Timothy C Aho

And to every trip and travel there comes a journey’s end. Saturday morning also dawned clear after a night of rain. My hosts, Netsanet and Misrak (and Nathan, Jaden, and Lewi from oldest to youngest) treated me to a cooked breakfast of sausages, eggs, toast, and orange juice. Not to mention a lovely cup of coffee!

And then I was on my way…and in 10 seconds it was raining! At the first petrol station I got under cover and put on my waterproof trousers which stayed on the rest of the day even if there was only a couple of showers to ride through. I went to Holmforth from Leeds and tried to see a friend there, but he was off playing tennis so I spent a couple of hours moving south through the Peak District, making a stop in Bakewell to buy a mother’s day gift for Tammy and get a sandwich and a drink. I may not have gotten very wet, but the wind felt like gale force!

And then it was make my way home by as direct a route as I could, arriving 4.00pm in the afternoon. All told, I got 847 miles on the bike on the four days of the eight that I traveled. I saw some great scenery along the way, the landscape of Celtic Christianity, great experiences and new friends, and a lot to tell Tammy and some practices to introduce into my life in following Jesus. I suspect some of these will show up in future postings as I reflect on what I have learned and am learning.

For more photos, go to www.facebook.com/timothy.c.aho. Thanks for reading and following my adventures of the last 8 days!

The last day of ‘formal’ class dawned bright and clear. To be honest, there has hardly been anything ‘formal’ about our studies this week. Our little hodge podge of Kiwis, Scots, Canucks, Americans and English have enjoyed a delightful week together looking at the roots, story, and style of Celtic mission.

After writing about Thursday’s experiences, I walked again past the ruins of the old Benedictine Monastery (which replaced the buildings and Celtic monastic site  some time after the Norman Conquest of 1066, four centuries later). I took more photos of the local scene (which can be found at www.facebook.com/timothy.c.aho), several of which I thought turned out very well. The serendipitous slo-mo video of the bumblebee was a highlight!

Olive led the final session, helping us to reflect on ‘Spirituality to Go’ which also happens to be the title of a book she wrote a few years ago. Essentially, as the Celtic Christians, integrating prayer intentionally into the warp and woof of life. This is the question I wrote to myself, “What daily practices do I have that can become spiritual practices because of what prayer or posture I add to it?”

We concluded with communion together, and then each of us was given a large piece of matzos (unleavened cracker). We were to go to each of our classmates, break off a piece, and say something to that person about what we had observed, enjoyed, or been challenged by in him or her. I wish I had been able to record or video this! The little groups of two gathered to speak to one another: laughter, tears, smiles of encouragement. I can only say that it was deeply affirming.

And then it was gear on, motorbike started, and off Holy Island! I headed for Bamburgh (the view of the castle as one comes into the town is amazing!) and took the coastal route south for an hour before heading inland toward the Northumberland National Park – and a short stop to see Hadrian’s Wall. Making my way south, I went through the stupendous and barren beauty of the Fells, north of the Yorkshire Dales.

I wasn’t able to go through the Dales again because I had to make my way to Leeds and our friend Hirpo. Meeting him and son Mattiel, we drove to the home of the current leader of Emmanuel Christian Fellowship, to whom Hirpo handed over leadership after planting the church. I have got to write down their names, because they are Amharic, I cannot wrap my head around the spellings! I certainly could wrap my mouth around the curry and rice I was served and the warm cups of coffee and the hospitality I received!

Another wake-up at 4am after a late night; I thought this week was about rest and restoration and getting some sleep! Only six hours a night isn’t what I wanted or hoped….. Anyway, I offer the below of my thoughts from the day. Go to www.facebook.com/timothy.c.aho if you want to see photos.

Nevertheless, today’s events were thought and prayer provoking. The morning communion service at St Mary’s was worshipful and meaningful for me, particularly some thoughts given for those who follow after Jesus in whatever form or fashion unique to that person or community. Speaking of Julian of Norwich (in the Roman and Anglican form of worship there are often references to saints or significant individuals in the life and history of the church), there was a reference to her service to God in ‘agony and joy.’

That turn of phrase really caught my attention. Later, in our morning session led by Mary Fleeson (google Lindisfarne Scriptorium and you will find her and husband Mark’s shop and artistic work), she asked us to identify two or three significant events from the previous day. Mary then asked us to select a couple of items from a large glass fish-bowl. Two items immediately caught my attention; a small piece of confetti and a shell with a small hole in it amongst all the shells and glass shards softened and smoothed by the sea.

Cleverly, Mary asked us to gather in groups of 4x and explain our selected item(s) and the significant event(s), and then to think of writing a ‘breath’ prayer. That is, something which could be said in the course of an exhale before requiring another intake of breath. And this is what I wrote, which became a kind of contemporary celtish prayer to Father, Son, and Spirit for me:

Lord of agony and joy, of emotions high and low, of service sacred and difficult, of mind ebullient and fecund and afflicted and sorrowful, be also this day my agony and my joy.

