The Integrity of Sacred Spaces
Nov. 29th, 2012 11:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
storytimewithjoeWhile heading up to LA last night with my honey to catch dinner and a show, I noticed a familiar site off the side of the highway. A not-so-common round-shaped church building cast a shadow across the highway. Somewhat short and squat with a large spire jutting out of the geometric roof, this particular building reflects that pre-ergonomic architectural style of the 70’s – borrowing from the “newness” of atomic-age concepts, while trying to simply be different. There isn’t a lot of practicality to this style. But it is at least distinctly different from older, more traditional designs.
When I first saw this church many years ago, it may have still been in use. I know that it had glass walls, which gave churchgoers the less-than-contemplative view of the busy highway. Yet, since that time, boards now cover the windows, and sadly it is shamefully coated in graffiti – seemingly lost and abandoned. And to me, that is sad. No, it was not my church. I do not subscribe to a particular church or a hard-and-fast one-true-belief. But I do hold a sense of respect for the sacred.
To me, sacred space is just that – sacred. There is something wonderfully calm and serene about a sacred space. It is the space where things happen. I have often come across these sacred spaces while wandering alone in a forest. Walking among the trees, I may stumble across a clearing. Within the denseness of the forest, there is no apparent reason for there to be a patch clear of trees. But for whatever reason, there aren’t. And as I walk into that patch, suddenly the breeze dies down, the birds stop chirping, and there is complete and total calm and silence – up until the hushed-at-first, but then nearly deafening buzz of cicadas. For me, that is a sacred space – a place claimed by whatever form of divinity for meditation, calmness, serenity, and contemplation.
I don’t believe there is a hard and fast rule when it comes to sacred spaces. I do believe that nature tends to favor their creation here and there. And as long as people don’t come along and completely f$#* the space up, it will continue to be sacred by its own nature. Such spaces have often been used by religion after religion over the course of time. There is no coincidence to the fact that many old European churches were built on top of what had been earlier pagan worship sites. But then there is also the consideration of practicality. Sometimes, a sacred space is simply needed by the local people. So whether or not a patch of ground out there has a particular vibe, a building of some sort is built and the sacredness is created and encouraged and nurtured. With a little bit of luck, over time and repetition, the sacredness begins to grow – much like a tiny sapling planted in poor soil. It takes work, and water, and nutrients – but eventually, it will take.
To me, that is why I find it sad to see a church – ANY church – in such a clear and obvious state of degradation. Unlike the ruins of countless churches found throughout Europe – many of which still resonate with the still vibration of the sacred, the odd little 70’s church has become nothing more than an eyesore to the passing traffic – with no feeling anymore of the sacred or for the sincere.
To me, respecting the sacred is, at its core, simply the right thing to do. I cannot explain why. I just know that it is. I don’t really care if the sacred space is a church, or a temple, or a synagogue, or a grave yard, or a shrine, or an ancient stream or a clearing in the middle of the woods. In a world that is sometimes so full of war, and violence, and greed, and cruelty; we could all stand to put some more oomph into the creation and nurturing of sacred space.
Respect the sacred – while there is still some sacred out there to be respected.
When I first saw this church many years ago, it may have still been in use. I know that it had glass walls, which gave churchgoers the less-than-contemplative view of the busy highway. Yet, since that time, boards now cover the windows, and sadly it is shamefully coated in graffiti – seemingly lost and abandoned. And to me, that is sad. No, it was not my church. I do not subscribe to a particular church or a hard-and-fast one-true-belief. But I do hold a sense of respect for the sacred.
To me, sacred space is just that – sacred. There is something wonderfully calm and serene about a sacred space. It is the space where things happen. I have often come across these sacred spaces while wandering alone in a forest. Walking among the trees, I may stumble across a clearing. Within the denseness of the forest, there is no apparent reason for there to be a patch clear of trees. But for whatever reason, there aren’t. And as I walk into that patch, suddenly the breeze dies down, the birds stop chirping, and there is complete and total calm and silence – up until the hushed-at-first, but then nearly deafening buzz of cicadas. For me, that is a sacred space – a place claimed by whatever form of divinity for meditation, calmness, serenity, and contemplation.
I don’t believe there is a hard and fast rule when it comes to sacred spaces. I do believe that nature tends to favor their creation here and there. And as long as people don’t come along and completely f$#* the space up, it will continue to be sacred by its own nature. Such spaces have often been used by religion after religion over the course of time. There is no coincidence to the fact that many old European churches were built on top of what had been earlier pagan worship sites. But then there is also the consideration of practicality. Sometimes, a sacred space is simply needed by the local people. So whether or not a patch of ground out there has a particular vibe, a building of some sort is built and the sacredness is created and encouraged and nurtured. With a little bit of luck, over time and repetition, the sacredness begins to grow – much like a tiny sapling planted in poor soil. It takes work, and water, and nutrients – but eventually, it will take.
To me, that is why I find it sad to see a church – ANY church – in such a clear and obvious state of degradation. Unlike the ruins of countless churches found throughout Europe – many of which still resonate with the still vibration of the sacred, the odd little 70’s church has become nothing more than an eyesore to the passing traffic – with no feeling anymore of the sacred or for the sincere.
To me, respecting the sacred is, at its core, simply the right thing to do. I cannot explain why. I just know that it is. I don’t really care if the sacred space is a church, or a temple, or a synagogue, or a grave yard, or a shrine, or an ancient stream or a clearing in the middle of the woods. In a world that is sometimes so full of war, and violence, and greed, and cruelty; we could all stand to put some more oomph into the creation and nurturing of sacred space.
Respect the sacred – while there is still some sacred out there to be respected.
