This sermon may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

Above: Cretan and Hopi Labyrinth, Below: Chartres Cathedral Labyrinth

L’chi Lach to a land that I will show you.

Lech li'-cha to a place you do not know.

L’chi Lach on your journey I will bless you.

And you shall be a blessing, and you shall be a blessing, and you shall be a blessing.

L’chi Lach.

L’chi Lach, and I shall make your name great.

Lech li'-cha, and I shall praise your name.

L’chi Lach, to the place that I will show you.

L’sim chat hi-yim, l’simchat hi-yim, l’simat hi-yi m, L’chi Lach.

And you shall be a blessing, and you shall be a blessing, and you shall be a blessing,

L’chi Lach.

Come into this place of peace and let its peace heal your spirit;

Come into this place of memory and let its history warm your soul;

Come into this place of prophecy and power and let its vision change your heart. (429)

[Light chalice.]

May we be reminded here of our highest aspirations, and inspired to bring our gifts of love and service to the altar of humanity.

May we know once again that we are not isolated beings but connected, in mystery and miracle, to the universe, to the community and to each other. (434)

Take a shredded copy of this sermon, tangled chains or plastic wrap, or something similar and show it to the kids. Speak about untangling things and ask them for examples: 2 intertwined necklaces/dog tags, a plateful of spaghetti or noodles, a knot in your hair when you comb it out in the morning, a fishing line after its been caught in a tree, plastic wrap or scotch tape when it twisted and stuck on the dispenser, and so on. You spend time concentrating as you untaggle it. Do you feel better afterward? Tell the story of Skeleton Woman.

Skeleton Woman (abridged)

Father throws her into the sea. Fish eat her bones which twist around and get tangled in the sea. A fisherman snags her, thinks he’s hooked a big one until Skeleton Woman pops to the surface. He paddles for shore, she comes bobbing along. He gets to shore leaves his boat and runs but his foot is tangled in his fishing line and she comes bobbing along. Out of breath he gets to his house and slams the door and closes his eyes. But when he opens them, he sees this ugly, tangled mess – Skeleton Woman. Exhausted, he gives up. Over time he gets used to seeing her there, afterall he’s been living out on the ice for a long time and starts to feel pity and untangle the bones and set them in order. One by one. After a while she doesn’t look so bad and he starts to sing to her from his heart. As he does so, flesh and sinew, and muscle appears and she turns into a beautiful woman and Skeleton Woman becomes the fisherman’s wife … and they lived … [let the kid’s finish] Happily ever after. So you can see what happens when you take the time to untaggle something – even if it’s hard work and – whether it’s a chain, a plate of spaghetti, or a misunderstanding with a good friend – you find something wonderful. Thanks for listening and now, please untangle yourselves as you quietly head for your classes.

For full story see: Estés, pp. 132 - 134.

It is April 24th, and hopefully you have finished your taxes. While having my taxes done, I overheard this story:

The phone rings and a voice says: "Hello, is this Rabbi Schwartz?"

"Yes, it is," replied the rabbi.

"This is the IRS"

"Uh, what can I do for you?" asked the rabbi.

"Do you know a Sam Cohen?"

"I do."

"Is he a member of your congregation?"

"He is."

"Did he donate $10,000?" "Ah! he will." And in that spirit of selfless giving, we will now gratefully receive the offering.

The Lord said to Abraham, "Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.

[Ask congregation to think of an idea for themselves that is also an appropriate world goal – for example, peace, love, or compassion. Pick only one. Visualize that value or quality in each of the four quarters as well as above and below. Var. Then with your non-dominant hand think that word to yourself over and over as you trace your finger around one of the labyrinths in today’s bulletin.]

"… So Theseus moved cautiously on, coming now to a blank wall, now to a place with many turnings; and although he tried to keep his direction towards the middle, as true as he could, yet before long he really did not know which way he was going. Well was the place called a maze; it was enough to maze anyone. But at last he came to an open space, where he saw a black cave; and on the floor of the cave lay the monster like a strong giant with the head of a bull, and bull’s horns."

