Today, there was only one man dominating the thoughts and warming the cold cockles of most Greenbelters – Rob Bell, founding pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Michigan, USa and known to some as the 'Elvis of the Emergent Church'. The fact that most people had donned virtually all the layers of clothing they’d brought with them to survive the night’s arctic chill saved them having to get dressed and, therefore, a bit of time, as practically the entire festival arose to queue up outside The Centaur – the festival’s biggest indoor venue – to hear Rob give his first Greenbelt talk, 'Drops Like Stars'. I, along with Ambient Wonderers Heather, Annie and Matt, joined the back of the already long, winding row of people (hence the title of these blogs) at about 9:30am. It wasn’t long before the queue's sheer length (hence the title of the post) put us off and we all went our separate ways. I stayed with Matt to meet his friend Rob T, who led us to join some friends of his still in the Rob Bell queue; Adam, Lucy and Pete, who didn’t expect to get in but were lining up just for the fun of it.
We stood in the queue, jokingly moaning about having to line up for this Christian ‘celebrity’. "Why doesn't he just come outside and do it?" Someone commented.
"I bet people didn’t have to queue to hear Jesus", I concurred, perhaps somewhat foolishly, as Rob T sarcastically began calling out about Rob Bell being the Second Coming. He jokingly compared himself to Bell ("We've got the same glasses!") and was challenged to give a talk for those of us whom it was looking increasingly unlikely would see the man himself. Although amusing, Rob ‘Tel’ quickly ran out of steam and left to go to an alternate worship session elsewhere.
The rest of us actually did pretty well, getting within a few feet of the Centaur’s doors, before being turned away because the venue was at full capacity. It was about 10:45 and Bell was probably well into his talk (which was meant to begin at 10am), so it was just as well we didn’t get in. Matt and I opted to attend Rob T’s worship do instead. ‘Background Noise’ by Foundation church, in The Shelter youth venue, a tent in which we were cramped with about twenty others. We were all handed ear plugs (which I thought would come in useful to filter out anymore night-time camp noise) for the racket that was to follow, provided by a young bearded man talking on a makeshift lectern, another doing an interview with an older man and a girl telling some story very melodramatically, until another girl walked into our midst and bellowed, ‘I CAN’T HEAR THE VOICE OF GOD!!’
I had to admit that I had also been struggling to do this and thought, for a moment, that all the noise had been natural but now realised it was their deliberate attempt to recreate the clamour present in some churches, at the expense of silence and listening to God. Silence was the result of the girl’s outburst now, as another began playing a satirical song on her guitar, following a plea for money towards her making an album. I liked the temerity of Foundation’s approach, but not enough to warrant my staying there for an hour and missing my chance to do so some Taize singing. I left as discreetly as I could, feeling even more self-conscious than I had when leaving Gavin's yesterday, since this was a much smaller venue.
Taize Singing in the Arena was fantastic. I really enjoyed reacquainting myself with some of the tunes I had first encountered when visiting the main Taize Community in France over a decade ago. I loved the fact that Greenbelt had organised a practice before the main service on Monday. To start with, the choirmaster marshalled us all into choral sections (myself a manly Bass, of course) and, along with his band, taught us the chants to be sung during the actual service. Apart from the off-key woman who lead the Soprano ladies and some bloke spilling my coffee, I really got into the singing. It was a little time of worship in itself (silence included; Foundation would be happy) and one of my favourite moments of GB09.
After lunch, I attended a workshop organised by the L’arche community called ‘Bread of Life’ in the Workshops 2 venue, which took me a while to find within the labyrinthine Grandstand. I entered to find about 50 people watching a small show put on by L'arche carers and cared-for, people with profound mental disabilities. The show was based around Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand, during which we were all given some bread and asked to get into small groups to reflect on how Jesus had fed us. Various answers from my group included Jesus feeding us through conversations with others, the Bible and Greenbelt talks.
To cap things off, a very outgoing Scottish woman with spikey grey hair took to the floor and encouraged us all to dance to a jolly tune from the community that sent some heading for the exit, whilst others stayed and enjoyed it. I stood at the back and watched, before striking up a conversation with a nearby L’arche volunteer. She told me that she was a medical student from Germany, who had suspended her studies to spend time in the community and was enjoying it. During our chat, a disabled middle-aged lady, who had been encouraged to dance by her carer, suddenly froze in a seizure and had to be eased to the floor. This was pretty disturbing and I wondered if I would be able to cope with such an occurrence if I were a volunteer. I guess the biggest reason for my attending the workshop was the fact that Henri Nouwen, a great influence on me, spiritually, had spent the final years of his life working in the community and I had, in the past, felt that this might be a possible path for me. I hadn’t thought about this for quite some time but thought that, since the opportunity was there, I’d see what L’arche were like for myself today. After this workshop, I didn’t feel led to work with them.
I had a few hours to kill before the first Ambient Wonder session, so I took a wander, taking in the G-Books bookshop and G-Source, a tent full of stalls advertising various charities and voluntary opportunities. I took in a few, including the Tipping Film Fund and their “World’s Smallest Cinema”, advertising the various socially-conscious films that the TFF were drumming up funding for. Is that a man or woman with pink hair above? Comments below, please.