WordPress on the iPad doesn’t let me put in meter and rhyme like I would prefer, and it may not make sense to you…but it does to me!

I had to move out of my lodgings at The Open Gate today, and move over to the Manor Hotel (from cheap and reasonable to very expernsive!). Apparently, 40 some Anglican bishops from the north of England have invaded Holy Island for 24 hours, and my lodging at The Open Gate had already been reserved before I made my booking.

To end the day, I attended evensong at which Anna was singing. I entered at the same time as Anna, who was a bit fraught from arriving later than she wanted so I sat in a pew toward the front next to her and then prayed for her when she had settled. Almost immediately, in this very quiet and reverent building could be heard the gaggle of bishops noisily making their way to the entrance and then to their seats. I smiled to myself as I noticed many a head turn to see what the clucking was all about! While many responsive readings are not my style or a form of worship that excites me, I was pleasantly amused that this very full building of bishops and villagers and visitors couldn’t recite the canticles and Psalm 73 in unison quite right!

The retired bishop who spoke a reflection on Psalm 73 (I didn’t learn his hame but chatted briefly to him after evensong, so that’s how I know he was retired, but apparently even in retirement you are still a bishop, I guess) that was very insightful, but it was Anna singing, of all things, a little known Graham Kendrick Easter song that penetrated deeply. Her clear and pure voice made these words ring profoundly in my soul. A selection doesn’t do it justice, so here it is in total:

No scenes of stately majesty for the King of Kings, No nights aglow with candle flame for the King of love, No flags of empire hung in shame for Calvary, No flowers perfumed the lonely way that led him to a borrowed tomb for Easter Day.

No wreaths upon the ground were laid for the King of kings, Only a crown of thorns remained where he gave his love, A message scrawled in irony “King of the Jews’ Lay trampled where they turned away and no-one knew That is was the first Easter Day.

Yet nature’s finest colours blaze for the King of kings, And stars in jewelled-clusters say: ‘Worship heaven’s King!’ Two thousand spring times more have bloomed. Is that enough? Oh how can I be satisfied until he hears The  whole world sing of Easter love?

My prayers shall be a fragrance sweet for the King of kings. My love the flowers at his feet for the King of love. My love the flowers at his feet for the King of love. My vigil is to watch and pray until he comes. My highest tribute to obey and live to know, The power of that first Easter Day.

(Graham Kendrick, copyright 1998 Make Way Music)

Well, a late night last night and an early morning make for a tired boy as I write in the late afternoon reflecting on the day thus far.

This morning’s guest speaker was Kate Tristram. What a fascinating woman! Raised in Stourbridge just south of Solihull, she trained at Oxford to be a teacher in religious studies and history, taught in secondary school for a few years, then began lecturing at Durham University in their theological college. Having moved to Lindisfarne in 1979 after 16 years at Durham, this energetic 83 years young Anglican church leader spoke for two hours on the history of the Celts, Anglo-Saxons, and early Celtic and English (Anglo-Saxon) leaders (monks and saints).

Amazingly, at age 63 she decided to get a post-graduate degree in both Medieval Latin and Medieval Irish. She said the Latin was fairly easy and interesting, but the Irish nearly drove her crackers! If anyone has come across such names as Naimh (pronounced ‘neeve’), then you’ll have a little flavour of what she means.

Kate described the beginnings of Lindisfarne as a monastic site in 635AD. She described it’s relation to Iona (off western coast of Scotland), and the education the band of 12 monks with him began. They took in 12 non-literate children (Anglo-Saxons were illiterate but an oral culture) and Year 1 was learning to read and write Latin and memorize, in Latin all 150 Psalms! Graduating to Year 2 was to learn the Gospels in Latin by heart, and the years following included laws of the OT, the prophets, epistles, and so on.

Aiden, who started this monastic community, promptly left it and travelled the lands of Northumbria. When he began his journeys, the King gave him the finest horse (think F1 or Porsche or Ferrari) which Aiden promptly gave to a beggar on his first journey outside of the castle gates. When taken to task by the King, he challenged him, saying “How can you care more for the son of a mare then for a son of God?!” This humble man journeyed the lands, and all his monastic band did so without weapons (knife) in a violent society. (Kate mentioned that in this warrior society, it was not uncommon for a young girl of 12 to be married and be widowed up to 3 times by the time she was 18; her husband(s) in battle as early as aged 14 would often be killed.)

Significantly, ‘pilgrimage’ in those days was not about one’s personal journey to a religious or holy site for one’s own spiritual life and development, it was a one-way trip of adventuring with God to wherever He might take them. Hence these wanderers travelled the length and breadth of the British Isles and Continent with humility, identifying with the peoples to whom they travelled to bring the good news of the Kingdom of God.

Kate’s final recitation of an Irish poem about pilgrimage sums up that God was with these peregrinatio: ‘To go to Rome. Much problem. Much difficulty. You will not find there the God you seek unless you take him with you.’

There was more to the afternoon, with Ray Simpson (The Open Gate) and the evening yet to come with Andrew Raine (Northumbria Community), but I am tired and think I will take a nap!