It’s Memorial Day today in the States; it’s a lovely Bank Holiday here in Northern Ireland (and the rest of the UK) so it’s the perfect opportunity to write a bit. Normally, I would be doing administrative stuff in the church office on Monday, but Chris said he had no intention of coming in on a bank holiday so neither do I. The paper pushing can wait. Now I’ve got my window open and my bare feet propped up on the window sill with my laptop in my lap. Beautiful. Some would say that all I need now is a beer, but I think I’ll hold off.
So what’s been up? Well, since my last update about my funds, I am indeed over goal: $7,828.00 in total as of Thursday the 29th. Woo-hoo! Thank you all so much. Also, since my last update I’ve had a lot of new projects and experiences. I went with the other YAVs on our last retreat to Iona, a small island off the west coast of Scotland, part of the Inner Hebrides, and home to the ‘iona community’, Wild Goose publications, and the closest thing Presbyterians have to Mecca. It was amazing. I’ve heard a lot about Iona, mostly through college since my campus minister, Tommy, (and his best friend, Bryan,) was/were (is/are) really into Celtic spirituality and all things Iona. Also, the worship books that Wild Goose produces are pretty idiot-proof and when you’re leading several groups of college kids—and when several groups of college kids are leading each other—it helps to have something that is theologically sound as well as easy to participate in. Many services were taken from one of the Wild Goose worship books. We—the YAVs with Doug and his wife, Elaine—participated in several of these worship services at the Iona Abbey. Meeting in a rugged, old stone sanctuary that dates back to the early 13th century certainly gives one spiritual pause. And it’s a fabulous place to sing. Andy, Nathaniel, Phen and I managed to pull a rather amazing rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’ together, improv style. It was one of the most honest historical worship experiences I’ve ever had. We sang where Benedictine monks have chanted.
Also while on Iona, we had the opportunity to go on a pilgrimage. We partook in a 7-mile hike around the island, stopping for reflection and prayer at various points. It was beautiful scenery and was just overall a very ‘thin’ experience. (One of the ideas I picked up from Tommy and Bryan, that I’m pretty sure stems from Celtic spirituality, is one that states that there are ‘thin places’ on earth, places where heaven and God seem much closer than in the muck, mire, hustle and bustle of the everyday. These places can crop up anywhere and are different for everyone, but I can assure you that Iona was full of them.) Looking out over St. Columba’s Bay, or looking towards the Scottish coast, or staring west out over the vast expanse of Atlantic Ocean toward home, I couldn’t help but worship God. This isn’t supposed to be an evolution vs. creation thing, but I can’t look at scenery like that—views so wide it’s literally 360O of awesome, skies so blue it makes your eyes hurt, a horizon that stretches to the very limits of human sight, mountains that rise high enough to still be capped with snow before crashing into the green-blue sea—and not believe in a wonderful Creator. We, humans, are made in the image of God, and I know how much we love to create and paint and make things, so I must believe that God loves to do the same. (He just gets a much bigger canvas.)
Our last evening on Iona, we spoke to a wonderful woman named Jan, a member of the iona community. She spoke a lot about what the iona community is and does, and the thing that stuck with me was the one rule that community members are expected to live by. It consists of four parts: 1) daily prayer and Bible study, 2) regular meeting together, 3) working for justice, peace and the integrity of creation, and 4) mutual accountability for the use of members’ time and money. She spoke a little about each one, but the point I found the most interesting was number 4, the accountability. Maybe it’s a Western thing, maybe it’s a Northern Hemisphere thing, maybe it’s an American thing or a Presbyterian thing; whatever the ‘thing’ is, we hate talking about money. We don’t mind putting it on display with fancy cars, big houses, flat screen plasma TVs, and diplomas from top universities. Even the church is not exempt from this display; bigger buildings, flashy media, and no-expense-spared pizza parties to try and attract youth. Now, we need buildings to meet in, and I like having the words to songs projected on a screen (seems more communal that way instead of everyone reading out of an individual hymnbook. Plus it’s just better for your diaphragm to look up at a screen instead of squishing your head down into a hymnbook, but I digress.) And pizza parties definitely have their time and place, but on the whole we hate talking about money. Time is even worse, and I know that’s a Western/Northern thing. The busier we are, the more productive we must be, right? Jan said that one of the beautiful things about the mutual accountability is that it involves everyone. There is no judgment, just a declaration of what you’ve been doing with your time and money. Members bounce ideas off each other. Questions such as, ‘Is that the best use of your time?’ ‘Is that the best use of your money?’ ‘Can you give more?’ are just as common as ‘Do you have enough time for yourself? For your family?’ ‘Are you getting personal devotion time?’ (Remember point number 1?) It seemed like such a ‘Duh!’ moment for me. We are called as Christians to hold each other accountable for everything else, why not our time and money as well? My Dad and I have been telling my mother ‘It’s okay to say “No,”’ for years so that she remembers to not sign up for every committee. In turn, my mom has always been the voice of reason when it comes to my bank account. We are one big family in Christ, so why should this courtesy of accountability not be extended to our brothers and sisters?
