Most Catholic retreats have the same essential pitch: spend a few days with us away from the hustle and bustle of life, and you can gain some new perspective and spiritual renewal.
The new Catholic Family Camp put on by the Archdiocese of Vancouver came with an added twist: we’ll give you all that, but you must bring your children.
Now, I love my kids, but this felt like a promise likely to go unfulfilled.
For context, my family was in the process of unpacking moving boxes. Bedtime was just starting to settle, but my daughter was still asking to go “home” to our old house at regular intervals throughout the day.
This didn’t feel like the best time to repack our recently unpacked clothes and truck the kids off on the first camping trip of their lives. In addition, the move had strained things between my wife and me, and we were both struggling to find patience with each other.
When we pulled up the long dirt driveway to the camp, I felt regret gnawing at the back of my mind for bringing my family to “work.”
Still, the mountains and the view were beautiful, and upon disembarking the van my kids quickly ran across the empty field to explore.
Stepping Stones Bible Camp is located two minutes down the road from the Deroche convenience store, 15 minutes past Mission. By Lower Mainland standards, it’s not quite far enough out be the middle of nowhere, but they’re in the same neighbourhood.
I was told by organizers that 42 families were expected, and 25 were bringing children under two. Utter chaos, I thought.
The event opened with announcements by organizer Megan Rumohr from the Archdiocesan Office for Marriage and Family. After dinner, Deacon Pat Dwan led a Eucharistic procession around the property.
The chapel was an old, repurposed barn, with an altar and pews set up for adoration. After the procession, the children were given candles so they could place their prayers at the foot of the altar.
Our oldest, Thomas, was excited to bring the flickering lights and after placing the first he found the box of candles and started to grab more.
I explained that he needed to say a prayer if he wanted to put another candle in front of the monstrance. I asked him what he was going to pray for. One of his friends, he said, and he ran to do so, like it was a game.
He was the only child running across the front of the chapel and I was self-conscious about what other parents might think. Still, I couldn’t stop him from being close to Jesus. So I took a breath, walked over to him, crouched down to his level, hugged him a few feet from the monstrance, and asked him to pray with me. He tried to run away, but after a moment he stopped and looked up at the monstrance.
We said a prayer for our family, the camping trip, and other people in our lives, and instead of running away he sat with me for a few moments. I asked him who he wanted to pray for, and he said one of his friends. After a Sign of the Cross, he went off to join his mother.
I mention this story because of what happened a few days later. We were at Sunday Mass, and he was having a hard time sitting still. He wanted to run around the church but was frustrated that we wouldn’t let him go.
These moments aren’t uncommon. Thomas is a kid. He listens and behaves when his emotions are in check, but this wasn’t one of those days, and for whatever reason, Sunday Mass has always been a struggle.
He was giggling and struggling on the way to Communion, and I didn’t know how to help him calm down until I remembered our moment in the camp chapel. I took him to the side after he received a blessing, and we knelt in front of the altar while other people were receiving Communion.
I asked him to tell Jesus what was bothering him.
Usually, this sort of request is met with a troubled expression, and he says, “I don’t know, you tell me.” This time, to my surprise, he told God exactly what was making him uncomfortable: he didn’t want to sit still in Mass. I gave him a hug, and we sat down.
Perhaps this is normal for other children, but it was a big step for Thomas.
I miss opportunities like this all the time. Either I don’t think my kids will respond, or I am too distracted by my own feelings to take the time to do something extra. The camp helped me get a better sense of where they are in their relationship with God, and how I can help them grow toward Jesus.
During the closing Mass, Father Obi Ibekwe, a priest from Kelowna, joked that perhaps we should all stay at the camp and form a parish, praying and going out into the Fraser Valley as missionary disciples and returning to ready-cooked meals. Everything would be perfect. Everyone laughed.
Of course, you can’t stay in a place like that forever, but sometimes it’s just what you need. Kids, marriage, bills, housing, cars, education, and everything else can become a shroud between God and us. The camping trip gave us all, even the kids, time to decompress with God, and it’s shown in our family life since getting home.
That space gave my wife and me time to recover from our recent move and room to talk through some of the things in our relationship that we had been neglecting over the last few weeks.
Before we left, I was carrying my daughter past the chapel when she asked to go in. I told her we could, but that Deacon Pat had taken Jesus home earlier that morning, and it was just an empty building. She was upset because she wanted to say “hi.” I told her that God was everywhere, but that didn’t make her feel better. It’s a strange thing to be thankful for, but I am glad God gave us that moment together.
It’s easy to wonder if what we do as parents will keep our children in the faith. None of my childhood friends go to church anymore, and it worries me that my children could end up the same way – listless and worldly, detached from God and the Church. But then my daughter gets sad because she didn’t get to say goodbye to Jesus, and I get the sense that they will be alright.
What more to say? The event went well. Volunteers were there to watch the kids (a million thanks to these young people) and an abundance of toys and games meant they could roam freely around the property. It was a joy to watch so many families socializing. Watching other parents with their kids was a particular highlight, as were the talks given by missionary couple Jean-Paul and Marie-Rye de Fleuriot about finding meaning in suffering.
The camp was part of a three-year program by the Archdiocese that started with a Family Barbecue two years ago and continued with the Family Eucharistic Summit last summer. The three-part program is part of an initiative by the Archdiocese and the Marriage and Family Office to strengthen families through sacramental participation and education, and community with other families.
Camping Snapshots
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