On Arrival

We're here at Camp Pinnacle in the beautiful Helderberg Mountains just outside of Albany. The view from the camp is incredible, especially at the various lookout points around the acreage. Last night we went to one such point called "Sunset," so called for its spectacular view of the evening sky at dusk. It's a little bit of a hike, and even my dog was huffing and puffing and limping a bit by the time we reached the summit; but the view was well worth it. That was the hi-light.

The down and dirty of the day was that we had no real place prepared for us when we arrived at camp. The two bedroom apartment we had been shown and were promised is currently being used by a lovely missionary family whom we had the pleasure of meeting on Saturday. Apparently the family has been occupying the apartment since February, and will stay on indefinitely. They have three daughters, two twins aged five, and the youngest who is now three. Katie and Beth were enchanted with the girls already, and Bill and I truly enjoyed our shared lunch with the parents. They are wonderful people, and we would never dream of asking them to vacate the place for us. We did, however, begin to feel like the unwanted relatives when there was no place ready for us to stay.

Bill had called ahead and spoken to the pastor's wife to let her know we would arrive 2 days earlier than planned. We reminded her that we were bringing our dog, and asked again what we would need to bring for our housing, and what would be included (ie: linens, pots and pans, etc.) The answers were somewhat vague, but we were assured that there was a roomy RV for us, and that all we needed was our clothing and ourselves. Meals would be provided. Although we were doubtful about the RV working for a family of 4 plus a dog through the whole summer, we believed that God would provide. When we pulled in to camp on Saturday, we met a flustered pastor's wife who confessed she wasn't sure we were coming that day and a pastor totally in the dark about our early arrival. We were shown a small RV with no beds ready for our use and a single sized futon which we were encouraged to use in lieu of the double bed in the bedroom that had no linens. And where were the girls and dog to sleep?

We were then shown a tiny cabin with taller weeds, and more trash and rusted out appliances on the front lawn than a Jeff Foxworthy skit. I'm not kidding. Inside the cabin there was a mini fridge with a chunky gallon of milk and scary stains all over the inside. There was a shower stall with black mold all over the floor and along every fixture. There was a doubtful looking mattress and box spring resting on a broken bookshelf and blocks of wood. Finally, there was someone else's garbage and clothing left in all the drawers, closets, and shelves available, not that there were many. Although Vickie was apologetic and offered to clean the place for us, I refused and told her we were capable of cleaning. I knew she was busy with a conference that day and the many other responsibilities she shared with her husband to keep the place running. In spite of my assurances, inside we felt deflated. Didn't they want us here? Were they trying to make things so uncomfortable that we would give up and go home? The temptation to turn around and drive the 16 hours back to South Carolina was very real.

Instead, we rolled up our sleeves and worked hard all day yesterday after church. We scrubbed and dumped, moved and scrounged, and provided our own meals because, surprise, there were no meals offered Sunday through Wednesday. We spent close to $200 at Walmart and other stores to help fill in the gaps with food, and needed gear. Thankfully, Bill's mom came through big time with the offer of a coffee pot, a fan, and some plastic cups and a pitcher she wasn't using. After hours of cleaning, as well as moving and replacing all the unsuitable furniture, the place didn't seem so bad. In fact, we were quite proud of what our efforts had wrought. Wild flowers in a vase sit on a clean table on the porch. A clean desk, refrigerator, living room, bedroom, and bathroom now all smell wonderfully fresh. The shower floor, to our surprise, turned out to be white! More importantly, during this whole process, we were broken and humbled.

God reminded us yesterday that we came to this camp to serve him, not to be served by others. It's a good lesson at the beginning of a summer full of long days, hard work, and ultimately ministry in the lives of campers and staff. We are once again feeling privileged to be here. A big thank you to those of you who are praying for us this summer. God is already beginning to work!

Comparative Christianity

I read something my old friend Kristen had posted the other day on facebook which sparked yet another reverie. Her comments were in regards to "cultural Christianity," a topic familiar to most of us who have been Christians for any length of time. The theory is that much of our belief system is based more upon the puritan foundations of our culture, than it is based upon the word of God. Although there is real merit to this idea, I find myself wondering if it is an altogether "new" phenomenon particular to Christian Americans.

Throughout the new testament there are instances of Christ confronting this same human tendency. It is legalism. In many of his discussions with Jewish scholars of his day, Jesus pointed out the errors of their belief system, which had been originally based on the word of God, and then degenerated into "rules taught by men." Even before Christ walked the earth, the Israelites were in a constant pattern of sin, judgement, and repentance. This pattern was repeated endlessly because the rabbis and teachers of the law were concerned with looking more "holy" than the next guy, instead of confronting the sinful tendencies within. Jesus tells us exactly what he thought about legalism when he called these religious leaders "white-washed tombs."

In American Christianity, Kristen mentions that this legalism often takes on the mantra, "Don't drink, smoke or chew, or run with girls that do." Legalism cripples us as Christians because we cannot effectively witness and minister to others when we are inwardly condemning and comparing their behavior to our own. True ministry will not take place; we are so busy feeling superior that we aren't motivated by the love that Jesus says is essential. Within this framework of comparative Christianity, we cannot possibly love the Lord with all our heart, mind, and strength and our neighbor as ourselves. We would rather love the way we look when juxtaposed with other sinners. It stifles spiritual growth to say, "I may have problems, but at least I don't... (fill in the blank)."

What a comforting thinking pattern! There is a convincing hint of humility in the ready admission of our problems, but in reality it is an attempt at justifying our sin. It is an intentional quenching of the Holy Spirit, who is trying to move and work in our lives to make us more like Christ. He is the only One with whom we should compare ourselves, and that comparison will always leave us broken and humbled, ready to be changed by the work of the Spirit. When we recognize our false humility for what it is, then real ministry can begin. We walk hand-in-hand to the feet of Jesus, knowing that we are all in desperate need of his grace. A mentor once summed it up succinctly when he told me, "brokenness is the only place where God can use you."