Defining the Sacred

What is sacred? How do we understand the the word, the concept, the notion? Do we have a common understanding of what it signifies? We may consult dictionaries to find a lexical definition, but in many cases the definition reflects usage, and although helpful, it does not settle the definition.

          A definition in connection with interpretation of church architecture will be a 'working definition', and the key is that for something to be sacred, it must have been sanctified by someone or something which has the power and authority to do so. God is the sanctifying agent, and we act on his promises of being there to sanctify a moment. His presence is a sanctifying. His presence makes the moment sacred.

          In the book of Leviticus, we have clear instructions about the place of worship, a tent like construction called a tabernacle. In this system of worship every single detail is prescribed by God, in direct command, from what vessels to use, how to perform various acts of sacrifice and how to act any connection with God. The point in these clear and detailed descriptions is that all instruction is based in God's words, in his initiative, in his power. There is no room for human magic, for human power to be exerted over the congregation. The priest is as dependent on the given layout as anyone else. The priest performs according to the instructions, and when it is done accordingly, there is the promise that God is active in and through it. Because the acts of sacrifice are carried out based on God's will, the results are following: there is forgiveness for sins; there is ablution.

          Here we have sacred vessels, clothing, demarcation lines within the tabernacle walls for sacred space, sacred acts in sacred time. As stated, the sanctifying agent is God.

          How, then, do we see the church? How do we see the local church which was designed by a professional architect, constructed by a building company, paid for by the local commune or by money collected from the congregation? What makes this place sacred? What about the rituals, the liturgies, the performance of connectedness in the acts of the priests and congregation?

          To step aside form the immediate answer, some of us experience a sense of the sacred as we may enter into a majestic cathedral, like Westminster Abbey in London. I still relive my last entry into the large building - through massive wooden doors, being greeted by a local member of the congregation who wanted to let me know that this is a living church, a place for worship, with regular services, and - please do not disturb the service in progress - and I gave him my word in a silent nod. So, as I entered, the light shone through the tall stained glass windows in streaked lines, revealing the dust particles in the air. The noise and business from the street were dulled to a faint and far away sound. I stood on a hard stone floor, but the layout of the architecture made me move in one direction, and as I walked I was met with coffins in niches, which troubled me. Stone statues passed me, and the symbolism of the biblical world tumulted around me. All through the few moments upon my entry I was awed by the sense of the sacred: of a lung in the profane where I was invited to come close to God. And I sat down on a wooden chair to join the locals.

          Was it the beauty that captured me? Was it the sense of being small and humble in the great sanctuary that caused me to tune my heart to God? Was it the fact that I knew I entered a church and not a museum? What was it that caused my immediate sense of being in a sacred place? Are such sentiments justified?

          In my youth I studied Kant's " Kritik der Urteilskraft", and he speaks about the aesthetical judgement as almost like a faculty, a kind of common sense we possess to validate such experiences as real. Perhaps I was right there, in a sacred space, and I just 'knew' it, intuitively. I think I am not the only one with this sort of experience.

          However, my intuition needs some form of justification - or at least explanation. As a Christian, I have been given the Holy Spirit, and this I share with other believers all over the world. I can find a home with other believers. The promise of Jesus is that where two or three are gathered, there He is, in our midst. The presence of the Jesus sanctifies the moment. We share the bread and wine in communion It is upon his commands, his instructions that we eat and drink together. The only agent that is at work in and through the sacred act is the presence of Jesus. What is being performed in our hearts at this moment is no less that a miracle: upon His word, we have the forgiveness of sins. We may leave the place and be fully cleansed and renewed.

What makes a local church sacred space is the moments of sacred time: the presence of God; Jesus in our midst. We commune on His premises and on His promises. That constitutes the sacred. It is sanctified by God, who has power and authority to do so.

There are many more aspects of defining the 'sacred'. We may look at the difference between 'holy' and 'sacred. We may look at contrasts as in sacred/profane, or question misconceptions of 'sacred', dwell on expanded usage of the term (where there is no relation to any metaphysical reality, only within the human realm). But, for all practical purposes, in relations to church architecture and Christian sacred spaces, it is vital to see God as the sanctifying agent, and that no authority and power are given to men.