Defining the Sacred by Patricia O'Shea

As I read the scholarship about the concept of sacred, I find my ability to understand the term in a way that could be accepted by different cultures or even the multiple groups within a culture more and more difficult. It does not take long to realize the complexity of the subject. I grew up as a Catholic, educated in Catholic schools by nuns who had no doubts, at least on the surface, of what sacred meant. Sacred was used to describe those things that the Church deemed divine; that is, the people, rituals, and objects chosen by the Church through the divine intervention of God to define Catholicism. And so until now, Sacred is one of those terms I took for granted: Of course I know what sacred means.

I have never pondered or questioned the definition; although, I have used it to describe what some scholars would define as profane—ordinary earthly events common to our human experiences. I would sometimes think of certain family events as sacred. For example, at first sight of my newborn children I felt true awe. For a few moments, everything else was suspended—people, place, and time—didn’t exist. Only the baby and I existed in a shared experience of life that no one else could feel or comprehend. (In a very small way, it is like the experience of storytelling in that each experience can only happen once.) The thing that made childbirth different for me was that feeling of awe. Awe is what made the experience sacred, and though I wouldn’t use the word divine, I might say that I venerated the phenomenon of marriage, family and parenthood. In a grossly over-simplified generalization of Evans’ discussion (The Sacred: Differentiating, Clarifying, and Extending Concepts) this is how I understand the meaning of sacred outside the context of religion. 

My understanding of Childbirth was a thing set apart, something no other individual will understand exactly the way I do. Others—mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc.—will have their own experiences with childbirth. Some may even call those experiences sacred; but, they will never have my experience. Given the subjectivity inherent in the meaning of sacred, I can only, going forward, consider any formal definition limited and any personal definition worthy of respectful consideration.  

Comments

[Myranette Robinson]

I love the beauty of this post. Even though I don't have children, I always have thought of childbirth as sacred. The definition that I most feel in tune with is-set apart. In reading it for class, I remembered that I was taught that in a bible study class. I now feel comfortable using the word sacred in anything that I choose to set apart.

[Marian Giannatti]

Beautifully written. As an adoptive mother - I felt the awe that you describe, yet in a very different way. Awe that someone would choose to give life to a child that they couldn't raise. Awe that they chose me to be the mother of their child. Awe that i was given the opportunity that otherwise would have been denied. Always a miracle - and a sacred bond was formed. Thank you for reminding me . . .

[Nirit Simon]

I tend to think of childbirth in more clinical terms. And I tend to think of babies as small versions of the adults they will one day become. Yet every time I listen to someone tell about their witnessing of a birth, I feel very moved and can't help but tear up. Weird. Maybe there is something primal going on here.

[Elizabeth Wunsch]

The definition of sacred varies for everyone and that is the beauty of it all. Your connection to the sacredness of your newborn is beautiful. Thank you for sharing!

[LlisRalley]

You have come to the center of what I have learned in this class. Sacred is a very, very personal thing.