The Importance of God's Creation in Faith Formation at Camp

The theological anthropology modeled in the Christian camp environment demands that humans take seriously their part in creation. From its very beginnings, the Christian camping movement has recognized the power of the natural world to facilitate faith formation when combined with theological reflection.(1) Numerous studies connect spiritual or faith growth to outdoor recreation experiences,(2) and there is evidence that participants view religious outdoor recreational experiences as “significant life experiences” decades later.(3) The unique environment of community living and outdoor recreation have great potential to facilitate spiritual development.(4) Transcending the studies demonstrating camp’s effectiveness is the Christian proclamation that God took on flesh (John 1:14), the very carbon-based matter of the created world that comes from the ground and returns to the ground (Genesis 3:19). The union of the human and the divine in Jesus Christ proclaims simultaneously God’s immanence and transcendence. God is here immanently with humanity in the midst of human relationships and yet this God remains holy, transcendent, and Other. Experiences in God’s creation can help recover a sense of awe and majesty in the presence of God. With the writer of Psalm 8, the young person is invited to consider the works of God’s fingers in the wonder of the starry night sky, the rugged mountains, or the powerful stream and realize in the depth of her being that the God who created all of that cares for her and crowns her “with glory and honor.” Recognizing one’s situatedness within creation moves the camp participant away from individualism and toward recognition of the other, to the “someone” who is calling through the neighbor and creation itself, as the heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19:1).

1) Abigail A. Van Slyck, A Manufactured Wilderness: Summer Camps and the Shaping of American Youth, 1890-1960 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2006), 52-57.

2) Paul Heintzman surveys and incorporates a variety of these studies. Paul Heintzman, “Nature-Based Recreation and Spirituality: A Complex Relationship,” Leisure Sciences 32 (2010), 72-89.

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

4) Two of the researchers from ACA’s 2005 “Directions” study make this connection explicitly with data from the study. Karla A. Henderson and M. Deborah Bialeschki, “Spiritual Development and Camp Experiences.” New Directions for Youth Development 118 (Summer 2008): 107-110.

The Gospel without Gunpowder

Last week, I had the privilege of traveling to Tokyo, Japan with my wife. Besides celebrating our 10th anniversary, the occasion for our trip was my college roommate’s marriage to a wonderful Japanese girl. My roommate traveled to Japan in 2005 with the Young Adults in Global Mission program of the ELCA. I expected him to return to the good old USA in a year or two, but he decided to stay in Tokyo to teach English. After a while, I figured it had to be about a girl, so I was not surprised when the wedding announcement came.

Neither my wife nor I had been to Japan before. Because of our gracious hosts, we enjoyed a great tour of the area and some amazing food, including raw fish, sake, and some excellent noodles. The cleanliness of Tokyo (there was no garbage anywhere!) puts our American cities to shame, and we noticed bicycles everywhere, most of them unlocked. I discovered that robbery is about 200 times more likely per capita in the United States than in Japan (that’s 20,000%). Honor and respect are important themes in Japanese culture. There were also green spaces everywhere in Tokyo with beautiful streams and tall trees. These green spaces were almost always surrounding a Buddhist temple or a Shinto shrine. Somewhere between 80 and 90 percent of the population practices one of these religions.

Christianity, it turns out, is less common. About one percent of the population (around 1.5 million people) is Christian, and between 20 and 30 thousand are Lutheran. Christianity has a complicated history in Japan that includes 200 years of heavy persecution and some notorious cases of mass crucifixion in the 17th century. In Japan, Christianity is inextricably linked to Western influence. Being Christian is, in many ways, counter-cultural. We can preach counter-cultural Christianity in an American culture of waste, crime, and general suspicion of the other. In Japan, however, being counter-cultural kind of loses its luster. I like a culture that has deep respect for family, has a strong connection to nature in the midst of the largest city on earth, takes pride in keeping things looking nice, and welcomes the stranger in open hospitality. Christianity in this culture should look beautiful. But what about Western Christianity? When the Jesuits came in the 16th century, they brought Christianity and gunpowder. Historically, it is difficult to separate Christian mission from Western imperialism and colonialism.

