DAYS 114 & 115 - Champaign-Urbana, IL - 2184 miles from home
- Esther Lisa Tishman
- 35 minutes ago
- 4 min read
I've been wondering, lately, about HOME. About what transforms a place - a community - a building - into a home. But this weekend I found myself pondering a different question: what makes a place - a community - et cetera - a sanctuary.
The word "sanctuary" has acquired a heavy political connotation these days, given our national tension and contention regarding immigration.... But in my usual spiritual nerd fashion, I want to be more etymological here. I'm thinking about the Latin word sanctus, "holy" - from the verb sancire: "to consecrate." Sanctuaries are holy places - places that have been set aside, dedicated, for the deep work of the soul, for the work of the heart. Historically, given their sacred function, sanctuaries are places that have welcomed the stranger, the traveler, the ill, the fugitive.
Sanctuaries are places that welcome the pilgrim in all of us. Where the pilgrim in all of us can breathe freely, can find and take true rest.
This weekend in Champaign-Urbana I encountered sanctuaries of so many different kinds - including the literal church variety at Faith United Methodist, where Pastors Justin and Miriam gave a beautiful joint sermon on the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. The pastors called us to orient ourselves within a world of moral and spiritual complexity: a world where we acknowledge both our own accountability - what is our own work to do - as well as what lies beyond our work: what belongs to the Universe in its ceaselessly flowing love and grace.
And of course, Faith United Methodist is a refuge in its entirety: a balm for the weary sojourner, from fellowship over coffee, to Trunk or Treat for the kiddos, to hot chili and cold lemonade.
College campuses are also deep refuge for me - perhaps for you as well. Crackling with ideas, with beautiful public spaces, with youthful energy. On Sunday I had coffee with Kimberly Michelle Rios, a U of Illinois social psychologist working on (among other things) the question of religious identity. Kim's most recent article is fascinating, taking up the topic of religious diversity.
Ah. Religion. Dear friends, how do you identify when it comes to the "R" word? Liberty Walks is nonsectarian, as well as nonpartisan - yet this encounter with America has been decisively shaped by the faith communities and spiritual families that have hosted us. In America, our religious affiliations - or our lack thereof - seem to be fundamental aspects of our identity. Our diversity as a nation includes our diverse forms of worship, of spiritual practice, of philosophical stance. As an interfaith chaplain, I strive to be living proof that we can connect across these differences, but that's not always an easy sell.
Yet, walking helps connect the dots. And maybe walking is its own movable sanctuary. Over the past few weeks, having the opportunity to walk with community members in Iowa and Illinois has confirmed my faith in the side-by-side life. We don't have to come to the same ultimate conclusions - or even start in the same places. We can just step alongside each other for a time. We can face into the same horizon together, for a moment or two.
Walking through the enormous University of Illinois campus on Saturday, I found myself strolling behind two Illini marching band members, and then passing lines of high school marching bands, all waiting to perform and compete in the Illinois Marching Band Championship. Then: weaving through campus to downtown Urbana, walking through the crowd at PrideFest, finding yet another version of sacred refuge: one filled with the most hole-y of all things: soap bubbles, in all their prismatic wonder.
And then there's the sanctuary that is another human life joined with one's own. The refuge of family. My husband, Ezra, has been with us for these past few days. Ezra and I walked together this weekend, sharing the same horizon as we've done now for 24 years.
