Writings On Gates And Passageways

This page will feature monthly articles on gates and passageways.  It will be a way of exploring, in greater depth, the importance of these points of transition. There will be articles on the history, philosophy and the spiritual significance of gateways and doorways.  Writings may also focus on the many types of passageways in people lives and how we celebrate these in art and architecture.

Gates and Passageways: The Power of the Threshold

Gates and doors, entryways and passageways of all kinds have significance both architecturally and spiritually. Why is this so? The answer lies in an exploration of the threshold and the human desire to mark such an important transition place with a work that is unique and beautiful. Gates mark the transition from the outside world to the inner world of the home. Or, they may mark the entrance to a favourite place in the garden. In sacred architecture gates are often an important stopping point. A place to reflect and honour the entrance into a place of worship. Sometimes a sacred building will have several gateways to reflect an understanding of the different stages of spiritual enlightenment.

To truly understand the significance of the entryway it is helpful to place gates in a larger context. Rather than simply ask the question; why build a beautiful gate, perhaps first we should explore why do we build beautiful buildings at all? Why have religious organizations in every culture placed an emphasis on sacred architecture? What is it about looking at a work of art that brings us happiness?

Alain de Botton in his book The Architecture of Happiness explores the human psyche to determine why we are drawn to beautiful art and architecture and what it is about these objects that satisfy us in such a deep way. He states; "We value certain buildings for their ability to rebalance our misshapen natures and encourage emotions which our predominant commitments force us to sacrifice. Feelings of competitiveness envy and aggression hardly need elaboration, but feelings of humility amid an immense and sublime universe, of a desire for calm at the onset of evening or of an aspiration for gravity and kindness - these form no correspondingly reliable part of our inner landscape, a rueful absence which may explain our wish to bind such emotions to the fabric of our homes".

Although our environment does not determine our identity, it can certainly help to shape it. The world’s greatest religions have placed a great deal of emphasis on the role of architecture in determining our identity and thus our behaviour. While a sacred building does not guarantee spiritual enlightenment, its symbolic construction can remind us of the values we hold dear. Alain de Botton asserts that buildings such as churches, mosques and synagogues have the effect of affirming sacred values. "In danger of being corrupted by our passions and led astray by the commerce and chatter of our societies, we require places where the values outside of us encourage and enforce the aspirations within us. We my be nearer or farther from God on account of what is represented on the walls or ceilings. We need panels of gold and lapis, windows of coloured glass and gardens of immaculately raked gravel in order to stay true to the sincerest parts of ourselves."

Gateways, doorways and thresholds mark the transition from one state of being to another. The act of entering through a gate is the physical manifestation of this process. Describing how good architecture and attention to detail can encourage certain feelings, de Botton states; "When we approach front doors, we appreciate those that have a small threshold in front of them, a piece of railing, a canopy or a simple line of flowers or stones, features that help us to mark the transition between public and private space and appease the anxiety of entering or leaving a house".

Thresholds take on even greater significance in sacred architecture. Crossing them can symbolize an important transition from the secular world to a spiritual space. In their book Sacred Architecture, Caroline Humphrey and Piers Vitebsky give examples of this; "Gateways make the most elaborate and explicit statements about controlling who may or may not enter a sacred space. From the Christian cathedral door on which the archbishop must knock, to the house of the Indian Sora people where the shaman's assistants break down the door to bring in an ancestral name for the baby, to the gates of the monasteries of Mount Athos which are barricaded from dusk until dawn, gateways control the identity and the timing of those who would enter".

The degree to which this carries over to the home varies greatly in different parts of the world. In western secular society most of what would be deemed sacred architecture would be found in religious buildings such as mosques, synagogues or churches. Here, it would be assumed that the design and decorations would have symbolic spiritual meanings that we would not expect to find in our homes. However, in many traditional cultures the distinction between secular and sacred is blurred or non-existent. Humphrey and Vitebsky explain that in many parts of the world your dwelling is a visible manifestation of the right way to live your life and its construction and design may symbolize sacred values. For example; "In Southeast Asia the house is held to be "alive". In part this arises from the prescience of a vital force suffusing everything: trees are thought to have their own wild power which must be domesticated when they are felled for house timbers".

In India you will often find a picture of the elephant headed Ganesh, the Hindu God of Thresholds, placed in doorways. In Central Nepal spikes are driven into the windows and threshold to keep out witches and in some Arab areas a long stone forms an upward step marking the hierarchy between inner and outer space. Passing through gateways such as these is meant to be a conscious act of transition. A way of denoting the movement from one space to another. They become passageways in the sense that the most important thing about these gates is the movement through them. Just how this importance is denoted varies from culture to culture. What the builders of passageways have in common, however, is their attention to the meaning or symbolic nature of the gate. It should act as a reminder of important values and symbolize the significance of the space we are leaving or entering.

Alain de Botton in The Architecture of Happiness talks about the communicative power of objects. He feels that objects and buildings communicate meaning that they speak to us in a variety of ways; "The buildings that we admire are ultimately those which, in a variety of ways, extol values we think worthwhile...We seek associations of peace in our bedrooms, metaphors for generosity and harmony in our chairs, an air of honesty and forthrightness in our taps. We can be moved by a column that meets a roof with grace, by worn stone steps that hint at wisdom and by a Georgian doorway that demonstrates playfulness and courtesy in its fanlight windows"

So what do we look for in our gates? How do they come to feel like passageways? Different religions construct gateways and build distinct passageways to symbolize the stories and values that they hold dear. Two examples it might be helpful to look at are the Torii gate which is found in front of Shinto shrines and the Lych gate which is found in the entrance to English churches. In their design, the two gates could not be more different. A Torii gate is quite simple and consists of two upright supports and two cross beams. It is placed directly in front of the shrine and is said to mark the boundary between the finite world (composed of boundaries, ending in death) and the infinite world that is limitless.

Lych gates originated in front of churches in England although some have been built in North America. They are much more elaborate consisting of four to six upright wooden posts. These hold up beams which support a pitched roof which is often thatched. However, the symbolic nature of this gate is quite similar to that of the Torii gate. Lych is an old English word for corpse. Lych gates original purpose was a place to lay the corpse during the funeral service. Then, too these gates mark a transition point, in this case quite literally, from life to death.

These are just two examples of the power of gates. Some religions create series of gates or passageways to denote the different stages of spiritual development or progress as one enters through sacred buildings. The Minakshi Temple in Madurai, India has nine magnificent tower gateways called gopuram. As pilgrims progress through the passages, they stop to make offerings to Hindu deities and cleanse themselves in the Golden Lotus tank. Sometimes passageways are created inside the structure itself. This is the case in many Christian churches where the church building embodies the spiritual path of the believer. This is evident in the nave, the path to the alter, which represents a journey from the less sacred space at the west end of the church to the alter at the east. Lines of pillars on either side evoke the sense of a path and the very shape of the nave seems to draw the devotee forward.

The enduring power of passageways can be found even in ancient ruins. Even where very little of the structure is left standing, the gateway in these Persian ruins speaks volumes of the importance of this structure. The power of this entryway endures over time and deterioration.

Any gate can be a passageway if its purpose is imbued with meaning. To do this, the creator must pay attention to detail with an eye to creating an object that is both beautiful and functional. Ideally parts of it should speak to those entering it of values that they hold dear. Whether this forms a part of a religious path or a way into the home or garden, any gate, no matter how simple can speak volumes. What it says might vary but the fact that it speaks is what these passageways hold in common. Whether marking the transition from life to death or from office to home, these gates will create a pause, a moment of reflection, which makes passing through a significant act. Top of page