#338. The last night cry fest at camp.
Jul 10th by Jon
The other day I got an email about possibly speaking in Ireland. I would love to do that and think it would be hilarious to do the first Stuff Christians Like roadshow, which does involve Skittles but not eagles, in Ireland instead of Atlanta where I am from. But I have a serious question for all of you, do I have to make people cry on the last night of the speaking engagement?
That is how camp was for me. There were a few things that you knew were going to happen every year:
1. A prank would get out of control and I would have to apologize to several people.
2. The cooks would cover food with a layer of cheese to make you think you hadn’t eaten the same thing the day before.
3. The main speaker would make you cry on the last night.
Now, I have to make a distinction about the crying. There are really two types when it comes to the last night:
1. Camp is over.
This is when you cry because you are going to miss everyone you hung out with. You go ahead and pretend that you’ll stay close throughout the year and you’ll email and pray for each other, but you won’t. You’ll add them on facebook, cry when they sing “Friends are Friends forever” and then go home an completely, almost instantaneously forget about ole what’s her name. It’s like Toad the Wet Sprocket sang in “Walk on the Ocean,” “We said we’d send letters and all those little things. They knew we were lying. They smiled just the same.”
2. The elbow of guilt.
This is when you cry because the main speaker drops an elbow of guilt on you. He or she has had you on the ropes all week, doing some solid ministering building up slowly to the main event, but on Saturday night they unleash their A game. This is the moment when they ask you to lay something down at the foot of the cross. Or give something to God, which is of course either your CDs or your boyfriend.
So I guess my question is, do you want to cry if I come speak? I mean, I can make it happen. I’ll probably lead off by doing a few minutes of silence where I just have words written on big note cards. I’ve seen that cardboard testimonies video a lot. (An inspiration they might have gotten from Brandon Heath, who took it from INXS, who took it from Bob Dylan.) But my version is going to be like that scene from the movie “Love Actually.” And then, I’ll probably tell you a touching story about my pet rabbit that died, Elizabeth Floppystill III, saving the life of an elderly woman in my neighborhood. Then I’ll show you pictures of my kids and play the syrupy song “Butterfly Kisses.” And then I’ll end by saying God wants you to give up your Wii’s and Xboxes, to me.
It is going to be awesome.
p.s. Yes, that is Dawson. Joey dumped him after camp. It was brutal.
Comments
For three decades I’ve been in vocational ministry, and have spent over three years of my life as a camp speaker. i concur with many of your observations.
Though I think camp is a wondrous place for the Spirit to work, it is also a dangerous place for (perhaps unintentionally) spiritual manipulation to take place to produce “decisions” that don’t stand the test of reentry into the “real” world.
Camp is much like R&R when I was in Nam; one day getting shot at, the next on a plane to Australia to party hearty but in the back of the mind is the countdown to back to the battle zone.
So is camp an “unreal” place…and woe be those counselors/speakers who press for decisions rather than ask the Spirit to honor His Word and prayer and significantly, and lastingly, impact students’ lives.
Again, after speaking for about 180 weeks of camp, I am very much “for” effective camp ministry, but effectiveness is NOT measured by “body counts,” but by the One who sees hearts.
Last year at the summer camp the kids from my church go to, we experienced SobFest 2007. The entire room of 3rd-5th graders were, as a friend of mine says, “snot bubble crying.” The adults kind of looked on in amazement.
I think it was a combination of 4 things:
1. It was REALLY hot.
2. They were tired.
3. They would miss their new friends.
4. God could have actually been touching some hearts!
My Dad (who experienced this also) said to compare SobFest 2007 to SobFest 2008 which should happen by this time next week. It made an impact.
I worked at a church camp where we all got the “cruise ship virus” and so instead of a last night cry fest, we all had diahrrea. Trust me. I’d take a cry fest over “rrea-fest” anytime.
The only event as predictable as the last night cry is the string of testimonies from the kids during the Sunday evening service on the day of return.
Each kid is wearing dirty, wrinkled clothes or something very nerdy because they wore their cool clothes during the carnal (LOVE that word) first half of camp when they were trying to score a girlfriend/boyfriend. They don’t care, however, because they’re on a spiritual high post The Cry and no longer care about material possessions and vanity.
Testimonies go something like this:
“Ok, like, I mean, God is sooo awesome! And, like, I know me and my friends, we like, have been on this spiritual high and everything in years past and then we fell back into sin and stuff but, like I mean.. God is so awesome and this time its going to last!! I love you guys…. waaaaaahhhhhhhh.”
Many also start with
“I mean, I was NOT going to go to camp this year and God performed this total miracle because the only reason that I went, to be honest, is that this girl was going to go that is totally hot but I don’t care anymore because I just love Jesus and want to be pure and stuff but anyway, my friend Dustin told me I should go and God convicted me only I thought that it was my own lust but it was God and so I went and I’m so glad because I got saved again this year for the 4th time, praise Jesus.”
Oh, the other post camp treasure are the ‘special songs’ that were sung throughout the week during camp. Nothing says talent like an Amy Grant re-do in 4-part harmony sung by pubescent voices.
Only this time, they’re sung with great fervor, animation and emphasis because the singer has been completely renewed by the cry.
Urggggh. Fell for it every time. The last night, the burlap-covered old Victrola would be trotted out, a 45 of the Youngbloods "Get Together" would be reverently placed on the turntable and we would be instructed to form two circles, sitting cross-legged on some dank cement floor and the circles would move and you would then tell EVERY person you encountered during your Traveling Floor Circles why you thanked God for that person. At the time, you get caught up in the emotion, plus being a tweenager is like a match to that particular tinder. Snot bubble crying; just love that. There would be a few moments of talking with someone outside your normal clique and that was a nice feeling, to talk to someone shy or new and see how they would come out of their shell a bit afterward, but looking back, I wonder how the counselors didn't rupture themselves laughing at our dweebish carrying on which comprised most of the ceremony.
[...] remember well the last night cry fest at camp. It was like some kind of weird tradition. According to SCL, you either cry because you’re [...]
you, sir, are a comedic genius