In Houston, labyrinths offer a path to peace
On a corner of Freedmen’s Town, on the holy ground where Mount Carmel Missionary Baptist Church once stood, are circles of crushed granite and worn brick. They spiral past four benches studded with colorful mosaics and into a rosette-shaped center where a stone reads: “To God be the glory.”
The historic church, long a mainstay in the community founded by freed slaves, crumbled into a pile of rubble more than a decade ago. Only remnants of the foundation and the old front steps remain.
But this is still a sacred space. A place for meditation and prayer, for solitary introspection and communal gatherings.
A labyrinth.
Drawing on an archetype that dates back thousands of years, labyrinths are attracting a new following in this era of technological noise. They offer a way to quiet the clatter of modern life, to turn our thoughts inward. The twists and turns, which at times seem to lead away when the destination is closest, mirror the passage through life.
“At some point in every single labyrinth, you feel like you are lost,” said Sarah Gish, a certified labyrinth facilitator and creator of the Houston Labyrinth Walkers Facebook page, the heart of the region’s vibrant labyrinth community. “You just have to follow it and you end up in the center.”