God Of The Uncharted Ways - A Virtual Pilgrimage 2/10

Welcome, Pilgrim, to Ancient Shores! After answering the call to the isles with St. Brendan yesterday, today our pilgrimage journeys towards Iona. We pause to acknowledge the ancient spiritual landscape of the Hebrides before witnessing the pivotal arrival of St. Columba, the "Dove of the Church," whose faith would ignite these islands.

Put on your headphones, click play, and head out for a 20 minute walk, or listen from the comfort of your favourite chair.

Music and sound effects from Pixabay

Transcript

Hello and welcome back to God of the Uncharted Ways.

Today on the second day of our Hebridean pilgrimage,

Our journey takes us from the open sea towards the sacred island of Iona.

But first,

We will pause to feel the ancient spiritual echoes of the land itself before witnessing the arrival of St.

Columba.

This journey is a precious opportunity to step away from the noise and busyness of our lives,

To quiet our hearts,

And to listen for the loving voice of God in new and ancient ways.

At the halfway point of our time together,

You'll hear a gentle chime.

This will be your cue to turn around if you're not walking in a loop.

So let's take a deep breath together.

Allow the rhythm of your steps to settle your spirit.

And let us begin.

Yesterday our journey began with a courageous push from the shore,

Entrusting our oarless coracle,

And our spirits,

To the divine currents.

Today,

That same unseen hand guides our vessel towards a particular shore.

In an island small in size,

But destined to cast a monumental spiritual shadow,

Iona.

Before we speak of the brilliant light that would shine from its shores through St.

Columba,

Let us honour the ancient echoes already present in these Hebridean isles.

As you begin your walk,

Let your imagination carry you to the Hebrides,

As they might have been in the centuries before Columba's arrival in 563 AD.

This is a land already old,

Already sacred in the hearts of those who dwell here.

With each step,

Imagine you are walking on earth that has felt the tread of human feet for thousands of years.

Perhaps you are on a faint track through wiry heather,

The ground a mix of peat and stone.

Feel the slight unevenness,

The resilience of the earth beneath your imagined Hebridean boots or sandals.

Picture the landscape,

Rolling treeless hills,

A pewter sea in the distance,

A vast sky overhead.

What colours dominate this ancient Hebridean palette in your mind's eye?

The deep greens,

The russets,

The greys,

The blues.

These are lands dotted with enigmatic standing stones,

Great circles like Kalanish,

Solitary sentinels on lonely headlands,

Burial cairns holding the bones of ancestors.

Imagine approaching such a place.

Feel the awe,

The mystery,

The sense of a spiritual boundary.

Picture the lichen-covered surfaces of these stones.

Their immense weight and silence.

These monuments whisper of a people deeply connected to the cosmos,

To the turning of seasons,

To the great mysteries of life and death.

Long before the Christian story arrived in its fullness.

Take a slow,

Deep breath.

Imagine inhaling air that feels charged with antiquity,

With the prayers and rituals of forgotten peoples.

Smell the peat smoke from a distant,

Unseen settlement,

The damp earth,

The wild herbs crushed underfoot.

As you exhale,

Let go of modern certainties.

Allow yourself to enter into a sense of wonder,

Of listening to what the land itself might be trying to communicate about those who sought God here in ages past.

Continue this immersive walking for the next several moments.

Let yourself become a pilgrim,

Not just in space,

But in time,

Connecting with the deep spiritual undercurrents of the pre-Christian Hebrides.

The Hebrides,

Then,

Were not a spiritual vacuum awaiting a spark.

They were alive with the primal sense of the sacred,

A testament to that innate human longing,

Which St.

Augustine would later articulate as,

You have made us for yourself,

O Lord,

And our heart is restless until it rests in you.

The great stone circles,

Aligned perhaps to sun and moon,

Speak of a search for order,

For meaning,

For connection to the divine powers that shaped their world.

The intricate carvings on later Pictish stones hint at complex mythologies and a rich inner life.

This was a land where the veil between worlds already felt thin,

A landscape that seemed to hold its breath in expectation.

