Outdoor Ministries: Present Challenges and Future Outlook

Christian camps across the country are facing tremendous challenges. I continue talking with camps that face serious financial problems, have cut back staff to save money, and are even selling property or considering closing altogether. For the majority of camps that I talk with (most of them Lutheran), summer camper numbers have been in steady decline for the past 5-10 years. While some challenges are uniquely Lutheran, the general decline in summer camp attendance among Christian camps seems to be ubiquitous. The traditional ways of dealing with a decline in numbers are no longer functioning because of tremendous cultural shifts that are changing the role of outdoor ministries in the Church. Consequently, an innovative new program is not enough to curb the decline. Sending the director out to preach at all the area churches is not going to “fix” the problem. These and other strategies may help to slow the decline, but now is the time for a radical reimagining rather than traditional strategies. Here’s why:

Financial Collapse:

The financial collapse of 2008-2009 came at an incredibly inopportune time. Through the ’90s and early ‘00s, camps were steadily increasing in camper numbers and capacity. Full-time executive directors began hiring full-time program directors, and camps recognized the importance of offering year-round ministries. Many mainline camps saw their summer camp numbers peak somewhere around 2000-2002. Building projects, land acquisitions, and staffing expansions during those boom years resulted in debt loads that became unsustainable through an economic collapse. While camps across the country saw dramatic decline in numbers during the economic downturn, most saw a rebound in 2010-2011. Many mainline camps have not seen the same rebound.

Religious Decline:

Mainline Protestant denominations have been in steady decline for the last two decades. My own denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) exhibited a slow decline through the ‘90s and then the loss increased through the ‘00s, culminating in a mass-exodus in 2009-2010, following a change in church policy. The ELCA has lost more than 20% of its baptized membership in the past 10 years. Other denominations are suffering similar declines. The Pew Research General Social Surveys marked a milestone in 2012 as those classified as “Protestant” in the USA fell below 50% for the first time in history. Unfortunately, dramatic declines in mainline denominations have hampered the camper number recovery seen in non-Christian camps around the country during the economic recovery. Evangelical Protestants, who have long derided the mainline’s decline as divine judgment, are now also declining steadily. Their conservative stances may have helped them pick up some disaffected mainliners and slowed the inevitable, but their numbers are now shrinking rapidly. Rather than switching denominations, many people (predominantly younger people) are leaving the church altogether. The so-called “nones” (those professing no religious affiliation) now represent 1 in 5 Americans.

From Congregational Outpost to Hub of Evangelism

With less Christians in the churches, camps that are so dependent on congregational ministry will decline along with their denominations. For years, mainline camps have been “support sites”  or “outposts” for congregations. In fact, this is how many of them were founded, and they continue to operate with “member” congregations and expectations that the camp is there to support the ministry of specific churches. Putting camp announcements in church bulletins and singing camp songs at Sunday school worked great when there were people in the pews. As Outdoor Ministry has evolved, camps have expanded their ministries and now face critical decisions of whether to remain primarily “outposts” for declining congregations (which can only lead to financial ruin) or re-envision their role in the Church, which has the potential to alienate some of their strongest congregational supporters (leading to financial ruin). Evangelical camps that are not as dependent on congregations will fare much better and are in a position to serve as hubs of evangelism (especially to the “nones”), leading young people and adults from camp into lives of discipleship that include participation in worship communities. Tragically, the close ties of mainline camps to their denominations, which for so many years have been mutually beneficial, may lead to the closure of some of the most exemplary outdoor ministry sites in the country.

Changing Demographics:

While camps are providing more and more programming for adults and families, the primary constituency is still children. According to US census data, the child population grew 3% from 2000-2010. Initially, this sounds encouraging. However, this growth is down from 13% in the ‘90s, and growth in child population is exclusively in minority populations. In fact, the number of non-Hispanic white children decreased 10% in 2000-2010. This is where camp needs to face up to a difficult and tragic reality: camp is largely a middle class, white phenomenon. Data from the National Study of Youth and Religion (1) reveal that white children are almost twice as likely to attend a religious camp than non-white children. Middle class kids are 1.7 times more likely to attend than low income kids and 1.2 times more likely than higher income kids. After the economic collapse, the wealth gap has increased dramatically. With less middle class children and less white children, Christian camping as we know it will continue to decline. As much as camps pride themselves on diversity, we need to do much better!
Crisis of Identity:

