“The border around sacred art … alerts us that we are crossing over into something special, something sacred.”
Following the example of the Iconographic, if we want to revive Gothic as a living tradition we need to start offering some rules or conventions to guide artists who wish to work in this style of liturgical art. I hope that articles such as this will lead to a discussion that will result such a collection of guidelines.
Let’s start with the necessity for a border in sacred art.
Chronos and Kairos
In the beginning, the Book of Genesis tells us, God created the Heavens and the Earth. That is, God created two worlds, the physical and the spiritual. Man was created as a creature of both worlds. Because we are creatures of both flesh and spirit, we live in both worlds at the same time. We live in the physical world that is visible to us but we also live in the spiritual world that is hidden from our eyes. These two worlds are governed by two different types of time.
The physical world is measured by “Chronos,” chronological time. Chronos is observable and quantifiable. We know a day has passed because we can see the sun rise and set. We know a month has passed because we can observe the cycle of the moon as it waxes and wanes. And we know a year has passed because we can mark the passage of the sun and the length of the days. This cycle is so important to us that we have gone to extreme lengths to mark the two days of the year that serve as a threshold, when the day begin to get longer or shorter. Chronos answers the question “what time is it?” Is it time to reap? Is it time to sow? Is it time to eat?
Kairos, on the other governs the spiritual world. It is sacred time. We cannot observe it as we can Chronos. For example, if we could not count to seven, how would we know a week has passed? The seven day week is rooted in scripture, it is sacred time. God made the world in six days of uncountable hours and minutes, and then rested on the seventh. In the week is a microcosm of the year. Every Friday has echoes of Good Friday. Every Sunday points us to Pasch and the resurrection, the first day and the eighth day. Kairos answers the question, “is it the right time?” Is it appropriate time to offer sacrifice, to praise God for His splendors or thank Him for or blessings?
The architecture of a church, a properly designed church, recognizes this distinction between Chronos and Kairos, secular time and sacred time. When we enter a church we enter into a sacred space, governed by sacred time. There is at least one priest that I know of that will not allow a clock within the sanctuary and refuses to wear a watch. Sacred time should not be intruded upon by the mechanisms of the secular.
To help us transition from Chronos to Kairos, a properly designed church has a vestibule. Vestibules are not really understood these days. They usually take on the role of a quasi-auditorium. They are filled with people chatting and drinking coffee while they look over the plethora of books, pamphlets, and flyers that litter the space.
But all this activity obscures the true meaning of the vestibule. It is meant as an area of transition, a boundary or border that marks the passage from one world to the other. As we enter the vestibule we leave behind us the everyday world with all its cares and concerns and prepare to enter into the sacred. In the vestibule we take a moment to let go of all the worries, frustrations and anxieties that plague us “out there.” We take a deep breath as we cross that border, the doors to the church proper, and enter into a space governed by sacred time.
Because we experience the physical world with our senses it may seen more “real” to us. But the spiritual world is every bit as real, and impacts our lives just as much as the physical, indeed the two are connected. What happens in the physical world has ramifications in the spiritual world, and vice versa. But because we cannot see the spiritual world, we need a visible reference, a visible sign that connects to the invisible reality, the vestibule fulfills that function.
The Sacred Border
The same applies to sacred art. All sacred art should have a border or a frame of some type, something that defines the space.
Sacred art draws us out of the secular and into the sacred. It invites to look even beyond the image to the Truth and the source of all that is Good and True and Beautiful. Contemplating a work of sacred art is a journey in itself. We cross over from one world to the next. To do this, we need a threshold, a border that marks the division between one world and the other.
All sacred art, that is art that is meant for liturgical spaces, churches, cathedrals, oratories, and such, as well as liturgical books, missals, lectionaries, should have a proper border. Many traditional icons have a raised border or even a simple red line defining the inner sacred space the image resides in. Gothic art makes use of a variety of borders from simple lines, to geometric shapes, to elaborate floriated decorations. Even
Baroque art is only truly complete within a border, either a physical frame or a painted outer decoration.
The border around sacred art serves the same function as the church vestibule. It alerts us that we are crossing over into something special, something sacred. Chronological time takes a holiday and as we enter into a deep contemplation of the image before us. Every piece of sacred art invites to enter into a spiritual journey, crossing a threshold to discover the unknown, and finding God in the Truth that the image reveals.
Pax vobiscum