I was twelve? Or maybe thirteen. I can't remember exactly. But this is what I do know. I know that I was at some Baptist summer youth camp with a lot of other kids. Kids that I didn't know and that I didn't exactly care to know. I remember feeling awkward and alone. I remember wondering how it was that I had gotten there and why my parents, who were Catholic, had let me come.
This particular night me and all the other kids sat in a university auditorium. The space was too large for the number of kids that were in attendance so a huge black tarp cut the room in half. I am not sure why they did this. The lights were dim and there was a low rustling of words and chatter among the kids. The chairs seemed old. The walls seemed old. Everything seemed old. But I liked it. I liked the fact that this room was old and that it had been worn in. "Maybe some other interesting things have happened in this room," I remember thinking. Then a guy with a guitar came out onto the stage. He was wearing cool sneakers and a shirt with a 7-up logo on it. He asked us to bow our heads and to pray with him. We did. I did.
Then, with our heads still bowed he began to play. At first it was real quiet and I could barely hear him. I didn't recognize the song or the lyrics, but everyone else seemed to. I felt awkward. I felt out of place. I felt like leaving.
They...I mean the pastor guy had been talking about Jesus and God all week long. He talked about "saving" and "grace" and "sin". These things, to me, really didn't mean to much. I just liked playing football with the other guys during free-time. During that week I had made a really great pass and all of the older college leaders made me feel really good about it after. I liked that part. But this heaven/God/Jesus thing was not like making a good pass during football and I was not sure that I liked it.
I sat low in my chair while the 7-up guy kept playing. My friend John was standing up next to me with his hands in air. Why were his hands in the air? Why were anybody's hands in the air? It was awkward. I felt out of place still.
After a couple of songs about Jesus the 7-up guy stopped singing. He kept strumming his guitar but now he was talking about the spirit. I am guessing this was the spirit of God or Jesus. Was it a ghost? Did he float around the room? I was unsure at the time. But what he was talking about sounded good. It sounded comforting. Then he started talking about Jesus and that sounded even more comforting. When he talked about Jesus it was like he was telling a story about one of my friends. I liked that.
Then he said we were going to sing a few more songs.
This time I stood up. John looked over to me and smiled and kinda let out a half-laugh. But I hadn't done anything funny. I hadn't told a joke or made a funny face. Why was he so happy? It almost frustrated me because I felt like I was missing out on something fun and good. But then he just looked forward and held up his hands again. Again, awkward. One or two songs went by and I was still standing and still not sure why. But then there was a moment in that auditorium that my whole earth stood still.
To someone else it may not have seemed so grand. But to me it was. It was great. It was freedom from...something. I was not sure what yet. But I started singing and rocking back and forth and I even think one of my hands was up in the air. It's a blur of sorts. But the next thing I knew I was on the ground crying. And I don't mean just soft "I'm sorry for breaking moms favorite dish" crying but deep stomach hurting, fist pounding weeps. I don't even remember what it was in the song that triggered it. Who cares I suppose.
The thing that got me was something that I experienced when I was on the old, cold auditorium floor. As I lie weeping, snot and tears taking up their rightful real-estate, I looked to my right to see one of the older men who was a pastor or a youth teacher or something. He was looking at me as though I was the most pathetic thing he had ever seen. It was, in a whole new way, awkward. But I didn't feel awkward and I didn't care. I just knew that what I was experiencing was real and good and perfect and genuine and grand. I liked it. I loved it.
After we were all done with the singing and the "hands up in the air" thing we went and played some more football. I think I made another good pass or did something well because everyone was very proud of me and happy and they smiled when they saw me. Now I know why.
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