Heidegger’s Temple Passage

Heidegger’s temple passage, found in The Origin of the Work of Art, was a subject I found particularly interesting. He writes that the temple, which conceals the figure of the god, portrays nothing. Rather, it simply stands where it was erected in the rock-cleft valley. What struck me about this passage was how much the temple, though it remains unmoving and unchanging, reveals to man. He writes that the lustre and gleam of the cut stone makes man aware of the brightness of day; the steadfastness of the structure makes known the rhythm of the ebb and flow of the tides. The temple’s towering height draws the viewer’s attention to the vast expanse of sky that had previously gone unnoticed. My favorite illustration was that of the solemn stillness of the temple in contrast to a raging storm; the unmoving temple makes manifest the ever-changing nature and violence of the storm. By means of the temple the earth comes forth as native ground and man forms his view and understanding of himself and the world around him. I think what appeals to me so much about the temple passage is how concrete a concept it is. The revelatory nature of the temple is such that the world is made manifest, unfolding around it. The temple, as a sort of focal point, provides man with cosmos, or ordered reality, which orients him to his environment and the world in which he lives. Where before there was only chaos and disorder, there is now order and understanding.