Being Real, Finding Joy

This morning, we got up early to pick up our middle schooler from Camp Allen.  If you aren’t familiar with Camp Allen, it is an Episcopal church camp in Navasota, Texas.  Nestled in the piney woods, it’s a little slice of heaven. The camp isn’t fancy by any means but it is special nonetheless.  My husband and I attended this camp as kids (though never together) and I admit I was a little jealous that by the time our first son starting going, they had added air conditioning to the cabins.  Summer camp with no air conditioning is my version of walking uphill to school both ways.  

On the way, we chatted about a karaoke party I attended last night.  Ryan was too tired to go but I hadn’t seen this group of friends in ages so I went by myself.  If you like karaoke, then karaoke with a group of actors in a private party room is highly recommended.  I am not as active in local theatre as I once was, but still feel very connected to this community.  I shared with Ryan all the latest news and that a highlight of the evening was a playwright who was in town from New York.  When he chose Joy to the World, he confided to me, “I’m not a great singer so everyone will have to support me.” I assured him we would.  This is the Joy to the World by Three Dog Night – not the Christmas song.  “Joy to the world.  All the boys and girls.  Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea.  Joy to you and me.”  The reason it was a high point is as everyone joined him, it truly was joyful and dare I say, spiritual.  This song took us both back to our childhoods this morning.  I couldn’t stop humming it.

We picked up our daughter, who attended her first year of junior high camp.  She attended camp every prior year with a friend of his from our church.  This year, his friend didn’t go so we were hoping for a good experience since our younger child is a bit shy and keeping faith in the “Camp Allen experience.”  The minute we saw her, she said “This was the best week ever at Camp Allen! I made friends with everyone in my cabin!” On the ride home, we heard wonderful stories of her experience at camp and she radiated joy and confidence.  She said that she now understands the crucifixion better and what it really meant to die in this way.  Joyful and spiritual. 

I later told my husband that the kids’ attendance at Camp Allen is one of the things that gives me the most joy as a parent.  It is turning out to be for them what it was for me.  Camp was a place where I knew I belonged, not just fit in.  It was a place to live in Christian community if only for a week at a time.  Great care was taken to be sure everyone was included and accepted.  Discipline was gentle and the Spirit was present.  Episcopal youth gatherings were an integral part of my formation as a Christian and it is such a blessing to know that in a world where so much has changed since I grew up, this one thing is unchanged.  Sure, Camp Allen has changed; they have archery, horseback riding and air conditioning now.  But the core of the place is the same.  We agreed it was a culture.  This is a great example of culture over strategy.  It isn’t a great experience because the checklists were followed and activities executed with precision.  It is a transformative experience because of the culture of love.

Back to last night.  Interestingly, I experienced true community in a somewhat hole-in-the-wall little karaoke bar.  I realize that my tie to this group of actors is because of the love and acceptance I experience when I am with them.  I imagine it’s different in Hollywood, but your local community theatre bunch is one of the most diverse and real gatherings around.  Conversations aren’t focused on day jobs or dream vacations or “moving up in the world.”  This isn’t because we aren’t connected; it is because the focus of our interaction is, of course, on the art but on other things like family, friends and emotion.  We don’t talk about many material things because things don’t inspire bravery and to be an actor, you must be a risk taker.  You must also be a great pretender.  And actors are keenly aware when someone is pretending in an attempt to guard themselves.  So, combine the acceptance of risk and the awareness of false appearances and you have a very authentic community.  This group knows how hard it is to be vulnerable and is practiced at drawing out the real part of others and then loving who shows up.  And that is when the joy comes out – when the walls come down.  

It is tempting to believe that community can be achieved by being the same, believing the same, doing the same.  However, sameness requires changing or hiding a part of ourselves because we are all different.  Being yourself in a group and being accepted for who you are is true belonging, not just fitting in.  I would say that I spent plenty of my childhood trying to fit in but the bursts of belonging were transformational.  They gave me aspirations.

Are you part of an authentic community?  Can you bravely take those experiences and infuse other places with Jesus’ love?  Are you still searching for a place to be yourself?