OK, this is a complete (well, not for me) diversion from the usual. I’ll relate an experience I had this week (off the bike) and it’s only tangentially related. So if you’d rather not get philosophical today, move along…
Those of you who know me may know of my fascination with labyrinths. I’ve admired them, walked them…even tattooed one on my leg. That’s part of the story.
I’ve never been much on tattoos. I felt that, for me, at least, it had to mean something. Until I found something that truly meant something to me, I would not put it on my body. As some of you know, that happened last year. I had said for years that a tattoo of the Chartres labyrinth would be cool. For me, these were the reasons why: 1) I’ve been fascinated with it for years. The journey of faith, of pilgrimage, of prayer, represented there was important to me; 2) I’ve often considered bike riding a “physical” prayer, much like walking the labyrinth; 3) the dentelles, or teeth, surrounding the labyrinth reminds me strongly of a chainring.
So I finally decided to do it last year. I had it placed on the inside of my right calf, right where a “chain tattoo” would be.
And then this happened early this week:
A local church advertised a labyrinth walk. I decided to go in. I approached the canvas labyrinth, and near the entrance, two ladies were seated. As I got close, I said, “Good morning,” and, having worn shorts, I turned slightly and they saw the tattoo. One responded enthusiastically and asked if she could take a picture of it. The other, meanwhile, asked how much it hurt then said, “You idiot.” The first lady laughed nervously, and said, “Leave it to (second lady) to come up something like that.”
Second lady scurried away, and I began walking the labyrinth. I prayed. I was overwhelmed by the comment and thought that I needed to address it with her. I had no idea what to say. On my way back from the “center,” it came to me. Jesus said, “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over.” (Matthew 18:15)
So I did. As I exited the labyrinth, she was walking by. I said to her, “I really need to speak to you about something.” I told her that Jesus said we should point out our brothers’ and sisters’ fault. I said, “This is the first time I’ve ever come to pray and been called an idiot.”
She apologized profusely and we hugged. She thanked me for giving her the opportunity to right the wrong. She had realized what she had done the moment she said it, and moved away in embarrassment. We talked some more, about labyrinths, about who we were, about prayer, and then we hugged again. It turned full circle – from a wonderful moment, to a moment of doubt, to a wonderful reconciliation.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.