Mary wasn't Scottish

I was at an Easter service at Ps and Gs today (Easter service on Easter. Crazy, I know). Before the service started there was a short animated film about Mary Magdalene telling Peter that the tomb of Jesus was empty.

As soon as this animated Mary started to speak, her words came out in a thick Scottish accent. I was taken aback. I think I actually sat straighter in my seat. I thought, "Mary Magdalene wasn't Scottish!" I was actually appalled that they could dub the tape in a Scottish accent. I think I scoffed silently (I hope it was silent). I thought, "How silly." And then I realized (mocking myself), "Cause an American accent would be so much more legitimate..." I thought about it and I actually would not have thought twice if Mary was speaking in an American accent. It would have been the Gospel ('Gospel'). I would not have batted an eye lash. Yet (as I'm sure you've realized where this is going) there is really no difference between a Scottish Mary and an American Mary (clearly). It sounds quite silly to say it like that. They are both so far from what the person is. This is like me being portrayed in later years by a small Chinese girl. I'm not Chinese. I'm not even close to Chinese. I can barely say the names of Chinese cities properly. To put me in a Chinese setting would be to make me someone completely different. Chinese would think I knew what they knew, I thought like they thought, when really, I 'know' as an American, I think like an American, I have no cultural understandings of a Chinese person.

I have no real, hard 'point' in all of this. The realization just made me wonder. What do we do to Jesus in all of this? What do we make Jesus by making him American, Scottish, English, German, Chinese, etc., etc. I like to think Jesus transcends all of these cultural understandings. But how much do we project onto our idea of Jesus? How much do we not get to know him because we see 'Cowboy Jesus' or 'Scottish Jesus' or 'Prince Jesus' and we do not see or understand Jesus as he came, lived and died - Jesus of Nazareth. I belive Jesus has a message for all people, of all cultures, but he was in a certain time and place. As a human, he was in a circumstance and his own culuture. I just wonder how much we overlook this.

Anyway. Theological thought of the day over :)

What a Wonderful World

I just had a spree of listening to inspirational music - namely, 'what a wonderful world' and 'somewhere over the rainbow.' I realized, for a brief moment, how much of this incredible life I take for granted. I do apologise to all of you who happen to catch me in those moments and have to deal with my incredibly self-centered and pessimistic self. If only I could wake up everyday and realise what an incredible experience and journey this all is. I pray I do.

Short story. I'm so blessed to be here. Iona, other travelling horizons, a master's degree I find incredibly interesting. Oh, that we didn't take life so for granted.

Hoping you all do better than me!

Love,
Sarah

A Thin Place

When I was about 12-13, maybe as old as 15, my mom rented this video called Be Still. The film had a number of Christian speakers, I believe speaking about how to be still with God. I don't remember the exact point of the film now that I think about it, but in one section of this video, a number of speakers talked about a place called Iona. It was an island off of the west coast of Scotland. One speaker who was Scottish said, "Iona is a thin place. It's one of those place with little space between heaven and earth." For a number of years after we watched this film my dad would say, "I want to go to Iona. It's a thin place" (he would attempt to say this bit in a Scottish accent).

Last week, a good friend of mine came to visit from the United States. She wanted to go to the western isles. Her original goal was to go to the Isle of Lewis -- a northwest isle, near Inverness. We looked into this, but travel alone was about double the room rate and none of this was cheap, so we decided to think again. After a bit of planning, we decided we would go to the Isle of Mull. We booked the train ticket, but, as we were looking for hotels, we found 0 reasonable accomodations. In a desperate search for a hostel anywhere in that area, my friend and I found Iona Hostel. A new (since 2007) hostel on the isle of Iona. We were quite desperate as we already had train tickets, so we quickly booked a spot at the hostel.

We traveled four hours by train to a town called Oban, 45 minutes by ferry to the Isle of Mull, took a two hour bus to the opposite side of Mull (almost missing our bus - the one and only bus), and then caught a 10 minute ferry to the Isle of Iona from Mull. We did this all on a Saturday. We had grand plans to return to Mull on Sunday and climb a mountain, drink in a local pub, etc. However, on the way to the ferry for Iona, we were informed that no buses run on Mull on Sundays. Taking this into consideration, and having had some small taster of the entertainment in the small ferry town, we decided to spend Sunday on Iona.

We saw the abbey of St Columba, the nunnery ruins, we went to the opposite side to St. Columba's beach, we both walked along the beach near our hostel (our hostel is a whole other story). The sun was shining the whole day and being as far north as Scotland is, it felt like it was right on top of us. I nearly shouted for joy as I found I was slightly sunburned Sunday night.

We experienced (well, I may only be able to speak for myself) - I experienced - no seen angels, no visions, I didn't see columba himself, but, lying on the flat grass, just feet away from the ocean with the sun beating on my face and the sound of waves in my ears -- in Scotland-- I think I can say it did feel like a thin place. Yes, I think thin is quite a fair adjective.