Church the Way It Should Be . . . Says Me

I’ve been camped in one ministry for over four decades. I’m a preacher of sorts, if you want to call me that. And if you don’t, that’s OK too.

I’m a volunteer for Campers for Christ, an organization formed to bring church to campers. I take charge of a service at a local state park six or seven weekends a summer.  Dad was hoping I’d become a preacher like he was. However, I didn’t make it over to the seminary across the road from the college I graduated from. 

He gave me a hard time at first when I told him I was with Campers for Christ. What are you gonna preach about? God’s purpose for creating mosquitoes and poison ivy? But at the same time, he was bragging to his friends that his son was involved in the ministry.

A majority of the weekends I camp among the potential congregation. My friend Brian usually camps with me and assists me with the services. Lately he’s been preaching off and on so I can sit and relax and just enjoy the message.

I don’t know why I still get nervous after all these years of leading. One acquaintance told me the reason is because what I’m doing is so important. He said maybe I should worry if I DON’T get a little nervous.

I told another friend, “I don’t know why I do it. It’s out of my comfort zone.” He replied, “Maybe that’s why you do it.” I’m still thinking about that one.

You should see all the stuff I haul over to the campground in my car (or occasionally truck) when it’s my weekend. I erect a large shelter. One of my friends refers to it as a circus tent. I have a very large, cushy air mattress that the same friend calls my Serta. And I take a large pillow, which would practically fill a backpack. (You can see why I don’t backpack much anymore.)

My family did not camp when I was a kid. Dad was a Ranger in World War II and he had had enough “hiking and camping.” But I did camp in the backyard quite often. And without all the comforts of home like I take now.

Most of the people who come to the campground sleep in RVs to avoid discomfort. Some RVs look like mobile homes on wheels. Many owners tell me they started out with tents when they were younger.

Tent camping can be rugged sometimes. Rain, noisy neighbors, and those frigid mornings when you’d rather stay in the sack. Funny, those are the things we campers like to talk about.

Though we have a lot of camping fun, the weekend is busy. Saturday is the day to get the word out to the folks at the campground that a church service is available if they want one. Brian and I ride the loops with our signs. Sometimes I go on two wheels, lately on three, and some Saturdays people find me advertising from my four-wheeled, classic truck.

OK, so why am I so enthusiastic about camper church? The services are outside. The attendees are encouraged to come as they are. We usually sit in a circle (with a little coaching from me) and get to know each other. And best of all, the sermons are short and sweet.

This is probably the child in me talking. Nothing against your traditional church services; that’s where I go on Sundays when I’m not at the campground.

I usually get to the woodsy cul-de-sac area around 9:00 Sunday morning. I never know how many people will attend. There’s been at least a couple dozen Sundays in the span of my ministry when nobody came.

Usually, though, at about 9:20 or 9:25, the campers roll in with their chairs and their coffee. And sometimes their animals. I never start up at exactly 9:30 because, after all, we’re on camper time.

Over the years, my methods have changed. We’ve gone from putting the seats in rows to forming a circle. If somebody would rather form a row behind the circle, fine. But it just feels more like a church when we’re all in the “front row.”  

I used to stand behind a homemade pulpit. I dropped the pulpit. Now I remain in my seat during the service. Nobody, including me, wants to leave their cozy camper chair. Camping is for relaxing.

We go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Many times I’ll give everybody a chance to offer a prayer request or something they’re thankful for. Even a testimony. But it all has to be of the “popcorn” variety. That’s code for a minute or less. Experience is a good teacher!

I’ve been using the same choruses since I started. Only the guitars have changed, each time getting smaller and easier to lug around. 

The sermons/devotionals have always been around 20 minutes. I have about 40 or 50 of them so far, which means I’ve used many of them multiple times. When I reuse a sermon, I hope that the people are all different or, at least, that it’s been a long time since they heard it.

I try to use humor, illustrations, and some of the more familiar passages in the Bible. One person calls them half-caff sermons, and I’m good with that.

To me camper church is a metaphor for our walk with God. He wants us to come as we are. We don’t have to get our souls cleaned up first. God will help us do that on our journey with him.

He wants us to “sit in a circle” of unity. It amazes me how much corporate worship comes from that little ring of chairs.

And then there’s God’s message to us. It’s actually short and sweet. He loves us and wants to have a relationship with us. The perfect relationship our first parents had with God was broken when they sinned. We all have sinned since then. Jesus came to restore that relationship by becoming the ultimate sacrifice for our sins. We have an RSVP to join the family of God by accepting Jesus. But we have to respond.

Well, there it is. You didn’t know you were going to get a sermon. Thanks for allowing  me to share an experience or two about my campground ministry. I feel blessed to be able to take part in it. Especially when campers hang around after the service and tell me how it has added spiritual blessings to their weekend.