For Hope

We have a difference to make.

The story below was written for the closing ceremony of a camp for high schoolers that occurs every July in Southern Iowa. I’ve been a regular part of this camp, that sees between 400-600ish campers each year. As you read it you will see that, one, I am a retired preacher (it is very sermony) and, two, it will give you a glance at what types of activities happen at camp.

The camp offers participants experiences with worship, leadership, performing arts, visual arts, sports and community. I have found that it transforms the lives of those youth that attend. Not 100% of them, of course. But most of them.

It has transformed my life too. This camp, called Spectacular (SPEC), brings together not only hundreds of youth, but over a hundred staff who are trained in youth safety and community building. These staff give up a week of vacation every summer to be there, and they pay a registration fee! I’ve never met such kind, loving and dedicated people. These are my friends who I have been working along side for decades in some cases. It takes a special heart for a person to give of their time and leadership to a bunch of beloved youth who need consistency, kindness, and a space for safe sharing and listening.

I’ve attended, in one role or another, SPEC since 1987. I’ve been a leader in worship, in singing, a comedy skit partner, a performing arts director, and a spiritual guide. I’ve witnessed true vulnerability from youth who feel safe, some for the first time. I’ve experienced miracles as 500 youth long for and work towards radical love and a call to action. I’ve walked with people in deep pain and listened to their stories. Some that have made me fall, later and when alone, to my knees in despair for lives broken at home. I have worked to create a space where authenticity is valued and kindness encouraged. And I’ve not done it alone.

I had the honor of sharing a closing statement for the camp a couple of years ago. The theme was “Hope in Action”. I want to share these words with you today. I think they might give you a great sense of what it might mean for us to belong to one another in hope.

And, of course, in today’s political and social climate, words of hope are needed more than ever! (I mean, what the hell is happening? Oh, of course, destructive and selfish control, power, and hate. That’s what’s happening.)

Which makes SPEC more needed than ever,

This all has a deep sadness around it because for only the fifth time since 1987, I won’t be able to attend SPEC. My brain injury has made it impossible. And I am brokenhearted. Re-reading these words, written a couple of years ago, helps ground me in what matters most: Hope for our future - a future of belonging where everyone is a part of something greater, and behaviors that are damaging and destructive are not allowed but transformed by the call of community which is to love all of us.

And, finally, I want to mention my mom on this Mother’s Day. She is the one who got me to SPEC in the first place. Where I’ve attended since 1987, she has attended since the 1970s. My mother has made the way for me to be engaged in the most meaningful work in my life - and we have done most of it together. I follow her lead wherever she goes because I know she has created a space of love with others in a way that builds and nurtures radical belonging and community. And I’m just grateful to be a part of it all.

She is the trailblazer and I am the follower. She has never steered me wrong. Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.

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And so, to the SPEC community:

We have done so much hoping here, together. We’ve hoped for trust and laughter and equality. We’ve hoped for belonging and kindness and protection. We’ve hoped that someone would show us the love of God that is always, always there. And we’ve hoped that we would be a beacon of God’s love that would create a place of safety here.

And, I want to acknowledge that there isn’t always safety. There isn’t always laughter or trust or kindness.

And that is true for any of us. Life is too complicated and deep and challenging to have that all the time. We all know it.

But, also, hope.

When someone asks me what we’ve done this past week as community, I am going to tell them that we’ve done hope.

Hope in action that was a beacon when one of us was lost.

Hope in action that was your life-song when I forgot the words.

Hope in action that was friendship when I was lonely.

Hope in action that was the promise of love lived when I wasn’t sure what to believe in anymore.

Hope in action through high fives and missed volleyball serves and cello playing and too long ice cream cone lines in the dining hall.

Hope in action through deep prayers for the earth and one another.

In embroidery and conversations with people we had just met who felt like forever friends.

Hope in action through pickle ball and devotions of highs and lows and stories of love which I’m pretty sure is what this is all about.

Hope in action through forgetting quiz bowl answers and being told that it is ok. It’s ok.

Through ukulele and dance and through communion and that moment in community that was really, really, well, real.

The beauty in these hopes in action is that they are now in our collective memory and now we are changed.

We are new.

We have a story to tell.

We have a difference to make.

We have the taste of something the world longs for.

The hope we’ve been talking about all week.

It is time to get going. To play our last games and eat our last meals in the commons. To have our last nighttime devotions. To cheer on our teams one last time.

It is time to pack up and get ready to travel far and not far. It is time to say goodbye and remind each other that we are not alone and that we will always love this time and these memories.

It is time to know, deep in our bones, that when we look back on this experience we will see that what we have done, is hope.

Hope so loud that it can’t be ignored when we turn it into action focused out there. Action that, grounded in love for ALL OF US, becomes transformation that becomes a world of peace.

All of this is really important because there is a lack of hope in the world that is destructive and dark. It is causing brokenness that we can’t even begin to imagine except that we are living it. It is causing us to hate one another and fear each other and it will break us if we let it.

But the hope we found here, the hope we find in the stories and songs we’ve heard and sung this week, this is what’s real. This is where we find truth and light. This is where hope shines.

So maybe what we’ve done for one another, we can do for the world. I don’t know. Can we be this bold?

Can we say that we will no longer let hate divide us?

Can we say that we will change our behavior when it is hurtful and not respectful of the love we want to plant in this beloved community?

Can we say that violence doesn’t belong on this planet, lovingly created by God to live and breathe in peace?

Can we say that we belong to one another so deeply that when one hurts all hurt?

Can we act like this is true?

Can it be true?

No matter who you are or where you come from, this community is for you. And it is. It is for you.

But this feeling? This belonging? This wild hope? It has to be for everyone or it will fade and we will be here, next year, and nothing will have changed. It has to be for everyone.

That is our call: To love God and love one another. And to do it so that all of us, all of us, can breathe. Can live.

I hope for you peace and deep joy. I hope for you the knowledge that you are loved and welcomed and that you belong just as you are. Exactly as you are. I hope you will remember this time together with the knowledge that were a part of something meaningful.

And, if you forget this hope, I pray that someone around you will remind you that it is yours.

I promise I will do it if I can.

But, if I’m not around, I pray that you find it in the beauty of the world all around you.

And I pray a blessing on us – that our hope, put into action, will be a blessing to all of creation.

You are deeply loved. And I’m grateful for you.

May the spirit of belonging be with you and breathe through you on your way.

For hope.