Tags
Athens, culture, Nazi Germany, Philosophy, Plato, story, theology
As I have tried to unpack my concept of education and the sacred, I realized that I must define what I mean by the sacred. This is something I am still in the process of thinking through, so the following is certainly no more than a working definition, but it is the best I’ve got at the present. Please feel free to comment and let me know where it needs clarification.
First, let me say that the concept I am defining as ‘sacred’ comes from my readings of many people from many different fields: theology, sociology, education, public sphere theory, curriculum theory, philosophy, the philosophy of moral education, etc. As it is a work in progress (and given the fact that I am reading more and more in this vein all the time), you will forgive me if it sounds like it is either too shallow or too convoluted. It more than likely is.
I am using the term “sacred” to describe the sense of a culture, nation, and/or people group’s overarching, meta-narrative; that is, to use the work of Neil Postman, the grand Story a culture is telling about itself through ways that would be apparent to an outside observer (my ubiquitous “Martian” watching us from the perspective of the unnattached cultural anthropologist . This narrative is revealed in many ways: how its adherents spend their time, money, and resources; how and to what end they employ language and rhetoric; what are its dominant ideologies and structures of power, etc.; in short, to borrow from Walter Wink, what is the “interiority” behind the visible facade of things. This narrative of the sacred is revealed by many things: its architecture, rituals, public gathering spaces, uses of smaller narratives to support the larger, meta-narrative, and so on.
Let me give a few examples that may help to clarify: for the ancient Athenians, the polis (or city) was the center of their sacred narrative. According to Alasdair MacIntyre (in his great book, After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory, Third Edition) the Athenian polis as Aristotle conceived it, was a community in which men in company pursue the human good, rather than the private good of the individual. This shared sense of virtue (arete) lived out in practice with each other was the common narrative that bound together each strand of Athenian life, from the marketplace to the theater, from Plato’s Academia, to its vision of democracy for all people (excluding women and slaves, of course). This narrative was vastly different from what Sparta held as sacred (military power, war ethos), that defined its theory of education, social system, culture, architecture, etc. Nazi Germany, with its vision of a glorified resurgence of the “Fatherland” as testified to by its rhetoric, use of public spaces, education into the Hitler Youth, war machine, propaganda etc., is another bold example of a nation’s clearly defined sense of the “sacred.”
As you can see, I am not using the term sacred to denote solely a religious belief. Rather, I am folding religion into what a nation/people group hold as sacred. Certainly religion plays a role, but it is not the only one. The sacred as I use it, to return to Walter Wink, is the inner essence of a grand narrative shaped around a collective sense of purpose, meaning, value, etc. made manifest through such things as economics, politics, religion, education, family, norms, mores, rhetoric, power structures, etc. Indeed, the list may be endless. The key, then, is that a people group as a collective adhere to its practices, regardless of their own personally held beliefs. There may be Baptists, Muslims, Democrats, and homosexuals living within the narrative, but, no matter how different their individual narratives may be, those smaller narratives are ultimately shaped by the larger narrative at play. This is why I use the Martian metaphor; it is often difficult for fish to know the water in which they swim.
For my work, I will continue to tinker, tighten, and explore this definition of the sacred. The bigger question I am concerned with is, once we identify what our shared sense of the sacred is, what next? If we come to find out that what we hold as “sacred” is not really sacred (that is, worthy of respect, devotion, and awe) what then? The answer lies in the role of the lonely prophet, the one who stands within the sacred, critiquing it on its own merits, in order to ultimately redeem it back to its true and rightful purpose.
“the inner essence of a grand narrative shaped around a collective sense of purpose, meaning, value, etc. made manifest through such things as economics, politics, religion, education, family, norms, mores, rhetoric, power structures, etc. Indeed, the list may be endless”. Could this inner essence be called Holy? As I move through the processes of my day/work/life “the Säcred” changes but should it? Do we have of a core inner essence that helps defne what is sacred for each of us? Can a western culture have anything but a ïndividualist sacred”? Really enjoy reading and thinking about sacred.
These are great questions! Here is my response to these:
Do we have of a core inner essence that helps defne what is sacred for each of us? Perhaps, but, whatever that “core” may be, I would argue that it is first shaped by the larger narrative of a culture. In other words, we are born members enculturated into belief systems, rituals, ideologies, etc. long before we get a say in them
Can a western culture have anything but a ïndividualist sacred”? Not since the Enlightenment and the rise of modern capitalism
would calling that “core” be the same as being “created in the image”…..and how does faith fit into scared. If the age of enlightenment was a cultural movement of intellectuals with its purpose to reform society using reason (rather than tradition, faith and revelation) and advance knowledge through science yet perhaps for some faith is an intergal part of their scared then perhaps there is an individual element that must be considered?
Yes, that’s it! We are created in the image of that which we hold as sacred (We might call it “God” or we might call it National Socialism). My argument is that this is exactly why what we call “sacred” must be sacred and not profane–individuals are first and foremost shaped in the image of the larger narrative. I was born into the larger narratives of white, male, American, Oklahoman, etc, and each of these narratives have “creation” powers. It is when those powers of creation are “sick” (to use the work of Walter Wink) that we must hold them up to critique in order to redeem them if we want to redeem the individual.
I’m wondering if you are planning on distinguishing between the sacred and the profane (which is often either/or; presented as one being the absence of the other; etc)? It strikes me that the definition of a grand narrative or a collective sense of purpose could just as easily be profane as it is sacred, and being the Eliade indoctrinated person that I am, I want to see something that defines the sacred in a way that distinguishes it from the profane. Maybe that’s not the direction you are headed. Just trying to Harkness this up!
Yes! This is a central piece. To continue the metaphor, what I want to do is look at what happens when the sacred becomes profane (think Nazi Germany). If by “sacred” I mean that which allows for the flourishing of human community in all walks of life, then that which stands outside (pro-fanum=outside the temple) is the profane. For me, that is the problem. What we call sacred is profane. In other words, we are not what we should nor can be. A vision for a city/community/nation/people that holds up only economic success, but is deaf to the cries of the widow, the outcast, and the orphan is not sacred but profane. The problem is, we deem it sacred and live accordingly. Thoughts? Thanks for the discussion!
Pingback: Reframing the Sacred « The Wisdom Initiative