With so many changes in the economy, national religious climate, demographics, and parent denominations, many camps are struggling to survive under a model that no longer exists. Amidst all of the changes, there are tremendous opportunities. The number of non-profits has exploded (up 25% from 2001-2011, according to Urban Institute), meaning increased opportunities for partnerships. People give $316 billion to charitable organizations (2% of GDP)! Young people are passionate about service and social justice. The larger society and the Church in particular need camp now more than ever. In an age of faceless encounters, we need places of genuine encounter with the other. In an age of increasing suspicion of institutionalized religion and professional clergy, we need ecumenical enclaves of theological dialogue and play focused on lay ministry. In an age of “nature-deficit disorder,” we need places for people to experience and reflect on the importance of God’s creation. The Church needs camp. The problem is that churches do not necessarily see the need. One of the most interesting things about the so-called “nones” is that only 12% of them are atheists (Pew Research). In fact, 68% say that they believe in God! They simply have no use for organized religion, indicating that congregations and denominations are no longer entry points for people into lives of faith. Outdoor ministry sites may offer an alternative. Interestingly, 58% of "nones" say they feel a deep spiritual connection with nature. Christian Outdoor Ministry sites are fertile fields for faith formation and openness to the Holy Spirit moving in new and unexpected ways. Camps need to get over their crisis of identity and follow the movement of the Spirit to their roles as leaders of a new Christian awakening. This will not look like the old model of doing camp. In fact, I’m not sure what it will look like. That is why following the movement of the Spirit is both exciting and scary.

(1) The National Study of Youth and Religion, www.youthandreligion.org, whose data were used by permission here, was generously funded by Lilly Endowment Inc., under the direction of Christian Smith and Lisa Pearce. Data were downloaded from the Association of Religion Data Archives, www.TheARDA.com.

Living in God's Time: Advent at Camp

The Lutheran Outdoor Ministries summer camp curriculum for 2014 is titled “Living in God’s Time.” Camps will be guiding the campers and staff through the Bible study by way of the liturgical church calendar, focusing the daily themes on Advent, Christmas/Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost. In many ways, camp is the ideal place to reconceptualize liturgical practices because of its role as theological playground. The liturgy is meant to be participatory and experiential, creating space for the movement of the Holy Spirit. It is unfortunate that liturgy has become associated with stale, unemotional, institutionalized religion. As a place of imagining new possibilities, camp provides fertile ground to reconsider the richness of liturgical practices. Faith formation at camp includes smells, sounds, experiences, and ritualistic practices. Focusing the Bible study on the liturgical church calendar connects these formative experiences of camp explicitly with the historical practices of Christianity and has the potential to infuse new meaning into these practices for young people who may view church as dull and devoid of meaning.

Advent is probably the most misunderstood season of the church year. Most often, people use Advent as preparation for Christmas, and this has the effect of subsuming the significance of the season into the joy of Christmas. I think this view of Advent is unhelpful. Focusing on Advent allows us to regain Christian hope. Through hope, we recognize that the world is not yet what it was created to be, and we long for the wrong to be made right. The season of Advent is about recognizing the injustice and imperfection of this world and living in hope of something better.

Oftentimes, when Christians talk about hoping for something better, they are referring to heaven. Advent is not about heaven. Advent is about the coming of God into the world. Jesus’ opening proclamation in the gospel of Mark is that “the Kingdom of God has come near” (1:15). In Matthew, this is also the opening message of John the Baptist (Matt. 3:2). It is not that we are looking forward to some future appearance of the Kingdom of God or glorification in heaven. The Kingdom of God is breaking into the present world. As disciples of Christ, we are called to participate in this inbreaking, to be workers for the Kingdom. Camp is an ideal time and place to participate in “Kingdom living.”

Advent is about expectant (that is, active) waiting. The Kingdom of God coming near means that we live in a time of “already, but not yet.” The time is at hand and is even now breaking into the present, but it is not yet complete. “Living in God’s Time” is about Advent living. Prepare the way of the Lord. As disciples of Christ, make the Kingdom a reality here on earth. This is not our work alone but rather Christ’s work through us, Christ’s body.

A classic Advent text begins, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1). The prophecy proclaimed by Elijah and the rest of the prophets, including John the Baptist, is that God will intervene amidst the injustice of the world. The vision is one of peace and justice coming here on earth. The blind will see, the deaf will hear, and the lame will “leap like a deer!” (Isaiah 35:5-6). Swords and spears will be beaten into plows and pruning hooks, and people will “study war no more” (Isaiah 2:4). Then will be the time of Immanuel, God with us (Isaiah 7:14). Advent is the expectant hope that God does not sit exalted in some heaven lightyears away but is even now intervening in this imperfect world.

