I’ve never been. But many of my friends go every year. Many, many, many. So I’m not sure why I haven’t until now. But I am going to Greenbelt this year. And I’m really excited about it.
I have heard that Greenbelt is a bit like Reading, only Christian. It’s a bit like New Wine only liberal and with a different sort of hand-waving. It’s a bit like Spring Harvest but without chalets. It’s not very much like any of these things. Or maybe it is. Oh yes, and there is apparently tea. In tents. And cartoonists (at least one I know). I think there will be loud music and hilarious comedy and thoughtful discussion sessions. I know there will be some big names like Milton Jones there who will probably make me laugh (if I can get in the queue early enough). And Rob Bell, recently denounced heretic for his book Love Wins, who actually has something very important to say and will probably make me think. (I’m taking the book with me for intellectual ammunition — and I suppose since it’s hardback it could come in useful as physical ammunition in the vanishingly unlikely event that Rob Bell actually deserves stoning.)
But enough from me. It’s late (ish), and I have a train to catch at not long after 6.00 am tomorrow. I had better retire.
See you at Greenbelt, if you’re one of those thousands of people. If you are not, see you when I see you. If, indeed, I do.
Burglars’ note: I live in a shared house, so this announcement of my imminent departure doesn’t mean it’s any more available for looting than before. Many apologies if I got your hopes up.