"Untangling Skeleton Woman begins to break the spell—that is, the fear that one will be consumed, made dead forever. Archetypally, to untangle something is to make a descent, to follow a labyrinth, to descend into the underworld or the place where things are revealed in an entirely new way, to be able to follow a convoluted process. In fairy tales, to loosen the girdle, undo the knot, untie, and untangle means to understand something, to understand its applications and uses, to become a mage, a knowing soul."

The growth and health of our culture, our family, our public lives and our innermost psyche can be described as a journey through a labyrinth – a twisted path with only one way to the center and only one way out again. Whether collective or individual, each is a journey into the unknown. Along the way, traditions of the past and new opportunities are explored, demons confronted, and core beliefs codified. And throughout the journey is an underlying, naging sense of the unknown. What will we find? Where are we going – and why? Is this journey worth it? What will people think? How will we know we’ve "arrived"? Will we fit in when we get there or will we recover our selves, our community, our heritage, only to discover that we no longer belong to it, no longer ascribe to its beliefs, no longer recognize ourselves? That by going inside we are now forever on the outside – whole at last, but now wholy alone. The fear of moving forward into the unknown paralizes individuals as well as nations. But the fear doesn’t have to hold us back: stepping into the unknown is part of a long tradition of mythic personal and communal journeys ranging from the Biblical Jews, to the Hopi of the American Southwest, and to our cultural ancestors the ancient Greeks. Each of these examples journeyed on a twisted path, extending across both space and generations. Each found their home and, like Abraham, returned with a blessing. By considering their stories in light of the symbolism of the labyrinth, we too can summon the courage needed to start our journeys or pick up the path again from where we left off.

In today’s Anthem and first reading, we heard the Genesis story of Abraham where God tells Abraham to "get up and go!" to a place that will be shown to him. So Abraham gathers his family and sets off on a journey that takes him from Ur to Canaan. This man – obeying a God that few at the time had heard about - packed up his whole family and left the familiar surroundings and support system of his father’s lands to go … well, he didn’t know where. How would one even start such a journey? What would you tell your family – those you will leave behind, and those who will journey with you? We don’t know what Abraham said to those around him, but we do know from the story, that his God told him that "[he] shall be a blessing". What does this mean – that a person will be a blessing? The Jewish Publication Society translation of this passage explains that Abraham‘s name will be "a standard by which blessings are invoked." We will come back to this idea, but for now let us remind ourselves that in the end, Abraham founded a large family as God promised and that he is the father of three faith traditions.

Now, many centuries later and an entire ocean away another peoples where told to get up and go!

After emerging from a destroyed world for the third time, Másaw, the guardian of the new World gave the Hopi people four sacred stone tablets. These tablets showed the migrations that each clan must make before they could settle into their permanent home lands. Each clan was to start in the North or the South and to wander until they met the ocean. Then they were to turn back to the center and set out again for the next cardinal direction, until once again they met either the ocean or the Arctic ice. Some clans were to follow the direction of the sun, others the direction of the earth but all were to make four journeys. But not all clans who started the journey made four full migrations. Some clans forgot Másaw’s commands and settled in tropical climates where life was easy. Other clans returned to their home without completing their journeys and so lost their religious power and standing. Their clan blessing was lost. Yet, as Frank Waters wrote: "Still others persisted... These were the ones who finally realized the purpose and the meaning of their four migrations.

For these migrations were themselves purification ceremonies, weeding out through generations all the latent evil brought from the previous Third World. Man could not succomb to the comfort and luxury given him by indulgent surroundings, for then he lost the need to rely on the Creator. Nor should he be frightened even by the polar extremities of the earth, for there he learned that the power given him by the Creator would still sustain him." Waters:pp. 35-36.

