Pilgrimage to Iona

Though it is only three miles long and a mile wide, ever since the Celtic saint Columba set sail from Ireland in the 6th century and landed by chance on this Hebridean island, Iona has been a place of pilgrimage, acclaimed by pilgrims and islanders alike as a "thin place" where the spiritual and material realms come together and the presence of the divine is especially felt. This was certainly our experience as well. The journey alone adds to the sense of expectation-- to get there from Glasgow we had to take the train to Oban, a ferry to the Island of Mull, a bus across Mull, and then another ferry to Iona.

The 12th century Benedictine Abbey, built at the end of the Celtic period to assert Rome's hegemony over the British isles, was abandoned during the Scottish Reformation, though pilgrims still made the long journey to sit in the Abbey ruins, drawn both by its history and beauty. In 1938, George MacLeod, a Church of Scotland minister (that's Presbyterian, for those of you who haven't studied your Reformation history), pastor of an inner-city church in Glasgow, proposed a rebuilding of the Abbey, both to provide employment to out-of-work laborers in Glasgow, and as a training ground for young ministers to work in the growing industrial areas of Scotland. It took them 40 years. In the process, the Iona community emerged as a place of pilgrimage, study, work and prayer, where a deep spirituality is forged with an equally deep commitment to social justice. For the past several decades, since the reconstruction was completed, pilgrims-- both clergy and lay, seekers and skeptics-- have come each summer to live for a week within the Abbey walls, joining in the experience of community, with shared work, worship, prayer, study and reflection led by a small staff and a somewhat larger group of summer volunteers (mostly college students), along with guest leaders who lead the group in discussion and discernment related to the role of the church in the world. In the 1980's a second building, the MacCleod Center, was built just up the hill, to house additional guests, and host a second program.

The focus for our week at the Abbey was poverty and the local congregation, led by Kathy Galloway, who is leader of the Iona Community, and Naill Cooper, co-director of Church Action on Poverty, which is based in Manchester. Unlike our week at Taize, where adults my age where in the minority, this week we were all over thirty. (Alas, except for the volunteer staff, Kelsey was the only teenager.) The group consisted of about 45, mostly from the UK, although there were other Americans, as well as Canadians and Australians (all were native English speakers). Several were clergy (mostly Church of Scotland, Presbyterian or UCC).

The pattern of our day was somewhat similar to Taize. We gathered for breakfast in the refectory (the food was much better!), followed by worship in the Abbey Church, work assignments (Kelsey washed the first floor bathroom sinks and mirrors; I mopped the refectory stairs), and then we gathered for the remainder of the morning with Naill and Kathy for our "programme." Following lunch we had free time or an optional activity. There was worship again each night at 9 p.m.

Though substantively different in form and style than Taize, worship at Iona was equally wonderful. The music was led by a gifted song leader who would teach several simples hymns and chants before the service began, quickly taking the 100 or so first-time worshippers and forming them into a choir. Our Abbey group of 45 was joined by the group staying at the adjacent MacLeod Center (where they focused their week on spirituality, sexuality, and the church's welcome to the GLBT community), along with several dozen other visitors on the island (in addition to the Abbey and MacLeod Center, the island has several hotels and hostels). Though there were still periods of silence, and lots of wonderful singing, the Iona worship also included more spoken prayers, along with scripture readings and congregational responses. There was a sermon Sunday morning as well our final evening; otherwise, the services consisted of songs, prayers, and readings.

It's hard to describe exactly the atmosphere for worship. On the one hand, were were gathered in a 12th century abbey church, illuminated by candles as well as a few electric lights, giving the church a mystical quality. Yet the worship was warm, inviting, and participatory, and the tone was casual. (To Kelsey's delight, the music leader, Gillian, led worship the first evening dressed in bright green pajama pants, with red sneakers!). The worship order was traditional, yet the prayers and content consistently focused on contemporary concerns of the world (as one long-time volunteer put it, people often come to Iona seeking peace and quiet-- they leave seeking peace and justice).

Two afternoon activities stand-out: On Tuesday afternoon, we went on "Pilgrimage," walking as a group to several different sites on the island, led by the Abbey "warden," a Methodist minister on three-year assignment. At each stop, we would be told a bit about the history of the site, read a passage from scripture, sing a song, and reflect about our own spiritual journey (e.g., at the island crossroads, we reflected on crossroads in our own life; at the beach, we were invited to find a stone and throw it into the sea, symbolizing all the things we would like to leave behind-- then we were invited to pick up a stone to keep, symbolizing all the things we would like to take with us). I found myself wondering if we could adopt a similar pilgrimage route in DC for our own pilgrim groups!

