What is Sacred?

Some musings on what makes anything sacred.

I have very very dead peony hanging over my kitchen sink.  It is dried out and dusty and full of cob webs.  Dust rather than water is in the bud vase.  It’s been there for about five years, and somehow is pretty much intact.   It was the last peony in my garden in 2004.  I don’t have any other dried flowers or fake flowers in my house at all.  Most days I hardly notice this one.  Yet when I think about what is sacred to me, it is the first object that comes to mind…not a cross or holy picture or Israel or a church.  No, the most sacred thing in my mind is a flower I picked on June 5, 2004…as I left my house to go to the hospital and say goodbye to my father on the day he died.  With my car keys in hand I picked it and put it in the bud vase over my sink.  I didn’t do anything before or after that moment to that flower.  Surely I did nothing to make that peony sacred�"it’s still in the same bud vase, covered with cob webs, dried out and begging to return to dust.  One day it will crumble and I will not have it anymore.  I expect the experience of throwing it away could be sacred, connecting me to how I endured the loss of the most important person in my life, and maybe letting go just a little bit more.

The use of the word sacred used to be more strictly limited to things that were consensually decided upon as holy or meaningful in some spiritual way.  The church or religious society at large would declare a place or an object or even a person sacred.  People would take in the place or the experience and it was expected they would share in its holiness, or maybe the impact of its sacredness would make them more holy.   It’s interesting to recognize that our use of the word has become more liberal, or perhaps our recognition of what is sacred has become more diverse.  Time is often considered sacred, as in considering a morning walk or reading period sacred.  Memories can be sacred, as in the memory of a dead hero or of time spent with loved ones we cherish.  The sense of what is sacred is not limited to what is connected with a religion or a god, or religious or holy experiences.

It seems as if we now consider items, experiences or things that represent a moment of strong connection to the present sacred…something that impacts us and stops our minds and time.  Clearly, what is sacred is relative.  Assigning sacredness to an item or recognizing an experience as sacred in itself is a powerful act. 

In fact if I think about it, my dead dusty flower is sacred not just because it is an object I can recognize from such a powerful day, but also because I am connected to the experience of buying the peony plant, digging the hole so my father could easily plant the bush, how he bragged about how prolific “his peonies are” year after year, and how because peonies were his favorite flower I have about half a dozen gigantic peony bushes in my garden.  It’s an object that caught my eye and made me stop and act in a way to embrace the power of the moment, from when it came into my life until it will leave.   It is a memento of love, a physical representation of spirit.

Perhaps sacredness is more about what an object or an experience means to the individual perceiving it, or how it impacts them if they cannot define its meaning.  So then, must what is sacred be associated to something good or meaningful in a positive way? Can what’s terrifying or painful be considered sacred?  It makes sense that it can, but I don’t think it is the terror or the pain that is sacred…it is the element of the experience that connects us deeply to ourselves, our source, that is sacredness in its purest form.  When you, the personality… and you, the witness… are sharing the same experience..sacredness comes to be.  The endless thought waves of the mind cease, time stands perfectly still, the bigness of the moment floods into our being and all we are left with is right now.  The objects that represent, the stories about or descriptions of our experiences are not inherently sacred, they become sacred by the meaning they are imbued with, the same way sounds become words that convey meaning.  All of the self imposed travesties and tragedies of our time have come from disputes or debates about what is sacred.  I pray that we all come to know the world when that same energy is redirected to understanding what is considered sacred by anyone or anything…no matter the source.