Metropolitan United Church

   It was so simple. A pick-up choir of staff, volunteers and guests, finishing a quick rehearsal of one song, a congo drum. a baby-grand piano in the vestibule above, two long tables laid out down the chancel aisle, decorated with bright clothes and tea lights, candelabra lit, as customary, along the length of the nave, the gentle gathering of people from the residences, the guest houses and island homes, coming singley, or in groups, finding a seat, sitting and leaning into what was to come. Worship at Iona Abbey.

   The Warden would preach this night. He took his seat at the head of the table, held his rainbow stole in his hands a moment, then slipped softly it over his head. The welcome was given, a song sung, a brief text read, and then, the opening of the Word. The Warden spoke of the surprising gifts Iona gives, life-changing gifts that go deep and transform people long after their time here. It isn't what we expect that meets us. It is what catches us by surprise, in the air, the sea, the stones, the silences, the praise.

   He said that this community holds no great secrets. It offers the simplest of human things; shelter, food, friendship, time and attention. These are given through the hands and lives of people struggling with joys and sorrows, as we all are, and yet  such "faithful brokenness" has great power.

   His remarks were brief and eloquent. His is a preacher and pastor who is right for this place, and knows his people well. Afterwards, the choir sang its chant. The congregation hummed along in its reverie. At the end, after bread and wine, we lingered awhile, savouring the afterglow. How I love this place and these folk. It is all so simple. People looking for something and unafraid to let it show, come to this strange, out of the way locale at the edge of the world. The Word, the longing, and human agency did what they so wondrously do, and I saw it happen.

    Back home, in the din, under the pressures, at the pace, among the needs and deeds, amid the pain, against the stream, in the face of all the odds, I must remember what I have seen and known. I must remember. It is a great boon for me and for us all. Preaching is community, now, as it has always been.