We joined the 50 or so regular worshippers at my friend’s Lutheran congregation on Sunday morning. Worship reminded me of services at my childhood church in the 1980’s. The only difference was that everything was in Japanese. Otherwise, I knew when we were on the Kyrie, prayer of the day, creed, and everything else. The hymns were all European-style, complete with organ. They even had coffee time after the service! I was hoping for more of a cultural experience in worship, and I found myself wondering if the Western bias could be separated from Christianity in Japan. Christianity seems to thrive in the U.S., with a murder rate 8 times that of Japan. Can our missionaries leave the gunpowder behind?

What does mission look like in Japan, which is the world’s 3rd largest economy? They do not need our hunger meal packages or our health kits. Maybe our Japanese brothers and sisters can help us. Maybe a culture that overflows with respect and cooperation can bring us a Christianity without gunpowder.

As I marveled at the European style service in Japanese and wondered if Christianity could ever be separated from Western influence, I looked up as the pastor raised a cup and spoke. I heard neither Japanese nor English but rather the words of Christ. I gathered with my brothers and sisters at the rail, and despite language and cultural differences, we shared in Christ’s body and blood. Mission is about accompaniment and mutual sharing. American Christians have a lot to learn from the people of Japan. As we build relationships and share in fellowship, Christ is present.

No More Hurting People

I watched in horror with the rest of the country. The Boston Marathon bombing touched me as an American, a runner, a father, and a man of faith. I wore one of my race shirts on Tuesday in support of the runners. That was the day that Martin's picture was released all over the news media. Martin Richards is the 8 year-old boy who was killed in the bombing. The picture I saw shows him holding a sign that reads, "No more hurting people." As a father of an 8 year-old boy, the image hit me emotionally and viscerally. The plea written in his own hand a few months before his brutal killing seems simple. It is so obvious to an 8 year-old what the solution is to violence: stop hurting people! I contemplated his words as I sought to sort out my feelings. Part of me wanted swift vengeance. I knew that American law enforcement would find the culprit and bring him to justice. Another part of me demanded that I look at young Martin's sign: no more hurting people.

Like so many others, I followed the police chase in real-time as the FBI identified the bombing suspects, confronted them in a shootout late Thursday evening, closed down the city of Boston on Friday, and finally confronted the surviving suspect on Friday evening. As the flashing lights covered my TV screen and the scattered reports of a boat, blood, and shots fired coalesced into a narrative, I was sure that they had killed him. I remember being grateful. The ordeal was over. People did not have to fear these terrorists anymore. They were dead. Then came the news conference, and I discovered that one of the bombers was still alive. The media showed his picture. They showed some of his family and friends.

Dzhokhar Tsarnaev is his name. He grew up in America, graduated from high school, and was attending college. He is 19 years old. In my years at camp, I have worked with a lot of 19 year-olds. Somehow, when I saw his face and heard his name, little Martin's sign came back into my mind: "No more hurting people." I can no longer think of him as "the suspect" or "the bomber." His name is Dzhokhar, and he is a young man with friends and family who love him and are trying to make sense of his senseless act of violence. Nothing can justify his act of terror or bring back little Martin and the others he killed. Is it wrong of me to humanize a terrorist like Dzhokhar, who by all accounts should be labeled a monster? I wonder what Jesus would ask of me. I think of Dzhokhar and cannot help seeing a human being, a flawed and broken human being lost in the wilderness. He deserves to die, and Martin deserved to live. It seems so simple. But it's not. It's complicated. As I try to sort out my feelings, my rage at the bombings cannot get past Martin's sign: no more hurting people.

