Snow at Aston University

Snow pics

 

Iona Images

I've not had time to add much to the blog as the end of sabbatical has been so jam packed (not sure that's really the idea!) anyway here are a few extra images from Iona some for their beauty others for the beauty of the moment in my mind still unpacking the whole experience!

 

Iona - A Thin Place

I have recently returned from an amazing visit to the beautiful Island of Iona. Iona is located off the western edge of Mull and getting to it is an experience in itself! I have visited Iona twice before, both occasions becoming very important moments on my faith journey. This time we went as a whole family and travelling so far took some planning and organising, in order to get train and ferry connections it also meant a stop over in Glasgow (see previous blog post). Finally we arrived on the Island where we were welcomed by members of the resident community who live and work in the Abbey and MacLeod centre which are run by the Iona community. 

The founder of the Iona community George MacLeod described Iona as a 'thin place where only a tissue paper separates the material from the spiritual'. When I first visited the Island, some twenty years ago, I didn't really believe that any particular place was 'more spiritual' than any other (and in many ways I still don't) however when I first stepped foot onto the Island something felt different - there was certainly a sense of peace which was overwhelming and a feeling that God was especially close. The Celtic description of 'thin places' is something I find helpful because for me it describes that sense in which there can be places where we can connect with God more easily (I'm still not sure I believe that a place in and of themselves are any different though). 

For me what makes Iona so special is not just its stunning natural beauty or its historical significance (its the place St Columba arrived marking the spreading of Christianity to many parts of the UK and the final resting place for many ancient rulers including Macbeth!) nor is it simply about the ongoing life or prayer on the site over so may years.These are important but for me what makes it so 'thin' is what is continued to be created by the life and work of the Iona community, where work/prayer & life are held so closely together. The welcome and hospitality are central to that sense in which its possible to tap into the presence of God but unlike many retreat centres or religious communities the focus for those who go to stay at the Abbey or 'Mac' Centre is about forming community for the time you are there. On Iona you are not a 'visitor' or 'guest' in the life and work of the Abbey but are centrally part of its community. Those who come to Iona for a 'holiday' are in for a shock for there aren't people there to serve you ... well there are but at times you are expected to be one who serves too. The natural pattern of work, prayer, space, sharing are part of that sense of being community for that brief time. Iona for me is about the holistic nature of faith and life which I think plays into the 'thinness of the place'.

It has led me to think how I 'carry thinness' or help to create 'thin spaces' for others. Its led me to consider how my life/work/prayer can be more holistic and what affect my faith has on all my life.

There is so much more I could and (maybe will say) but for now a Celtic blessing:

Deep peace of the running wave to you,

of the flowing air to you,

of the quiet air to you,

of the shining stars to you,

of the son of Peace to you.

Glasgow stopping point.

On our way to Iona we stopped in Glasgow, a city I've visited a few times; including a weekend reunion following my first visit to Iona 20 years ago. - I still can't really believe I went all the way from Portsmouth to Glasgow just for a weekend (guess it shows how important my first Iona experience was for me).

Glasgow along with Birmingham and places like Liverpool has the kind of reputation that doesn't mark it out as a great tourist destinations or as a places on a must see list. But as with my experience of life here in Brum and my brief visits to Liverpool if you take time to make you own mind up you will discover something very different...

We only had a brief stop in Glasgow on the way up and way back from Iona but on both occasions I was struck by the friendliness of the city's people (certainly not the stereotype you get in the media) and the wonderful architecture of such a diverse city. We visited the the Lighthouse an amazing centre for design and architecture hosting amongst other things an exhibition highlighting the brilliance of Rennie Mackintosh as well as an amazing viewing tower giving the kind of vista over the city which gives tribute to the eclectic style and shapes of the city. A stay in Glasgow gave that one last taste of urban life before the simpler ways of life in the community of a small island yet the wonder and vitality of life is visible in both contexts if we just take the time to see.

