A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a friend about spiritual aesthetics that got me thinking about how space, atmosphere and visual cues shape our spiritual life.
This isn’t a new idea. In our Tuesday Church conversations, we’ve recently discussed the design of spaces in which humans throughout time have gathered — the places we‘ve held sacred. From ancient tabernacles to temples, church sanctuaries and campgrounds. Sacred spaces have always helped us step away from the noise of everyday life into something calmer, more reflective. They are invitations- places to remember who we are and reconnect with what matters.
Many of us no longer have regular access to traditional church sanctuaries. For those of us creating a spiritual life within busy households, the idea of a dedicated sacred space, however small or simple, may seem indulgent. However, it can be extremely helpful for maintaining everyday spiritual practices. This is when I began dreaming of my very own church room in my home.
Before I allowed myself to be caught up in the aesthetics, I asked myself:
What’s actually helping me show up in my faith right now?
For me, it’s things like:
My phone and headphones, playing hymns or podcasts while driving and doing housework
My laptop for connecting with my faith community, like Tuesday Church and Prayer Circles
My digital journal, where I write down my prayers to reread months later and reflect on how the Spirit and I responded
Connections to nature, my garden
These tools are my anchors, helping me practise spirituality during the season of life I am in. However practical these tools may be, I recognise that they aren’t aesthetically pleasing or awe-inspiring.
I believe in the power of beauty. Not for show, but as reminders and visual cues. A candle. An old book. A piece of art. A symbol that says: pause, breathe, there is more to life than haste. Speak to me, listen to me.
My dream church room wouldn’t need to be large, just open and uncluttered. It would have a desk with my computer, a comfortable reading chair and a window overlooking the garden. There’d be soft lighting, a few candles, space for stretching, and meaningful artwork on the walls, indoor plants and an old antique bookcase filled with my outdated Herald House books. These books stir my imagination. They help to provide a glimpse into a journey I wasn’t part of, but one that brought us to where we are now. And somehow, they make me feel more hopeful and excited about helping shape what comes next.
So, here is my invitation:
If you had a church room in your home, a space just for you to connect with God, what would you place in it? What tools, objects, or atmosphere would help you feel more grounded, aware and connected?
Be honest. Get creative. We don’t need to build a cathedral in our house, just a space that helps remember what matters.
Emma Ghazarian