Beyond Men's Room Etiquette

There is a very particular way to act in the men’s room. The rules are simple and straightforward, though people seldom talk about them. First of all, eyes straight ahead. Don’t look left and don’t look right. That spot on the wall right in front of you is the most interesting thing imaginable. The person next to you does not exist. If someone toots, try not to laugh. If a laugh slips out, conceal it as a cough. Remember, pretend the person is not there. In fact, if there are more than two urinals, skip one so that you can be farther away from the person in order to reassure them that you really aren’t going to engage them in conversation or sneak a peak. If there are only two urinals, better to go in the stall than to pull up next to someone. Most importantly: don't talk to anyone! Remember, pretend the others are not there. The rules are simple, and they make a certain amount of sense in the men’s room. I see a problem, however, when people use men’s room etiquette as a way of being in the world.

You’ve all seen it. You walk down the street and everyone else is staring straight ahead, or maybe they are looking at some interesting spot on the ground. They are determinedly looking anywhere except at you. In fact, if you are approaching someone on the sidewalk, they might even cross the street to avoid interacting with you. If you try to say something, they either completely ignore you or look at you like you've violated some sacred contract. Even in conversation with people I know, I find many of them avoiding my gaze, either looking down at their hands or playing with their blasted smart phone. It is as if they are allergic to eye contact. I understand that some people are socially awkward and that most people are introverts, but being introverted does not mean avoiding others or pretending they don't exist. That’s how we deal with people in the men’s room, not in everyday life.

I fear that people are becoming less comfortable in the physical presence of others. They do not know how to interact, so they revert to men’s room etiquette: eyes straight ahead, leave plenty of room, and don't talk. The reality is that many people spend more time interacting with a computer screen than with others. People are becoming more concerned with the characters on their favorite TV show than with people in real life. Even relationships that we have are increasingly impersonal. People in the same room communicate via text message rather than face-to-face. People have over 1,000 friends on a social media site, but they have few, if any, close relationships. Our fast-paced, technological world seldom allows for intentional, face-to-face interaction.

There is a profound sense of loneliness associated with this loss of face-to-face communication. Our human minds are programmed to respond to the human face. Infants form attachment patterns with the face of the primary caregiver in the earliest weeks of life. Much of our psychological and neurological development happens in relationship to the faces of others. James Loder insists that this human longing for the face has theological implications that turn the individual to the Face of the One who does not go away. Emmanuel Levinas writes about the ethical implications of this human need for the face, saying that the encounter with the "face of the other" gives definition to our own personhood and makes ethical claims upon us. If people are biologically programmed to respond to faces in ways that give rise to emotional, spiritual, and social well-being, there are profound consequences to the loss of face-to-face interaction. In many ways, losing the ability to interact with the face of the other is to risk our humanity.

As people concerned with the well-being of others, Christians need to seek out places of intentional encounter. This is especially true for those of us who minister with young people. More than any other generation, the young generation is socialized to avoid face-to-face interaction, and this is creating a warped sense of self, a distorted view of what constitutes reality (think of RPG avatars and “reality” TV), and a profound loneliness in the midst of the most connected world in history. One of the reasons I believe so strongly in the Christian camping experience is that it is a place of genuine human encounter. People who would normally not choose to be near one another are placed in communities that are completely unmediated by technology. If they do not get along, they cannot simply “unfriend” the other person or stare at the wall in front of them. They are forced to make sense of their otherness. This may not lead to a lifelong relationship, but it will lead to ethical encounter and face-to-face interaction that can shape their understanding of self in relationship to the world. Rather than searching for their identity as solitary individuals, the caring Christian community looks them in the eyes and proclaims who they are: Child of God.

Whether we take them to camp or find other “camp-like” places of intentional face-to-face encounter, we as ministers with young people need to find ways to get them away from men’s room etiquette. Stop looking at the ground! Stop looking at that spot on the wall! Stop looking at your smart phone! There is another person right in front of you. That person has deep hurts and profound longings. That person needs you to be the presence of Christ in their life right now. How can camp change the world? As an intentional place of face-to-face encounter.

Come and Die

Bonhoeffer said that following Christ is an invitation to "come and die." He is referring to the life-changing nature of following Christ that includes intense suffering. You are invited on a journey that passes through death to new life. March is here, and a specific invitation to Christ-following is taking place across the country. Now is the time when camp professionals race around to colleges and universities to recruit the young Christians that will make up the core of their camp communities this summer. Staff recruiting is an incredibly stressful process because there is so much at stake, but it is also filled with hope and expectation. The undeniable and rather frightening truth is that the summer staff experience has the potential to transform the lives of the staff members (not to mention the campers they will serve). It might be the subtle suggestion of a pastor, the overbearing encouragement of a friend, or the dumb luck of noticing the camp recruiting table in the student union that completely alters the young adult’s life. They turn in the application, not knowing fully what they are getting themselves into. It’s probably better that they don’t know.

As camp directors travel around to these colleges and universities trying to find the very best young people for their camp staff communities, they try shifty ways of convincing the young people to apply. They will tell you things like, “Serving on camp staff looks great on a job application!” or “You will acquire great practical skills that will serve you in whatever career you choose.” They will even go to great lengths to convince you that the first-year summer staff salary of $250 per week is actually a lot of money, since you do not have to worry about expenses like rent and food. To be fair, they are not technically lying to you when they tell you these things. However, they are not being entirely truthful, either. They know full well what will happen if you are hired to work on summer staff at their camp, but they also know that if they tried to describe it, you would go running for the hills. So they tell you nice fluffy stories to convince you that you should apply. Let me be clear: they are not being malicious; they are simply being prudent. They want the best people to work at their summer camp, and if they were entirely truthful with the applicants, only insane people would apply, and they wouldn't pass the required background check. I know you will forgive them. They are simply being practical.

If they were honest with you, it might sound something like this: If you work at our camp this summer, chances are you will never be the same. Your current ideas of God and the world will be challenged and probably completely changed. You will be stretched to your physical and emotional limits in a number of ways that may even push you past the breaking point. You will be more vulnerable than you have ever been in your life, and you will entrust your deepest secrets to people who are now perfect strangers. In a single day, you will experience deep sorrow that will penetrate to the core of your being and overwhelming joy that will make you physically nauseous. You will forge life-long relationships, and you will rethink the status of some of your current relationships. You will consider and probably decide on a completely different career path. Your words and actions will completely alter the life course of someone you come into contact with. Though you will probably never know that you affected them, they will never forget you. You will encounter someone going through previously unimaginable suffering. You will try desperately to help them but will never know if your efforts did any good. Through it all, you will be embedded in what will probably be the most loving and supportive intentional Christian community of your life, but this community is temporary. I wish I could tell you exactly what the experience is going to be like. However, the Holy Spirit is at work, and that’s a big wild card. We have no idea what the Spirit is going to do with you this summer. Chances are, it will be unexpected and at times uncomfortable. But it will be wonderful. Trust me.

I suppose there are reasons why camp professionals do not use "Come and Die!" as a recruiting slogan, but they all know what the camp experience is really about. It is not about job applications, salaries, fresh air, great tans, or playing fun games. It is about participating in the activity of God’s Spirit at work in very specific and powerful ways. If we talk about this too much, it will scare people to death. We don’t want that. We want them to work at summer camp because we believe that it has the power to change their lives for the better. I wish that every single Christian young person would work at summer camp at least one summer during their college years. I think we would have a better church and a better world. Do you know a young person or two who should consider working at camp? Mention it to them. It might change their lives!

Lutheran Outdoor Ministry Camps and Jobs

Presbyterian Camps and Jobs

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.