For those of you who
missed the Q, the title was a reference to an old James Bond movie, starring
Sean Connery. Anyway...
I want to dedicate a
post reflecting on my experiences at Duke Youth Academy up in North Carolina,
and the Strategic Intelligence camp at Patrick Henry College, up in Virginia.
For additional information about both, check out their respective website
links:
My attendance at both
camps has been the reason for my lack of posting, but I hope to get into a more
familiar rhythm for the coming weeks!
As I stepped out of
United Airlines Flight 3560, a queer aura of apprehension overwhelmed me.
Though the flight barely scratched the 3 hour mark (and I had gotten plenty of
sleep) I still felt slightly fazed, as though I could not quite believe that I
was in North Carolina, about to spend a week at Duke University, with 25
students who came from all over the nation. As I grabbed my 48.9 pound suitcase
(just barely passing weight regulations!) out of the baggage claim conveyor belt
and began walking towards two individuals who had DUKE YOUTH ACADEMY plastered
at the front of their shirts, a new ambiance came over me. This time, it was
one of nervousness and trepidation. This was NOT the first time I had been away
from home, and out of state before, but the fact that I would have to leave my
comfort zone and be subjected to different Christian denominations and hear new
theology was nerve wracking. The numerous strategies that I had practiced to
reassure myself had disappeared. I greeted the two individuals warmly (both
would be mentors at camp) and I joined the rest of the students who had arrived
to Duke via airplane, at a nearby Starbucks. Little did I know that the similar
overwhelming feeling I experienced would be replicated throughout my next week
at Duke, but rather than a feeling of timidity, it would be a feeling of amazement
and wonder at the power, sovereignty, and righteousness of God.
Through Duke Youth
Academy’s rigorous “monastic-like” schedule, I challenged my mind in the
morning, body in the afternoon, and my spirit at night. Having to wake up at
6:00 every morning was an unpleasant adjustment I had to make, but one that I
gradually got used to as the week went on. I also took on a “water challenge”,
and attempted to drink nothing but water during my time there (even though the
numerous sweet teas, sodas, and juices wished to claim my taste buds). The day
would begin with a heavenly breakfast, and immediately after breakfast would be
Morning Prayer, which took place at Duke’s chapel. Walking through the colossal
behemoth of a building humbled me as I would be reminded about how in the grand
scheme of things, my Earthly concerns mattered very little. We would walk in
singing In the Lord I’ll be ever thankful and hearing the congregation’s
voice echo and resound throughout the stained glass walls would give me goose
bumps every time. It was during Morning Prayer where we would sing some fairly
old hymns, but all of which quickly became my favorite songs and ones that I
currently sing passionately around my home today (much to the chagrin of my
younger sibling). Songs such as Standing on the Promises, Siyahamba/We
are marching, Jesus in the Morning, They’ll know we are
Christians by our love, Go now in peace, Standing in the need of
prayer, and Be present at our table lord struck me by their poignant
lyrics and brutal honesty about the sinfulness of the human heart, while also
emphasizing the omnipotent and mighty power of God, who increases grace
wherever sin increases. Prior to camp, I had laughed at hymns, admiring their
lyrics while criticizing the lack of a “cool beat” and “soul” that was found in
modern contemporary Christian artists such as Lecrae, tobyMac, Mandisa, Natalie
Grant, Matthew West, and Chris Tomlin. However, after the first day of Morning
Prayer, I was humbled and struck by the power of such hymns. While I still
admire the contemporary Christian artists, my admiration has increased for
music that sacrifices beat and rhythm for soul and lyrics. Furthermore, I
usually do not like to sing out loud, but after my time at Duke, I am not
afraid to put my vocal cords to work and sing for God. Once the congregation
had finished singing, we were invited to openly state our prayer requests and
then meditate silently while the preacher read a few verses of Scripture.
After Morning Prayer,
the day would shift to a more academic atmosphere. The “academy” portion of
this program was centered on theology, church history, and Christian practices,
all of which would be implemented through lectures, Morning Prayer, workshops,
and chapel. Every day, I would be taught by special speakers, participate in
special workshops, and open my eyes to the new ways I could experience God and
use my gifts to serve his kingdom. The lectures (or plenary as it was also
called) were taught by top-notch theology professors who spoke about topics
ranging from creation, baptism, eschatology, merism, and worship. During this
time, I heard familiar topics spun in a different way that I had not heard of
before. Since many of the speakers were of different denominations (Catholic,
Episcopalian, Anglican, Methodist, and Covenant to name a few) the way they
viewed certain topics was much different from my Baptist views and upbringing.
For example, one professor compared the Creation story to a great visual narrative
epic, and pointed out how poetic God was when he created all our universe.
Another speaker brought up the interesting possibility that Heaven would come
to humanity when Jesus returns, rather than all of us ascending into heaven.
Lastly, a professor stated that Jesus gave up being a creator (or gave up his
creator-like powers) to become a creation. This stark contrast tore to the core
of my heart as I realized the extent of Jesus’ love for me.