Once again what was it like being asked to wander to the far ends of the continent, to stop awhile – perhaps even get comfortable, learn how to live off the gifts of a certain area and climate, and then pack up your entire clan and move on, staring all over again. The amazing thing is that in both the stories of Abraham and the Hopi – individuals, clans, and nations allowed themselves to be led to an unknown destination and had the faith to persist across generations, because those who start the journey aren’t the ones who end up in the final location. And yet, in spite of all of these realities, they go on the journey anyway. Now, the Hopi have several symbols of their migrations and two are of particular interest – one square and one round -- they are the same symbols found in Europe as the Minoan labyrinth in the Greek story of Theseus and the Monataur. Called by the Hopi Ta’pu’at or mother and child, they symbolize emergence, showing both the stages of life of the unborn child and the child, as well as a spiritual rebirth from one world to another. A in ll surrounded by the loving arms of the labyrinth.

The Minoan Labyrinth dating to at least 2000 B.C.E. – is also a symbol of a journey. In Greek tradition, the labyrinth at Knossus, housed the fearsome Minotaur -- half-human, half-bull. Each year 7 Athenian boys and girls where led to their deaths in the maze. One year, Theseus decided to join the victims and stop the sacrifice.

Daedalus designed the labyrinth so that no one could ever find their way out – not even the architect himself. But Daedalus knew how to navigate the labyrinth and he shared the secret at the prompting of Ariadne who had fallen in love with Theseus. Theseus took a ball of red thread with him into the labyrinth. Now, red thread in many cultures represents life – the thread that the three Fates spin for each of us is just one example. So Theseus unwound his ball of thread as he made his way through the maze until he finally discovered the sleeping monster whom he killed.

If we look now at this story as a symbol of our personal journeys -- of journeys to our core selves then of course, there has to be a way out – and that is to go in – with our thread or life in hand and -- however tenuously held one. If you dare to start the journey into the unknown, to meet the monsters within, then you have what you need to find your way out. To have and to be a blessing.

When the Lord said to Abraham, "Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house .." God was asking Abraham to leave behind all that he knew, all that he had been taught by his parents, to leave the comfortable, and the familiar, and to go into the unknown. To be fully balanced, mature humans, we too must leave behind our societal and familial norms, what we’ve been taught and what we’ve inherited – consciously and unconsciously, and go on a journey to learn what rings true for us, for our inner being. On the way, we may meet the Minotaur of our own fears, failings, desires, and wounds, but we will succeed. Our path is before us, the steps are clear even as our feet hesitate. But, come, follow me into the Labyrinth for ‘though our journeys are individual, the journey itself is shared by all of humanity.

Labyrinth symbols like you see on today’s Order of Service are found every where in the world. The famous labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in contrast to those of the Hopi and Minoans is centered on a cross, and while it goes through the quandrants as well, it does so by meandering toward and away from the center.

Before continuing, it is important to note the differences between a maze and a labyrinth: A maze has many junctures where you must make a decision. Junctures can lead you to the center, to a deadend, or around in circles. The walls of a maze are high and you cannot see where you are going, nor where the next junction is. Because you must decide what path to take, walking a maze uses your logical, problem solving mind. By contrast, a labyrinth has one way in and one way out. There is only one path and there are no deadends or blind alleys. The only choice to make is to start the journey. As you walk a labyrinth, even as the path twists and turns back on itself, you can see the center at all times – the goal of the journey. Because the path is assured, walking a labyrinth engages the symbolic mind rather than the logical mind. Because we rarely use our symbolic mind in modern society, the symbol of the labyrinth has much to teach us.

If you follow the outline of the Chartres Labyrinth with a pencil or with your fingertip, you will find that some paths are short, while others seem to go on endlessly before changing their direction. In fact, you may find that the repetitiousness and seemingly endless journey around the labyrinth reminds you a lot of your life. Edna St. Vincent Millay was once quoted as saying: "It’s not true that life is one damn thing after another, it’s one damn thing over and over." [Quoted in Dean, October 11. ] Ever feel that way? We repeat the things that wound us until we heal the source. Perhaps you are failiar with an "Autobiography in Five Parts" by Penelope Nelson?

