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| Castle on the way to Mull |
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| Ferry to Mull |
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| Bus ride across Mull |
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| Bus ride across Mull. |
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| Beach at Iona |
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| Grace, Kathryn, and I at the beach. |
"Iona Abbey is one of Scotland's most historic and sacred sites. Located on the Isle of Iona, just off the Isle of Mull, it was founded by St Columba and his Irish followers in AD 563. As a celebrated focus for Christian pilgrimage, Iona retains its spiritual atmosphere and remains an enduring symbol of worship. The abbey church was restored at the beginning of the 20th century, whilst work on restoring the living accommodation began in 1938, following the foundation of the Iona Community. Today, the Iona Community continues the tradition of worship first established by St Columba 1,450 years ago."
The worship was beautiful and simpy, allowing much time for reflection and it was a really nice change. The next day we took part in a pilgrimage across the island led by Doug. Here the words, songs, and scriptures from our pilgrimage:
The pilgrimage stops at places of significance around the island – be they historical, religious or thought-provoking. A reflection, prayer, reading and/or a song will be shared at each stop. None of the prayers concludes with an Amen, because the whole pilgrimage is a form of prayer and our worship continues throughout it.
One thing which may make the difference between a very enjoyable (or soggy) and informative amble around the island - and a transforming experience – is to pick up one thought, image, phrase or question at each stop to mull over for at least part of the walk to the next stop.
Another thing which will help you BE PRESENT to deeper insights through the pilgrimage is to focus your conversations on what you are seeing and experiencing here and now –– rather than chatting about what you did, where you went, what you experienced somewhere else in the past.
SONGS
Take, O take me as I am (Iona WGRG)
Take, O take me as I am
summon out what I shall be
set your seal upon my heart
and live in me.
Behold, behold, I make all things new ( WGRG)
Behold, behold, I make all things new
beginning with you and starting from today.
Behold, Behold, I make all things new
my promise is true, for I am Christ the way.
Bless the Lord, my soul (Taize)
Bless the Lord, my soul, and bless God’s holy name
Bless the Lord my soul, who leads me into life
Psalm 139
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go to the heavens, you are there.
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea
even there your hand will guide me
your right hand will hold me fast.
St Martin’s Cross
St Martin of Tours lived about a century before Columba. He spent his early years as a Roman soldier. One night, just before a major battle, he reported to his superiors and informed them that he could no longer serve, saying, “I am a soldier of Christ: I cannot fight.”
Martin dedicated the rest of his life to the ministry of hospitality, good works, and evangelism, playing a prominent role in the mission to the Celts.
St Martin’s Cross has been rooted here, in its original spot, for over 1200 years – through Viking raids, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the age of reason, the Industrial Revolution, two world wars, the Cold War – as a constant witness to the timelessness and faithfulness of God against the ever-changing sky and the passing centuries.
Carved on the West side are scenes from the Bible: Daniel in the Lion’s den, Abraham and Isaac, David playing the harp, Mary and Jesus…
Carved on the East face is an interweaving Celtic pattern, symbolic of the intertwining of earth and heaven, the sacred and the secular.
George MacLeod founder of the Iona Community, said ‘Iona is a very thin place. There is only a tissue-paper layer between things material and things spiritual.’
St Martin’s life – like our own unpredictable lives – was a journey of straight roads, sudden life-changing encounters, crossroads of indecision, complete turnarounds, new horizons….
Think for a moment about your own life-journey up to now. (Pause)
Think also about those you journey alongside today, companions on the road of life, and brothers and sisters in the wider world, with whom we share this precious planet. (Pause)
We are all interconnected and held in God’s hand.
Reflection:
A reading adapted from Dom Helder Camara, who was a Roman Catholic Archbishop in Brazil and champion of the poor.
Setting out on the road…
Setting out is first of all getting out of ourself. Breaking through the shell of selfishness hardening us within our own ego.
To stop revolving around ourself, as if we were the centre of everything.
Setting out is refusing to be ringed in by the problems of our own small world. However important these may be, humanity is more important and our task is to serve humanity.
