New Space, New Place
Place matters.
Not space, but PLACE.
Space has to do with footprint. The more space we have, the larger the footprint we leave. We Americans love our space. The bigger the better.
Bigger means we can fill it with more stuff.
This size of footprint exposes our love of wealth and privilege. We want an acre of lawn and a manicured garden, a sprawling home, a tennis court or swimming pool, a huge deck and private backyard. We fantasize owning such spaces, not recognizing how costly they are, how entangled our life can become, how isolated and lonely we can feel. We have to work hard and spend lots of money just to keep it all up.
Place is different. The footprint might be smaller; but the connections run deeper. Place has to do with history, rootedness, and belonging. Place is the neighborhood we walk every night, the friends next door and across the street we chat with, the coffee shops we haunt, the parks we stroll through, the grocery stores we frequent several times a week, the local schools and organizations we care about and invest in.
Space isolates; place connects. Space separates; place welcomes. Space embodies ownership, freedom, and independence; place demands commitment and loyalty. We fill space; we share place.
Why this particular theme after so many months of silence? The two photos tell it all. There is a reason I have not written a word for the entire summer.
Patricia and I moved. It just about did us in. After 32 years on the northside of Spokane, living very near Whitworth, we moved to the south hill. We moved because our kids (all except one, who lives in Seattle) live on the south hill. We wanted to be close to them, and to the grandchildren.
The process was demanding, the outcome wonderful. We live in a different space now. It will take time to convert it to place, too.
Spokane is a city that feels very much like a small town. Our social and professional root system extends throughout the city. Patricia still works on the northside, and I still commute to Whitworth a day or two a week in my capacity as a Senior Fellow in the Office of Church Engagement. We have friends scattered throughout the city. Our space has changed; but our place remains largely the same. Spokane is very much our city.
Our new space that will become a place to us. It will take time. We will sink our roots and make it home. We will befriend new neighbors and play with grandchildren in local parks. We will walk the neighborhood and chat with the folks we meet, just as we did on the northside. We will meet people at local coffee shops. We will dine at new restaurants. We will visit downtown more often, too, which is only eight minutes away.
Place matters to God, too. The Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, chose to enter our world, not as an idea or abstraction but as a real person. He left a small footprint during this earthly life, unlike famous contempories, such as Caesar Augustus. He was born a Jew and grew up in a small town, Nazareth. He worked a trade. He belonged to a people. He often referred to the local economy and ordinary trades in his teaching. He observed local customs. He died as a common criminal on a hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem. He was buried in a borrowed grave. No monuments or honors or inscriptions proclaimed his greatness, at least not during his lifetime. Jesus was a local guy.
Augustus filled space. Jesus lived in a place.
We said our goodbyes to the Nelson Rd house. We are saying hello to our Manito Blvd home. We exchanged a classic rancher for what we call a “city cottage.” We are living the same story, only in a new setting. It is a new space. Over time it will become a place, too—a sacred place.