Imagine beginning your summer camp week with this theme and then participating in “Kingdom living” throughout the week. Imagine gathering with campers around a rotting stump with a green branch growing from the roots and proclaiming the hope of new life or reading the Advent text, “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse” (Isaiah 11:1). Imagine sitting with the campers on a dark night and lighting a single candle as you say, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it!” (John 1:5). Our role as camp ministers is the role of John the Baptist: to proclaim in the wilderness the coming of God in the world and to “testify to the light” (John 1:8). As we light their candles at camp, we prepare them for lives of discipleship when they go home, as they bring the light of Christ to a world in darkness.

For more on the opening theme of the curriculum, check out my presentation at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCv_6e0PBj8.

A Different Type of Camp

This past week, I took part in a different type of camp, one that played an even greater role in my childhood than Christian summer camp. I am referring to deer hunting camp. Each year on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, the gun deer hunting season opens in Wisconsin, and I have been participating in deer camp since 1992. Though one hunting buddy is fond of saying, “What happens at deer camp stays at deer camp,” I will take the risk of sharing a few reflections.

People are sometimes taken aback when they discover that I am a hunter. When I explore their discomfort, I usually find that they have a negative idea of what a hunter is and does. Maybe they see hunting in terms of killing and violence to creation. Whatever their specific concerns, these somehow conflict with their impressions of me. When I think of hunting, I think of camp.

Grown men, many of whom are seldom in church, gather at the deer camp. We drink and joke around a great deal, and an outsider might overlook the depth of compassion each has for the others. Through the years, we have helped each other through the hunt: finding deer, cleaning deer, dragging deer, butchering deer. We have also been with each other through very difficult times: heart attacks, injuries, and the loss of loved ones. We share concerns and burdens with one another. We also talk about family and faith. These days, there are very few deer in our section of northern Wisconsin. Each of us has other places we can hunt, but we always come back. Among seven guys this season, we did not get a single deer up north, and we hardly saw any. The truth is that we did not really come up to shoot a deer. We came for deer camp.

Hunting is a primordial skill that has allowed humans to survive and thrive for millennia. For me, deer camp is about family, friends, and the passing on of knowledge from generation to generation. My father is passing this knowledge to me, and I have already begun passing it on to my children. One of the best things about hunting season for me is spending lots of quality time with my dad. I cherish this time. I also cherish the time spent with our hunting friends. This year, I hunted with four different generations! There are few places in our society where knowledge is passed on in this way and the generations mix so intentionally. As we remembered those who have gone before us, we also talked excitedly about the next generation (including my two boys!) that is just now coming of age and will soon join us in the sacred place of deer camp.

At deer camp, we enjoy the wonders of God’s creation together and alone. This year, I saw every sunrise and sunset for seven consecutive days from a secluded spot as the forest came alive around me. I saw deer, turkeys, squirrels, birds, and possums. Through those hours in the tree stands, I prayed for loved ones, remembered times gone by, looked ahead to the future, and enjoyed the present of God’s beautiful creation. It is truly a spiritual time for me, and each year I come back refreshed.

Hunting has given me incredible knowledge and experience about my place in creation. As a whole, our society is too disconnected from our food. Meat comes from a grocery store, and it is difficult to make the connection that I have participated in the killing of an animal when I eat a chicken nugget. Life necessarily includes death. Plants and animals die in order to sustain my life, and one day I will die so that my remains may support new life. Perhaps paradoxically, taking the life of an animal with my own hand has given me a tremendous appreciation for life. I am no longer several stages removed from the animal that travels from farmer to butcher to processor to grocer to me. I can no longer ignore my part in the cycle of life because I am the one who pulled the trigger or released the arrow, and I can never take it back. I witnessed in awe the beauty of the creature that died so that I might live. It is far from barbaric. It is honest. It is life.

This hunting season, it was cold. I spent hours in the woods cold to the bone. My toes and fingers went numb. In the end, I did not shoot a deer. After all, getting a deer is not the real purpose of deer camp. Some people ask me why I would sit for hours in the freezing woods not seeing anything when I could just go buy some meat in the grocery store. I hope this post gives some indication. Happy hunting!

