Hallowed is an old-fashioned word that doesn’t get used very often these days. It shows up in the word Halloween (originally from Hallows Evening, the night before All Saints and All Souls Days), but in the modern context the word doesn’t carry the weight it used to. We occasionally remember it when talking about hallowed ground, and in that context it comes closer to its full meaning. Hallowed ground means someplace where something significant happened, such as an historic battle where many people died or occasionally a place associated with some honored past celebrity, such as how some people view Elvis Presley’s homestead. Hallowed.
Perhaps in a more formal time, and in cultures with an increased number of social niceties, there used to be more examples. I remember my grandmother’s china. She used it only for special events, such as Thanksgiving dinner. After my mother inherited it, she hallowed it by setting it aside and never using it. Then I inherited it. But I also inherited a culture that said “Use the good china!” And, I do. Perhaps it’s a little worse for the more frequent wear, and maybe this ultimately isn’t a good attitude, because a few pieces have been broken and some aren’t as shiny as they once were. They are no longer hallowed; they’ve become every-day dishes. I enjoy them, but I don’t venerate them.
But should some things be kept special?
In the context of tangible things, I don’t own anything that I revere. To be sure, I have a few special-occasion dresses. There’s the purple one I wore to my son’s wedding. There’s a black one that’s fairly plain but quite formal, and one that is cerulean blue with elaborate beads. A dearth of appropriate events keeps them in the closet most of the time. Yet, although the fabrics are elegant, I don’t consider them hallowed.
My closest candidate for a hallowed possession may be my collection of Christmas decorations. I have a few glass ornaments that belonged to my husband’s grandmother. We handle these with great care. I have precious stars made long ago by little fingers who pasted their smiling faces onto precut cardboard forms in a Sunday school class. Our tree features other mementoes in paper, including snowflakes, looped chains, and even a sign instructing Santa to leave gifts beneath the tree. There are three special bells made of Styrofoam, ribbon, and sequins. I made them myself when I was young. There are myriad other ornaments. Some are gifts that serve to remind me of the giver. Some are souvenirs that call distant places to mind every time I unpack them. These things are special in a sentimental way, and I drag them out for use only seasonally. But does this make them hallowed? Cherished, maybe, but hallowed seems too strong a word.
Hallowed becomes a difficult concept for my contemporary mind, because I have so few connections with it. It ought to encompass awe, wonder, and even a bit of fearful respect. I have to leave the world of things and step into the realm of events to find experiences that help me approach an understanding of what hallowed might actually mean.
One that comes to mind is a trip to Utah that included an off-road excursion to see some petroglyphs (ancient rock carvings). We rode all-terrain vehicles along an astoundingly beautiful trail that wound its way up into some really rocky country. This is where I should confess that I’m not overly fond of heights. Actually, the height itself isn’t the problem. My problem is more concerned with depths and my respect for — or rather, fear of — gravity. The trail narrowed, and the mountain’s edge crept ever closer to my tires. Finally, our guide directed our group to disembark and follow her. Doing as I was directed involved climbing over boulders up a steep stone path and then walking through a long, dark tunnel. We emerged suddenly into light on the thin lip of a vertical wall of rock. A magnificent valley stretched out about 2,000 feet below us. It was glorious. It was terrifying. I felt overwhelmed by something that was full of splendor, and yet I was petrified. These feelings contributed to the perception that I was in a sacred place, a holy place. Perhaps it was hallowed.
Encountering church architecture provides another example, although a controversial one. Churches used to be set aside as holy spaces. Generations of workmanship produced cathedrals with high vaulted ceilings and breathtaking stained glass windows. Altar decorations and utensils were made of precious metals, and church furniture was carved by skilled artisans. Admittedly, these niceties weren’t necessary to worship God, and today there seems to be more of a focus on spending the money in more pragmatic ways. But still, walking into an old cathedral is a humbling experience. Modern worship spaces can seem somewhat diminished. Where is it that we go and feel the need to take off our shoes because we’re standing in the presence of something very special? Or to be profoundly quiet because we’re on hallowed ground?
Some of the words that help us try to define what hallowed truly means, include consecrated, holy, and sanctified. These are not rare words, at least among people who frequent churches, but they are frequently used without any connection to exactly what they may mean. I’d like to try to help bring the concept of hallowed into focus by exploring the realms of these words.
Consecrate: According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), this word made its way into Middle English (a precursor to Modern English) around the time Chaucer was writing. It was formed from two roots meaning “with” and “sacred.” One of its early meanings included the legal implication of dedicating something (such as property for a church) to keep it set apart for religious purposes.
Consecrate is also the word used in ecclesiastical settings in which the bread and wine used in church services become sacramental (a sacrament is thought to be the physical, observable sign of grace received). Another use of the word invokes a special ritual by which someone is officially installed in an office of high honor, such as a king or queen or bishop.
Consecrate, therefore, means something along these lines: To dedicate something or someone in a special way for a special purpose in such a way that the action has legal force and resonates deeply with a fuller, metaphysical meaning. In other words, it means to make something sacred or holy. So, let’s look at “holy” next.
Holy: Again, using the OED as a source of information, this word can trace its roots back to Old English. It is related to the word hale, in the sense of without any injury (still surviving in the phrase “hale and hearty”). Because the word has such historically long roots, its exact development is debatable, but the OED editors feel that it may have originally carried the sense of “inviolable” (something that can’t be broken or infringed). On the other hand, it could have developed along a path that more closely relates to the word that became “health.”
As the use of the word holy in Christian settings developed, it came to mean something so pure and perfect and so awe-inspiring that it deserved reverence and honor. In short, holy describes something that is so wonderful it engenders worship. When holiness is ascribed to something, it is said to be sacred or sanctified.
Sacred and Sanctified: Sacred is something set apart because of its association with the divine, something worthy of veneration. And sanctified? To see in something, or to impart to it, a sense of divine purity. To make someone or something holy through the act of consecration. In other words, to hallow it.
We’ve now come full circle.
Hallow: To recognize something’s fundamental nature — its deep, primary elemental being — as inviolably pure and set apart because it is worthy of and elicits worship, love, reverence, and devotion.
Coming into an awareness of God’s presence elicits a response that acknowledges its hallowed nature. God isn’t a thing. He can’t get used up, be dented, or become less shiny. But human thoughts and perceptions can still be careless. Throughout history, people have treated God disrespectfully. This fact ought to make us cry out for God to be honored as holy, worshipped as sacred, and respected as worthy. Hallowed.