Holy Ground

“Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground” (Exodus 3:5). Have you ever been overcome with such reverence that you felt the need to take off your shoes? I had a holy ground experience the other day. I am still processing the experience, and I am still working on how to articulate it, so I am inviting you to take this journey with me. It is a holy ground experience that has to do with breath, the Spirit, the holy ruach of God. This is the ruach (usually translated as spirit, wind, or breath) that moved over the waters at the beginning of all things (Genesis 1:2). Before there was light, there was ruach. This is the ruach that gave breath to the first humans (Genesis 2:7), brought life to the valley of dry bones (Ezekiel 37:7-10), and descended upon the believers at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4). This same breath gives life to all living things, this same Spirit enlivens the church for ministry in the world.

Grandma had a strong spirit, and she lived her life as a testament to the unfailing love of God through every season of life. I call her grandma even though technically she is my wife’s grandma. My own grandparents died when I was about 12, and I have known grandma for more than 12 years. In fact, she was the first of my wife’s relatives that I met, even before I met her parents or siblings. I call her grandma.

She has been in hospice care, so none of the family members were surprised when she took a turn for the worse last week. She was in pain as the caregivers were trying to adjust her medication to keep her as comfortable as possible. I sat with her alone for hours during this time, holding her hand and talking with her. As I asked her which Bible passages she would like me to read, she mentioned the psalms. So I read. There were moments of lucidity amidst the struggles her body was having, and in those times were grace-filled moments. She became fully alert at the sound of her granddaughter’s voice over the phone and at the sound of her son’s voice (my father-in-law) when he arrived. I was especially moved when she smiled broadly at the sight of my two boys and even identified my youngest by name. In her last conscious moments, she was surrounded by her family (children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren) and her last words expressed the overwhelming experience as she smiled at my youngest son and said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

In the days that followed, the act of breathing and circulating the oxygenated blood became the body’s sole tasks. Breathe in. Breathe out. The breath of life remained in her. After nearly a century on this earth, her body clung to that ruach, even as she was long prepared for the next life. Ruach: breath, spirit, wind. I was privileged to be there for the last breath. Whether by chance or design, I cannot say. But I can say that it was holy ground. Many of us were gathered around her bedside that night. We were talking to each other and reflecting fondly on the life grandma lived. My father-in-law left to settle the others in for the night and was going to return and spend the night with grandma, who had expressed days earlier that she did not want to be alone. I said I would stay until he returned, and then I also planned to leave for the night.

I brought a book to read, but it soon occurred to me that I was not alone, and it was rude to bury my nose in a book when grandma was just laying there with nothing to do. I recalled that whenever we went over to her house, she attended to our needs. There was always great food and hot tea (served properly). She was a gracious host, and a person really got the sense in her presence that she was not really concerned with all the other things she needed to attend to; rather, you - the one in front of her - were the only one that mattered to her at that moment. I put down my school book and grabbed the Gideon Bible from the drawer. It was clear where to turn: Psalms, her last conscious request to me. I read Psalm 22 and 23. I read Psalm 8. Her breathing changed. Her upper body moved a little, as if she was trying to adjust herself to hear properly. I half expected her to wake up, and I got the sense that she was listening, soaking in the words of promise and expectation. I continued reading. As I noticed her breaths coming farther apart, I turned to Psalm 103, one of my favorites. I continued on to another favorite: Psalm 104, a song of praise to God’s power in all of creation. The Lord gives the breath of life to all living things. “When you take away their breath,” verse 29 says, “they die and return to the dust. When you send your Spirit, they are created and you renew the face of the earth.” Her breaths were more labored now, and getting farther apart. This is when I had the urge to remove my shoes. I began singing “Amazing Grace.” As I transitioned from verse 4 (“He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures”) to verse 5 (“When we’ve been there 10,000 years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we’d first begun”), she took her last breath. I just sat there for a while, waiting for the next breath to fill her lungs, but it never came. Her breath, the ruach, had returned to God. She lived her life as a testament to God’s goodness and constant presence in all circumstances, and to her last breath she blessed me with the knowledge that I am in the presence of God.