Articulating our Theology of Outdoor Ministries

I spent the past week at an outdoor ministry conference in Lake Tahoe with a group of Presbyterian (PCCCA) and Lutheran (LOM) camp people from across the USA and Canada. Together, we talked about the changing world of outdoor ministries and ways to collaborate in the future. We worshiped together, attended workshops, and listened to some challenging words from keynoter Kelly Fryer. More than any of these formal interactions, we talked and enjoyed wonderful Christian fellowship. We talked about our ministries around the dinner table, in some hot springs, and late at night over several rounds of drinks. Camp professionals are gracious, accommodating, and collaborative people. It was a great joy to share in community and bear one another’s burdens.

What strikes me about the role of outdoor ministry professionals is how much they are forced into the minutia of their work. The reality is that many outdoor ministry sites across the country are struggling for their very survival. There was much talk (including in Fryer’s keynote) about being entrepreneurial and how camps can think outside the box in order to provide funding for their ministries. Executive directors have boards to manage, budgets to meet, and many of them are struggling to hold onto their own jobs amidst crisis. The operative word is survival.

Meanwhile, the impact of outdoor ministries is losing recognition outside the camp circles. At an outdoor ministry conference, we all agree that camp is amazing, faith-forming ministry. From the outside, however, many people question the efficacy and importance of outdoor ministry. Support is dwindling as church membership declines and cooperative organizations like denominations are forced to make difficult budgetary decisions. My own denominational body, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, has cut the vast majority of its support to the 132 Lutheran Outdoor Ministries (LOM) sites. Perhaps more troubling, the National Council of Churches recently voted to stop funding their Committee on Outdoor Ministries. Congregational youth ministries continue to have national cooperation, deep theological articulation, and tremendous support, but so little of this is focused on promoting outdoor ministries.

In response, some camps are seeking to broaden their reach with token programs for which they are largely unsuited. Since creative programming is helping to slow the decline for some camps, much of what happens at an outdoor ministry conference is intentional sharing of innovative ideas that are succeeding in bringing people to camp. Again, the focus is on survival and “filling the bunks.” Of course, this is overly simplistic. Camping ministers do what they do because they believe in the power of the ministry and have witnessed that life-changing power at work in people’s lives. The problem I see is that they are forced to focus so much on survival that an overarching philosophy of camping gets pushed into the background. The result is that those not familiar with the power of camp do not hear camp philosophy and theology clearly articulated, so they are left to draw their own conclusions. The conclusion I often hear is that camp is theologically shallow or even dangerous, so camp is at best a fun experience for the church kids and at worst detrimental to their faith formation. With no books or scholarly articles on the topic and very few outdoor ministry education programs, it is no surprise that church professionals turn to the ministries that are getting some buzz, such as short-term mission trips.

My belief is that something deeply theological is happening at camp, and we need to tell that story. We need to articulate a theological framework for outdoor ministries that will help our camps refocus on the camping ministry model that is so effective for faith formation. Our theological priorities matter because they shape who we are and to whom we are oriented moving forward.

Each year, LOM has a Leadership Training Event (LTE), and one of the center pieces of the education is to have each participant develop a “philosophy of outdoor ministries” focused on articulating the philosophy and theology behind the programming. Many of LOM’s current program and executive staff members went through the LTE. When I asked individuals at the conference about their philosophy papers from the LTE, people did not remember what they wrote. Workshops at the conference were almost exclusively practical, with almost nothing focused on articulating the theology and philosophy behind outdoor ministries. Theological priorities may be operative at our camps, but they are not always articulated.

It is time to dust off those philosophy papers and get some theological and scholarly attention on the vital ministry of camp. If you have not written one, sit down and put into words the theological priorities inherent in your outdoor ministry philosophy. We know that something deeply theological is happening at camp, but outsiders do not know that. To them, it’s all just fun and games. There is a lot at stake here, much more than just the survival of our individual camps. The theological priorities of outdoor ministries have the potential to shape the theology and ministry of Christ’s church. The “fun and games” of camp turn out to be generative theological praxes that take seriously the activity of Christ in the world through the power of the Holy Spirit. As practical theologians continue to make the case that religious practice is not mere application but rather the very foundation of theological understanding, they would do well to recognize Christian camping ministry as a place where the activity of practical theology is already underway. Church professionals, too, have much to learn from the theological priorities of outdoor ministry. I have articulated some of these priorities in previous blog posts and in academic circles, and I will continue to do so. I invite you to join me.

Theology of the Cross and Camp: What a Mess!

