By Faith Alone

Well I know I said that God had a sense of humour and clearly he did bowl me a googly on my last day, in fact the last evening. The sea mist rolled in for the forth afternoon and stayed as long as the previous late afternoon early evenings. It seemed to me like a shroud had descended onto the Island when the last of the visitor had left. Today’s stage performance by the Island, where everyone plays their part, unwittingly. The curtain came down and the stage is cleared, reset for the next day’s play, starring old haunts with new congregations milling about wondering, “Is this it!”. Sadly, for many the answer might very much be yes it is, but the reality is something completely different. More spiritual rather than docusoap as seen on TV.

Today for me was not the last day. At no point on my journey have I ever seen each place visited as having a time limit on it. If I did not complete whatever I was doing one day, it could be completed the following day. If it took five days to do something, then it did. There was no need to hurry. This time on the sabbatical was never going to be about me rushing to fill in forms, be an accountant, or watch the time between appointment. This time my time with God in places that I have never spent any real quality time in before.

The Orkneys, I had been too only once before three years ago for a Refresher Course for a week with the United Reformed Church. I signed up onto www.blipfoto.com while on was there, but the Internet connection was not great. Yet I vowed to myself that I would be back and three years later I was! The visit to a Benedictine Monastery at Quarr Abbey, near Fishborne on the Isle of Wight (IOW) was another surprise. For the first twenty-five years I have lived on the coast in plain sight of the IOW and before this visit I had only ever been to the Island for the last night of Cowes Week! Lindisfarne or Holy Island I had never visited before, not even a sighting from the A1. I knew the works of art by Mary Fleeson, but did not know about the island, it’s Christian history, or The Bothy attached to the URC St Cuthbert’s Centre, or any of the other things and people that the last twelve weeks has brought into the light.

There is an outpouring of spiritual insight that I had not expected. Maybe, I was not expecting anything really during this time, but here I am. I have met an actor; a writer; an artist or two; an American gallery owner; a retired Marist Brother from Glasgow; Benedictine Monks; Staff of the Royal Society of the Protection of Birds (Orkney) and marveled at their knowledge and enthusiasm; a French Nun, an English Nun, both full of quiet wisdom. I have meet a number URC Ministers all eager to share their thoughts insights and generally be helpful while I have been on my islands tour. Even in between all of these galaxies of wonder and pre-Christian era histrionics to various sagas of the conversions to the Christian faith that became part of the histories of all these islands in turn. Notwithstanding all of this, the community spirituality of the Islands today and where they are and how they see themselves in the world trying to do the “right thing”. More drama with a better quality of life than grubby headlines, because while it is not bad news worthiness, it is Good News!

I’ve made the point of not following the News of the World, because I did not want to have my relaxed worldly view of what was going on around me coloured by the pain of the world. I knew there was terrible upset on our terraqueous globe, but I needed to be hermit-like in how a walked through this time while on sabbatical. No television, no newspapers, the Internet was spasmodic, and while I had access to a radio, it did not get turned on. I found that not knowing helped refocus my prayer time and be more reflective in my meditations no end. Today did not have to be last day of this either. I had got used to not knowing. Of not getting involved and being perplexed by Earthly going ons and then there are the continued bustling arguments between nations, between religious groups. There are times when weeping is the only way out of this cycle of bad news, I have meet people who seem to thrive on a diet of misfortune and the tormented struggles of a weaken “cosmopolitan” society.

Having spent the day trying to update myself with my reflections and pack the car and talk to Rachel, one of my tri-island sabbatical supervisors, I wondered off to walk one more time down to The Pilgrim’s Way or St Cuthbert’s Way. The sea mist seemed to be doing battle with the sun, but there were important allies at work, the wind was drifting the mist over the poles like some fictional alleyway where the river mist swirls around the legs of all who walk through it, with their cloaks adding to the eeriness of the sight.

Well it was being added to here. The sun was trying to burn off the mist, the wind was blowing it around so much that at times it was impossible to see the blue sky that was just on the edge of the picture.Sometimes I could see poles in the distance and other times I could only see two or three poles. Once the images were taken it was time to reflect on what I was seeing. All this time away was spent on wondering want God had in store for me. Where was my future? Was it still be in North Warwickshire? Was it still in the Church? Within my two remaining churches? Just what the dickens do you want of me, God?

The reality is always different to what you might presuppose. The feeling I had as I looked into the mist, was, maybe, I was not meant to know. Maybe, God will reveal it in time. Like mist rising from this scene in front of me. As I looked out, I could see that there were tyre tracks veering off to the left of picture. Where did they go? They certainly were not straight forward. The pole were at least guided by knowledge far greater than my own. They lead the way: they were the way, but God has a habit of not revealing everything straight away, somethings, have to be a mystery. His plan, is not always going to match up to my plan of the future. All will be revealed in time, but not right now! God’s time is not our time.

In the end it come down to faith that God knows what is best for me. It may not include other people, or other places. I was once asked if it was time I left and started looking for another church. My reply was that it was up to God and not logical human decision making to answer that question. The question this time will be answered in God’s time and for now I must wait and have the faith alone to be watchful, again.