As I live my life, I hope I can take every breath with the grace that she did, and when it comes time for my breath to return to God, I hope it bears witness to the presence of God in all seasons and circumstances of life. Her last message to me, and my encouragement to you: take every breath as a gift from God and be ever mindful of those grace-filled moments in your life when you are standing on holy ground.

Living in God's Time: Lent at Camp

The Lutheran Outdoor Ministry curriculum for this summer is walking campers through the church year, showing how the liturgical seasons give rhythm to our life together as Christians. Youth culture, mirroring the adult world, has become so fast-paced that young people seldom take the time to slow down and consider what it means to live a life structured according to God’s time. Camp is one of the few places left where young people unplug, slow down, and reflect on who they are in relation to one another and to God. Day 3 of their Bible study this summer will focus on the season of Lent. More than any other season of the church year, Lent is a time to slow down, reflect, and redirect our lives to God. It is probably the most observed season of the church year, with many people giving something up for Lent as a spiritual discipline. I think Lenten themes have an especially important significance in the camp environment.

Lent begins with the powerful and tactile experience of Ash Wednesday, probably the only time that Christians intentionally get dirty in church. We are reminded of our fragility and mortality: “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” At camp, we have no problem with getting dirty, of course, and it is also one of the best places for young people to consider who they are as fragile, mortal creatures. Think of the homesick camper who realizes his incredible vulnerability when outside the safety of the home. Think of the camper who looks out from the mountainside and realizes for the first time how fragile she is in the midst of this creation. Think of the campers sleeping under the clear night sky who open their eyes in wonder and realize how small and insignificant they seem in this vast universe. Camp is a place of vulnerability, a place to reflect on who we are in relation to God, one another, and creation. We do not have it all figured out, and we are not the center of the universe. We are broken, fragile people in need of a savior.

More than the other seasons of the church year, Lent is a time of personal spiritual reflection, when the practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are emphasized. Camp is known first and foremost as a place of community. In the context of this caring (and often overly exuberant) community living, we also offer our campers tremendous opportunities for silence and personal prayer. By a babbling brook or windblown meadow, the camper sits and his the chance to simply BE. Where else do young people receive the encouragement, community support, and simply the time for silent prayer, meditation, Bible reading, or contemplation on God’s creation? The best camps offer multiple opportunities each day for these traditionally Lenten spiritual practices so that they are incorporated into the rhythm of daily living.

Lent serves as the center of the liturgical year around which all the other seasons are structured and gain their significance. We proclaim during Christmas that the crucified one is God incarnate and during Easter the victory of the crucified one over death. The passion of Jesus Christ is the central story of Christianity, and Lent serves as a time of preparation for hearing about Jesus’ final hours on earth. The cross is our central symbol for a reason. Too often, church goers skip the Good Friday service and come only for Easter Sunday. We love to celebrate the resurrection and Christ’s victory over death. However, there is no resurrection and no salvation without the cross.

A theology of the cross proclaims that we find life in the crucified one. We are saved because God in Jesus Christ entered into the lowest possible human state of existence. On the cross, Jesus is forsaken by friends, the religious community, and God himself (Mark 15:34). Therefore, God is present and at work in our times of suffering, sin, and Godforsakenness. Whitewashing human suffering or skipping right to the resurrection is to deny the crucified one. Some people might say, “That’s too sad” or “I don’t want to dwell on that!” Others are mired in a state of Godforsakenness. Think of the camper with the addiction. Think of the camper contemplating suicide. Think of the camper who is emotionally, physically, or sexually abused. Think of those struggling to carry on after the death of a loved one. God is there with them in those lowest of circumstances. 

