On the first two days of March, over 60 Catholic students from various universities gathered for a training camp along a windswept beach. The event, “Integrating Ecology in the Life of the Catholic Faith”—hosted by the ecology ministry of the Vietnamese Jesuits—was a blend of learning, bonding, and spiritual awakening. The keynote talk, group discussions, debate competition, music night, sunrise walking meditation, cleanup activity, “soul trash” reflection, and closing Mass brought us closer to God’s creation and our role within it.
The camp opened with a keynote that rooted us in Genesis 1:31—“God saw all He made, and it was very good”—and Laudato Sí, presenting the earth as our “common home”. The speaker’s words struck me deeply: “This planet isn’t just a resource; it’s a sacred gift, entrusted to us with love, like a precious offering between lovers—not to be squandered.”
Imagining God handing us forests, rivers, and creatures, I felt both awe and guilt for my past indifference. During the group discussions that followed, one participant, Thuy, raised a thought-provoking question: “How do we live ecologically when others don’t care?” The speaker’s response was personal and firm: “It’s not about them—it’s my choice, my commitment, my faith lived daily.” That afternoon, a debate competition brought ecological issues to life. Groups argued passionately, offering evidence and perspectives that broadened our understanding of environmental challenges.
Later, swimming and a music night along the beach shifted our focus. The waves and sea breeze reminded us that nature isn’t just a problem to debate—it’s a tender, living space to embrace. These moments deepened our connection with each other and nature. At dawn, we embarked on a barefoot walking meditation, breathing in salty air as the horizon glowed. Reflecting on Genesis 2:15—our call to “tend and keep”—I felt nature’s sacred embrace. “It was peaceful, like the sea welcomed me,” one student shared.
This led to a beach cleanup, where pairs of hands cleared plastic bags and waste. Though small, this act stirred emotions and awareness, linking care for nature with care for human relationships. “Good relationships will make the natural environment healthy,” a participant observed, tying our “soul trash” reflection—letting go of frustration and jealousy—to ecological stewardship.
The camp concluded with a Mass, where the priest wove everything together: nature is God’s gift, and we are stewards, called to be signs of hope amid ecological crises. Exhausted yet inspired, those two days reshaped us. The keynote’s call to see the earth as a sacred gift, the debates’ clash of ideas, the meditation’s silence, and the cleanup’s tangible action left us ready to tend our common home. This wasn’t just a camp—it was an awakening to our faith’s ecological dimension, urging us to live intentionally for God’s creation.