On Wednesday afternoon we took a boat trip to the uninhabited island of Staffa, about an hour away. The island has a high bluff with wonderful views, unique rock formations unlike anything I have ever seen, including a cave, and is teeming with wildlife, most notably puffins. On the boat we also saw seals and dolphins.

Working, eating, cleaning, praying, singing, hiking, playing with the same small group of people all week creates a strong sense of community (which, of course, was the point). By the end of the week both Kelsey and I felt very close to the other participants. One night a group of us went down to the local pub (Kelsey just had water!). Another night they had Scottish folk dancing, called a "caleigh," and another they had a community talent show (the word "talent" used somewhat loosely). We were somewhat wistful when the week finally came to an end. As we met the ferry, the entire staff came down to the dock to see us off.

The day we left, we picked up a rental car in Oban and drove north further into the Highlands, stopping at Glenfinnin (where the "Hogwarts Express" makes it's journey), passing by Ben Nevis (Scotland's tallest mountain), and then spending the night in a castle south of Loch Ness. The next day we drove around Loch Ness, and then down to Edinburgh, where we met my brother and a friend. Sunday morning, we worshiped at St. Giles Cathedral (where John Knox forged the Scottish Reformation), and then spent another day and a half exploring Edinburgh before making our way home Tuesday. (Worship at St. Giles, by the way, was everything that Iona was not-- stuffy, elitist, and somewhat boring; the only part that Kelsey liked was the choir, which was lovely, and the sermon, which was short). The weather in Edinburgh was drab and rainy, but we enjoyed soaking up the history and the sampling the local food (we even tried haggis on our last night there-- and we actually liked it!).

Now we are home, weary from jet lag, and glad to be reunited with Cheryl and Andrea. I'm home for a week before my last trip, where Cheryl and I will join her father and his wife for several days in San Francisco and northern Sonoma County. I may not blog about that trip, but I will send one final blog, reflecting on this entire incredible sabbatical experience.

Report from France

Andrea and I are now back in Paris after a week in Taize enjoying the beautiful countryside of southern Burgundy. We drove from Chartres yesterday, where we spent the night, and this morning we took the train to Versailles, both of which were amazing. Tomorrow we are going to the Louvre and the Musee D'Orsay, with a walk in between along the Champs Elysees. Thursday Andrea flies home, and I fly to Glasgow where I meet up with Kelsey before we head to Iona.

We had an incredible experience in Taize. We rented a car and drove from Paris, which was about a three and a half hour drive. We stopped for a wonderful lunch in a cute little restaurant in a small town after we got off the highway-- which was a good thing. The accommodations were comfortable-- both of us were in small dormitory rooms with bunk beds-- but the food was, shall we say, not quite up to the French culinary standards one might expect. We were glad to have a car so we could escape for a couple of hours each day and drive to one of the nearby towns or wineries; more than once we played hookie from dinner and enjoyed the local cuisine.

This was a low week at Taize-- only about 1,000 people (probably 800 under that age of 30). At peak they can have as many as four or five thousand. (The universities in Europe don't get out until next month). We were divided into age groups (29 and under; over 30), and assigned a dormitory and work detail. The basic schedule of the day was morning prayer at 8:30 followed by breakfast; morning Bible study or work detail; mid-day prayer followed by lunch; then afternoon Bible study, small groups, or work detail. Finally, dinner was at 7 p.m., followed by evening prayer at 8:30. (I figure in one week Andrea made up for two years' worth of missing church while she was at Simon's Rock!) There was about three or four hours a day of free time.

Prayer was exactly as you might expect if you have experienced a "Taize-style" service in the U. S.-- there are lots of chant-like songs sung over and over, many with a cantor part or descant. We sang in many different languages-- Latin, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, and English. Some songs had parts you could sing simultaneously in more than one language. We sat on the floor in a large, open sanctuary, filled with candles and icons. Most people sat on the floor. Some sat on kneelers. There were a few benches along the side for older people. The sanctuary was oriented toward the front, with a gently slopping floor, with large yellow and orange banners, like shafts of light or flames of fire, and a small altar filled with candles at the front. Between the songs there were long periods of silence, readings from scripture, and prayer. No sermon. Each morning they distributed consecrated bread and wine. On Sunday only they celebrated the Eucharist. There were several large LCD monitors that told you what song you were singing. Other than that there were no instructions or announcements of any kind. You simply followed along with those around you. Some of the songs were familiar, most were new to us. By the end of the week, we knew them all almost by heart. I'm not sure I am ready to ditch the Reformed tradition with our sermon, but the experience of this simple prayer and song was very effecting.