Camp is a place to be real. It is a place where suffering is laid bare. Camp is often the place where young people voice their suffering for the first time in their lives. Lent is a time of contemplation of Christ’s passion and eternal solidarity with the Godforsaken, and camps are Lenten communities when they hold people in their suffering and remain with them there. Don’t tell a camper that everything will be okay. Don’t say that God is bringing good out of the situation. Remain with them there and know that as they bare their soul and share with you the depths of their terrible suffering, you are on holy ground. You are in the presence of God, the crucified one.

In the context of Living in God’s Time, camps are Lenten communities. In the fulness of time (kairos), we see ourselves simultaneously living in Lent, Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Easter, and Pentecost. For more on the conversation, check out the webinar on Lent at camp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTDlb3odoFE and the post on Theology of the Cross and Camp.

Rethinking Camp Loyalty

One of the most powerful forces in Christian camping is loyalty. Successful camp programs are built around loyalty. Campers who have a great time at camp come to associate the positive experience with a specific place, and they are therefore likely to return in the future. Loyalty is a part of marketing, and the “brand recognition” of a specific camp becomes very important to its financial success. Camps need young people going home to tell their parents, siblings, and friends that their particular camp is the greatest place in the world. This creates loyalty, which increases donations and camper numbers, thus making the camp experience available to more people. For these reasons, camp loyalty can be an incredibly positive force in Christian camping. However, this breaks down when we think of it in terms of competing with other camps for camper numbers. We need to be clear on this: there is not a scarcity of campers. There is a great abundance of young people who have never been to camp, and camps must work together to give them a camp experience. We do not need them to go to YOUR camp. We need them to go to camp.

Loyalty is perhaps most evident in summer staff members, who often turn loyalty into competition with other camps. Camps rely on returning staffers to carry on the particular traditions of the camp and help incorporate new staff into the community. It is not uncommon to find summer staff members who have served for three or more summers at the same camp they attended for five or more years as a camper. Many of these “lifers” will carry their camp loyalty to whatever congregation they join or (in many cases) lead as a pastor or youth minister. This results in the strange phenomenon of youth groups traveling hundreds of miles, usually past several quality Christian camps, in order to reach their youth minister’s nostalgic “greatest place in the world.” If you ask these youth ministers about it, they will invariably say that they tried the local camp, but it simply was not as good as the camp they attended. So they drive their congregation’s young people hundreds of miles farther in order to give their youth the best possible experience. They are blissfully unaware that en route, their youth group van passes a caravan going the opposite direction because that congregation’s youth leader grew up attending and loving the camp that the other youth minister thinks is inferior.

In the mean time, camps continue hiring their own proteges to their year-round staff positions. This is especially prevalent among program staff. Program directors oftentimes follow the trajectory of high school counselor in training program to summer staff counselor to summer leadership staff to year round staff. In one respect, this is a tremendously positive example of camps raising up young Christian leaders to full-time ministry. Unfortunately, this can also lead to an unhealthy perspective of a particular outdoor ministry site that perpetuates the loyalty cycle at the expense of a more expansive view of the church. Program directors raised in a particular camping paradigm with little or no exposure to alternate camp styles are likely to encourage their summer staff members and campers to continue returning to that particular camp. Why go anywhere else when this is the greatest place in the world?

While camp loyalty buoys individual camps, it hamstrings the mission of outdoor ministries. We do not exist to create a bunch of camp loyalists. We exist as communities of discipleship that build up the body of Christ. If our campers and staff members believe that their particular camp has some sort of exclusive claim on the movement of the Holy Spirit, we are doing a disservice to the church, which exists in a diversity of expressions. We need young disciples and mature Christians who are open to the Spirit at work in multiple expressions, and the greater diversity of experiences they have, the more open they will be. We certainly do not want to set camp up as an “authentic” Christian experience in contrast to the experience of the congregation or other Christian settings. If campers go home with an understanding that God is at work in your camp but not in their home congregation, we have failed in our mission.

