Witchvox Article

Author:
Posted: August 12th. 2001
Times Viewed: 3,826

Sacred space. It's what the Christians felt they were creating when they built Chartres or Winchester, or what they feel when they dedicate a churchyard, the 'hallowed ground' of tradition. It's what neo-Pagans feel they've called into being when they draw the sacred circle. It's what most of us, probably, feel we have in our homes, and what we feel is violated if someone breaks in.

It's a useful concept; to some extent it defines our experience of safety, comfort, and connection. It's what Scott Russell Sanders and Wendell Berry feel is largely missing in contemporary American culture, what they feel we need if we're to treat our local and global environments as eternal rather than disposable: a sense of place. As theories of 'what's wrong with us' go, that one's not hard to agree with.

But it's an odd concept too, because it's predicated on the existence of space that's not sacred: profane space. Profane space seems to be that which hasn't been sanctified by human presence, or human intent. The idea of sacred space implies--even in neo-Pagan circles--that human presence and intent are the elements which makesacred space. And while one might expect such a belief in a religion which has a history of cutting down other people's sacred groves, it's an odd thing for nature worshippers to buy into. When we draw our circles, are we really suggesting that the ground wasn't sacred before?

Before we can answer that, it seems fair to acknowledge that such a belief might exist in neo-Pagan circles because it's a cultural habit for many of us. European-American culture has a long history of distinguishing between what is sacred and what must be conquered. To the early European adventurers, all of the 'new world' was profane space; its size and wildness were tremendously exciting (Columbus, John Smith, and many others raved about its beauty and abundance, and not entirely for advertising purposes) but that size and wildness held at least equal potential for terror. 'It' could destroy 'us', the adventurers found; 'we' could be lost in 'it', our identities disrupted, our selfhood and our control destroyed. As Nina Baym discussed in the critical study The Lay of the Land, the patriarchal metaphors about the land as woman -- either a 'virgin', good, and untouched, a helpful (read objectified and tame) 'mother' of abundance, or a 'bad' woman who had been spoiled by too many men -- reflect the fear of place and the sense that place must be defined. That metaphor also reflects the much older belief that place which is not dedicated to the dominant paradigm must be either controlled or destroyed.

As neo-Pagans, we would prefer to think that we don't do that.

And certainly it's not as 'necessary' to worry about scary spaces as it must once have seemed. If the landscape, as Louis Gross argued in his book on Gothic fiction, was the locus of terror in much American fiction, the landscape has become less threatening in this century. Many indigenous cultural groups, of course, manage both to deal with the potential for destruction and to consider every rock sacred, but not many neo-Pagans are so competent in dealing with the phsyical exigencies of landscape. Speaking for myself, I lack the skills to kill for food, to navigate in the wilderness, or to build a fire without matches; if I were lost fifteen miles inside a national park, I might easily start to feel 'all the forces of nature arrayed against me', as Shackleton said. For most of us, it's easier to find landscape sacred when it's not threatening us. And for Pagans who live in suburbia and who don't live in hurricane alley, it's rare to feel very threatened by it.

Another factor in our increasing ease with the landscape is the fact that it gives the appearance (largely spurious, as global warming demonstrates) of being 'tamed.' A European-American habit of history is to destroy things and then to elegize them, like the memorial to the last passenger pigeon. Once those troublesome birds were gone, we could regret their disappearance. The genre of modern nature writing seems in large part a response to our recognition that nature as we knew it is changing. It's easier to feel that the landscape is sacred when we're afraid we might lose it.

Whether it is these factors or others which make contemporary neo-Pagan identification with place today possible, though, the fact remains that we tend to view ourselves as having a spiritual connection with the earth. We tend, broadly speaking, to say that the world in all of its elements is inherently sacred. This being so, what is the function of drawing a circle and declaring 'sacred space'? Isn't it already sacred? 'Always already' sacred, as they say in academic circles?

This is the point at which my theories become increasingly fuzzy, because I'm just not sure whether our custom of sacred space declaration reflects the attitude of dominant culture without meaning to, or whether it's actually a way of connecting ourselves to a sacred we acknowledge as already present.

Leaving out the ritual function of the circle in focusing our attentions and energies, I'm not really sure whether it's consistent with our (various) philosophies to 'create' sacred space. It's true that we say, in opening the circle, that it remains unbroken, that sacredness does not depart with our words -- which does suggest that sacredness isn't ours to bestow. It's true, too, that I do feel some space to be 'sacreder' than other space, particularly space in which people have done the same (loving and undamaging) things together over and over: magic or prayer or composting. A garden which has been worked and turned and organically fed and had its crops rotated seems more sacred to me than a patch of neglected crabgrass, though not, probably, more sacred than a patch of ground in an old-growth forest which has never been cultivated within written record.

In pondering what aesthetic gives rise to these rather arbitrary distinctions, I'm arriving at a different sense of the act of 'creating' sacred space: it's not so much creating, or claiming, as it is reclaiming. Perhaps it's fair -- and not too inconsistent -- to say that all space is already sacred in any of its natural states, which are generally states of great richness and diversity; a square foot of tidal sand, or forest floor, fairly teems with the life and death which are, surely, the only real designation of the sacred. The patch of crabgrass, or of strip-mall concrete, has had its sacredness diminished by (you guessed it) human presence, and human intention. When we disregard space -- and there is no more prevalent way to disregard it than to make it biologically (and therefore spiritually) more poor than it might have been -- we create profane space. Maybe when we claim a space as sacred, we are really declaring it sacred again or sacred now; maybe it is these prior acts of disregard which we attempt to undo with our presence, and our intent.

