I’ve been visiting Camp Cross for over 10 years. We attended a Labor Day Family Camp with our St. James’ (Pullman, WA) parishioners and I enjoyed the glorious natural beauty, but also the fellowship among the participants. Christian community in a non-parish setting is one feature of Camp Cross that has me reminding others to “keep comin’ back! “

While wading at Crescent Beach, my wife Alison relayed her metaphor for her relationship to God.  In the cool water, she floats effortlessly.  As she returns to the rocky shore, her body becomes heavy as she leaves the (holy) water and works to carry herself. It’s harder and harder to gain ones footing.  Yet, a loving arm reaches out to help her gain stability. This arm is God’s love in the form of your loving friend. Together, you can walk the journey on hot, dry land, until you once again return to refreshing water for relief.

Additionally, Camp Cross is a holy place where I have seen miracles happen.  Of course, miracles are in the eyes of the beholder and subject to perspective. This week I have seen the miracle of change. Mid-high campers arrived on Sunday, with anxiety, fears and few friends. In just a few days, I have seen them transformed. They’ve bonded with each other, shared intense experiences, been challenged in their views of faith and even improved their table manners (yes, a great miracle indeed!).  In all seriousness, the joy shared in a small group or gathered around a summer campfire is a holy miracle repeated again and again here.  I’ve noticed another transforming miracle recently.  As I look at this year’s staff members, several have spent many years coming to Camp Cross. They’ve loved being a camper with all the newness that experience brings. Camp Cross can be an intense emotional experience of faith on a young person’s own terms, far from their parish home.  It’s their mountaintop where they gain spiritual insight. Some grow into being a counselor, learning leadership skills shepherding a small group.  This is a critical stage in the faith formation of young people. Of that group, some continue serving as permanent staff members, gaining more leadership skills at the next level, long after coming to Camp Cross for the first time.  This chain of transformative experiences shapes the lifelong faith of many.

Wednesday night, we used a meditation from Taize to focus in the darkness of the cool evening, sitting on a floating dock.  Many relaxed on their backs, pondering the universe, gazing up into the vast expanse of stars. Some reported seeing up to five shooting stars and several orbiting satellites were visible.  Amid the cool breeze, surrounded by both intimate friends and endless cosmos, God is good; Very good; Always.

The moose in question, by a grove of trees.

You know it’s going to be an interesting week when someone in your office says on Monday morning, “Did you know there’s a moose in the meditation garden?” And, indeed, there is.

A young cow moose found her way to Paulsen House late in July and was having a nice time munching on the raspberries and napping in Gloria Waggoner’s serene garden at the northwest corner of the yard.  When we called 911 (the preferred moose-reporting procedure in Spokane), a wildlife officer came to track her down. Soon he’d made a call to his department who dispatched biologists to administer a tranquilizer. This would make it safe to move her to a trailer and eventually to a new habitat near Mount Spokane.

Moose have a certain charm. When I was at Glacier National Park in June we saw a couple of moose near Many Glacier, each followed by a small army of curious tourist-photographers who seemed oblivious to the dangers of following a moose too closely. They crunched through the underbrush with zoom lenses, looking for that perfect close-up.

Urban moose are even more fascinating.  We get used to seeing skunks and raccoons and even the occasional coyote in town, but a moose is an exotic and intriguing beast. And a very big one. It takes a lot of will power (and good sense) not to follow them around like moose groupies.

I wondered, watching this lovely creature make herself at home in the garden, if when the city folk are going to the lake for the summer the moose were vacationing in the city.

The young officer spent most of the morning monitoring our moose as she wandered from the garden to the lawn to the grove of trees near Canterbury Court. We tried to be quiet and stay out of the way so that she didn’t get ’spooked’ and run into the street.

By the time the biologists and some other helpers arrived, the moose had disappeared into a thicket and, when she emerged, they administered the tranquilizer. Unfortunately, tranquility did not come right away. She bolted into the street and into a passing pickup truck. Fortunately, neither driver nor moose was hurt.

When the tranquilizer took hold our  moose collapsed near the cathedral, just outside Dean Bill Ellis’ home. The biologists and their helpers placed her in the trailer and into the care of the wildlife folks.  Just another day at the office.

Summer can be like that. Full of surprises. On a hot day in July when there were worries about the economy; when the Lambeth conference was going full-steam ahead; when our morning prayers remembered wars, disasters, famines and poverty, one of God’s magnificent creatures changed the subject for a couple of hours.  And a great big animal helped us to appreciate anew the wonders of creation.