The Church of Reconciliation in San Antonio has
a labyrinth modeled after the classic labyrinth at
Chartres. I've walked it three times and find it to be a very meaningful and
prayerful experience. You can read about labyrinths and prayer
here. One Sunday five or six people from
our church went to walk the labyrinth. That sparked some conversation about
building a labyrinth of our own at the back of our property. I think that will
happen, but we never hurry at Covenant Baptist Church. It will happen when it
happens.
Here is a picture of the labyrinth at
Reconciliation:
The labyrinth at The Church of Reconciliation
is painted on canvass. It comes apart in four pieces, each of which is kept in a
duffel bag. Recently someone broke into the parish hall and stole one of the
duffel bags. I'm not sure what the thief thought he was getting, but I bet he
wasn't expecting a fourth of a medieval labyrinth. Some of us were talking last
night at our church about labyrinths, the theft at Reconciliation, and whether
or not we will ever construct a labyrinth at our church. This apparently set off
a spark in Paul's mind, because
yesterday's Lenten watercolor reflects the
conversation. The cactus in the painting is because the place on our property
where we would build a labyrinth is currently covered with prickly pear cactus.
We'll have to do something about that. I don't want prayerful pilgrims visiting
our church and getting the idea that if you make a wrong turn praying you might
get a painful jab.
Anyway the theft has, of course, caused some
difficulty in walking the labyrinth at Reconciliation. I say difficulty, but
what I mean is that you can't walk it at all.
Or can you?
By my calculations, three quarters of a
labyrinth looks like this:
There are many lessons drawn from a prayerful
walk of a circular labyrinth. You really don't know where you will go when you
round a corner, and you have no idea when you will arrive in the center. It sort
of forces you to focus on the journey. But what if you walked three quarters of
a labyrinth? I guess when you popped out into the open space, you could resume
your journey at any path opening that seemed right to you.
This would mean that you might find a shortcut
and get to the center quickly, or you might never arrive at all and spend an
entire afternoon endlessly circling. Who knows what would happen.
In my experience, that's a pretty good
description of praying. You pray. You don't know why, exactly. You're hoping
some things, I guess. You don't know if praying will be a journey with any end
at all. I know people who have prayed for things their entire lives. Or who
knows, you might get a miracle right away. I don't know about this stuff. It
makes me nervous making claims about prayer one way or another.
Hey, if anyone from the Church of
Reconciliation reads this, I wonder if you guys would consider letting me walk
three quarters of a labyrinth. I think I'd like to give that a try.
rlp
