Lost in Wonder at the Fringe

By Matt Forsyth, Vice-President of the Conference

Why Edinburgh? That may be the first question to answer. The Fringe is the busiest, most colourful, and chaotic festival in the UK (certainly in my experience), with street performers on every corner, voices rising from every stage, and people streaming by in an endless flow.

Yet in the middle of this rush, the Methodist presence is quietly and intentionally different. We are there to hold space, to offer an invitation, to share our story, our song.

With a fantastic volunteer team from across the Connexion, the roaming sofa once again became that invitation. A simple piece of furniture, but one that provided an opportunity for the team to ask a profound question: When was the last time you were lost in wonder?

I was only there for a few hours, but in that short time, I was deeply encouraged by what I witnessed. People sat down, some for a minute, some for longer, and shared openly. For one person, it was the story of faith that carried them through the waiting and fear of a possible cancer diagnosis.

For another, it was the joy of tasting courgette for the first time (yes, courgette!). Another was from Ethan, who shared a love for history and wanted to make his mark in the Minecraft world. The range of stories was as wide as the Festival itself, from deep pain to simple delight.

What struck me most was the openness. In a city where thousands of stories compete for attention, with flyers everywhere, here was a space where people were reminded of their worth and their place in God’s unfolding story of grace.

Sitting on that sofa, people were permitted to remember, to wonder, and perhaps to sing a new song in their hearts. At the end of each sofa conversation, people received a free art gift, inspired by the conversation they had just engaged with.

It was only a small glimpse for me, but I left believing afresh in the power of intentional presence. In a busy, noisy world, the simple act of creating space to ask a question, of listening with grace can be transformative.

And so many left that sofa, having remembered a moment of wonder. Many left, I hope, singing.

It makes me wonder, how can I and you create a similar ‘sofa’ space in our places and spaces that surround us?