Now comes the difficult task of applying these concepts. It is staff recruiting season, and many of our camps are hoping for a solid number of returning staff members, including those who have been on staff for three or more summers. What might it look like to encourage these camp loyalists to go work for another camp? What does it look like to promote outdoor ministries instead of the particularities of your camp? If we are serious about discipleship and building up the body of Christ, our task is much broader than filling the bunks. When that former summer staffer calls to tell you about bringing the church youth group across the country to your camp, will you encourage him/her to support the local camp? We somehow need to change the paradigm from a view of loyalty to one of discipleship, from following a camp to following Jesus, from scarcity and competition to opportunity and partnership. Outdoor ministries will be much stronger as a result. When outdoor ministry is stronger, the church benefits for the sake of the world. When outdoor ministry is stronger, more people attend camp, including your particular camp.

That's Practically Theology!

“Practical Theology.” Have you ever heard the term? In Seminaries and Divinity schools, it stands alongside biblical studies, church history, and “systematic theology” as one of the major areas of study. With academic emphases placed on learning the Bible (we need that Greek and Hebrew!), history, and the great theological doctrines of Christianity, practical theology has been a sort of unwanted stepchild, confined to the task of application so that the “normal people” of the church can understand the mysteries of God (which are really only learned through rigorous scholarship). After all, practices and methods aren’t “real” theology, are they? Theology is the stuff of belief and reason. After you’ve done your theological thinking, you can figure out what actions to do. In the 20th century, great thinkers like Seward Hiltner and Don Browning began changing the perception of practical theology, arguing that there are no theological theories without practice. The truth is that there is no “systematic theology” that is not shaped by our life experiences and religious practices. Still, many in the academy view practical theology with skepticism and derision. My systematic theology friends like to refer to the field as “practically theology.”

We see this bias toward orthodoxy (or “correct belief”) in our churches, as well, particularly in mainline Christian denominations such as Lutherans and Presbyterians. In fact, our churches that should be united in solidarity with the poor and showing love to a world in need are actually splintering over doctrinal issues. We disagree over how God saves people from their sins, so we split the church. We disagree over what actually happens in the Lord’s supper, so we split the church. We disagree over the interpretation of a certain Bible verse or the translation of the Lord’s Prayer, so we split the church. We focus so much on correct understanding of doctrine that we neglect the great commandment to love the neighbor and the simple yet difficult call of Jesus to “follow me.”

I think this is why so many pastors and theologians are skeptical of the benefits of outdoor ministries. What they see is “bad theology,” and that is the most dangerous thing they can imagine. What if our kids go to camp and are exposed to some “incorrect” biblical hermeneutic? What if they learn about a problematic eschatology or, worse yet, soteriology?! They don’t seem to realize that these kids do not know what those words mean, they don’t care, and most of them will never care. It’s not that theology is unimportant. Theology is very important. However, theology does not come from correct understanding of theological doctrines that we formulate into ethics and then put into practice in our lives. That is the academic track that 99.9% of our Christian young people will never journey. Theology comes from practice. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in his classic Discipleship, it comes from obedience to Christ’s command to “follow me.” We don’t fully understand what or who we’re following; that is part of the journey of discipleship.

The Christian camping model assumes that Christ is active in the world and looks for where the Holy Spirit is moving in and among the community of practice. There is a sort of “hyperawareness” at camp as participants notice the inbreaking of God in concrete, unexpected ways and the continued activity of Christ in the world, what practical theologian Ray Anderson terms “Christopraxis.” Life at camp is normed in a way that takes seriously the ongoing work of Christ’s ministry, as guides (or “counselors”) and campers learn together to identify God’s action in the world through the mundane and the extraordinary. For young people accustomed to compartmentalizing their experience of God at church as separate from their everyday lives, the camp experience offers a radical recentering of their lives as caught up in and dependent upon the activity of Christ. This is the work of theology. And it’s very “practical.”

As young people return from camp excited about a faith that matters and empowered to do something about it, they do not need a dose of “real” theology. They need accompaniment. They need opportunities to put their faith into action and have an impact on other people’s understandings of God and faith. This is messy work because it means that young people’s home communities must take them seriously as burgeoning theologians, and these communities must be prepared for the probability that their theological assumptions will be challenged and even changed.

