A loud boom echoes across the college campus like an explosion from a Civil War cannon. Unaware, Bob Rhoads strolls past Gothic-style buildings and neatly trimmed hedges. Moments later, another boom thunders across the quiet campus.

Bob hears nothing.

The football team can't hear the booms either, but they feel each rumbling vibration from a large drum on the field. With each thump, the players snap to attention like sentinels, ready to run drills or plays from scrimmage. Like most of their schoolmates, the Gallaudet University Bison are deaf. They attend the world's only university for the deaf, located in Washington, D.C.

Without the calls of the players or the whistle of the referee, football would be total chaos. The drum makes football possible for Gallaudet athletes. In the same way, Bob Rhoads helps make something else possible to the deaf community: faith in Jesus.

Many deaf people have experienced isolation in church, without someone to explain what is going on. Today, less than 2 percent of deaf people profess to be Christians, according to Deaf Missions.

"A lot of deaf people think Christianity is just for hearing people," says Tami Jo Aanrud, a sophomore at Gallaudet.

As a staff member with Campus Crusade for Christ, Bob teaches students like Tami Jo about a faith that goes beyond hearing.

For more than 10 years, Bob has led a ministry at Gallaudet. Besides being a campus leader, Bob, 40, is a church leader, a husband to his deaf wife, Karen, and father of four hearing children.

It's a Monday night on campus. Bob and seven students gather in a classroom with a large blackboard for prayer. Laura McNair begins to pray, signing with her eyes closed. Instead of closing their eyes to pray, the rest of the group carefully watches her hand movements.

"Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful day," Laura signs. Someone yells loudly in the hallway, but naturally, no one looks up. "Open our hearts," she continues, "and fill us with Your words."

Bob taught many of the students to pray in such group settings. Campus Crusade, called C³ (C cubed) at Gallaudet, is like a crash course in Christian fellowship.

A few years ago, Bob introduced worship music at the weekly meeting. Using a CD with only bass and a backbeat, the concept is similar to the football drum. "We can't hear the music, but we can feel it," says Bob. Staying together musically can be difficult—signing hands can't clap to the beat. The activity is a stretch, but the students are learning.

Bible studies can be challenging, too, especially because English is the second language of the deaf. The first, American Sign Language, is visual and, Bob explains, difficult to translate word for word into English.

	Making Noise | Today, Bob Rhoads (above) develops Christian deaf leaders on campus.

In the basement of the campus library, he leads a study of John 14:6 with two students. "What are some claims that Jesus made?" Bob asks. Jonathan Nash, a senior studying accounting, scrunches his brow questioningly.

The Bible is full of terms not widely known among the deaf, and Bob spends a lot of energy simply teaching terminology. In a perfect world, most deaf Christians would already have such knowledge. The problem is a lack of leadership.

"Deaf spiritual leaders are not being developed and it becomes a cycle of [spiritual] infancy," says Bob. In fact, 42 out of the 65 deaf churches in the United States do not have a full-time or part-time pastor, according to Bob.

It's a cycle Bob hopes to break.

"There aren't many other Christian ministries reaching the deaf community," says Sarah Gale, a Campus Crusade leader who oversees Bob and Karen's ministry. "They are true pioneers. They are courageously forging the way."

At present, Bob and Karen are the only staff members at Gallaudet and the only deaf missionaries within Campus Crusade. "I'm not enough," he says. "We need more staff members to reach out to others."

Along with campus responsibilities and parenting four children, Bob and Karen also help lead a deaf ministry at their church. He even fills in as a guest pastor at another church every third Sunday.

Admittedly, Bob is over-committed, though it's the very thing he wants to avoid. In his zeal to bring Jesus to the deaf, he has taken on too much. "This fall has been the busiest semester I have encountered," he says. "I have been able to endure but recognize that soon I'll need to fall back."

Last year, a part-time intern started helping out on campus. Bob also hopes to recruit others, including hearing people who know sign language.

Bob grew up in Lancaster, Pa., as the only member of his family who couldn't hear. Doctors discovered Bob was deaf when he was 18 months old. Up until age 16 he had speech therapy. He learned sign language when he was 9 years old.

Communication with his family was difficult because they didn't know sign language, since it was not yet popular in the '60s and '70s. Yet even today, roughly 90 percent of deaf people's parents don't know sign language, according to Elizabeth Parish, an advocate for the deaf and a graduate student at Gallaudet. Growing up, Bob recalls many a dinner-table conversation where he felt completely isolated, alone with his thoughts.

Off the Wall | Whether leading a weekly meeting that includes a skit by students or praying at the weekly meeting (above), Bob's days are filled with college life.

Church was no different. With no interpreter, nor any other deaf people to communicate with, Bob passed the agony by counting ceiling tiles or doodling on paper.

Bob's father made patient efforts to teach him about Jesus by speaking slowly to him. However, his father died from heart problems when Bob was only 8.

When Bob was 9, an evangelist came to his church. Though he couldn't make out what the man said, Bob remembered the things his father taught him about Jesus. Something stirred within him—something beyond words, beyond sound. When several people gathered at the altar to commit their lives to Christ, Bob joined them.

After high school, Bob decided to attend East Carolina University, which provided interpreters for the deaf students. While he was a freshman, a hearing friend invited him to a Campus Crusade meeting. Soon Bob was a regular. He even went on two summer mission trips: one to Daytona Beach, Fla., and another to Thailand. During his summer in Thailand, more than 20 students whom Bob met indicated decisions to receive Christ.

Experiences like that further confirmed what Bob had learned in high school. "I realized that my deafness is not who I am," says Bob. "I'm a creation of Christ." And experience proved God could use him.

After college, he began leading a deaf ministry at a church where he met and married Karen. They joined Campus Crusade in 1994 and started working at Gallaudet a year later, in 1995.

Bob and Karen have four children: Grace, 11, Robert Jr., 9, Noah, 7, and Seth, 3. Each is proficient in sign language and can also hear perfectly. "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," sings Robert Jr., while signing the word one letter at a time. Soon the other children join in. Most of them have already expressed faith in Jesus; Bob hopes they will follow in his footsteps.

At the C³ weekly meeting, Bob and three students lead the group in worship songs. Reminiscent of a hip-hop jam, the prerecorded heavy bass and drumbeat rattles a set of speakers: BUMP-chicka, BUMP-chicka. The students dance and maneuver their hands.

"Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me," they sign, sprinkling their hands downward like rain. Then they hold their hands wide, shaping an imaginary pot. "Melt me, mold me . . ."

The students have learned that worship, like football, isn't just for the hearing.

When the song ends, they lift their hands in the air and shake them wildly—a sign for applause. The room is silent.

You can contact the writer at Chris.Lawrence@ccci.org.