And finally a quote I stumbled across in the Lighthouse which reminded me of a parable a man once told of a sower and some seed - as someone who feels I spend much of my life in the action of sowing it spoke to me...

 

Formative places, formative people

It's been great during sabbatical to reconnect with many thing not least myself! I've had space and time to see friends and visit a few places that are special to me. I'm currently sat in a little room at Alton Abbey somewhere I've known and loved most of my life. I was reminded by one of the monks that when he first came to the community I was just 8; around that time I used to say when I grow up I either want to be a punk or a monk! My visits here go back to my early years and certainly its been a formative place for me. I sometimes joke to people I've spent about a year in a monastery just in little chunks... The community here have been a real formative presence on my life and my faith (especially those who have been here for many years including my adopted uncle 'Unc the Monk' as we affectionately call him). My upbringing in a low church Methodist family was broadened so much by this community whose worship and life is so different than that I saw week by week in my home church. There is much in the worship here which remains 'strange' to me by that I mean that which I do not own as my own tradition, yet it speaks to me and has affected my faith and life. Hospitality, unconditional love, humour, liturgy, order, silence...
   I have learnt and gained so much here and the monastic community have helped form me in the person I am (and continue to become).

Whilst staying here I've also taken the opportunity of heading to my home city Portsmouth for a brief overnight stay with a good friend and a meal out with two more friends as well. Geography makes it difficult to meet many of my friends regularly, a sadness of life in this transient life many people now live. The experience of returning to my home city is always a little odd not least because so much has changed (I sound old now). The familiarity of some key places remain though and as I drove and walked round the city memories and experiences welled up within me, the theatre on whose stage I used to perform, the pub where I went on the night of my 18th birthday, the church I attended, the house where I lived, the hill we used to sledge... The place and more importantly the people I knew have helped mould and shape me, just as our experiences through life continue to do, yet the Abbey and my time in Portsmouth have a particular importance for they were my 'formative years'. I don't think I realise how much I owe to them, as I sit and type my eyes are full with thankfulness. I'm sorry its taken me so long to return to the Abbey to stay, I know for certain it won't be as long till my next visit and Portsmouth's due another visit soon too!

Death.. the other side

Death... the other side

Part of the natural created order we live with is the cycle of life and death, we tend however to focus on the life bit (understandably). In Western Europe we try and ignore or at least not talk about death and I think our life and living is actually the poorer of it. 

As part of my sabbatical plans I had the idea of spending some time with some funeral directors, a large part of my work/ministry has been dealing with death but only really one aspect of it and certainly one side of preparation for funerals.... So today I've spent the day with a local independent funeral director company (not that many of them left, most are now part of big companies even if still trading under a 'family name'!) I've spent the day seeing the other side - not the eternal mystery of the life after this one but the other side of preparing to say farewell to those we have loved and the care of the final physical remains; our human bodies.

So today I've been with the dead in a very real sense, observing and in small ways assisting in the care and preparation for viewing/saying farewell and cremation (along with all the practicalities that go with the business - I didn't get put to work washing the cars!). I want briefly to pay tribute to the care and respect that is shown to those who are deceased. Having said that there are some aspects of death that are not dignified or pleasant (don't worry I'm not going into detail!) and if ever you meet a funeral director you will very likely discover a wicked sense of humour that helps them cope with these things. What I took particular note of today was the naturalness and ease with which the staff undertook their tasks. Death is naturally an important and close part of the their life but the reality is that it is for all of us, we just don't choose to admit it most of the time.

Some of the most moving, challenging and uplifting funerals I have had the privilege to share in have been from the Afro-Caribbean community, a community who seem to have a far healthier and natural understanding of the cycle of life and death. Death is something that is marked with great celebration and on the whole embraced. I'm not looking forward to dying, not many people are but my faith gives hope for life beyond this one and the knowledge that from death comes new life. I understand deep down that death is a natural process and nothing will stop that, I wonder if we embrace that more fully how much more we can live in the moment?