Cara Meredith was once a Christian camp fanatic, reveling in the play-packed days and dutifully attending the nightly Bible teachings designed to bring campers straight to Jesus once they realize they’re terrible sinners. Meredith spent weeks at camp throughout her childhood, moved up to summers on staff as a young adult, and strolled across the stage as a speaker in adulthood. Now, in her forthcoming book, she hopes to prompt reform in an institution she calls socially and spiritually exclusive. PW spoke with Meredith about her pivot on the institution and her forthcoming book Church Camp: Bad Skits, Cry Night, and How White Evangelicalism Betrayed a Generation (Broadleaf, Apr.).
You loved camp for years. What changed as you grew older?
I went through a spiritual evolution and realized the places I was benefitting from as a white, straight woman weren’t benefitting those who didn’t have white skin—or those in the LGBTQ+ community. I loved camp and I love the idea of camp, but I benefited from it and found a home and identity in it because I was what camp was looking for. My loudest and silliest self is what camp wanted. As my beliefs, practices and faith changed, I didn’t fit into the camp environment anymore.
Why do you write that Christian camps “betrayed” young people?
To me, camp betrayed who Jesus really is, who God really is, what faith is supposed to be by making “belonging” a caveat. You had to look and believe a certain way instead of letting kids be kids. The whole point was to make kids feel like shit about themselves so they could accept what Jesus was offering. It became a transactional type of faith, and that’s the betrayal. That is not who God is and not who Jesus is.
What is your message to former campers?
First, I hope the book will serve the audience who has felt betrayed or disillusioned by camp. They have been wrestling with the shame of feeling their entire personhood was worthless unless they said yes to Jesus. Second, I critique camp now because I love camp. I’m not trying to burn camps to the ground. I hope that for those who are still in the white evangelical camping world, the book will produce conversations that produce change.
Your book describes Christian camping as insular and exclusive, saying, “look around the campfire pit and notice who’s not there.” Why must camps become more inclusive?
We bring changes to these holy places because we can’t afford to let hate and discrimination continue to fester like gaping wounds to those with whom we share a bond.
Should parents keep sending their kids to Christian camps?
The reality is that I believe in these places. Kids can get away from tech, break away from screens. But parents can go into the experience informed, having conversations with their kids beforehand or afterward. They can talk about gender exclusion, about race exclusion. Parents can say, “We don’t agree with everything, but you will benefit from being there.”