The “fun and games” of camp turn out to be generative theological practices 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 their field 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. The church needs to understand this, too. Maybe this is part of what Bonhoeffer meant when he wrote about a “religionless Christianity” in his Nazi jail cell. The world does not need religious institutions arguing and divided over complex theological doctrines. The world needs Christian communities of love and action on behalf of others. The world needs communities of Christopraxis, communities modeled at Christian camps across the country and around the world.

The False Church and the Godforsaken

I have experienced Christian camp as a place of inclusion, of radical love and acceptance, especially for those navigating the wilderness of life. Wilderness is a funny term. It can connote that which is wild and free in God’s beautiful creation, so camp becomes a place of wilderness by virtue of its outdoor setting. More than this, however, camp is a place that accepts people who are traveling a personal wilderness, for those who thirst for something other than water, as if they are alone in a dry and weary land (Psalm 63). The Christian community, which I have seen in its most concrete form at camp, proclaims that nobody walks this wilderness alone. Even though every individual has personal experiences that no other can fully understand, Christian community involves accompaniment. It is this accompaniment that makes wilderness "blessed." Theologically speaking, this accompaniment is the work of Christ himself, who walks beside us through the concrete presence of the other. Christ, the crucified God who walked the road to Calvary and endured the ultimate Godforsakenness (Mark 15:34), is the only one who can truly accompany us through any wilderness. Our society (indeed, our churches) is running out of places where this happens concretely in Christian community. Those who are loved and redeemed by Christ are left to navigate the wilderness alone while their church community stands, not in the place of love and acceptance, but in self-righteous judgment. Where the church community stands in this place, the gospel is obscured and the religious institution is no longer the Church of Christ but rather a false church.

There are countless examples of churches that have ceased being the Church. They adorn their proclamation with scripture passages while they deny the great commandment to love the neighbor. They claim exclusive right over the gospel proclamation, thereby denying their participation in the communion of saints. A clear example is the Westboro Baptist Church, with their proclamation of hatred and exclusion. The problem with the example of Westboro is that it is so radical that it serves almost as a caricature of the anti-Christian claiming to possess the gospel. More often, the distortion of the gospel lies within a community that also proclaims fragments of gospel truth. Such is the case that prompted this post.

A young man completed suicide recently. The very mention of suicide kindles burning memories of wilderness experiences for many of us, and I broach the topic with personal anguish along with attempted sensitivity for those whose experiences run deeper than my own and whose pain I will never fully understand. The funeral was at a funeral home because the young man’s congregation refused to host the funeral of someone who completed suicide. I can think of no greater failure of the church than when a congregation denies a Christian funeral to one who has completed suicide. It is the ultimate failure of accompaniment. The purported reason for the denial of a funeral is the gravity of the sin involved, as if the act of suicide is somehow greater than other sins. Suicide is indeed the result of brokenness and sin, but how can anyone be so blind as to place this sin on the shoulders of the very one who was traveling the wilderness? The Church is the community called into the wilderness of this world to provide water to those who thirst and, in the absence of water, to accompany the traveler to whatever end (yes, this means that a church community must be willing to sacrifice itself for the sake of accompaniment). If someone dies in the wilderness, it is the Church alone that is guilty of this death. To compound this tragic failure with a denial of responsibility is reprehensible. To go even farther and deny the responsibility of accompanying a grieving family through their wilderness is a clear case of ceasing to be the church. The sin and brokenness belongs with the churches, with the very institution that would deny him a burial and thus declare him Godforsaken, a condition that aligns him closer to the crucified Christ than the self-righteous ones who would claim power over the gospel.