Setting out is not covering miles of land or sea, or travelling faster than the speed of sound. It is first and foremost opening ourselves to other people, trying to get to know them, going out to meet them.
Opening ourselves to ideas, including those with which we disagree, this is what the good traveller should do. Happy are they who understand the words: “If you disagree with me, you have something to give me.”
It is possible to travel alone. But the good traveller knows that the journey is human life and life needs company. “Companion” means ‘the one who eats the same bread.’ Happy are they who feel they are always on the road and everyone they meet is their chosen companion.
The good traveller takes care of weary companions. They guess when they lose heart. They take them as they find them, listen to them. Intelligently, gently, above all lovingly, they encourage them to go on and recover their joy in the journey.
To travel for the sake of travelling is not the true journey. We must seek a goal, envisage an end to the journey, an arrival.
But there are journeys and journeys.
For the Abrahamic minorities, setting out means to get moving and help many others get moving to make the world more just and more human.
St Martin’s Cross (Continued)
Prayer:
Jesus.
In the intertwining of my life with yours
brokenness meets re-making
In the intertwining of my life with yours
restlessness meets peace.
In the intertwining of my life with yours
bondage meets liberation.
In the intertwining of my life with yours
weakness meets strength
In the intertwining of my life with yours
selfishness meets servanthood
In the intertwining of my life with yours
death meets resurrection
In the intertwining of my life with yours
your kingdom comes.
(Pat Bennett - adapted)
A Celtic Blessing:
Bless to us, O God, the earth beneath our feet.
Bless to us, O God, the path whereon we go.
Bless to us, O God, the people whom we meet.
Bless to us, O God, each sound our ears hear.
Bless to us, O God, each ray that guides our way.
Reilig Odhrain / St Oran’s Chapel
This is the oldest remaining building on the island, dating back to the 12th century, however, the surrounding burial ground has probably been in continuous use since Columban times, and it remains a burial ground for islanders today. Iona has a long tradition of being a special place for burial. A 16th century source asserts that there are 48, Scottish, 8 Norwegian and 3 Irish kings buried here.
There is a grisly (and presumably apocryphal) burial legend associated with this spot, that in order to consecrate the chapel a willing sacrifice needed to be offered in the form of a monk being buried alive, and that Oran (after whom the chapel is named) volunteered. Apparently, three days after his burial, Columba opened the grave to gaze once more upon his brother – only to find Oran conscious, saying “There is no such great wonder in death, nor is Hell what it has been described…” Oran was quickly buried again, before he could reveal anything further.
Echoes of this legend can still be found today, where church institutions suppress questions or debate, or cover up institutional failings to preserve public image. We too, as individuals, sometimes suppress the questions we have and which disturb us, but which if owned and wrestled with may actually lead us to deeper faith.
(We end our pilgrimage in a graveyard, remembering that that is where the Resurrection faith began).
Reading: Luke 24: 1-6
On the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them,
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.”
St Oran’s Chapel – continued)
Reflection: I never wanted to be born
This meditation was written originally for the funeral service of a
group of teenagers who had been killed in a car crash. However,
it could also apply to those going through other transitions which
include leaving one reality where they have become secure,
comfortable – and facing a new context. It should be read slowly.
I never wanted to be born
The older I grew
the fonder I became
of my mother’s womb
and its warmth
and its safety
I feared the unknown:
the next world,
about which I knew nothing
but imagined the worst.
Yes, as I grew older
I sensed in my soul
that the womb was not my home for ever.
Though I did not know when,
I felt sure that one day
I would disappear through a door
which had yet to be opened,
and confront the unknown
of which I was afraid.
And then,
it happened.
In blood, tears and pain,
it happened.
I was cut off from the familiar;
I left my life behind
and discovered not darkness but light,
not hostility but love,
not eternal separation
but hands that wanted to hold me.
(Pause)
I never wanted to be born.
I don’t want to die.
The older I grow
the fonder I become
of this world
and its warmth
and its safety.
I fear the unknown:
the next world,
about which I know nothing
but imagine the worst.
Yet as I grow older,
I sense in my soul
that this world is not my home forever.
Though I do not know when,
I feel that one day
I will disappear through a door
which has yet to be opened.
