The church as sanctuary

Last week, as the United Methodist Church gathered in Tampa for General Conference, I seldom found our meeting place, our worship or our conduct with one another as a place of sanctuary. Entering into the space where our plenary sessions were held each morning last week, I felt not a sense of calm, but an engulfing tension. In encountering individuals with whom I had differing beliefs, I found no refuge, only vulnerability and pain. The communal ‘church’ that I encountered in Tampa created neither a holy nor sacred place, and failed to be a place of asylum or refuge for those feeling outcast from the denomination. For me, the convention center halls were no sanctuary.

In venting my frustration concerning the ‘church’ and this lack of peace, this lack of inclusion, and the absence of welcome and safety present at the General Conference, a friend reminded me that ‘church’ encompasses, yes, the institutional rulings, agencies and workings, but also extends far beyond the reach of the convention center halls of Tampa, Florida. Oftentimes ‘church’ is found instead in the smallest corners, initiatives, and extensions of love.

Throughout General Conference, the Love Your Neighbor Coalition’s ‘Tabernacle’ tent across the street from the convention center provided such sanctuary and exemplified the possibilities of ‘church.’ There, all were welcome. The homeless, the bishops, the local volunteers, the international delegates. There, one could cry without judgment, receive a hug simply by asking, and always find something to nibble on. If this is not such an example of ‘church’ that my friend encouraged me to seek out, then I am not certain what is.

Since returning to Berlin, I have given much thought to what ‘church’ means for me. Yes, I work in a church building. Yet I do not always personally find sanctuary there. However, as my first day back at work reminded me, ‘church’ can remain a ‘sanctuary’ even if the institutional church fails to provide such security and peace.  

I spent my first afternoon back at work outside on the playground, playing board games for a bit, later passing a soccer ball around with a small group of kids until it became clear that some of the youth were planning to fight one another on the soccer field. After lengthy preparation and plenty of talk about being manly, strong and invincible, two youth began fighting one another. Before I could work to stop the fight, one of the youth was already on the run, attempting to get away from the group of boys following him. Living pretty far away, he wouldn’t have made it home. So, where did he go? Straight into the church where I work. As soon as he headed for the church, I ran after him. He knew, just as I did, that once he was in the church he was safe. We would not only ensure that he was uninjured, but that, regardless of who was at fault, he made it home safely past the groups waiting outside to continue the fight. That we would tattle neither to his parents nor to his friends. There would be few to no questions asked.

He had found sanctuary. In the church.

The ‘church’ has a history of providing sanctuary to those in need. In the modern sanctuary movement, asylum seekers and refugees have often sought the church as a safe haven. The Heilig-Kreuz congregation in Berlin supported three Palestinian families from Lebanon in seeking asylum in Germany in 1983 and from this precedent, churches in Berlin have organized to offer “Asylum in the Church” (Asyl in der Kirche, e.V.) and amongst German Christians, the concept of church as a ‘sanctuary’ is self-explanatory. In the United States, a parallel sanctuary movement providing safe haven for Central American refugees fleeing civil conflict emerged in the 1980s. In 1985, my home church congregation, Dumbarton UMC, sheltered an undocumented Salvadoran immigrant.

The basis for the ‘church’ as sanctuary exists. Not only from our traditions as a ‘church,’ but also through our reason and our scriptural basis. This ‘church,’ this sanctuary, need not only be a physical place, but can be a person, a group, an activity or event, or simply a way of living. Sometimes it is hard to see an institution as sanctuary. But, luckily, ‘church’ encompasses more than the building, than the rules, than the doctrine, than the agencies, than the politics.

‘Church.’  When fulfilling its purpose, ‘church’ reaches beyond these details and remains simply the safe haven, the sanctuary to which or to whom one can always run. Whether running from the politics and doctrine, from the kids on the playground trying to beat you up, or to a place of inclusion and welcome, the ‘church’ must remain a strong foundation. A safe space. A sacred place. A refuge.

A sanctuary.