A phrase I often hear when working in the church is about going to the edge or being at or on the edge, this particularly comes up in pioneer or NPNP1 gatherings. It is a phrase that has recently brought me some discomfort. This disquiet has caused me to reflect on what it means to be at the edge, where the edges are and if we need to focus on being somewhere else instead.
In this reflection I am choosing to see the edge as the outer limit of something2. The curb marks the edge of the road and of the pavement. Crossing that boundary moves you from one to the other. The edge of a cliff separates solid ground from the drop. The edge of a shape tells us if it’s a circle, a square or a triangle. These edges are defined by the “something” they surround or the boundary line between two spaces, they can also help us define what the “something” is.
In Edinburgh, at the Fringe there are lots of edges. Sometimes these are solid and immovable edges, but often they are fluid and dynamic as they form around different things. Take the Royal Mile. It stretches from the castle at the top of the hill down to The Palace of Holyroodhouse. For a short stretch, between Tron Kirk and the David Hume statue, the road is blocked off by giant metal barriers that mark the edge of the main Fringe performance playground. Within this area magicians, rappers, street performers and artists set up at designated points to entertain the crowds. At each spot an edge is formed, first by rope laid down by the performer, and then as the crowds gather. When the performer finishes the edge disappears as the people disperse. Moving through these crowds are the tour guides. They hold umbrellas or flags aloft for their followers until they stop and an edge forms around them marking the tour out from the rest of the masses. Then there are those who hand out flyers for the many shows and create edges along the street as people try to avoid them. Finally, the buildings and statues form very rigid, solid edges along the Mile.
For Lost in Wonder, I have often thought of the sofa as the centre, the focal point for what we do. Surrounding it is the edge. This is where people move around us, some making their way to the next show and others taking photos down the mile. There are those who stand and wait for a friend on the sofa or stare at what’s going on or ask questions about what on earth is happening here. All these people are on the edge. When we debrief after our time on the Mile we talk about conversations that took place on the sofa and those on the edge to mark where those interactions took place. It may be that this is an distinction all the team have made or maybe it is just they way I have thought about it.
What I have seen whilst being apart of Lost in Wonder is that people want to sit on the sofa, even though it draws attention to them in that moment. There is a risk to sitting on that seat in the middle of the road, a threshold has to be crossed that takes them from the edge to the centre. Yet the invitation to tell their story outweighs the risk. Other people don’t want to sit. Sometimes that is because they don’t think they have time, or there is more than one of them or because they don’t want to move from the edge to the centre. Yet they still cross a threshold, as they share their story of the joys and pain of life with a complete stranger where they are.3
I think the reason those phrases about edges began to bother me is becasue they are framed by our worldview and priorities. When they are used in the church it is because we still see the church as the centre and everything else as the edge. When I have used it on the Mile I have seen the sofa as the centre and anything around that the edge. Yet the conversations that take place on the edge and in the centre are both as important. In fact they are the everything of what Lost in Wonder is about.
What happens if I stop thinking about edges and centres in this way? What happens if we see those meaningful conversations as the centres, the focal points in which we sense that God is present? This makes everything much more fluid. Edges come and go as they form around the conversations that take place. On the sofa, in the street, at the bus stop. Where two or three are gathered.
If the focus is on the conversation then where ever joy, pain, love and loss are discussed then grace is present. The conversation between two and three becomes the space where the divine presence is at work. Edge and centre no longer matter.
There was a moment that brought this thinking to life. As I looked at the space we inhabit on the Royal Mile, I saw a conversation on the sofa taking place. There were also three or four going on around it. There were edges around each of these, not barriers but boundaries that defined each sacred space where God was at work in that moment. When the conversations finished the edges evaporated. Space was created till the next person chose to get lost in wonder.
1: New Places for New People
2: Edge can also be understood as something that is sharp (cutting edge, double edged sword) or as a small measurement (to edge closer or to have an edge over a rival )
3: A question/reflection this raises is around the sofa as disruption. An unexpected surprise. That is for another time.