July 8 - July 13

The Abbey at Iona
A view from Dun 1

On the pilgrimage
St. Columba's Bay - on pilgrimage


Sorry, I'm too lazy to edit and post these notes separately - just skim!

July 8, 2006

Today was Staffa day, with morning prayers as usual, and an open session followed by an early lunch (run, Puffins, run!) Then off to the quay to board the boat for Staffa. Staffa is an incredible island, with the basalt columns shooting up from the sea. Out of the boat, and follow the path, which fortunately has a railing, though the rail wobbles a bit .... along the way to Fingal’s cave. The other path – stairs and then a trek along the cliff top takes you to the puffins, but I thought that my adventure on the pilgrimage the day before meant that I should give the extra climbing and walking a miss. The first photo shows you the climb -- if you can see the little landing mid-way - turn left for Fingal's cave, slight jog to the right and keep climbing for the puffins!

A couple of other views of Staffa
So I got back on the boat, and was entertained by the captain and his mate. They gave us information about the islands that we could see around us, and then took us along to the bay beneath the cliff so that we could enjoy the puffins at sea, as well as watch them fly up to gather near the people (who protect them from seagulls)


July 10, 2009
Moving day – up before 6, bag downstairs ready for the van by 6:15, into the refectory where the 4 early leavers, plus early riser Mark, gathered for tea and breakfast. Then off to the quay to catch the ferry by 7. Onto the bus in Fionnphort, and on to Craignure, where shortly afterward we caught the ferry for Oban. We had some time in Oban, time to make sure we had reserved seats on the Glasgow train, and to have lunch before we boarded. We arrived in Glasgow just before 4, where I discovered that the 4:00 train for Edinburgh was running just minutes late. I stepped onto the train, the doors close3d behind me and I arrived in good time for the train to Berwick Upon Tweed – actually, I was early, which meant that I could arrange transport to Lindisfarne after the tide turned, and go to a nearby hotel and have dinner, to be picked up and driven to the Open gate when the causeway would be open.

We timed it so well that the taxi was about the third vehicle to begin the drive across. The causeway is some 5 miles long, and there is a waiting point should you arrive too late to cross. Some of the drivers had gotten out to wander the area while waiting for the tide to turn and the taxi just pulled around them and headed across – it helped that the taxi was a high riding van since there was still water on the causeway when we began. Around the island are lists of tide times/tables, along with a poster which shows what happens if you do not pay adequate attention – the vehicle in the photo has water to its widows – suggesting that the tide comes in like it does on the Bay of Fundy and you might find yourself in feet of water.

I’d been told that the causeways are usually shingle, but this is a paved causeway. The taxi driver told me that is was a special tar that was used, but that the causeway still requires a fair bit of maintenance because of the wear and tear of the salt water bath it takes every day. I’d like to go back and look at the causeway, but have yet to get my bearings.

But as we were driving across the causeway, the island captured me. There’s something about the atmosphere, even though when the tide is low there are tourists everywhere (those of us who stay past the turning of the tide are in a special category!) There’s something about these mystic Celtic Isles! And there’s something about being able to settle, to look at all of the sights that appeal, but also about being able to take the time to relax and enjoy the atmosphere, and to have the time to be able to sit quietly in the chapel spaces, and relax in the chapel gardens, or even the garden of the B&B (or retreat house)

I arrived at The Open Gate at 8:30 and was shown to my room (en suite!!!!), advised when breakfast would be, and told when evening prayers would be held (9:00) though there was no pressure to attend.

I settled in and did arrive (a few minutes late, I fear) for evening prayers. The format is very different from Iona and yet there is a similarity. For the core of the faith is Christian, and there is no “official” Celtic spirituality, but rather a flowing and blending that has arisen from their understanding of their relationship to God, to their community and to their world (which includes the natural world and not simply the human world) A new phase, a new adventure. The person welcoming me is actually the person who will be leading next week’s retreat, and he affirmed, as did Iona, that participants are encouraged to choose how much they will be involved, to feel free to take part in as much or as little of the activities as meets their needs, and to guard against becoming overtired I’m looking forward to learning more, but first I have time to catch my breath and become centred in Lindisfarne, leaving Iona behind for the time being, or at least, letting Iona settle into my being.

July 11, 2009

What a glorious change. No rising bell, no morning tasks. Breakfast was pleasant, and Ruth, the co-director told me that they believe that The Open Gate should be a gentle place for the renewal of spirit.

No morning prayers on the weekends at The Open Gate, though breakfast is timed so that those who wish to go to St. Mary’s and take communion may do so and still be back in time for breakfast. I’m uncertain about St. Mary’s, thinking that the United Reformed Church gathering this evening might be more appropriate to my needs at this time. (All plans are subject to speed of dinner service – reservations are required for Saturday evening, and mine is for 6:30 – and I was lucky to get that! It seems Saturday evenings are very, very busy, though Jackie was surprised to hear that the first place I enquired - at 11:30 this morning - was already fully booked for tonight, and the second place I asked is willing to accommodate me in the bar, but the dining room was also fully booked!

