It was a full truckload of used school chairs which I had been talked into purchasing. I had no idea of what to do with them. I figured the church I attended already had enough. Then I had the idea to donate it to the church camp which I volunteer at during the summer.
The chairs sat around in my garage for several months until I got around to making the 2 hour drive to camp with them.
I halfway expected to see maintenance workers there. Sure enough there were about half a dozen of them there putting a porch on cabin #3. As I went around to each cabin placing a chair inside, I was reminded of how dead camp was this time of year. Not only the environment, but the camp itself. I get the same feeling of emptiness at the end of camp when everyone has left and I’m the last person there. And it was even moreso in the dead of winter. I took a few pictures while I was there, but the pictures don’t really do it justice. Sure there were signs of recent activity such as the rocking chairs inside around the fireplace, but there was the foreboding sense of emptiness. Much much different than the florishing Spring and Summer when retreats and summer camps happen.
It’s the same sense that one gets when visiting an empty church building, especially a large church building. I’ve been to my own church building many times where I am the only one there. And I found out something…buildings make noises when no one is there. Whether it’s the air conditioning, automatic ice maker or just the groaning that a house makes when it settles, there are noises. If you’re not aware of it, those noises can play havoc with one’s mind, which is why I don’t stick around empty church buildings for too long.
The moral of the story is that at the heart of every place is people. It’s people that give church camps and places of worship life.