This possibility, which is certainly open to debate, is satisfying to me, when I try to understand why we who worship the world still use ritual which implies that sacredness is ours to declare or to withhold. It gives me a reason to declare sacred space in my circles, and to feel its presence elsewhere.

But such an option also raises larger issues about how sacred space is best created. It suggests that if I really want to create some sacred space, maybe I should plant a few trees (native species for choice), cut out the honeysuckle or English ivy that's strangling what's there, put a few earthworms into the soil, or do a little composting. If I have a yard full of crabgrass -- lawns are notoriously impoverished in terms of ecological diversity, and they're certainly one of the stranger results of human intention -- maybe I ought to be letting it grow up, or planting it with something which will attract more diverse life. Maybe I ought to plant and design to attract native birds and insects; and maybe sweat and thought can sanctify space at least as effectively as the words of the ritual. If it's a question of sacred space in the house, maybe my blessings should be accompanied by opening the windows, eschewing air conditioning and toxic cleansers whenever possible, and doing a little housecleaning -- of the kind that doesn't disturb the spiders.

In short, I'm wondering now if the definition of sacred space mightn't have as much to do with the shovel as with the athame.

Cat

ABOUT...

Location: , USA

Bio: Cat is a teacher and writer in western North Carolina who follows an eclectic path. She is an avid (some would say rabid) conservationist, and urges all readers to compost their SUV's (in very small pieces.)

Other Articles: has posted 1 additional articles- View them?

Other Listings: To view ALL of my listings: Click HERE

Email ... (No, I have NOT opted to receive Pagan Invites! Please do NOT send me anonymous invites to groups, sales and events.)

Home - TWV Logos - Email US - Privacy

News and Information

Chapters: Pagan/Heathen Basics - Pagan BOOKS - Traditions, Paths & Religions - Popular Pagan Holidays - TV & Movies - Cats of the Craft - Festival Reviews - Festival Tips - White Pages (Resources) - Issues/Concerns - West Memphis 3 - Witch Hunts - Pagan Protection Tips - Healing Planet Earth

Your Voices: Adult Essays - Young Pagan Essays - Pagan Perspectives (On Hold) - WitchWars: Fire in the Craft - Gay Pagan - Pagan Parenting - Military - Pagan Passages

Pagan Music: Pagan Musicians - Bardic Circle at WitchVox - Free Music from TWV

Vox Central: About TWV - Wren: Words, Wrants and Wramblings - Guest Rants - Past Surveys - A Quest for Unity

Weekly Updates: Click HERE for an index of our weekly updates for the past 6 years

W.O.T.W. - World-Wide Networking

Your Town: A Link to YOUR Area Page (The largest listing of Witches, Pagans, Heathens and Wiccans on the Planet)

VoxLinks: The Pagan Web: 8,000 Listings

Your Witchvox Account: Log in Now - Create New Account - Request New Password - Log in Problems

Personal Listings: Pagan Clergy in Your Town - Adult Pagans - Young Pagans - Military Pagans

Events: Circles, Gatherings, Workshops & Festivals

Covens/Groups/Orgs: Local Groups Main Page

Other LOCAL Resources: Local Shops - Regional Sites - Local Notices - Global/National Notices - Local Skills & Services - Local Egroups - Political Freedom Fighters

Pagan Shopping: Online Shops Index - Original Crafters Sites - Auction Sites - Pagan Wholesalers - Pagan Local Shops

Web Site Content (including: text - graphics - html - look & feel)
Copyright 1997-2009 The Witches' Voice Inc. All rights reserved
Note: Authors & Artists retain the copyright for their work(s) on this website.
Unauthorized reproduction without prior permission is a violation of copyright laws.

Website structure, evolution and php coding by Fritz Jung on a Macintosh G5.

Any and all personal political opinions expressed in the public listing sections (including, but not restricted to, personals, events, groups, shops, Wrenâ€™s Nest, etc.) are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect the opinion of The Witchesâ€™ Voice, Inc. TWV is a nonprofit, nonpartisan educational organization.

Sponsorship: Visit the Witches' Voice Sponsor Page for info on how you
can help support this Community Resource. Donations ARE Tax Deductible.
The Witches' Voice carries a 501(c)(3) certificate and a Federal Tax ID.

Mail Us: The Witches' Voice Inc., P.O. Box 341018, Tampa, Florida 33694-1018 U.S.A.

Witches, Pagans
of The World

Current Topic
Editorial Guide

NOTE: The essay on this page contains the writings and opinions of the listed author(s) and is not necessarily shared or endorsed by the Witches' Voice inc.

The Witches' Voice does not verify or attest to the historical accuracy contained in the content of this essay.

All WitchVox essays contain a valid email address, feel free to send your comments, thoughts or concerns directly to the listed author(s).