Talking with my wife about church buildings and sanctuaries and the lost appreciation for sacred places, I mentioned to her a childhood memory I have of a film I saw on the old "CBS Children's Film Festival" probably around 1967 or so. It was the story about the relationship between a Roman Catholic boy and a Jewish girl about 8 or 9 years old. They go on an make-believe safari ride on a little rubber raft in a river when their adventure turns to disaster.
The film opens with the boy rushing to the church to tell his priest that he has killed his friend Rachel. The story is told as a flashback beginning with how he met her and the struggle they had understanding each other's faith.
The film was 1960's "Hand in Hand" and as an adult I realize it's a story of religious tolerance that was very much ahead of its time.
As a child, I was mesmerized by its simple story of innocence and coming of age. But what has stayed with me all these 40 or so years is that image in mind of the Catholic church and the priest, of a place to run to, somewhere to go to be consoled, to be comforted, to be forgiven.
I remember a time when I was in college, struggling with some now forgotten trauma, and walking at nighttime in the sleepy little town where I went to school. I remember wishing I were Catholic, wondering where the nearest cathedral might be and settling for the dark steps of a Methodist church to sit and pray and be.
Today with our contemporary worship services and emphasis on multimedia entertainment and coffee-bar social setting, I worry that we've forgotten the need for sacred spaces. If someone searching for that sense of sacredness doesn't find it at the church, where will they go?
A week ago I was at a point where I simply had to get away from it all, away from work, away from the phone, away from emails, demands, complaints, desires, away from family even, away from people needing something from me, taking from me, wanting more, never feeling that what I was giving was good enough or was enough. So I left. Told my assistant I needed to run an errand and left. Drove to Shelby Farms, the largest urban park in the country, perhaps the world. And just walked. In the cold. In the wind. In the middle of the day.
It wasn't exactly a sacred space, but it came close. I was alone, except for the occasional runner or bicyclist passing. I was surrounded by God's handiwork --- birds, squirrels and a hawk or two. And I felt God's presence. The wind, the air, the rustling of the leaves. It was my adventure. And God and I were walking hand in hand.
4 comments:
Jay, I'm so glad to see you are writing! I haven't been here in quite a while (and have stopped spending as much time in general on blogs), but I will come back.
Nature has always been my main sacred space....I grew up running to the woods to get away....I'm glad you had this encounter with the park and with God.
But I do miss the cathedrals of Italy! (Except when they are so full of tourists they feel more like a museum than a church...)
God bless you, friend.
Hi, Sheila! Thanks for dropping by. And for your comment. I'll try to be more regular in my posting -- but no promises. Sometimes life just gets in the way!
A song ran through my head the rest of the afternoon after I first read this. I just can't remember all the words anymore...."My God and I walk through the fields together, we walk and talk as good friends should and do, we clasp our hands, our voices ring with laughter....He tells me of the years that went before me, when heavenly plans were made for me to be, when all was but a dream of dim conception, my God and I.....will go unendingly"
I remember that movie. It was introduced by Kukla, Fran and Ollie where I grew up. I remember them visiting each other's churches even though they believed they were risking death. But she didn't really die, did she?
And now to the present ... I am grateful for my 3-year tour of duty as a religion reporter, partly because of the Catholics and Episcopalians and others who let me into their sacred spaces, some architectural, some made of mind and heart.
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