The young adult and older adult Bible study worked pretty much that same way. One of the brothers from the community (there are about 70 brothers in all) introduced a text, along with some commentary, to a large plenary session. There were maybe 200 older adults in all; the youth were divided into groups of about 150. Then you were further divided into small groups of about 7 to 15, according to language. The brothers led the plenary in English, with translation in various parts of the room into other languages.

Andrea was assigned to clean the sanctuary, which they did every morning-- vacuuming, replacing the candles, etc., so her Bible study was in the afternoon. She was the only American in an English language group, which was fun and challenging at the same time-- the other youth were from Germany, Sweden and Brazil, and all struggled with their English. She really enjoyed being with them, and was very pleased with the entire experience.

My first morning at Bible study, Brother Luke was inviting people to say what country they were from. Germany was the largest group, but there were people from all over the world, including South America, Indonesia and Korea. When he got to the U. S., he asked what state we were from. I raised my hand and said I was from Washington, D. C. The person sitting next to me, who I had not yet glanced over at, put his hand on my shoulder-- and it was Rob Hardies, Pastor of All Souls Unitarian Church, one of my closest colleagues in the Washington Interfaith Network and a great friend. I knew Rob was in Europe too on sabbatical, but had no idea he was going to Taize-- and of course no idea he would be there the same week! What a small world.

Rob and I both joined the Spanish language group to practice our Spanish. This was great fun. There were two people from Spain (one of whom had completed PhD work at the University of Pittsburgh, so was the Spanish translator for the Bible study), and a Spanish speaking woman who lives in Switzerland, a Roman Catholic priest from Argentina, a woman from Brazil who spoke Portuguese (there was no Portuguese group, so ours was the closest), and-- believe it or not-- an Eastern Orthodox Monk from Bulgaria, who joined our group because no one else spoke Bulgarian (or whatever it is they speak there), and Spanish was his next best language! Plus me and Rob from the States-- a very interesting group. (Rob was only there for about half the week, so for the second half I was the only American, and the only Protestant).

The Bible studies were pretty straight forward, with reflection questions afterward inviting participants to reflect on their own lives. These had the dynamics I have experienced before where you are very intimate with complete strangers-- in part because they are complete strangers that you can open up to and then never see again. By the end of the week you felt very close. I enjoyed their company immensely, and was very pleased with the opportunity to practice my Spanish with a theological vocabulary. To do so in the south of France was somewhat bizarre.

Except for Friday and Saturday there was no diversion from the daily routine. Friday night they laid a large icon of the crucified Christ on the floor and at the end of the service people came forward in groups and knelt in front of it, placing their foreheads on the cross. Then on Saturday night, at the end of the service, they lit candles to celebrate the resurrection. Except for these two changes, the services were the same each day.

It will be some time before I can completely process the experience, but I have a few preliminary thoughts. Part of the power of Taize is how little they say, how little they do, and how non-directive it is. The songs, the prayers, the Bible study, the small groups, are all pretty much what you make of it. It is almost totally opposite of the American Evangelical camp-meeting where you are harangued into thinking or believing or feeling or doing a certain thing. Here it is very gentle, and the model of the Brothers' own lives is really the only example. They make clear that from the beginning, when Brother Roger (the founder of Taize) harboured Jewish refugees during the Nazi occupation of France, that the life of prayer and the pursuit of justice and peace are deeply intertwined. How you work out that connection in your own life is up to you. There was nothing in the entire experience that came even close to any kind of judgement. The culture wars of the U. S. church were completely absent.

A second aspect of the Taize's appeal is its international character. There simply are few others places in the world where you have an opportunity to worship and reflect with Christians from so many parts of the world. For both Andrea and me this was the most powerful part.

We also realized that for many of the young Europeans, this was like summer church camp. It was expensive for Andrea and I to get there, but not for them. Taize is really cheap-- about $100 a week for youth. Certainly for the young Europeans part of the appeal of Taize was simply being away from home for a week with other young people their age. Andrea met a lot of young people who were not really very church related, and really seemed to have no idea what they were up to when they arrived. I imagine for some of them it was a life changing experience, and for others just a pleasant week spent with friends.

It was been really fun to travel with Andrea. We had so much fun driving through small towns and finding places to stop and look around-- the 17th century chateau in Cormatin, the 12th century Abbey in Cluny, the Cathedral in Chartres-- and of course, the many wineries in the Burgundy country side. What a beautiful place to spent a couple of weeks.

Our hotel in Paris is probably the coolest place we have every stayed. It is the sixth floor walk up in the Latin Quarter, exactly one block from Notre Dame, which we can see from our window! Just walking around the neighborhood is a thrill. And, of course, there are restaurants everywhere! (I am sure I have gained back every pound I lost in Guatemala, and then some!)

We've got another day, and a few more great meals to go before we leave on Thursday.