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." Luke 18:16-17

The Seed

My children will know where their food comes from. The convenience of a grocery store allows our society to get practically any type of food any time of year. If my children want an apple in January or pumpkin pie in May, I can find some at the grocery store. The convenience of the grocery store allows us to get pre-packaged frozen meals that can be heated in seconds and eaten in minutes. We can ignore the people who labored for low wages, the methods that damaged ecosystems, and the miles the food was transported because it looks so pretty on the shelf. But my children will know that their food does not come from a grocery store. At a restaurant, we can get food cooked to order. We do not sow nor reap nor cook nor clean. We just say what we want, and it comes. If it does not come fast enough, we complain and maybe even get a discount because of poor service. My children will know that their food does not come from a restaurant.

Today, we planted some seeds. Outside, it is cold for the middle of March (25 degrees) and the ground is covered in snow, so we planted the tiny broccoli seeds inside in small pots. My children are only 8 and 5, but they have done this before so they know what will happen. Some of the seeds will sprout in a week or so. Some will not. We will keep them watered and make sure they have plenty of light once they sprout. As they grow, we will transfer some of them to larger pots as we wait for the snow to melt and the ground to warm. Together, we will work the thawed ground and add some compost from last year's table scraps and lawn debris. By the beginning of May, we will transplant the broccoli plants into our well-prepared garden. We will work in the garden nearly every day: weeding, watering, protecting plants from late-season freezes. Some of the plants may be munched by animals or stunted in their growth, but careful attention will allow most of them to mature. On a warm June evening, I will ask one of my children to cut some fresh broccoli from the garden, and we will steam it for dinner.

Why do we go through this tedious process when we could simply buy the broccoli at the grocery store or order it from a restaurant? It may be true that fresh vegetables are extremely healthy and that gardening saves a little money, but my wife and I think there is more at stake. We want our children to know where their food comes from. We want them to ponder the mystery of the seed. Though small, it has the potential to grow into great plants that provide food, shade, and oxygen to breathe (Mark 4:30-32). Faith as small as the tiniest seed has great power (Luke 17:6). Even though we labor to create a hospitable environment for the seed to grow, it is ultimately out of our control, growing as we sleep or wake, wait patiently or fret (Mark 4:26-29). The seed reminds us that the first task of the human was "to till the garden and keep it" (Genesis 2:15). We can learn great lessons from the seed.

In a place where we can choose any food we want at any time of the year, the seed reminds us that resources are limited. In a place where we are taught to demand quick satisfaction and tardiness is punished, the seed teaches us to be patient. In a place where getting food is as easy as ordering from the menu or grabbing a can from the shelf, the seed cries out that cultivating food requires hard work. In a place where we are encouraged to elude time and cheat death, the seed demonstrates that all must return to the ground. In a place where the earth is exploited, the seed insists that we are part of creation. Plant a seed. Plant a whole bunch of seeds. It may be that some shrivel up or get choked by weeds, but others will bear fruit in abundance.

What is blessed about wilderness? The wilderness can be a harsh reality. For some, it inspires fear and anguish; for others, hope and freedom. Where does your mind go when you think of wilderness? For me, it varies. Sometimes, I see the beautiful peaks of the Rocky Mountains or the majestic power of the Mississippi River, places associated with some of the best experiences of my life. Other times, I think of loneliness, despair, and some of the most difficult experiences of my life. For the purposes of this blog, we will be examining these and other meanings of the word wilderness. We call it "blessed" because we are confident that God is present through our various experiences of wilderness. We are not alone. In my life, I have experienced God's presence most clearly in what I may describe as wilderness experiences. God has a tendency to "show up" in my experiences of wilderness. I thank you for accompanying me in this journey. Your presence makes this experience all the more "blessed." In this blog, I hope to examine some of my own wilderness experiences of joys and struggles. I hope to examine the biblical witness of wilderness. I hope to examine the particular wilderness settings of Christian outdoor ministries. I look forward to our journey together.