By the Rev. Mary Brennan Thorpe
Who are your favorite theologians? Aquinas? Augustine? Karl Barth? Richard Hooker? Gustavo Gutierrez? They’re all great, but I have to say, after spending twelve days serving as chaplain to senior high school students and their counselors at Music and Drama camp, I’d nominate Evelyn and Hannah and Eugene and LJ and Keyondrè, among others. No, they haven’t gone to seminary. They haven’t published articles in scholarly journals. They most likely wouldn’t identify themselves as theologians. But they are theologians, without a doubt. The third session of MAD Camp did something a little different this year. They did a show and they took it on the road, as usual. But rather than using a stock musical production with a religious theme, they wrote their own show. They took it to different venues, with a different purpose than in the past. To put it briefly, they wrote something that reflected their deeply held belief that they are each beloved sons and daughters of God – “I am enough” – and that they were capable, through their own gifts, of changing the world in a particular way. How did they get there? To be sure, the director of the camp, Ashley Isenhower, the program director, Cullen Dolsen, and the creative team who worked with them were a large part of the project. But the young people rapidly made this project their own, in their enthusiastic embrace of the underlying notion that each of us is given gifts by God that can be used to make this a better world and in their writing of the spoken-language parts of the script. But to help find the language for what this was all about, we conducted a variety of theological reflections in Chaplain’s Time, in evening reflection, in meditation time. And here’s where it got fun. Take it as a given that each of us finds our way to an understanding of God and our relationship with the Divine in a unique and personal journey. For some of us it is in seeing the models of others around us whom we admire. For others, it is in music that breaks our hearts and touches our souls. For others still, it is in visual arts or in nature, in poetry and in literature, in God’s word in the Bible and in the powerful and prophetic words of great souls. Still others respond to the wonders of the created universe. So if we wanted to facilitate conversations about what it means to be beloved, to be gifted by God, to be capable of prophetic witness, to be agents of comfort and change, and if we only had a few days to be able to write and live into that reality, we had to use all the ways that human beings make that journey to help these young people. So one morning was spent doing something that many middle school science classes do: an egg drop, where a team has to devise a construction that will allow a raw egg to be dropped from a height without breaking the shell. What does that have to do with God? On the face of it, not much. But when we started talking about how each team had people with different skills and approaches. One was driven by a playful esthetic – their effort was entitled “Toby-Wan-Ken-Eggy” and greatly resembled the Jedi knight, complete with light saber. Another was architectural: the team came up with a cage superstructure made of straws, with the egg wrapped and suspended in the middle. Another was all about the physics, with shock absorbing space and inflated Ziploc bags to protect the cargo. As we reflected upon what the design process was like, it became obvious that the different gifts of the team members played out in unique ways – all were appreciated, all were useful, all necessary to counterbalance the other members of each team. And each team’s egg successfully survived a drop from the second floor balcony of Virginia House. This led to a session in which we took a “spiritual gifts assessment.” There were some surprises as the kids discovered things they didn’t know about themselves , but which were affirmed by their fellow campers. Of course Joe was full of compassion. Of course LJ was a preacher. One evening we did an exercise called “Box Fort.” The campers were divided into three teams. Each team was to create a home out of their given resources that could house the entire team. Team 1 was given huge amounts of resources, the second a modest amount of resources, the third hardly any. There was the possibility that this could devolve into whining and complaining by those who had less, maybe even some pilfering, or the richer group lording it over the others. But something odd and wonderful happened. One member of Team 1 (who comes from the most challenging and modest backgrounds) asked one of the counselors early on if he could just give some of their resources to Teams 2 and 3. He was given permission to do so. He gave some away and did very modest trades, where what was offered in trade was much less in value that what he gave. The least resourced group was willing to make personal sacrifices – a pair of shoes, for example – to get a couple of needed resources. All three groups were playful and focused on their own task, not in comparing their situation with others. When the “houses” were evaluated, they were applauded by the other teams. Something was going on here: the work at hand was more important than comparing with each other. And again, there was recognition that the variety of gifts in the team made it possible to come up with creative solutions that any one individual might not have discovered. Later we did exercises that talked about how these young people were situated in their world, by taking a “privilege walk.” All began standing in a single line across the Ladies’ Parlor in Virginia House. Then a series of statements were made which would identify privileges that some of us had (take a step forward) and that some of us did not have (take a step back.) It became evident that even in a seemingly relatively homogeneous group like Shrine Mont campers, there were differences. Some of us had more privileges than others. The notion of essential fairness – that some of us cannot succeed as we might wish simply because of where we were born, what our parents had, how we were educated – led to a rich conversation and reflection of Jesus and the many passages in the Gospel that talk about Jesus’ desire to care for those who do not have privileges. The campers recognized how Jesus transfers that desire into our hearts, so that we might want to help as well. Other exercises focused on teamwork – how would the walk on the road to Emmaus differed if Cleopas had gone alone? – and on the power of prayer to sustain us when doing the hard work of faith-based social justice. We lived into the story of the feeding of the five thousand in Chimborazo Park in Richmond, near neighbors who do not have enough to eat. These young people lived theology in a thousand different ways. In reflection, in projects, in song and dance, in working with little children at Peter Paul Development Center’s “Clara’s Camp” at Roslyn. They preached it. They grew deeper in it. They celebrated it. Theologians. They don’t just write about it. They live it. The nineteen campers and nine staff of MAD Camp III will forever be my favorite theologians, and I believe they will change the world, one song, one hug, one word at a time.
