A THEOSOPHICAL LABYRINTH

John Algeo

The Theosophical Society in England
Insight magazine Nov/Dec2001 vol. 42 #6
The contributor is National President of the Theosophical Society in America and an emeritus professor of English from The University of Georgia, Athens, U.S.A.

The new labyrinth at Olcott.
In 1996 at the headquarters of the Theosophical Society in America, in Wheaton, Illinois, staff members and Young Theosophists constructed a labyrinth of stepping stones in the ancient Cretan pattern of seven circuits.

The Ancient Wisdom comes to us by many channels: religious scripture, philosophical dissertations, scientific experiments, fairy tales, music, painting, dance, mandalas, poetry, and - labyrinths.

The Labyrinth: Types, History and Uses

A labyrinth is a winding path in a complex pattern. The most famous labyrinth in the world is the structure in Crete in which the mythical Minotaur was kept, but labyrinths are ancient and widespread in art, legend, myth an spiritual practices. Like a mandala, a labyrinth is a symbolic circular design with a centre. Like a cave, a labyrinth is a passageway through which we explore the underworld, in the case of labyrinths, that of our own consciousness.

The word “labyrinth” comes from Greek, but is probably based upon a non-Greek word, perhaps the term labrys from the Lydian language of Asia Minor, a term for a double-headed axe. The latter was a symbol of royalty and of divinity in the ancient Near East, and is symbolically appropriate because the labyrinth has two aspects. It cuts, as it were, two ways.

Labyrinths are of two main types. One consists of a single pathway that winds about, leading in and out from the circumference toward the centre and back again until it finally arrives at its end, which is usually the centre of the labyrinth. The technical term for such a pattern is “unicursal labyrinth”; or, as a popular name, a “meander.” The word “meander” is also from Greek, originally the name for a river in Asia Minor whose bed wound back and forth across the land until it came to the sea. From the pattern of that river bed, the term “meander” was applied to a pattern of movement in a winding and intricate way. Since, in walking a unicursal labyrinth, one is in fact meandering through it, the term is appropriate.

The other type of labyrinth has pathways that branch so that the walker has to choose between options, some of which are dead ends. Typically only one of the paths leads to the centre or true end of the labyrinth. Such a pattern is called a “multicursal labyrinth” or “maze.” That too is an appropriate name, for the purpose of a “maze” is to “amaze” us, and indeed the two words are historically the same.

The maze involves deception, bewilderment, confusion, choice, and uncertainty. The meander implies reliability, reassurance, clarity, determinatedness, and certainty. The maze challenges us; the meander comforts us. The oldest labyrinths are meanders. The maze did not become widely popular until the Renaissance and eighteenth century.

Some modern mazes are “picture mazes”, that is, if you could look down on the pattern of the maze from above, you would see that its passages from a pictorial design representing an object. Such picture mazes have become very popular in England and America. There is also what we might call a “postmodern maze,” which is a pattern with no entrance, no exit and no centre.

The two most famous labyrinth patterns, however, are both meanders. The older is the Cretan labyrinth, whose classical form has seven circuits. We know the design of this pattern because it appears on ancient Cretan coins. The newer pattern is the Chartres labyrinth, which has eleven circuits, organized into four quadrants. The Chartres labyrinth is so called because it is embedded in the floor of the nave of Chartres cathedral in France. It is made of large blocks of darker coloured stones set into the lighter paving of the church. In earlier times, at the centre of the Chartres labyrinth was a large metal plaque depicting the Minotaur. It was melted down during one of the European wars to use for making armaments.

The most ancient labyrinth we know of was a two-story building in Egypt, described by the Greek historian Herodotus, who found it already in ruins in the fifth century B. C. Helena Petrovna Blavatsky refers to the Egyptian labyrinth as one of the marvels of the ancient world. To what eminence the race in its progress has several times arrived may be feebly surmised by the wonderful monuments of old, still visible, and the descriptions given by Herodotus of other marvels of which no traces now remain. Even in his days the gigantic structures of many pyramids and world famous temples were but masses of ruins. Scattered by the unrelenting hand of time, they are described by the Father of History as “these venerable witnesses of the long bygone glory of departed ancestors.” He “shrinks from speaking of divine things,” and gives to posterity but an imperfect description from hearsay of some marvelous subterranean chambers of the Labyrinth, where lay - and now lie - concealed, the sacred remains of the King-Initiates.
[Isis Unveiled 1: 56]

Following these earliest structures - the two-story roofed Egyptian labyrinth and the walled but unroofed enclosure of the Cretan labyrinth - other labyrinths appeared in the floors of Christian churches built during the Middle Ages, such as the cathedral of Chartres. Church labyrinths are sometimes romantically associated with the Knights Templar, King Solomon’s Temple, and the Freemasons, but their purpose seems to have been simpler and less mysterious. Christians had a religious practice of going on pilgrimages to holy sites; many wanted to make the journey to the holiest shrine of all Christendom, Jerusalem. That pilgrimage was, however, expensive, arduous, dangerous, and often impossible while the Holy Land was in the possession of the Muslims. Consequently a substitute was needed - walking the labyrinth in a church. And from that use came the name ‘Jerusalem’ for the labyrinth.

Labyrinth patterns became popular in gardens especially during the eighteenth century. These were often mazes, one of the most famous being that at Hampton Court. The patterns of garden labyrinths were marked out with herbs, hedges, stones, and flowers, or they were formed by cutting into the turf, leaving a surface-level narrow path marked by a shallow cut on each side. Today labyrinths have become especially popular in England as tourist attractions and as playgrounds for children.

