Photo: The Ninnescah River at Camp Mennoscah, Murdock, Kansas. Photo provided. 

It’s 90 degrees outside, but in the sun, it feels like it must be over 100. A lizard scampers across the ground in front of my feet as I walk from the cabin area to the dining hall. A slight breeze causes the bluestem and Indian grasses to sway back and forth, but only a little. Sweat is trickling down my brow as it has been several times since arriving earlier this week, and the sand is sticking to my skin everywhere.

What is this place, where we are meeting?

The scene described above is a common occurrence in the summers at Camp Mennoscah, located near Murdock, Kansas. Aside from a near-record amount of rainfall this past summer, Camp Mennoscah is often quite dry and somewhat hot in the summers, and the wooded areas come secondary to the open grassy spaces throughout camp grounds.

For someone who has never been out to our camp along the Ninnescah River, a prominent question is might come to mind: What exactly is it that makes this place so special that campers continue to come back?

The answer to this question is not at all difficult to articulate for a person who has spent time at Camp Mennoscah, and as two people who have returned on many occasions and in several capacities, we seek to show how this particular place has the power to form and transform those who immerse themselves in it.

Only a house, the earth its floor,

Places are just locations, vital and living only in the way they are used. A house or a place, however, can become more than its physical aspects. It can become a home, a locality where everything aligns comfortably around us.

One manner in which a place is transformed into a home is through familiarity with sights, sounds, and smells. At Camp Mennoscah, we hear the oil wells clunking, crickets humming, the frogs chirruping, the river rushing, and unidentifiable rustlings in the tallgrass prairie. For many of us, these noises are specific to our camp experience, in the same ways that seeing the starry skies, the prairie grasses, speedy lizards, and the murky river are. There is the smell of homemade bread baking and outside there is fresh air, sometimes with an earthy tang of fish. Sand in and on everything is a given. We return to camp year after year and this mixture of sensory experiences is a familiar part of our camp home.

With our senses filled with these distinct images, noises, and often textures, a new space is discovered. Our camp activities and experiences are not tied to what we know from other places we call home. In this new space, we are open to ideas that we would not consider in other situations.

walls and a roof, sheltering people,

The central gathering area at Camp Mennoscah is our outdoor shelter. On hot summer days, the shelter protects us from the rays of the sun, and during a rainstorm it keeps everyone dry. In the same way that the shelter protects camp groups from the sometimes harsh elements of nature, camp itself acts as walls and a roof which provide a space of shelter from negative elements.

In the camp setting, campers and staff alike are gathered together into one group where the temptations to divide based on common interests, personality type, body type, sexuality, skin color, or cultural difference fade and the camp community strengthens. We hear frequently that “camp is a place where I can truly be myself,” and “I wish we could just form our own society at camp.”

Camp Mennoscah is no utopia, but it does present a way of living that campers long for, where

insecurities dissolve, personal confidence grows, and mutually supporting one another in love abounds. From within a safe, intentional community where all are seeking to love one another and striving to live in the footsteps of Jesus, we wonder why it is so difficult to live this way the other 51 weeks of the year when it is so easy to do at camp.

windows for light, an open door.

We live in a world fraught with distractions. Advertisements tell us what we need to have, how we need to look, and what we need to do. We are constantly surrounded by screens that beg for our attention to see the latest news reports, posts from friends, funny videos and play the newest video games.

But, during a stay at camp for any length of time, campers are drawn back into a space where a simple lifestyle holds sway, where face-to-face relationships replace digital social connections, and where the beauty of God’s good creation is brought to the fore.

In cabins, windows let in the sunlight during the day and the soft sounds of nature during the night which reset our internal clocks to match the circadian rhythms of life surrounding us. God opens the door to be immersed in the serenity of the natural world in a way that restores our connection to the diversity of life in this world. Seeing a Great Blue Heron fishing in the river in the early morning mist. Hearing a barred owl call into the night while sitting at campfire. Feeling a cool, gentle breeze after a long day of activity. These experiences alone provide justification for a person’s draw to Camp Mennoscah, but camp as a place encompasses much more than just the natural or the simple.

Yet it becomes a body that lives when we are gathered here,

The familiarity of the creation surrounding us, the alternate lifestyle represented, and limited electronic distractions contribute to make this geographical location a place we call home. An invaluable piece that also calls us back to Camp Mennoscah is the living body that emerges when people assemble. This community that gathers can consist of people who are unknown to each other, but campers and retreat attendees frequently return year after year.

During our summer youth camps and retreats, we spend time every day in worship through song and prayer. Evening campfire meditations give us peace after busy days. We have discussions during our Bible times and laugh with friends in cabin groups. Being in a new environment with different expectations than usual, these personal connections can be profound and emotional. As we establish trust with our camp community, we open ourselves to deeper relationships with others and with God. We have a new awareness of ourselves. With each meaningful understanding and relationship, we increase our attachment to where they developed. We want to return to the same place with the hope of re-creating the depth of our experiences and growing even more.

Camp Mennoscah thrives because of this living body, and the people thrive because of the relationships they have built with God, nature, and others while at camp. We are committed to these camp communities, having experienced God’s kingdom through them.

and know our God is near.

Camp Mennoscah is a place we call home, but it is clearly possible to feel a sense of home elsewhere. Our hope is that camp is not the only place where a person can feel both secure and confident in themselves, but a place where God’s creation can be seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and felt all over the earth. Simplicity can be a way of life regardless of location, and lifelong friendships are also developed at school, church, and workplaces. However, at Camp Mennoscah, all of these factors are woven together into a unique web, all of which contribute to a knowledge and tangibility of God’s presence here. The absence of one part would reduce the level of meaning expressed by the whole, and God’s kingdom would be much less visible in the camp experience without all parts.

And so we continue to come back, returning to this sacred space where the abundant life we encounter through people and creation reminds us that God is near.

Michael Unruh and Olivia Bartel are executive director and camp director at Camp Mennoscah, Murdock, KS. Italicized lines from “What is this place?” in Hymnal: A Worship Book, Huub Oosterhuis, Zomaar een dak boven wat hoofden, 1968; David Smith, trans., ca. 1970.