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By Bishop Susan Goff We're all in this together. The tune from High School Musical blared out from the speakers as a camper danced on stage and sang along. His joyful offering in the talent show embodied the lyrics of his favorite song: "Everyone is special in their own way We make each other strong We're not the same We're different in a good way Together's where we belong." It was the last night of St. Elizabeth's Camp, our program for teens and young men and women who are part of the largest minority group in the U.S. - persons with disabilities. The 26 campers this year are among the millions of Americans who live with intellectual and cognitive disabilities and who, because of the ways they are different from the majority, are all too often made invisible. But at St. E's, as buddies with "majority" teens, they were truly seen as they formed the center of a community of love, support and joy. It was the most diverse camp on the mountain. It is the most diverse every year as it includes the largest percentage of minority persons of any camp. The joy that came when participants recognized and celebrated differences, without making judgments about those differences, gave us a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. Our differences, after all, don't divide us - it's our judgements about our differences that divide us. During the four days of camp, distinctions were made so that each person could be at his or her best. Differences were acknowledged so that all could participate fully in their own unique ways. Limitations were noted but not allowed to get in the way. The weight we humans so easily attach to differences melted away as everyone, everyone, everyone was recognized as a beloved child of God. Leading and supporting the godly work of building community across differences for the past fifteen years has been the Rev. Laura Lockey. Laura began this ministry thinking she would do it for a year until someone "more suited" was identified. In God's surprising way, though, the call to Laura was clarified and she answered it faithfully year after year. At the end of this year's camp, Laura announced her resignation from this vital role. With tears and hugs, campers, staff and families offered heartfelt thanks for all Laura gave, and they prayed for blessings on the new ways God will call her. Her compassion, good sense and relational spirit have helped shape a camp culture that is a clear and strong reflection of God's Kingdom, right here on earth. While the St. Elizabeth's community will miss her, she leaves behind the legacy of a program that, God willing, will continue to be the most diverse camp on the mountain as it supports minority persons for generations to come. By Virginia Lee
Music Director of Music and Drama Camp Music and Drama Camp III is a special experience. Not only do we put on a full-length show in a week, but we also take said show on tour in “that valley of the world.” With so much to do in such a small amount of time, MAD Camp can feel like a blur. A loud, exciting, dreamlike blur where time is counted meticulously and schedules strictly adhered to. While I wouldn’t trade the rush of rehearsal and tour, the schedule left little time for reflection. This year, the Program Director of MAD III, the spectacular Cullen Dolson, decided to remedy this problem by changing the daily schedule of MAD III to include meditation time. After countless years with the same schedule, it was an odd adjustment for many veteran counselors and campers. However, it turned out to be just what MAD Camp needed to grow and evolve. Every day for an hour after rest period, the whole camp would meditate in a variety of ways: walking the labyrinth, writing reflections, relaxation exercises, etc. The campers loved it, and at the end of the day there were always a few campers who listed meditation as their high of the day, a sure mark of success if there ever was one. I had the privilege of leading one such meditation period, which I found to be an incredibly rewarding and profound experience. It was the day before we left Shrine Mont to begin our tour, and Cullen was off for the day. I had eagerly volunteered, although I had no specific plan in mind. As soon as he said “Okay”, I was at a standstill. I didn’t want to do a writing reflection. They’d had enough of that. We were a week into camp, the campers were stressed, and the show was teetering on the edge of just-ready-enough and beautiful-chaos status. You could feel the anxiety in the air of camp, and the sense of urgency as we rushed to prep the show. As Music Director of MAD Camp, I felt this unease just as much as the campers. Writing didn’t seem like the right fit for our state of unrest at that movement. Then, the solution hit me. Finger painting. Now, before you scoff, hear me out. Finger painting may sound silly and juvenile, but it can also be fantastically visceral and emotional. The direct contact between oneself, the paint, and