The use of labyrinths is as varied as their forms. Already mentioned is the labyrinth as a game or entertainment. Another use is as a spiritual exercise, such as the substitute for pilgrimages. Today the use of labyrinths is particularly for meditative purposes, such as the grounds of ‘Olcott’, the national centre of the Theosophical Society in America, which includes a Cretan-style labyrinth, with its rich lore of ancient symbolism emerging from the myth of Theseus, Ariadne, and the Minotaur.

THE MYTH OF THE LABYRINTH

The Cretan labyrinth was associated with the story of one of the great Greek heroes, Theseus. Like any good theosophical fairy tale, the whole story has seven chapters. Here, only the episodes central to the labyrinth are recounted, although an associated story, that of Daedalus and Icarus, is also included.

Crete had been long ruled by King Minos, who was a very powerful and clever king. He was happily married to Queen Pasiphae, who had given him eight fine children but who, in punishment for a sin the King had committed against the god Poseidon, also bore a monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull. It was called the Minotaur, which means Minos’s Bull. To hide his shame, King Minos ordered his architect Daedalus to build a mazelike prison, with such complex corridors and passages that no one who entered the building could find his way out again. It was called the Labyrinth. And Minos put the Minotaur into it, to live in its centre and be forever hidden there. Meanwhile, one of Minos’s sons died mysteriously in Athens, and Minos blamed the Athenians for his son’s death. He prayed to the gods to send a plague upon the city in punishment. In desperation, the Athenians sent a messenger to Delphi to find out how they could lift the plague. The Oracle responded that they must give Minos whatever he demanded to compensate for the death of his son. Minos told the Athenians that every nine years they must send him seven young men and seven young women to be fed to the Minotaur. The Athenians had no option but to accept this dreadful demand. And so a ship sailed to Crete with fourteen young Athenians, who were never to return. And nine years later a second ship went. And then the third shipment came due.

The fourteen young Athenians destined for the Minotaur on the third ship were to be chosen by lot. The young prince of Athens, named Theseus, however, insisted that he should be one of the fourteen and either free his people by slaying the Minotaur or perish nobly in the attempt. Despite the grief of the King at the prospect of losing his son, Theseus had his way, and boarded the ship with thirteen of his peers. When the ship arrived in Crete, Minos’s daughter, Ariadne, saw the handsome Theseus and immediately fell in love with him. Despite her duty to her father, Ariadne determined to help the young prince. She knew, however, that even if Theseus should succeed in killing the Minotaur, he would be unable to find his way out of the Labyrinth. She went to Daedalus, the builder of the Labyrinth, to ask for his aid. But not even Daedalus could tell her the plan of the building.

Though he could not solve the mystery of the Labyrinth himself, the clever Daedalus still had a plan. He told Ariadne to give Theseus a ball of thread (which is called a ‘clew’ or ‘clue’). Then she should tell Theseus that he must tie one end of the thread to the entrance of the Labyrinth and carefully unwind the ball as he wandered through the maze. When he wanted to return, he need only follow the thread back to the entrance.

Theseus took the ball from Ariadne and led his companions as they entered the Labyrinth. They wandered here and there, in and out, through passages leading inward to the centre. Finally, deep within the Labyrinth, Theseus met the Minotaur. And he slew him with his bare hands. The Athenians retraced their steps out of the Labyrinth, following the clew thread, back to the entrance, where Ariadne was waiting for them. Then they fought their way back to their ship and they set sail for Athens.

When Minos discovered that Theseus and the Athenians had slain the Minotaur, escaped from the Labyrinth, taken his daughter Ariadne, and left for Greece, he was very angry. He knew that no one could have found a way out of the Labyrinth without the aid of Daedalus. So as punishment, Minos had Daedalus and his only son Icarus cast into the Labyrinth, and he made sure that they had no clew to find their way out. The future looked bleak for poor Daedalus, but the enterprising craftsman put his mind to the problem and came up with a clever solution.

Daedalus collected the wax drippings left behind by victims in the Labyrinth who had tried to find their way through by the aid of candlelight. And he collected the feathers that birds had dropped there. From the wax and feathers and some other things he found in the Labyrinth, Daedalus made two pairs of wings, one for his son Icarus and one for himself. With these wings, Daedalus proposed that he and his son should fly out of the open-topped Labyrinth and away from Crete and the wrath of Minos. But first Daedalus warned Icarus about the dangers of flight. They must not fly too low to the sea, or the spray might wet the wings and they would clog. They also must not fly too high in the heavens, or the heat of the sun might melt the wax that held the feathers. And so Daedalus and Icarus began the first human flight.

And for a time, all went well. They escaped from the Labyrinth and headed out over the open sea, flying neither too low nor too high. Soon Icarus forgot his father’s warning and in the exaltation of flight, rose to dizzying heights above the sea and the land. He wanted to fly as high as the sun itself. but the sun god, Apollo, would have no human being rival him, so he sent his warm rays upon Icarus. The wax of Icarus’s wings melted, the feathers dropped off, and Icarus plunged from the height of heaven into the sea below. Daedalus watched his son fall, but even the cleverest craftsman could do nothing to save Icarus. So Daedalus had to fly helplessly on alone. Eventually he reached Sicily, where was given refuge and employment by the king of the land. He also went to Sardinia, and in those lands built many marvellous temples, palaces, towers and lifelike statues.