Ioan - St Columba's Holy Isle

Part 2 - At Iona

In Part 1 there was a description of the pilgrimage of Rod and Barbara to Iona, in fulfilment of their promise to each other. The journey and return were elaborated. Part 2 reveals details of the island and the happenings there.

A small ferry took B and R across the mile-wide strait from Fionnphort on Mull to the jetty on Iona. It was a lovely sunny day and the isle looked splendidly rugged, with a prominent and sombre Abbey in the foreground. Nearby was a gaggle of small drab houses and signs proclaiming a couple of hotels. They were met by their host and taken about a mile inland to a white-clad comfortable home very near a hill called ‘The Hill of the Angel’. This, they were informed, was where St Columba had received a heavenly vision.

After settling in, B and R went down the track, over the machair (fertile grassland) southwards to St Columba’s Bay where the saint had landed from Ireland in the sixth century AD. As was customary, cairns placed on the stony beach were added to, and were accompanied in each case by a prayer. Later that day, an Irish Ceilidh consisting of a piper, a keyboard player and a drummer, played in the Restaurant of the Martyrs’ Bay. There was dancing and a glorious meal laid on.

The Cow only understands Gaelic

St Columba founded a monastery on Iona and from there much of the Kingdom of Dalriada was christianised. There was something of a setback when news of Synod of Whitby (AD664) came through. Prior to this a Celtic form of worship was used and the Synod demanded the Roman form. Much of the reverence today on the island still adheres to a Celtic tendency. Although prayer was pre-eminent, a great deal of thought was always given to community safety. This was with considerable justification for the religious shrines, crosses and buildings were sacked later by Vikings. St Columba’s prayer shows this preoccupation:

Alone with none but thee my God,
I journey on my way.
What need I fear when thou art near
O King of night and day.
More safe am I within thy hand
Than if a host around me stand.

There are no street lights on Iona and only four short roads. Much of the land is given over to sheep. Rocks and hills abound. Nowhere are there any fossils because the rocks are said to be much older than the appearance of life in any form - vegetable or animal. The hills appear formidable, being composed of sharp boulders. On the second day, B and R climbed the tallest hill - Dun I, and tried to negotiate the northern part of the island, coming across a pebble beach and then some sand. In trying unsuccessfully to find a way westwards they entered an extensive tract of marshy ground. Rod fell thigh deep into the bog, and Barbara’s response was merely to laugh. There was no way through to the west and the pair were forced to retreat, climbing Dun I again from the reverse direction. They were exhausted but very happy.

Research notes at the Nunnery

They attended services at the Abbey. A Eucharist was held, the celebrant being a female American minister. Some diversion from the expected liturgy was experienced and the rite involved offering the host (actual bread) and chalice, in an earthenware bowl, to one’s neighbour. Afterwards the congregation mingled in the cloisters to share experiences. Evensong consisted, rather alarmingly, of introductory short prayers followed by silence lasting a quarter-hour. Many found this uplifting but B and R were unsure of its benefit. On another occasion the couple attended a talk and presentation on the Iona Community, whose slogan is “Worship through work”. This had been most manifest in 1938 during the period of economic depression, when a great number of unemployed men reconstructed the Abbey as volunteers.

Staffa's fluted columns

Opportunity was taken on another day to visit the island of Staffa. A booking on Kirkpatrick’s clinker-built boat sealed the issue and a wonderful sea-trip northwards disclosed massive hexagonal basalt columns rising out of the water. It will be remembered that in 1829, the composer Felix Mendelssohn was so enchanted by the sight of Fingal’s Cave on the island, that it gave rise to his famous Hebrides Overture. Fingal (the Scottish version of Finn McCaul) was a giant of mythology, who was supposed to have built the causeway which extended from Northern Ireland, under the sea, and which emerges on Staffa. The cave is awesome and cathedral-like, being over 230 feet in length and very lofty. B and R clambered over a pathway at the side of the columns, using a cable side-rail. They entered the cave. R composed a little tune and played it on his harmonica whilst B danced on one of the larger flat surface columns. Very dangerous. On the grassy upland outside it was possible to notice basking seals. Puffins in abundance had made burrows in the cliff-side. They have no fear of humans, and indeed prefer to have them near as protection against their enemies - the black-backed gulls.

Altogether, the pilgrimage was as expected - uplifting, reflective and refreshing of body and spirit.

Rod Dawson