Lindisfarne is a very interesting place. The churches co-operate with one another to meet the needs of spiritual pilgrims, complementing the services, not competing. For this reason the URC offers a service only on Saturday evening, so if I miss this one I will have missed my only opportunity to be with them, though I visited their chapel and their sculpture garden this morning. I have a leaflet from them that plans a silent walk around Holy Island, with directions for viewing and meditating as you go. It says that it will take 3 hours and I was thinking that I might like to do this walk tomorrow. But Jackie who is also staying here was talking about going to somewhere close to go and see the puffins. Our conversation revealed that there does not appear to be any cliff climbing involved, and perhaps I will go with her (she has a car and so is able to drive to the starting point which is not on the Island), so the walk around the Island may be delayed either by the time we’re gone, or until Monday. Puffin trips are weather dependent so she is planning to call tomorrow morning to find out if the trips are on or not.

July 11, 2009
I finished dinner in good time for the service at the URC Centre (St. Cuthbert’s) Those who were present early were asked to read prayer requests during the service. The Centre is open all week and in the entry is a tree with stained glass pieces hanging from it. Visitors are invited to write their requests on the paper provided (Post-It notes) and add them to one of the pieces of stained glass. These requests are gathered prior to the service, and it was these that we were asked to read at the appropriate time. Already I’m wondering how we could adapt this for our use – having a place whee the requests could be written at any time during the week, and incorporating them into the prayers o the people.
We began with singing “Be Still for the Glory of the Lord...” Though we counted only 12, it was lovely, and it was a lovely service, taken from the “Wee Worship Book” from the Community of Iona, but it followed a familiar format. In lieu of a meditation we reflected upon the OT reading of David dancing before the ark as it was moved to Jerusalem. After the service we discovered that there were 3 Canadians (all staying at the Open Gate), 6 Americans, and 3 locals, one of whom is not truly local, but has been living here and soon will be moving on to Canada to work at one of the L’Arche communities in Nova Scotia, probably in Cape Breton. It has been an amazing discovery for me to learn just how many young people are using their first years after university, or between university years, to work as volunteers in a variety of communities. They were present in Iona, they are present in this community, and they move on from each experience to another one, giving of their time and themselves generously and cheerfully. They come from all over the world, are from a variety of backgrounds, but care passionately about the world and the people of the world. Most of those I have encountered are working in ecumenical settings – not affiliated with a specific denomination. There is a lesson here, and we’d do well to learn it if we truly wish to connect with them in their faith journey.
When I introduced myself to the minister, he commented that we are from sister churches. The United Reformed Church is a uniting of the Presbyterians, the Congregational, and the Church of Christ. We compared notes on our similarities and our differences (no Methodists in their union, and no Church of Christ is ours). He was leavingSunday morning for a week’s holiday in London. They were going by train and visiting all the sights that tourists do. He commented that a simple movie night for them meant a drive of 160 miles, and tides had to be taken into account. He said if you wanted a movie evening you might as well book a hotel or B&B for the night. It certainly put things into a new perspective. And that’s simply living on a tidal island! Fancy having to build in a ferry or two as they do on Iona. And I never even saw a movie theatre on Mull – perhaps there’s one in Tobermory ... Videos and DVD’s would definitely be more the thing there!


July 12
Good morning, Lincoln Road!


It rained during the night, possibly heavily, but the morning brought clearing skies – and the boat trip is on. The first sailings were full, so we are booked on the noon sailing, leaving here at 10:30 – more later!


What a glorious day! The sky was “interesting” but the seas were calm, other than the usual roll of an open boat. We saw a huge variety of sea birds, and seals sunning on the rocks. The seals largely ignored us. They’re obviously used to the boats coming round and know that the boats don’t land and though people may be close, they will not be close enough to hurt them. But they were basically silent. Seals have an eery call, sounding mournful – but not this bunch!
We landed on Inner Farne Island (the cruise was of the Farne Islands, and we left from Seahouses) As soon as we left the concrete causeway that led from the boats to the board walk we were under attack by the Arctic Terns. Apparently, as soon as the board walks were built, the terns decided that this would be a good nesting space, and so there are hundreds of nests with young terns either in them or close by. The arrival of people sets off the parent birds who immediately attack – and I do mean attack. We were warned to wear hats. I was thinking it was to protect us from bird droppings, which is indeed part of the attack, but more importantly, it was to protect our heads from the sharp beaks, since the adults don’t simply swoop close, they attack. One man, who was hatless, was bleeding from the pecks to his head. Trying to get past their nesting area was like running the gauntlet!
But once past, we found other nesting areas (fenced off to protect the birds.) There were cormorants and shags, other species I’ve yet to identify, and there were puffins, lots and lots of puffins.
Puffins are the clowns. They’re cute, timid, and awkward. When they fly their feet stick out to the sides of their bodies. When they land, it is with resignation - they put their feet down and sort of plop down. But they are cute, and they capture the hearts and imaginations of most people. I managed to get some fairly good pictures of them. Now to find internet access that gives me sufficient time to add some pictures to this, or to somewhere else.
We enjoyed our hour on the island, but did not relish running the gauntlet to get back to the boat. As we were headed back we found a young Arctic Tern that was on the wrong side of the fence. It was trying to get back to the nesting area, and kept sticking its head through the chicken wire fencing to see if it could just go directly back. It was much too big for that! So, diving parents and lots of people notwithstanding, I thought I’d see if I could encourage it to turn around (it was getting farther and farther away from the gap in the fence it must have come through) and head it back to safety. I stood directly in its path, which did indeed prompt it to turn around and walk the other way. It stuck close to the fence, and every time it thought I might have disappeared, it turned around, saw me and would turn back around and walk farther. Before we were finished, it almost seemed as though it was turning around, like a typical kid, to ask “Are we there yet?” Only to sigh and turn back around and keep on trucking. When we reached the opening, it stopped, moved forward, hesitated, and then moved well into the protected area. I didn’t stick around to see if it would be foolish enough to come back out again. I thought that I’d done my random act of kindness for the day and couldn’t miss my boat for any further rescue missions!
After our hour on the island we set sail for our home port. The ride back was a little choppy, but we were dressed for the spray, and since we were sitting in a more protected area, we got less spray on the way home than we had on the trip out!

