We try to display ourselves as strong, independent beings, as confident and un-phased by the events around us. In reality, it is often a show, a facade, a cry for attention rather than an element of fortitude.
The shrine kept expanding and expanding to take in more and more pilgrims. It was a palpable lesson that we are capable of taking so many into our hearts if we dare let it expand to encompass the whole humanity.
Rumi died in 1273. To this day, his devotees celebrate his departure from the world as one would in a marriage, apt for a man who sought the highest love in life, and found it most completely in death.
Rumi very consciously made himself and his poetry a bridge between cultures and between religions. There is nothing exclusivist about him. He includes everyone in his embrace. He was, and is, a healer of whatever might separate us.