“The Body of Christ on Iona: Truth and Beauty”

(Psalm 19 and Luke 4:14-21)

          I’ll never forget an October evening years ago, when we were living in Maryland, and three year old Rebecca and I were driving home through a spectacular display of golden leaves – the brilliant blue of the sky setting them off just right, and beginning to move toward sunset.  I found myself moved to silence, rather than speech, as I tried to soak it in.  But little Rebecca found just the words: “Mommy, the clouds are saying Alleluia to me!”

          “The heavens are telling the glory of God,” is how the psalmist puts it. Surrounded as we are with natural beauty here in Seattle, it’s easy to understand why he and Rebecca would say such things.  Many of us have had experiences in nature that have spoken to us of God’s glory.  We may even have particular spots outdoors where we feel most in touch with God (a favorite park or mountaintop, or that big rock by the lake at church camp).  In Celtic theology, these are called “thin places,” places where the divine and created worlds seem to draw especially close.  The tiny island of Iona, off the west coast of Scotland, is, for many, such a place.

Though it draws pilgrims from around the world, Iona is surprisingly difficult to reach.  Once you make it as far as the coastal town of Oban by bus or train, you still have a ferry ride, another hour long bus ride, and a second ferry ride ahead of you before you arrive at an island that is perhaps 2 or 3 times the size of Green Lake.  But anyone who’s been there will tell you even the bumpiest of bus rides on single lane roads is well worth it, for what strikes you as you arrive are almost heartbreakingly beautiful views.  Surely the heavens declare the glory of God on Iona – as do its wildflowers and beaches and craggy rock hills.

That same sense of physical beauty pervades the island in other ways too – in the old ruins of Christian communities that lived on Iona many centuries ago, in huge stone Celtic crosses, and above all in the Abbey Church itself.

The island’s Christian history dates back to St. Columba’s arrival from Ireland in 563 AD.  Gathering around him a community of followers, he used the tiny island as their home base as they spread the gospel throughout Scotland.  (I found this hard to understand, since Iona is so remote. But it was explained to me that it was far simpler in those days to travel by boat, than across land.  So the water that completely surrounds Iona actually made it a perfect spot to launch this early missionary movement.)  At any rate, much later, in the 13^th century, a Benedictine Monastery was established on Iona, and shortly afterwards, a Nunnery.  These are the buildings that form the major part of the historic sites on Iona today.

Though these pilgrimage points would be impressive enough, there is also far more to Iona than its ancient Christian past.  The contemporary Iona Community is an ecumenical Christian movement, founded in 1938 by George MacLeod, minister, visionary, and prophetic witness for peace.  Its original task of rebuilding the monastic ruins of Iona Abbey became a sign of hopeful rebuilding of community in Scotland and beyond.  Today the community has about 250 members in Britain, with 1500 Associate Members and 1400 Friends worldwide.  (The rebuilding project continues even now, by the way – in a couple of our slides you’ll see scaffolding up near the roof of the Abbey Church.)

I selected Luke 4 as our second lesson this morning because the Community that lives and worships at Iona Abbey is deeply committed to living out the same kinds of priorities Jesus outlined in his big debut at the synagogue in Nazareth. Things like trade justice, environmental stewardship, peacemaking, caring for the poor and the marginalized of the world are all issues that remain at the forefront of their mission together. So you can see how the beauty of the place itself doesn’t full account for Iona’s sense of holiness. There is a real substance to what is said and sung and prayed there.

Some of you may also heard of something called the Emerging Church movement in recent years?  One of its important characteristics is a devotion to what is called “ancient-future worship.” Rather than dismissing worship forms from past centuries as too dated to be helpful to contemporary Christians, the idea is to glean from the very best our ancient Christian traditions have to offer us, and then bring to those a contemporary twist. This is something the present day Iona Community has been doing since its inception in the 1930’s.  Iona’s worship resources are known around the world for the beauty and candor with which they bring together ancient traditions and a piercing relevance to our modern world.

On a more personal note, it’s amazing how many memories we brought home with us from just two nights on this small island.

One we like to remember as our own little healing miracle.  Alina suddenly became quite sick on the ride over from Oban.  By the time we arrived on Iona, even though it was only about 2 in the afternoon, we had to tuck her right into bed.  She wasn’t able to eat anything all that day, her fever climbed above 102, and she couldn’t lift her head from the pillow, much less leave the room.  We fell asleep that Saturday night resigned to the idea of only a couple of us making it over to worship at the Abbey church the next morning – which was all of about 50 yards away (so close and yet so far).  Not to mention being pretty worried about how we were going to take care of our sick little girl so far from home. Since she wasn’t sleeping well, I took her out to the hotel lounge around 4 am, to lie down on one of the sofas and watch the sun rise through enormous picture windows.  Within those next thirty minutes, as the sky grew lighter, she began to brighten too.  I have a beautiful photo of her – all tousled hair from her uncomfortably restless night – peeking out over the top of the sofa at the sunrise with a perfectly content expression… An hour later, she was bouncing around ready for breakfast… A few hours after that she was bounding up the center aisle of the Abbey church to claim her maracas with the other kids for the opening hymn.  Chalk it up to a quirky 12 hour germ if you like; I’ll remain grateful for whatever it was that perked her back up in that “thin” place, and that holy moment.

Other things, though smaller, stand out in our memories as well. Children standing at the doors of the Abbey Church following worship holding baskets of oatcakes, inviting everyone to take one and split it in half, to share with someone they don’t know.  An elegantly simple way to practice hospitality and build community.

As we walked further out into the courtyard, a rainbow of plastic kids cups greeted us – reusable rather than disposable, in keeping with Iona’s commitment to environmental stewardship – and what made it so visually striking was that they sat all in a row on a several-hundred year old stone wall in the ancient cloister (you’ll see the cloister wall around the courtyard in one of the photos as well).

          As for the service itself that Sunday?  There were a handful of times through our sabbatical travels this summer when we really wished the whole WPC family could worship with us. Nowhere was this truer than on Iona.  We kept thinking – if only we could bring back for you what we experienced there.  So it was a great treat for me after service to hobble on my crutches across the path to the Community bookstore and realize – to a certain extent, we actually could!  (Rebecca gets major points for waiting with her broken-footed mother while I scoured the entire worship section, and then valiantly carrying back to our hotel a huge load of books and CD’s. Plenty of Iona influences in word and song will continue turning up in worship here this year, thanks to Rebecca’s patience – not to mention her upper body strength!)  The song “Freedom is Coming” from last week’s service was one such souvenir, and you’ll hear a couple more songs with our slides in just a moment.

So stay tuned for more from Iona in the weeks and months ahead.  Meanwhile, though, we felt the best gift we could bring home for you was for me to stop talking about the beauty of the place – and simply let you soak it in for yourselves. Alleluia-singing clouds and all.

          So we have saved all of our slides for the end of the sermon today, and will accompany them with some of the music we brought back.

Watch, listen, and enjoy – as the beauty of Iona prompts us all to praise. [slide show of Iona scenery, accompanied by music from Iona Abbey]