And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

It had been a busy, hectic time for the disciples of Jesus.

He had sent them out in pairs to do their work, to speak of his peace, to provide the hope that was lacking in so many lives, the sense that we are not just stumbling through an existence until we die, but that we are a part of a far larger story and plan than we will ever know in this life.

And now they were back with him, and with the news that John the Baptist had been executed by King Herod.

And in the background I hear John Fogerty singing, “I went down Virginia, seeking shelter from the storm.”

They had great successes and bitter sorrows in their work, just as we have had in our lives – separately and together.

And they turned, as we do, to Jesus for Sanctuary, shelter from the storm.

Sanctuary is one of those great old words that I love, those words that have fallen on hard times.

We use it, when we use it, primarily to describe this room and others like it. Places where men and women gather to encounter God. Holy places where we remind ourselves, with familiar ritual and with unexpected insights, that God is constantly shaping us, proding us, nudging us toward the distant pastures and the still waters.

And that’s a great understanding, this is a place where God’s spirit has touched us and healed us and renewed us.

And there are other places, other sanctuaries, other holy places, each of us can name them. They are the places where we go to speak with ourselves, to have the conversations, in God’s presence, that connect who we are in our core with who we are in our daily lives.

But Sanctuary is more than a place, more than geography, it is a sense, an awareness, a knowledge that we are safe.

That was what John Fogerty sang of:
Long as I remember the rain been coming down.
Clouds of myst'ry pouring confusion on the ground.
Good men through the ages, trying to find the sun;
And I wonder, still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain?

Shelter, Sanctuary, is what we seek, as the rains of the economy come pouring down.

Shelter, Sanctuary, is what we seek, as the rains of illness and sorrow come pouring down.

Shelter, Sanctuary is what we seek as the rains of loneliness, uncertainty and rejection come pouring down.

And it isn’t so much a place that we seek, it is a presence and a relationship that we find with God, that’s what gives us shelter, that’s what provides us with Sanctuary.

That is what Christ provided to the disciples, sanctuary, time together where they would – for a while – be safe.

And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

That’s what we find here, that’s what we provide here, that’s what brings us here.

Look, I know that you don’t worship because of the brilliance of the sermons. And Debby knows that it isn’t the music. And the Consistory knows that it isn’t a question of whether the walls are painted and the windows clean.

When you strip it all away, we worship because for an hour we are alone, together, with God.

Phones don’t ring in here . . .or they shouldn’t!

Kids don’t fight in here . . . usually.

We can’t do anything about our jobs, we aren’t paying bills, we don’t have to find the right way to handle aging parents or adult children, all of the things that nip and yap at us all week long aren’t here.

It’s just us and God.

We’re safe.

We’re sheltered.

We have sanctuary.

And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

I understand the beauty of that, to cast off the lines and find a safe harbor to sit in, Debi and I find that to be, as a poet puts it, “a magic kind of medicine, no doctor can prescribe”.

But there is a catch.

For when they return to shore the crowds they left behind are still there.

Our problems can go on hold for an hour each week, but they don’t disappear.

Houses still aren’t worth what’s owed on them.

Jobs are still not secure.

Retirements plans are faded dreams.

Tumors still grow.

Families still feud.

And that’s all waiting for us outside those doors.

And that is also part of the good news.

Now, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the disciples, probably Thomas or Peter, saw the crowd on the beach and suggested a 180 degree course correction!

But Jesus had the boat beached and he met the crowds with compassion.

That’s what God’s Sanctuary prepares us for, meeting the crowds who wait for us with compassion; bringing the experiences we have here into our fiscal struggles, into our workplace, into the doctors offices, into our homes.

Christ created Sanctuary for the disciples on the boat and then, with him, they were able to create Sanctuary for the crowds on the beach.

Which raise the question: Who are you creating Sanctuary for?

The YG did it for the homeless of Somerville this past week at SHIPS picnic grove.

The VBS leaders will be doing it for about 30 children this week at VBS.

You as a Church have done it for each family that has turned here for a funeral, for a wedding, for a baptism, for a confirmation, for a word from God.

We see the world differently when we spend our quiet time with God.

Problems are met with compassion because God’s Sanctuary is provided so that we might provide it for others.

We can’t just use it when we need it and be done with it, we need to use it and then be sure that it is available for the next person who needs it.

In Church lingo that is called evangelism. Not standing on a street corner and yelling about repentance, but hearing and experiencing the goods news of God’s love, then sharing it with those who need it.

One author has written that “Evangelism is one beggar telling another beggar where to get a meal.”

I like that, I’m that kind of Evangelist.

I’ve been sheltered, given Sanctuary, by family, friends, strangers and you.

So I try to shelter others, with words and affection, as the rains come pouring down.

And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

But there is more to the shelter and the Sanctuary then just that which we get and that which we give.

There is the knowledge that Jeremiah had, the knowledge that David provided in the 23rd Psalm, the knowledge that we aren’t built for safe harbors and for quiet beaches, we need them from time to time, but we are built for the journey of life, the gradual shuffling movement out of the darkness, through the sorrows and on the higher pastures, the still waters, the house of God.

And throughout the journey, the Shepherd God is watching us and protecting us, sheltering us and giving us sanctuary on a continual basis.

One of the great truths about sheep flocks on a journey is that they are rarely even aware of the Shepherd’s presence and protection.

He keeps them moving, he keeps turning them back into each other and forward, because if they were to stay still they would graze the meadow they were in, until it was no more.

He chases away wolves and bears that they never even see.

He brings Sanctuary to them each day and each night, blessing them more than they realize.

Doesn’t that sound familiar?

Doesn’t God continue to keep us moving, shuffling along, unaware of his plan and direction, even unaware of the ways he works around the edges to keep us together?

Doesn’t God keep us from grazing a good pasture to death? That’s been the difference-maker for us as a congregation, we have been willing, anxious to try new and different ways to experience God’s presence with us, some have worked, some have failed and all have been worth the effort. I heard a week or so ago about someone who doesn’t come to Church because “it’s not the way it used to be”, to which I thought “thank God it isn’t”, or if you would like, “Blame God that it isn’t”.

And we’ll never know the problems and dangers that we’ve never seen because God has kept us safe.

Sanctuary in the Old Testament was tied to geography.

But in the New Testament it was expanded beyond geography, Sanctuary became the relationship that we have with God through Christ.

That means, of course, that when our time here is through we enter into that perfect Sanctuary where we are safe and sheltered from every storm and every sorrow.

But more importantly it means that here and now we can experience that safety and that shelter, that Sanctuary in the midst of the storms and sorrows when we spend time with God.

The last month has seen our members flying to Ireland, England, France, Switzerland, and cruising to the Caribbean and Alaska and Debi and I spent a day and evening in Camden, NJ.

And I know that many of you have plans yet to be carried out this summer, this is good, this is sacred time that you spend, it is what Brad Paisley calls: “Time well wasted”, it is Sanctuary that you are experiencing so that when the boat ride is over and you’re back on the beach with all of your problems you will be able to face them with compassion, knowing that Christ is with you.

And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

Clover Hill Reformed Church 1834-2009 A 175 Day Scriptural Companion Dear Friends, As we progress through our Anniversary Year, I invite you to join together in a shared reading of scripture. I have selected 175 passages, from Genesis through Revelation, that have had special meaning in our Congregational life. Go Here