““Go!”, and six middle schoolers sprint into the woods to find a tennis ball.
In June, I spent three days camping with the headmaster and the history teacher of our middle school, together with a small group of students. It is the second time that we have done this. Compared to the retreats that other groups put on for young people, our proposal is much more simple. We do not have grand meetings or witnesses, games or the other various activities to which we are accustomed. Going camping together has just one goal: that some young people can spend some time with the adults and do something beautiful together.
On the first day, after setting up our tents and taking a walk to see a bit of the area, we celebrated Mass and had dinner. The kids washed dishes and went to look for wood while we adults built a fire and set up our area. Right away, we noticed how two simple requests -looking for wood and washing dishes- posed a challenge to the kids. They are used to living in a world where everything is mediated and contact with others is usually indirect, through books or screens. Even when they have to do something hands-on, like sports or chores around the house, they follow precise instructions that help them be efficient, so that they can effectively suspend their freedom. When they are told to find firewood, they struggle to put things together. And they might even start bringing little sticks the size of toothpicks.
Other times, it is enough simply to have a ball thrown into the woods and see what happens
That’s how it works with games, too: as soon as they’ve had some free time, such as after dinner, they start playing what they’re used to. They got a tennis ball, looked for sticks, drew four bases on the ground, and the baseball game started.
And so, partly to challenge them, partly because it was funny, I said to them: “Do this: one of you throws the ball into the woods and the first to find it gets a point.” They looked at me in the face flabbergasted for a minute, and then one of them decided: “I’ll start!”. They played this little game for more than two hours straight. I could not believe it. There is no more banal game than this, and yet it enlivened them. Not because the rules were convincing or because going into the woods was particularly fascinating: at most, they were able to throw the ball twenty or so yards and normally they would find it in under a minute. And yet, something was happening.
The next morning we wake up cold and light a fire to warm up a bit. We prepare breakfast and packed lunch for the outing, then sit around the fire to eat eggs and pancakes.
As we sit in a circle, I ask them, “In your opinion, what is better: last night’s game or an evening spent playing Fortnite (one of their favorite video games, ed.)?” They respond impetuously, “Without a doubt, last night’s game.” I continued, “What’s better: this fire this morning or Minecraft (another beloved video game)?” “This fire!” they all say together. “But why?” I ask. “Because this fire is real.” Sometimes you have to have great discussions and prepare gestures in which the beauty and truth of Christ can emerge. Other times, it is enough simply to have a ball thrown into the woods and see what happens. Reality speaks, and if our kids can encounter it, the truth and beauty of the Lord will make itself explicit.
