What Makes a Place Sacred?

By Tom Lev-Ari Beiz

From giant statues on Easter Island, which contain the sacred spirits of leaders, to ancient structures such as the Temple of the Sun standing in the mountains of Peru — the planet is adorned with countless sacred sites to which people make pilgrimages to offer prayers. Some constitute collective spiritual sites serving enormous populations of thousands of believers, while others are more private and intimate.

Every system of beliefs contains sacredness. It exists between a person and their deity in their everyday communication, grows stronger during local communal rituals, and its presence is felt many times over in collective sacred places that embrace hundreds of thousands of worshippers. 

On a smaller scale, a private belief system also contains a range of feelings associated with sacredness and spirituality. At every level, sacred places appear to carry tremendous meaning, and even an individual belief system can have its own holy places, where faith is experienced in all its fullness.

So, what makes a place sacred? Is it its history, or sacred events that occurred there? Are there some natural characteristics shared by all sacred places? And do people play a role in creating their power?

Initial Sacredness and Accumulated Sacredness
One perspective on the sacredness of places can be found in the Sacred Spaces author Margaret Sief. In her studies of the Celtic peoples, Sief found that they believed that the two worlds, the physical and the spiritual, were one.

The spiritual one, the invisible one, was separated only by the membrane of consciousness. This membrane could sometimes be solid and other times it could be very thin so that the presence of both worlds is equal.

Could the closeness between the physical and spiritual worlds constitute a definition of a sacred place? And if so, what is it about those sites that makes this closeness possible? 

In a sermon, Reverend Samuel G. Candler, dean of St. Philip’s Cathedral argues that the cathedral is not sacred because of its architectural structure, the almost physically tangible quiet that prevails within it, or the opportunity it offers for solitude. 

“Every time someone offers a prayer in the cathedral, they help make it sacred,” Candler said suggesting more generally that every spiritual event, such as a prayer, makes the place in which it occurs a little more sacred.

If we return to the different scales of belief systems, then, relatively speaking, a powerful event such as the crucifixion of Jesus holds the potential to turn a place into a collective sacred site for the millions who will come to pray there. 

A memorial to a family member who was killed may constitute a sacred place for the family and the close-knit community, where they can spend time in remembrance of their loved one and perhaps even feel the distance between the physical and spiritual worlds growing smaller.

Alongside a sacred event that a place symbolizes, is there a natural terrain feature that serves as a platform for spiritual connection? Is it the open spaces or the sounds of trickling water? 

According to Candler, even the beaches of Normandy are enveloped in a sense of sacredness. However, he argues that this feeling does not stem from the impressive natural surroundings, but from the fact that many people lost their lives on this land in pursuit of a cause greater than themselves. War does not necessarily sound like a spiritual experience, but joining with something greater than you, and to the sanctity of life, certainly does.

A Critical Mass of Sacredness
It seems, then, that for a place to become sacred, it must accumulate a critical mass of sacred moments, relative to the size of the community that adheres to that belief system. This critical mass can be accumulated through a mega-sacred event that attracts thousands of believers, or gradually, as a monastery within a local community accumulates it over the years. Can sacred places also be created within the private belief system that exists only between an individual.

An example of a place where sacredness is taking shape as these lines are being written is Berlin’s Devil Mountain. It is a site that is neither natural nor religious, yet, it is gaining a reputation as a modern spiritual destination.

Devil Mountain, according to Up Magazine,  is a hill formed from a pile of the city’s rubble following World War II. At its summit stand several partially ruined structures, two of which are adorned with a large dome, and almost every concrete surface within the surrounding radius is covered in graffiti. The place has an almost surreal character, and it turns out that something about it attracts quite a few people, who climb up to it and gather to experience various kinds of spiritual encounters.

Perhaps in the same way, only on a different scale, you have the ability to create sacred places for yourself. A kind of pastoral corner in the garden where you repeat a ritual that reflects your belief system. You do not need dozens of practitioners to attend your festival, because you do not expect the site that becomes sacred to turn sacred for the masses.

A sacred place can become a refuge during moments when the physical world weighs heavily upon you — an island of quiet where the membrane separating everyday reality from the unseen spiritual world is thinned.

The Essence of Life magazine provides knowledge and practical tools for a more conscious and meaningful life. The nonprofit organization behind the magazine, Essence of Life, was founded by businesswoman, philanthropist, and Goodnet founder Shari Arison. Part of the Arison Group, the organization works to raise awareness and foster inner peace.