Let’s get something straight: “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” is not in the Bible. (All the camp directors give a collective sigh of relief.) We Christians love building nice-looking church buildings “for the glory of God.” We hang beautiful artwork, the communion wear is spotless, and the stainless steel (or crystal) baptismal bowl is filled with fresh, potable water. The churches that really have their program in order boast worship bands that practice hours in advance of the service time so that the music throughout the service will be seamless and beautiful. Worship services are scripted to the point of perfection, and everyone has their part to play. Individually, these things are not necessarily bad, and most of them are done for very sensible reasons. My fear is that a focus on tidiness and cleanliness tends to gloss over the messiness of life and ministry to the point that they are unrecognizable as the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Life is far from neat and tidy. Life is a mess. If the primary place for encountering God is sterilized, what does that say about the relevance of the gospel in daily life? A cursory look at the gospels reveals that Jesus’ ministry was messy. He hung out with the outcasts of society and walked the dusty wilderness roads. The gospels come alive with the smell of the manger, the dirty feet of the disciples, the rot of leprosy, the bloody discharge of the hemorrhaging woman, and the stench of Lazarus’ tomb, yet the institutional church trades the muddy banks of the Jordan for the polished baptismal bowl.

The cross looks all neat and tidy when we place it shining on the altar or discuss theories of the atonement, but there is no tidying up the cross of the crucified God. The cross reveals that God is found in the messy, Godforsaken, suffering world. The tidy God can be controlled, polished, and presented to the masses, but the God of the cross breaks into the world in unexpected ways that cannot be neatly packaged or easily accounted for. Daring to create space for the messy human encounters where Christ might just show up is risky because it can shake the tower of theological academia and challenge denominational institutions. The truth is that much of the great theological work of the 21st century is being done in the dirty, imperfect world of messy relationships where the incarnate Christ is breaking in with news that the Kingdom of God has come near. The church needs places where people can connect as children of God amidst the grittiness of life, acknowledging one another in brokenness, and open to the diversity of ways in which God is working in people’s lives. It is difficult to find a place where this happens more concretely than at the Christian summer camp.

At camp, living in the Spirit becomes a way of life, not a sermon point. In intentional Christian community and through active engagement with the word of God and the practices of faith, campers are awakened to the possibility, or even the probability, that they will see God in some unique, unexpected way. At camp, young people become the recipients and the providers of pastoral care, with more direct attention to the reality of their suffering than most (if not all) other communities to which they belong. God shows up outside the pristine walls of the sanctuary in a grove of trees, an outdoor amphitheater, a campfire ring, or a lakefront. If they associate the church as place of worship with “the house of God,” they are able to reevaluate their notions of where God’s presence is found.

Even the camps that practice these virtues are far from idyllic worlds. Camps are risky places, full of tetanus, giardia, high-risk adventure activities, theological catastrophes, hormonal adolescents, and atrocious B.O. The reality is that relationships, experimentation, and openness to questioning make for a very messy environment not unlike the places Christ selected for his ministry. College-age summer staff that have very little theological training are wrestling with big faith questions alongside children and adolescents in their care. The explanations they try out in camp’s theological playground may or may not be theologically sound, but their wonderings are encouraged and theological thinking is affirmed in a manner that has life-long and even cross-generational implications. This theological playground is full of mistakes and failed experiments. It is messy. But the mess is where Christ shows up. Perhaps the most important thing that camp can teach the larger church is to be more comfortable with the mess.

Encountering the Other: Vocational Discernment at Camp

Like the adults who teach them, few young people live with a conviction that God is calling them. They live compartmentalized lives in which religious activities are separated from other commitments. Even if they consider themselves Christian, they are unlikely to bring theological reflection to bear on life circumstances, and they are even less likely to participate in daily faith practices. At camp, participants experience the rhythm of daily Christian living, where days are structured with devotions, Bible study, prayer, and worship. Participants live in a sort of “hyperawareness” for the inbreaking of God at any moment, which facilitates the “teachable moment.” This atmosphere is in sharp contrast to the majority of American homes. Integration of religious activities with daily living facilitates an awareness of God’s work in all aspects of life, and it encourages reflection on God’s activity in the world. It may be clear to a young person that God is present in a church building on Sunday morning, and so it makes sense that a pastor, priest, or deacon has a divine calling. At camp, the same young person may worship God at an outdoor chapel, around a campfire ring, or in a swimming pool and thus gain a broader understanding of where God is present and active. God is not located in a specific place or confined to a specific time of the week. God is at work in all realms of creation, and the divine calling can happen anywhere.

