He would withdraw into the wilds for prayer.
Luke 5:16
Seeker,
How can we be sanctuary when life is under threat?
In an age considered Dark,
in a world lit by fire,
fugitives could find refuge beneath a temple spire.
Claiming protection,
begging intercessions rare,
“Sanctuary!” threatened voices might declare.
But where now to turn,
whose mercy to seek,
to safeguard a planet, to shield the weak,
when on that very altar
this living earth entire
wantonly is sacrificed to idols of desire?
As a person who aspires to live nonviolently —
Parker Palmer
knowing I will forever fall short —
I know I need sanctuary
if I want to loosen the grip
of our culture’s violence on me.
Decades ago,
at the end of my Amazonian sojourn,
I was urged to return to my “far away home”
by forest people
who introduced me to their leafy land,
renamed and reclaimed me.
Sent back to my ancestral shores
with heart rinsed clear,
I was inspired by an indigenous vision
of how we too might
listen and learn to fall in love again
with the sanctus sanctorum of the wilds.
Gifts of mind, hands, heart, voice, and vision
Robin Wall Kimmerer
all offered up on behalf of the earth.
Whatever our gift, we are called to give it
And to dance for the renewal of the world.
In return for the privilege of breath.
What if cosmic wilderness itself
were one vast temple,
and jewel bright earth an exquisite sanctuary?
Imagine how such epiphanies might
reshape roles and responsibilities,
reframe cultures, reclaim rites and liturgies?
For the wild wisdom of love universal
teaches that whatsoever we do unto any
we surely do unto Thee, Source of all this is.
The moment we realize that we are all related, this planet becomes our home.
Satish Kumar
The birds flying in the sky are our kith and kin.
The deer and the rabbits in the forest are our brothers and sisters;
even tigers and elephants, snakes and earthworms are members of one Earth family.
The moment we have that sense of gratitude, we have a sense of reverential ecology.
May you heed the ceaseless choirs
that soak summer air with songs of praise
under an indigo sky.
May you join the chorus
clamoring for life, calling out for shelter,
a sacred haven in the heavens.
And may you offer
some form of sanctuary
to weary souls hungry for home.
In the end,
Joe Grant, Scratchings
wildness waits us out
returning to reclaim ruination
and reweave with dripping vine
a softer sanctuary
that leads every kind of soul
to rest and restoration sublime.
joe
Scratchings by Joe Grant provides a fascinating journey showing the extraordinary wisdom and beauty found in the most ordinary of events. While appreciating events such as the beauty of a leaf falling and the often-unnoticed activities in the backyard of his inner city neighborhood, the journey also takes us far and wide from his childhood in Scotland, to his mission experience in the Amazon rainforest, and even to the site of genocidal massacre in Rwanda. Each episode draws the reader in with exquisite language and creates a picture that engages the imagination. The word play, rhyming, cadence and alliteration are delightful and evocative.
In a powerful section of his book called Epiphany, Joe reflects on the in-breaking moments of graced awareness:
To the awakened,
every sunrise is a first
brilliant blush of brand-new creation
each frigid breath suspended,
a sacramental exhalation
in conspiration of
spirit holy.
He goes on to write, “sometimes a singular ray pierces perception to jolt us into wakefulness with a radiant revelation that all ground is hallowed.”
This beautiful book is for me a meditation on our amazing yet troubled world. Joe’s book helps me to see the sacred mysteries which are all around us.
- The Rev. Karl Ruttan, Ph.D., Episcopal priest and spiritual director
In the Storm Still 