is temporarily (11/2009- ) off-line, while decisions are being made about its
scope and content. If you wish to contact the author, please send
e-mail to: genevieve@sacred-spaces.info
Meanwhile, enjoy this reflection on the notion of "sacred space."

Cathedrals stand as monuments to the universal search for meaning; they are physical embodiments of this search and, simultaneously, they reveal much about the spirituality of those who first built and used them. Buddhist temples, Islamic mosques, Hindu ashrams, Native American sweat lodges, African dance circles—all represent a similar longing to gain insights into life’s deepest questions: Who are we? Why are we here? Where did we come from? Where are we going? The need to ask these questions is, in some sense, as important as the need to give lasting form and expression to our answers.
Humans seem intuitively to know that there is more to this life than meets the eye, that there is what some would call a “sacred dimension” to our existence. Sacred truths can only be seen, to extend the metaphor, by one’s peripheral vision—never directly. They do not address the traditional five senses. Sacred truths require faith. G. K. Chesterton has described the phenomenon of faith as being like the sun: one cannot look at it directly, but everything else is seen more clearly because of it. And it is in this domain of knowing and yet not knowing, of understanding more than we can explain, of mystery, that sacredness resides.
What is a sacred space? At its most basic, it is a place which invites the contemplation of divine mystery, and encourages an attitude of spiritual openness.* A sacred space is not necessarily where answers are grasped or understood. Rather it is where questions are asked, conversations occur, rituals are perpetuated, dances are performed, songs are sung, and silence is heard—all in the attempt to find answers. But this, in itself, raises questions.
Many have pointed to the trouble of separating the sacred from the secular. The distinction assumes, first of all, that some things are sacred, while others are not. It also assumes that, if there is indeed a rift between the two, we humans will know it when we see it. Furthermore, the distinction depends on one’s understanding of the terms. Not all religious communities see eye-to-eye on this point. In the Christian tradition, for example, little is intrinsically sacred, but many things can be made so through blessings and rituals. Everyday things like bread, water, oil, and wine can be made holy—consecrated, to use the technical term. Even an ancient method of capital punishment, like crucifixion, can become an occasion of transforming grace in the eyes of a Christian. Buddhism, on the other hand, teaches that all things are sacred, while Hinduism and Islam each represent contrasting middle grounds with respect to what is sacred. Given the broad range of opinions on the subject, the author wishes to make clear at the outset that, in her view, no single theology has a monopoly on the notion of a sacred space. At the risk of sounding pantheistic, she also suggests that certain extraordinarily beautiful natural sites, some of which are in and around Santa Barbara, have a way of disarming the skeptic and stirring the soul of the believer. They reveal the Creator’s hand and life-giving breath in special ways, without reference to specific doctrines or traditions.
The notion of a sacred space is complex, encompassing a range of aspects: architecture, geography, core beliefs, community stories, and not least of all the receptivity of one’s soul. When several of these elements come together, the result can range from breathtaking to overpowering. One thinks of the Transfiguration account in Christian scripture (Matt. 17:4), in which one of the apostles remarks, “Lord, it is good for us to be here!” This is how the author and her soul-mates sometimes feel about their favorite sacred spaces around Santa Barbara.
In the end, sacred spaces reveal themselves. They have a way of growing on the visitor, almost like something organic. Some would say they “breathe,” and that the old stories which their walls have witnessed are somehow “whispered to those who listen.” Usually sacred spaces are found in inviting places, which somehow retain the aura of those who have passed that way. Finally, they can be a wonderful antidote to all that is superficial and frenzied in modern society.
May the gentle reader bask in the history, the rich heritage, the stories, and the visions that this Web site evokes. May the pilgrims who draw inspiration from these Web pages be encouraged to go beyond them, toward direct encounters with the sacred spaces that beckon, whether here in Santa Barbara or elsewhere.
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