But Duke Youth Academy
wasn’t all about work, and no play. Snack, worship workshops (more on that in a
bit), lunch, and free time would proceed immediately after lectures in perfect
harmony and synchronization, like a tower of Jenga blocks. If I was not
studiously writing down notes or singing thousand year-old hymns, you could
have found me playing card games (Mao, Spoons, Nerts, War, Egyptian Ratslap,
and Mauiii), going to the Duke Divinity School Bookstore to pick up some Blue
Devil attire, sleeping in an air-conditioned room, walking around the Duke
garden, playing frisbee, going for walks, preparing with the music group for
worship service, or talking with friends. Duke’s campus was massive and there
was always something fun to do both outside and inside. Free time was only for two
hours, but that was more than enough time for me to explore the campus and get
to know the people at the camp.
Another important aspect
of camp was the worship/living theology workshops. The term “worship” had
always been an obscure one for me, for I knew that there were several different
components to worship but I had never been given a clear definition. Through
the worship workshops I learned that worship, at its heart, is the
glorification of the triune God. It is proclaiming who God is, giving thanks, and
reflecting. But most importantly it was a pattern in which we should base our
lives upon. Worship’s four key components: Gathering, Proclamation,
Thanksgiving/Communion, and Sending/Benediction should be the basis in which we
should base our Christian walk. Just as important as the worship workshops were
the living theology workshops. For these, special guests would speak about how
they turned their God-given talents into gifts to serve God. A media
anthropologist, comic book artist, and spoken word poet all offered their life
stories and showed how they were engaging in ministry work through the use of
their gifts. As an aspiring anthropologist, a lover of comic books, and a poet,
seeing all of these passions come together was encouraging for me. Marlon Hall,
the media anthropologist, went around chronicling the “untold” stories of
people in Houston, Texas. He would then make mini documentaries detailing the
joys, hardships, and struggles each person went through. Charlie Baber, the
comic book artist combined the richness of church history and the idiosyncratic
mannerisms of pop culture into a hilarious, witty, and heartwarming comic book
strip series entitled The Wesley Bros. Lastly, poet JE transformed his
personal adversities and life experiences into beautifully spun poetry that
gave me goose bumps every time he spoke.
The last and perhaps the
best component of the camp was the evening chapel and the small group
reflection time that came after. One of the most exciting components of this
was that it was mostly youth led (with the exception of the sermon messages,
preparing of the sacraments, and benedictions). I myself was able to play the
saxophone for one of the services, read responsive readings, and read a piece
of scripture. Other youth performed roles such as singing, playing the
piano/guitar/violin/percussion, blessing the congregation with holy tap water
and a palm branch, performing poems, lighting candles, and the distributing the
elements (bread and grape juice/wine). The other interesting aspect of evening
chapel was that each night, we would experience a different denominational
style of worship. These ranged from Methodist, World, Episcopalian, and a few
others. Because of the diverse church services, I acquired new vernacular such
as monastic, acolyte, and sacrament. The services were lively and I was deeply
moved each night, reminded at how even with different denominations, the gospel
of God was not tarnished. This community showed that despite doctrinal
differences, we could still stand united as the church of Christ. However,
there was one minor difference that I still hold on to strongly, despite what
others may believe: the necessity of having grape juice (instead of real wine)
during communion. On the evening of the Episcopalian service, the time came to
take communion and I stood up to take the elements. Prior to that night, the
communion bread stayed the same but Welch’s grape juice was used as substitute
for real wine. Every time I had taken communion, I had always expected it to be
grape juice and my taste buds were NOT ready for the real thing of fermented
grapes. As soon as I dipped the bread into the purple elixir and popped it in
my mouth, my taste buds cringed, my throat clamped up tight, and I almost spat
out the whole thing, stunned by the robust and horrendous taste. Luckily, my
hand was quicker than my digestive system and I quickly clenched my mouth shut
and swallowed the morsels. I guess I could say I truly experienced God in a
powerful and unique way. Like...very powerful...
Lastly, I led in a small
group by two mentors (Dominique and Jennifer) as well as a mentor intern
(Hope). After a long day of theology and fun, this time of peaceful transition
and discussion was the most refreshing and fruitful. Dominique, Jennifer, and
Hope were great mentors who would always answer any questions I had, talk with
me, and pray for what was going on in my life. The students in my group (though
we were all initially nervous to speak) were talking nonstop and creating a
(peaceful) ruckus within the room. I got to hear the harrowing yet truly
beautiful backstories of all the campers and marvel at how God was able to work
in many different ways. Above all, this was one of the most important lessons I
learned at Duke. Growing up, I used to think that there was only “one way to
worship” or “one way to pray” but seeing all of these diverse methods and
stories merge to one holistic community reminded me that that is what the body
of Christ is like.
I left on Saturday, teary-eyed
and dismal that the one-week of residency was over (we would still be able to
connect through online methods) but I also left refined through the fires of
faith, and eager to use my gifts for the betterment of God when I got back
home. But first, I had to go through one last camp...
