After reading Rector Jim's blog post this morning concerning the bolstering of diocesan support for campus ministry, I thought I would join in the conversation. Many of you may know that I am a student here at the University of Virginia, but you may not know that I'm going into my fourth year. Something more - the Canterbury Episcopal Fellowship at U.Va., supported by St. Paul's Memorial Church, has been an integral part, not only of my university experience, but also of my education. Four years ago, I came to Charlottesville, never having seen the campus or the city to begin my undergraduate career. A student advisor in my first year residence house encouraged me to visit the Student Activities Fair and find something to get involved with that would suit my interests. People always told me that college was the time for re-inventing yourself; for figuring things out; for being who, what, or whatever you wanted to be, without the stigmas surrounding your identity in high-school: so I wasn't quite sure that I wanted to continue my identity as "Sean: the kid who's heavily involved with church stuff." Like most adolescents my age, I was experiencing the world in an entirely new way. And that meant thinking for myself, which, to use the words of comedian Lewis Black - "I would love to have faith that the world was created in seven days, but I have thoughts; and thoughts can really f%#! up the whole faith thing. Just ask any Catholic priest."
So, upon arriving in Charlottesville and spending a week in the sweltering August heat at camp for the Cavalier Marching Band, I had thoughts and they (you guessed it) did mess up the whole faith thing. And, since only one other person from my small, rural high school attended the University, I was blessed with complete freedom to re-invent myself, to be anything I wanted to be. I even briefly considered being a golden-lion tamarin, just because I could. Then, at the activities fair, I stumbled across the Canterbury table where the Episcopal Shield welcomed me. I thought, sure, why not give it a chance. After all, they did give me water and home-baked goods, not the big box-store treats that have been so over processed, they endanger the individual identity. That following Wednesday, I walked across the Grounds towards the only landmark familiar to me. The Corner. And there it was, Chancellor Street. Home to sororities, St. Paul's, and the Canterbury House.
At our first meeting, we celebrated an ancient Eucharist out-doors, in the backyard of Canterbury House. For some reason, I thought that was very unique and interesting and so unlike anything I had experienced back home in the Diocese of Southern Virginia. Something kept me coming back. I'm not quite sure if it was the people or the fact that there was a group of religious people who didn't ask me to check my brain at the door; and, furthermore, a group who didn't mind the fact that I had questions, doubts, and concerns about my faith. That was it! They encouraged me to think! For someone who grew up in one of the most conservative dioceses in America and who came from such a small town that I was forced to attend youth events with the fundamentalist churches, to be able to freely think about and question my beliefs was a novel concept.
During the latter years of middle-school and all throughout high school, my rector encouraged me to attend diocesan youth events and worked very hard to fund these trips (sometimes out of his own pocket). At the time, there was one event that almost every youth in our diocese attended. Happening, a Christian Experience. It was a weekend long retreat held at the diocesan conference center, Camp Chanco on the James. The event changed my life, opening my eyes to the idea of God as Love: which, to me, seemed more comforting than a paternal figure-head existing somewhere in another dimension that people only reached after death. Rather than viewing my religion as an exercise to ensure my admittance into heaven, this event allowed me to see God as a feeling, an emotion that exists in our daily lives. Not as an end-goal.
Shortly after graduation, I learned that the diocese, which had for years underfunded their youth programs, had decided to put this event on hiatus until they could get their finances back in order. That was 2007. It's now 2011 and youth events such as Happening (and it's middle school equivalent, New Beginnings) are still inactive. A very good friend of mine and former EYC (Episcopal Youth Community) President for DioSoVa, who worked tirelessly to ensure that exactly what happened wouldn't happen, moved to New York to study screen-play writing at the Pratt Institute will have nothing to do with any of these programs, mostly because of the Diocese's disregard for the importance of the youth. I can very vividly remember her standing up at Annual Council my senior year of high school and very pointedly telling the clergy and bureaucrats that they were, essentially, signing their own death certificates if they did not take more seriously the importance of youth ministry. Where, 4 years ago, alumni of the Happening retreat would return bi-annually to the closing ceremonies of each retreat to welcome a new class of Happeners into Love, almost none of us return now, because the event has ceased to be.
I would ask the Annual Council to seriously consider expanding their funding for campus ministries, and youth ministries, at large. We have something to offer the community. Arguing that we're young and naive, thus rendering our opinions banal only serves to further alienate an entire generation from the Church.
No comments:
Post a Comment