I mentioned earlier that I’ve had a lot of other new experiences and projects since my last update. I’ve been reading a lot this whole year. I had a goal of reading through the Old Testament by the time I left, but considering I’m only now to 1 Samuel, I don’t think I’m gonna get from 2 Samuel to Micah in eight weeks. Even so, I’ve really enjoyed it. I figured that I couldn’t really understand Jesus unless I understood the world he came from (there’s that cultural anthropology minor coming out) and the best place to learn about Jesus’ world would be the Hebrew Scriptures. After all, Jesus the man was an Arabic Jew and would have been taught like any other male Arabic Jew of his day. He lived in the Promised Land and knew about occupation first hand; his people had a history of it. It’s been very educational to read through the Old Testament. Honestly, I’ve been surprised at the sub-stories I didn’t know; there’s a lot they don’t tell you in 2nd grade Sunday School. Samson indeed destroyed the temple and all the Philistines with it, but that was after he had his eyes gouged out and was forced into slavery for a few years. Noah was a drunk, Moses was a murderer and rule-breaker, Joshua ‘fit the battle of Jericho’ but slaughtered every living thing in the city, and the Israelites on the whole are a lying, mischievous bunch of spiritual whores. Every other chapter in the book of Judges is about bringing them back from whatever pagan god they’d decided to serve next. And through it all, God loves them. God raises up some really awful people to do some really fantastic things and eventually brings us Jesus through a long line of lying, mischievous spiritual whores. It makes me feel better about my own barely-existent familial dysfunction.
Along with reading the Old Testament I’ve been reading a whole string of books on faith and spiritual development and living like a Christian. It’s been really challenging and eye-opening. I’m not gonna say that any of them have completely changed my outlook on life, but all these things together—studying the Bible, living in a foreign country, reading about others who have struggled with the same things I struggle with and have some new ideas about how to deal with them—have all served to strengthen and deepen my faith while giving me new ideas about how to live it out. After all, I am a Christian and am called to live differently. Some of these books (any one of which I would recommend) are Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith and SexGod: Exploring the Endless Connections Between Sexuality and Spirituality by Rob Bell; The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne; unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…And Why it Matters by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons; Crazy Love by Francis Chan and Trolls & Truth by Jimmy Dorrell. I’m currently reading Acts of Faith by Eboo Patel and it’s really blowing my mind (in a good way.) It’s equal parts terrifying and beautiful and wakes up a passion in me that says, ‘YES! This is why I want to teach!’ Good stuff.
On that note, we move on to ‘Plans for Home.’ As I just mentioned, I want to teach. This is not really a new idea, I’ve long thought that I could enjoy the teaching profession, I just never knew what I would teach if I ever did, plus I didn’t really know if I truly wanted to. Last school year (2008-2009) was spent being a substitute teacher at Science Hill High School where I ended up doing some long-term assignments along with volunteering a large chunk of my time to the theatre department. I loved every minute. Nothing else I’ve ever done has made me readily willing to get up every day at 5.45am so that I could build stage flats before going to teach Macbeth. While here in Belfast, I’ve loved the opportunities I’ve had to work with youth and young adults, and I live for what people here call the ‘penny dropping moment.’ Akin to our ‘light bulb moment’ it’s the moment where the person you’re teaching suddenly ‘gets it’ and it all makes sense. It’s a great feeling. With that in mind I’ve applied to grad school to get my Master’s in Education. Originally my thought was to teach abroad, but now—after reading much of Acts of Faith—I’ve been thinking that I more want to teach in the States and take them abroad. I’ll be (hopefully) getting a double certification in sociology and English; I figure you have to understand the culture and people behind the books. You can’t read To Kill A Mockingbird without knowing about racism in the Deep South and you can’t read Cry, the Beloved Country without studying apartheid in South Africa. Being the dreamer, I would love to take literary tours of the world with students to teach them about the wider world through literature and people. ‘Hello! My name is “Idealist”’ So what? Just give me a school district with a vision.
Speaking of home, I come back to Tennessee July 26. Not gonna lie, I can’t wait. I love working here and I love my projects and the people and everything I’ve been able to do, but a year is a long time to be gone without a glimpse of home. I miss my mountains and Cavehill just doesn’t cut it. In the meantime, though, I’ll continue to lay the groundwork for some new projects for next year’s YAV. Want to make sure they’ll have as much of a blast as I have!
