Sanctuary

Sanctuary

      Psalm 25. 1-5

 

“Come into my sanctuary” said the old man to the little boy.

‘What’s a sanctuary?” replied the young lad.

        “Ah, laddy, ‘tis my one true room without frill or toy.”

             “Doesn’t sound like a fun place! Is it a joy or only sad?”

“I can see you’re a person of substance, e’en though young!”

           “Guess so. If you pinch me I holler, got thoughts of my own.”

         “My sanctuary‘s a special place where truth’s praises be sung.”

            “Is it boring? Does it require me to be still? Turn off my phone?”

“Come see the fine door, note the light shining through.”

          “Looks like a safe place. Can I look inside, maybe explore?”

           “When you enter the sanctuary remember to be true.”

          “Okay, I’ll be myself. I’ll be no less but no more.”

Looking ‘round the room, they found it simple, spare.

                  Shutting the door set a barrier, no outside sounds heard.

                   Solitude filled the space with a tangible fullness most rare.

                      Uncrowded, inviting, this special place, aside from the human herd.

“Do you hear the riffling water?” commented the older host.

                 “Seems to be coming from the altar. Is the candle always lit?”

                    “Gentle sounds help calm us, eternal light can comfort most.”

                       “This sanctuary’s not too big or small, seems to be the right fit.”

“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to show you this.

                      Each person has a holy place created inside.”

                  "You mean I have my own special place of bliss?”

                        “Such a word for a young man to use, in you wisdom does reside!”

   “What do you do here?” asked the young man smiling fair.

               “I come here every day to begin, to rest, to reflect.”

                    “It doesn’t seem hard to find, the design nothing rare.”

                     “Create your own; it will look like yours, no detail neglect.”

       They stood, they sat, and they even sang a hymn.

                   Time passed quickly, their friendship found a home.

                    This special location invited sharing deeply ‘twas not a whim.

                       Creator invites each person to find this resource as they roam.

          Inside the door of each sanctuary, a mask rack stands.

                  Upon entry the person divests the mask of the day.

                          True communion with self, Spirit, Word, Creator expands.

                         A personal chapel, available any time along life’s way.

The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.

14.9.12