Claiming Sanctuary

Sanctuary is a very ancient pilgrimage tradition in the British Isles. Pilgrims have long taken shelter in and around holy places.

The tradition of welcoming strangers is hard-coded into many faiths. This is especially true of Christianity, a fact which which makes the widespread network of UK churches an exciting resource for pilgrims seeking shelter (regardless of spiritual orientation).

In the Middle Ages, the tradition of Sanctuary was written into Law, and went far beyond the provision of shelter, allowing criminals to evade capture and mob justice. Many a tale is told of desperate criminals who beat the Law by reaching the safety of a Church.

This legal protection has long disappeared, but it still remains possible to sleep in and around Britain’s churches. The Church in England, Scotland and Wales is ‘Established’, making it is part of the structure of HM Government, meaning the Church is technically ‘ours’. It belongs to you and I.

So we should feel a basic right to claim respectful Sanctuary in and around churches. When I created the British Pilgrimage Trust, this was one of my main ideas and hopes for the project. So many churches sit empty, unloved, and vulnerable to theft. Allowing a pilgrim to sleep in/around an empty church can reduce this security risk. Along the Old Way route I arranged for 10+ churches to allow pilgrim shelter.

To sleep inside a Medieval church is a wonderful treat. The silence - the sense of protection - the smell. These are places that have been cherished for a thousand years, where our ancestors rest in peace. We too might claim such rest, for a night.

Many churches are locked at night. But not always. If you’re not sure, try the door.

In general, to sleep inside a church you should telephone or email ahead to ask the vicar or churchwarden for permission. You can find contact details on the Find A Church website, or the A Church Near You website. When you call, be clear that you have all sleeping kit required, and you don’t need anything more than permission to be there. Be sure to tell them you are a pilgrim. This is the password that makes it easier for a church to consider your stay as ‘ancilliary worship’ - vital for insurance purposes - rather than their needing to wrap their heads around repurposing their building as a secular campsite. Insurance companies exert a lot of sway over churches, so help the church to play the game. Also be sure to remind them that you will act as security all night to keep the roof lead safe.

However, asking permission can be a shortcut for nervous folk to simply say no. Churches without a tap and loo often refuse Sanctuary, for understandable reasons. Or churches with priceless art, or intolerant neighbours, might take the safe course and refuse permission.

So pilgrims can bypass these mechanisms and simply claim Sanctuary without asking first. Just find a corner of the church/yard/porch and lay low. Arrive late, rise early, and leave no trace. This prevents worrying people with requests for permission. Of course, don’t do this if you already asked and they said no! The disadvantage of not asking is that this doesn’t build up the momentum of people asking, which may eventually be met.

With or without human permission, if you are going to claim sanctuary it is crucial to ask the place itself - and to take seriously the response you get. Before you settle, slowly circumambulate the building or space (walk around it, usually clockwise) to let it know you’re there. Then sit a while in silence, and try to feel with your body where you are. Listen to the sounds around you, especially birdsong. In many spiritual traditions birds are seen as messengers of divinity. Try to interpret the feeling of their songs as offering welcome/unwelcome. Your sensitivity to such distinctions will soon increase.

In my experience, most places are pleased to be asked, and welcome a sleeping human as much as they would any other animal. But not everywhere. You’ll soon learn to feel that tingle of unwelcome, and more fool you should you persist regardless...

The same goes for choosing exactly where to sleep. In a church, you may wish to avoid sleeping directly on top of a tomb. However, the whole church is basically one large ancient tomb, filled with thousands of years of local ancestors. That is partly why they are such good places to sleep - you encounter the lineage of local people in a very deep way. What dreams may come, as you rest in peace! I am convinced that such sleep benefits your meetings in person with living locals the next day, for you’ve already made friends with their great-great-grandparents.

One of the safest places to sleep in a churchyard, energetically, is beside the East Wall. This is nearest to the altar, and I like to imagine a church like a bar magnet, and the pattern of iron-filings as the safe spots around it. But that’s just me. Feel your own way.

If you can sleep inside, churches almost always have plugs for the hoovers. So be sure to recharge your devices and external batteries. There is usually a tap to be found in the churchyard somewhere too. In terms of using the loo, it’s best to leave the premises and find somewhere off-site. If there’s one thing that might cause emotional upset, it’s people using the churchyard as a toilet. If you have to go, look for the compost heap where your deposit will be beneficial.

Churches usually have a porch. Sometimes these are locked shut, but often they remain open, and many have no doors at all. You can pre-plan this by searching online for images of the church. Church porches make excellent stone hotels. Beware light sensors that come on when you move. A hiking sock can usually fit over the sensor to ensure undisturbed sleep. If you are challenged by an early-rising parishioner, be sure to respond with gentle righteousness. Remember, the password is ‘Pilgrim’. And whatever your spiritual outlook, adopting a vaguely Christian persona can be helpful. Offering a ‘God Bless You’ never goes astray.

Two Bible verses offer the appropriate kung-fu for claiming Sanctuary. It may be worth learning them. The first is generic but strong: “Come, you that are are weary and heavily burdened, and take rest in me” (Matt 11:28). The second seems designed for porch sleeping: “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” (Psalms 8:10). (This would be an excellent name for a campsite: The Tents of the Wicked).

Sleep neatly, without spreading too much untidiness about, so if someone arrives before you wake, it won’t look like you have moved in. Set an alarm to rise before visitors. Pack up swiftly, and clear away all marks of your presence. Leave the place better than you found it. Try to sign the guestbook, and offer a song of thanks. Prayer is often seen as the preserve of religion, but asking the Universe to bless a place is not aligned to a particular faith, any more than making a wish when you blow out a birthday candle. So wish places well, and leave them echoing with your good intentions.

You may also wish to make a donation to the church before leaving. I like to leave coins in the shape of the Pisces fish. An individual church is not funded by the organised Church, but the other way around. Each tiny church must pay many thousands of pounds to be part of the organisation. They must also fund their own repairs. So chip in and help out. Many of our little churches are only just hanging on…

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Non-Church Sanctuary

It is not only at churches that Wayfarers can claim Sanctuary. Any holy place, whether an ancient tree or holy well, a stone circle or ruined chapel, might offer a night of basic Sanctuary.

With all holy sites, whether church or prehistoric, be incredibly careful not to cause any damage. This is why I prefer a bivy & tarp over a tent, as a bivy allows low-profile dry sleep without needing pegs in the ground. If a place is of archaeological significance, it’s best not to poke the ground with 6” metal spikes.

Also, feel your way carefully when choosing your actual sleep-spot. The wrong choice can be a harrowing experience! For example, don’t sleep in the end chamber of a long barrow. This is (imo) the initiation space, and will not offer restful slumber. Take a side-chamber instead, where you’ll more likely rest well.

Practice the same precautions for non-churches as for churches. Circumambulate. Offer a gift - song or silence - and feel your way carefully. Rise early, keep neat, and leave the place better than you found it.

Rest well, pilgrims!