Next week, I’ll be at Camp Walter Scott. For the past six weeks, I’ve been preaching on the scriptures that our campers will read and discuss at camp, the scriptures and topics that those who have already been to camp this summer have read and discussed, if their camps adhered to the camp curriculum.
And this scripture from the camp curriculum, from the book of Isaiah, exemplifies what camp is all about.
Camp is about something new. Camp is about lifting up a whole new way of living.
To some, a week at camp sounds like exactly the way of living they long for: a week of fun in the sun, making new friends, spending time in nature, experiencing worship that is meaningful and authentic, while not having to prepare your own meals or do your own dishes. Many campers think of camp as the best week of the year: heaven on earth.
To others, however, camp is scary, mostly because of how different it is. Nature can be intimidating, for those who haven’t spent much time in nature; for those who don’t realize that nature isn’t a separate thing from us, that we ourselves are, in fact, part of nature, and that we are one with the forest, with the all the creepy crawlies (which are creepy only in the sense that they creep along the ground), and everything else.
Camp is scary because, at camp, you experience a whole different daily routine than what you are probably used to. You’re surrounded by people who you may not know very well, even sharing sleeping accommodations with them. There is not much privacy: everyone knows when you go to the bathroom, how long you are in the bathroom, and what the bathroom smells like when you are done.
Here’s a little secret: everybody stinks up the bathroom now and then. It’s how God made us!
But the main reason that camp is so different is that, at camp, we are learning to live as an authentic Christian community—and an authentic Christian community is radically different from the way we live most of the time. Living an authentically Christian life, in community with others who are doing the same, is a countercultural activity. It is not what we are used to.
And, yes, that is scary. It calls us away from our comfort zone. It’s even scary, sometimes, for those who love camp.
⬤ I think of the early Christians, after the day of Pentecost: Thousands joined the movement, and the scripture says that they met together often, to learn more about this radically new way of living, to pray, to break bread, and to enjoy fellowship with one another.
And scripture says that, in the community they formed, worldly distinctions had no place. Your wealth, your status… even privileges one might enjoy because of one’s gender, or citizenship, or ethnicity, melted away, as the community followed the way of Jesus.
And scripture also says that the community they formed was so filled with love and compassion and a sense of oneness, that all the believers held all things in common.
It was radically different. New. Daring. And, for some, perhaps: scary.
My goal, as a director at camp, is to help campers see that the way we live at camp, in community with one another, is a glimpse into the way Christ calls us to live in the kingdom of God. It is life in the beloved community of God.
It is different, and that may scare some… but it is also so very wonderful.
This new life at camp prepares us for a new life in Christ, a new life in Christian community.
I always say that I go to camp, because it teaches me how to be a better pastor. I go to camp because it teaches me how to be a better Christian. I often reflect on the experiences I’ve had at camp, as a camper and as a counselor, and ponder what those experiences can teach me about how I’m supposed to live in this world the other 51 weeks of the year.
For example: I remember one particular day in my young adulthood when a lot of things in life were causing me stress and anxiety. I thought to myself: why does life have to be like this? Isn’t there a better way to live? Have I ever lived a life free from stress and anxiety?
And I did a little inventory of my life up to that point, trying to figure out when, in life, I felt most at peace, and least anxious.
And I realized it was when I was at camp.
And all of my personal belongings for those weeks at camp were what I could fit in a single duffle bag or suitcase, which made me realize that the happiest, most peaceful, and least stressful times in my life were when I had almost no personal belongings.
Camp really does call us to a new way of living.
However, it’s one thing to live that way while you’re at camp. It’s a whole other thing to live that way the rest of the year. It just seems too daring, too risky, too audacious… and what would the neighbors say?
It’s a lesson I haven’t yet fully implemented in my life. So, back to camp I go. I’ve still got some learning to do.
Maybe part of the issue is that, in the real world, I’m trying to implement this new way of living on my own. By myself.
But at camp, I’m part of a community, living together, learning together, having fun together, and facing life’s challenges together.
The camp curriculum notes that all the people we’ve encountered in scripture have been a part of a community, and relied on the support of others. Saul had Ananias. Cornelius had Peter. The daughters of Zelophehad had each other, as well as Moses and the other leaders who listened to them.