Perhaps having come so safely thorough the first door,
I should not fear so hopelessly the second.
(John L Bell)
Prayer:
As you were before us at our life’s beginning,
be you so again at our journey’s end
As you were beside us at our soul’s shaping,
God be also at our journey’s close.
(Iona Abbey Worship Book)
Dunsmeorach
George MacLeod, Founder of the Iona Community lived here for a period with his
family. At present members of the Iona Community’s Resident Group live here.
Iona is such a beautiful place and - for many - a place where it is so easy to be conscious
of God’s presence, that you could wish to stay here forever. But George MacLeod’s
vision was for people to come here, work together and learn from each other, and then
return to the city to help rebuild the ‘common life’ there.
Murphy Davis, a founding member of the Open Door Community in Atlanta, once said here on Iona “Our hearts are set on pilgrim roads not to satisfy ourselves with finding one holy place but to take the experience of the presence of the Holy back into the thick of things.”
Think for a moment about the community where you are living – or the one where you soon will be living. Think about finding the holy in the midst of life there: grace, forgiveness, reconciliation, resurrection. Think about taking the energy you feel from being in this place back with you into those places and what your life might look like.
Nunnery
The Nunnery was founded in the 13th century by the Augustinians, about the same time that the Benedictine Abbey was built. But they are in very different states today: The Abbey rebuilt; the Nunnery in ruins. It was home to a working community until the late 16th century. They offered 400 years of service, but we know next to nothing about them.
In many ways this is a reflection of church life down the centuries, where men have primarily held positions of authority and women have been relegated to the periphery.
There were once plans to rebuild the nunnery, but perhaps the ruins are more evocative and act as a reminder of the often overlooked role of women.
Reading: Matthew 26: 6-13
Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, “Why this waste? For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.” But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.
Let us pause to remember women of faith we have known and those who we know today – and give thanks for their lives and witness. You are invited to call out names of those you wish to remember
Reflection: God and Man and Woman – ( WGRG)
Reflection: God and Man and Woman
A In the beginning God made man.
He was so disappointed that he tried again
and the next time he made woman.
B Eve, the first woman, was a vegetarian.
She liked apples, and ate the wrong one.
Men have been suspicious of vegetarians ever since.
A Noah didn’t eat apples.
He was a man…so he drank alcohol.
In fact, he drank so much alcohol that one day
his sons found their old man completely sizzled
and lying in the nude.
Women have been suspicious of alcohol ever since.
B Lot didn’t eat apples or drink wine,
he just lived in a city where the men didn’t know who they
fancied.
. So God told him to leave the city, and so he did.
God said, ‘Don’t look back, for I am going to burn down
The city.’
So Lot didn’t look back, but his wife did
and she turned into a pillar of salt.
Women have never looked back since.
A Delilah didn’t eat apples, drink wine or look back.
She was a hairdresser.
Samson didn’t know that,
But while he was resting his macho muscles,
Delilah cut his hair and took his strength away.
Men have avoided being bald ever since.
B St Paul didn’t know Eve, Noah, Lot or Delilah.
but he did know some women,
and those he did must have given him bad memories.
Because he told them not to speak in church,
not to go into church without a hat
and always to obey their husbands.
Paul also said that men shouldn’t get married
unless they were unable to control themselves.
Men have been unable to control themselves ever since.
A But Jesus was different.
He was strong, but he cried.
He even cried in front of other men.
He knew that some women had bad reputations,
but that didn’t keep him back from them:
he knelt beside them.
He loved his disciples who were all men
and he wasn’t afraid to tell them that he loved them.
And though he was never married,
He was always surrounded by women, whom,
at his death, were more faithful to him than the men.
Jesus didn’t make a fuss about who was who,
or who was what.
He said that everyone who loved him was his mother,
His sister,
His brother.
A and B: Thank God for Jesus.
(Wild Goose Resource Group)
Martyr’s Bay
This bay takes its name from an event in 806, when, it is said,
68 monks were slaughtered at the hands of Viking invaders.
The monastic community practised both hospitality and non-violence, and thus were an easy target for those with no such beliefs. Ultimately, the continuing Viking raids led to the Columban community abandoning Iona and retreating to Ireland.
