Proof in the Pudding: Wild Goose and Critical Self-Awareness

Part VI in a series of reflections on the Wild Goose Festival

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"What are we doing, and how well are we doing it?"

This question should probably run through everybody's mind at some point -- constantly.

To put it in theological terms, it's Luther's first and second uses of the Law. What should society look like? (Use #1) Are we living up to that standard? (Use #2; The answer, of course, is no.)

It's this question that sends us to our knees at the beginning of every single Mass. We know that we have sinned against God and neighbor in "thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone."

Critical self-awareness is one of the great gifts to humanity. We know that we are, but we also know that we are not perfect. Whether or not someone is willing to term this lack of perfection "sin," there is no denying that we as a species and as individuals do not always behave the way we are meant to.

We are capable of seeing our own faults, and we can strive to do better.

As Frank Schaeffer fielded questions from the literal field he was addressing, someone asked about the role of Latino/a voices at Wild Goose. And it hit me: Oh. Yeah. I guess I really haven't seen or heard many Hispanic voices in this conversation. A few, to be sure, and a Native American presenter. But not many people from Global South at all.

And, come to think of it, there aren't many non-white people here as attendees. A few, but not many.

This year, Wild Goose gave a platform for many black and queer voices to address white listeners. Instead of coming with answers for the marginalized, the privileged sat and listened.

To be sure, Wild Goose is a unique place. Progressive Christians come together and listen more than they speak. They question more than they declare. These are good qualities to bring to a conversation. And in doing so, the festival is a place where people acknowledge their own faults and failings. It's a place where someone is not afraid to ask a keynote speaker if the festival itself -- much beloved by attendees -- is a little too "bobo" (bourgeois-bohemian -- think hipsters wearing their $200 consignment store pants and typing on their MacBooks while drinking PBR and living in a yet-to-be gentrified part of town).

The sad fact, though, is that Wild Goose is still mostly white, middle class people taking a long weekend to camp in the woods. A fun time, and a productive time -- I dare not suggest that thinking is bad. Nor am I so cynical as to believe that people will leave the campground behind and return to their parishes with little more than warmed hearts. But I do have to wonder what is next for many of the people I lived next to for the weekend. What will they do when they get back home? How will their parishes be changed?

I suspect that one of the great indicators of how successful Wild Goose has been is how Wild Goose will change in the future. If our four days of thought actually produce the change we want to see in the world, what voices will we invite to the Goose next year? What speakers from the developing world will be invited? What speakers will come and bring a challenging world? Voices from Africa, the Caribbean, Asia, and South America?

But more importantly, what will we do if these voices bring a word that challenges our middle class white theology? We've learned to charitably disagree with ourselves, but can we bring that same love and understanding when we disagree with those not like us?