Rector’s Note: Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary.-4.9.26

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary pure and holy, tried and true

With thanksgiving I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.

That song was going through my head this afternoon as I tromped around the Edge Hill Wildlife Sanctuary, just down Pleasant Avenue from St. Peter’s. I’ve been visiting it of late as part of a commitment to take more walks in the middle of the day.

If you haven’t been, it’s a lovely little hike up a modest climb and back down – about 20 minutes in all if you stop occasionally to try to identify the birds that are singing and to check out the saplings that have been planted there. As sanctuaries go, it’s pretty tiny.  You can see houses in just about all directions. I found myself wondering if the animals in the area understood that this place had been set aside for their protection – a spot somewhat safe from cars and lawnmowers and weed killers. As I walked the paths, most of the animal sounds that I encountered were coming from outside its boundaries – a white breasted Nuthatch, a hawk, sparrows and finches and cardinals. At the top of rise, a red fox walked gingerly through the yard of the Edge Hill Castle there, not too concerned about the signs that said “Private Property” and “Beware of the Dog.” I imagined all the wildlife of Glenside hunkered down in this little strip of trees, claiming the protection the signs to the park suggested.

Still there were signs of sanctuary all around. Fallen trees and branches left to biodegrade provided habitat for multitudes. Tall clumps of bent grass seemed like lovely places for deer to hunker down. Trees with hollows at their bases reminded me of little shrines just waiting for a saint’s statue or the right creature to pose inside them. And it felt like a bit of sanctuary for me, an invitation to stop and open myself to all that I could hear and smell and see from that little woodland center in the middle of our neighborhood in the middle of my day. The sensations came flooding in as though they were just waiting for a receptor to listen and see and smell their existence and make a safe place for them.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary pure and holy, tried and true

With thanksgiving I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.

We sing that song at the interfaith prayer vigils held every Tuesday at 2 p.m. on the corner of George and Marshall Streets in Norristown. We stand outside the Barbershop there, right in the heart of the Latinx shopping area and we sing and pray for an end to war and violence and detention at the hands of ICE.  About 20 of us gather each week, clergy and lay people from local congregations, a neighbor or two -- preparing ourselves to be sanctuaries for God, for truth, for hope. We form a small circle in the middle of Norristown in the middle of our day, hoping that a bit of street prayer will bring a margin of safety to the place – if not sanctuary, then at least solidarity and witness. Occasionally a neighbor will share a story of a family members’ detention or an ICE raid. We network and update each other on trainings and actions and more opportunities to pray together. It takes about 20 minutes in all, longer if you linger to catch up with the people there and stop by a nearby store to support the local economy.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary pure and holy, tried and true

With thanksgiving I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.

As I return from my walk, I read the sign on the door leading into St. Peter’s Food Cupboard.  “This church is part of the Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania. We provide sanctuary for all.” It goes on to say that we welcome all people regardless of documentation status and we do not consent to any official conducting immigrant enforcement actions in our spaces.  With the Vestry’s permission, a subcommittee put up the signs on all the doors of the church and plant, a step in creating a more comprehensive practice around immigration response.

The first step is to remember that we are a sanctuary as church and as a Church – both a body and a location of safety for worship, for spiritual refreshment, for community and for care. Etymonline an online etymology dictionary suggests the word sanctuary originated with holy places set aside for holy uses. According to the article, employing Christian churches as protective spaces for fugitives or debtors goes back to the time of Constantine in the early fourth century, and was part of medieval practice. The New Sanctuary Movement in Philadelphia is dedicated to helping faith communities to be sanctuaries for immigrant justice and the protection of people.  The woman who lives down the street from me in Mt. Airy was first housed at Faith United Methodist Church in Germantown under Sanctuary status after she and her husband fled Guatemala. She is now a citizen, though these days she does not feel safe in her home on our street. As neighbors we try to offer her as much sanctuary as we can.

All of this has me wondering what is seeking sanctuary within me this Easter season, as the lyrics to that sweet tune catch up to me over and over again. If sanctuaries are places for the holy, then certainly the dignity of my immigrant neighbor resides there. The song of the birds and the wary look of the fox reside there. My own need for breaks and walks and rest resides there.

The sanctuaries that are all around us – within and without -- are not so small after all. They contain multitudes. In fact, they just might be the largest spaces I know.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary pure and holy, tried and true

With thanksgiving I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.