This is a song about Marc Cohn's experience as a non-religious Jew looking at religious Jews and musing about his own secular spirituality. As a secular Jew myself, I can relate to the bittersweet feelings it embodies.
In the first verse he is watching Orthodox Jews in Manhattan's Upper West Side (Riverside Drive) walking as they often do on holidays. In this case it is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. The reference to "the new desert" is probably a reference to the 40 year long trip to the promised land after the exodus from Egypt in the Bible. It implies that these Jews still haven't found home.
On Rosh Hashanah observant Jews ask God for forgiveness. Marc hopes that his children will provide that for him instead. In the first chorus, "This is my sanctuary" seems to refer to the refuge he feels in his love for his children.
Then the song shifts to New Orleans after Katrina, the period when this song was written. There may be some irony in the fact that the forgotten souls on the rooftops may have prayed to God, but didn't heed the warnings that the levee wouldn't hold...and now the mourners are marching every day. The next stanza reinforces this impression by pointing out that while many churches were flooded out, Preservation Hall, the heart of the New Orleans music tradition, survived. An old trumpet player's ghost now claims the chorus, "This is my sanctuary."
In the last verse we return to the Jews briefly: they are still waiting for a savior (religious Jews believe that the Messiah is still to come). Then, to me, the most mysterious couplet of the song, "You and me congregate in mystery, and I listen to you whisper in my ear." This could refer to any spiritual setting or perhaps the spirituality of being with a loved one.
In any case, he invites us all to join him in the sanctuary--"Let us pray," presumably in whatever place we find redemption in our lives. Gospel singers echo the message as the song closes, making a fitting pairing with the gospel piano player in "Walking in Memphis," to whom Marc answers, "Ma'am I am (a Christian) tonight" as he, the Jewish piano player, jams with the gospel band.
This is a song about Marc Cohn's experience as a non-religious Jew looking at religious Jews and musing about his own secular spirituality. As a secular Jew myself, I can relate to the bittersweet feelings it embodies.
In the first verse he is watching Orthodox Jews in Manhattan's Upper West Side (Riverside Drive) walking as they often do on holidays. In this case it is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. The reference to "the new desert" is probably a reference to the 40 year long trip to the promised land after the exodus from Egypt in the Bible. It implies that these Jews still haven't found home.
On Rosh Hashanah observant Jews ask God for forgiveness. Marc hopes that his children will provide that for him instead. In the first chorus, "This is my sanctuary" seems to refer to the refuge he feels in his love for his children.
Then the song shifts to New Orleans after Katrina, the period when this song was written. There may be some irony in the fact that the forgotten souls on the rooftops may have prayed to God, but didn't heed the warnings that the levee wouldn't hold...and now the mourners are marching every day. The next stanza reinforces this impression by pointing out that while many churches were flooded out, Preservation Hall, the heart of the New Orleans music tradition, survived. An old trumpet player's ghost now claims the chorus, "This is my sanctuary."
In the last verse we return to the Jews briefly: they are still waiting for a savior (religious Jews believe that the Messiah is still to come). Then, to me, the most mysterious couplet of the song, "You and me congregate in mystery, and I listen to you whisper in my ear." This could refer to any spiritual setting or perhaps the spirituality of being with a loved one.
In any case, he invites us all to join him in the sanctuary--"Let us pray," presumably in whatever place we find redemption in our lives. Gospel singers echo the message as the song closes, making a fitting pairing with the gospel piano player in "Walking in Memphis," to whom Marc answers, "Ma'am I am (a Christian) tonight" as he, the Jewish piano player, jams with the gospel band.