Chasing the wild goose (An Geadh Glas

      The Celtic image of the Holy Spirit is that of a wild goose.  No docile white dove for them, the noisy boisterous spirit of the wild goose captures their understanding of the Holy Spirit.  While the spirit may comfort us, it is also meant to disturb us, not to allow us to become to settled or comfortable in one spot.   Wild geese are at once beautiful and distressing.  They are noisy and call attention to themselves, often to their own peril, and on the other hand they are graceful in flight and powerful in their scope and prowess.

The publishing and resource arm of the Iona Community is call Wild Goose publishing.  Last week they had a gathering at the centres working with others on worship and liturgical resources.  And the intensity of their work and sessions was punctuated by the sudden and unexpected arrival of a gaggle of wild geese on the island.  They have literally honked their way into our hearts.  So on Wild Goose Resource  Group week, wild geese showed up with the spirit.  

      Amazing what the spirit is up to.  

Not simply enough to be leaving

     So you live in a place for two months, sharing virtually everything from living space to germs, and the time comes that you must move on to the next place.  It is not enough that you pack it all in and depart, you have created relationships, some of the younger ones serious relationships, and you must deal with those relationships.  Some deal with it by not dealing with it.  They slip off on the early ferry hoping against hope that no one will come by (not certain if it is an emotional thing, or they simply can't bear the thought of the embarrassing display of affection at the goodbyes.  I will not reveal what that is; you must come and experience it for yourself.  Some deal with it by getting all caught up in the emotion, in the goodbye, in the terminal status that this creates.  The leaving becomes the important part.  Some deal with it by focusing on what comes next; how you move on from this small piece of life to the next piece of life.  We make inquiries about what lies beyond Iona, and how soon you will make the plunge into the real world outside these tiny shores and sparkling waters.  Some have huge plans that carry them to other far flung places, but not quite as remote, before emerging in reality. Others, like me, will take a couple of days to renter society (let's face it, I have not dealt with keys or people I don't spend all my nights and days with in some time) and then plunge headlong into reality.

     But the big reality is that our time here on this tiny remote beautiful island is as real as it gets.  All of life is compressed into a week’s time frame; you meet strangers who will be close friends, perhaps companions by Tuesday, who you will have to say goodbye to on Friday morning. Chances are you will never see them again. So the larger aspect of reality is how has this effected/affected who you are in your real reality?  How can you live the words we offer each morning in worship? We will seek peace and pursue it.  We will not offer to God offerings which cost us nothing.  It is not simply that we are leaving, but are we leaving with sufficient change to impact in God like and significant ways the world that we will be living in.

That can become a thin place.

Caffeine addiction

     As you are aware I have a serious caffeine addiction. The other morning I had a particularly early start, so I began the day simultaneously having a cup of tea and coffee. Here on Iona we serve instant coffee, and as icky as that may sound, when in desperate circumstances you will drink anything for a fix.  

One of the young Englishman here uses a phrase that I intend to adopt -- proper coffee.  It is amazing the lengths you would go for a proper coffee.

The languages we speak

     One of the requirements of volunteering here is that you must be able to speak conversational English. So there are volunteers here from Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, Finland, Czech Republic, Sweden, England, Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland and the U.S.

     As you might expect you must speak a bit more deliberately and clearly with those with whom English is not a first language.  Although most that come literally come to have a place to practice their English, they are pleased to have others to speak in their first language.  Often we get into discussions of how words are used, and as what part of speech a word may be used.  Literally one day we were diagramming sentences on a white board, a skill that I thought would be as useful as algebra.  My favourite is the simple, descriptive phrases they use, for example one of my colleagues had witnessed a bit of a confrontation between two people, and said  “there was a bit of hot air between them."  Not how I may have said it, but spot on accurate.  Yesterday I took a bit of a spill in the kitchen, and ungraciously landed on my butt.  My friend asked "Are you alright or do I need to hold you?"  Not actually the correct phrase, but the sentiment was appreciated.  

     Interestingly enough there seems to be as much difficulty in understanding the various forms of accents among those whose first language is English.  The Scots words and accents from Glasgow and Aberdeen are particularly difficult for those unaccustomed to them in conversation.  One morning a friend said he was going to pop out for a quick fag, and the third person in the room was aghast.  "What did he say?" she asked.  While initially I was going to answer flippantly, I suddenly realized she had understood what he said; she did not understand what he meant.  "He's going to have a cigarette,” I responded.  So I have become a translator from English to English. My skills are not always needed, so I have to wait for sudden awkward pauses in conversations, and that is my cue that the hearer did not comprehend what the other English speaker has said.

