To Touch the Hearts of All

Over the last few days, my thoughts have turned to the island of Iona (off the western coast of Scotland) the Abbey and the Iona Community. As we continue to sort out what life is going to be like for the balance of 2020 and beyond, I have resonated with the Iona community owing its very existence to the continuing conviction that Christian community is not an abstract utopian vision, but is to be discovered , pursued and celebrated at street level and in the very midst of life. As one of the community’s prayers puts it, new ways are sought “to touch the hearts of all.” (Celtic Prayers from Iona, J. Philip Newell, page 93)

Unable to gather as a congregation for worship and other forms of ministry, this is our task at the present time: Seeking new ways to touch the hearts of all. Never did I ever give any thought that worship services would be pre-recorded and provided for viewing on Sunday mornings and neither did I ever imagine that Session Council and Diaconate meetings would be conducted via Zoom! Our children and youth in addition to the Youth Council continue to meet and communicate on a weekly basis by way of Zoom. The advantages of technology are helping us to stay connected.

And yet, I look forward to the day when we will be able to meet face-to-face. hear one another sing, lift our voices in prayer, share the peace, shake hands and embrace one another in the spirit of Christian fellowship. I would much rather dodge our children running through the hallways than do what I’m doing now, walking around from one space to another “in the sound of silence.”

Kay and I enjoyed an entire week on Iona last summer for which we are grateful. Following a few days in Edinburgh, we boarded a train for a 4 hour trip by rail to Oban where we spent the night. What a beautiful place. Oban is known as the Seafood Capital of Scotland and for its fine whisky. We couldn’t resist and tasted both. And then it was off to the Isle of Mull and a short ferry ride to Iona.

Last summer was our third visit, but the first by ourselves. For seven days we moved about at a leisurely pace, laid down in open fields and shared simple conversation, sat on the beach and read for hours at a time listening to the waves roll in and the seagulls sing. took long hikes and visited with the inquisitive sheep, picked beautiful flowers and wondered what this special habitat looked like centuries ago as monks made their living off the land and sea.

I am frequently asked why Iona is so special? And I would say that it’s more than the natural beauty and the rich history that surrounds Columba (563) and the Abbey. It’s the draw of Celtic spirituality and how George MacCleod described the island as a “thin place” where the veil is thin between this world and God’s. And this is what I now see as a major focus for the work and ministry that is conducted here at the Sea Island Presbyterian Church. In this period of change and transition, may we know that this is a “thin place,” too, where the veil is thin between this world and God’s. The Sea Island campus, her sanctuary and courtyard, the Columbarium and outlying meeting spaces, is a reminder that our faith in the risen Christ brings meaning and a sense of purpose to life.

In closing, allow me to let you in on a little secret. A cross made of walnut was carried to the Abbey last summer. Kay took a photograph of the cross on the Lord’s Table from where the Lord’s Supper has been celebrated by pilgrims from Africa, Antarctica, Asia, Austrailia, Europe, and North and South America. Literally millions. I then picked up the cross, stood on my tiptoes and placed it in a window sill located in the ancient chancel. The cross now rests behind a model of the ship that Columba used to sail from his home in Ireland to Iona in 563 AD. The cross is out of the eyesight of the public. Kay has a photograph of this, too. Why do I tell you this? Because I look forward to the day when Kay and I, and a number of Sea Islanders return. I hope to stand on my tiptoes one more time to see if the cross is still there. Everyday I think about that cross, a piece of Sea Island in the Abbey of Iona and with us who have been to this island, a piece of Iona at Sea Island for the sake of Christ and the Glory of God.

Evening Prayer from Iona
This day and this night, may I know, O God:
The deep peace of the running wave,
The deep peace of the flowing air,
The deep peace of the quiet earth,
The deep peace of the shining stars,
The deep peace of the Son of peace. Amen. +

—
Steve Keeler, Pastor