Iona, crossroads of the world

Today was my first full day wandering around Iona since I arrived yesterday afternoon, and the weather did the usual Scottish weather thing -- it was grey, it was blue, it was partly cloudy, it rained, it was sunny.  I waited until there was something of a break in the clouds before venturing out, and to my delight, I ran into my friend Becca.  She and I made plans to meet with our friend Jann for tea later, and off I went, checking out all my favorite little shops.

Finding myself a bit hungry, I headed towards the Iona Heritage Centre for a sandwich, and since there were no free tables, I invited myself to sit at a table with a young man with his head in a book. Soon a young woman joined us, and it turned out that she and he had met the day before on the ferry. Before long, the three of us were deep in conversation about all sorts of things, not just talk about the weather or how good our food was, but real things, matters about which we were passionate.  We found much in common, despite the difference in our ages and nationalities (she was German; he was Dutch; they were both in their thirties.)  We reflected on the virtues of travel and how it opens one's mind up and broadens perspectives, how it frees the spirit to move beyond the narrow boundaries of what is familiar and ordinary.  I marveled at the freedom they both had in picking up and moving their tents whenever and wherever they liked, and they expressed admiration at my choice of venue for my sabbatical.  The young woman asked a lot of questions about Methodism and seemed genuinely interested in my research questions/ideas/dreams.  She grew up Roman Catholic and seems to be looking for a way to live out her Christian faith in a different way.  I told her I'd be keeping her in my prayers, and we hugged as we parted.  Our Dutch friend had already hurried away to catch a ferry, but his insights into the spirituality of place, especially as it relates to the more remote nooks and crannies of Scotland were thoughtful and interesting.

Every time I come to this wee island off the west coast of Scotland, I meet people or re-encounter people who have a message for me, a word or perspective I need to hear, or a challenge to an accustomed way of thinking about something.  Every time I come here, I am reminded that the seas were once the great highways of the world and that small islands like this one were remote in one sense but in another sense were the crossroads of the world.  From the ancient druids about whom little is known, to the Irish monks and the Vikings who brutally murdered them, this has been a place where diverse peoples have found themselves, a place where thousands of visitors still come each year in search of something.  I don't know whether my two new friends have found some of the answers they are seeking on Iona, but I feel certain that this place will continue to shape their questions and in turn, perhaps lead them on towards the One in whom our hearts find rest and hope and peace.