Going to Iona Just as I Am

For my last holiday of this year I decided to visit the last country in the UK that I haven't been to yet- Scotland. My trip included two days in the village of Stirling where Matt, another American Lutheran volunteer is working and then making the pilgramage to the island of Iona for another three days. It was an exciting adventure indeed.

Matt was one of the volunteers that I visited Israel with so we have gotten very close. I haven't seen him since we went on that adventure in February, so it was really good to see him again and catch up. Matt is working with a Baptist Church right in the center of town doing mostly youth work and music ministry. He has been challenged by his job in many ways (in some similar ways to how I have been challenged with my job in London), so it was wonderful to converse about the various experiences we have had and share support and encouragment. Matt has an incredible sense of humor and I knew I wouldn't stop laughing the whole time I was in Stirling. My holiday got off to a great start when Matt invited me to come a long with him to a bible study that he puts on with his youth every Monday night. In order to get to where the session was being held, we had to bike across the village which didn't seem like a big deal. Matt's host father kindly lent me his bike which looked like a very nice race race bike. It, however, didn't really turn out to be in very nice condition since I later learned that Matt's host dad hadn't ridden it in about a year. The tires were flat, the brakes didn't really work, and I couldn't figure out how to change gears. "Let's go!", said Matt as he hopped onto his bike and rode away. "Alrighty!", I said as I hopped onto this not-so-much-in-working-order contraption. As soon as I got on, I realized that the tires were completly flat........then as I rode acouple feet I realize that I was in the hardest gear and couldn't switch out of it.........and then I rode another couple feet and saw that there was a vehicle infront of me which I couldn't stop for because of the less-than-optimum brakes. As Matt describes it, he turned around to see me literally bump into the back bumper of a car and then systematically fall over. "I've never seen somthing so hilarious in my life!!", he exclaimed. Needless to say, I never heard the end of this event and honestly could not stop laughing at myself for it. I'm definelty going to be more careful with a foreign bike next time!

After the two days in Stirling Scotland and finding all about William Wallace (yes, Sitrling is the CENTER for William Wallace and Scotland Independence.....too bad I couldn't find the movie Braveheart before I came), I made the big adventure up to Iona. Iona is a small island off the western coast of Scotland (it's only about 1 sq. mile large). The village on the island called Belle Mor'e only has a population of about 150 people. Even though it is quite small, this island has a history which is quite large. In the 6th century, St. Columba traveled over from Ireland and started a monastary here. It was this monastary that provided a stepping stone for Christianity to spread into Scotland. The island is perhaps the center of celtic cutlure and ruins in the Scottish countryside. It contains graves, monuments, and carvings that are quite spectacular and which illuminate the ideas and thoughts of the early Celtic Christians.

To get there is still a long journey even in 2008. One must take a train all the way to the northwestern Scottish coast to a village called Oban (which is about a 9 hour train ride from London). Then, one must hurry onto the ferry which takes you to the very scenic island of Mull. You must then get off and buy a ticket from a Scottish driver whom you can't really understand and get on an old, creeky bus for a 75 minute ride across the island. Once on the other side of Mull, you then get on another ferry (this one a lot smaller and a little more "rocky") for your final leg to the island of Iona. This entire journey only connects once a day which you have to research carefully otherwise you might be stranded on one leg of the adventure for a while. Luckily, I got there without much difficulty.

When one is traveling alone, you become more aware of the people around you. This is what was the most wonderful thing about the trip....meeting people that are as crazy as you to go to a dinky little island in the middle of the Atlantic. I met a wonderful reitred couple named Dale and Regina who were from Washington State and were just as taken with the scenery and culture as I was. Both were retired public school teachers who were very interested in music. When they heard that I too was a singer, they began to show me various songs that they and their community choir sing. "Let's sing somthing!", exclaimed Dale as he shuffled through some music that they had brought along. I dread to think what the Scots thought of three Americans on the ferry to Iona literally shouting the hymn "What Wondrous Love is This" over the engine noise of the boat. Even so, it really helped me to get into the spirit of coming to this remarkable place.

The old Abbey and surrounding buildings on Iona have been taken over by an Ecumenical Christian community called the Iona Community. Being very similar to a "Holden Village" in the United States, the Iona Community stresses peace, justice, and new ways of worship. The first night I was there, I heard the bells of the Abbey ring for Vespers at 9pm and decided to go. In this beautifully restored medeval church they had a long table set up in the front section. Everyone was invited to take a seat at the table and participate in communion. As the beautiful music rang through the great stonework of the church and as the minister blessed the bread and the wine, I was suddenly moved to tears. This was a place that was steeped in a thousand years of history and somehow graciously mixed it with a hopeful practice of the future. The island seemed to call to me in a real way saying "You are welcome here, just as you are." Even with my scratched up hands from my clumsy bike riding, my horse voice from my singing, and my tired spirit from working hard in London, I was accepted and "held" here. Many things came together for me that night at the table as I was taking communion. I felt extremly humbled and in awe. As I walked back to the village after the service, I looked up at the star lit sky and said a little prayer: "Thankyou God for getting me here saftley.......thankyou God for this beautiful place.....thankyou God for making me just as I am."