Monday, November 09, 2009

Labyrinth

Walking to the center of a labyrinth as a physical act of centering prayer is a powerful experience. Like sitting quietly and meditating, walking the labyrinth is not without its distractions, especially when walking in a group. It takes some work to stay in a prayerful frame of mind.

We have a canvas labyrinth at St. Anne's. It gets rolled out fairly often for use by the congregation. Because it's portable, we've also carried it to Shrine Mont for use in retreat activities. I've been to a labyrinth walk at the National Cathedral and now, Shrine Mont has its own outdoor labyrinth made of stones.

Most often, my labyrinth walking has been quiet. Starting with a deep breath, I've plunged in. Step by step, cares of the day fall away. Step by step, the pilgrimage proceeds. Step by step, I approach the center.

A year ago I walked the candle-lit labyrinth while a friend came to the end of her fight with lung cancer. I stepped into the center and realized that I had carried my friend with me. While standing in that spot closest to God, I knew that God was waiting for me to hand over my worries. My friend was a faithful Catholic, she knew God's strength and support in her life. Who was I to worry? God held us both, I needed to let go. I walked out of the labyrinth, leaving that burden of worry behind.

Almost exactly a year later I entered the stone labyrinth in the woods. A few of us had found our way there after the Sunday service. The words of the final hymn were in my mind as I walked the leaf-strewn pathway, "I will call upon the Lord... who is worthy to be praised." The sky was clear, birds were chirping, a few bright red leaves clung to a tree. "So shall I be saved from my enemies... I will call upon the Lord." I almost tromped through the labyrinth as I sang in my head, "The Lord liveth... and blessed be the rock... and let the God of my salvation be exalted..." I heard my friend coming up beside me. She said, "I've decided to greet people on my journey." We hugged, knowing we both had the recent funeral of a young teacher in mind.

The labyrinth as shared journey. Sing it together, "The Lord liveth, and blessed be the rock."

1 comment:

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.