If these walls could sing...

In my previous post, I discussed the game of Go. The maze-like iterations of a game-in-progress (below) reminded me of a question I have been thinking about:

When you get to the place you are going, what then?

This is a very human question.

There are a number of writers who have remarked that the journey is the most valuable part of going from points A to B, not the arriving.

There is a problem then, posed to the architects of sacred spaces, which are arrival points in religious life: how do you make them valuable? How do you make them places where meaning can be found?

Is there merit in making a sacred space that is more like a journey than a destination?

Glazed and painted ceramic on plaster in the Imami Madrasa, Isafan, Iran 

In Islamic architecture, geometric shapes and mazes abound. They are symbolic of the eternal and of the position of the Muslim (one who submits) as one who is lost (read: held) in the endless, unfathomable eternity of the One who created the universe, by that merciful One (Ar-Rahman). In the picture above, you have to stop and look up to see it -- staring at the ceiling of your destination, the mosque, you are reminded that your journey of faith continues.

Examples of Islamic calligraphy throughout the Muslim world -- found on walls, entryways, ceilings, etc -- serve as signposts on the road to the divine, beacons pointing the soul toward God via the sacred text of the Qur'an, considered to be God's own speech. These are not only signs along the journey, but also listening posts. The calligraphy of the Qur'an in its multidimensional form is also a beautiful chant when recited by a human voice. It's neat to think of these as walls that are meant to be sung.  

Qutb Minar, Dehli, India

In Christian architecture, labyrinths in Gothic churches offered medieval devotees the opportunity to undergo a spiritual journey in miniature. Divided into four quadrants symbolic of the universe and/or the cross, labyrinths have serpentine paths leading toward a center point representing God, faith, and/or forgiveness. The devotee could spend as much time wandering in the labyrinth as desired until reaching the arrival point in the center. This labyrinth has been in Chartres Cathedral since around 1200CE: 

What seems to be the message from these examples is that within these traditions, discovering that one is lost in the maze of this universe is the exact moment when one is no longer irretrievably lost, but is on the correct path toward the divine. According to the Tao Te Ching, the divine is the path, the Tao, the way of things. 

I'm interested in finding additional examples of "journeys" inside of sacred spaces, so if you have one, please share.

A lot can be said about a water fountain.

There are some incredibly beautiful drinking fountains and reflection pools in Islamic architecture. But what I like to ask students is..... so what??

Water is not just water in the Islamic world, it connects humans to the primordial beginnings of mankind, and brings humans into an intimate relationship with God. Sure, water is important in most belief systems for ritual, but water in abundance and active is characteristically Islamic. Water is de-ritualized in a sense in these spaces because it is a feature of the architectural environment. For example, no religious professional guards the rights to the water, and unlike "holy water" in other faith traditions, it doesn't have supernatural powers. According to Muslim sacred history,

Innallaha ta'ala khalaqa kulla shay’im minal-ma’.

“Allah created everything from water.” (Related by Ibn Hibban.)

The Prophet Muhammad, through his revelation, said that water, not light, was the first thing God created. And why did God start with water? Because it was necessary for all living things? To refresh? Interesting question for discussion. Water was important in central Arabia during the time of the Prophet (and still today), being a desert land where water is scarce. That God would be so closely associated with water tells us something about Islam's view of God -- as providing rest, comfort, rejuvenation... as does the oasis for the bedouins in the desert.

But there is also something symbolic about the eternal in water. I should clarify: in Islam, water isn't eternal; only God is eternal. But that water was created first makes it the closest to eternity of anything in creation. In its liquid and gaseous states, water doesn't really have a beginning or end. This quality of water reminds me of the poem by Jewish poet Yehuda Amichai, "The waters cannot return in repentance"

The waters cannot return in repentance

To where would they return?

To the faucet, the sources, the ground, the roots,

the cloud, the sea, into my mouth?

The waters cannot return in repentance,

every place is their seas/days of old, their waters of old,

every place a beginning and end, and a beginning.

On the social level, drinking fountains also symbolize egalitarianism -- they are communal places where anyone can come to drink, regardless of age, gender, class, etc., again calling to mind the unity, or oneness of God.

It's neat how something so mundane as a water fountain can be imbued with the sacred -- but in Islam, that is exactly the point. :)