Sanctuary

"in the cathedrals of New York and Rome, there is a feeling you should just go home, and spend a lifetime, figuring out just where that is..."

-Jump Little Children

I was sitting in church this morning during the late service and since I had already heard the sermon at the first service, I'll admit that my mind started to wander when hearing it for the second time.

I admired the way the light reflected in through the stained glass windows and sparkled beautifully on our pristine white walls. I admired the deep color of the pews and the way our church homey and inviting. I'll admit, I was having a "our sanctuary is just so beautiful" moment in my head.

And I started to think about what a sanctuary was really. Sanctuary. That word. Hmm..... Sanctuaries are supposed to be places of security. A haven. A place of absolute safety and absent of things to fear. Whenever I think of sanctuaries I am taken back to that scene in the "Hunchback of Notre Dame" when the gypsy Esmeralda was running from the soldiers (because being a gypsy was against the law back then) and she runs up to the Cathedral Notre Dame and bangs on the door and cries for "Sanctuary!"

Crying for sanctuary back then meant that the church would protect you. That the soldiers or anyone else couldn't pursue you into the church. That it served as a haven. A place where you didn't have to fear being hunted or attacked.

And I'm assuming this ties in with our idea of holding worship in sanctuaries today. That they be places of security. Of safety. A place where we can be authentic and have no fear of attack. But maybe church isn't that safe and secure place for you? Maybe a physical church "sanctuary" doesn't offer you much comfort or ease your anxiety at all.

Often (of course this is exacerbated because its my place of employment) I leave church with knots in my stomach. Or I'm anxious about people I might have made mad with leadership decisions I"ve had to make that day. I sit in my so called sanctuary and often I worry, fret, and just wait for the next attack. It often doesn't seem like much of a sanctuary.

However, there is this lovely bike trail I ride everyday. It goes along the river and is shaded by trees and has birds. Its simply wonderful. I always feel safe, secure, and peaceful as I ride down this trail. It feels like a sanctuary to me. Much more than my church's building does.

So I wonder, maybe sanctuary doesn't necessarily have to be a place of religious worship. Maybe sanctuaries come in all different shapes and sizes. Maybe they can be bike trails. Or coffee shops. Or emails. Or a friend's house. Or a mother's embrace. Maybe sanctuary can be found in all sorts of people, places, and things.

And maybe we aren't finding it, because we are looking for our preconceived notions of what it should be. Instead of the forms it actually appears in.

Where is your sanctuary? Would you even recognize it if you found it?