Kamp Kumbaya

I grew up as a member of the Church of God of Prophecy. It is a small denomination founded in the early 1900s. Like most organized religions, it is controlled by instilling fear in its members. There was never a more clear or vivid example of this than one of the weeks I spent at Kamp Kumbaya, our church summer camp. I was so excited to get there and meet the other children who, like me, were 12-13 years old. There were a handful of Baptist kids who were also there. The routine of the day was breakfast, Bible classes, and recreation. We were all assigned to cabins with bunk beds and a cabin leader. At night we would have a worship service with lots of singing, preaching, and seeking God at the altar. Kids were speaking in tongues, crying and embracing each other in a beautiful way. The Baptist kids had never heard people speak in tongues and seemed a bit freaked out. Each night after the alter call died down kids would get up on stage and stand by our camp director, Brother Johnny Jones and tell the congregation that God had come into their heart.

One evening as we were getting dressed for that night's service Brother Smith came to our cabin. He had a very serious look on his face. He asked all of us boys to gather around. He said he had some very serious news to tell us. He said that the Russians had just invaded America and had chosen Kamp Kumbaya as their first target. We were speechless and full of fear. I will never forget a little black boy who started crying and asked to use the telephone to call his mother. Our cabin leader said that the phone lines had been cut and that the Russian soldiers were already on the premises. The plan was this, we would quietly walk to the cafeteria and worship God by candlelight and hope the Russians wouldn't find us. As we walked up the trail to the cafeteria a man wearing a pillowcase over his head and holding a shotgun appeared from behind a tree. He asked us where we were going and our cabin leader told him we were just taking a walk. The Russian disappeared behind a tree. A little Baptist boy who was standing beside me started to cry.

We made it alive to the cafeteria where candles were lit and all the kids and staff were sitting on the floor. Brother Jones stood up and addressed us all. He began to tell us that we must stand up for Jesus no matter what may happens on this night. All of sudden, six men with hoods over their heads and shotguns burst through the cafeteria door and grabbed Brother Jones. One of them said "Brother Jones, you've preached your last sermon." They dragged Brother Jones outside. As they were dragging him out they happened to walk by where I was sitting and one of the Russians kicked me and my friend, Howie. As soon as they got outside we heard shotgun blast. I can't fully explain the terror we felt. Children were screaming, praying and crying. I will never forget I saw a boy next to me start convulsing and shaking until he passed out. They had killed Brother Jones and they would probably kill us too. We were helpless children.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Brother Jones came walking back into the cafeteria. He was unharmed. All of us kids stared at our leader as if we were asking him what the hell just happened. He stood there silently for a long moment and then he said this, " You see kids, this is what can happen if you don't live for God." After this mind scarring event we had Coca Cola, chips and candy bars before going back to our cabins for a good night's rest. The next day we resumed our daily routine of Bible classes and recreation as if nothing had happened. The Russians were actually camp staff members.

If this true story of terrorizing innocent children were an isolated incident I would feel no productive reason to tell it. However, unfortunately, this method of recruiting and controlling members into the Church of God of Prophecy is still in practice. My nieces and nephews have told me multiple stories of similar frightening scenarios that were orchestrated and carried out on them by the current Kamp Kumbaya staff. My own daughter went there for a week of summer fun only to wind up calling us crying to come home because she was afraid. Needless to say no one in my family will ever go to Kamp Kumbaya again.

Here is my point. You can scare people into doing just about anything, but fear tactics aren't ever going to be effective in the long run. There is only one thing that people will consistently gravitate toward and that is being loved. All people want to know that somebody cares about them. When you care about others most of them will start to care about you in return. I believe that this philosophy in life could build an unbreakable chain. Politicians would tell the truth. Young soldiers wouldn't have to die. Innocent Iraqi civilians would be able to sleep at night and their children would be safe. And last, but certainly not least, the future generation of youngsters who go to Kamp Kumbaya would leave their week-long summer retreat with nothing but happy memories of softball games, canoe rides, and joyful swimming and fishing in the big muddy lake.

Paul's latest CD is LONG WAY FROM TUPELO
www.paulthorn.com