt and shame. I watched his face light up with joy when it was pointed out to him that he had had a two way conversation with God. It’s just so cool that they don’t realize this is happening when it happens!
God is so wonderful.
Recently, someone commented on one of my blog posts. Here is the comment. The part in sub quotes, which I’ve emboldened, was taken from the blog post in question, in other words, I wrote it:
“This is what you live out? Really?
‘My definition of evangelism looks something like this: To love my neighbors in truth – to get to know them, to listen to them, to truly “see” them. To be available to them, and to not give up on them – ever. That is, after all, how God treats me.’
“That’s not how he treats his own … His actions speak falsely … He judges and castes away those who have a differing opinion. He takes pride in yelling and arguing with those who stand on the street and share their point of view with others . He will condem you without seeking to understand. After all, he is right…there’s no room for any other perspective.
“If your actions are a reflection of who God is and If God treated you the way you truly treat others , I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with your God.
Your hypocrisy knows no bounds.”
Anytime someone comments on my blog, I get an e-mail and am given the choice to approve the comment or not. An e-mail address for the commenter is provided. This commenter’s name was given only as “Jo”. I don’t know who it is, but I am sure that he or she is connected with the bullhorn street preachers we regularly encounter here in Salem.
So I sent “Jo” an e-mail. This is what it said: “Have I wronged you in some way? I’m assuming you are one of the street preachers who preaches on the streets of Salem. Is this right?”
Having the misfortune of many years of dealing with these types, I know how they operate. I decided I would not approve the comment unless the commenter was willing to engage in something resembling a dialogue with me. I was sure he/she wouldn’t. But I had to provide the opportunity, and that’s why I sent the e-mail.
They didn’t respond.
So I sent a second e-mail a few days ago. This is what that one said: “I’m pretty convinced of your affiliation to the bullhorn street preachers, and your failure to answer my previous e-mail is very typical. You people are scared to death of having dialogue with those you come to slander. You are present day Pharisees, whitewashed tombs, wind without rain; you have nothing to offer the non-believers you judge and slander.
“Had you chosen to engage, I would have approved your comment on my blog and a conversation could have taken place there. I am considering writing another blog post using your comment as the basis to show how devoid of anything resembling Christ-likeness you bullhorn cowards actually are. Thanks for that opportunity.”
Yes, I know that’s pretty harsh.
So why am I writing this blog? Because I find these people and their actions so reprehensible as to be akin to murder. That’s not much of a stretch, based on Jesus’ own definition of murder; it’s actually consistent with that definition. I feel this kind of hateful behavior needs to be exposed.
These people come, spewing insults and accusations toward people they not only don’t know, they refuse to know them. They absolutely refuse to engage in conversation, choosing instead to hide behind their bullhorns. I have heard the refer to people they do not know, some of them believers, as “sluts”, “homos”, “devil worshippers”, etc.
So let me take the commenter’s points one at a time:
“That’s not how he treats his own”
You would not believe the lengths I have gone through to get some of these would-be evangelists to admit that I am their brother in Christ. Yes, I believe they are Christians. Badly mistaken ones, but Christians nonetheless. Only once have I succeeded, and that was probably because I was making him really nervous. I can be intimidating sometimes.
If I am one of their own, why do they announce to the crowd that I am a heretic? and doing the devil’s work?
“He judges and casts away those who have a differing opinion”
This one is laughable and when my fellow ministers read this, they’re liable to choke on their soup. I should probably warn them before I post this. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. These people have NO tolerance for any opinion other than their own very narrow and mean one. ‘Nuff said.
“He takes pride in yelling and arguing with those who stand on the street…”
Well, I don’t take pride in it, but other than that, guilty as charged.
“…and share their point of view with others”
They don’t “share” anything. They come uninvited and spew murder and hate. They come empty handed and are good only at really making people angry.
“After all, he is right…there’s no room for any other perspective”
One of their complaints against me is that I have TOO MUCH room for other perspectives. They themselves have none. Again, the pot calling the kettle black.
“I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with your God”
I know. My God is a God of mercy and grace. Yours is a harsh judge who hates people. They actually tell people this: “God hates you”. Yes, they do.