July 13
Jackie and I decided to do the “Walk Around Holy Island in Silence” tour that was laid out in a brochure from the URC. We agreed to keep silence, and we did that well. We’d catch one another’s eye when it was time to move to the next stage, but it was an opportunity to witness and pay tribute to all the evidence of God’s active presence in the world around us. We walked over a mile to the gates outside the castle, pausing to sit on rocks there to contemplate the view – the sea spread out before us, the castle behind us, the town left well behind, the grasses, wildflowers, mosses and lichens. All this beauty to a haunting accompaniment of the seals calling to one another. And, of course, the noise of the chitter chatter of others as they climbed toward the castle. It was amazingly busy though the castle was closed. Our directions were simple and could be followed by anyone anywhere: give yourself some space and simply look around you, noticing what is there - at a distance and close at hand. Notice the colours, shapes and textures. Watch how tings move in the breeze or wind ... how the water reflects the sky ... the movement of the waves (okay, if you aren’t near water that last part will be a challenge!) Resist your desire to think about what you are seeing. Watch simply .... give it no meaning .... see only creation being itself ...
We then passed by the castle and went to the walled garden, admiring the flowers that were there. They’re “old fashioned” flowers. The garden was designed and planted in the early twentieth century and has been kept to the original design. It serves as a reminder that there is and always has been beauty, even without a great deal of our intervention. It was also an opportunity to add the beauty of the fragrance of a garden to our awareness of creation. Here the instructions were very simple: Again, resist the temptation to name everything you notice; simply enjoy your God-given sense of smell.
We continued on our walk to a spot that overlooked rocks and the sea, and sat. Here we were invited to feel. To feel what we were sitting on, to feel the breeze or the wind or the stillness, to pick up a stone or rock and feel its texture and shape. Again we were invited not to think but to let it be.
The next stop was at a hide overlooking the Lough (lake). Hidden from the birds on the lough we were invited to listen. This proved a challenge initially because there was another group there, and one woman persisted in speaking at the top of her voice – she couldn’t find anything sacred about any of this. But then I doubt she ever stopped talking long enough to listen for the divine. Nor did she allow anyone else around her the luxury of silence. She took offence when another woman stepped into the hide, pronounced “too noisy” and withdrew. We both sighed with relief when they took themselves off and silence settled in the hide – and we could hear the chatter of the birds and relax into the peace and tranquillity of the lough. We listened to the rustle of the reeds, the call of the birds, the creak of the bench (or was that my knees???)
When we left the lough we followed the path to the sand dunes, at which point we felt a few drops, quickly put on our jackets and ... the heavens opened! Our jeans got wet, but we were mostly dry (lesson well learned in Mull – never go out without your waterproof handy!) – the rain was very, very heavy, but then it ended, and the sun returned and we continued our walk. We did not go down and taste the sea water – we’d done quite enough of that the day before, and we surely were aware of the feel of being wet!
Then we headed for the town (village, I guess) ... watching for the Pirri Pirri Burrs - an import from New Zealand that they are trying to contain and keep from spreading. So when we cleared that section of the path we “deburred” before carrying on. Along the way we paused to enjoy the dancing butterflies, the colours of the wildflowers, all the beauty that is so often ignored or taken for granted.
The instructions for the final part of our walk are excellent for wherever and whenever we can or will take the time:

Mull over what you have seen.

How have you met with God during this time? What might God have been saying to you? Might there be something to offer to your community when you get home .... Some new insight, a smidgeon of new peace or wisdom????

Take time to be with God, to let God speak with you as you prepare to follow God back into your community, symbolised now by Holy Island (or wherever you do this exercise)

Walk back, and as you walk back, give thanks for what you have seen, heard, felt, tasted and experienced. Let the experience become embedded in your memory - and walk knowing the grace of God.


Later ....