People are sounding alarm bells over the decline of Christianity in the United States. They cite the declining numbers of church membership and the rise of the “nones” (those claiming no religious affiliation). Maybe this has less to do with a denial of Christ and more to do with the denial of false churches, of those institutions claiming the name “Christian” while forsaking the fundamental values of the gospel. Christ is the one who accompanies people through their wilderness experiences, who walked the Godforsaken road to Calvary so that the Godforsaken might be redeemed. Those who would deny the wilderness travelers entry into their sanctuary would deny entry to Christ. Maybe we need more “nones.” Maybe we need more people who would look the false churches in the eye and recognize that Christ is found elsewhere: in the lost, sinful, broken world. I weep this day with those who have suffered the brokenness of suicide. Churches that have barred their doors to you have barred their doors to Christ.

Living in God's Time: Epiphany at Camp

Of all the seasons of the church year, Epiphany is probably the most overlooked. It lacks the anticipation of Advent, the cultural appeal of Christmas, the excitement of Easter, the contemplation of Lent, and the sheer length of Pentecost. It is undoubtedly for this reason that Epiphany is the one season excluded from the Lutheran Outdoor Ministry summer camp curriculum. Functionally, it fits just fine as a parenthetical to the Christmas season. This reflects the practice of our congregations, whose annual Christmas pageants almost always include the Magi presenting gifts to the child in the manger. It is simply easier to tell the story this way rather than explaining that the Magi actually came to visit Jesus months or years after his birth and the baby (toddler?) was no longer in a manger but living in a house (Matthew 2:11). Easier to understand though this approach may be, I think there is something unique to the Epiphany idea that is more than just a bridge from Christmas to Lent and has special significance for those who work in outdoor ministries.

Christmas is about celebrating the coming of God into the world as a human being. The incarnation, God taking on human flesh, is one of the most important concepts in Christian theology. It is the church’s way of proclaiming that the Crucified One is the Incarnate One. If Christmas is about God coming into the world as a human, then Epiphany is about the realization of this event. Whether we recognize it or not, God has come into the world. God loves and redeems humanity even if people do not see God lying in the manger or hanging on the cross. Epiphany is the making known, the shedding light on who it is lying in the manger, and this is incredibly important for our faith. Jesus’ disciples went to their deaths for the gospel message because Christ revealed to them who he was. So while the incarnation of Christmas is key to understanding salvation, the manifestations of Epiphany are key to understanding discipleship.

We tell congregation members and camp attendees that God loves us, became a human for us, and died on the cross for us, but actual belief in this crazy story takes place through encounters with God. When they tell their faith stories, people I speak with often describe this as the time when they “owned” their faith. They encountered God in some unique way, through some unique movement of the Holy Spirit, and they had an “epiphany.” Epiphany is a Greek word that means “appearance” or “manifestation.” In ancient times, it was often used to describe theophanies, or direct experiences of God. We use it in a similar way during our liturgical year. Epiphany is the season when we hear about Christ being made known in the world. The traditional Epiphany stories include the visit of the Magi (when sages from foreign nations recognized Jesus as the king), the baptism of Jesus (when the dove descended and the voice from heaven proclaimed Jesus the Son of God), and the changing of water to wine at Cana (Jesus’ first public miracle). Epiphany texts also include the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, when people first saw him as the great teacher and healer of the sick. In the Lutheran, Methodist, and other liturgical calendars, Epiphany concludes with the festival of Transfiguration, the ultimate moment of epiphany when Peter, James, and John saw Jesus in his divine glory on the mountaintop.

Maybe it is becoming clear why I consider Epiphany such an important concept at camp. People often describe camp as a “mountaintop experience.” For many campers, they encounter God in a new and unique way at camp. The experience of intentional community in God’s beautiful creation gives people space to consider their faith in a new way. It is not that Jesus shows up at camp and not other places. As the incarnation tells us, Jesus is there the whole time. However, camp participants often recognize this amazing truth for the first time. Peter, James, and John had been hanging out with Jesus for three years before the transfiguration, but what happened on the mountaintop forever changed their perspective on life. The camp experience has the power to do that because at camp, Christ is made known. That incredibly powerful experience does not happen to everyone who comes to camp, but we certainly create the space for the Spirit to play. This summer, keep an eye out for moments of Epiphany. They can lead to lives of discipleship.