There’s a similar story to this that I want to share with you. It goes something like this: I'm walking down the street, there’s a big hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. A person comes along and drops a piece of paper down explaining how to get out, but it was in Spanish and I can’t read it. Another person comes along and drops a ladder down the hole, but the ladder’s too short and I can’t climb out. A third person comes along and jumps down with me. I yell at him: "What did you do that for?! Now we are both stuck here!" The third person says, "Yes, but I’ve been here before and I know the way out." Like the architect Daedalus, the third person has brought along his ball of red thread to share with us. We have an opportunity -- perhaps even an obligation -- to give back to others what we have learned. The trip back from the center of your personal labyrinth is where you take what you’ve learned and you share it to help others. You get and give a blessing. Perhaps that’s why it’s called the "return" trip? In this way -- like Abraham, the Hopi, and Theseus -- we can help individuals, families, clans, and entire nations find their way – find their own blessings. But like these three examples, we must also be prepared for the realization that we may not be present at the final destination. We may not live long enough to see it, but we can still play an important part in the journey. So, how can we enter our personal labyrinth in these modern times?

In Women Who Run With the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes tells a version of the Ugly Ducking story which she subtitles: "Belonging as Blessing". She calls this story "… a psychological and spiritual root story. … one that contains a truth so fundamental to human development that without integration of this fact, further progression is shaky, and one cannot entirely prosper psychologically until this point is realized." [p. 165]. And that point is that by being fully yourself – even though it sets you apart from others and the norm, you bless yourself and those around you.

So, short of a lifetime of expensive therapy (which I certainly endorse as well) how can we safely get to our center so that we can return blessed and with a blessing? And perhaps, if we are lucky, to influence generations to come. Here are some ideas culled from various sources.

First you can walk a labyrinth and experience using the symbolic mind firsthand. There are several in the area or you can construct your own with the aid of readily available books on the subject. You can even find miniature labyrinths in stores or on the Web that you can trace with your finger. In addition to engaging the symbolic mind, walking is exercise that involves our bodies.

As Scott W. Alexander writes in Everyday Spiritual Practice: Simple Pathways for Enriching Your Life, "The spiritual aspects of exercise are twofold. First, exercise has meditative and reflective dimensions. Many who exercise regularly report that their physical discipline helps them to achieve the state of mindful and meditative peace and calm. If I relax while running -- focus my mind on the regular rhythms of both my breathing and body movements, and let go of the distractions and complexities of my day -- I often move into a spiritual state of being fully alive to the rich miracle of life both within and around me.

Second, I believed that the regular practice of physical exercise is crucial for establishing an overall spiritual "right relation" with myself, my world, and other human beings who share it with me. I believe that if I care for the body that houses and holds me, I will be more inclined and more able to care for other lives around me....

Any form of regular, vigorous exercise that you both enjoy and are physically capable of doing ... can be a discipline of spiritual self-care that naturally leads to spiritual other-care, and thus right relation with all you encounter and touch." Alexander, page 132.

So, what if you are a confirmed couch potato and just thinking about exercise makes you sweat? Reverend Dr. Artress, an authority on labyrinths, has a suggestion for you. She writes: "Dreams, myths, stories, and insight through the imagination need to come into the mainstream of our personal and collective awareness. They are avenues of inspiration and action for the transformation to occur. Even when dreams may serve as a way to discover revelations in sacred stories, we tend to dismiss their value. Our bodies are cut off from our minds, and our minds are cut off from our evolving consciousness. The vision of unity, the wholeness of creation, has been lost. To create and make new we need access to the field of collective imagination that speaks to us from a unifying Source. We need to communicate with the choreographer of creation to hasten personal integration and spark collective vision. We need to find our field of dreams." Artress, pp.90-92 If this speaks to you, keep a notebook by your bedside. When you wake up in the morning jot down any dreams that you remember. Over time you may be surprised at what you learn about yourself. If you typically don't remember your dreams, give yourself a suggestion before going to bed that you will remember your dreams. If you find that you are still out of luck, then I suggest that you look at collective and cultural dreams -- at mythology. Works by Joseph Campbell and Clarissa Pinkola Estes are familiar and readily available.