the paper allows for freedom and expression in an abstract and beautiful way. The meditation went something like this: The campers were asked to silently take a seat in the Art Cabin. The tables were prepared with large strips of butcher paper and pallets containing paints of a variety of colors. The campers looked at each other with a mixture of bewilderment and giddiness. They sat silently, waiting. They breathed together, slowly, with a Spotify playlist of Yoga music playing in the background. I asked them to close their eyes and imagine their fears and worries. I asked them to envision the word “stress” and picture a color in their mind. What did it look like? What was the color? They opened their eyes and created their “stress color” with the paints provided. They put it to paper, and freely painted away the negativity that inhabited their body. They were asked to leave it all on the paper, to feel their stress leaving their fingertips. Shades of brown, dark purple, and deep reds appeared in large blobs; intimidating storm clouds of stress, overwhelming and incoherent, took over large portions of the paper. When they were done, I asked them to stop painting. Breath in. Breathe out. Listen to the music. Breathe in relaxation. Breath out stress. I asked them to close their eyes again and to imagine themselves. I asked them to envision their soul, their mind, and their emotions at this moment, and to assign a color to their state of mind. They opened their eyes and began painting once more. This time, results were colorful, specific, varied. Symbols and images of specific things took shape. Some campers incorporated their self-portrait image with their stress image, blending them together. At one point, the music switched to the theme music for “Avatar, the Last Air Bender”, causing many in the room (including myself) to laugh, easing the intense, emotional silence. The awkwardness of complete silence to listening caused them to paint more freely, and with more joy. As they finished, I asked them to stop painting, and lay their palms open on the table. Breath in. Breathe out. Listen to the music. Open your hands. I told them to look at their hands, covered in paint. I told them this messy array of colors was important. Because sometimes when we make ourselves, when we grow up, things get messy. Our hands will get dirty, and that’s okay. One camper made the observation that as she worked with the paints, she had created unplanned but beautiful shades of blue on her hands. They were so pretty, she said, that she incorporated them into her painting. She made the observation that life can be like that, full of accidental moments of beauty. I told them to look at their self-portraits. Were they clear pictures, or were they abstractions. Was everything connected, or were symbols painted independently? What did this say about them? One camper made the observation that they had compartmentalized the images of stress and of themselves. Another had done a sort-of splatter paint style, because she felt messy and undeveloped. Another had made a giant green heart, which had completely covered his stress image. It was important to know that everyone deals with stress differently, both in painting and in real life. And that while it’s an inevitable part of the human condition, stress does not define us. It is the frame with which we view our lives. It is a cloud that over-tops our lives at a given moment. But we are the light, and we shine through. It was also important to note that each camper’s work was unfinished. It would always be unfinished, as they themselves were. And that’s okay. That’s beautiful. It is perfect in it’s flawed incompleteness. We are beyond completion. We are much, much more because we are loved as children of God. Close your eyes. Breath in. Breathe out. Breath in love. Breathe out love. By Lorne Field
Explorers Camp has a knack for finding God in unusual places. They are explorers after all. Two weeks ago twenty five campers and their counselors descended into a rocky creek valley near the base of North Mountain and stood ankle-deep in the frigid water. Armed with D-frame, telescoping nets and their bare hands, the explorers discovered an abundance of life under the cold, hard stones of Salt Peter Run. From the surface, the creek looks devoid of life. It is narrow and rocky and not deep enough to accommodate fish. Under the rocky substrate however, it is teeming with: tadpoles, crayfish, larvae of stoneflies, crane flies, dragonflies; and best of all, case-making caddis flies, tiny insects that spin silk and use it to tie together pebbles and sticks to make their own shelter. These organisms are indicative of pollution-free waters and proof that God has planted life in every nook and cranny of Creation. The Explorers also know that even though life is abundant, it is volatile. People can change a creek habitat in a flash. We frequently add new creatures to a stream without knowing it. The introduced animals are many times smaller than