For more on the LOM Curriculum on Christmas/Epiphany, see my webinar presentation at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjRwqSmf3yA.

Summer is Coming!

This post was first published at firstthird.org

As a new year dawns, the weather is frigid in the upper Midwest. Schools are cancelled in several states due to extreme cold, and the warnings say things like, “Skin will freeze within 5-10 minutes.” Seriously, my skin is going to freeze?! The trip to the mailbox reminds me of a Jack London story. Bundling up with five layers complete with ski goggles, I make the 75-foot trek through -55 degree wind chills, fearing that I am risking my life for a few credit card offers and an Eddie Bauer catalog. Fortune smiles upon me: the summer camp brochures have arrived! Nothing cuts through the frostbite so much as anticipation of camp. I may not be able to set foot outside for fear of losing fingers or nose, but the pictures of laughing children, campfires, green grass, and flowing streams infuse me with hope: summer is coming!

As we enter the season of the church year known as Epiphany, we reflect on the ways Christ is made known to the world. I talk a lot about Christ and write a lot about theology, but the academic rigor seldom translates into a revelatory event or process that I could describe as an epiphany. When I talk about my faith, I do not refer to my experiences in the classroom so much as my experiences at summer camp or on retreat. These experiences of “epiphany” are when Christ’s presence was made known to me through the power of the Holy Spirit in new and unexpected ways. I refer to them as Paul referred to his Damascus road experience (1 Cor. 15:8, Gal 1:15-17) and Peter to his experience on the mountaintop (2 Pet. 1:16-18). Research shows that I am not unique. Camp experiences provide significant and lasting positive life outcomes (1), and intentionally programmed group wilderness experiences are proven to be looked back on as “significant life events” decades later (2). Critics claim that camp builds an artificial and temporary “spiritual high” that quickly fades after the experience, but they are not looking at it in terms of Epiphany. Camp is not about a spiritual high but rather about making Christ known, about providing space for the Holy Spirit to move in new and often unexpected ways. The excitement and positive energy of camp may wear off, but the faith formation leads to lives of discipleship, and the faith experiences serve as markers that can help redirect young people as they navigate their spiritual journey.

For camp directors, the time of eager anticipation has begun. The brochures are out and camper registrations are coming in. In the meantime, potential summer staff members eager to serve God and minister with young people are joining the excitement. This summer, intentional Christian communities will form and transformational faith experiences will happen at camps across the country. Present and future leaders of Christ’s church will discover their specific callings as disciples devoted to new ministries that the rest of us have not even considered. Individuals suffering in difficult life circumstances will hear and experience for the first time in their lives that they are beloved children of God. Families will strengthen their bonds of love and fellowship as faith is passed across generations, from parents or grandparents to their children and from the young campers back to their parents.

In the midst of a bitter winter with no end in sight, now is the time to proclaim with confidence that the cold will not endure! Youth ministers and pastors, now is the time to sign your group up for a summer adventure experience at your local camp, or travel together to hike the mountains or canoe the backcountry. Parents, sign your children up for an outstanding faith-forming experience at one of our Christian camps AND register your entire family for family camp, which will be a cheaper, less stressful, and more positive experience than any other family vacation you can plan. Young adults and those young at heart, hundreds of camps are now looking for staff members like you, and the summer staff experience has the potential to be one of the most influential of your entire life (it certainly was for me)! Believe the good news: Summer is Coming!

Find Lutheran camps at lomnetwork.org.

Find Presbyterian camps at pccca.net.

Find ACA accredited camps at acacamps.org.

1) American Camp Association. “Directions: Youth Development Outcomes of the Camp Experience.” Martinville, IN: Author, 2005. http://www.acacamps.org/sites/default/files/images/research/directions.pdf

2) Brad Daniel. “The Life Significance of a Spiritually Oriented, Outward Bound-Type Wilderness Expedition.” Journal of Experiential Education 29 (2007): 286-389.