Takeaways from a Damaged Camporee
by Kris Coffin Stevenson | 28 August 2024 |
A sea of tents spread out from my view in either direction, following the contours of the rolling hills. They were broken only by the jutting white spires of larger tents—the shower and dining tents. And looming over it all, the massive, Egyptian-themed, million-dollar stage. If it weren’t for the stage, I might have thought I’d woken up in the middle of Gaza, or some other refugee camp, especially as my eyes were immediately drawn to the mounds of trash overflowing the dumpster and the horror on the faces of those exiting the portapotties.
It was my first international Pathfinder camporee in Gillette, Wyoming. And although I was expecting that it might be a challenge for someone like me long past the age of Pathfinders and used to sleeping on not one, but two memory foam mattresses, I wasn’t prepared for the issues of endless trash and overflowing potties and ravaging storms. I also wasn’t prepared for the exhibit hall. When I’d managed to make the marathon trek up to the main buildings and after I’d woven my way through all the outside food venders, I was startled to enter the hall to see the frenetic buying and selling of Pathfinder and Adventist religious paraphernalia, not to mention the pin trading. I have to admit I surreptitiously looked around to see if Jesus was about to start flipping over tables.
Just as we were almost finished drying out from the last thrashing storm to scour the campgrounds, the official word came that the camporee was ending a day early due to the threat of more storms. The unthinkable had happened. The camporee was over, and all of those amazing kids who’d spent years earning money and fighting the odds to arrive on time would now have to figure out how to get home a day early—and on Sabbath at that!
I’ll leave others to sort out the logistics and point fingers and make suggestions for the next big camporee. But here’s where my focus is: Can we harvest this teachable moment for our Pathfinders and ourselves to understand more about who God is, especially in times when things go wrong?
God’s protection
Arrogant Adventists have a habit of teaching that God only protects those who obey him. Our feeds are full of stories of how the storm split and went around the encampment, the fire burned up to the fence line of the school and petered out, the tornado left the church standing. These are all wonderful stories. But what happens when bad things happen and the storm doesn’t go around, like here in Gillette? What kind of God are we preaching then? This is tricky stuff. We have left the impression with our youth and members that God rewards physical protection for obedience to his commandments—especially the Sabbath commandment.
Jesus is clear that in this life we’re going to have trouble: “Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows” (John 16:33). David’s psalms show that even good people feel the oppression of the wicked, but God is there to rescue those that trust and love him, and will walk with them through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Paul says, “We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed” (2 Cor 4:8,9).
We are all subject to physical pain and eventually death in this world. Suffering comes in all of our lives. Just imagine the scars on the body of the Apostle Paul after all the times he was stoned and flogged. But God promises that he will be with us, and we will not be destroyed by evil in a spiritual sense. Psalm 91 says, “No evil will conquer you” (verse 10). God offers spiritual protection to those that love him.
Yet we still revel in stories of protection for rule keepers. What are we saying to those whose houses were leveled in the tornado? To those whose properties were left in smoking ruins after the fire? Are we saying that God loves them less or not at all? What are we teaching our children by this? Shame on Adventists who preach that God protects only people who keep the commandments and don’t break the Sabbath. Yet I have still heard this preached by prominent Seventh-day Adventist leaders.
As we were preparing to flee the camporee ahead of the next line of ferocious storms, I was approached by a lady concerned that we were traveling on the Sabbath. “Isn’t this an ox in the ditch moment?” I asked her. “We have minor children in our care. Do you want to tell their parents that we didn’t move to safety when we had the chance because we were afraid of breaking the Sabbath?” I also heard that other people were smirking about staying on the campground over the Sabbath and receiving a Sabbath blessing when others had left. I would have preferred to have a peaceful Sabbath instead of riding 20 hours on a bus, but do we honestly think God is going to punish us for heeding the warnings about an incoming storm in order to protect children?
The blessing of perseverance
Living through a crisis is exhausting. You have to dig deep for energy, courage, and the ability to pivot. It requires creativity, ingenuity, resilience, and perseverance. Because we don’t normally live in situations that require physical demands outside of sports or exercise, having to “rough it” or living without the usual comforts is stressful
Pathfinders exists to point kids to Jesus and help them learn new skills, like how to camp. In a tough situation like the camporee presented, a takeaway for our Pathfinders is that sometimes you have to endure. When you’re wet, cold, muddy, tired, hurting, and hungry, it’s hard to keep going, especially with a good attitude.
One year when I worked on the staff at summer camp, our director had us learn this text from James as our theme text. We would stumble in for staff worship early in the morning, hair askew, eyes half open, and mumble our way through the group recitation of the text.
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).
Sometimes you have to suck it up, hold tight to God, and keep going when you don’t feel like it. Why? Because you can be the blessing and the help for others who are less strong when life is difficult.
Growing compassion
There’s no way to feel any kind of empathy for others unless you’ve had a similar experience. Did I mention that I felt like I was living in a refugee camp? Now, I don’t want to equate my situation with the horrors of living in Gaza or Ukraine or the Sudan during a regional conflict, shuddering from the pounding of shells, and wondering where the basics of food, shelter, and water are going to come from.
However, for pampered American teens, this was a hard shock to the system. After all of our gear had been packed into the semi-truck to be transported home, our bus was delayed for twelve hours. Our group had no equipment and nowhere to sleep. I overheard one of our teens comment, “I feel homeless.” It’s hard to understand those feelings of instability and insecurity unless you’ve lived some of them yourself.
In this teachable moment, giants of compassion can be born; young people may determine their career and life choices from a situation in which their eyes were opened to the suffering of others and their power to do something about it. They can understand that some people will have their lives uprooted through no fault of their own and need assistance to rebuild.
As our Pathfinders come streaming home with their stories of how camporee went, and in the future as we interact with our children and youth in crisis situations, let’s pray that their conversation will not be focused on the storms, but on the God who is the Creator of everything. That they will not be concerned about how perfect things went, but how well Christ’s attitude was displayed and how they could be helpful. Let’s encourage them to see a God who loves each one of us and has promised to walk with us through life’s storms, and who’s not eager to withhold protection if we’ve broken a rule.
Stories of towering trash, unsanitary conditions, and frightening storms may be vivid conversation fodder, but even more compelling are the stories of those following in the Spirit’s leading who put their needs aside for the good of the camp to haul trash, clean toilets, rebuild tents, and take care of all the grimy, uninteresting details that need to be done in order to provide a pleasant experience for all. I see you. I salute you.
And now I will sink deeply into my memory foam and dream of sparkling clean bathrooms.
Kris Coffin Stevenson is living the first part of her eternal life with her husband in Tucson, Arizona. She has a newfound love for ocotillo and saguaro. You can follow her writing at www.bthelove.net or bthelove on Facebook.