Nearby is the war memorial, commemorating the islanders who were killed in more recent wars. So perhaps here is a fitting
place to remember all who die from violent acts; and to
remember those who give their lives to witness to Jesus’ way
of non-violence.
Reading: John 12:24-26
“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.”
Prayer:
Let us remember those
who have recently been victims of violence in our world. (Pause)
Let us remember those who share in your suffering
because they remain loyal to your way of non-violence. (Pause)
Lord,
Chances are we will never be called to become martyrs,
but each day we are called to die to self and live for others;
each day we are asked to set aside
some of our choices and aspirations and preferences,
to make space for others’ whose are different;
each day we are asked to say no to various forms of violence
and seek a better way of handling difference and disagreements.
In those everyday life or death enhancing choices,
keep us true to you.
Crossroads
This is the only crossroads on the island. Up until the early part of the 19th century, when the island population peaked at around 500, it would have been a place of meeting, sharing news and gossip. On the pilgrimage it is a place of decisions: of whether to take the rough boggy track up the hill toward the Marble Quarry and Columba’s Bay or the more gentle road to the Machair. Here we also pause to remember the crossroads in our own life, where our decisions may take us down new and different paths.
Reading: Jeremiah 6:16
This is what the Lord says:
“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.
Prayer:
Living God,
Our journey in life is straightforward,
for most of us, most of the time.
But then, suddenly, we find ourselves at a crossroads
and we wonder where we should go next.
and nothing is clear at all.
We must make decisions
and choose which path to take.
So we ask that, at the various crossroads
at which we now stand in our lives
we may take the path that is right for us
and for those with whom we travel
and that we will be aware of your companionship
on the next leg of our journey.
We also remember people we know
who are at an important or difficult crossroads
and we hold them in our prayers.
Song: Take, O take me as I am (WGRG)
Columba’ s Bay
Legend has it that Columba climbed to the top of a nearby hill to check that his native land could no longer be seen, and thus chose Iona as the place from which to begin his missionary work.
There are many tales surrounding his departure from Ireland, however, these may be of medieval origin. In the account of Columba’s life written a century after his death it simply states that “Columba sailed from Ireland,
choosing the life of a pilgrim.”
Reading: Luke 9: 57-62
As they were going along the road, someone said to him, I will follow your wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head’ to another he said, ‘follow me.’ But he said, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus said to him ‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’ Another said ‘I will follow you Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.’ Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God’
We will use stones from the beach to help us reflect on our own personal journey as pilgrims on this earth.
Columba’s journey was away from the safety of the known. We remember here the things we feel may hold us back from making a fresh start or that weigh us down as we try to journey onward.
Here we will pick up two stones. One symbolic of that which we would wish to let go of – something we need to leave behind. We cast this rock into the sea, and turn, and without looking back, pick up a second stone as a sign of a new direction or commitment that we move towards, as we begin our return journey – and we take it with us.
And when we have done that, we come back together as a group at this spot for a prayer.
(Allow a few minutes for each person to choose stones
to throw away and keep.)
Prayer:
God of new beginnings:
Help us to truly let go
and to turn our backs
on the things that hold us back,
and to hold on
to those things
that remind us of your love,
and help us to follow in your way.
Song: Behold, behold, I make all things new
beginning with you and starting from today
Behold, Behold, I make all things new
my promise is true, for I am Christ the way. (WGRG)
Machair
Machair is a Gaelic term meaning ‘raised beach’ and it is a habitat fairly unique to the Western Isles. Its fertility is due to the seashell content of the sand which is blown up onto the land. This Machair has been cultivated since Columban times. If you look carefully you can see furrows where crops were planted. It was, and is, common land. In past times plots were regularly re-allocated to ensure fair access to the most fertile areas. Today it is used for shared grazing and even the island golf tournament.
So here it is that we pause to remember the gift of community, of land, of shared resources – and of a simpler lifestyle. No matter how technologically advanced we have become since the first crops were grown on the Machair, we are still utterly dependent on the earth for our survival. We are also dependent in so many ways on each other and countless others around the globe, who we may not know and too often forget about.
