Hooray! May is here. If you're an outdoor enthusiast, that means it's time to pack up the tent, load the backpack and hit the trail. Along with some powerful insect repellent, you don't want to forget to bring friends who will help—not hinder—the ultimate goal: fun and relaxation.

Other camping experiences have not been so pleasant. I once went camping with a group of friends from college. We weren't far into the trip when I discovered that I was the only practicing Catholic in the group.

That was fine, at first. Then we began to have a “religious discussion.” A simple discussion on the Ten Commandments took an unfortunate turn when one of the members of our group, an evangelical Protestant (we'll call him “Ed”), asserted that the Catholic Church's “worship” of Mary violated the First Commandment. He said it was a perfect example of modern-day idolatry.

I was stunned and speechless. My heart began to race and my blood began to boil. I knew I had to say something—but what? After what seemed like years, I finally managed the standard Catholic response: “Catholics don't worship Mary. We ask her to pray for us.” At that, Ed picked up his imaginary bullhorn and shouted in my ear: “But she's dead!” Flustered to the point of speechlessness, I shrugged my shoulders and changed the subject.

If Ed's objective had been to ruin my camping trip, he had succeeded. Yet his aggressive offensive also brought an unintended benefit to my spiritual life: It motivated me to seek some deeper answers after the trip ended. Here's what I found.

The source of confusion over Marian devotion is, first of all, a difference in understanding of what various words mean. Protestants like Ed tend to equate prayer with worship. Only God is worthy of worship; therefore, we should only pray to God. Catholics make a distinction between several different kinds of prayer.

In prayer, we all agree, we should give God the praise and adoration that is due him alone as our infinite, merciful creator—our savior, our lord and master of everything that exists (Catechism, No. 2096). The Catechism defines prayer, in part, as “the raising of one's mind and heart to God or the requesting of good things from God” (No. 2559).

Ed said it wasn't OK to pray to Mary because “she's dead.” What should I have said? Simply this: “She's not dead; she's alive in Christ.” How do I know she this? Well, for starters, she lived a life of faith in Christ. Scripture says she is blessed among women, she totally surrendered her will to God and she said Yes when he asked her if she would bear his Son. She was filled with Christ, she is full of grace, and her soul magnifies the Lord.

I also might have mentioned that, in their prayers, the earliest Christians invoked the names of the Christians who had died. They asked the saints and martyrs—those who had “gone to sleep” in Christ—to pray for them just as they, the living, prayed for the salvation and sanctification of one another. Death does not cause separation between Christ and the members of his body. We Christians on earth now, along with those who preceded us here, are united in his love. There are many parts of Christ's body, but there is no division among them; all parts share concern for one another (see Romans 8:38-39 and 1 Corinthians 12:25-26).

There was a time in my life that my worst camping fears were bears, snakes and mosquitoes. Since my camping trip with Ed, all that has changed. Now I fear being caught off guard by a distortion of my faith. No matter how many times I mentally replay what I should have said, I can't bring the conversation with Ed back. All I can do now is offer up a prayer on his behalf and make sure I'm ready the next time.

Christina Mills writes from

Eugene, Oregon.