A few days have passed since I got home after working with the Shrine
Mont camps. This year I was fortunate enough to work with three: Saint George’s
II, Senior High Youth Conference and Explorers II. Sharing the beauty of God’s
Creation and trying to motivate a sense of stewardship in campers is a blessing
that I am very grateful for. It is also a charge that I take very seriously and
try to undertake to the best of my ability. In fact, months of planning go into
the precious few hours that I get with the campers. But, even in God’s Country,
things do not always go according to plan – at least not mine.
July 12-13
I went to Shrine Mont to plan. There were many things to line up. I had
spent the previous months coordinating with various community partners and
Shrine Mont staff to line up hikes and service projects. Less than two weeks
remained before camp the camps started. Saint George’s was slated to remove
invasive plants from the Shrine Mont grounds in order to let native plants
return. The Senior High Youth Conference (SHYC) was to clear ground and build
raised planting beds at a community garden run by Saint Peter’s Lutheran Church
in Toms Book, Virginia. Explorers was set to hike to a swimming hole on Overall
Run in Shenandoah National Park. The day after that they were to conduct a
trash cleanup at Lake Laura.
When I got to Orkney Springs on Saturday the 12th there was a
buzz of activity. A lot of camps were in session and a large congregation from northern Virginia was visiting for a parish retreat.
I had two days to find invasive plants for St. G’s to cut, scout the
swimming-hole hike for Explorers and make the final arrangements for SHYC’s
community garden project. Most of this work could only be done in daylight so
those two days yielded only a few hours of opportunity. My frenzied pace added
to the din of activity on the Mountain.
I have to admit, much of that time, I was stressed and feeling a bit
cynical.
In spite of my pessimism, plans came together in that hurried 48 hours.
I found a broad stand of Japanese Stilt Grass on one of the trails. Yes, I was
actually happy to find an aggressive alien invader in Shrine Mont. It was an
opportunity for the campers to reverse a mistake of mankind and try to restore
a bit of balance to God’s Creation. I thought, not only could St. G’s cut back
the stilt grass but they could build a fire ring there and turn it into a
useable space. Later that day, I got lost three times, but I finally found the
swimming hole that Explorers would hike to. On Sunday morning I met with Paris
Ball and we finalized transportation plans for the SHYC community garden trip
and the Explorers hike. I was tired but my plans were set.
The rector of the visiting parish officiated the service at the Shrine
later that morning. The Gospel reading that day was the Parable of the Sower
from Mathew, chapter 13. Teaching from a boat on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus told
the story of the farmer who cast his seeds in a wide swath. Seeds that fell on
the road were eaten by birds and did not grow. Seeds that fell on rocky ground
immediately grew but were soon scorched by the hot sun. The seeds that fell
among the thorns were soon choked by vines. Only the seeds sown on rich soil
produced abundant fruit. Some of those produced many times over.
In his sermon, the rector confessed that even he did not know what make
of this passage at first. Jesus’ parables are not tales to be taken literally,
but metaphors to be interpreted. After some thought the rector concluded that
the path, the stones and the thorns represent the flaws in our hearts and minds
that prevent the Word of God from taking root in our soul. We need to work hard
to find the good soil in ourselves where the God can bring forth fruit.
This struck me hard. I have a bad habit of getting tangled in the thorns
and tripping on the stones in my heart. My pride and my selfish longing for
validation often cause me to misinterpret the actions of others. In fact, these
obstructions kept me away from the Church, and Shrine Mont, for years. Only
recently have I found my niche in the Church – my commitment to protecting
Creation. Tiny seeds of faith are again taking root in that soil. Even still, I
struggle to avoid the stones and thorns.
After the service I went back to my room in Maryland House and just sighed.
It was time to drive home.
July 22-27
I was back in Shrine Mont and ready to work on Tuesday, July 22. My wife
Heather and my son Dylan were with me this time. I had a vision of the perfect
week that lay ahead. Days of sowing seeds of stewardship in campers would be
followed by evenings of fellowship and bonding with my family. What happened
next was not what I expected.
In spite of all the arrangements, supplies arrived at the last minute,
or late, or not at all. Torrential rain caused the community garden project in
Toms Brook to be cancelled. Explorers got a late start on the morning of the
swimming-hole hike so I had to cut my presentation short. The canoes for the
Lake Laura cleanup, which were an unexpected and last-minute addition, never arrived.
The whole week required flexibility and a Plan B mentality. I was sure I had
let folks down. On Saturday morning I was physically and mentally exhausted. By
Sunday, I was tangled in the thorns and it was time to drive home.
It’s taken some time and distance to examine the experience objectively.
Every day is an opportunity to plant seeds. Like the farmer in the parable, you
can’t always control where they land. Campers are not aware of the planning and
logistical wrangling that go into the programs they participate in. They arrive
and they do. Volunteers and staff sweat the details and try to find the good
soil when obstacles get in the way. The important thing is that the campers get
the fruit.
When the rocks for the fire ring did not arrive as planned we had to
send some of the Saint George’s campers into the woods to gather some while
others pulled the stilt grass. In ninety minutes that had cleared a space and
built a fire ring large enough for a couple dozen campers to sit around. Later
that afternoon a mystery group of campers built small stone sculptures there as
an offering - or maybe it was a “thank you” gift.
When the community garden project in Toms Brook was cancelled at the
last minute because of muddy conditions, I met with the SHYC staff. We rallied
and put together Plan B. We hiked the campers out to Salt Peter Run at the base
of North Mountain. We found dozens of tiny creatures that make their home in
the rocky substrate of the pristine mountain stream. A casual glance at the creek
might make one thing that its stony bed is a sterile environment. In fact, it
is a vibrant habitat alive with innumerable organisms – proof that God’
creation is packed with abundance even in places you wouldn’t expect. That
afternoon we installed a rain barrel (it pays to have a few extra lying around)
at Stribling House. The rain barrel will reduce runoff and protect the resource
that harbors the bugs we played with that morning. Shrine Mont staff and SHYC
campers gathered firewood later that afternoon and placed seating logs around
the new fire ring that St’ G’s started the day before. It is a new space where
campers can gather and experience the outdoors.
The Explorers hike got off to a late start and we got to the swimming
hole behind schedule so we just let the campers play. Overall Run in Shenandoah
National Park is a breathtaking place. A series of clear, icy pools cascade
down the canyon and the leafy canopy dapples the water with specks of sunlight.
The campers joyfully devoured their time at the swimming hole as they jumped
off rocks and slid down waterfalls into the cool pools. After lunch we had a
few minutes to reflect on how one can experience God by connecting with
Creation. The next day, in spite of the heat and the absence of canoes, Explorers
collected a dozen bags of trash from the ditches and roadways that drain to
Lake Laura.
It is hard to see seeds take root amidst the noise and confusion of
marred plans. Now I just focus on my memory of the sights and sounds of campers
engaging with Creation. They were
happily unaware that they ended up in that place through a series of
disconnects and improvisations. The week certainly did not unfold as I planned.
If I learned anything, it is that I need to let go of my pride and have faith
that it turned out exactly as God intended.
I am absolutely sure of one palatable fruit that grew last week. Each
night, after working with the camps, I got to slow down and spend time with
Heather and Dylan. There was no television and no computer. We were just a
family in the most beautiful place on Earth. Sometimes we went fishing at the
Orkney Springs Pond, sometimes we caught fireflies. On Wednesday night Dylan
(age seven) caught his first fish – two actually. When I started to feel the
thorns near the end of the week, Dylan planted a new seed in me when he said,
“I love this place.”
We’ll be back.
