Sanctuary

Washington UCC, Cincinnati

The stories are different, but tragically following a similar narrative. Young children who have experienced more tragedy in their young lives than most of us would have to face in a lifetime. Each child trying to survive in an environment that hardly nurtures an existence, yet alone, learning the tools, skills, and resources that will be needed to survive in an increasingly hostile nation toward the poor, oppressed, ignorant, and those struggling with the demons of mental health.  Where can one find sanctuary in the midst of life’s struggles to survive?

We were working on a puzzle together; a couple of other friends nearby were playing Connect Four. As Ryan and I were struggling piece by piece with the puzzle, quietly planning our strategy for the next step in solving our puzzle problem, there was an outburst from our friend at the other end of the table, “Aw! Not fair!” and from my side of the table in the midst of puzzle solving, heard Ryan say, “Life isn’t fair!”  Shocked and curious, I asked, “I’ve heard that before, Ryan, who told you that life isn’t fair?” Without missing a beat, the 11 year old said with a voice of quiet certitude, “No one” he said, “I’ve learned it the hard way.” Where can one find sanctuary in the midst of life’s struggles to survive?

Noah is 12 years old and lives a life more tragic than anyone his age should even experience in an R-rated movie.  The highpoints of his life seem to revolve around issues of abandonment, violence, and one adult disappointment after another. His young body wound tighter than a rubber-band, always seeming to live in a mode of survival and distrust, coping the best he can, the only emotion modeled in his life is that of anger and hostility. How many times has he stood between his mother and her abuser? Who knows? He says many, many. Why would he have any respect for the adults in his life? Instead of thinking about dreams for tomorrow, he’s busy surviving in a world he didn’t choose or deserve. Where can one find sanctuary in the midst of such conflict and hopelessness?

Her name is Anastasia. As I swim and talk with her, she asks about the Chlorine in the water. I explain to her the importance of Chlorine in a swimming pool and also what Chlorine can do to our swimming suits as we continue to swim, explaining that between the Chlorine and the sunshine, over time our swimming suits could fade. She sat quietly for a while and then she said, “Maybe if I swim a lot my skin will fade and I can be white.” I didn’t know what to say. I had heard this before, but they were only stories told to me a second or third time around. I was stunned. I said to Anastasia, you know, ebony and the color black are among my favorite colors. I think black is beautiful and you are beautiful too. How can one find sanctuary in the midst of life’s struggle to be accepted no matter how God made us?

There is a popular song that has been circulating around youth ministry and youth circles for several years. The title of the song is “Sanctuary” and the lyrics to the refrain are as follows:

 Lord prepare me 

to be a sanctuary

pure and holy, tried and true

with thanksgiving, I'll be a living

sanctuary for you.

The words and the theology, more theologically conservative than my own, do cause me to pause and ask about the meaning of a living sanctuary. Historically, socially, and theologically sanctuary was considered a place of refuge, a safe place for one who is fleeing for his or her life or finding themselves in a place where they are a stranger, an alien in a foreign land. This is the intent behind why we call our holy gathering place, a sanctuary. It is a place of protection, a place of refuge for the spiritual pilgrim on a journey of grace and wholeness. Although the lyrics and the song seem to imply an invitation that God, the One who redeems us and saves us, can find a “living sanctuary” in us. I think this is too simple, too idealistic and even for the most affluent and faithful, pretty irrelevant, until we can see the meaning of a “living sanctuary” as not a place for God – for God does not need to be safe from a cycle of poverty and pain, a place of hatred and injustice, or a place where a child must choose between dreams and survival. We need to look at this song as more than pious words of thoughtful thanksgiving for the One who created us and see ourselves as a “living sanctuary” for one another. Can we be a living sanctuary for Ryan, Noah, Anastasia, or others who barely exist in a world they did not choose or want? Could a “living sanctuary” be an invitation to open our hearts and our lives to be a healing presence in an unsanitary and perplexing world where there are no good choices? Maybe for a time, fourteen of us chose to be a “living sanctuary” for the children and families of this community. Maybe we were the hands and feet, the eyes and ears to build up the Body of Christ, just maybe.