Many times, while these people are spewing hate from their bullhorns, I have shouted out to the crowd, “Who wants the god they’re preaching?”. They universally respond in the negative.
I can’t communicate how difficult these street preachers make it for those of us who are just trying to love people the way we see Jesus loving them. The older I get, the more sure I am that Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” was the legalists and “false apostles” who followed him around and made life difficult for them. It is frustrating beyond words. I fully understand why Paul and even Jesus used such harsh language in speaking to them and speaking about them. I know they are not going away. Sometimes, they make what we have to offer even more attractive. But their works are the most grievous thing we have to deal with, more difficult than lack of funds or fatigue. They are my thorn in the flesh.
“(T)he world has been crucified unto me, and I unto the world”
I’ve just returned from my trip to the UK. I did prophetic outreach at three festivals. I was joined at the Burning Nest festival near Port Talbot Wales by Mark Searle, Dee Cunniffe and Mr. Jeff. I then joined Phil Wyman and Andrew Thomas at How The Light Gets In, a philosophy and music festival in Hay-On-Wye, also in Wales. Several of the friends I’ve made during that time honored me by inviting me to visit them in their homes, so after the second festival, I travelled around England, visiting people in Hereford, London, and Hastings. These are not people who would identify as Christians and they know that I do, and yet through working together, breaking bread together, sharing a drink together, and hearing of or seeing with their own eyes how the love of God sets people free, we have become friends. And during my visits with them, those friendships were deepened. I was also able to do healing work and dream interpretations for some of the people I visited.
I then met David and Sandi Brown and their daughters, Shalom and Zoe, and Christopher Gaston in Salisbury and together we took a bus to the four day Stonehenge Solstice festival. Phil joined us there later that same day.
During the five weeks I was there, I saw a great deal of the UK (one of the many perks of this ministry I’m surprised to find myself in) but, more importantly, I and my teammates broke bondages, interpreted dreams and prayed for healing. Painful memories had the pain of them removed. We pointed out the Light of the World to people and taught them how to move toward Him. We warned them of the dangers they were likely encounter and how to avoid them.
Festival ministry is not something I ever would have chosen. Festival culture was not something I had any awareness of, and even if I had been aware of it, nothing about going to festivals would have appealed to me. I’m an extreme introvert. I avoid crowds. I don’t enjoy parties. Festival ministry chose me, you might say, suddenly and unexpectedly, back in 2007. I thought it was blip, a singular event in my life, but it has expanded and grown to the point where I have retired from my job to devote my life to it. I don’t presently have a place of my own to live, mostly because I don’t seem to need one. It’s a luxury I can do without for now. Meanwhile, the list of festivals I go to keeps growing. I expect to increase the number of UK festivals from three to five. I’ve lost count of the US ones. I still don’t like parties, and there are things that people do at festivals that I have no interest in doing, so there’s much I don’t participate in. But I am drawn to these people. And I am drawn to festival culture. It is my life, and I absolutely love it.
This is a culture that looks at society as it is and believes there are better ways. Who can argue with this? The world is a mess. The desire of these people for an alternative, and their belief alternatives are possible is, I believe, because they, like me, are created in the image of God. There is a hunger in all people for certain realities that reflect the nature of God, and there is much in society that does NOT reflect that nature. This is the Imago Dei, and is an amazingly beautiful thing to observe even in people who have no conscious desire for God himself, although I believe all people possess this desire innately. I have heard thoughts and opinions that reflect qualities I recognize as Godly from witches, from New Agers, from people who were drunk or high on drugs, from the mentally ill – all, I believe, possess a spark of the divine. I believe that even those with whom I vehemently disagree, or who are doing detestable things, in their heart of hearts, what they really desire at the bottom of it all are the things of God. God loves festival people, and I love them too. They ARE searching for a better way, and while I do not imagine myself as some sort of guru in their midst, I do see my role as that of a gentle guide, available to all if they want it, but honouring their journey whether they do or don’t.
What can I do for you? Do you have dreams that need interpreting? You can e-mail them to me. Are there bondages or strongholds in your life you need help getting free from? I do this ministry through Skype, free of charge. Feel free to contact me.