The Machair challenges us to seek greater community and learn to live in ways which treat more justly creation and God’s children everywhere.
Reading: Acts 4: 32-35
Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.
Prayer:
Creator God,
The psalmist reminds us that earth and its fullness are yours,
yet it is so easy for us to reach out
and take what we want from the world.
Help us to see
when our bargain
is someone else’s impoverishment;
when our pleasure is paid for
by someone else’s pain,
and break our hearts
as yours is broken.
(Pat Bennett – adapted)
The Hermit’s Cell
This ring of stones is all that remains of an ancient beehive cell, or enclosure. It is possible that it was a monk’s cell.
In Columba’s day there were hundreds of monks living and working together on this island. Monasteries, rather than
being quiet were busy institutions – with gardens, libraries, meeting rooms, hospitals, laundries and large kitchens, constantly teeming with people.
Most of the great Celtic saints alternated between periods
of intense activity and involvement in administrative affairs with lengthy spells of quiet reflection – including time spent alone in a cell like this.
In this, they were following the example of Jesus – one moment surrounded by crowds and engaged in preaching, teaching and healing, and the next walking alone by the lakeside or engaged in quiet prayer in the mountains. Columba’s life and the lives of his followers were a balance
of “doing” and “being.”
I invite you to sit down on a stone or on the grass, or stand comfortably, and spend the next five minutes or so in silence, listening for God and to God, or simply being relaxed, still
and quiet in a world that is so full of activity and noise.
Reading: “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
(Five minutes of silence)
Prayer:
Now, O Lord,
calm me into a quietness that heals and listens,
that moulds my longings and passions,
my wounds and wonderings
into a more holy, human shape.
in the silence, let me listen
and hear the truth you have put into me;
trust the love you have for me
which you call me to live out
with all my sisters and brothers in your human family. (adapted from Ted Loder)
Song: Bless the Lord, my soul (Taize)
Bless the Lord, my soul, and bless God’s holy name
Bless the Lord my soul, who leads me into life (Psalm 104:1)
A Celtic Blessing:
Deep Peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you
The Stile:
Stepping stones and stiles are not just about crossing rough ground. They are reminders of a role we are invited to play in our divided world. A prophetic, even subversive, role. One of challenging inhuman walls of separation with bridges and gateways, dialogue and relationships. Finding ways through. Finding better ways of living together in our world.
(Brian Woodcock, former Abbey Warden)
Dun I, which simply means ‘Hill of Iona’ is the highest spot on the island – 332 feet above sea level.
On a clear day, the view is glorious.
Coming to Iona- or going to any new place - can offer us the chance to see our life journey from a different perspective, to stand back and take stock.
Take a moment to appreciate the view – to wonder at the glory and power of God’s creation – to feel the elements and remember that you are alive.
Take a moment to reflect also on new perspectives you have been given on your home culture, church and lifestyle.
Hilltop moments have their place. Yet we can’t remain above it all. We all have to come down to earth again.
The disciples who witnessed Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountaintop went on to Jerusalem, to witness Jesus’ crucifixion, death, and resurrection. Then they and their successors went to new places and new people to share his story – and often faced hostility and opposition, especially when his story clashed with the values controlling those cultures.
May we never retreat or seek to extract ourselves from the everyday suffering and grassroots struggles of the oppressed and marginalised people of the earth. May we remain true to the values of Jesus’ story – and use our vision to challenge the powers of this world that keep God’s people down.
Prayer:
When I ascend to the mountaintop
and gaze with joy at the other side,
or when I must travel to places of death;
cherish my delight, and contain my horror,
for you have been there, and there, before me,
O Jesus of the way.
When my journey takes me far across the world
and I must encounter new tongues, new ideas, new ways,
hold my heart and mind open,
for you are there too, waiting to welcome me,
O Jesus of the Way.
And when my path is unlit,
and I can see nothing in front but dark and fearful shapes,
still my panic enough to know
that one of them is your shape,
O Jesus of the Way.
Song: Psalm 139
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go to the heavens, you are there.
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea
even there your hand will guide me
your right hand will hold me fast.
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