The turn toward the other is the beginning of vocation. The other is ever before us, in all his strangeness and alterity. The other calls to us, silently and aloud, with her own particular needs that may be complimentary to or in conflict with our own. A simple acknowledgement is not enough, and a cursory study will not suffice. An encounter with the other requires on-the-ground, face-to-face, heart-to-heart interaction that popular culture seldom facilitates or even allows. There are few places where social and cultural barriers that impede direct encounter with the other are effectively broken down, but camp seeks to demolish them. Camp is a place where adults play silly games and handshakes turn into hugs. At camp, intimacy is the default. Masks are removed to reveal the Face in all its particularity. Over the course of their days together, campers see one another in a variety of emotional and physical states. It does not matter if a camper is dirty and smelly because everyone is dirty and smelly. Campers have the opportunity to see the other away from the baggage of cultural and social stereotypes in a safe, loving environment and also to allow themselves to be seen. Instead of texting their friends about the lame experience they are having, the campers are forced to make sense of the person who is right in front of them. The other is not a screen name or an avatar; he is living and human.

The breaking down of barriers facilitates an intentional recognition of the other as integral to the created order, as special and beloved in God’s sight. For campers used to being put down and marginalized, the camp experience can be radically empowering.  Camp provides the space for differences and celebrates uniqueness. This focus on the other empowers individuals within the community and actually subverts societal forces that marginalize individuals and divide groups. “The other” matters because God is at work in this good creation, and God is speaking through the other, in spite of the brokenness and lack of faith. Vocationally speaking, this means that God is calling to me through the other and that the other is being called, a recognition that honors the other as a unique creation of God. Focusing on the origin of the vocational call reorients a person to “the other” and shifts the initial response from “I have a calling” to “Someone is calling.”

The Camp Guy Amidst the Academy

This past weekend, I attended my very first academic conference. I was nervous not only because I did not quite know what to expect from a group of "academics" but also because I was scheduled to present a paper. Since the main goal of pursuing my PhD is bringing more scholarly and intentional theological attention to outdoor ministries, I felt like there was a lot riding on my presentation. I tried to remain confident about my project and my abilities as a presenter, but doubts kept encroaching as the conference drew nearer. What if all the respectable academics thought my ideas were ridiculous? What if they did not accept me as a peer and colleague? What if nobody showed up to my presentation? What if I got to the middle of the presentation and really had to pee?
My experience at the Association of Youth Ministry Educators (AYME) conference in Chicago was tremendously positive. In retrospect, I am not sure why I expected anything different. Maybe I was hung up on the stereotypes of academics as stuffy, anti-social people with chips on their shoulders always ready to rip apart someone else's argument. In contrast to this, what I actually encountered were people. Real people. Many are published, and some are highly respected for their academic work, but they are people. More than anything, what I experienced at the AYME conference was Christian community. We were gathered in an atmosphere of building up the Body of Christ rather than tearing each other apart. This was in spite of a diversity of denominational affiliations and theological priorities. So I found myself hearing personal family struggles, having a drink, and watching a zombie movie with "respectable academics," who turned out to be genuine human beings.
The presentation itself went well. My colleagues showed a true interest in the research I uncovered about outdoor ministries and the connections I made in the paper with faith formation in emerging adults (see the previous two posts for some highlights). They asked great questions, and we had a respectful conversation.
One of my preconceived notions was that academics would view camp as theologically shallow and unworthy of serious consideration. I think in this case I was mixed in with the right crowd. As I got to know more and more of the 100+ youth ministry professors and other educators at the conference, I heard more and more stories about camp. Most of them had camp experiences in their past, and many shared stories of profound faith-forming experiences at camp. In many ways, this group of academics was prepared to hear that camp is a theologically rich environment. The conference was a very affirming experience for me. These colleagues truly let me know that I have broad support and caring accompaniment for my academic journey. They want me to succeed. They want me to succeed not only because they care about my project on outdoor ministries but also because they took time to learn about me, and they actually care about me as a brother in Christ.
As I continue to consider the incredibly affirming environment of Christian camp communities, it strikes me that this group of academics really gets it. In the context of caring Christian community, camp participants are nurtured in their vocational discernment, comforted through suffering, and accompanied through times of doubt. I never thought I would find a "camp like" environment at an academic conference. In conversation with colleagues, I heard deep hurt and suffering, and I felt like I was in a holy place as I bore witness to their stories, even as they bore witness to mine. The experience surprised me, but it was a refreshing surprise to find authentic Christian community in an unexpected place. I do not expect to have the same experience at all the academic conferences I attend, but at least now I know that I have true community support for the journey ahead.