After catching up on some sleep, I joined the other Wonderers to set up for our Ambient Wonder alternative worship session, 'Standing on the Shoulders of Giants' ('SOTSOG') in the New Forms venue. I was anxious that my DVD of various 'giants' (e.g. inspirational people from down the ages) would work properly which, thankfully, it did, projected as it was onto seven different areas around the sizeable room. I then set up a camera for Matt’s ‘YouTube Confessional’ in one corner. The camera was on loan from a friend and was, to be blunt, ancient and probably only one generation on from an old cine camera. He paid £700 for that?! Still, it worked fine, despite the fact that only three people used it, including myself.
The session was popular (I heard afterwards that people were turned away at the door to avoid overflow, including Rob Bell! Perhaps.) and people seemed to go with the flow and really get involved with the activities. Given that I was manning the Confessional corner, I didn't really get a chance to engage with most of the interactive elements. Since this was all very experimental, people responded better to some things than others. They weren't too keen on giving their thoughts about the current state of church (despite my attempts at gentle persuasion) but they did at least seem entranced by my wonderful DVD, projected all over the room! I didn't really get a chance to engage with the activities myself (bar a quick video Confession near the end) but then, I felt that doing the DVD was itself part of the show and serving Ambient Wonder and the people who attended. I did get nervous when I spotted the girl who had shouted about not being able to hear God’s voice during the Foundation service, and hoped that our event suited her auditory needs, despite some rather intrusive background music (not Sixpence None The Richer, thankfully). I was happy that she wanted to record a Confessional but couldn’t help but be concerned that she might have recognised me and complained on camera about this idiot who walked out of Foundation's carefully prepared event, before spitefully storming out of ours. She didn’t, thankfully.
After our session, all of us except Debbie, who had opted to attend another talk, relaxed with a drink in the Blue Nun, a posher version of the perennial Greenbelt watering hole, the Jesus Arms (a beer tent). At the Nun, I was affronted to find that a cup, a paper cup, of red wine cost £4!! Crikey, they could have at least provided some bread with it! Paul came to my rescue, when he arrived, parting with four of his hard-earned pounds to buy me a cup. When we all parted ways, I headed to Mainstage to watch Scroobius Pip Vs. Dan Le Sac (which I later realised sounds a bit like Cul de Sac, such as his music often went into - I think it’s called ‘sampling’ in the business?) play a set. They were enjoyable, but hardly mind-blowing. I liked their song 'Thou Shalt Always Kill', despite its slightly biblically inaccurate title. I was, at one point, distracted by Pip's impressively large Muslim-style beard that went well with his baseball cap (maybe they were attached?). I couldn't help imagining what it would be like to leap upon the stage and tug hard on his facial hair, then running off. Fearing a demonstration of the above commandment, I decided against it. Their song ‘Letter From God To Man’, which I'd previously heard and which I'd hoped to hear them do today, was a highlight.
Following Pip and Le Sac were Norwegian electro-funksters Royksopp - the musical highlight of my weekend. A big Saturday evening draw, Royksopp put on a fantastic show, full of blazing pink, green and blue lighting, engulfing the two band members. They were joined after a song or two by a gyrating female singer, on loan from another electro-band called The Knife, according to Matt. Royksopp's song, ‘The Girl and the Robot’, was my favourite but truly bizarre, as one band member dressed up like a red Power Ranger and stood triumphantly in centre stage, whilst The Knife woman knelt and sang ‘Hallelujah’ a few times to him in a worshipful manner. Matt, Heather, Annie (who surprised me by donning a pink wig that happened to match some of the band’s lighting. Matt tried it on later and arguably looked better in it) and I all seemed to get into Royksopp’s heavy pop groove and it was good to enjoy the gig with other Wonderers after having been to almost everything else by myself.
I eventually composed myself to enjoy a very relaxing and peaceful service, perfect for the end of a long day. I particularly liked the vicar’s liturgy (if that’s the right word?) that asked how well we knew God and to imagine ourselves floating through space, seeing God as the stars, ‘bright specks of truth in an unknowable darkness’. This was apt, given that I was sat in an area of Soul Space that had a ‘starfield’ on one wall to my right. Here, there were prayers and comments about God written on paper stars by various people, including Rob Bell, whose star people kissed as they left the service (perhaps).
After the Prayer had finished and we’d all come down from surfing the astral plane, I asked the vicar if he had a copy of his liturgy and he, Paul, was kind enough to give me his handwritten notes. I then spent a few moments reading people’s star notes and flitting through some oversized books about the cosmos that were lying around, imagining myself floating through gigantic clouds of space dust and nebulae – like Hugh Jackman within his bubble spaceship in ‘The Fountain.’ As I walked back to my tent a little later, a girl of about 16 walked up to me in the dark and very politely asked, ‘can I have a hug please?’ How could I refuse? This left me even happier after the Night Prayer, mainly at the friendly Christian vibe generated by Greenbelt.
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