Another technique of journeying, is to name and acknowledge our struggles -- the twists and turns of our lives that make us who we are. "Jungian analyst Ira Progoff suggests a way of working with our life history to gain a deeper sense of who we are. ‘Under the pressure of events,’ he writes, ' our lives become hard packed like soil that has not pause tilled for many years. One experience is added to another so rapidly that … we do not have time … to establish an inner relationship to them. But, he suggests, [pause] imaginatively reexperiencing the ‘steppingstones’ of our past can loosen the soil of our lives so that new insights can emerge and nurture our tender shoots of new possibilities." (Being and Caring. pp. 22-23.) This can be done through working with a therapist or trusted support group or through personal rituals that help us unravel and safely process the "packed soil" of our experiences. Clarissa Pinkola Estes suggests one such ritual called descansos that she has based on a Mexican and Mediterranean tradition now commonly seen in the U.S. as roadside crosses at the sight of an accident. While she suggests descansos as a way to deal with unresolved rage, this technique can be used to unpack life's losses, twists and turns, disappointments, and unexpected events.

The ritual is this: create a timeline on a piece of paper starting with your birth, and ending with the present. Think back over your life, and place a cross or an X on a spot on your timeline where you experienced a time of significant challenge or struggle. You might want to note above or below the event the date or your age and whether the event has been forgiven or resolved, or if it is still with you. Once done, take a look at your timeline and reflect upon it. Sit with it. Although you may experience some sadness, the point of this exercise is to honor and acknowledge all that you have been through, all that you have survived. Each X is a "resting place", a place for care and support. If you wish, you can design a ritual to put these challenges and struggles to rest. Once laid to rest, you can continue on your journey with a more integrated sense of who you are and where you've been.

By being present every moment and by trying some of the techniques mentioned in this sermon, we may learn as Artress writes that " [we] are not human beings on a spiritual path but spiritual beings on a human path." Artress, Page 21. A journey that is shared by individuals, families, communities, and nations, and extends across generations. So set aside your fears, doubts, and questions. Live the life you were meant to live – not only for your own good, but for the good of all. As God commands, as life demands: L'chi lach Go! Get you gone! Amen.

For all who see God, may God go with you.

For all who embrace life, may life return your affection.

For all who seek a right path, may a way be found …

And the courage to take it, step by step.

May you go in peace, May you live in peace, May you return in peace, as together we say "Amen".

Alexander , Scott W. , editor, Everyday Spiritual Practice: Simple Pathways for Enriching Your Life, Boston: Skinner House Books, 1999.

Artress, Lauren, Walking a Sacred Path: Rediscovering the Labyrinth as a Spiritual Tool, New York: Riverhead Books, 1995.

Daniels, Victor and Horowitz, Laurence J., Being and Caring: A Psychology for Living, Second Edition, Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press, Inc., 1984

Dean, Amy E., Facing Life’s Challenges: Daily Meditations For Overcoming, Depression, Grief, and "The Blues", Carson, CA: Hay House Inc., 1995.

Estés, Clarissa Pinkola, Women Who Run With The Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype, New York: Ballantine Books, 1992.

Hahn, Thich Nhat, Living Buddha, Living Christ, New York: Riverhead Books, 1995.

Rouse, W.H.D., Gods, Heroes and Men of Ancient Greece, New York: Signet, 1957, "Theseus and the Minotaur", pp.117-123.

Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures, the New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text., Philadelphia, Jerusalem: The Jewish Publication Society, 1985.

Waters, Frank. Book of the Hopi, New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

West, Mellissa Gayle, Exploring the Labyrinth: A Guide for Healing and Spiritual Growth, New York: Broadway Books, 2000.

Part I. I'm walking down the street, there's a big hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I don't know how I got here, but it's not my fault. It takes forever to get out.
Part II. I'm walking down the street, there's a big hole in the sidewalk. I fall in again. I still don't know how I got here and maybe it's my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
Part III. I'm walking down the street, there's a big hole in the sidewalk. I fall in again. I recognize where I am and how I got here. It is my fault. I climb right out.
Part IV. I'm walking down the street, there's a big hole in the sidewalk. I walk around the hole.
Part V. I walk down another street.