The rusty pick-up truck
moved through the sylvan forest before finally bumping into the front of a
large Jefferson monument-like edifice, decked with six giant stone pillars and
grand steps that immediately required you to sit down and take a selfie before
moving on. As I paid the driver, thanked him for his services, and put my foot
(for the first time!) on Virginia soil (or rather, concrete) I could feel the
pleasant ambiance shift into one of hostility and insecurity. From now on,
every step I made had to be without suspicion. Every conversation, every
interaction, and mannerism had to appear natural and above reproach, all of
which was meant to hide my true motives. This marked the first day (of five)
where my name would be taken from me, my identity stolen, and I would begin a
new life, severing all connections with my past self.
To give you some
background, I participated in a Strategic Intelligence camp at Patrick Henry
College, up in Virginia. For those who do not know, strategic intelligence is
the process by which specific types of information important to national
security are requested, collected, analyzed and provided to policy
makers. For my week at the camp, I would learn the inside and outside of the multiple
intelligence agencies that existed and live a life of an intelligence worker.
In total, there were probably over 160 students at the camp, a hefty increase
from the small group of 26 I was used to at Duke Youth Academy. I (along with
the other members in my dorm wing) were physically, mentally, and spiritually
challenged during our time there. Some of these activities were in tandem with
Duke Youth Academy’s schedule, while other challenges were unique. For example,
at Duke, my roommate and I messily left our snacks, repugnant clothes, and
shower materials strewn all over the floor whereas at Patrick Henry, each dorm
wing had the chance to acquire a cumulative set of points (those with the most
points would win the “Party in a Bag”) and such points could be acquired by
keeping one’s dorm room clean enough to pass cleaning inspection. I was
subjected to the “horrendous” chores of cleaning urinals, scrubbing showers,
vacuuming, removing dust, making the bed, and cleaning the sinks. The day began
at 6:00 (had adjusted to that time by now) and immediately all members of my
dorm wing had to be subjected to the tortures listed above. The day would end
at 11:00, and in between, every nook and cranny of time was filled with
activities (all of which were engaging and convivial). Intelligence experts
ranging from retired air force officers to counterintelligence spy officials
gave lively presentations that dealt with topics such as the moral ethics
behind the US government, the technology that real-life spies use for missions
in the field today, the history of hacking, and the geopolitical mistakes that
could have easily been avoided in the Korean War, Vietnam War, and 9/11. In
addition to these lectures, members of my team and I would have to respond to
simulated threats against the US government using the strategies and skills
learned in the lectures. I was surprised at what the real-life side of the
intelligence profession looked like and how complex the problems were. Rescuing
hostages seized by Syrian officials was not as simple as sending in Seal Team
6, equipping them with military-grade Mossberg 500s and AK-47s, blowing up the
bad guys, and establishing peace relations. Rather, it required extensive
communication with the Department of Defense and the President’s cabinet.
Events that threatened national security could not be solved in a two hour
action thriller, but instead had to be carefully thought out and planned. On
the final day of the camp, all of the campers took on various roles of the
numerous intelligence agencies, and collectively we had to end World War III
(The United States, Israel, and Japan vs Russia, Syria, and North Korea), stop
a Cyber-attack from China, destroy a biological disease that was sweeping
through the nation, and make sure the acting president did not get impeached.
All of these things in six days!
However, the crux and
underbelly of the camp lay in secret identities. Prior to arrival, I was given
a new name and backstory by the campus coordinators: I was now Daniel Barry, a
23 year old college student from Oklahoma City who was interning with the NSA.
For that week I would be at camp, I would have to act on that alias the whole
time. I was warned that I needed to develop a complex and believable
backstory about myself so I could survive (cue dramatic music) INTERROGATION.
Men (and women) in black would often storm in during meal times and pull aside
several unsuspecting campers to be interrogated, where the campers would be
asked various questions detailing their “identity”. I myself was called by the
interrogators one evening during dinner, placed in a dark room with one
flickering light, and bombarded with questions designed to make sure I had
really researched the NSA and Oklahoma City. The interrogators would ask
questions about my address, what the city was like, and a plethora of other
questions that I had to be ready to answer on command. It was a (somewhat)
scary but also very entertaining and helpful for I got a glimpse as to what
real interrogations were like. Campers were also tasked with uncovering as many
“real names” of other campers as they could (doing so would earn their team
points). The ambiance of competition and fear mixed in with feelings of
camaraderie made for an amazing camp experience. To wrap up the action-packed
day would be evening chapel. Though the building was much smaller than Duke’s,
the close and tight-knit feel gave worship a more personal touch. I was
reminded about how even in a profession that requires one to constantly lie,
God’s word continues to reign true and as Christians, we must hold on to that
truth.
Going
to both of these camps, I was extremely humbled at the dedication and passion
the counselors and the on-campus staff displayed. I was reminded what it meant
to truly serve one's community and to use the God-given gifts one has received
to pursue justice and goodness within ones residential area. During this time,
I was reminded even as young high school students, it is important that we
develop skills such as faith, self-discipline, and restraint before we head off
to college. We are called by God to be pioneers and explore the unknown, while
spreading his gospel. We must conquer the fear and trepidations that we hold
and emerge from the tests of fire and adventure more mature than before. I
thank God for my experience at both camps, and can’t wait to see what he has in
store for me in the future!