While the specifics of their beliefs are veiled from us,

We can honor the sincerity of their search.

The Christian understanding that would arrive with Columba did not necessarily seek to obliterate all that came before,

But often to illuminate it,

To fulfill it,

To name the unknown God whom people had been worshipping in spirit.

The Spirit of God,

The creative Word,

Was present and active from the beginning,

Sowing seeds of truth and longing in human hearts.

Into this ancient,

Spiritually charged landscape,

In the year 563 A.

D.

,

Sailed a figure of immense consequence,

Columba,

The Dove of the Church.

Born into Irish royalty around 521 A.

D.

,

He was a scholar,

A poet,

A monk of fierce intellect and passionate,

If sometimes impetuous,

Faith.

The traditional story of his exile from Ireland is dramatic.

A dispute over the ownership of a copied psalter escalated tragically,

Leading to the bloody battle of Cúl de Rende.

Filled with remorse for the lives lost,

Columba,

As a self-imposed penance,

Vowed to leave Ireland and win as many souls for Christ as had perished in the battle.

So,

He and twelve companions set sail in a simple,

Hide-covered boat,

Navigating the wild northern waters,

Seeking a place of exile where he could no longer see the shores of his beloved Ireland.

That place,

Tradition tells us,

Was Iona,

A small,

Unassuming island yet destined for greatness.

Imagine that arrival,

The weariness of the sea journey,

The uncertainty,

But also the profound sense of divine calling.

Columba was not just fleeing a past.

He was stepping into a divinely appointed future.

He was a man on a mission,

A mission of repentance,

Of service,

Of bringing the light of Christ to lands still steeped in pagan tradition.

What does Columba's arrival speak to us today?

His story is a powerful reminder that God can take even our failures,

Our deepest regrets,

And transform them into something beautiful and purposeful for his kingdom.

His penance became a profound source of blessing.

Columba left behind a life of privilege and familiarity to embrace the unknown,

The challenging,

The uncomfortable,

All for the sake of the gospel.

Where might we be called to similar courage,

To step out of our comfort zones for a higher purpose,

Iona,

Though small,

Was strategically placed.

It lay near the sea routes and on the edge of the kingdom of the pits,

Whom Columba longed to reach.

Sometimes God calls us to seemingly small or insignificant places,

But they can become pivotal centers for his work.

Columba's arrival on Iona was not just a geographical landing.

It was the planting of a seed that would grow into a mighty tree,

Its branches spreading far and wide.

This was the true awakening of the Hebrides as a beacon of Christian light.

As our walk continues,

Feel the significance of such a moment,

When a life yielded to God meets a time and place prepared by God.

And now let us pray with hearts open to God's work in all times and his call in our own lives.

O God of new beginnings,

Lord of history and of hearts,

We marvel at the ancient echoes of spiritual longing in these isles,

And we give thanks for the dawning of your fuller light through your servant Columba.

Like him,

May we have the courage to leave familiar traces and familiar shores when you call,

To embrace penance with purpose,

And to seek your kingdom above all else.

Grant us vision to see the potential in the small islands of our own lives and ministries.

Transform our regrets into resolve and our uncertainties into opportunities for your grace to shine.

May your light dawn ever brighter in our hearts and through our lives for your glory.

Amen.

Once you're home and settled,

Here are some journaling questions you might like to work with.

As you imagined walking on land held sacred for millennia,

What feelings or thoughts arose?

How does connecting with such deep history impact your perspective on faith?

Reflect on a time in your life when a personal failing,

Disappointment,

Or exile was eventually used by God for good or led to an unexpected new beginning.

Can you identify a small island or seemingly insignificant area in your life where God might be calling you to plant seeds of faith,

Hope,

Or love?

Tomorrow,

We remain on Iona to explore how St.

Columba and his companions established their remarkable monastic community,

Its way of life,

And how it became a powerhouse for prayer,

Learning,

And missionary outreach.

And that brings our time to a close.

May you go in peace today,

Held in the grace of the God who calls you out upon the waters.

I look forward to welcoming you back here again tomorrow.

In the meantime,

Rest in his presence.

Go with God and be blessed.