Fishing for souls

More than 120 college students sat on the beach in silence late one afternoon last week.

Three wooden crosses - seven feet tall - had been pounded into the sand in front of them.

These students, from all over America, are spending two months here with the Ocean City Summer Project, the largest and oldest program of its kind run by the Campus Crusade for Christ. For 40 years, students like them have been coming here.

On the beach, they were given an assignment: "Take a moment to meditate on Philippians 2 and pray. On the index card, write down any fears and sins that are holding you back from fully surrendering to the Lord."

Some sat only minutes, others contemplated an hour. One by one, they lined up, picked up a hammer, and nailed their index cards to a cross.

What they wrote was honest and powerful, an indication that what they were trying to achieve - a closer relationship with Christ - isn't always easy:

I don't really feel it.

Not having the faith that God will fulfill all of my desires.

My hopes for a husband.

Not trusting that this is best for me.

Desiring physical intimacy.

Fear of disapproval, rejection by my father and family.

Belief holds me back more than all else. Fear of being wrong about who God is. Fear that I won't be satisfied in life if I don't have worldly things to entertain me.

Lusting after guys, thinking they will satisfy me.

My parents thinking I'm crazy.

I trust many more than you.

I'm scared of being wrong.

The students wandered off for two hours by themselves, as they do every Tuesday, for their weekly "date night with Jesus." Then they reconvened at the Ocean City Baptist Church for a service - a joyous, musical affair - in which the crosses reappeared. By now, the index cards had been painted red to symbolize Jesus' blood.

"By us nailing those to the cross, it was symbolic of how we as sinners are forgiven," said Lauren Kalan, 20, of Emmaus, near Allentown. A senior at Marymount Manhattan College, she had organized the beach ritual.

Here in Ocean City, these students have little fear of rejection or ridicule. They are surrounded, nurtured, loved by fellow students all on the same mission. One nickname for this program is "fantasy camp."

"God's really been stretching us in amazing ways," said Allison Jurecki of Ohio State University. "He's challenged me to see what my priorities are. He's challenged us to ask ourselves if we want to grow, and I've decided I do."

Each student raises $2,300 in donations to cover rent, meals and mission expenses. They work normal summer jobs - on the boardwalk, at a local surf shop, even at the reception desk of the Flanders Hotel. These jobs are seen as "ministry sites," because students share the gospel with people they meet.

Eighty of them live in the Ambassador's Inn, an old rooming house at 13th and Central without air-conditioning, except for one basement lounge known as the pennant room. (The rest are scattered in housing nearby.) They sleep in bunk beds, six to a room, and being college kids, their rooms often look as if a hurricane had just hit.

The house has no television, but it does have wireless Internet so students can keep up with friends and family via e-mail.

Two students shop and cook dinners (Mexican food is a favorite). They buy 72 gallons of milk a week (24 skim, 24 1-percent, 20 2-percent, and four whole milk.)

No beer is allowed because Ocean City is a dry town and many of the students are underage. There was a keg of root beer in the house, but that was for a beach party where they sprayed one another with whipped cream. A few students said they do drink alcohol, but it's not central to their lives.

As for earthly pleasures, "I think the biggest thing I'm going to miss here other than the people is, probably, Wawa," said Vince Garvey, 20, from San Diego State University, as other students sighed in agreement.

And, of course, with 124 college students, there is romance.

"The running joke," said Paul Haugen, a senior at Cal Poly Pomona in California, "is if you go on project in Ocean City, you may find a mate."

Laura Holmes, 19, of Arizona State University, and Jason Jackson, 20, of Northwestern University in Illinois, were this summer's first "project couple" - and so far, surprisingly, the only one.

Many students have significant others back home, and this crowd is faithful in more ways than one. Many resist getting involved with someone who lives far away.

"It gets difficult at times," said Tamar Drayton, 20, who attends Cal Poly Pomona, "because it's like everything you look for in a husband or wife, like, someone who just has a heart after God, and just somebody who just has that passion... like, that's almost everybody here."

Many students stress that they're here for the Lord, not love. "My focus is to meet with the Lord and be excited for him to grow me this summer," said Jennifer Ip, also from Cal Poly Pomona.

Drayton agreed, and added wistfully, "But we have some great guys here, I'll tell you that much. Great guys."

The students come to Ocean City to improve their leadership and evangelical skills. Full-time Crusade staff spend half the summer with the students, then leave them to run the program themselves.

Every night, students hit the boardwalk to share their passion for Jesus. By their tally, they have spoken with 8,000 people this summer and converted 300 people to Christ.

Andrea Crates, 20, of the University of Toledo, and Sarah Hinshaw, 20, of Wittenberg University, both in Ohio, recounted the night they met a middle-age, unemployed man named Rich. Rich said he was an alcoholic, dry for just two days. Hinshaw ministered to him and, she said, Rich told her that was what he'd "been longing for, waiting for."

While Hinshaw spoke with Rich, Crates served as a verbal punching bag for Rich's partner, a woman who berated Crates for preaching the Gospel. In the end, Crates said it was good for her to withstand the abuse, that it was all part of her growth as an evangelist. And only by her diverting Rich's partner, she said, could Rich hear the word of God.

"We saw Rich three days later," Crates said, "and he got a job as a dishwasher. It was amazing to see how quickly God worked."