      It has become a funny thin place.

Busy business of welcoming friends

     Much of the past several days have been in preparation for the welcoming of the members of the Iona Community.  For as often as we say goodbye, we say hello with the same frequency, but for the past couple of weeks it has been saying hello to old friends.  Last week was the worship resource group of the community here to work on different ways of worshipping together. Many of the people that attend that week have been here previously.  This week we welcome the people who have committed, or are in the process of committing themselves to the life and work of the community in the world.  So these are people that visit perhaps even more than once a year. It has a bit of the feel of our Annual or General Conference gatherings, although they don't seem to have the same governmental agenda we have.  But clearly this is a time when they come together after a lengthy separation, and include a time of introductions so each will know precisely who are in attendance.  If we had only sung "And are we yet alive," it may have seemed like home.  The theme of the week is "Gender Justice" and the workshops of the week will focus upon discussions in that area.

     They even have a special celebration, welcoming people who have newly committed to the ideals of the community, and of course, that celebration must include food.  So the two kitchens have worked for three or four days towards a huge luncheon, which was served across two centres.  Imagine having your main course in one place and walking (hiking) up the road for the dessert course.  Although the kitchen I work in was in the "dessert" centre, each kitchen worked on both courses, so there was much ferrying of food and serving utensils back and forth.  So it amounted to a very, busy and long day, but punctuated with the fun and hospitable nature of feeding and caring for others.  More than once through the day I was reminded of Jesus' feeding of the 5000 (we only served a little over 200), and how that worked not only because of the miracle of Jesus, but the preparation someone had gone into to pack a little child's lunch.

     This was a thin place.

Saying goodbye

   There are good byes and then there are goodbyes.  Today there were some of each.  A couple of good friends left the island today, one whom I had just met eight weeks ago, and the other who I met here two years ago.  I frequently worked with one, and shared sleeping quarters with the other.  One I am fairly certain I will see again, and the other is far more unlikely, yet possible.  We say good bye often on Iona.  Each Friday the guests that we have spent the week with say farewell.  This is occasionally difficult, because you really get to know people over the course of a week.  Sometimes it is very painful, as was the case of a five year old guest who was quite taken with one of the housekeepers.  He was heartbroken at the pending loss of their friendship. Sometimes it is a gift to see them go. On Wednesdays we say goodbye to our colleagues.  Early in the season this is less difficult, because you don't know the people very well, but as your time in service grows longer, so do the goodbyes.  This morning was a goodbye based at least on seven weeks.  

   It is a little slice of life, compressed into tiny week size packages.  Life is always about hellos and goodbyes.  And just like most of life here on Iona, it is exaggerated by the beauty of the place, the colors of the sky, the glistening of spirit that seems to drip from everything you do.  

   But there is a comfort in the fact that these are probably not true goodbyes, probably more likely they are "adieu" or at least see you later.  And while they may not make the absolute goodbyes less painful, they do give you practice for when they come.  Today I learned that a good friend is saying goodbye, absolutely, to his young daughter.  

   There are no thinner places. 

Piece of pottery in my heart

   To avoid picking up every rock on the island and attempting to bring it home (the lady in the post office will not let us mail rocks home), I have switched to pieces of sea pottery and sea glass.  They are light weight, and much easier to pack.  Although I will admit that there is a limit to how much of them you can put in your trouser pocket before the weight pulls it down.  I have decided to use them to make a cross for my wall of crosses in my entry way.  (I did want to find a piece of driftwood to use at the base, but that may be another post).  

   One of my roommates and dear friend was also collecting sea glass and pottery (sea pottery washed by the sea like glass, but it is shards of crockery).  She was collecting some for a family member who was making jewelry out of them.  And while it never escalated to a competition, it was fun to compare different pieces.  She ran into a bit of a dilemma has she tried to pack yesterday, and was running out of suitcase room.  Ultimately some of the less attractive pieces were left behind.    

   But for her leaving celebration she shared with us her pieces, and noted how they were all broken, yet beautiful.  Just like us.  How they were all destined for different purposes, still useful, although none of them whole.  Some were going to become ornaments, some jewelry, some reminders, but all had a new purpose completely different from the original intent.  

   How different are you from what you suspected might have been your original purpose?

   That could be a thin place.