Even Jesus had John the Baptist, who prepared the way; and Jesus had his disciples, who, though they had their flaws, were committed to the same alternative vision for the world that Jesus himself was committed to.
Yet our world today is a world of isolation. The little bit I know of other cultures past and present makes me realize that our 21st century American culture is the most individualistic culture the world has ever known.
Our cities are even designed to reinforce this isolation. Housing developments are often built with attached garages and private backyards—like the house I currently live in—so that one could live there, go to work every day and come back home, and never even see your neighbors, never even know what they look like.
That’s why I’ve taken an interest in a group that calls itself Small Towns Blono, which is working to overcome the isolation many feel today, and help people in communities connect with one another. Their most recent project was a temporary art installation painted on sidewalks between the history museum and the Bloomington Library. The desire to connect people and communities was a major motivation for that project.
As individualistic as we are, we’re not used to living in community. Living in close community with one another—like we do at camp—is a whole new way of living.
Anytime you dare to live a new way—especially one as radically countercultural as the way of Jesus—there are risks involved.
⬤ Christ’s vision for the world is a radically inclusive and welcoming vision, which was demonstrated when those first disciples did away with the dividing lines of gender, class, and ethnicity, and when the Spirit led Peter to welcome Cornelius the Roman Centurion, and when the Spirit led Philip to welcome a man who was both a foreigner and a eunuch, and when the Spirit led Paul to focus his entire ministry on welcoming Gentiles into the movement as Gentiles, without requiring them to first become something they weren’t.
And when First Christian Church made the decision to boldly affirm its identity as an Open and Affirming Congregation, that also demonstrated Christ’s radically inclusive and welcoming vision for the world.
But anytime one dares to live a new way, there are risks. The early disciples faced many risks for living out their vision. Some outside their community just didn’t get it. Others were hostile toward it, and persecuted those early believers.
Yet the disciples persisted in their new way of living.
God is always calling us to a new way of living, to go beyond where we are now. There is no finish line; rather, it is an ongoing journey of learning and growing and becoming who God is calling us to be.
And this goes for us as a congregation as well.
The Spirit is restless, and we who follow the Spirit are always in a state of becoming.
God has done wondrous things in the 188-year history of First Christian Church. But we are on a journey. God is always leading us, just as God led the Israelites through the Promised Land.
It’s good to consider how far we’ve come, and how God has brought us to where we are. But if we say, “this is it; we’re done!” God is going to go on without us, and we’ll be left behind.
In conversations I’ve had with many of you over the past year and a half, I get the sense that you are feeling the Spirit calling us, leading us… You sense that God is trying to do a new thing among us, and with us… and some of you are wondering if we as a congregation will be bold enough, daring enough, to take the risk and follow the Spirit to wherever the Spirit is leading us next.
This new life that the Spirit is calling us to has implications for our style of worship, how we reach out to our community, how we use our building and/or make our building available to the community. It has implications for everything related to our ministry.
And if it means we need to change some things, well, there’s risk in that. There’s risk, just like there was risk in becoming an Open and Affirming congregation. There’s risk, just like when Ananias decided to reach out to Saul, or when the daughters of Zelophehad decided to speak up and demand their rights.
But there is also risk in doing nothing. There is risk in not reaching out, there is risk in not speaking up, and there is risk in not making changes as we seek to go where God is leading us.
I don’t have the answers to all these uncertainties. But I am going to camp; God may have some new lessons for me there.
And I know that wherever our journey leads, we have each other. None of us—not even I, your pastor—can do this alone.
Our church needs you. Your voice. Your prayers. Your commitment to the ministry we share.
That’s another thing I hope to teach my campers next week: that the church needs them. The church needs them just as the church needs each one of you.
I am so grateful to be on this journey with you. Thank you for praying for me; your prayers help me become the best pastor I can be, and to continue growing as a pastor, since I am always in a state of becoming;
Thank you for praying for our church, praying for God to continue guiding us to becoming the best church we can be—and that we might continue growing and journeying with God and with one another.
May we be willing to follow God’s Spirit wherever the Spirit leads us. May we be willing to take the risks that following God requires. And may we continue to come together, supporting one another with the love and encouragement that come from Christ.
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