While the Bicycling with the Saints and Sinners ride ended in Tours, France, a tad more abruptly than planned, the labyrinth in the Chartres Cathedral captured my energy. Following a minor bicycle accident that limited my riding, my friend Loren and I rented a vehicle and drove a couple of hours north to Chartres.

I had long been attracted to the labyrinth in the Chartres Cathedral, so I fully embraced this opportunity. Something about the symbolism, with its mandala-like appearance, beckons.

The labyrinth is one of human culture's most ancient and widespread symbols. Designs dating back to the Neolithic period have been discovered in various parts of the world, from prehistoric rock carvings and cave paintings to intricate patterns on the floors of medieval cathedrals. The labyrinth is a winding path toward some center of hope and wholeness and, I suggest, a hint of the sacred spans all religions and cultures.

Some people can intentionally walk the whole labyrinth slowly and meditatively. Others battle the urge to treat the experience like a race car driver having just sipped the last few drops of an afternoon espresso. Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz Weber says she sometimes gets road rage in a labyrinth as she wants to rush through the maze. I fall somewhere in the middle, the muddled middle. I’m in a hurry to slow down.

Chartres was relatively open on the day we visited. We were early enough to avoid the tour buses that would arrive in the afternoon. In delightful English with a strong French accent, the guide at the entrance to the labyrinth explained there are no right or wrong ways to proceed, and if you wish to pass someone moving slower than you, you may do so. She concluded by asking that once you arrive at the center, you may take some time, but be mindful that there are others behind you hoping to enter as well. "So take your time, but not too much time," she said.

I entered the path and noticed the twists and turns, and the many people around me were also encountering twists and turns. The metaphor was clear to me. This labyrinth is our path in life. Initially, the path takes an almost direct approach toward the center but then veers off, even in the opposite direction. Back and forth, closer and farther, the journey unfolds. Around me, people from every part of the globe walked their path, yet we were on the same path.

What is a labyrinth?

The first known labyrinths seem to date back to Pliny the Elder, who mentions them in his writings. The symbol appears on coins around 400 BCE. The maze features prominently in Greek mythology. The first known labyrinth in the early church seems to have been installed in North Africa at the entrance of San Reparatus, likely around the year 334 CE. Could it be that the labyrinth mirrored the arduous path of life in those times?

The symbol entered medieval manuscripts and architecture in France and Italy around the 11th century. The yellow and brown stones of the labyrinth in the Chartres Cathedral were laid on the floor early in the 13th century, occupying the nave's width. The form of a cross spans the labyrinth, and a flower with six petals appears in its center, creating a design of balance and harmony. Its geometric design has prompted many mathematical, architectural, and symbolic studies. The Cathedral intends to demonstrate (and experience) the intersection of the divine and human worlds. There is much that can be interpreted from the structure of this labyrinth, among them its 276 stones, which some interpret as a parallel to the nine months of human gestation.

Carl Jung was fascinated by the labyrinth, recognizing its profound psychological significance. He saw in its convoluted form a powerful representation of the circuitous path of Individuation – the lifelong process of psychic growth and self-realization. For Jung, navigating the labyrinth of the psyche, with its blind alleys and sudden turns, was an essential part of the quest for wholeness and meaning.

In his essay on the Structure of the Psyche, Jung remarks, "The psyche is a self-regulating system that maintains its equilibrium just as the body does. Every process that goes too far immediately and inevitably calls forth compensations, and without these there would be neither a normal metabolism nor a normal psyche. In this sense the psyche is a labyrinth, for the labyrinth is a paradoxical structure in which the way in is simultaneously the way out. Whoever travels the labyrinth must, therefore, constantly turn back and retrace his steps as though returning to the beginning."

Personally, I believe the connection between the labyrinth and Carl Jung's concept of the path of Individuation makes sense. I see a parallel in the lifelong path of discipleship in Christ's life and teachings. Both are different ways of expressing the pilgrimage from birth to death. We are talking about life and the patience, dedication, and faith needed to follow a path of ups and downs, twists and turns, all leading to a place of wisdom and the sacred.

The most prolific author on the modern resurgence of the labyrinth as a spiritual practice is Episcopal Priest Lauren Artress. In her book Walking a Sacred Path: Rediscovering the Labyrinth as a Spiritual Practice, Artress describes walking the labyrinth as a form of "body prayer" to engage the whole self in meditation. This may explain my attraction to walking prayer in a labyrinth or a wildlife refuge rather than sitting. The body's physical movement through the labyrinth's turns and counter-turns mirrors the soul's journey through the complexities of the inner world.

Joseph Henderson, writing about the labyrinth in the online ARAS center, reminds us that this body-prayer may have its roots in the form of feminine spirituality:

The design at Chartres embodies also a cross, and at the center of the labyrinth is a design suggesting the mystic rose, so that the sacred space embodies the way of Christ (the cross) and the compassion of Mary (the rose). At the same time, the labyrinth suggests that the inward path to the center exists as a parallel to the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the spiritual center of this and other biblical traditions.
Chartres was, above all, sacred to the Virgin Mary. In exploring this image, the viewer finds in the record bibliographical references to numerous works to be read for further amplification of the symbolism. Other references lead the viewer back to the earlier forms of the symbol. In this way, it becomes clear that the labyrinth expresses a fundamental experience of death and renewal through the healing power of the archetypal feminine.

What we’ve discovered here in the labyrinth is a symbol of something that resonates with the very soul of humanity. In various forms, the labyrinth conjures up a womb

Or perhaps even the galaxy

Is a labyrinth something so deeply ingrained in all of life that we can’t help but find it a powerful symbol?

But do I need to go to France to walk a labyrinth? No. Plenty of them are nearby, and you can find them on this website.

https://labyrinthlocator.org

More to come.

James Hazelwood is an author, photographer and speaker. His work centers around connecting the ordinary and everyday aspects of life with a spirituality that works for 21st century people. His website is www.jameshazelwood.net