At Wild Goose Festival "I found my flock"
Attending the 2024 Wild Goose Festival at Van Hoy Farms in Harmony, N.C., was a first for me. Even though I’d heard about the annual gathering of progressive post-evangelicals, I really did not know what to expect. However, as David Hayward — better known as the NakedPastor — expressed in a conversation with me after the festival: “It wasn’t what I feared.”
About 2,000 people from all across North America assembled on the grounds just off Jericho Road for a spiritual family reunion of sorts. Many came in their RVs or camped in tents along the outskirts of the outdoor four-day festival. They came from all walks of life, clergy and laity, Christians and Nones, straight and queer, old and young, a convergence of diversity gathered to be a part of a unifying table in the wilderness, a party with a purpose, a safe and welcoming community — a flock of geese.
The Wild Goose Festival began when a small group of people formed the inaugural board in 2009. Wanting to bring the concepts of a similar-style festival that some of the board members regularly attended in Greenbelt, England, they began to conceptualize what became the first Wild Goose Festival in 2011.
Joy Wallis, the first woman ordained by the Church of England and a founding board member, explained the festival was named after the Celtic symbol for the Holy Spirit. Geese fly in formation together, take turns in the lead and are much wilder than a dove, a more common symbol for the Spirit of God.
From Thursday morning to Sunday afternoon, activities were available for the entire family. Children had their own Goose experience throughout the day, while adults participated in a wide variety of sessions.
The Wild Goose Festival centered on four pillars of thought and expression — spirituality, justice, music and art. Co-creators facilitated talks about one of these four pillars. Some gatherings occurred around tables in interactive conversation, while others took place as lectures or panel discussions under a tent.
Much of this year’s festival focused on spirituality. On Thursday, I spent much of the day under the tutelage of Hal Taussig, Su Yon Pak, Chebon Kernell and Victoria Loorz in an extensive discussion titled, The Wild, New, Big and Broader Bible. Among other things, the seminars focused on texts from the Nag Hamadi library, such as Thunder Perfect Mind, which used predominantly feminine imagery to describe the divine.
Throughout the weekend, I learned from other brilliant scholars such as Jennifer Byrd, who spoke on marriage equity; AJ Levine, who explained Christian misconceptions of Jews; and Jacqui Lewis, who elaborated on how we empower the “snake” if we do not use the hermeneutic of suspicion.
The festival also focused heavily on justice. On Friday morning, Obrey Hendricks walked us through the Lord’s Prayer as a way of understanding the importance and radicality of racial justice.
In light of the upcoming election, much discussion focused on the dangers of Christian nationalism. Doug Pagitt, Nathan Empsall and Leah Shade provided a panel discussion of their respective organizational efforts to confront this threat on our democracy. Brit Barron spoke of the importance of taking personal responsibility and making a difference in our local communities, and David Gushee called us to address the modern, God-haunting crisis through radically reoriented communities of faith.
Music played an important role throughout the festival, too. A variety of music genres could be heard from the main stage throughout the day. In worship gatherings, musicians led everyone in singing songs not normally sung in church. Participants sang and danced to everything from The Beatles’ Come Together to Jim Henson’s The Rainbow Connection.
Each night climaxed with headliner concerts by Christian LGBTQ+ artists — Jennifer Knapp, Spencer LaJoye and Flamy Grant. Afterward, people gathered under a large tent for Beer and Hymns, a sing-along time of playing instruments, singing old hymns together and relishing in the safe and welcoming environment of a faith collective.
Some musicians led conferences, too. For example, Jennifer Knapp discussed her spiritual journey, her decision to recreate her Kansas album this year and the intersection of theology with art.
Art could be seen throughout the festival. Participants could purchase everything from painted rocks and art prints to apparel and books. A large tent in the center of the festival provided space where participants could create their own artwork. Organizers auctioned some art to raise funds for future festivals, and other pieces were available for purchase.
Some artists also facilitated sessions. For example, Hayward talked about his own deconstruction journey after walking away from 30 years as a pastor, his renewed interest in drawing cartoons, and both the opposition and encouragement he receives as the NakedPastor.
For most who attend the Wild Goose Festival each year, it is “community,” and for many, it is “church.” Pagitt, executive director of Vote Common Good, talked about participants and their spirit as they are “stuck together” at the festival and beyond. Board member Wallis spoke of how LGBTQ+ is in the DNA of the Goose and how the festival is the last stop for many who are wounded by the church.
Several participants shared their experiences with me.
Sharon, who was at the Wild Goose Festival for the first time, used words like “mystical” and “sacred” to describe her experience. A fellow first-timer, Chantel, described how amazing it was to be around like-minded people. Mari and Jeff spoke of the festival as a place for their souls to be fed. Mandy said it stretched her mind and soul. Similarly, Collen transparently told how she came tired and left refreshed. Scott said participating is an overall must-do for his well-being. Sam conveyed participating was an invitation into the open and uncomfortable, and Jamie said faith was restored at the festival.
Bill explained how the festival gave him “… hope and connection in a world that is often lonely and hard to find your community.” John also valued the intentionally inclusive community; Karen added it was a judgment-free zone. Elaine noted the kindred spirits, deep conversations, wonderful music and timely rest. Julie spoke of the radical hospitality, and Gayle said it was the place she could be her authentic self. Roger summarized the festival as “… wind and hope in our sails.”
Ray Waters, pastor of The Village Church in East Point, Ga., captured the spirit of the Wild Goose Festival best: “I used to dream of a place where a diverse group of people could come together to engage in profound spiritual, academic, political and psychological conversations about life, justice and human flourishing. A place where voices that are often muted — women, people of color, immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community — are uplifted and celebrated. Imagine if this place also featured some of the most creative artists sharing their incredible talents with us. Such a place would foster life-changing friendships and profound personal growth. I found that place at the Wild Goose Festival. It has become a yearly pilgrimage for me, one that I never plan to miss.”
In sum, the Wild Goose Festival was a place for me to be myself, surrounded by other sojourners who have not given up on Jesus, even after being traumatized by the church.
As a person who embraces the emerging church movement, deconstruction of faith, progressive Christianity, and open and relational theology, I was with kindred souls. I met and learned from mentors in my faith, reconnected with old friends and instantaneously met countless new ones.
To borrow a phrase from Barbara Brown Taylor, “I had done right to be right where I was.” I found my flock!
Patrick Wilson has served as a pastor 25 years in Dallas and Austin, Texas, and most recently in in Rolla, Mo., where he now leads a community of faith, CrossRoads. He is a graduate of Baylor University, earned two master’s degrees at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and a Doctor of Ministry degree from Logsdon Seminary.