Bret Marfut topic of choice 3

I believe that sacred place, in some situations, can be related to time. The most compelling example of this that I can think of is related to weather. Very little displays the power of nature as well as a thunderstorm, at least to me. Every summer for about eight years leading up to freshman year in college, I went to a Boy Scout camp for one week out of every summer. Inevitably, on at least one night during the week, our campsite would be hit by a huge thunderstorm, and we would be forced to retreat to our tents. The tents at this camp were A-frame, set on wooden platforms, and covered with the standard green canvas of military-style tents. These tents were some of my least favorite things about the camp: During the fall, winter, and spring, when the camp was empty, these tents provided a habitat to an alarming amount of insects, including barn spiders that were about the size of my fist. For this reason, I tried to avoid my tent for as much time as I could during the week. However, whenever a storm hit and the faded green tarp of the tent became my only protection from the torrential rain, thunder, and lightning, the small, musty smelling space became something of a sacred area to me. It was not just the fact that it kept me dry: There was something spiritual about the quiet of the inside of the tent holding at bay the roar of the rain pounding against the tent’s side. From my personal experience, I would say that at least some places rely on external circumstances to provide sacred encounters.