Celtic Spirituality - 3 - Iona

Just to explain, these posts are about 2 weeks displaced in time. I was in Iona about 2 weeks ago. It has taken until we settled in Dingle to get around to writing. I hope to catch up to current time n about a week.

A view on the Isle of Mull.

Mary arrived and I was not there to meet her. I had a flat tire and was working on getting it repaired when she arrived. The schedule was set back by about an hour or so. Once we got together we drove north to Oban in hopes of catching the ferry after the one we had planned. It was booked solid. So was the one after that. But the third one still had space, so we had dinner together and then rode the ferry across from Oban to Craignure. From there is was an hours drive across the island to the town of Fionnphort; pronounced "Fin-fort".

Sheep on the road are common.

It was a gorgeous drive on a one lane road. Since we were so late we encountered very little traffic and our excitement just grew as we approached or stop for the night. Sheep and cattle on the road, a flock of chickens, and the occasional car were all we saw in that hour. That and spectacular scenery.

Iona Abbey from the ferry

We arrived before dark - about 10:15pm and went to sleep as soon as possible after. The next morning we woke to a wonderful Scottish breakfast and took an early ferry to Iona. The abbey seems to rise up straight out of the rock it is built upon. It is almost like organic stone. After such a long haul we were finally close to one of my favorite thin places. (For an  excellent article on thin places click here.). Disembarking from the ferry we headed toward the abbey. Mary has a hip that needs replacement so the walk was slow and sometimes a bit painful for her.

The Abbey as seen from the nunnery

Our first stop on the way to the Abbey - The nunnery. Women had a separate place to live and pray on Iona. The place has not been restored, but it at least being preserved as is. We could see the goal, but did not yet approach. Instead we decided to walk to the other side of the island. Saving the abbey for later.

Walking to the other side.

It is a small island and to walk to the other side was about 1.5 miles to get to the beach. Mary was game and we went at an easy pace. We had lots of time to catch up with each other, having been apart for about 6 weeks up until the day before. We also talked about what it must be like to live in such a place now and what it must have been like when St. Columba first arrived and started the Abbey.

Tidal pool on the beach.

When we arrived at the beach we took lots of time and photos. Mary grew up in Los Angeles and so the beach holds a special place in her heart. I walked out onto the rocks where the tide was currently out and peered into the tidal pools. It struck me that life grows everywhere it can. The gospel is kind of like that. There are places too hostile for the gospel for a time, but even those places are few. In this wild and windy place, in a puddle left by the receding tide, there were plants and animals making a living and witnessing the magnificence of God. Everything has a place; everyplace has the hope of life; every heart too has a hope. For those who cannot name the yearning but know it nonetheless, this pool can be their hope. It will be reunited with the sea when the tide rises again. Everyone can be reunited to relationship when they are ready.

Shadows on the ground means clear skies above!

As we made our way back to toward the Abbey the sun broke through the clouds. We celebrated and took photos of our shadows.  After lunch we made our way deliberately for the abbey. There is so much I could scribble about this place. St. Columba or Colm Cille (Church Dove) arrive in 563 to build a  community of Christian believers. With electricity and cell service available most places on the island it is hard to picture the wildness of the place 1500 years ago. The chunk of civilization that Columba brought was distinctly monastic, Christian and Celtic.

View from inside the cloisters.

The monastery fell into disrepair for a long time, but was rebuilt/renewed starting in 1938 when Rev. George MacCleod founded a new community there. In the last 80 years it has become a huge focus for modern Celtic Spirituality and music.  One more interesting note - the Book of Kells was written here; that book now lives in Dublin.

A high cross in the front of the Abbey.

This sacred space in this wild place is such a remarkable testament to the faith of Christians. The abbey was a training ground for missionaries that went into Northumbria to bring Christianity to the Anglo Saxons. Eventually Vikings raided and drove off the Christians for a time, but they too converted to Christianity. Through the centuries many Scottish kings and chiefs  have been buried here as they also recognized its special thinness.

The abbey from on top of Dun I.

Above and behind the Abbey is a hill - Dun I. I took the opportunity to climb it. No simple easy path leads to the top. It is also a bit wild with some treacherous spots. It was meditative to go up. My whole life has been a series of approaches and departures from the presence of God. As the years have unfolded there have been times when the going was easy and the view was clear. There have also been times that the journey has been hard and the point was invisible. Reaching the summit, was great. I could see so clearly the whole of the island. It was a beautiful day for the climb. There are times in my life when for a moment everything makes sense, the path I have followed is suddenly clear and comprehensible. I feel as close to God as is possible for me to feel. Unfortunately that time is fleeting as is the time on top of the mountain.

Cows near the abbey

Coming back down and returning to the Abbey to get Mary for the trip back, I passed by two highland cattle lounging in the sun with the abbey in the background. What a perfect end to the walk. Spirituality and lofty ideas are lovely. It is great to spend time apart; to spend time in prayer and contemplation. But life is lived in a place where others also live. It is lived where there are cows and cow poo. It is lived in the reality that God made us of flesh and intended for us to live with all that entails. I know I am weak and fallible. I also know that God loves me as I am. I have been close to that love. This thin place will always sing in my heart the song of a God that is magnificent and generous and has given me so much. These questions will remain; how to sing that song when I get home? How to sing that song the rest of my days?