Keeping the Faith in the Ozarks

Branson, Mo., is a toned-down, G-rated version of Las Vegas, with the pulsing neon along the Route 76 strip advertising the tourists' "big three": shopping, eating and live entertainment.

Tony Melendez, the guitarist born without arms who played for Pope John Paul II's visit to the U.S.
in 1987, had his own show on the Branson strip for three years until he gave it up to bring others to the Lord through his music. For the last five years he and his wife Lynn have brought their gifts to a very specific audience: the scattering of Catholic students at the College of the Ozarks, two miles south of Branson.

Catholic Extension helps fund the campus ministry here, which is known as CCNA - the Catholic Christian Newman Associa­tion. The name might seem redundant, Lynn Melen­dez says, except that some students on the campus didn't realize that Catholics were Christian.

Catholics outnumbered

Baptists in Taney County in southwestern Mis­souri outnumber Catholics by a ratio of at least 3-to-1. And on the tranquil college campus, where dairy cows provide the live entertainment each evening as they amble from the milking barn out to pasture, those odds are even greater. The school was founded by Presbyterians, but the student population today is heavily Baptist. Of the school's 1,400 students, only about 60 are Catholic, the Melendezes estimate.

Lynn, with a degree in elementary education and background in youth ministry for the Diocese of Dallas, juggles the details of the ministry along with the demands of raising the couple's two children, Marisa, 13, and Andres, 10. Tony lends his musical talents, though he is on the road about 20 days a month as an entertainer and inspirational speaker 

"When we took over the CCNA ministry, only about five people showed up - the officers - and that was so disappointing," Lynn remembers. She obtained the roster of enrolled Catholic students from the college and urged CCNA members who showed up to invite others to join them.

"I told the students, ‘I could be the one out there inviting people, but YOU have to be the evangelizers,'" Lynn explains. So the students got busy fixing up gift boxes, with goodies and personal notes, and dropped them off in the Catholic students' rooms.

That worked to break the ice, and more students started to drop in on meetings. College, especially freshman year, can be a lonely time. It's lonelier still when you're really outnumbered, and your classmates have pre-conceived notions about you that are rather odd ­- or even mean.

Zac Thielemier, a 21-year-old animal science major from Pocahontas, Ark., says it used to throw him when non-Catholic classmates would make cracks about where they thought he was spending his Saturday nights. (The school has a zero tolerance policy on drugs and alcohol, and students found using either on campus face sure suspension.)

Despite the fact that he works long hours in the campus dairy and the last bottle he handled fed a baby calf, Thielemier says other classmates would bait him with remarks like, "You Catholics probably know where all the good party spots are in Branson." He shrugs. "We try our best to take up for ourselves."

‘Saved every day'

Mandy Renyer, a sophomore from Goddard, Kansas, is a sweet-natured girl who wants to be a grade school math teacher. The scarcity of Catholics in Branson, she says, contributes to mixed-up ideas about the Church and its members. "A lot of people have no idea what we're like. They say, ‘You can go out on Saturday night and drink and confess and then everything's fine again.' I wasn't good at explaining things."

Mandy's parents met at the college, and her mother became a Catholic before they married. Her father reads the Bible regularly, and when Mandy gets the inevi­table question, "Are you saved?" he taught her to put a big smile on her face and reply, "Yes, I am - on a daily basis!"

 

But Lynn knows the students need more than snappy one-liners. They have legitimate questions, both to navigate the pitfalls that college students face and to counter the foggy notions that surround the Church in these parts of the Bible Belt.

Lee Berhorst, CCNA's student president, came to the school from Jefferson City, Mo., a German Catholic enclave with three large Catholic churches in the city alone. Yet he says nothing prepared him for the "whys": Why do you worship Mary? Why do you pray to the saints? Why do you chant during your services?
So, with Lynn's encouragement, the weekly meetings became sessions to make students "why-ser." Between pizza parties and gab­fests, they invited guest speakers in. Once a semester, Lynn scheduled a session on apologetics where they can ask any questions they have about the Faith.

Father Rick Jones, pastor of Our Lady of the Lake Parish in Branson, offers Mass once a month on campus and provides some of the answers. And sometimes, Lynn says, "I just come with our apologetics books, and we look the answers up together."

Anyone who's interested can come. A Baptist student who was watching the Melendez children shyly asked if she could sit in. "She was great, leading prayers, encouraging students to open up to each other," Lynn says. "I told her, ‘You're welcome any time!'"

To work and to serve

Her students are far from just a social club, Lynn says proudly. "They really want to learn. They come with the attitude, ‘We're here to work; we're here to serve.'" And also to provide a window into their Church.
Tony has performed for campus convocations, which students can elect to attend as part of their re­quirements for graduation. The show includes a video of his life story, including the historic mo­ment when he was em­braced by Pope John Paul II.

"I held my breath the first time we showed it," Lynn recalls, "be-cause this isn't a Catholic school, and here we are showing a movie that includes the pope!"

She didn't need to worry. Tony has been invited back twice since - with a larger and more enthusiastic audience every time he takes the stage.