Fuzzy Theology

By this point in the story, you may be thinking, “Surely, nothing else could go wrong. These poor campers are only out in the woods for a week!”

And you’d be thinking wrong.

Because in the midst of us scaring priests, braving the rapids, and seeing phantom pirates, we were also fighting battles of another – more nefarious – sort.

Because at this high adventure camp, survival wasn’t a guarantee.

If you’re new to our story, be sure to check out the first episode by clicking here. And get your rosaries ready for a spooky tale.

Recalling back to our arrival at camp, I should have known our adventures were doomed. Now, it wasn’t like the foreshadowing you see in stereotypical horror movies as unsuspecting campers arrive at camp.

There wasn’t a creaky sign about to fall of its hinges or a strange neighbor slowly shaking their head as our bus rattled by. Ominous crows didn’t caw as we tumbled haplessly from the bus. Lightning didn’t strike and thunder didn’t roar when we met the owner of the camp.

There were no obvious signs of the danger we were in.

Besides, we weren’t looking for signs. We were looking for adventure.

But what we did have were words of warning from the camp owner.

“There are things in the woods.”

If you’re an English teacher, I know you’re cringing at that sentence (in addition to my somewhat awkward grammar).

Things.

Things and stuff.

They’re just vague enough to excite any imagination – let alone the imaginations of over 100 teens and their chaperones.

Things covered a lot of potential hazards.

Wildlife, poison ivy, hallucinogenic tree moss, Big Foot, and all manner of other creepy, crawly, not-so-friendly biting/stinging/spraying organisms. The list was endless, and without proper instruction (or at the very least a less vague description) we were out in the wilderness on our own.

Or so we thought.

Can you imagine the emotions David felt minutes before entering into battle with Goliath armed only with a simple slingshot for protection? Or how Samson’s heart sank when Delilah cut off his hair? Or what was going through Moses’ mind when he first approached the Red Sea with the Egyptians on his heels and the fate of his people on his shoulders?

That weight.

That pressure.

Knowing we were responsible for the teens in our care, to protect them from whatever thing may be in the forest. But if I know youth ministers, we are always up for an adventure.

And no matter what happened, it would be an adventure.

“Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure.”

Pope Saint John Paul II

Our first night at camp found us huddled around small campfires, roasting s’mores and singing praise and worship songs. It was a beautiful night, with the stars shining brightly overhead – brighter than they would have in our hometown. The lights from the fire lit the valley, but not the paths to our cabins.

No, the tree-choked paths to our cabins were dark, save for a few dimly flickering bulbs dangling perilously above the front doors. And let’s be honest, calling them cabins was being nice. They were more plywood sheets held together with duct tape and hope. We called it a character building experience, but whose character we were building? I couldn’t say.

Someone, of course, started a rumor there were bears in the woods. After the ominous message from the camp owner, we all believed it.

But it wasn’t bears we had to worry about.

As we trudged exhaustedly back to our cabins, we noticed something a little strange.

A pair of red underwear laying in the middle of the path.

Now, underwear isn’t inherently nefarious – maybe stinky at times and occasionally gross. But as we were on the first day of our trip, the likelihood that this pair was freshly laundered was high.

But, even potentially freshly laundered, no one wanted to claim them.

How they appeared in the middle of the path remained a mystery…

For the moment.

And so they stayed as teen after teen and adult after adult marched by heading for our cabins.

Until a second pair appeared.

Followed by another.

And a t-shirt.

And shoes.

And finally, an entire bag.

It became obvious what happened. Either one of our members had succumbed to their exhaustion, stripping off their clothes and bolting into the woods to face whatever things were out there.

Or the things in the woods had paid us a visit.

It was an uneasy and late night by the time we gathered all of the loose clothing and returned them to their rightful – slightly embarrassed – owner.

This feeling of unease grew even as we sat during Daily Mass the following morning. Thoughts of our cabins back at camp, of the things in the woods who had most likely come to visit took our minds from the message of the Mass. We were clearly a distracted group.

And when we arrived back at camp, our worries were not unfounded.

Because standing in my cabin, holding one of our bags, hands rifling through it for anything of value, wasn’t a thing but a person.

You see, the owner of the camp wasn’t trying to warn us about bears, or tree moss, or quick sand.

No, they were trying to warn us about the potential of getting robbed.

Twice.

And while the first time they’d only managed to embarrass one of our teens.

The second time, they’d gotten away with the few small things we’d brought to camp with us.

Truly, this adventure was doomed.

The shift in attitude was immediate. The undercurrent of worry colored each of our activities while the chaperones scrambled to make sure someone stayed at base camp at all times to protect it.

We paired off in groups of two like the Disciples and prayed that was the last time we came face to face with the people who’d broken into our cabins. How we’d ever find the peace of a well-planned retreat was beyond me – especially as some of our chaperones fashioned large walking sticks to carry with them.

They were a reminder that while we had taken a step away from the world to connect with each other and to draw closer to Christ.

The world had not taken a step away from us.

Nor should it.

There are many bible passages and quotes from the saints which remind us that we are not of this world. That we were created by God and are called to a higher purpose. We are called to live in this world, but not of this world.

But it’s that first part, we sometimes forget.

Because living in this world means more than going to Mass and saying our daily intentions. It means more than offering prayers for those who are sick or suffering around us. In our cities, in our towns, in our communities, and even in our own homes.

Yes, prayer is important.

Prayer is the beginning of the relationship.

But it is not the end.

“For just as a body without a spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.”

– James 2:26

In this relationship, God calls us to action.

To service.

To work.

We are not idle participants, or passive players. God has not kept us on the bench. We are a spirit moving.

And while I may never know the circumstances that led to the person standing in my cabin that day, I know that for one person somewhere I can make a difference by living God’s calling. In life and in ministry.

And in action.

With prayer as my guide.

“Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

– Saint Mother Teresa

I feel blessed you have joined me for this next episode of Adventures in Youth Ministry. I would love to hear about your calling and your actions. You are in my prayers!