the larvae of caddis flies and they spread illness. E coli. bacteria originate in the intestines of warm-blooded animals and has unfortunately appeared on several occasions in the other little creek that runs through Orkney Springs. Man-made sources: farms, sewers and even pets are frequently at the root of a bacteria impairment. Service to God is a major theme at Explorers Camp and stewardship of Creation is part of that. That is where Explorers got “sciencey”. Try to follow along… The campers collected water samples at five different points on the creek, mixed each with a catalytic auger, poured the samples into Petri dishes and incubated them for 24 hours at 95 degrees Fahrenheit in a farm incubator to grow cultures of tiny reproducing creatures. The next day they counted the cultures and recorded the data. This was done to find potential hot spots where E. coli might be entering the creek. It will give Shrine Mont staff baseline information when making decisions about infrastructure improvements and maintenance. Yep, these really are camp activities and they all boil down to embracing our duty to be caretakers of Eden. So, the Explorers don’t just go camping (not that camping isn’t a spiritual experience in its own right). Here are some photos to prove that science and camp go hand in hand. By Ruth Shuford When someone says, “Go to your happy place,” where do you picture yourself? For me, it’s the top of North Mountain. If you’ve ever hiked there during a visit to Shrine Mont, whether as a camper, counselor, or on a church retreat, you’ll understand when I say that there’s nothing quite like the view. You know what isn’t my happy place? Three quarters of the way up the trail to the top of North Mountain. Trust me- it can be a challenge, but it’s always worth it. Suddenly the path flattens out, and after clambering onto the rocky outcrop you’re struck the sight of an endless verdant landscape tumbling out in hills and valleys and the blue-hued mountains fading into the horizon. Far below you, you can see the tiny white patchwork of Shrine Mont buildings nestled into the side of a hill. Last week, I made a weather report over the radio to all camp staff. Sitting in the camp office and equipped with the infallible data of my phone’s weather app, I advised anyone listening that there was about a fifty percent chance of rain in the next couple of hours. Seconds later a response came, fuzzy with static: “This is Explorer’s Camp up at the top of North Mountain. It looks like you guys have got, like, a one hundred percent chance of rain in the next five minutes.” Sure enough, five minutes later I was looking out the window as everything outside became thoroughly drenched. Explorer’s had seen the storm cloud moving across the landscape before it even hit us, while the satellites informing my phone app had failed. That’s how vast the view is from the top from the mountain. It gives you a whole new perspective, literally and figuratively. When I hiked to the top of North Mountain today with St. George’s Camp, I could hear that reflected in the words of the campers I talked with. They all seemed to agree that while the hiking was “exhausting,” the whole world just feels “different” once you reach the top. Moments when we feel small like that, looking out on a vast landscape, are a visceral reminder that we are, each of us, one small yet irreplaceable part in a much larger system. Explorer’s Camp, who also hiked to the top of North Mountain today, has been focusing on seeking God in three ways: through each other, through themselves, and through His creation, or nature. They’ve been using the image of a tree as a metaphor for that idea, where each of the ways we can see God is a new branch. It’s only when you take a step back that you realize that the branches aren’t really separate after all. You, me, the green rolling hills of the Shenandoah valley- we’re all part of one tree. It’s only in places like the top of North Mountain that you can see in true clarity the interconnectedness of all of God’s creation and our spiritual connection with the world around us. By Ruth Shuford
Explorer's Session I held their closing worship on Sunday. Throughout the week they focused on seeking God through each other, themselves, and God's creation around them. Over the course of the week they hiked to North Mountain, the Cross, and Seven Springs, had a pool party and a paint fight, and enjoyed a dance party under the Happy Pavilion with MAD Camp and SHYC. One integral part of Explorer's I was chaplain's time, where campers learned to experience moments of quiet reflection through meditation. We hope to see this fun group of campers next year! |
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The view from the mountainSpreading the good news of Shrine Mont Camps into the Valley of the World.
AuthorsThe View from the Mountain is written by a rotating cast of staff writers and contributors. Archives
September 2018
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