Reflections on the work camp

Wednesday afternoon I drove to Racine, Wisconsin to join our high school students for a work mission camp. The days leading up to the camp were most frustrating. The soccer players were told they could either attend Coach K’s funeral or go to the camp. I was told I could come late and then told I couldn’t; this pattern was repeated several times. Saturday afternoon I was again told I could not come because I wouldn’t be present for the entire week, but on Sunday afternoon I was told I could go after all.

No real explanations were ever really given and by Sunday evening I had decided not to go because it seemed my presence was not wanted. Who really wants to spend several days where they are not wanted? No real explanations were given by those in charge of the camp why the soccer boys and I could not arrive late, nor was an explanation given as to the change regarding my late arrival.

By Tuesday afternoon some of our kids had called asking me to come up, which I agreed to do. I expected a few days of misery for me, but knew I had to go for the sake of the students.

Once I arrived, things seem to have calmed down and Thursday and Friday went well; we returned to Effingham Saturday afternoon.

I spent my days riding around with the supervisors because I was not too to do any work because I missed the “safety video.” Why couldn’t be shown to me was never explained; the students said it wasn’t very long.

At any ride, I mostly rode with a man named Chuck who owned a fencing company and helped the campers build fences for people. He was very friendly and taught me quite a bit about fence building. He was very enjoyable to be with.

The work on the homes began about 8:30 each morning and finished about 3:00 each afternoon; the rest of the day was spent with your own church groups. The St. Anthony students spent time relaxing in the pool, eating, playing cards and simply chatting away. The afternoons and evenings were a great deal of fun, with the exception of the “worship services.”

When the students called me earlier in the week they had experienced two of these services (the camp itself is not a Catholic camp). They found them to be, as they said, “fake” and “shallow.” If no other good were to come of the camp, I think this alone would have been worth it.

What they meant was that the jumping around, the guitars and drums, the goofiness of the “worship” seemed too focused on themselves and not enough on God. It led to long for the Mass and strengthened their appreciation of the Sacraments, especially of the Mass and of Confession. God be praised!

On the way home some of the boys rode with me so I wouldn’t have to make the trip home on my own. Since I slept very little while I was there, I was grateful for their company.

As we drove through Chicago, we stopped at The House of Hansen so I could order a black chasuble. It should be ready by the end of July. The boys saw one on the rack and really liked it. They hadn’t been to such a shop before and I think they liked it. They seemed to enjoy looking at the different vestments available.

We arrived in Effingham in time for me to throw a homily together in outline form. After Mass, I went to bed.

All in all, I am glad I went to the work camp, for the sake of the students, but because of the unreasonableness of the situation concerning Coach K’s funeral I’m not sure I would do it again, at least of my own decision.