The Need for Refugia in Our Times

Debra Rienstra, a writer and theologian, takes the scientific term refugia—places where life survives in times of extreme crisis, like tiny pockets of life that persist through volcanic eruption or climate stress—and turns it into a powerful spiritual metaphor. Biologically, refugia are sheltered habitats where biodiversity retreats, survives, and can potentially expand once conditions improve. From these “hidden pockets,” new life springs forth and the world begins to heal.

Rienstra’s book Refugia Faith applies this ecological concept to human culture, spiritual life, and faith practice, inviting us to consider how communities and individuals can become places of refuge and renewal in times of societal and environmental crisis. These refugia are not escapes, but small spaces of resilience where hope, healing, and connection can take root.

There is no denying that for many of us we feel we live in a time of deep disruption—socially, politically, environmentally, and spiritually. Many people feel rushed, overwhelmed, or disillusioned with institutions (including religious ones) that seem unable to grapple meaningfully with the complexity of our world. In such a landscape, Rienstra’s metaphor of refugia invites us to see where life still clings and grows—even when everything else seems in crisis.

Refugia remind us of three things:

1. Life persists in tiny, hidden places.
Just as a volcanic blast leaves behind micro-habitats that nurture new growth, there are small pockets of humanity where compassion, courage, and justice endure—even when larger systems fail. These might be spaces where people listen deeply, care without conditions, or choose kindness over polarization.

2. Sanctuary is action, not avoidance.
The refugia Rienstra describes are not places to hide indefinitely. They are environments where life regenerates—spaces where brokenness is acknowledged, healing begins, and new growth becomes possible. These refugia are not perfect, but they are real, life-giving, and palpable. In our communities, they might show up as grassroots care networks, creative collaborations, quiet moments of compassion, or deep friendships that sustain us through hard times.

3. We are called to nurture them.
Whether inside a church building or not, the world needs these micro-sanctuaries—places where empathy and hope can be practiced daily. In a culture that often prizes power, progress, or dominance, refugia ask us to value vulnerability, to protect life, and to nurture relationships that heal rather than harm.

Rienstra herself asks a provocative question: “What would happen if we were known not for dominance or certainty, but as people of refugia?” What if our lives and communities were shaped around becoming safe, life-affirming spaces where others find shelter long enough to gather strength, courage, and hope? This kind of sanctuary is radical—not because it is grand, but because it is humble, resilient, and life-affirming in a world that often feels fractured.

A Closing Thought

Sanctuary in our times may not always look like a church. It may not wear institutional robes or have a sign out front. Instead, it might look like a listening presence, a welcoming table, a brave voice standing for justice, a steady companion in grief. These are modern refugia—hidden, small, necessary—and they are the places where life and hope begin to spring anew.

Lack of spiritual language and practices
Not knowing what to trust or how to discern what truth means to them
Confusion about spiritual identity, values, and meaning
Difficulty making grounded life decisions in connection with a higher power
Longing for depth of spiritual experience without church doctrine or theology
Feeling scattered, unrooted, or unsure what practices to do to bring them back to feeling connected spiritually

Grief, anger, or betrayal from past church experiences that needs to be unboxed

Fear of judgment, pressure, or being pulled back into religion if they have left a church and reach out to their church leaders

Avoidance of spiritual language or practices and so feeling bereft of practices they can do

Feeling spiritually homeless or disconnected from community
Losing a sense of belonging or identity after leaving church
Not having anyone to talk to about spiritual questions
Restlessness, loneliness, or a quiet sense of something missing
Wanting to talk about lingering shame, guilt, or internalized religious messages