And so summer 2016 at Camp Singley draws to a close.
Bright and early tomorrow we’ll be on the road, heading home to Lexington, KY. We’ll spend the night in Pennsylvania. The Mohegan Sun casino at Pocono Downs likes to trade me a free room for the chance to take my money at the Blackjack tables. Good luck with that, Mohegan Sun! If all goes as planned we’ll be back in the Bluegrass sometime Tuesday.
I always feel a bit melancholy when we leave Camp Singley. The hardwood Maples are just now turning red in splotches and the lake is quieting down as vacationers go home and kids start school. And the air, although still a bit humid today, has a different feel to it. Autumn is waiting in the wings and winter will not be far behind. The year-round residents of our little town are fixing up their snowmobiles and starting to mark the ends of their driveways with tall-standing reflectors. They are hoping for more snow this year than last.
Perhaps that tinge of heavyheartedness I feel has to do with the indisputable fact that the world is changing before my eyes and I cannot clearly see what lies ahead. Almost four years out from quadruple bypass surgery I’m very aware of my own mortality and so I wonder if I will get to see Camp Singley next year. I’m not dwelling on it but the thought is there and the changing of seasons provokes the idea.
If it did turn out that this was my last hurrah at Highland Lake I have to say it was a hell of a great summer! Our Viking River Cruise on the (brown) Danube was spectacular not only from a touristy point of view but also because of how it peeled back the skin of the Christian Church for me, exposing some things that anger me. The European nobility that embraced Christianity appeared to be less interested in the Gospel and more excited about a faith that taught it a holy duty to “obey the authorities.” Not a bad gig if you can get it! And the gold that adorns sanctuaries shine in stark contrast to what was the simplicity and sometimes the poverty of the surrounding villages. It looked to me like the evangelization of Europe was largely about power – how to get it, how to keep it and how to use it to gain more.
I don’t know if you think of it this way but I find great value in provocative experiences that force me to consider the world out beyond the circle of my own circumstances. If, as they say, history books are always written by the victors, what happens when you try to learn about those who lost? That can be an unsettling experience. But on the underside of history you meet a humanity not at all unlike yourself that possesses great wisdom and beauty, and that has experienced deep pain. You also begin to understand why some people just don’t – or can’t – believe in the Church.
So the River trip got my soul and mind flowing like whitewater.
And then our time at Camp Singley brought the gift of family, friends and the indescribable beauty of Mother Earth under whose sun and in whose waters we played with grandchildren, and ate s’mores by the campfire, and celebrated life simply by living it. And it amazes me that today’s technology allowed us to “be” with friends Len and Liz helping to supply and feed Syrian refugees in Lake Como, Italy; and with Nancy on her journey to An Loc, Vietnam to lay a memorial at the site where a man she loved was killed when his helicopter crashed during that war; and with Vicki as she received chemotherapy and is waging a fierce battle with cancer; and with a bunch of fantastic (and slightly whacky) “kids” from the Burncoat Sr. High Class of ’67 with whom I graduated and who tell me it’s time to plan our 50th reunion!; and with countless of God’s children from the churches I served over forty years time. It’s been a rich and wonderful summer literally overflowing with great people and countless blessings!
And so with the seasons about to change once more, I’m bidding a fond farewell to Camp Singley.
But to each of you I raise a final glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and simply say, “Here’s lookin’ up yer address!”
Marty. You have such a way with words.. I always wished, as i listened to you on Sunday mornings, that I could express myself just have as well. Even a quarter would have made me happy. When you left us, there was such a void in the church.( and the office) it was fun working with you. I remember the night you called me to come in because you needed a letter to go out in the morning. And wanted to know why I didn’t read.it. I was in a hurry because i was on my way out when you called. God bless.
Phyllis