In Columba's Footsteps

Tuesday is Pilgrimage Day at Iona, a prayerful journey around the island. Almost all of us opted for the seven mile off-road route which takes you through heather and bog, up steep rocky hills and down to bays and beaches, with gorgeous vistas at nearly every turn. The pilgrimage begins in front of the Abbey by the oldest standing cross on the Iona, St. Martin’s Cross. This cross dates to around 750 AD and its intricate stone carvings tell the story of salvation. It also speaks to the important Celtic Christian practice of worshiping outdoors and at one time there were probably 20 standing crosses on

the island (there are still four today). Unlike some places where Christianity attempted squelch the indigenous “pagan” religious practices of the people, Celtic missionaries sought to integrate them which resulted in a more earthy, native expression of faith.We next made our way to the Nunnery, which exists a little closer to town, and unlike the Abbey, has not been restored. The ruins here are a testament to a group of women, no less faithful than the monks, who sought to leave their mark for Christ in the world. It is a beautiful open aired space of ancient stones and tranquil gardens and we prayed both to honor the witness of these women and to work toward gender equality.

After about a fifteen minute walk on a stony path, we came to the crossroads of the island – not anything at all like Wisconsin & East-West Highway – and a spent a few moments thinking and praying about the crossroads moments of our own lives. This was also the decision point: the road would get much rockier, muckier, and steeper from here forward, so if anyone needed to turn around and head back to town, this was it. We all soldiered on. We trekked up a rather steep hill and eventually made it to the only “industrial” site on the whole island: a marble quarry that once produced the highly regarded Iona stone, especially in demand for church furnishings

(altar tables and fonts) as well as wash stands and larders, since the marble kept the cheeses and butters cooler. We stopped for lunch at St. Columba’s Bay, where in 563, Columba landed with his twelve followers from Ireland and established the first Christian monastery on the island. This community flourished for several centuries and over time, became one of the richest resource centers for Celtic Christianity, sending missionaries all throughout the British Isles and into other parts of Europe. This

community also produced the famous Book of Kells, one of the earliest English versions of richly illuminated Gospels. Some time before the Vikings drove the monks off of Iona in the early 10th century, the Book of Kells migrated to safety in Ireland (to the town of Kells, hence the name). At St. Columba’s Bay we participated in a ritual of hurling one of the beautiful stones into the water to symbolize letting go of some broken place from our past – a painful memory or a personal misdeed – and then taking up a different stone to mark this new beginning as we journeyed onward.

Making our way back down through the bogs and heather, passing Loch Staonaig (the only lake and one- time water source for the whole island) we came to the Machair or the public grazing land (also the golf course), where we were treated to a welcome bit of hospitality in the form of flapjacks (a chewy cross between an oatmeal cookie and Rice Krispy Treat) and tea. Sue Wells met up with us here and we enjoyed a short break overlooking the beautiful white sands of the beaches below us. We tromped through more fields and up several more hills, eventually made it to the Hermit’s Cell, a ring of rocks that may have been the foundation for a place of refuge for the monks. Even monks needed to get away from it

all and the challenge of living in such intense community all the time – Jesus and Columba both used the practice to great effect. We gathered on the green sod inside for a time of silent prayer and were reluctant to leave, both because of the stillness of the moment and the accumulated fatigue that was by now setting in. Soon the Abbey was back in sight and happily we made it down to St. Oren’s Chapel (which sits in the cemetery by the Abbey) for our concluding prayers. Weary and refreshed, we returned richer and fuller from our pilgrimage together. Dinner would be well-earned this night!