Decompressing to Iona

We boarded the ferry this morning and a light rain threatened to keep us indoors for the 45 minute crossing to Craignure, but luckily the sky cleared and we were able to head to the top of the boat to take in the scenery. By the time we reached Mull it was downright sunny and the day just got progressively better from there. The bus ride across the one lane road that traverses the island (the one closest to the turn off has to do the backing up) showcased the raw multi-hues-of-green beauty of Mull. In Fionnophort, we got our first glimpse of Iona and a short ten minute ferry was the final link to our longed for destination. We were greeted by staff and volunteers who loaded

up our luggage and then, like ancient pilgrims, we walked the last half mile up the hill to the Abbey and McLeod Centre. It was every bit as beautiful as I had remembered it from my stay two years ago, only this time around I had other friends to share the journey with. Tea and shortbread awaited us at the Mac, and after a short orientation, a group of us headed off down the lane past fencerows, sheep, cows, gardens and rocky outcroppings on our way to the North Beach. Not quite as brave as our Dutch companions who took a chilly dip in the frigid waters, we nonetheless enjoyed a little sand between our toes, waves crashing into the

rocks and the colorful stones that lined the water’s edge. So many in our group have commented how each stage in our journey has opened us up a little more fully to the holy and removed us even further from the frenetic pace that we live in and accept as “normal” most of the time. Roger commented that the experience has been like “decompression stops” on a scuba dive, an apt metaphor for what we have experienced. One of the real gifts of Iona is time and sacred space; unsurprisingly, living in God’s present and presence was the theme of our evening worship.Having only been here

for a matter of hours, I am reminded again of why so many people have long considered Iona a thin place – a place where heaven and earth meet and the line is wonderfully blurred. It is difficult to capture fully in words, but there is a holy hush, an ancient grounding and an enveloping presence on this island. What a deep simmering joy has been welling up in me all day as I have watched Iona begin to cast its sacred spell on my fellow BUMC travelers.